VOLUME 2 (OF 3) ***






THE JOURNAL OF

MONTAIGNE’S TRAVELS

IN ITALY

[Illustration:

                                                           Art Repro Co.

_Tomb of Michel de Montaigne at Bordeaux._]




    THE JOURNAL OF

    MONTAIGNE’S TRAVELS

    IN ITALY BY WAY OF SWITZERLAND
    AND GERMANY

    IN 1580 AND 1581

    TRANSLATED AND EDITED
    WITH AN INTRODUCTION AND NOTES

    BY W. G. WATERS

    AUTHOR OF “JEROME CARDAN,” ETC.

    IN THREE VOLUMES

    VOL. II

    LONDON

    JOHN MURRAY, ALBEMARLE STREET

    1903




CONTENTS

    CHAP.      PAGE

    V. ITALY                                                           1

    VI. JOURNEY TO ROME                                               60

    VII. ROME                                                         73

    VIII. ROME TO LORETO                                             180




LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

VOL. II


    MONTAIGNE’S TOMB (_Photogravure_)  _Frontispiece_

    VERONA                         _To face page_ 2

    VENICE                                  ”         14

    VENICE                                  ”         18

    FOUNTAIN AT BOLOGNA                     ”         38

    THE ROMAN FORUM FROM THE CAPITOL        ”         74

    CLOACA MAXIMA                           ”         94

    THE VILLA OF MECÆNAS                    ”         98

    TEMPLE OF JANUS                         ”         98

    ISLAND ON THE TIBER                     ”        126

    THE PANTHEON                            ”        156

    TIVOLI                                  ”        166

    THE VILLA D’ESTE AT TIVOLI              ”        166

    LORETO                                  ”        196

    THE TEMPLE OF THE SIBYL AT TIVOLI       ”        174

    PALAZZO FARNESE                         ”        178




THE JOURNAL OF MONTAIGNE’S TRAVELS IN ITALY




V

ITALY


[Illustration: VERONA

_Reproduced from Civitates Orbis Terrarum_

                                                _To face p. 2_, vol. ii.
]

Verona is about the size of Poitiers, having a vast quay beside the
Adisse, which flows through it and is crossed by three bridges. I went
thither also with the baggage. Without the bulletins of health, which
had been issued at Trante and confirmed at Rovere, our party would
not have been admitted within the town; not that there was any talk
of danger of the plague, but this is always done by custom or by way
of tricking wayfarers out of a few coins. We went to the cathedral,
where M. de Montaigne remarked on the strange behaviour of those
present at High Mass on such a solemn day. They chattered in the
very choir of the church, standing with their hats on, and turning
their backs to the altar, and recking naught of the office except at
the time of elevation. There were an organ and violins, which gave
musical accompaniment to the mass. We visited other churches, but saw
nothing noteworthy, either in the ornaments or in the beauty of the
women present. Amongst others we went to the church of Saint George,
where the Germans have left divers marks of their presence and several
coats-of-arms, together with an inscription relating how certain German
noblemen in the train of the Emperor Maximilian, what time he came to
take Verona from the Venetians, placed a certain piece of work over
one of the altars. M. de Montaigne remarked that the government here
preserved the memory of its reverses, as it also preserved in their
integrity the beautiful tombs of the ill-starred Scaligers. It is a
fact that our host of the “Chevalet,” an excellent house, where we
found a superfluity of good fare and a bill one-fourth more than we
would have paid in France, enjoyed the privilege of burying his family
in one of the tombs aforesaid. We also visited, under the guidance
of the castellan’s lieutenant, the castle where the government keeps
on foot sixty soldiers; more, as M. de Montaigne was informed, as a
safeguard against the townsfolk than against foreign foes; and then
went to a religious house occupied by Jesuates de Saint Jerosme. These
are not priests, neither do they say mass or preach, being for the most
part ignorant, but they are skilful distillers of citron and other
sorts of water, both here and in other places. They wear white frocks,
small white caps, and over this a cloak of dark russet, and are very
fine young men. Their church is excellently appointed, as is also their
refectory, in which supper was already laid.

We saw likewise some very ancient masonry of the Roman period which
is said to be an amphitheatre,[1] and the people make great boast of
this, and also of certain other portions which have been uncovered
below. On returning to the monastery we found that the cloisters were
full of perfume, and afterwards they led us into a small room full of
phials and earthen vessels, where we also were perfumed. The finest
thing we saw, and what M. de Montaigne declared to be the grandest
building he had ever seen, was what they call the Arena. This is an
amphitheatre of oval shape which seems to be almost perfect; the seats,
the vaulting, and the surrounding walls are sound, save the extreme
outside portion. In fine, enough is there to give a vivid impression
of the form and of the use for which such buildings were constructed.
The government employs there the penal labour of criminals, and has
thus repaired a portion of the damage, but much yet remains to be
done before it will be in its ancient state,[2] and it is doubtful
whether the whole efforts of the city will be able to accomplish this
rebuilding. The place is oval in shape, and contains forty-three rows
of seats, each a foot or rather more in height, the measure of the
circumference at the highest point being some six hundred paces.[3] The
gentlefolk of the country still use it for jousting and other public
games.

M. de Montaigne also saw somewhat of the Jews, having visited their
synagogue and held long converse concerning their ceremonies. The
city has many fine squares and market-places, and from the castle,
which stands on high ground, we could discern Mantua, which lay some
twenty miles distant to the right of our road. Here there is no want
of inscriptions, seeing that they never renew a gutter, either in the
towns or along the highways, without inscribing thereupon the names of
the Podestà and of the artificer. Like the Germans they nearly all use
some armorial device, traders as well as others. In Germany indeed, not
only the towns, but also the larger portion of the villages lay claim
to exhibit their coats-of-arms.

We quitted Verona, and on our way out of the city we saw the church of
Our Lady of Miracles,[4] famous by reason of certain marvellous things
which have there come to pass. On account of these manifestations, the
church has been rebuilt after a beautiful circular design. Some of the
bell-towers are covered with brickwork laid crosswise. We traversed a
flat country of varied character, fertile here and barren there, the
mountains on our left hand being far distant, with some on the right
also, and rode thirty miles in one stretch to Vicenza where we supped.

This is a handsome town, somewhat smaller than Verona, and full of
noblemen’s palaces.[5] On the morrow we visited several churches and
saw the fair, which was at that time being held in the great square,
many shops having been built of wood especially for the occasion.[6] We
also visited the house of the Jesuates, which is a very handsome one,
and saw their store of distilled water, for the public sale of which
they keep a shop. We bought two bottles of scent for a crown. They make
likewise medicinal draughts for all sorts of maladies. The founder of
this order was P. Urb. S. Jan Colombin,[7] a noble of Siena, who made
the foundation in 1367, and it is at present under the protection of
the Cardinal de Peluco. They have thirty monasteries, all of which are
in Italy, and their house here is a very beautiful one. It is said they
scourge themselves every day, and they keep little chains in their
cells, where they pray without singing, and for a certain time during
the day they meet together.

At this place we failed to get old wine, which troubled me greatly on
account of M. de Montaigne’s colic; for he had to drink thick wine
instead of the good wine we had got up to this time. We thought of the
German wines with regret, though they are for the most part spiced and
diverse in their odour, and though they have a liquorish flavour like
sage; indeed, they call one of them _vin de sauge_, which is pleasant
enough when the palate is wonted thereto, seeing that it is also
good and generous. We set out from this place on the Thursday after
dinner by a road very level, wide, straight, ditched on both sides and
slightly raised above the plain. On either hand the country was very
fertile, and the mountains, as before, were in the far distance. After
a journey of eighteen miles we reached Padua in time for bed.

Here the hostelries can in no respect be compared with those of
Germany. Certes they are less costly by one-third, and resemble those
of France. The city is goodly, wide in extent, and in my opinion holds
within its bounds an area at least as big as that of Bordeaux; but
the streets are narrow and ugly, lacking both in people and in seemly
dwellings. Its situation is very pleasant, in an open plain stretching
wide on every side. We tarried here all the following day and saw the
schools of fencing, dancing, and equitation,[8] at which more than a
hundred French gentlemen were at this time seeking instruction. M.
de Montaigne deemed that it worked greatly to the detriment of these
young countrymen of ours that they should thus live together and
still practise the customs and language of their native land, letting
go the chance of making acquaintance with strangers. He was vastly
pleased with the church of St. Antony, the cupola of which is not
constructed whole in itself, but of several sections made into the form
of a dome; the church likewise contains much rare sculpture work in
marble and bronze. M. de Montaigne saw with much pleasure the portrait
bust of Cardinal Bembo,[9] which bears all the marks of a refined
character and an indefinable something testifying to the gracefulness
of his intellect. The hall where justice is dispensed is the largest
unsupported by pillars I ever saw, and at one end thereof is the head
of Titus Livius, figuring him an emaciated man of a studious and
melancholy temper.[10] This is an ancient work of which naught is known
save by tradition. His epitaph is there also, having been set, as was
its due, in a place of honour after its discovery. Over one of the
doors of this palace is a figure of Paul the jurisconsult,[11] but this
M. de Montaigne pronounced to be a modern work. A house standing on the
site of the ancient arena in a garden is worth a visit.

Students can live here cheaply at seven crowns a month for the master
and six for the servant in respectable boarding-houses. We left early
on the Saturday morning, traversing a very fine road beside the river,
and having on either hand fields very fertile with corn, and well
shaded by rows of trees, upon which the vines were trained. All along
the road fine pleasure houses had been built, and over the gate of one
of these belonging to the Contarini is an inscription telling how the
king[12] lodged here on his way back from Poland. After travelling
twenty miles we stopped for dinner at Chaffousine,[13] which is naught
but an inn, and here we took boat for Venice. Here they bring ashore
all the boats with machinery and pulleys worked by two horses after
the fashion of an oil mill. They move their boats by means of wheels
placed underneath, which run along planks and thereby convey them over
to the canal which runs into the sea on which Venice is situated. We
took dinner at Chaffousine, and, having embarked in a gondola, arrived
at Venice in time for supper after travelling five miles.

[Illustration: VENICE

                                               _To face p. 14_, vol. ii.
]

On the morning of the morrow, Sunday, M. de Montaigne saw M. de
Ferrier,[14] the king’s ambassador, who welcomed him heartily and took
him to Mass and back to his house to dinner. On the Monday he and M.
d’Estissac again dined there. One remark let fall by the ambassador
amongst divers others seemed to him very strange, to wit, that he (the
ambassador) held no conversation with the people of the city, who
were of a humour so suspicious that should one of their number speak
to him only twice, this one would be looked upon askance.[15] M. de
Ferrier also informed him that the city of Venice brought an annual
income of fifteen hundred thousand crowns to the Signory.[16] With
regard to the curiosities of the place they are familiar enough, and
M. de Montaigne said that he had found Venice different from what he
had anticipated, and that, after he had made a diligent visitation of
the city, he was somewhat disappointed. The government, the situation,
the arsenal, the Place of St. Mark, and the vast crowds of foreigners,
seemed to him most worthy of remark of anything he saw. On Monday
November, 6, while he sat at supper, the Signora Veronica Franca,[17]
a noble Venetian lady, sent for his acceptance a little book of
letters which she had put together, whereupon he gave two crowns to
the bearer. On the Tuesday after dinner he had an attack of colic
which lasted two or three hours; it was not, as far as could be seen,
one of his worst, and before supper he passed two large stones, one
after the other. He failed to perceive in the women of Venice that
great beauty for which they are famed. He saw some of the highest
class of those who make a market of their charms, and this institution
appeared to him more marvellous than any other of the city, to see
such a vast number of them, some hundred and fifty, spending money
like princesses over furniture and attire, with no other source of
income than the traffic aforesaid. Again, divers of the nobles of the
city entertained courtesans at their own charges in the sight of every
one. M. de Montaigne hired for his use a gondola for day and night as
well at a charge of two livres, about seventeen sous, with no extra
expenditure for the boatman. Provisions are as dear here as in Paris,
but it is the cheapest town in the world for living, for a train of
servants is here quite useless, and every one goes about unattended.
The cost of apparel is in like degree moderate; moreover, no one has
occasion for a horse. On Saturday the twelfth of November we left and
returned to Chaffousine, a distance of five miles, and here we and
our servants and baggage got on board a boat, for which we paid two
crowns. M. de Montaigne was somewhat in fear of water transit, being
advised that it deranged his stomach;[18] and now, being minded to
ascertain whether the motion on this river, which indeed is most steady
and uniform provided that the boat be drawn by horses, would cause him
inconvenience, he made trial of it and found that he suffered no ill
effects therefrom. On this channel we had to pass one or two lock gates
which open and shut to the passers-by. After a voyage of twenty miles
by water we reached Padua in time for bed.

[Illustration: VENICE

                                               _To face p. 18_, vol. ii.
]

M. de Caselis here parted company with us and tarried in Padua on a
pension of seven crowns a month for good food and lodging. He might
have taken his valet for five crowns; the pensions here are of the
highest class and frequented by the best of company, for instance the
Sieur de Millan, son of M. de Salignac. As a rule the guests have no
servants of their own, but are served by the valet of the house, or by
women. Each guest has an excellent room, and finds his own fuel and
light; the catering, as we had reason to know, being very good. Living
in this manner is exceedingly cheap, and this in my opinion is the
reason why so many strangers who are no longer students resort hither.
It is not the custom to ride through the streets or to be attended by
servants. In Germany we noted that all men down to the hand workers
carried swords, a practice not adopted in this country. After dinner
on Sunday, November 12, we went to see the baths to the right of the
city, going to Abano[19] direct. This is a small village at the very
foot of the mountains. Three or four hundred paces beyond it is a
rocky plateau, somewhat higher than the ground adjacent, and on this
elevation, which is of considerable extent, several springs of hot
water issue from the rocks, which water cannot be used at the source
for the bath--and much less for drinking--on account of its great
heat. Wherever it runs it leaves a grey trace like burnt cinder and a
heavy deposit which resembles petrified sponge, its taste being salt
and sulphurous. Indeed the whole region is perfumed thereby, for the
brooks, which run in all directions over the level ground, convey to a
great distance the heat and the smell aforesaid.

Two or three small houses, ill enough furnished, serve the needs of
the patients, the water being brought to the baths in the houses by
channels from the springs. Exhalations rise not only from the water
itself, but also from every crack and crevice of the rocks, which give
out heat everywhere, so that the people there have dug out certain
places in which a man may lie down and get the heat of the exhalations
and fall into a sweat. M. de Montaigne took a little of the water in
his mouth, after it had lost its excessive heat by standing awhile, and
found it tasted more of salt than of anything else.

Furthermore to the right of this place we perceived the abbey of Praie,
noted for its wealth, its beauty, and its liberal and courteous
reception of strangers. M. de Montaigne would not go there, having
settled with himself that it behoved him to revisit all these parts,
and especially Venice, at his leisure, and that this present visit was
as nothing.[20] He had simply gone to see Venice, attracted by the
exceedingly great renown of the city, and affirmed that he would tarry
neither at Rome nor elsewhere in Italy without having paid another
visit to Venice. Reckoning on this event, he left at Padua, in charge
of M. François Bourges, a Frenchman, the works of Cardinal Cusan[21]
which he had purchased in Venice. From Abano we went to a place called
S. Pietro,[22] lying low, and as we went we had the mountains close
to us on our right hand. This is a land of meadows and pasturage, but
the air is thick in certain spots with the vapour of the hot springs,
some boiling hot and some lukewarm: some springs indeed are quite cold.
The taste is somewhat flatter and more insipid than that of the other
springs, and there is less of the odour of sulphur and the taste of
salt. We came upon some traces of ancient buildings, and two or three
mean hovels for the lodging of guests; but in truth the place is very
barbarous, and I would be sorry to send thither any friend of mine. The
report is that the Signiory sets little store by such places, and looks
askance at the prospect of an influx thither of gentlefolk from foreign
parts. M. de Montaigne said that these last-named baths reminded him of
those of Preissac[23] near to Aix. The water thereof leaves a reddish
trace, and a deposit like mud on the tongue. He could detect no special
taste, and fancied it was charged with iron.

On our departure from this place we passed a very fine house belonging
to a Paduan gentleman, where M. le Cardinal d’Este[24] was then
sojourning. He was sick with gout and had been there more than two
months for the sake of the baths, but more on account of the near
vicinity of the ladies of Venice and all sorts of diversion. Thence
we travelled eight miles to Bataille,[25] where we arrived in time
for bed. This is a small village on the canal of Fraichine[26] which,
having not more than two or three feet of water, is navigated by boats
of a very strange fashion. There we were served on earthen dishes and
on plates of wood and not of pewter, but otherwise we did not fare
badly. On the Monday morning I myself[27] went on ahead with the mule
while the others visited the baths[28] situated some five hundred
paces distant along the bank of the canal. From M. de Montaigne’s
description, they found there only one bath-house, with ten or twelve
chambers. In May and August a number of visitors come, but these for
the most part lodge in the village or in the castle of Seigneur Pic,
where also lodged M. le Cardinal d’Este. The bathwater comes down from
a small mountain ridge, and runs through channels into the houses
below. The patients do not drink thereof but rather of the water of S.
Pierre[29] which is fetched for them. The water in its descent from the
ridge runs beside other channels of good sweet water, and it is hotter
or colder in ratio to the length of its course. M. de Montaigne was
for investigating the source up above, but no one could point it out
to him, and indeed it appeared that it had a subterraneous origin. He
found that it left little taste in the mouth, like that of S. Pierre,
and that it was scarcely sulphurous or salt at all; moreover, that
its effect when drunk would resemble that of the water aforesaid. In
the bath-house there are other chambers where the water only comes in
by drops under which any affected member is placed, and they told M.
de Montaigne that the forehead was the part most often treated for
ailments of the head. At certain points on these channels small cabins
of stone have been constructed, to which the patients may repair, and
having opened the hole communicating with the channel, they quickly
fall into a sweat through the exhalations and heat of the water. There
are also rooms for dry heat, made in various fashions, but mud baths
are what they chiefly use. This treatment is practised in a large
bath below the bath-house and open to the sky, fitted with a machine
by which the mud is pumped up to the house adjacent. Here are provided
divers appliances of wood made to fit each limb--legs, arms, thighs
and other parts--wherein the member to be treated is placed and the
appliance filled with mud, which is renewed as often as is needed.
This mud is as black as that of Barbotan, but less full of grains
and more greasy, moderately hot and quite odourless. The nearness to
Venice is the only advantage which any of these baths possesses, all
the surroundings being gross and unrefined. Near this spot we[30]
came to the bridge over the canal which is known as the Canal of the
Two Thoroughfares, which pass both below and above it. Here they have
constructed causeways, which on the outside are on a level with the
roads along which the traffic passes, and on the inside slope down to
the level of the waterway. Here is built a stone bridge of two arches
over which the canal is carried, and above this bridge is built another
from one bank to the other, for the service of those who may want to
cross the canal, and under it go the boats which traverse the waterway.
Here also descends from the mountains a large stream, which, after
flowing through the plain, crosses the course of the canal; and it was
to compass this passage without any interruption to the navigation that
the first-named two-arched bridge was constructed. The stream, which
itself is of volume sufficient to float small boats, here passes under
the canal, its sides being faced with wooden planks. So that, reckoning
this stream, and the canal itself, and the bridge crossing the same,
there are three routes in use one over the other.

From hence onwards, the canal being left on the right hand, the road
passed by a small town called Montselise which, though it lies very
low, was enclosed by a wall carried almost to the top of the mountain.
Within this wall stood an ancient castle belonging to the former
lords of the place and now a heap of ruins. At this point, leaving the
mountains to the right, we kept to the left along a fine level raised
road, which at certain seasons of the year must be well shaded. On
either side lay a very fertile plain, the several cornfields thereof
being thickly planted with rows of trees from which hung the vines, as
is the usage in this country. Hereabout so many great grey oxen are
seen that their presence did not cause in us the surprise we had felt
at the sight of those belonging to the Archduke Fernand.

We found ourselves now upon a high bank made beside the river, with
marshes on either side more than fifteen miles in extent, and as wide
as the eye could compass. In other days there were extensive swamps
which the Signiory attempted to drain and bring under cultivation. In
some places success has been achieved, but in very few. At present the
view is over a muddy sterile country, thick set with cane growth, the
attempt to change its character having resulted in loss rather than
gain. We crossed the Adisse[31] on a floating bridge which was placed
on two small boats, and was capable of carrying fifteen or twenty
horses; passing over by a rope fastened to a point some five hundred
paces distant in the water. To keep this rope aloft several small boats
are stationed here and there and fitted with forked poles which hold up
the long cord. After a journey of twenty-five miles we arrived in time
for bed at Rovigo, a small town belonging to the Signiory aforesaid.
Here they gave us salt in lumps, which the people take as if it were
sugar. There is as great abundance of provision here as in France,
in spite of what has been said to the contrary. They do not lard
their roast meat, but the savour thereof is not much affected by this
omission. The chambers in the matter of glass windows and shutters are
inferior to our own, but the beds are better made and smoother, with an
abundant supply of mattresses. They are fitted, however, almost always
with small ill-fashioned canopies, and the supply of white sheets
is meagre. Of these, indeed, a solitary traveller, or one with mean
equipage, would most likely go lacking altogether. Charges were the
same, or perhaps a trifle higher than in France. In this town was born
the good Celius, surnamed _Rodoginus_.[32] It is a very handsome place
with a fine square, and the river Adisse flowing through it.

On the morning of Tuesday, November 15, we departed, and after going
some long distance along a causeway like the one at Blois, we crossed,
first the Adisse and then the Po on floating bridges like that of
the day antecedent, save that on the bridges last-named are cabins
where they take payment for the transit according to the printed and
prescribed regulations, and, moreover, stop the raft in the middle of
the stream to do their reckoning and exact payment from all passengers
before suffering them to land. After disembarking on a low-lying plain,
over which the road must be impassable in rainy weather, we journeyed
in one spell to Ferrara, arriving there at eventide, after travelling
twenty miles.

Here on account of the Manifest and bill of health we were kept a
long time at the gate, a delay which had also happened to us at other
places. The city is about the size of Tours and lies in a very level
country. The palaces are numerous; the greater part of the streets are
wide and straight and very scantily peopled. On the Wednesday morning
M. de Montaigne and M. d’Estissac went to kiss the duke’s[33] hands;
their intention having been made known to him, he sent a gentleman of
the court to receive them and conduct them into his cabinet, where he
was with two or three others. We went through several private chambers,
in which we saw divers well-dressed gentlemen, and then entered the
duke’s presence. We found him standing by a table awaiting us. He
raised his hand to his cap when we entered and remained uncovered
during the whole of the conversation, which was somewhat lengthy. First
of all he asked of M. de Montaigne whether he could speak the language
of the country, and, being answered affirmatively, he said in most
eloquent wise, speaking Italian, that it pleased him greatly to see
gentlemen of our nation, he himself being the very obedient servant of
his most Christian Majesty. They conversed together on several other
matters, and then we retired, the duke having kept himself uncovered
all through the interview.

In one of the churches we saw an effigy of Ariosto,[34] the face being
somewhat fuller than in the one given in his works. He died at the age
of fifty-nine on June 6, 1533. Here they served us fruit on plates.
The streets are all paved with bricks, but the arcades, which are
everywhere to be found in Padua, and are vastly convenient for walking
at all times under cover and free from mire, are wanting. In Venice
the streets are paved in similar fashion and on the slope, so there is
never any mud. I forgot to remark that the day we quitted Venice we met
a number of boats filled with fresh water, the contents of a boat being
worth a crown in Venice, where it is used for drinking or dyeing cloth.
After we got to Fusina we saw how the water was raised from a stream
and turned into a canal by means of a wheel kept going without ceasing
by horses. The boats aforesaid lie beneath the mouth of the canal and
are there loaded with water.

We spent all this day at Ferrara and visited there many fine churches,
gardens, and private houses, and all that was by report worth seeing;
amongst other things, a rose bush at the monastery of the Jesuates
which flowers all the year round, and even now they found thereon
a rose which they gave to M. de Montaigne. We saw likewise the
_Bucentaur_, which the duke, in emulation of the one at Venice, had
caused to be built for his new wife,[35] who is fair and far too young
for him, in order that she may sail in the same on the river Po. Next
we visited the duke’s arsenal, where there is a piece of ordnance
thirty-five spans in length and having a bore one foot in diameter.
The thick new wine which we drank and the turbid water drawn from the
river made M. de Montaigne fear an attack of colic. On the door of
every room in the inn is an inscription, “_Ricordati della boletta_,”
and immediately a stranger arrives he must needs send his name and the
number of his attendants to the magistrate, who will then give orders
for lodgment, but if this be not done no one will take them in. On the
Thursday morning we set forth[36] over a level, very fertile country,
and one hard to be traversed by foot passengers should the ways be
miry, because the soil of Lombardy is very sticky. Moreover, the
roads being banked on either side, there is not space enough to allow
foot travellers to escape the mud by walking on the unbroken ground,
wherefore many of the country folk go shod with shoes half a foot high.
We arrived at Boulougne[37] in the evening, after travelling thirty
miles without a halt.

[Illustration: FOUNTAIN AT BOLOGNA

                                               _To face p. 38_, vol. ii.
]

This is a fine handsome town, larger and much more populous than
Ferrara. At the same house in which we lodged the young Seigneur de
Montluc had arrived an hour sooner than ourselves, having come from
France to this city to learn riding and the use of arms. On the Friday
we witnessed some sword play by a certain Venetian, who boasted of
having discovered some new tricks in the art of fencing, all the others
following his lead; in sooth his style differs vastly from the ordinary
sword exercise. The best of his pupils was a young Bordelais named
Binet. We saw there a square clock tower, very ancient, which leaned
over so much that it threatened to fall in ruins; also the School of
Sciences, which is the finest building devoted to such uses I ever
beheld. On the Saturday after dinner we saw a play by the comedians,
with which M. de Montaigne was highly pleased, but from this, or some
other cause, he was troubled afterwards with headache, a distemper
which had not molested him for several years, but it passed away
during the night. Moreover at this time he professed to be freer of
pain in the kidneys than for a long while, and rejoiced in digestive
powers as sane as when he returned from Banieres.

This city is everywhere adorned with fine rich porticoes and a
multitude of beautiful palaces. The cost of living here was very cheap,
about the same as at Padua, but the city is turbulent in some of the
older parts, which are divided between the ancient families of the
city, some of whom favour the French[38] and others the Spaniards,
who abound. In the great square is a very beautiful fountain.[39] On
Sunday M. de Montaigne had made up his mind to take the left-hand road
towards Imola, the March of Ancona and Loreto, on the way to Rome,
but a certain German told him that he had been plundered by outlaws
in the duchy of Spoleto,[40] so he followed the highway to the right
to Florence. We found ourselves at once on a rough road and in a
mountainous country. After a sixteen-mile journey we rested for the
night at Loyan,[41] a small and disagreeable village. In this place
are only two hostelries, and these are famous all through Italy for
the ill-faith there kept with travellers; how the host regales them
with fair promises of all sorts of good cheer before they alight, and
afterwards, when the strangers are at his mercy, will laugh in their
faces. Concerning this are some well-known proverbs. We left early
next morning and travelled till evening over a road which, certes, was
the only bad one we had yet met with. The mountains too gave more
trouble than in any other part of our journeying. We lay that night,
after riding four-and-twenty miles, at Scarperia, a small village of
Tuscany. Here they sell cases of needles and scissors and other similar
wares. M. de Montaigne was there greatly diverted over the dispute of
the innkeepers. These people are wont to despatch lackeys distances of
seven or eight leagues to meet strangers, and to urge them to alight
at their employer’s inn. It is no rare thing to find the host himself
on horseback, and often a troop of men finely clad will follow on your
track. All along this road M. de Montaigne was fain to jest with them,
being vastly amused at the various offers every one of them made to
him, and there was nothing they would not promise. One went so far as
to offer the gift of a hare if only he would patronise a particular
inn. This wrangle and grabbing ceased whenever we reached the town
gates, beyond which they dare not say a word on the subject.

A general practice with all innkeepers is to offer at their own charges
a guide on horseback to show the way, and to carry some portion of the
baggage to the lodging taken. I know not whether they are obliged by
law to do this on account of the insecurity of the highways. At Lojano,
and in travelling from Boulougne, we always made a bargain as to price
paid and accommodation received, and now, on account of the urgency of
the innkeepers and others, M. de Montaigne sent forward always some
one or other of the company to inspect the rooms, the provisions, and
the wines, and to gather knowledge as to how he would fare, before he
should get off his horse. Then he would go to the house of which he
got the best report. But the most careful specification will not guard
entirely against the knavery of these people, for they will keep you
short either of wood, or candles, or linen, or of horse provender,
which you may have forgotten to mention. Many travellers pass along
this route, as it is the high road to Rome. I was informed of a
foolish omission on my part, to wit, that I had neglected to visit, ten
miles on this side of Lojano and two miles off the road, the summit
of a mountain from which, in times of rain and storm or in the night,
lofty flames may be seen to issue.[42] My informant told me that at
certain times it sent forth with a mighty shock small pieces of metal
of the shape of coins. This is a sight which ought not to have been
missed.

On the morning of the morrow we left Scarperia with our host as guide,
traversing a fine road through poplars and well-tilled slopes. At the
second mile we turned off the road to the right to see the palace
which the Duke of Florence has been building for the last two years,
using all the five senses in its embellishment. It seems as if he had
advisedly chosen an inconvenient, sterile, and monotonous site--for
instance, there is no water--in order that he might have the honour
of fetching the same five miles’ distance, and his sand and lime
another five. The site is nowhere level, and gives a view of several of
those small hills which are everywhere a feature in this region. The
palace itself is called Pratellino.[43] Seen from afar, the building
has a mean aspect, but a close inspection shows it very fair, but not
equal to the finest of our French mansions. They say it contains a
hundred-and-twenty furnished chambers, and ten or twelve of the finest
of these we saw, the furniture being pretty but not magnificent. There
are several curiosities, a grotto constructed with divers niches and
apartments which exceeds anything of the kind we have seen elsewhere.
It is encrusted and modelled all through with a certain material
brought from the mountains, the joints being fastened together with
invisible nails. Not only is music and harmony made to sound by water
power; statues move and doors open, animals dive and drink, and other
similar results are caused by the same force. By a single movement the
whole grotto can be filled with water, and all the seats will squirt
water over your breech; then, as you flee from the grotto and run up
the staircase into the mansion on the other side, a pleasant trick will
make the water stream from two of the steps in a thousand jets which
drench you till you reach the top. The beauty and splendour of this
place cannot be set forth properly by details. Below the mansion is an
alley, fifty feet wide and about five hundred paces in length, which at
great cost has been made almost level.[44] On either side are long and
very beautiful benches of worked stone, every five or every ten paces.
Along by these benches are built in the wall the mouths of artificial
fountains, so that all down the alley are jets of water. At the end is
a fair fountain discharging itself into a great basin through a marble
statue, carved in the similitude of a woman starching linen. She is
represented wringing a tablecloth, fashioned in marble, and it is in
dripping from this cloth that the water finds its way out. Below is
another vessel to contain the hot water for making the starch.

In a chamber of the mansion is a marble table with places for six, each
of which is fitted with a cover to be raised by a ring. Beneath each of
these covers is a basin with a supply of fresh water, wherewith each
guest might cool his glass, and in the middle of the table a large
space for the bottle. We saw also great holes in the ground where a
large quantity of snow was kept all through the year. It is set upon
litter of broom and then covered with straw in high pyramidal form
like a small barn. There are a thousand reservoirs; and the duke was
at this time busied in making a colossus, the eye-socket of which is
three cubits in width and all the rest in proportion.[45] The thousand
reservoirs and pools are supplied from two springs through a vast
number of earthen pipes. In a large and beautiful bird-cage we saw some
little birds resembling goldfinches, with two long tail feathers like
large capons; and there is also a curious hothouse. We tarried some two
or three hours in this place, and then, having resumed our journey,
we went for seventeen miles along the crest of divers small hills and
arrived at Florence.

This is a smaller town than Ferrara, placed in a plain and surrounded
by a vast number of well-cultivated hills. The Arno, which is crossed
by divers bridges, runs through it and the walls of the town have no
ditches. This day M. de Montaigne passed two stones and a large amount
of gravel without perceiving anything more than a slight pain in the
lower part of the stomach. On the same day we visited the stables[46]
of the Grand Duke, which are large and arched in the roofs, but no
valuable horses were therein. The Grand Duke is not at present in
residence. We saw there a strange kind of sheep, a camel, some lions
and bears, and an animal as big as a large mastiff, the shape of a
cat, and spotted black and white, which they called a tiger. We went
to the church of Saint Lawrence where those banners of ours which
Marshal Strozzi[47] lost in his Tuscan defeat are still hanging. In
this same church are several specimens of painting on the flat, and
some beautiful statues of excellent workmanship, the work of Michael
Angelo.[48] We next saw the Dome, a very large church, and the bell
tower, covered with black and white marble and one of the fairest and
richest works in the world. M. de Montaigne affirmed that he never saw
a nation so lacking in fair women as the Italian,[49] and the lodgment
he found far less well arranged than in France or Germany; the food,
indeed, was not half so abundant or well served as in Germany. In
neither country is the meat larded, but in Germany it is far better
seasoned, and there is greater variety in sauces and soups. The rooms
themselves in Italy are vastly inferior, no saloons, the windows large,
and all uncovered save by a huge wooden shutter, which would exclude
all daylight if it should be necessary to keep off the sun or the wind,
an inconvenience which M. de Montaigne found still more intolerable
than the lack of curtains in Germany. The chambers are wretched boxes,
meanly curtained, and never more than one set in a room. Under the
hangings is a bed on castors, and any one who is averse to lying hard
will find himself in evil case. There is as great, or greater, want
of linen; and the wines are for the most part inferior, and at this
season undrinkable by all who dislike a mawkish sweetness. The price of
everything is indeed somewhat lower; Florence, however, is reputed to
be one of the dearest towns in Italy. Before my master arrived I made
a bargain at the hostelry of the “Angel”[50] for seven reals a day for
man and horse, and four reals for the servants.

On this same day we inspected one of the duke’s palaces, where certain
men were engaged in counterfeiting eastern jewels, and working in
crystal; for this prince is somewhat given to alchemy and the mechanic
arts, and is above all a great architect. On the morrow M. de Montaigne
went first to the top of the Dome, where he saw the ball of gilded
bronze, which from below seems about the bigness of a bullet, but
which, when one is thereby, proves capable of holding forty men. He
inspected the marble, variegated and carved throughout, with which this
church is encrusted, and found that even the black sort was already
showing signs of decay in many places through the action of the frost
and snow, wherefore he began to doubt whether it was really genuine.
He was minded likewise to visit the palaces of the Strozzi and the
Gondi,[51] which were still occupied by certain members of the said
families, as well as the duke’s palace where Cosimo, the father of
the reigning duke, had caused to be painted the capture of Siena and
scenes in the battle we lost.[52] In divers places in the city, and
notably in the palace aforesaid and on the ancient walls, the _fleur de
lys_ holds the first place of honour. M. d’Estissac and M. de Montaigne
went to dine with the Grand Duke. His wife[53] was seated in the place
of honour, and the duke below her, then the sister-in-law of the
duchess, and then her brother the husband of the aforesaid. According
to the Italian taste the duchess is handsome, with an agreeable and
inspiring face, full bust, and a bosom displaying itself as it may. M.
de Montaigne fully recognised in her the charm by which she has been
able to cajole this prince and to insure his devotion for a long time.
The duke is a big dark man of about my own height,[54] large-limbed,
with a face beaming with courtesy, and always wont to go uncovered
through the crowd of servants, which thing is very seemly. His
appearance is that of a healthy man of forty. On the other side of the
table sat the cardinal[55] and another young man of eighteen, brothers
of the duke. The attendants brought to the duke and the duchess a basin
in which were placed a glass full of wine, uncovered, and a glass
bottle full of water. Having taken the glass of wine, they poured into
the basin as much thereof as they willed, and refilled the glass with
water. Then they replaced the glass in the basin which the attendant
held before them. The duke put into his wine due quantity of water,
the duchess scarcely any. The bad habit of the Germans in using glasses
of an inordinate size is here reversed, seeing that in Italy the wine
glasses are exceedingly small.

I cannot tell why this city should be termed “beautiful,” as it were
by privilege. Beautiful it is, but no more so than Bologna, and little
more than Ferrara, while it falls far short of Venice. You may indeed
discern from the top of the bell tower innumerable houses, which cover
the hills all around for the distance of two or three leagues; and in
the plain, some two leagues in extent, on which the city stands, they
seem to touch, so closely are they built one to another. The city is
paved with flat stones without pattern or regularity. After the dinner
the four gentlemen and a guide took the post to go to visit a place
belonging to the duke which is called _Castello_.[56] There is nothing
of merit in the house, but around it are divers gardens, the entire
place being set on the slope of a hill, so that the main walks are on
the slope, and the cross alleys straight and level; also many arbours,
thickly covered with interwoven twigs of sweet-smelling shrubs, such as
cedar, cypress, orange, citron, and olive, the branches being enlaced
so closely that the sun at his fiercest could not pierce thereinside.
The undergrowth of these cypresses and other trees is so close that
only three or four persons can pass together through it. Amongst the
ponds there is a large one, in the midst of which stands a rock,
imitated from nature, which, by the application of the same material
used by the duke in covering his grottoes at Pratellino, looks as if it
were glazed over; and above it is a large casting of copper worked into
the likeness of a hoary old man seated on his breech with crossed arms.
From his beard, his forehead, and his skin, there is a perpetual drip
of water representing tears and sweat, and indeed this drip is the sole
supply of the basin.

In another part of the garden they encountered a very humorous
experience, for, as they were walking about therein and marking its
curiosities, the gardener for a certain purpose withdrew, and while
they stood gazing at some marble statues, there sprang up under their
feet and between their legs an infinite number of tiny jets of water,
so minute that they resembled exactly drops of rain, and with this they
were sprinkled all over. It was produced by the working of subterranean
machinery which the gardener, being two hundred paces distant, set in
motion. So delicately was it constructed that he was able from where he
was stationed to raise and depress the outflow as he willed. The same
device is to be found in divers other places. They saw also the great
fountain which finds a channel through two vast bronze figures, one of
which, clasped by the other in a violent embrace, seems half-fainting,
and, with head thrown back, belches forth the stream from his mouth.
So great is the force that the column of water rises some thirty-seven
fathoms above the top of these figures, which are themselves twenty
feet high. Here is a little chamber made amongst the boughs of an
evergreen tree of a much more luxuriant growth than any other they
had yet seen. It is entirely clipped out of the green boughs of the
tree aforesaid, so that there is no prospect to be got therefrom, save
through certain apertures which it has been necessary to make here and
there, by clearing away the branches. In the midst of the chamber, from
pipes which are concealed, rises a fountain which is set in the middle
of a marble table. By a certain device the water made music, but this
they were not able to hear, for it would have been too late for people
who had to return to the city. They saw likewise the coat-of-arms of
the duke over a gateway, excellently formed from the branches of trees
fostered and restrained in their natural growth by certain ligaments
which could scarcely be discerned. Their visit was paid in the season
when gardens have their worst aspect, wherefore the wonder was all
the greater. Besides the things described above they saw a beautiful
grotto, in which were fashioned all sorts of animals after nature,
every one of which gave out the water of the fountains, either from
the beak or the wing, or the talon, or the ear, or the nostril. I
forgot to say that in the palace of this prince there is the figure
of a quadruped in bronze after nature, of a very strange form, which
is set up on a column.[57] The foreparts are scaly, and upon the back
are members of a fashion I cannot describe--somewhat like horns. The
story is that it was discovered in a cave in the adjacent mountains
and brought hither alive several years ago. We saw likewise the palace
of the Queen Mother[58]; and M. de Montaigne, according to his wont,
was minded to test the capabilities of the city by looking at rooms
which were to let and boarding-houses, but he found none worth notice.
From what was told him it appeared that lodgings were only to be had
at the hostelries, and the private apartments which he saw were far
more costly than those of Paris, or even of Venice. The table was
mean, and cost more than twelve crowns per mensem for the gentlefolk.
In this city no seemly diversion was to be had, neither in arms, nor
horsemanship, nor letters.[59] Pewter ware is very scarce in these
parts, the service being made on vessels of painted earthenware none
too clean.




VI

JOURNEY TO ROME


On the morning of Thursday, November 24, we departed and found
ourselves in a country fairly fertile, thickly peopled, and everywhere
under tillage. The road was uneven and stony, and, after a very long
journey, we arrived late at night at Siena, thirty-two miles, or four
posts, which here they reckon of eight miles, somewhat longer than
ours usually are. On the Friday we examined the place carefully,
especially with respect to our own military operations therein.[60]
The site of the city is very irregular, for it is built on the
ridge of a hill, where most of the streets are to be found. Other
thoroughfares lead down the slopes on either side by means of steps,
some of these mounting the opposite hill to various levels. The city
is about the same size as Florence, and one of the fairest of Italy,
but not of the first order, its great antiquity being proclaimed by
its aspect. Everywhere fountains are plentiful, but it is said that
individual persons draw water privately from the conduits for their
particular use. Here are to be found fine cool cellars. The Dome,
which is scarcely inferior to that at Florence, is covered almost
entirely within and without with marble of the place: square pieces,
some a foot thick, some less, are used for panelling the same, for they
always cover thus buildings of brick, the common building material
of this land. The most beautiful portion of the city is the circular
market-place, a fine expanse which slopes from all sides towards
the palace, which in itself forms one of the segments of the circle,
somewhat less curved than the rest. In front of the palace, and at the
highest point of the market-place, is a very beautiful fountain, which
discharges itself by several pipes, and fills a great basin where any
one may take at will the purest water.[61] Several streets open into
this place, the pavement being set in steps. In the town are many
streets, certain of them being very ancient. The chief of these is the
Piccolomini, then the Tolomei, the Colombini and the Cerretani.[62]
We saw indications of an antiquity of three or four hundred years. The
arms of the city, which are displayed on columns in several places,
represent the she-wolf which gave suck to Romulus and Remus.

The Duke of Florence treats with courtesy the nobles who are in our
interest, and keeps about his person Silvio Piccolomini, a gentleman
who is better endowed than any other of our day in all sorts of science
and in the practice of arms.[63] The duke being chiefly concerned in
guarding himself from his own subjects, leaves to his various cities
the duty of fortifying themselves, but keeps a hold on the citadels,
which are provisioned and guarded with great outlay of money and
labour, and with such watchful suspicion that few people are allowed
to approach them. The women mostly wear bonnets, and we marked some
who, by way of reverence, removed their headgear like the men at
the moment of the elevation of the Host. We found lodging at the
“Crown,”[64] which was fairly good, but we had no glass or even linen
windows.

M. de Montaigne, when he was asked by the house-steward at Pratellino
whether he was not amazed at the beauty of the place, replied,
after certain words of praise, that he was greatly offended by the
ill-seeming of the doors and windows, and of the great pinewood tables,
without shape or ornament; with the rude and insecure locks, like those
used in our villages, and with the roofs of hollow tiles. Moreover, he
declared that, if it were found impossible to conceal these tiles by
the use of slate or lead or brass, they might at least keep them out
of sight by the arrangement of the building, and the steward said he
would carry this counsel to his master.

The duke leaves unmolested the ancient marks and devices of the city,
which everywhere echo the cry of “Liberty.” Again, as to the tombs
and epitaphs of the French who died here, they have removed them to a
remote corner of the town, under the pretence of some reconstruction
and rebuilding of the church wherein they were placed. On Saturday the
26th, after dinner, we went twelve miles through a country resembling
the last we traversed, and arrived in time for supper at Buonconvento,
a Tuscan _Castello_, a word they apply to the walled villages which,
from their smallness, do not merit the name of town. Early on Sunday
morning we departed therefrom, and because M. de Montaigne desired
to see Montalcino, on account of the associations of the French
therewith, he turned off the road to the right and, with M. d’Estissac,
M. de Mattecoulon, and M. du Hautoy, repaired to the town aforesaid,
which they described as an ill-built place, about the size of Saint
Emilion,[65] situated on the top of the highest mountain of the
district, but still accessible. They heard High Mass which was being
said there. At one end of the town is a castle garrisoned for the duke,
but M. de Montaigne was of opinion that it was faulty as a stronghold,
being commanded on one side by another mountain some hundred paces
distant.

In the duke’s dominions the people hold the French in such great
affection that the awakening of any memory of our country will almost
certainly bring tears to their eyes. It would seem that they prefer
even war, with some form of freedom, to the peace they enjoy under
their tyrant. M. de Montaigne inquired whether there were not certain
French tombs in the town,[66] and was informed that these formerly
were in the church of S. Agostino, but that by the command of the
duke the remains had been buried in the earth. Our road lay through a
mountainous, stony country for twenty-three miles, and in the evening
we came to La Paille, a little village of five or six houses, at the
foot of sterile and forbidding mountains. Early next morning we resumed
our journey, traversing a deep and very stony valley, and passing and
repassing a hundred times a torrent which flowed through the same. At
the limit of the duke’s territory we came to a fine bridge, built by
Pope Gregory,[67] and entered the States of the Church, coming first to
Acquapendente, a small town which, as I believe, takes its name from a
torrent hard by which falls from the rocks down on to the plain. Then
we passed a _Castello_, called S. Lorenzo, and another, Bolsena, and
turning round the Lake of Bolsena, which is thirty miles long, ten
wide, and has in its midst islands on which they say are monasteries,
we went in one bout of twenty-six miles over a rocky and barren road
to Montefiascone, a little town placed on the summit of one of the
highest mountains in the country. It is very small, but shows signs of
great antiquity. We quitted it next morning, and crossed a fine fertile
plain, in which is situated Viterbo, part of the town being built on
the crest of a hill. This is a fine place, about the size of Senlis, in
which we observed many handsome houses, numerous workmen, fair pleasant
streets, and three very beautiful fountains in divers parts of the
town. On account of the beauty of the place M. de Montaigne would fain
have tarried there, but his baggage mule, which he sent in advance,
had already passed onward. Here we began the ascent of the flank of a
high mountain, and at the end of the descent on the farther side we
came upon the little Lake of Vico. Then, having traversed a delightful
valley, bordered by gentle hills rich in wood--a commodity very rare
in these parts--and by the lake aforesaid, we found ourselves in good
time at Rossiglione,[68] after riding nineteen miles.

This is a small town, with a castle belonging to the Duke of Parma;
indeed, along this road are to be found several mansions and estates
belonging to the Farnese family. Lodging on this road is of the best,
inasmuch as it is the great post road. They charge five giulios[69] for
the hire of a horse, and two for the post, and they make the same terms
if the horses are hired for two or three posts, or for several days,
in which case the hirer has no trouble about the horses; for, from
one place to another, the innkeepers take charge of those belonging
to their neighbours, and, moreover, they will make a contract under
which you may be supplied with a fresh horse elsewhere on the road
in case one of your own should fail. At Siena we saw for ourselves
how a man trusted a horse to a certain Fleming, who was travelling
in company with us, alone, unknown, and a stranger to the owner of
the horse, simply on the condition that the horse hire should be paid
before starting. In every other respect the horse is at your disposal,
under your promise that you will leave him where you have agreed. M.
de Montaigne, adapting himself, as was his wont, to the custom of the
country, fell into the way of dining early and supping late, for in the
good houses the dinner is only served at noon, and the supper at nine
o’clock; for instance, in these places where we found playhouses the
acting began by torchlight at six, and lasted two or three hours; then
we returned to sup. M. de Montaigne would remark that this was a good
country for lazy folk, seeing the hour of rising was so late.

On the morrow we set forth three hours before daybreak, so keenly
was M. de Montaigne set on seeing the Roman plain by day. He found
the cold air of morning as hurtful to his stomach as that of the
evening,[70] and was ill at ease till sunrise, though the night was
fine. After the fifteenth milestone we caught sight of the city of
Rome: then we lost it for some long time. On the road we passed several
villages and inns. We came upon some portions of road, elevated and
paved with large stones, having about them a certain look of antiquity;
and nearer to the city we remarked some masonry, evidently of great
age, and stones which the Popes had caused to be reinstated on account
of their antiquarian interest. The greater part of the ruins--the
baths of Diocletian, for instance--are of bricks, small and plain like
those we use, and not of the size and thickness of those we see in the
ancient ruins of France and elsewhere. On our road the city did not
show itself very plainly. Far on the left hand were the Apennines, the
aspect of the country being unpleasing, rugged, full of deep clefts,
and unfitted for the passage of troops or ordnance. All the land is
treeless, and a good part of it sterile, and lying open for ten miles
and more, the houses being very sparse, as in all countries of this
sort. Travelling thus we went thirty miles, and arrived on the last day
of November--Saint Andrew’s day--at the Porta del Popolo of Rome.




VII

ROME


Here they raised difficulties as in other places concerning the plague
raging at Genoa. We went to lodge at the “Bear,”[71] and stayed there
the following day also, and on the 2nd of December we hired apartments
in the house of a Spaniard in front of Santa Lucia della Tinta.[72] We
were well accommodated in three fine chambers, a living room, a larder,
a stable, and a kitchen, for twenty crowns a month, the host finding in
addition a cook and fire in the kitchen. Here the apartments are as a
rule furnished somewhat better than in Paris, inasmuch as they use much
gilded leather in the upholstering of all houses of consideration.
We might have had lodging at the “Vaso d’Oro” hard by at the same
price, furnished with silk and cloth of gold such as kings use, but
M. de Montaigne objected, first because the chambers had no separate
entrances, and next because the magnificence of this furniture was not
only useless in itself, but liable to give great trouble in keeping it
from hurt, each bed being of the value of four or five hundred crowns.
At our lodging we made a bargain for a supply of linen, as we should
have done in France, but of this, as is the way of the country, they
were somewhat sparing.

[Illustration: THE ROMAN FORUM FROM THE CAPITOL

_From Piranesi’s Views of Rome_

                                               _To face p. 74_, vol. ii.
]

M. de Montaigne was annoyed to find such great number of Frenchmen
in Rome,[73] so great that almost every person he met in the streets
addressed him in his own tongue. He found novelty in the sight of so
mighty a court, thronged with prelates and churchmen, and declared that
Rome was far fuller of rich men and coaches and horses than any other
city he had ever seen, and that the seeming of the streets in various
ways, and notably in the crowds of people, reminded him more of Paris
than of any other place. The present city is placed along either bank
of the Tiber. The hilly quarter, where the ancient city stood, and
whither M. de Montaigne went every day to walk and to survey the site,
is now divided between certain churches, and rich houses and gardens
belonging to the cardinals. He found clear evidence to show that the
configuration and slopes of the hills had altogether changed since
ancient times. He judged from the height of the ruins, and was fully
assured that in certain places we were walking over the roof-ridges
of houses still intact; indeed it is easy to see by the state of the
Arch of Severus that we now stand more than two pikes’ length above the
ancient level, and that we walk on the tops of the old walls, which the
rains and the coach wheels occasionally bring into sight.

M. de Montaigne would not admit that liberty existed in Rome equal to
that enjoyed in Venice, and would advance by way of arguments the facts
that houses were so insecure against robbers that people who might
bring home with them a large amount of property usually determined to
give their purses in charge of the bankers of the city so as not to
find their strong boxes rifled, which mishap had befallen many; that
it was by no means safe to walk abroad by night; that in this month
of December the General of the Cordeliers had been suddenly deprived
of his office and imprisoned because in his preaching, at which were
present the Pope and the cardinals, he had censured the sloth and
luxury of the prelates of the Church, and this without mentioning
names and simply using commonplace remarks on the subject with a
certain harshness of voice; that his own boxes had been searched by the
tax-officers on entering the city and turned over even to the smallest
articles of apparel, while in the other towns of Italy the officers
had been satisfied by the presentation of the boxes for search; that
in addition they had seized all the books they found there with the
view of inspecting them, over which task they spent so much time that
any one in different case might well have given up the books as lost.
Again the regulations were so extraordinary that one of these books,
the “Hours of our Lady,” having been printed at Paris and not in Rome,
was looked at with suspicion, as were certain books against heretics by
German doctors who, in argument, happened to make mention of the errors
of their opponents. At this juncture he congratulated himself over his
good fortune in that, having no premonition of the search which awaited
him, and having passed through Germany where forbidden books abound, he
had not brought away with him a single one of these, notwithstanding
the curious interest which often possessed him with regard to divers
of them. Certain gentlemen from Germany informed him that had any such
volume been found, he would have paid the penalty by losing all his
books.

On Christmas Day we went to hear the Papal Mass at St. Peter’s, M. de
Montaigne being accommodated with a seat from which he could behold at
his ease all the ceremonial. They used certain particular forms; to
wit, they read the Gospel and the Epistle first in Latin and then in
Greek, a custom followed also on Easter Day, and on the feast of St.
Peter. The Pope himself[74] let divers others communicate, and with
him officiated the Cardinals Farnese,[75] Medici,[76] Caraffa,[77]
and Gonzaga. In taking the cup they use a certain instrument to
prevent danger of poison.[78] It seemed strange to M. de Montaigne
that, at this mass and at others beside, the Pope and cardinals and
other prelates kept seated with heads covered and talked together the
while. The whole ceremony indeed was marked by splendour rather than
by devotion. Touching the beauty of the Roman ladies, M. de Montaigne
affirmed that this was not notable enough to raise the reputation of
this city beyond all others; moreover that, as in Paris, the most
remarkable beauty belonged to those who made a market of the same.

On December 29th M. d’Abein,[79] our ambassador, a learned gentleman
and a longstanding friend of M. de Montaigne, advised him to go
and kiss the feet of the Pope. M. de Montaigne and M. d’Estissac
went in the coach of the ambassador, who, after he had been granted
an audience, caused them to be called by the Pope’s chamberlain.
According to custom, only the ambassador was with the Pope, who had by
his side a bell which he would ring when he might wish any one to be
introduced. The ambassador was seated, uncovered, at his left hand;
the Pope himself never uncovers before any one, nor can any ambassador
remain covered in his presence. M. d’Estissac entered first, then M. de
Montaigne, then M. de Mattecoulon, and last M. d’Hautoy. After taking a
step or two into the chamber, in a corner of which sits the Pope, the
incomer, whoever he may be, kneels and waits for the Pope to give him
benediction. This done, he will rise and advance to the middle of the
room, but a stranger rarely approaches the Pope by going direct across
the floor, the more ordinary practice being to turn to the left on
entering, and then, after making a détour along the wall, to approach
his chair. But when the stranger has gone half the distance he must
kneel again on one knee, and, having received a second benediction,
next advances as far as the thick carpet spread out some seven or eight
feet in front of the Pope. Here he must kneel on both knees, while the
ambassador who presents him kneels on one, and moves back the Pope’s
robe from his right foot, which is shod in a red shoe with a white
cross thereupon. The kneeling stranger must keep himself in the same
posture until he is close to the Pope’s foot, and then bend down to
kiss it. M. de Montaigne declared that the Pope raised the point of his
foot a little. They all kissed it one after the other, making room for
each other after the ceremony was done. Then the ambassador covered the
Pope’s foot, and, having risen to his seat, said what seemed necessary
on behalf of M. d’Estissac and M. de Montaigne. The Pope, with
courteous expression of face, admonished M. d’Estissac to cultivate
learning and virtue, and M. de Montaigne to maintain the devotion he
had always exhibited towards the Church and the interests of the most
Christian King: whatever service he could do them they might depend on,
this being an Italian figure of speech. They said nothing, but, having
been blessed again before rising as a sign of dismissal, they went back
in the same order. Each one retreats as it seems best, but the ordinary
custom is to go backward, or at least sideways, so as always to look
the Pope in the face. As in entering, each one kneels half-way on one
knee for another benediction, and again at the door for the last.

The Pope in speaking Italian betrays his Bolognese descent, the idiom
of this city being the worst in Italy; and besides this, his speech
is halting by nature. In other respects he is a very fine old man, of
medium height, and upright, with a face full of majesty, and a long
white beard. His age is over eighty, and for his years he is the most
healthy and vigorous man possible, troubled neither with gout nor
colic nor stomach complaints nor oppression of any kind. By nature he
is kind, caring little about affairs of state, a great builder, and in
the last-named capacity he will leave a memory highly honoured in Rome
and elsewhere. In almsgiving he is somewhat excessive. Amongst other
proofs of this, [it may be recorded that he is wont to help any girl
of the lower orders in furnishing her home on her marriage, and report
says that he shows the same liberality in ready money.][80] Besides
this, he has built colleges for the Greeks, the English, the Scots, the
French, the Germans, and the Poles, endowing each one with a perpetual
revenue of ten thousand crowns, over and beyond the vast cost of
building. This he has done to bring back to the Church the sons of the
nations aforesaid, who were corrupted by evil opinions hostile to her.
There the pupils are lodged, fed, clothed, and taught, and provided
with everything without the expense of a single quattrino of their own
on any account. Vexatious public duties he readily lets fall on the
backs of others, and shrinks from troubling himself therewith. He gives
as many audiences as are demanded. His replies are brief and decisive,
and it is loss of time to oppose them by fresh reasoning. Nothing will
move him from a decision which he believes to be a just one; and even
for his own son,[81] whom he loves passionately, he will not stir a
finger against his idea of justice.[82] He gives advancement to his
relatives, but without trenching upon the rights of the Church, which
he preserves intact. He has done magnificent work in public buildings
and in remodelling the streets of the city. In sooth, it may be said
that his life and doings call for no special remark, neither in one nor
in the other respect, but that his leaning is strongly towards good.

On the last day of December these two[83] dined with M. le Cardinal de
Sens, who is more strict in his observance of Roman ceremonies than any
other Frenchman. The _Benedicite_ and the graces were very long, and
were said by two chaplains, who responded one to the other as if they
were saying the office in church, and during the repast a paraphrase in
Italian of the gospel of the day was read. Both before and after dinner
they all washed their hands, and to each one a napkin was served for
use at table. Before the guests who sat beside or facing the host--as
a mark of special honour--they placed the large silver trays with salt
cellars, made like those which are put before guests of worship in
France. Upon these trays was a napkin folded in four, and on the napkin
was laid bread, a knife, a fork, and a spoon, and over all another
napkin for use at table, the one first-named being left undisturbed.
After the guests had seated themselves another plate of silver or
earthenware would be placed beside the silver tray aforesaid, and this
the guest would use during the repast. The carver gives a portion of
whatever is served at table to all those seated, who never touch the
dishes with their hands. Moreover, the dish set before the host is
rarely shared by any of the guests.

To M. de Montaigne they served drink as they usually served it at the
ambassador’s house whenever he dined there; that is, they brought him a
silver basin in which was a glass with wine, and a little bottle about
the size of those used for ink full of water. He took the glass in his
right hand, and in his left the bottle, from which he poured as much
water as he desired into the glass, and then replaced the bottle in the
basin. When he drank the servant who waited on him held the basin below
his chin, and afterwards replaced the glass in the basin aforesaid,
such ceremony being observed only in the case of one or two sitting
near the host. After the grace the table broke up at once, and the
chairs were arranged along one side of the hall, where M. le Cardinal
made them sit after he had seated himself. Two churchmen, finely clad,
and bearing in their hands certain instruments of a kind I had never
seen before, now appeared; and, having knelt down, they recited a
church service of some kind or other. The cardinal said nothing to
them, but as they rose to depart, after having finished their service,
he slightly moved his cap. A short time afterwards he took his guests
in his coach to the Consistory Hall, where the cardinals were assembled
for vespers. The Pope came also, and robed himself there to attend the
service; the cardinals did not kneel at his benediction, as the people
did, but acknowledged it with a profound inclination of the head.

On January 3rd, 1581, the Pope passed beneath our windows, and before
him went some two hundred horses belonging to personages of the court,
of one robe or the other. Close beside him was the Cardinal dei Medici,
who conversed with him covered, and took him to his house to dinner.
The Pope wore a red hat, a white garment, and a red velvet cowl,
as is the habit. He was mounted on a white hackney, harnessed with
red velvet, and with fringe and lace of gold. Though he was nearly
eighty-one, he mounted without any aid, and every fifteen paces or
so he gave his benediction. After him came three cardinals, and then
some hundred men-at-arms, each with lance on thigh, and fully armoured
save the head. They had in readiness also another hackney with like
equipment, a mule, a handsome white courser, and a litter. Also two
robe-bearers with valises at their saddle-bows.

On January 11th, in the morning, as M. de Montaigne was leaving the
house on horseback to go to the bank, he met Catena,[84] a famous
robber and banditti chief, whom they were taking away from the prison.
This man had raised a panic all through Italy, monstrous tales of
murder being told about him; notably concerning two Capuchins, whom
he forced to deny God, and promised to spare their lives on this
condition. But he slew them afterwards without any motive either of
gain or of vengeance. M. de Montaigne halted to behold the spectacle.
Over and beyond the escort customary in France, they let precede the
criminal a huge crucifix draped with black, at the foot of which went
a great crowd of men wearing cloaks and masks of cloth, and these were
said to be of the chief gentlefolk of Rome, a confraternity sworn to
accompany criminals to execution and corpses to the grave. Two of
these--or two monks in similar garb--helped the condemned man into the
cart and preached to him, one of them letting him kiss continually a
picture of our Lord. This they did so that those in the street might
not see the man’s face. At the gibbet, which was a beam upon two posts,
they held this picture before his face till he was thrown off the
ladder. He died as criminals commonly do, without movement or cry; a
dark man of thirty or thereabout, and after he was strangled they cut
his body in four quarters. It is the custom amongst these people to
kill criminals without torture, and after death to subject the body
to very barbarous usage. M. de Montaigne remarked that he had written
elsewhere how deeply people are moved by the cruelties practised upon
dead bodies,[85] and on this occasion the crowd, who had not felt any
pity at the hanging, cried out in lamentation at every stroke of the
axe. As soon as he was dead divers Jesuits or other churchmen went up
to a high place and cried to the people on all sides that they should
take to heart this example.

We remarked in Italy, and especially in Rome, that very few of the
churches have clocks, there being fewer in Rome than in the meanest
French village. Also very few images are to be seen, save those made
recently, several ancient churches being quite bare thereof. On January
14th M. de Montaigne saw the execution of two brothers, formerly
servants of the Castellan’s secretary, who some days ago slew their
master by night in the palace of Signor Jacomo Buoncompagno, the
Pope’s son. Their flesh was torn with pincers and their hands cut
off, in front of the aforesaid palace, and after this mutilation they
put over the wounds the bodies of capons which they had killed and
cut open just before.[86] This execution took place on a scaffold,
where the criminals were first knocked down with heavy wooden clubs,
and then their throats were cut; it is, so the report goes, a form of
punishment used in Rome from time to time, but some held that it had
been specially appointed for this misdeed, for that the criminals had
killed their master in like manner.

As to the bigness of Rome, M. de Montaigne declared that the space
which the walls enclose, more than a third thereof being void, and the
site of old and new Rome as well, would equal an enclosure made round
Paris to take in all the faubourgs. But, reckoning the bulk of the two
cities by the number and closeness of the houses and inhabitants, he
deemed that Rome would fall short of Paris by one-third. In number and
grandeur of public places, and in beauty of streets and palaces, Rome
seemed far superior.

He found the cold of winter little less bitter than that of Gascony.
About Christmas there were sharp frosts and the wind was intolerably
cold; and after that it frequently thundered, hailed, and lightened.
In the palaces the suites of apartments are large, one room after the
other, and you may have to pass through three or four rooms before
you come to the chief saloon. In certain houses where M. de Montaigne
dined in ceremony the buffet was not set in the dining-room, but in one
adjoining, whither the servants would go to fetch drink for whomsoever
might call for it; there too was displayed the silver plate.

[Illustration: CLOACA MAXIMA

_From Piranesi’s Views of Rome_

                                               _To face p. 94_, vol. ii.
]

On Thursday, January 26th, M. de Montaigne went to see the Janiculum
Hill beyond the Tiber and the curiosities of that part; amongst
others a great fall of masonry from the old walls which had happened
a few days before, and the view of the whole of Rome, which can be
surveyed more clearly from this spot than from any other. Thence he
went down to the Vatican to inspect the statues set in the niches of
the Belvedere, and the fine gallery,[87] now almost completed, which
the Pope is adorning with paintings of all parts of Italy. He lost his
purse and all therein, and deemed this must have happened while he was
giving alms--as he did twice or thrice; the weather was very rainy
and unpleasant, and, instead of returning his purse to his pocket, he
must have thrust it into the slashing of his hose. At this time he
diverted himself entirely in studying Rome. He had at first engaged a
Frenchman as guide, but this fellow took himself off in some ridiculous
humour, whereupon M. de Montaigne prided himself on mastering by his
own efforts the art of a guide. In the evening he would study certain
books and maps, and next day repair to the spot and put in practice his
apprenticeship, so that in a few days he could have shown his guide the
way.

M. de Montaigne affirmed that he could now see nothing more of Rome
than the sky under which it lay and the area of its site; that all the
knowledge he possessed thereof was of an abstract and contemplative
nature, a knowledge in no way to be apprehended by the operation of
the senses; that those who affirmed that they might at least behold
the ruins of Rome, affirmed too much. The ruins of a mechanism of
such terrible power suggested to his own mind reverence and respect
rather than comprehension. What he saw was nought but a sepulchre. The
world, resentful at her long domination, first broke and shattered all
the portions of this marvellous whole, and then, horror-stricken at
this spectacle of death, ruin, and disfigurement, entombed the ruins
themselves. As to these minor indications of her overthrow which yet
lie upon her bier, they have been preserved by fate as a testimony
to that immeasurable greatness which all these centuries, all these
conflagrations, all these repeated alliances of the powers of the
world, have failed to destroy entirely. But it was almost certain that
these defaced fragments which survived were those of the least merit,
for the rage of the enemies of this immortal renown would surely have
prompted them to destroy in the first instance all that was most lovely
and most noble. He declared that the buildings of this bastard Rome,
which were now being joined on to the ancient masonry (what though
they sufficed to kindle the admiration of the present age), reminded
him exactly of the nests the martins and crows were building in the
roofs and on the walls of the French churches which the Huguenots had
destroyed.[88]

[Illustration: THE VILLA OF MECÆNAS

_From Piranesi’s Views of Rome_

                                               _To face p. 98_, vol. ii.
]

Again M. de Montaigne was persuaded, considering the space occupied
by this vast tomb, that the present age failed to realise its full
extent, and that the greater part of the sepulchre itself must be
buried. As to this, one has only to consider the base off-cast of a
great city; how out of the fragments of broken tiles and pots from
ancient days, a mound has been heaped together of so vast a size that
it equals in height and breadth several natural mountains (he compared
this mound as to height with the hill of Gurson, and judged it to be
double the width).[89] It seemed to represent an express decree of
the Fates to make plain to the world how they had conspired to render
this city glorious and paramount; to bear witness to its grandeur
by so strange and extraordinary a token. He declared it was hard to
understand--considering how narrow was the space occupied by some
of the hills, and notably by the most famous, the Capitol and the
Palatine--how such a large number of buildings could be there bestowed.
Looking only at the remains of the Temple of Peace by the side of the
_Forum Romanum_ (of which one may still behold the recent ruin, like
that of a vast mountain broken up into divers ugly crags), it was
apparent that two such edifices could hardly have found room on the
entire summit of the Capitol, where there were twenty-five or thirty
temples, besides several private houses. But in sooth the various
conjectures which have been adopted for the delineation of this ancient
city possess scarcely any verisimilitude, seeing that the very site
thereof has changed its contour beyond measure, and that certain of
its valleys have been filled up. To wit, in the lowest-lying spots,
as, for instance, in the Velabrum, which, on account of its situation,
received the sewage of the city, and had a lake in its midst, there
is now to be found a hill as high as the other natural hills adjacent
thereto.[90] All this has come about by the accumulation of the ruins
and fragments of the huge buildings, the Monte Savello being nought
else than a portion of the theatre of Marcellus. M. de Montaigne did
not deem that an ancient Roman would recognise the site of his city
were he to behold it.

[Illustration: TEMPLE OF JANUS

_From Piranesi’s Views of Rome_

                                               _To face p. 98_, vol. ii.
]

It would often happen to one digging deep in the earth to come upon the
capital of a lofty column which still stood on its base far below; and
builders were wont to seek for their erections no other foundations
than some mass of ancient masonry, or on arches such as are commonly
seen in cellars, or on some old wall or substructure existing on the
site. And upon the very wrecks of the ancient buildings, as they fall
to ruin, the builders set out casually the foundations of new houses,
as if these fragments were great masses of rock, firm and trustworthy.
It is evident that many of the old streets lie more than thirty feet
below the level of those now in existence.

On January 28th M. de Montaigne had colic, which, however, did not
interfere with his customary movements, and passed one rather large
stone and some small ones. On the 30th he witnessed the most ancient
religious ceremony that still subsists amongst men--to wit, the
circumcision of the Jews--and gave most attentive and profitable
attention thereto. He had already visited their synagogue one Saturday
morning, and heard their prayers, when they sang in irregular wise
certain portions of the Hebrew Bible suited to the occasion, after the
manner of the Calvinist churches. They are cadences of similar sound,
but the discord is excessive by reason of the mixing together of
voices of all ages, for even the youngest children are of the party,
and all understand Hebrew but indifferently. They are no more attentive
to their prayers than we are, for they talk of other things during
their service, and exhibit little reverence for their mysteries. At
the entrance they wash their hands, and inside they count it a curse
to remove their headgear, but they do reverence, as their worship
ordains, by bowing and kneeling. On the shoulders or on the head they
wear certain pieces of linen decked with fringe; but to describe
these details would take too much time. After dinner their doctors
give instruction by turns upon the passage of the Bible for the day,
speaking in Italian, and next an assistant doctor selects one of the
hearers, or sometimes two or three in succession, to hold argument
with the one who has been teaching upon the subject of his discourse.
It seemed to M. de Montaigne that the man we heard displayed great
eloquence and mental power in arguing his case.

But as to the circumcision itself, this ceremony takes place in the
private house, the lightest and most convenient chamber thereof being
chosen for the purpose. In this particular case, because the dwelling
itself was ill suited therefor, the ceremony took place in the lobby
by the door. As with us a godfather and a godmother are provided for
the child, whom the father names, and the circumcision is performed the
eighth day after birth. The godfather seats himself on a table with
a pillow on his lap, and the godmother brings to him the child and
then withdraws, the child being swaddled after our own fashion. The
godfather then loosens the bandages below, and the assistants and the
one whose duty it is to perform the operation all begin a chant and
continue to sing during the operation, which takes about a quarter of
an hour. He who officiates need not be a rabbi, and any one of them,
whoever he may be, will be anxious to discharge this duty, because they
hold that frequent bidding to such a function is a great blessing:
nay, they will pay to be called in, offering here a vestment and there
something else useful to the child. Moreover, they believe that any
one who may circumcise a particular number of children will enjoy a
certain privilege after death, to wit, that the parts about the mouth
will never be eaten by worms. On the table where the godfather sits
they forthwith lay out plentiful provision of all instruments necessary
for this operation, and in addition to these an assistant holds in his
hands a phial of wine and a glass. There is also an earthen brazier,
at which the operator first warms his hands; and then the child, with
the swaddling bands unloosed, is presented to him by the godfather,
who holds it in his lap with the head towards himself. The operator
then takes hold of the part and pulls forward the skin thereof with
one hand and with the other thrusts back the fleshy substance and
fixes a silver instrument on the skin. This instrument, kept close to
the flesh within, holds the foreskin in proper position and prevents
any injury to the other parts from the act of cutting. This done, he
cuts off the skin and buries it at once in some earth, which along
with other apparatus of the mystery is beside him, ready prepared in
a basin, and then with his bare nails proceeds to remove any other
particle of skin which may be left on the flesh. This operation is one
requiring considerable skill and is somewhat painful, but it is quite
free from danger and the wound is almost always healed after four or
five days. The children cry as ours cry when they are baptized. As
soon as the operation is done, the bystanders hand forthwith to the
operator some wine, who, after having taken some of it into his mouth,
sucks the bleeding flesh and then empties his mouth, repeating this act
thrice. Then they give him in a wrap of paper red powder, which they
call dragon’s blood, and with this he dresses and covers the wound,
and then binds up the same neatly with linen cut for the purpose. He
is offered a glass full of wine which, according to report, he blesses
by the words he speaks over it, and then drinks a mouthful. He next
dips his finger in it and thrice lets the child suck some drops of
wine therefrom. This glass they send as it is to the mother and the
women of the family who are in some other part of the house, that
they may finish the wine that remains. Then another, a third person,
takes a silver instrument, made round like a tennis ball, with a long
handle thereto, and pierced with little holes like our perfume boxes,
and holds it first to the nose of the operator, next to the child,
and last to the godfather. They believe that the odours therein help
to strengthen and purify the soul for devotion. The operator meantime
bears the stains of blood on his mouth.

On the 8th and on to the 12th M. de Montaigne had symptoms of colic
and passed some stones, but without any great pain. This year, by
the Pope’s permission, greater liberty was given for the Carnival
festivities than for many years past, but even now we found them of
little account. Along the Corso, a long street of the city which gets
its name on this account, they start a race, now of children, now of
Jews,[91] and now of old men naked, who ran from one end of the street
to the other; but the onlooker sees nothing of the sport, save when
they run past where he may be posted. There are also races of horses,
ridden by young boys, who urge them on with whips, and of asses and
buffaloes driven along by the goads of horsemen in the rear. In all the
races a prize is offered, called _el palo_ which is given in the form
of pieces of velvet or cloth. In a certain part of the street where the
ladies can best see them certain nobles run the quintain, mounted on
fine horses, and make a graceful show, for the nobility of this country
commonly show greater knowledge of horsemanship than of aught else.
The scaffold which M. de Montaigne caused to be erected cost three
crowns, and was placed in an excellent situation in the street.

At this season all the fair gentlewomen of Rome let themselves be seen
freely, for in Italy they do not go masked as in France, but with all
the face uncovered. As to anything like rare and perfect beauty, M.
de Montaigne declared it was no more to be found here than in France;
and that, except in three or four cases, he found none that was
remarkable. But taken as a whole the women’s faces are more agreeable,
and fewer ugly ones are to be seen than in France. The head is far
more becomingly dressed than with us, and the parts below the girdle
also, but the French ladies have more care to the figure, for here the
girdle is worn too loose, somewhat as our ladies who are with child
wear it. Their countenances are stately, gentle, and sweet. In raiment
they are incomparably more sumptuous than our ladies, everything being
covered with pearls and jewels. Whenever they go abroad, whether in a
coach or to a festivity or to the theatre, they keep apart from men:
nevertheless in certain dances they mix freely enough, and find full
opportunity of conversing and touching hands. The men on all occasions
go clad very simply in black or Florentine serge, and are somewhat
darker in skin than we are. I cannot say why they do not use their
titles of duke, count, and marquis, when they have full right thereto,
seeing that their appearance is somewhat ordinary. Otherwise they are
most courteous, and as gracious as they can be, in spite of what is
asserted by the baser sort of Frenchmen, who never find any gentility
in those who resent their turbulence and insolent carriage. In every
way we do our utmost to win a bad name, nevertheless the Italians nurse
their ancient affection and reverence for France, which secures respect
and welcome for all who deserve the same ever so little, and bear
themselves without offence.

On the following Thursday he went to a feast given by the Castellan
for which vast preparation had been made, notably an amphitheatre very
artistically and sumptuously disposed for the sport of tilting, the
courses being run in the evening before supper. The amphitheatre was
erected in a square barn, a section, oval in form, having been set
out in the centre for the purpose. Amongst other curious devices the
floor was painted with the utmost despatch with certain designs in
red. This floor had previously been covered with plaster, then they
laid thereupon a piece of parchment or leather with designs according
to their taste cut out of the same, and lastly they painted this with
a brush dipped in red paint so as to leave on the plaster under the
openings the design they wished for. So rapid was their work that
they might easily have decorated the nave of a church in two hours.
At supper the ladies were served by their husbands, who stood by them
and gave them to drink and whatever they might ask for. On the table
were many roast fowls, their plumage having been restored to them to
give them the look of living birds, capons cooked whole in vessels of
glass, good store of hares, rabbits, and birds in pies with feathers as
if alive, and the tables admirably laid with linen. The ladies’ table,
which was laid for four courses, could be removed in portions, and
below the first service was a second one of sweetmeats ready prepared.

They use no masks for visiting one another, but they wear them, of
a very cheap sort, when they walk about the town in public or go to
meetings for running at the ring. On Carnival Monday two rich and
well-appointed companies of gentlemen met for the sport aforesaid with
a wealth of superb horses such as we cannot equal.

       *       *       *       *       *

Having given leave of absence to the one of my followers who has up
to this time written this journal in admirable fashion, I feel that,
albeit it may irk me somewhat, I must needs continue the work with my
own hand, seeing that it is so far advanced.

On February 16th, as I was returning from service, I saw in a small
chapel a priest, fully robed, engaged in healing a man possessed, who
was melancholic and apparently in a trance. They kept him kneeling
before the altar, his neck being bound with some sort of cloth by which
they held him fast. The priest recited in his presence many prayers and
exorcisms out of his breviary, charging the devil to quit the body of
this man;[92] then he addressed his discourse to the patient, speaking
sometimes to the man himself and sometimes to the devil in his body,
railing at him, dealing the poor wretch heavy blows with his fist,
and spitting in his face. To these commands the patient made divers
meaningless replies: now for himself, telling how he was affected by
the operation of his malady; now for the devil, acknowledging his
fear of God and the powerful working of these exorcisms against him.
After this performance, which lasted some time, the priest, by way
of preparation for the final attack, withdrew to the altar and took
in his left hand the pyx which held the _Corpus Domini_, and in his
right a lighted candle, which he held upside down so that it might
melt and consume away, saying certain prayers the while, and ending
with threatenings and denunciations against the devil, uttered in the
loudest and most authoritative voice he could put forth. As soon as
the first candle had burnt itself out close to his fingers, he took
a second and then a third. He next put back the transparent vessel
containing the _Corpus Domini_, and returned to the patient, speaking
to him as to an ordinary man and releasing him from his bonds. He then
delivered the patient over to his friends, and directed them to take
him home.

The priest assured us that this devil was of the most noxious sort and
very obstinate, and that his expulsion would prove a difficult task;
moreover, he recounted to ten or twelve gentlemen who were present
divers histories concerning this science of exorcism and his common
experience thereof, notably how the day before he had cast out of a
certain woman a great devil, who in leaving her had caused her to vomit
from her mouth nails and pins and a bit of his hairy skin. And when
her friends told him that she was not yet quite herself, he replied
that this was because of another sort of spirit, easier to deal with
and less malicious, who had taken possession of her this same morning.
This kind (for he knew the names and the divisions and the minutest
differences) was very easy to exorcise. But I saw no further proof of
his skill. The man who had been under treatment gave no other facial
sign than grinding his teeth and twisting his mouth when the _Corpus
Domini_ was put before him; he muttered, indeed, several times the
words _Si fata volent_, for he was a notary and knew a word or two of
Latin.

On the first day of March I went to the service at the Sistine Chapel.
At the high altar the priest who said mass stood beyond the altar with
his face turned towards the people, no one being behind him. On this
occasion the Pope was present, for he had some days before excluded
therefrom the nuns who had hitherto been wont to be present, so as
to make more room. In their place he installed, by a most excellent
regulation, the poor folk who beg about the city. Each one of the
cardinals gave twenty crowns in aid of the movement, and very liberal
alms were given by other private persons. To their hospital the Pope
has given five hundred crowns a month.

In Rome there is a vast amount of private devotion, and many
confraternities in which are manifest striking testimonies of piety,
but it seems to me that in general there is less devotion than in the
better ordered towns of France. They set more store here on ceremonies,
in which they go to great lengths. Here I may write what I will with
a free conscience, so I will give two illustrations of my meaning. A
certain man was with a courtesan, lying in bed and enjoying the full
liberty of the situation, when, at the twenty-fourth hour, the _Ave
Maria_ sounded, and the girl sprang out of bed and knelt down on the
floor to say her prayer. Shortly afterwards he was with another, when
suddenly the good mother (for these girls are always in the hands of
some old bawd whom they call mother or aunt) knocked at the door and,
having entered in a transport of rage, tore off from the girl’s neck a
ribbon from which was hanging a little image of Our Lady, so that it
might not be contaminated by the sinful act of the wearer. The young
girl showed herself exceedingly penitent, in that she had omitted her
customary practice of first removing this image from her person.

The ambassador of the Muscovite[93] was present at this service,
clad in a scarlet mantle, a long coat of cloth of gold, and a hat of
cloth of gold made in the shape of a nightcap and trimmed with fur,
under which was a smaller cap of cloth of silver. This is the second
ambassador of Muscovy who has been sent to the papal court, the other
having come here in the time of Paul III. Report said that this man’s
mission was to stir up the Pope to interfere in the war which the
King of Poland was waging against his master. His plea was that the
Muscovite ruler must needs sustain the first onslaught of the Turk, and
that, should he be weakened by fighting Poland, he would be unable to
undertake war elsewhere, thus leaving open a wide breach through which
the Turk might enter and attack us all. The Muscovite also offered to
make certain concessions in the religious controversies at present
pending between himself and the Roman Church. The ambassador had
lodging with the Castellan, as had the other in Pope Paul’s time, and
was maintained at the Pope’s charges. He resisted stiffly to conform to
the usage of kissing the Pope’s foot, consenting only to kiss his right
hand, and remained obstinate until it was pointed out to him that even
the Emperor was not exempt from this ceremonial duty, the instances of
kings being insufficient to convince him. He could speak no language
other than his own, and had come unaccompanied by an interpreter, and
with only three or four men in his train. It is said he was in great
peril as he journeyed in disguise through Poland. In his country there
is such great ignorance of external affairs, that he took to Venice
letters from his master addressed to the High Governor of the Signiory
of Venice; and, being asked what might be the meaning of this style,
replied that in Muscovy they believed that Venice was under the command
of the Pope, who sent thither governors, as he did to Bologna and other
cities. God knows in what mood the Magnificoes must have listened
to such ignorant discourse. Both to them and to the Pope he brought
presents of sables, and of furs still more rich and rare, to wit, skins
of the black fox.

On the 6th of March I went to see the library of the Vatican, which
is contained in five or six rooms all communicating one with the
other. There are many rows of desks, each desk having a great number
of books chained thereto. Also, in the chests, which were all opened
for my inspection, I saw many manuscripts, of which I chiefly remarked
a Seneca and the _Opuscula_ of Plutarch. Amongst the noteworthy
sights I saw was the statue of the good Aristides,[94] with a fine
head, bald and thickly bearded, a grand forehead, and an expression
full of sweetness and majesty. The base is very ancient, and has his
name written thereupon. I saw likewise a Chinese book writ in strange
characters, on leaves made of a certain stuff much more tender and
transparent than the paper we use, and because this fabric is not thick
enough to bear the stain of ink, they write on only one side of the
sheet, and the sheets are all doubled and folded at the outside edges
by which they are held together. It is said that these sheets are the
bark of a certain tree, as is a fragment of ancient papyrus which I
saw covered with unknown characters. I saw also the Breviary of Saint
Gregory in manuscript, which has no date, but the account they give of
it states that it has come down from one hand to another from Saint
Gregory’s time. It is a missal not unlike our own, and it was taken to
the recent Council at Trent as an authority for the ceremonies of our
Church. Next, a book by Saint Thomas Aquinas, containing corrections
made by the author himself, who wrote badly, using a small character
worse even than my own. Next, a Bible printed on parchment, one of
those which Plantin[95] has recently printed in four languages, which
book King Philip presented to the Pope, according to an inscription on
the cover. Next, the original manuscript of the book which King Henry
of England wrote against Luther and sent fifty years ago to Pope Leo
X.[96] It contains a subscription and a graceful Latin distich, both
written by his own hand:--

    “Anglorum Rex Henricus, Leo decime, mittit
      Hoc opus, & fidei testem & amicitæ.”

I read both the prefaces, one to the Pope and the other to the reader.
The king claims indulgence for any literary shortcomings on the score
of his military occupations, but the style is good scholastic Latin. I
inspected the library without any difficulty; indeed, any one may visit
it and make what extracts he likes; it is open almost every morning. I
was taken to every part thereof by a gentleman, who invited me to make
use of it as often as I might desire.

Our ambassador quitted Rome just at this time without having ever seen
the library, and he complained because pressure had been put upon him
to beg this favour of Cardinal Charlet,[97] and that he had never been
allowed to inspect the manuscript Seneca, which he desired greatly to
see. It was my good luck which carried me on to success, for, having
heard of the ambassador’s failure, I was in despair. Thus it seems all
things come easily to men of a certain temper, and are unattainable
by others. Right occasion and opportunity have their privileges, and
often hold out to ordinary folk what they deny to kings. Curiosity
often stands in its own way, and the like may be affirmed of greatness
and power. In the library I saw also a manuscript Virgil[98] in an
exceedingly large handwriting, of that long and narrow character which
we see in Rome in inscriptions of the age of the Emperors somewhere
about the reign of Constantine, a character which takes somewhat of
Gothic form, and misses that square proportion which the old Latin
inscriptions possess. The sight of this Virgil confirmed a belief
which I have always held, to wit, that the four lines usually put at
the opening of the Æneid are borrowed, since this copy has them not.
Also a copy of the Acts of the Apostles, written in very fair Greek
golden character. The lettering is massive, solid in substance, and
raised upon the paper, so that any one who may pass his finger over the
same will detect the thickness thereof. We have, I believe, lost all
knowledge of this method.

On March 13th an old Antiochan patriarch, an Arabian, and well versed
in five or six of the languages of those regions, and quite ignorant
of Greek or of the other tongues we use, a personage with whom I had
become very intimate, gave me a certain compound for the relief of
my gravel, and written directions for the employment of the same. He
bestowed it for me in a little earthen pot, where I might keep it
ten or even twenty years, and assured me that I might anticipate a
complete cure of my distemper by the first dose I should take. In case
I might lose the writing he gave me, I will set down his instructions
here. The drug should be taken at bedtime after a light supper; a piece
the size of two peas should be mixed in lukewarm water, after having
been crumbled in the fingers. This will make five doses, one to be
taken every alternate day.

One day I dined with our ambassador at Rome, where Muret[99] and other
learned men were of the company. I spoke concerning the translation of
Plutarch into French, and controverted those who esteem it less than
I do. I maintained at least that, in passages where the translator
may have missed the exact meaning of Plutarch, he has given instead
one verisimilar and in accurate combination with what is writ before
and after. To show me that I was hereby claiming too much for this
work, they brought forward two passages; one (the criticism of which
they assigned to a son of M. Mangot,[100] a Parisian advocate, who had
just quitted Rome) was from the life of Solon--somewhere about the
middle--in which the translator says that Solon claimed for himself
that he had given freedom to Attica, and had removed the boundary
stones which divided inherited plots of land. Here he had made a
mistake, for the Greek word in question[101] is rather used to denote
certain signposts which were wont to be set up on lands which were
pledged or under bond, so that buyers might be forewarned that these
were mortgaged. The word which the translator employed has none of the
meaning of the original, inasmuch as it would lead the reader to infer
that the lands alluded to were not separate freeholds, but were held
in common. The Latin of Estienne comes nearer to the truth.[102] The
second passage was one near the end of the treatise on the “Nurture
of Children.” This the translator gives as follows: “The observation
of these rules is rather to be desired than advised.” But his critics
now affirmed the real meaning of the Greek to be: “That thing is more
to be desired than to be hoped for.” The same proverb may be found
elsewhere under different form. In place of this clear and intelligible
meaning the translator has substituted one which is weak and foreign.
Wherefore, accepting their presupposition of the true sense of the
passage in question, I professed myself entirely of their opinion.[103]

In Rome the churches are inferior to those of the generality of the
large towns of Italy; indeed, speaking generally of Italy and Germany,
the churches will rarely be found to equal those of France. At Saint
Peter’s, at the door of the new church, are to be seen certain flags
draped as trophies, bearing inscriptions which tell that they are
ensigns captured by the king from the Huguenots, but these inscriptions
do not say where or when. Near to the Gregorian Chapel, where may be
seen attached to the wall a vast number of _ex votos_, there is a small
square picture, wretched and badly painted, which represents the battle
of Moncontour. In the hall, in front of the Sistine Chapel,[104] or
upon the partition wall, are several paintings of memorable events
touching the Holy See--for instance, the sea fight of Don John of
Austria; also a representation of that Pope who trod under foot the
head of the Emperor when he came to entreat pardon and to kiss the
Pope’s feet; but on the same is no trace of the words which according
to history were spoken by each one of them. There are two other
pictures which accurately represent the wounding and the death of the
Admiral of Chatillon.

[Illustration: ISLAND ON THE TIBER

_From Piranesi’s Views of Rome_

                                              _To face p. 126_, vol. ii.
]

On March 15th M. de Monluc[105] came to me at daybreak, and we set
about the execution of the plan which we had made the day previous to
go to see Ostia. We crossed the Tiber by the bridge of Our Lady, and
left the city by the _Porta del Porto_, anciently called _Portuensis_,
and thence we followed a rough road through a region only moderately
productive of wine and corn. Having gone about eight miles and once
more struck the bank of the Tiber, the road descended into a vast plain
of meadow and pasturage, at the end of which stood formerly a large
town. Of this some fine and stately ruins may yet be seen on the shore
of the Lake of Trajan, which is itself an overflow of the Tyrrhenian
sea, and was in ancient times navigable for ships, but now very little
seawater finds its way thereinto, and still less into another lake a
little above it, which they call the Arch of Claudius.[106]

We might have taken our dinner with the cardinal of Perugia, who was
residing there.[107] In sooth there is nothing anywhere to equal the
courtesy of the gentlefolk of these parts, and of their dependents. The
cardinal aforesaid sent word to me by one of my servants who had passed
by his house that he has some cause of complaint against me, in that I
had not called upon him, this servant having been taken for refreshment
into the cardinal’s pantry; the cardinal had no acquaintance with
me, and in this case was only showing the hospitality he was wont to
give to strangers of any mark. On my part I heard that the day would
hardly be long enough to allow us to complete the round I wished to
make, seeing that I had gone many miles out of my way in order to get
a sight of both banks of the Tiber. Here we crossed in a boat over a
small branch of the Tiber to the Sacred Isle, a good Gascon league in
length, where we found plenty of grazing land and divers ruins and
columns of marble, which are abundant in all the parts about Porto,
where stood the ancient city built by Trajan. Every day something of
the kind is dug up by the Pope’s workmen and sent to Rome. When we had
crossed this island we found we had still the Tiber to pass, and, as
we had no means of transporting our horses, we were just thinking of
retracing our steps, when, by good luck, we espied on the opposite bank
M. de Bellai, M. le Baron de Chasai, M. de Marivau, and certain others.
Whereupon I crossed the stream and made an arrangement with these
gentlemen that we should exchange horses. Thus they returned to Rome by
the road by which we had come out, and we took theirs, which led direct
to Ostia.

Ostia,[108] fifteen miles from Rome, is situated by the ancient channel
of the Tiber, for this stream has changed its course somewhat, and
is receding still more every day. We breakfasted in haste at a mean
tavern, beyond which we could see La Rocca, a small castle strong
enough in itself, but now bare of a garrison. The Popes, and notably
the present one, have built along this coast high towers or look-outs,
about a mile apart, to guard against the raids often made by the
Turks, especially in the vintage season, and the capture of men and
cattle. By the discharge of a cannon from these towers they advise one
another so rapidly that the alarm is sped to Rome forthwith. Round
Ostia are the salt works, situated in a wide marshy plain into which
the sea flows, and these supply all the States of the Church.[109]
This road from Ostia to Rome, the _Via Ostensis_, abounds in vestiges
of its ancient splendour, such as causeways and ruins of aqueducts;
moreover, all along it is set with mighty ruins, and for two-thirds of
its length it is still paved with those large black squares of stone
which they used formerly as pavement. In looking at this bank of the
Tiber it is easy to believe that of old the road all the way from
Rome to Ostia ran past the habitations of men. Amongst other ruins we
saw, about midway and on our left, a very beautiful tomb of a Roman
prætor with an inscription quite perfect thereon. In Rome, the ruins,
as a rule, only manifest themselves to us by the massive solidity of
their construction. The ancients built thick walls of brick, and these
they lined either with strips of marble or some other white stone, or
with a kind of cement, or with thick tiles set thereupon. This outside
crust, on which the inscriptions were written, has almost everywhere
been ruined by the lapse of years, wherefore we have now but little
knowledge as to all these matters. Inscriptions still remain where the
walls were originally built in solid fashion.

The approaches to Rome in almost every case have a barren and
uncultivated look, whether through the unfitness of the soil for
cultivation, or whether, as seems more likely, through the absence
of husbandmen and handicraftsmen in the city. On my journey hither
I met divers troops of villagers from the Grisons and Savoy on their
way to seek work in the Roman vineyards and gardens, and they told me
they gained this wage every year. The city is all for the court and
the nobility, every one adapting himself to the ease and idleness of
ecclesiastic surroundings. There are no main streets of trade; what
there are would seem small in a small town, palaces and gardens take
up all the space. Nothing is to be seen like the Rue de la Harpe or de
Saint Denis; I always fancied I must be walking in the Rue de Seine
or on the Quai des Augustins at Paris. The aspect of the city differs
little whether the day be a feast or a working day. Services go on all
through Lent, and the crowds are just as great on a working day as any
other, the streets being full of coaches, prelates, and ladies at this
season.

On the 16th of March, after our return to Rome, I was taken to make
trial of the Roman hot baths at St. Mark’s, which have the best
repute. I underwent a treatment of moderate strength, and, though I
went alone, met with all possible respect. The usual custom is to take
a lady as companion, who like yourself will be rubbed by the men in
attendance. I learned here the composition of the unguent used for
removing hair from the skin. It is made of two parts of quick lime and
one of arsenic, blended with lye, and will have effect in less than a
quarter of an hour after application. On the 17th I was troubled, not
insupportably, with colic for five or six hours, and afterwards passed
a large stone the shape of a pine kernel.

At this season we had roses and artichokes as well, but the heat,
according to my judgment, was not excessive. I wore the same clothes
as I wear at home. We got less fish than in France; their pike is a
useless beast, and is reckoned poor man’s diet. Soles and trout are
rarely seen, but the sea barbel are very good and much larger than at
Bordeaux, albeit dear. John Dorys and mullets, larger and less firm
than ours, are very costly. The oil is so good that I never feel that
irritation of the throat which always troubles me in France when I
have partaken generously of it. Here you may eat grapes all the year
round, and even up to this date fine bunches may be seen hanging on the
trellises. The mutton is worthless and is in no esteem.

On the 18th the Portuguese ambassador did homage to the Pope for the
kingdom of Portugal, on behalf of King Philip. This same ambassador
represented on other occasions the late King of Portugal, and likewise
those states of King Philip with which he was at variance.[110] On
my way back from Saint Peter’s I met a certain man who gave me an
interesting account of two occurrences. The first was that the
Portuguese had done their homage in Passion week, the service being
held in the church of Saint John at the Porta Latina; and the second,
that in this very same church, several years ago, certain Portuguese
had established a very strange confraternity. These were men who
joined themselves in matrimony, using the mass and the same religious
ceremonies as we use at our weddings, taking the sacrament together,
and reading our marriage service. Then they went and lived together
after the fashion of married folk. These fanatics declared that the
marriage ceremony alone rendered lawful the union of man and woman, and
that their own form of union would become equally lawful should it be
sanctioned by the ceremonies and mysteries of the Church. Nine or ten
Portuguese belonging to this execrable sect were burnt.[111]

I witnessed the homage done by Spain for the kingdom of Portugal. A
salvo of artillery was fired from Saint Angelo and from the palace,
and the ambassador was escorted by trumpets and drums and the Pope’s
archers. I did not go inside to be present at the speech-making and
the other ceremonies. The Muscovite ambassador, who sat at a decorated
window to behold the procession, remarked that he had been brought
there to witness a great gathering; but in his country, when men spoke
of troops of horses, they had in mind twenty-five or thirty thousand,
wherefore he made light of the show before him. This I heard from a
gentleman who was sent to converse with him through an interpreter. On
Palm Sunday, in a church where I went for vespers, I saw a child seated
in a chair beside the altar clad in a long gown of new blue taffetas,
bareheaded, crowned with olive branches, and holding in his hand a
lighted candle of white wax. This boy was about fifteen years old, and
had just been discharged by the Pope’s order from prison, having been
sent there for killing another boy. At Saint John Lateran they showed
me some transparent marble.

On the next day the Pope visited the seven churches.[112] He wore boots
of flesh-colour, with a cross of lighter-coloured leather upon each
boot. He always takes with him a Spanish horse, a hackney, a mule, and
a litter, all equipped in the same fashion, but to-day the horse was
lacking. His esquire, with two or three pairs of gilded spurs in his
hand, awaited him at the foot of Saint Peter’s Stairs; but he put the
spurs aside and asked for his litter, in which were hanging two red
hats of the same sort.

This evening they brought back to me the volume of my Essays,
castigated and brought into harmony with the opinions of the monkish
doctors. The _Maestro del Sacro Palazzo_ could only pronounce judgment
on them from the report of a certain French monk, for he himself was
ignorant of our language; but he was so fully satisfied with the
explanations I gave him of all those passages to which exception had
been taken by the Frenchman, that he left to me the task of correcting,
according to my conscience, everything which might appear wanting in
good taste. In return I begged him to follow the advice of the censor
of my book, and I avowed that in certain matters--for instance, in
my use of the word Fortune[113] in discoursing on heretical poets;
in my apology for Julian;[114] in my remark that when a man prays he
ought for the time to be free of all vicious inclinations; in certain
statements that it is cruelty to inflict upon men greater pain than is
necessary to kill them; that children should be brought up to examine
all sides of a question;[115] and in many others--I did not admit I
was in error. Moreover, in certain additional instances, I denied
that my critic had caught my meaning. The aforesaid Maestro, who was
a man of parts, completely exonerated me, and was anxious to let me
see that he set small value on these emendations; moreover, he argued
very ingeniously on my behalf against another man, an Italian, who was
opposed to me. They kept back my copy of “The History of the Swiss,”
translated into French,[116] simply because they had found out that the
translator was a heretic, though his name did not appear anywhere in
the volume. It is wonderful what a wide knowledge they have of men and
foreign lands, and the most singular part of it was they told me the
preface of the aforesaid book was condemned.

This same day at the church of Saint John Lateran, in place of the
ordinary penitancers who may be seen doing their office in most of the
churches, Monsignore the Cardinal of Saint Sixtus[117] sat in a corner,
and with a long rod, which he held in his hand, touched the heads of
all the men who went by, and of the women also, but these he regarded
with a smile and a courtesy of manner apportioned to their consequence
and beauty.

On the Wednesday in Holy week I visited the Seven Churches with M.
de Foix[118] before dinner and spent about five hours in making the
round. I know not why some people should profess to be shocked when
they hear this or that prelate accused of vicious practices, when
these practices are well known. This very day, in the churches of
Saint John Lateran and of Santa Croce in Gerusalemme, I saw written
in a most prominent place the history of Pope Sylvester II.[119] in
which the worst is recorded of him. The circuit of the city from the
Porta del Popolo to the Porta de S. Paolo, which I made several times,
can be accomplished in three or four hours going at foot pace. That
part which lies beyond the river may easily be traversed in an hour
and a half. Amongst other pleasures which I enjoyed in Rome during
Lent, mention must be made of the sermons. There were many excellent
preachers, for instance the renegade rabbi who preached to the Jews on
Saturday afternoons in the church of the Trinità. Here was always a
congregation of sixty Jews who were bound to be present. This preacher
had been a famous doctor amongst them, and now he attacked their
belief by their own arguments, even out of the mouths of their rabbis
and from the words of the Bible. He had admirable skill and knowledge
of the subject, and of the languages necessary for the elaboration
of the same. There was another who preached before the Pope and
cardinals, named Padre Toledo, a man of extraordinary ability in depth
of learning, in appositeness of expression, and in mustering of his
arguments, and a third who preached at the church of the Jesuits was
distinguished for the beauty of the language he used, the two last
being members of the Jesuit society.

It is wonderful how great is the part occupied by this College in the
Christian economy, and my belief is that never before has there existed
any confraternity which has risen to such eminence, or which may sway
so powerfully the destinies of the world, supposing that it should be
able to prosecute its designs in the future. It occupies well-nigh the
whole of Christendom; it is a nursery of men distinguished in every
department of high affairs, and the institution of our Church which the
heretics of our day have most to fear.

One of the preachers declared that people nowadays use their coaches
as places whence they spy upon their fellows. The habit which the
Romans most affect is that of walking about the streets, but as a rule
they only rouse themselves to issue forth for the sake of sauntering
along from one street to another, without design of going anywhere in
particular, one or two of the streets being especially affected for
this purpose. In sooth, the chief pleasure to be got from this practice
is the sight of the ladies, and especially the courtesans, who exhibit
themselves behind their lattices with such refinement of trickery that
I have often wondered at the address they display in attracting men’s
eyes. Often I have got down from my horse and induced some of these
ladies to admit me, and have wondered how it was they contrived to make
themselves appear so much handsomer than they really were.[120] They
have the art of letting a beholder distinguish them by whatever trait
of theirs is most seemly; they will let you see only the upper part of
the face, or the lower, or the side, veiling and unveiling according to
the particular style of countenance, so that an ugly woman is never to
be seen at a window. Each one takes her position there for the purpose
of saluting and bowing to her acquaintances, who, as they go by, throw
up many a glance. An extra privilege, granted to any gallant who may
have paid one crown or four for passing the night in a house of this
character, is that he is allowed to salute his inamorata in public
the next day. Many ladies of quality also show themselves, but it is
very easy to perceive that these are of totally different carriage and
fashion. This phase of life is best seen from horseback, a usage which
is followed by poor wretches like myself, or by young men riding great
horses, which they manage with much skill. People of quality never go
abroad except in coaches of the most costly sort, and, in order to have
a clear view upwards, the roofs of the coaches are fitted with small
windows. It was to these windows that the preacher aforesaid alluded
when he spoke of the spying which went on in coaches.

On the morning of Holy Thursday the Pope, in pontifical garb,
accompanied by the cardinals, repaired to the second platform of the
great portico of Saint Peter’s bearing a lighted torch in his hand.
Then a canon of Saint Peter’s, who stood on one side of the balcony,
read in a loud voice a bull written in Latin by which men of an
infinite variety of sorts and conditions were excommunicated; amongst
others the Huguenots were specially named, and all those princes who
keep hold on any of the lands of the Church, an article which caused
loud laughter from the Cardinals Medici and Carafa, who stood close to
the Pope. The reading of this bull lasted a good hour; for when the
canon had finished reading an article in Latin, the Cardinal Gonzaga,
who stood on the opposite side--uncovered like the canon--would repeat
the same in Italian. When the reading was done the Pope cast the
lighted torch down amongst the people; and, whether out of jest or not,
Cardinal Gonzaga threw down another, three torches having been kindled.
This having fallen amongst the people caused a vast disturbance below,
every one scrambling to pick up a fragment of the torch, and giving
and taking shrewd blows with fist or cudgel. During the reading of this
sentence the balustrade of the portico in front of the Pope was covered
with a large piece of black taffetas; but, the excommunication having
been pronounced, they folded up this black covering and disclosed one
of a different colour, whereupon the Pope gave his public blessing.

On these days they exhibit the handkerchief of Saint Veronica. This is
a countenance wrought in needlework, of a dark and sombre tint, and
framed after the fashion of a mirror. It is shown with great ceremony
from a high pulpit, five or six paces in width, and the priest who
holds it wears on his hands red gloves, while two or three other
priests assist him in displaying it. No spectacle provokes such great
show of reverence as this, the people all prostrate themselves on the
ground, the greater part of them weeping and uttering cries of pity.
A woman, whom they declared to be possessed, made a great uproar at
the sight of this effigy, and began to screech, and twist her arms,
and throw them about. The priests moved round the pulpit and exhibited
the effigy, now from one side and now from another, and at every
fresh display the people who beheld it cried out aloud. On these same
occasions they show to the people likewise with equal ceremonies a
lance head enclosed in a crystal vessel. This display is made several
times during the day, and the crowd which comes to witness the same is
so vast that, as far as the eye can reach from the pulpit aforesaid
outside the church, there is nought to be seen but an endless crowd of
men and women. Here is the true papal court; the pomp of Rome and its
chief grandeur lies in the outward show of religion: and it is a fine
sight in these days, this unbounded ardour of the people for their
faith.

In the city a hundred or more confraternities are to be found, and
almost every gentleman is a member of some one of these: some of them
are open to strangers, and our kings of France belong to that of the
Gonfalon. Each particular society is wont to exercise, and especially
during Lent, certain functions of religious fellowship, and on this
special day they walk about in companies clad in linen gowns, each
company wearing its particular colour, white, red, blue, green, or
black, almost all with their faces covered. The most striking sight
I ever saw here or elsewhere was the incredible number of people
spread abroad through the city this day, busy with their devotions,
and especially those belonging to the aforesaid confraternities. For,
in addition to the great crowds seen during the day round about Saint
Peter’s, the whole city, as night approached, seemed to be on fire
on account of the procession of these confraternities towards Saint
Peter’s, each one bearing a lighted candle--almost always of white
wax--in his hand. I am sure that at least twelve thousand torches
must have gone by the place where I stood; for, from eight o’clock
till midnight, the street was filled with the procession, marshalled
and regulated in such excellent order that, though there were many
different companies coming from different places, the ranks were never
broken or the progress stayed. Each confraternity had a fine choir of
musicians, who sang as they marched. In the midst of the ranks went
a file of penitancers to the number of five hundred, who scourged
themselves with cords, and left their backs all raw and bloody. This is
a riddle which still baffles me, but there is no denying that they were
bruised and wounded in cruel fashion, and that this self-torture and
flagellation went on without ceasing. Judging by the aspect of their
faces, the assurance of their gait, and the steadfastness audible in
their discourse and visible in their countenances (for I heard several
of them speak, and many uncovered themselves in passing through the
street), it would never have suggested itself to me that they were
engaged in a painful and irksome task. Amongst them were youths of
twelve or thirteen years of age, and right in front of me was one, very
young and fair in seeming, over whose wounds a young woman lamented
sore; but the boy, turning towards us, said with a laugh, “Enough of
that; what I do I do for your sins and not for my own.”[121] Not only
was there absent all appearance of distress or violence, they even went
about their flagellation with an appearance of pleasure, or at least
of nonchalance, so marked that they might have been chattering about
other matters, laughing, bawling about the street, running and leaping
when there was so great a crowd that the procession fell somewhat
into confusion. Along with them went certain men carrying wine, which
was offered to them now and again, and some of them took a mouthful
thereof, and sometimes sweetmeats were given. The winecarriers often
took wine in their mouths and then blew it out and moistened therewith
the lashes of the scourges, which were of cord, and were wont to become
coagulated with the blood drawn to such an extent that it was necessary
to moisten them in order to separate the thongs. They also blew the
wine over the wounds of some of the victims. The appearance of their
shoes and breeches suggested that they were people of mean condition,
and that the majority of them had sold themselves to this service.
Moreover, I was told that they were wont to grease their shoulders with
a certain preparation, but the wounds I saw were so natural, and the
scourging was so lengthy, that assuredly no medicament could benumb
them to pain. And with regard to those who may have hired them, what
profit would they get were this exhibition nought but trickery? Certain
other peculiarities of this function may be noticed. When the people
in procession arrive at Saint Peter’s the only function they attend is
the exhibition of _il Viso Santo_, and as soon as one company has seen
it, it passes on and makes room for another. On this day great liberty
is granted to all womankind; for, through the night, the streets are
filled with ladies nearly all going on foot. Nevertheless the city has
the air of having greatly mended its manners, especially in respect to
the relaxation aforesaid, all amorous glances and manifestations being
suppressed.

[Illustration: THE PANTHEON

_Reproduced from Piranesi’s Views of Rome_

                                              _To face p. 156_, vol. ii.
]

The church of Santa Rotonda makes the fairest show at this season on
account of its illumination. Amongst other devices a vast number of
lamps, hung from the top to the bottom of the church, are kept in
constant motion. On Easter eve I saw at Saint John Lateran the heads
of Saint Paul and Saint Peter, which have still some flesh upon them,
and are coloured and bearded as in life.[122] The face of Saint Peter
is fair, somewhat elongated, with a ruddy, almost sanguine tint on
the cheeks, and a forked grey beard, the head being covered with a
papal mitre. That of Saint Paul is dark, broad, and fatter; the head
altogether being larger and the beard thick and grey. They are kept
high up in a place devised for them, and the exhibition is made in this
wise. The people are summoned by the ringing of bells, then a curtain,
stretched before the heads, is let down, and they may be seen side by
side. They are left visible long enough to let the spectators say an
_Ave Maria_, and then the curtain is drawn up again. Afterwards they
are displayed afresh in the same way, and then for a third time. This
exhibition takes place three or four times during the day. The place
where they are kept is about the height of a pike from the ground, and
a heavy iron grating is in front of them, through which the spectator
must peer in order to see them, several candles being lighted outside
the grating, but it is difficult to discern clearly the particular
features. I saw them three or four times, and found the skin shiny and
something like the masks we use.

On the Wednesday after Easter M. Maldonat,[123] who was then at Rome,
inquired of me what might be my opinion of the ways and habits of
the city, especially with respect to religion. It happened that our
views agreed exactly, to wit, that the common people were beyond
comparison more devout in France than in Rome, while the contrary might
be affirmed of the richer classes, and especially of those about the
court. He told me that whenever he heard men maintain that France was
altogether given over to heresy--and especially when the disputants
were Spaniards, of whom there were great number in his society--he
always answered that more truly religious men might be found in Paris
alone than in the whole of Spain.

In bringing boats up the Tiber they tow them with three or four pairs
of buffaloes. I know not how others find the air of Rome, but I myself
found it very pleasant and healthy. The Sieur de Vielart told me
that since he had been there he had lost all tendency to headache, an
observation which goes to confirm that held by the Romans themselves:
that the air is bad for the feet, but good for the head. Nothing is
so adverse to my own health as listlessness and sloth, and in Rome
I was never without occupation, which, though it may not have been
always so pleasant as I could have wished, yet served to keep me from
tedium. For instance, I visited and inspected the antiquities and the
vineyards, which here are gardens and pleasure places of extraordinary
beauty. There I learned how susceptible to the touch of art were these
rough, rocky, and unlevel spots of ground, for the artificers here have
contrived to win from them a graceful effect, impossible to imitate in
our level country, and to turn these irregularities to advantage with
the utmost skill. Amongst the most beautiful of these gardens are those
of the Cardinals d’Este at Monte Cavallo, and Farnese at the Palatine;
of Cardinals Orsini, Sforza, and Medici; of Papa Giulio and of Madama;
those of the Farnese and of Cardinal Riario in Trastevere, and of
Cesio outside the Porta del Popolo.[124] All these beautiful spots are
free and open to any one who may desire to enter therein, or even to
pass the night there with some chosen companion whenever the owners
chance to be away, and they are scarcely ever in residence. Then there
are always sermons to be listened to at all seasons, or disputes in
theology; or again diversion may be found with some courtesan or other,
but in this case I found one disadvantage, to wit, that these ladies
charge as extortionately for the privilege of simple conversation
(which was what I sought, desiring to hear them talk, and to take part
in their play of wit) as for the supreme favour, and are just as
niggard thereof. All these recreations kept me free effectually from
melancholy, which is the death of me, and of irritability, with which
I was troubled neither without doors nor within. Thus I found Rome a
very pleasant place of sojourn, and I might go on to show that, if I
had penetrated more deeply into the inner life of the place, I might
have been still more pleased; for I must admit that, though I used
all possible care and ingenuity, I only gathered acquaintance with
the public aspect of the city, the same that she shows to the meanest
stranger.

On Low Sunday I witnessed the ceremony of the bestowal of alms on
certain young maidens. On this day the Pope had, in addition to his
ordinary equipage, twenty-five horses led before him, decked and
covered with cloth of gold, and most richly caparisoned, and ten or
twelve mules covered with crimson velvet, all these being led by his
lackeys on foot. Then came the Pope’s litter, also covered with crimson
velvet. The Pope himself rode on his mule, and before him went four
men on horseback who carried each one a cardinal’s hat, set on the top
of a staff which was covered with red velvet and gilt about the handle
and the top. The cardinals who followed rode also on mules and wore
their pontifical garb, the skirts of their robes being fastened by
pins to the mules’ bridles. The maidens numbered a hundred and seven,
each one being accompanied by an elderly kinswoman, and when the mass
was finished they left the church and marched in a long procession.
Having re-entered the church of La Minerva--where this function takes
place--they passed one by one through the choir and kissed the feet
of the Pope; who, after blessing them, gave them each from his own
hand a purse of white damask containing a note on his bankers. It was
understood that all these girls have found husbands, wherefore they
come to ask for a dowry, which is fixed at a sum of thirty-five crowns
apiece, in addition to the white robe costing five crowns, which they
wear at their wedding. Their faces were covered with linen veils, with
no opening save holes to look through.[125]

I was speaking lately of the advantages of Rome, and will now add, in
reference to this matter, that I find it, of all towns in the world,
the one most filled with the corporate idea, in which difference of
nationality counts least; for, by its very nature, it is a patchwork
of strangers, each one being as much at home as in his own country.
The authority of its ruler lies over the whole of Christianity.[126]
By his own will he, as the supreme arbiter of right and wrong, can
compel the obedience of strangers in their own lands, just the same
as if they were denizens of Rome. Considerations of birth have no
weight in the promotion of men to high office in his court. The freedom
given under the government of Venice, and the conveniences of traffic,
attract thither vast numbers of foreigners, but they are nevertheless
like men in a stranger city; while here foreigners will be found in
special offices carrying emolument and responsibility, for Rome is
the home of all those connected with the Church. As many or perhaps
more strangers may be seen in Venice (where the multitude of these far
exceeds anything of the sort in France or Germany), but not nearly so
many resident or domiciled foreigners. The common people are no longer
affronted by the sight of a man dressed in French, or Spanish, or
German fashion, and nearly every beggar who begged alms of me spoke my
own tongue.

However, I sought in every way and used all my five natural senses
to win for myself the title of Roman citizen, if only for the ancient
renown and religious association clinging to the position attached
to this citizenship. I found the task a difficult one, nevertheless
I accomplished it without having availed myself of any man’s favour,
or indeed letting the matter come to the knowledge of any Frenchman.
I enlisted the Pope’s interest, which was brought to bear by Filippo
Murotti, the major-domo, who had always been extraordinarily kind to
me, and had taken special trouble in this particular affair.[127]
Certain letters, bearing the date _3^o Id. Martii 1581_, and relating
to the business, were sent off and reached me on April 5th. They were
in full official style, in the same form and friendly expression as
those sent to the Seigneur Giacomo Buoncompagno, Duke of Sora, the
Pope’s son. This title is now altogether a vain one, nevertheless I
felt much pleasure from the possession of the same.

On April 3rd I left Rome early in the morning by the Porta San Lorenzo,
_Tiburtina_. The road I took was fairly level, and ran through a
country which was for the most part fertile cornland and sparsely
populated, like all the approaches to Rome. I crossed the Teverone,
anciently the Anio, first at the bridge of Mammolo, and second by that
of Lucan, the old name of this bridge being still retained. On this
bridge are divers ancient inscriptions, and the chief of these is still
easily legible; moreover, two or three Roman tombs are yet standing
along this road. Few other antiquities are to be seen, and on the _Via
Tiburtina_ itself only a very little of the ancient pavement in great
blocks. After a journey of fifteen miles, I arrived in time for dinner
at Tivoli, the ancient Tiburtum.

[Illustration: TIVOLI

_From Civitates Orbis Terrarum_

                                              _To face p. 166_, vol. ii.
]

This town lies at the foot of a range of mountains, the houses being
built along the somewhat steep ascent of the lower slopes. On this
account the site and the prospect therefrom are magnificent, forasmuch
as the view extends over a boundless plain, and includes the great city
of Rome. It faces the sea, the mountains stand in the rear, the stream
of the Teverone flows through it and, close by, takes a marvellous
leap, descending from the mountains and disappearing in a chasm of the
rocks some five or six hundred paces below. Afterwards it reaches the
plain, where it follows a course greatly varied, and joins the Tiber a
little above the city. In Tivoli is to be seen the famous palace and
garden of the cardinal of Ferrara, a most exquisite piece of work, but
unfinished in several parts and likely to remain so, as the cardinal
now owning it has stopped all operations.[128] I looked at everything
minutely, and I would attempt to set down here some representation
thereof, if so many books and illustrations had not been already
published. This outburst of a countless number of jets of water,
turned on or off by a single appliance manipulated at some distant
point, I had seen elsewhere during my travels, notably at Florence and
Augsburg, as I have already recorded. Here real music is produced from
a sort of natural organ, which always plays the same tune, by the means
of water which falls with great force into a round vaulted recess where
it disturbs the air and forces it to seek an exit, and at the same time
supplies the wind necessary to make the organ pipes sound. Another
stream of water turns a wheel fitted with teeth, which are set so as to
strike in a certain order the keyboard of the organ, and the sound of
trumpets is also counterfeited by the same agency.

[Illustration: THE VILLA D’ESTE AT TIVOLI

                                              _To face p. 166_, vol. ii.
]

In another place one may hear the song of birds, which is produced
by small bronze flutes, such as are seen at feasts, and give a sound
similar to that produced from those little earthen vessels full of
water into which children blow with a mouthpiece. This is worked by
mechanism like that used in the organs; and by another device an owl
is made to appear on the top of a rock, whereupon all the harmony
ceases at once, the birds being terrified at his presence. Then the
owl retires and they sing again. Thus they may be brought forward and
made to retire in turn as long as any one likes. Elsewhere a noise like
the report of a cannon is produced, and again other sounds, less loud
and very frequent, like the fusilade of arquebusiers. This is made by
the sudden falling of water into certain pipes, the air therein, by
struggling to find a vent, causing this noise. These same inventions,
or something like to them, working by the same natural causes, I have
seen in other places.

There are many pools or reservoirs edged all round with stone
balustrades, on the top of which are set divers high columns of stone,
distant one from the other about four paces. From the summits of
these pillars the water spouts forth with strong impetus, not upward,
but down towards the water in the basin. All the jets, being turned
inwards and facing one another, discharge the water into the tank with
such velocity that, when the threads of water collide in the air, they
let descend into the basin a thick and continual mist. The sun falling
upon the same produces on the surface of the basin, in the air, and
all round about, a rainbow so marked and so like nature that it in no
way falls short of the bow seen in the sky. I saw nought to equal this
elsewhere.

Under the palace itself are several vast cellars and ventilating
chambers, artificially made, which give out a cooling vapour and temper
the air in the basement, but this portion of the palace is still
imperfect. In this villa I observed many statues of great merit, the
most notable being two nymphs, one dead, and the other asleep; a Pallas
with divine attributes; a replica of the Adonis which is in the palace
of the bishop of Aquino; a wolf in bronze; a boy extracting a thorn,
like the one in the Capitol; the Laocoon and the Antinous, after those
in the Belvedere; the Comedy, also of the Capitol; and the Satyr of
the country villa of Cardinal Sforza; a copy of a recent work, the
Moses, from the tomb in S. Pietro in Vinculo, and of the beautiful
woman who is at the feet of Pope Paul III. in the new church of Saint
Peter’s. These same statues, indeed, gave me greater pleasure than any
others in Rome.[129]

Pratolino was certainly built in rivalry with this place. In the
richness and beauty of the grottoes Florence is far superior, but the
gardens of the cardinal of Ferrara surpass Pratolino in abundance of
water. As to the various diverting artifices produced by water-work,
they are about the same, what though the Florentine designer may have
produced a more elegant effect in laying out and ordering the ground.
This palace certainly has the advantage in antique statues, and in the
house itself. The Florentine erection, in the beauty of its site, and
in the view over the adjacent country, is vastly superior to that of
the cardinal of Ferrara. I should, however, have nothing but praise
for the natural surroundings of the villa at Tivoli were it not that
by ill-luck all the water therein, except that flowing from a fountain
in a little garden high up, of some which is brought into one of the
apartments of the palace itself, is the water of the Teverone, a branch
of which the cardinal has manipulated and cut therefor a special canal
for his own use. If this water were only clear and good to drink,
instead of being turbulent and dirty, this place would stand beyond
all comparison, especially with regard to the great fountain and its
adjuncts, which in construction and aspect is the most exquisite work
to be seen in this garden or in any other place. At Pratolino, on the
other hand, all the water comes from springs, and is brought from
afar. For the reason that the Teverone comes down from mountains still
higher than those of Tivoli, divers of the people of the neighbourhood
make what use they list of the river water, wherefore the cardinal’s
handiwork seems less noteworthy, because others have done the same
thing.

On the morrow I departed after dinner, and passed by a vast ruin on the
right-hand side of the road, which is by report six miles in extent.
This was formerly a villa, and known as the _prædium_ of the Emperor
Adrian.[130] The road from Tivoli to Rome crosses a rivulet impregnated
with sulphur. The banks of the stream are all white therewith, and the
stench may be smelt half a league away, but no medicinal use is made
of the water. In this stream may be found divers little substances
compounded of the scum of the water, which are so much like our
medicinal powder that few could tell the difference, and the people
of Tivoli make out of this same material all sorts of medicaments,
two boxes of which I bought for seven sous and six deniers. In Tivoli
are divers antiquities, two terminal images of a very ancient shape,
and the remains of a temple with several columns still perfect, which
legend declares to have been the temple of the ancient Sibyl. However,
on the cornice thereof there may still be seen five or six large
letters; but this inscription seems to have been left unfinished, for
the stonework beyond them is still intact. Whether any other letters
preceded these I know not, as on that side the wall is ruined. All that
are now visible run as follows: Ce ... Ellius L. F. What may be their
signification I cannot say.

[Illustration: THE TEMPLE OF THE SIBYL AT TIVOLI

                                              _To face p. 174_, vol. ii.
]

In the evening we arrived at Rome after a journey of fifteen miles.
I travelled in a coach without any tedium or discomfort, a rare
experience with me. The people here pay more careful heed to one
particular usage than in any other place; that is to say, for the
sake of health they find out the different characteristics of the
various streets and quarters of the city, and even of the suites of
apartments in their houses. This consideration is held to be of such
high importance that they always change their residence according to
the seasons. Even those who live in hired dwellings maintain at great
cost three or four houses, so that they may shift at the proper season
according to the advice of their physicians.

On the 15th of April I went to take leave of the Maestro del Sacro
Palazzo[131] and his associate. They begged me “to pay no regard to
the censures which had been passed upon my book; censures which,
as certain Frenchmen had informed them, contained many ignorant
statements: they declared that they honoured my purpose, my affection
towards the Church, and my ability: that they rated my good breeding
and conscientiousness highly enough to allow me at my own discretion
to cut out of my book with my own hand, at the next reprinting of the
same, any passages which might seem too plain spoken, and amongst
others those remarks about Fortune.” It seemed to me that they were not
ill pleased with me: moreover, to justify their careful examination
of my book and their condemnation of the same in divers particulars,
they instanced several contemporary books, written by cardinals and
ecclesiastical personages of high repute, which had been censured for
blots of a like character, the good name of the author and the book
itself having been left quite scatheless thereby. They ended by begging
me to give the Church the benefit of my eloquence (these are their
usual _mots de courtoisie_) and to make my abode with them in this
peaceful and untroubled city. Both of these men were of high authority
and competent for the cardinalate.

We tasted artichokes, beans, and peas about the middle of March.

In April it is light at what they call ten hours,[132] and, as I well
believe, at nine when the days are at their longest.

It was at this time that I made the acquaintance of a certain Pole, who
had been the most intimate friend of Cardinal Hosius.[133] This man
presented to me two copies of a book which he had written with great
care concerning the cardinal’s death. The pleasure of a sojourn in
this city becomes vastly greater by usage. I never breathed air more
pleasant or more healthy to my temperament.

On the 18th of April I went to view the inside of the palace of Signor
Giov. Giorgio Cesarini, which contains countless rare antiquities, the
most noteworthy of which are the authentic busts of Zeno, Possidonius,
Euripides, and Carneades, according to the very ancient Greek
inscriptions which are thereon. I saw also portraits of the fairest
Roman ladies of the present day and of the owner’s wife, the Signora
Clælia Fascia Farnese, who, though she may not be the most beautiful,
is assuredly the most amiable lady in Rome; or, for all I know, in the
whole world.[134] This nobleman boasts descent from the race of the
Cæsars, and by this right carries the banner of the Roman nobility.
He is a rich man, and he bears for arms the column with the bear
attached thereto, and above the column an eagle with outspread wings.
The vineyards are amongst the most beautiful features of Rome, and
these are in season in midsummer.

[Illustration: PALAZZO FARNESE

_Reproduced from Piranesi’s Views of Rome_

                                              _To face p. 178_, vol. ii.
]




VIII

ROME TO LORETO


On Wednesday, April 19th, I quitted Rome after dinner, being escorted
as far as the Ponte Molle by Messieurs de Marmontie,[135] De la
Trimouille, Du Bellay, and divers other gentlemen. When we had crossed
the bridge we turned to the right, leaving to our left the high-road to
Viterbo by which we had entered Rome, and having on our right the Tiber
and the mountains. We followed a road, exposed and very uneven, running
through a barren country void of inhabitants, and passed the spot known
as the _Prima porta_, _i.e._ the first gate, situated seven miles from
Rome. Some hold that the ancient walls of Rome reached to this point,
but I cannot see how this can be true. Along this road, which is the
ancient Via Flaminia, are situated divers rare antiquities about which
nought is known. After riding sixteen miles, we arrived at bedtime at
Castel Nuovo.

This is a small village belonging to the Colonnas, lying buried amongst
the low hills, in a situation which strongly reminded me of the fertile
passes in our Pyrenees on the road to Aigues Caudes. On the next day,
April 20th, we went on through the same sort of country, mountainous
but very pleasing, fertile, and well peopled, till we arrived at a
gorge beside the Tiber in which was situated Borghetto, a small village
belonging to Duke Ottavio Farnese. We resumed our journey when we had
dined, and, after traversing an exceedingly pleasant valley with low
hills on either side, we crossed the Tiber at Corde,[136] where may
still be seen vast piles of stone, the ruins of the bridge which
Augustus caused to be built in order that the country of the Sabines,
towards which we were travelling, might be united to that of the
Faliscii on the other side of the river. We next came to Otricoli,
a small village belonging to the cardinal of Perugia,[137] in front
of which, in a very fine situation, are some large and important
ruins. The country, mountainous and exceedingly pleasant of aspect,
is everywhere broken and uneven, but very fertile and populous. On
this road we passed an inscription which proclaimed how the Pope had
made and levelled this road, which he called _Viam Boncompagnam_ after
his own name. This custom, a common one in Italy and Germany, of thus
setting up a written record as a testimony of works of this sort, is an
excellent stimulus to urge on men of that temper which recks little of
the public weal to execute some useful work, from the hope of gaining
fame and reputation thereby. In sooth this road was formerly, for the
most part of the way, uncomfortable to travel, whereas now it has been
made level enough for coaches as far as Loreto. After travelling ten
miles we arrived in time for bed at Narni, which in Latin is called
_Narnia_.

This little town belongs to the Church. It stands on the top of a rock
at the base of which flows the river Negra, or in Latin _Nar_, one side
of the town being situated so as to overlook a pleasant plain through
which the river goes joyously along and winds in marvellous fashion. In
the public place is a very fine fountain. I went to see the cathedral,
and remarked that the tapestry therein bears divers inscriptions and
rhymes written in our old French tongue. I was not able to ascertain
whence it came, although I learned from the people of the place that
they had always been well disposed towards our nation. This tapestry
shows forth the story of the Passion and occupies one entire side of
the nave. For the reason that Pliny declares that in this country is
found a certain sort of earth which softens with the heat and dries up
in the rain, I made inquiries of the inhabitants concerning the same,
but they could tell me nought thereof. About a mile distant there are
some springs of cold water which work the same effects as our hot ones.
Certain patients still make trial of them, but they are in no great
repute. The inn, judged by the Italian standard, was a good one. We had
no candles, all the house being lighted by oil.

Early on the morning of the 21st, we went down the very pleasant valley
along which runs the Negra. This stream we crossed by a bridge at the
very gates of Terni,[138] where in the public place, we remarked a
very ancient column still upright. I found no inscription thereon,
but at the side is an effigy of a lion in relief, below which is a
dedication to Neptune in ancient characters, and also Neptune himself
sculptured in marble with his customary train.[139] In this same place
is an inscription in a prominent position in honour of a certain A.
Pompeius A. F. The people of the town, which was known as _Interamnia_,
because of the river Negra which passes close on one side and of a
brook which flows on the other, erected a statue to this man in memory
of the services which he had wrought, but it is no longer to be seen. I
calculated the antiquity of the inscription aforesaid by the use made
of diphthongs in writing _periculeis_ and other similar words. The town
occupies a very pleasant site. At the bottom of the valley, by the
road we had traversed, the level ground is very fertile, and farther
on the sides of the hills are populous and well tilled, the abundance
of olive trees making a picture as fair as the eye could wish, while
here and there along these slopes arise tall mountains, which display
themselves well cultivated and productive of all manner of fruits up to
the very tops. For the last four-and-twenty hours I had been grievously
tormented with colic, and at this moment the pain was at its worst,
but I did not on this account fail to enjoy the beauty of the country
around me.

After our departure we found ourselves in the passes of the Apennines,
and then we were able to appreciate what a great and seemly and noble
work the Pope has accomplished in the making of this new road at such
a vast expense and labour. The neighbouring people were forced to give
their labour in its formation, and they do not complain on this account
so much as of the fact that all the land required for the road, whether
arable, orchard, or aught else, was taken from them and no price paid
therefor. On our right hand we perceived a little town placed on the
summit of a pleasant elevation, called Colle Scipoli, or, according
to ancient usage, _Castrum Scipionis_. The other mountains are lofty,
arid, and rocky; and faring between these and what must be in winter
the channel of a torrent, we arrived at Spoleto after travelling
eighteen miles.

This is a famous and well-built city, situated in a hollow amongst
the mountains. There we were compelled to show our _bolletta_, not by
reason of the plague, of which all Italy was then free, but on account
of a certain Petrino,[140] a citizen of the place, and the most
notorious bandit of the country, of whom wonderful stories are told.
The people of Spoleto and of all the towns round about were in great
fear that they should be taken unawares by him. This country is thick
set with taverns, even in places where there are no houses. These they
make out of the boughs of trees, where you will find tables spread
with boiled eggs and cheese and wine. They have no butter, but serve
everything fried in oil.

On leaving the town this same day after dinner, we found ourselves
in the valley of Spoleto, a plain lying between the mountains, and
as fair a one as the fancy can picture, and two good Gascon leagues
in width. We could likewise discern many houses on the crests of the
adjacent hills. The road running through this plain is a continuation
of the papal road I have just spoken of, being made like a high-road as
straight as a line; and in our course we passed many towns on either
hand--amongst others, on the right, was Trevi. Servius, in his comment
on Virgil, declares that this is the place to which the poet refers
in Book VII. as _olivifer æque Mutiscæ_, a view which certain other
writers contradict. However this may be, it is a town built on the side
of a high hill, occupying a site which reaches half-way up the slope,
and most pleasantly situated, the mountain being covered throughout
with olive trees. Pursuing this road, which was renovated three years
ago and is now the finest that can anywhere be seen, we arrived in the
evening at Foligno, after travelling twelve miles.

This is a fair town situated on a plain, which, as I neared it,
reminded me strongly of the plain of St. Foi,[141] though it was beyond
all comparison richer and the town more seemly and populous. It is
situated on a rivulet called the Topino, and was formerly known as
Fulignium or Fulcinia, being built on the site of the Forum Flaminium.
On this road the inns are for the most part as good as those of
France, except that they hardly ever provide other food than hay for
the horses, and salt fish is almost always served in lieu of fresh.
Moreover, all through Italy they eat beans raw, and peas and almonds
green, and rarely cook their artichokes. The floors are paved with
tiles. They hold in their oxen by the nose, by means of a piece of iron
which pierces the division of the nostrils, the same as that used for
buffaloes. Their baggage mules, which are excellent and very plentiful,
are not shod before in our fashion, but with a round shoe, which is
larger than the foot and goes all round it. At divers spots there are
monks whose wont it is to give holy water to travellers, and to look
for an alms in return; and crowds of children who beg for money, and
promise to say a dozen paternosters on the beads which they hold in
their hands in return for what may be given to them. The wines are poor.

On the morning of the morrow, after quitting this beautiful plain, we
once more set out along the mountain road, on which we encountered many
fine level spaces, some on high ground and some on low. In the early
part of the morning we enjoyed for a time a most exquisite view of a
thousand varied hills, clad everywhere with the finest shady trees or
by fruit trees of all sorts, or by the richest cornfields, the ground
being often so steep and broken that it seemed a marvel how horses
could find their way thither. These lovely valleys, the countless
brooks, and the houses and villages on every side, reminded one of the
roads near Florence, except that here are no palaces or houses of
consequence, and round Florence the land is arid and barren for the
most part, unlike these hills where scarce a span of vacant ground is
to be seen. Certes, I saw it at its best in the spring-time. Often
we could espy one village far up over our heads and another beneath
our feet, each well fitted with the conveniences of life. What made
the prospect all the more delightful was that, beyond these fertile
hills, we could distinguish the rugged and inaccessible summits of the
Apennines, and the torrents descending therefrom, which, when they have
lost their primal impulse, come down into the valleys as gracious and
gentle brooks. While traversing these hills we could see, both on the
heights and down below, many fertile level fields, some of them wider
than the eye could cover on account of a slight slope in the distance,
the landscape being of a beauty and richness beyond the power of a
painter to imitate. Onward hence the aspect of our road took a varied
character, but the highway was always easy and level; and, after a
twenty-mile journey, we came, in time for dinner, to La Maccia, a
little town on the river Chiento.

We kept along the road, which took an easy course at the base of the
mountains, and here I had a dispute with the _vetturino_ and gave him
a box on the ear, which the custom of this country rates as a violent
outrage; as is exemplified by the case of the _vetturino_ who, for
a similar assault, killed the Prince of Tresignano. As I saw that
the fellow had left our company, and felt some apprehension lest he
should make a charge against me or work other mischief, I changed my
plan, which was to push on to Tolentino, and halted for supper at
Val Chimara, a small village at the end of the eighth mile, situated
on the bank of the Chiento. On the morrow, Sunday, we kept along the
valley between fertile and cultivated mountain slopes, as far as the
little town of Tolentino, through which we passed, and then came to a
more level region. Now on either side the hills were small and easy of
access, the whole region reminding me strongly of L’Agenois[142] in
the fairest part thereof beside the Garonne, except that here, as in
Switzerland, no castles or gentlemen’s houses are to be seen, but many
villages and towns are built on the hill sides. We made our journey
along the Chiento over a very fine road, the latter part of which was
paved with brick, for twenty-eight miles, and reached Macerata for
dinner.

This is a fine town, about the size of Libourne, built in circular
form on a hill, and rising equally on all sides towards its centre.
It contains very few houses of consequence, but I remarked one palace
of hewn stone enriched outside with square diamonds rising to a point
like the palace of the Cardinal d’Este at Ferrara,[143] a design which
gives a very pleasing appearance. At the entrance of this town is a
new gate with the inscription, _Porta Boncompaigno_, written in letters
of gold, which gate stands on one of the roads which the reigning
Pope has reinstated. The town is the residence of the legate for the
Marches. On these routes they serve the travellers with wine that has
been boiled, their custom being to boil it until it shall have shrunk
one-half, in order to improve it. By this time we were advised by the
crowds of people going and coming that we were on the road to Loreto.
Besides many single pilgrims, were troops of rich people going on foot
in pilgrim garb, some of these companies being distinguished by a flag
and by a crucifix, which was carried in front, and by a particular
sort of dress. After dinner we traversed an uninteresting country, now
passing over plains and small rivers and now over gentle hills, but all
the way the land was very fertile and the road for the most part paved
with tiles set on edge. We passed through Recanati, a straggling town
on high ground, which adapts itself to the hills and hollows of its
site, and arrived in the evening at Loreto, having gone fifteen miles.

[Illustration: LORETO

_From Civitates Orbis Terrarum_

                                              _To face p. 196_, vol. ii.
]

Loreto is a small village enclosed with walls and fortified against
attack by the Turks,[144] and built on a slightly elevated plain. It
overlooks a very fair stretch of country, and is not far from the
shores of the Adriatic Sea or Gulf of Venice; indeed they say that in
fine weather the Sclavonic mountains on the other side may be seen.
The town contains few inhabitants except those who serve the needs of
the religious devotees, some as innkeepers--and their lodgings are
dirty enough--and some as traffickers, that is, vendors of tapers,
images, paternosters, Agnus Dei, Saviours, and wares of this sort, many
of these dealers having fine and well-furnished shops, in which I,
personally, left behind some fifty good crowns. The priests and church
officials and the College of Jesuits are all lodged together in a large
modern palace, where lives also the governor, a cleric, to whom, as
representative of the legate and the Pope, all applications must be
addressed.

The holy place is a little house, very old and mean, built of
brick,[145] and much greater in length than in width. At the upper end
thereof a barrier has been constructed, having on either side a gate of
iron, and between these an iron grating, the whole fabric being rude
and old and lacking in all richness of furniture. The iron grating
aforesaid fills up the space between the two doors, and through it the
spectator can see to the end of the recess, and the extreme end, the
shrine, occupies about a fifth part of the space thus enclosed. This
is the spot of the highest sanctity. There may be seen on the upper
part of the wall the image of Our Lady, made, so the story goes, of
wood. All the residue of the shrine is so thickly covered with rich
_ex votos_ given by divers cities and princes that, right down to the
ground, there is not an inch of space which is not covered with some
device of gold or silver. With great difficulty and as a high favour
done to me, I was able to find a place whereon I could fix a memorial
device, in which were set four silver figures, that of Our Lady, my
own, my wife’s, and my daughter’s. On the base of mine was engraved
on the silver the inscription, “Michael Montanus Gallus Vasco, Eques
Regii Ordinis, 1581.” On my wife’s, “Francisca Cassaniana, uxor,” and
on my daughter’s, “Leonora Montana, filia unica.” These three are all
kneeling in a row before Our Lady, who is set somewhat higher. The
chapel has another entrance besides the two of which I have spoken, and
any one entering it thereby will find my tablet on the left-hand side,
opposite the door in the corner, the same having been very carefully
fixed and nailed to the wall. I had caused a chain and ring of silver
to be fitted thereto, so as to let it hang from a nail, but the chapel
officials preferred to fasten it to the wall itself.[146] In this
small enclosure is the fireplace of the cottage, and this they exhibit
by drawing aside some ancient tapestries which hang before it. Very few
persons are allowed to enter here, indeed there is a notice over the
door forbidding admission to any one not furnished with the leave of
the governor. These doors are of metal, very richly worked, and an iron
grating is fixed in front of them.

Amongst the other rich and rare offerings left there I saw a candle
recently sent by a Turk who had made a vow to Our Lady when he was
in sore straits, and ready to seize upon any rope which might offer
help in gaining safety. The other and the larger portion of the
cottage serves as a chapel, but no daylight finds its way thereinto,
and the altar is placed beneath the grating and against the partition
already alluded to. In it neither ornaments, nor benches, nor chairs,
nor paintings, nor wall-hangings are to be found, for it is itself a
shrine. No swords or arms of any sort may be taken therein, and no
respect is paid to a man because of his high rank. We partook of the
Eucharist there, a privilege not granted to all, as another chapel is
provided for this function on account of the vast crowds of people who
commonly present themselves. So great is the throng every day in this
chapel that it is necessary to be there in good time to find standing
room. When I communicated a German Jesuit said mass. People are
forbidden to pare off bits of the masonry; indeed were they permitted
to carry away aught of the same the whole fabric would disappear in
three days. They tell of innumerable miracles in relation to the place,
for details of which I refer the reader to the books dealing with
the same, but many have happened in recent times; also for an account
of the mishaps which have befallen those who, out of devotion, have
abstracted fragments of the building, even with the Pope’s warrant.
Also they show a little bit of brick which had been taken away while
the Council of Trent was sitting, and was brought back by miraculous
agency. The cottage itself has been cased outside and strengthened by a
square fabric of the most sumptuous character made of the finest marble
and carved all over.[147] Few rarer or more exquisite works can be seen
elsewhere. Around and above this structure is a large and beautiful
church with many fine chapels and tombs, amongst which is that of the
Cardinal d’Amboise,[148] which the cardinal of Armaignac[149] caused
to be erected. The cottage itself serves as the choir of this church,
which, however, has a choir of its own, but this is set in a corner.
The whole of this great church is covered with pictures, frescoes, and
painted legends,[150] and we saw therein divers rich ornamental gifts,
but I was surprised not to find more, considering how ancient is the
fame of this church. I have a suspicion that they melt down the old
silver plate and put it to other purposes; in any case it is estimated
that their annual offerings amount to ten thousand crowns of coined
money. No other place I have ever visited makes so great a show of
religion. All property which is lost there--and I speak of articles of
silver or others not only worth picking up, but worth appropriating by
people thus inclined--is deposited by the finders in a certain public
receptacle provided for the purpose. Any one who may be so minded may
abstract whatsoever he may desire from this receptacle without any
cognisance being taken thereof. When I was there I saw many articles
thus displayed, paternosters, handkerchiefs, and purses, such as none
would own, all at the disposal of the first claimant. With regard to
such things as you may buy and leave behind you for the sake of the
church, none of the artificers thereof will accept any payment for
his labour, for these craftsmen reckon that, by charging only for the
silver or the wood, they themselves share the benefit of the act;
anything like almsgiving or treating they steadily refuse. Likewise the
church officials, who are most attentive to those who wish to confess
or to partake of the communion, and in every other respect, will accept
nothing for their services. The custom is to give to some one or other
of them a sum of money to be distributed amongst the poor in your
name after your departure. Whilst I was in the _sacrarium_ there came
a man who offered to the first priest he met a silver cup because of
a vow he had made; and because he had vowed an offering of the value
of twelve crowns, and had laid out less than this on the cup, he paid
the balance on the spot to the aforesaid priest, who had put in a plea
for the payment of this sum of money as the strict due of the church,
and necessary for the perfect and conscientious fulfilment of the vow.
When this was done the priest led the man into the _sacrarium_ so that
he might himself offer the cup to Our Lady and say a short prayer,
the money being dropped into the common alms-box. Instances like this
occur daily. Gifts are received in a very off-hand fashion, indeed the
acceptance of them is reckoned a favour conferred.

I tarried the Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday morning, and went away
after mass. To declare my experience which I gathered in this place,
where I was vastly entertained and interested, I may say that my visit
coincided with that of M. Michel Marteau, Seigneur de la Chapelle, a
rich young Parisian[151] travelling with a large following. I received
from him and from certain of his suite a careful and detailed account
of the cure of a diseased leg, which he affirmed had been brought about
during a former visit of his to this place, and the account given to me
of this miracle was as exact as could be. All the surgeons of Paris and
Italy had been baffled, the patient had spent more than three thousand
crowns, and his knee had been swollen, powerless, and very painful
for the last three years. It grew worse, and more inflamed and red,
so that he was thrown into a fever. For several days he had ceased to
use any medicament or remedy; when, having fallen asleep, he dreamt
all of a sudden that he was healed, and that a flash of light seemed
to shine around him. He awoke, cried out that he was cured, called for
his servants, arose from his bed, and began to walk for the first time
since he had been seized with this infirmity. The swelling of the knee
disappeared, the shrivelled and half-dead skin got well from that time
without any further remedy. Being now completely cured, he had come
back to Loreto, his cure having been worked about a month earlier,
while he was here. He had been in Rome while we were staying there.
These were all the authentic facts I could collect from the discourse I
had with him and with his people.

The story of the miracle of the transference of this house, which is
held to be the actual birthplace of Jesus Christ at Nazareth, and of
its conveyance first into Sclavonia, next to a spot close hereto, and
finally to this very place, is set forth on large marble tablets fixed
along the pillars of the church, and written in Italian, Sclavonic,
French, German, and Spanish. In the choir I saw hanging a standard
of our sovereign, the only king’s device in the place. They told me
that great crowds of Sclavonians are wont to come here to worship, and
moreover, that as soon as they catch sight of the place from their
barks at sea they set up a cry, which they let continue in the town
itself, with many protestations and promises added, and beg Our Lady
to return to their land, pouring out their regrets that they should
have given her reason for deserting them; which thing seemed to me very
marvellous.

I was told that the journey from Loreto to Naples, one I was fain to
take, might be made along the sea-coast in eight easy days’ travel. I
should have to go by Pescara to Chieti, whence a carrier set out for
Naples every Sunday. I offered money to several of the priests, but
nearly all refused to accept it, and those who took it made all sorts
of demur and difficulty. In Loreto they keep their grain in vaults
under the streets. On the 25th of April I presented my _ex voto_. Our
journey of four days and a half from Rome to Loreto cost six crowns of
fifty soldi each, for the horses, for the men who let them to us and
fed them, and for ourselves. This is a bad sort of bargain to make,
seeing that they always hurry you along for the sake of saving their
own outlay, and treat you in very niggardly fashion.

On the 26th I went to see the Port, three miles distant, which I found
to be a very fine one, and a fort overlooking it which belongs to the
town of Recanati. Don Luca Giovanni, the _Beneficiale_, and Giovanni
Gregorio da Cailli, _Custode della Sagrestia_, gave me their names
when I was leaving, so that, in case I should need their services for
myself or for others, I might write to them; moreover, I received many
other courteous attentions from the aforenamed. The former is in chief
authority over the small shrine, and refused all the gifts I offered
him. I shall always feel under obligation to them for their courtesies
of word and deed.


END OF VOL. II.


Printed by BALLANTYNE, HANSON & CO. Edinburgh & London




FOOTNOTES:

[1] Montaigne evidently refers to the Roman theatre situated between
the Castello San Pietro and the river. Its destruction began early, as
it is described as ruined in a decree of King Berengarius dated 895.
Much of it remained up to the sixteenth century.

[2] Coryat, who saw it in 1608, describes it as greatly ruined and
put to base uses. Much of the marble had been taken away to other
buildings; but the damage was being repaired by the Veronese noblemen,
who had already spent sixty-six thousand crowns over the restoration.
To build it in England, he estimates, would cost two million pounds.

[3] Modern measurements are 502 feet by 401, and 98 feet high.

[4] Madonna di Campagna, one of the finest works of Sammicheli.

[5] Palladio had died a short time before Montaigne’s visit, i.e.
August 19, 1580. Vicenza was at this time at the height of its beauty,
all the noteworthy buildings, except the Teatro Olimpico, having been
completed.

[6] The fairs of Vicenza were amongst the largest in Italy, and were
instituted in the thirteenth century. During their continuance all the
shops in the city had to be closed. Fairs were held up to the middle of
the present century.

[7] The founder was the chief magistrate of the city, and is said to
have been moved to religious enthusiasm by reading the life of S.
Mary of Egypt. Montaigne is wrong in giving 1367 as the date of the
foundation of the order; it was the year of Colombini’s death. The
members of the order were originally laymen, and chiefly occupied in
preparing drugs. Urban V. placed them under the Augustinian rule. In
1606 they were allowed to be ordained, and in 1660 were suppressed by
Clement IX.

[8] It is singular that Montaigne makes no mention of the University.
Italy was then the great school of fencing, as he notices in the
_Essais_, ii. 27.

[9] Coryat notices this bust, and gives the inscription written by
Paolo Giovio: “Petri Bembi Cardinalis imaginem Hieronymus Quirinus
Ismerii filius in publico ponendam curavit: ut cujus ingenii monumenta
æterna sint, ejus corporis quoque memoria ne a posteris desideretur.
Vixit annos 76, M. 7, D. 29. Obiit 15 Calend. Februarii anno 1547.”
Writing of the other tombs Coryat says: “Amongst others in the Cloyster
I observed one that made me even lament, the monument of a certaine
English Nobleman, namely, Edward Courtney, Earle of Devonshire, who was
buried here in the time of Queen Mary; he died there in his youth, and
was the sonne of Henry, Earle of Devonshire and Marquesse of Exceter,
who was beheaded in the time of King Henry the Eighth. This Edward
Courtney was afterward restored by Queen Mary. Truely it strooke great
compassion and remorse in me to see an Englishman so ignobly buried,
for his body lieth in a poore woodden Coffin placed upon another faire
monument, having neither epitaph nor any other thing to preserve it
from oblivion, so that I could not have knowne it for an Englishman’s
Coffen, except an English gentleman, Mr. George Rooke, had told me of
it.”--_Crudities_ (1776), vol. i. p. 176.

[10] Coryat says: “He is represented according to his olde age: for
his face is made very leane and shaved.” The inscription under it, “Ve
T. Livius Liviæ I. F. Quartæl. Halys concordialis Patavi sibi et suis
omnibus,” has probably no reference to Livy at all. It was discovered
in 1363 near the church of San Giustina and removed to the Sala della
Ragione. This is the one which Montaigne mistakes for Livy’s epitaph.
Another inscription records the gift of Livy’s arm-bone to Alfonso the
Magnanimous in 1450. Coryat mentions a second statue of Livy, made of
freestone, and says that this was the effigy brought, together with an
inscription underneath, “from Saint Gustinae’s Church.” The monument at
the end of the hall was erected in 1547.

[11] Julius Paulus, who wrote in the time of Alexander Severus.

[12] Henry III. He fled secretly from Cracow on hearing of the death
of Charles IX. in 1574, but once clear of Poland he was in no hurry to
get back to France. He spent two months in traversing Lombardy, and was
regaled sumptuously by all the petty princes and nobles. The Emperor
Maximilian and the Doge of Venice gave him much excellent advice, but
he was only impressed by the processions and dances and fine dresses,
which he proposed to reproduce in France.

[13] Fusina.

[14] Arnaud du Ferrier was a distinguished French jurisconsult. Henry
II. made him President of the Chambre des Enquêtes. He represented
France at the Council of Trent, and by a violent anti-Roman speech he
raised a great uproar and was sent as ambassador to Venice in quasi
disgrace, and there Montaigne met him. According to Brantôme he used
to repair to Padua and there lecture on law. The king was greatly
displeased at this and recalled him. Henry of Navarre invited him to
his court and he became a Protestant. He died in 1585.

On the margin of the MS. Montaigne has written: “Ce viellard, qui a
passé septante cinq ans, à ce qu’il dit, jouit d’un eage sein & enjoué.
Ses façons & ses discours ont, je ne sçay quoi de scholastique, peu
de vivacité et de pouinte. Ses opinions panchent fort evidamment, en
matiere de nos affaires, vers les innovations Calviniennes.”

[15] A decree of the Council of Ten, July 12, 1380, ordains: “Si
quis nobilis vel civis acciperet literas ab aliquo de extra de re
spectante ad statum nostrum, illas capitibus Consilii tenerentur subito
presentare, et Capita debeant inquirere diligenter principium talis
praticæ, ut nostri cives omnino starent separati ab omni pratica et
commercio dominorum et comunitatum, et ab omni pratica rei spectantis
ad statum.”

[16] Fynes Moryson writes (Part iv., ed. 1903, p. 128): “I find the
generall Revenue of this State valued at two millions of gold yearly,
though Monsr. Villamont attributes so much to the citty of Venice alone
... and for particular cittyes these relations record, that Padoa
brings yearly into the Treasure of Venice thirteene thousand Ducates;
Vicenza thirtye two thousand; Verona nyntye thousand; Brescia (besydes
many extraordinary Subsidyes) one hundred thousand four hundred and
fyfty; Bergamo fyfty thousand; Vdane twenty fyve thousand; Trevigi
fourskore thousand.” But farther on he says: “A late writer hath
published in print that the generall Revenue of Venice amounts yearely
to two millions of gold crowns: that the Townes yield yearely eight
hundred thousand Crownes.”--A great disparity. Montaigne probably
refers to the share of Venice alone.

[17] There is a life of this lady by Tassini--_Veronica Franco celebre
letterata e meretrice veneziana_. She was married in her youth to
one Paniza, a physician, but she left him to take up the career of a
courtesan. Her name appears in that extraordinary document which the
late Earl of Orford printed for private circulation in 1870: “Catalogo
di tutte le principal et piu honorate Cortegiane di Venetia, il nome
loro, et il nome delle loro pieze, et le stantie ove loro habitano,
et di piu ancor vi narra la contrata ove sono le loro stantie, et
etiam il numero de li dinari che hanno da pagar quelli gentil homini,
et al che desiderano entrar nella sua gratia.” Her description runs:
“204, Veronica Franca, a Santa Maria Formosa, pieza so mare 2 scudi.”
In 1574 she gave up her profession, and by her wit and beauty gained
a status not unlike that of her forerunners in Athens. She certainly
enjoyed the friendship of divers men of note, Domenico and Marco
Veniero, Marcantonio della Torre and Tintoretto. Henry III. visited
her when passing through Venice and took away her portrait. In middle
life she devoted herself to religion and good works, and tried to
induce the Signoria to found an asylum for penitent women. She died
in 1591, aged forty-five. The book she sent to Montaigne was probably
_Lettere famigliari a diversi_, dedicated to Cardinal Luigi d’Este.
Lord Orford evidently had not read Tassini’s book or Montaigne’s
_Voyage_, otherwise he would have been able to give a more precise
date to the _Catalogo_, which he puts down vaguely to the sixteenth
century. According to Fynes Moryson, “the tribute to the State from
the Cortizans was thought to exceede three hundreth thousand Crownes
yearely.”

[18] “Il me semble avoir veu en Plutarque rendant la cause du
souslevement d’estomach, qui advient à ceux qui voyagent en mer, que
cela leur arrive de crainte: après avoir trouvé quelque raison, par
laquelle il prouve, que la crainte peut produire un tel effet. Moy
qui y suis fort sujet, sçay bien, que cette cause ne me touche pas.
Et le sçay, non par argument mais par nécessaire expérience. Sans
alleguer ce qu’on m’a dit, qu’il en arrive de mesme souvent aux bestes,
specialement aux porceaux hors de toute apprehension de danger.... Or
je ne puis souffrir longtemps ny coche, ny littière, ny bateau, et hay
toute autre voiture que de cheval. Mais je puis souffrir la lictière
moins qu’un coche; et par même raison plus aisément une agitation
rude sur l’eau, d’où se produit la peur, que le mouvement qui se sent
en temps calme. Par cette legère secousse, que les avirons donnent,
desrobant le vaisseau sous nous, je me sens brouiller, je ne sçay
comment, la teste et l’estomach: comme je ne puis souffrir sous moi
un siège tremblant. Quand la voile ou le cours de l’eau, nous emporte
esgalimët, ou qu’on nous rouë, cette agitation unie, ne me blesse
aucunement. C’est un remuëment interrompu, qui m’offence: et plus,
quand il est languissant. Je ne sçaurois autrement peindre sa forme.
Les medecins m’ont ordonné de me presser et sangler d’une serviette
le bas du ventre, pour remedier à cet accident: ce que je n’ay point
essayé, ayant accoustumé de lucter les defauts qui sont en moy, et les
dompter par moy-mesme.”--_Essais_, iii. 6.

[19] These baths were famous in Roman times--_Fons Aponus_. Livy,
Valerius Flaccus, and Pietro d’Abano, the great mediæval physician,
were born here. The baths have been restored, and are now crowded in
the season.

[20] This statement helps to account for the curious brevity of
Montaigne’s stay in Venice. The abbey in question is Praglia, a
Benedictine house of great repute for its wealth and liberality.

[21] Nicola di Cusa, a learned mathematician, a German by birth. His
work deals chiefly with statics, or rather with the weight of bodies in
water. He also put forth an ingenious hypothesis as to the motion of
the earth. His works were published at Basel in 1565.

[22] San Pietro Montagnon, a bath still in use. There is another San
Pietro in Bagno near Cesena.

[23] Probably Prèchac, a bath much frequented, lying near Dax in
Navarre. Munster, _Cosmog._, i. 375, commends the baths of this region.

[24] Luigi d’Este, brother of Alfonso II. of Ferrara. He was one of
Tasso’s earliest patrons, and took him to Paris in 1570. He was only in
deacon’s orders, and, from Montaigne’s remarks, was evidently a free
liver. In 1561 he was made cardinal, and died in 1586.

[25] Battaglia, about five miles beyond Abano.

[26] Frassine, a canalised river, which joins the Fratta and runs
parallel with the Adige to the sea.

[27] The secretary.

[28] The baths of S. Elena. They were probably known to the Romans,
but their modern use dates from the middle of the fifteenth century,
when they were brought to notice by Giov. Dondi. Later on, in the
seventeenth century, Il Dottore Selvatico restored the bath-houses, and
greatly increased the repute of the place.

[29] San Pietro Montagnon, near Abano.

[30] The secretary seems to have been still absent at this point, as
the narrative is written in the third person, but for the sake of
coherence it seems better to keep to the first.

[31] Adige.

[32] Luigi Ricchieri, one of the first of the Humanists.

[33] Alfonso II., son of Ercole II. and Renée of France. D’Estissac was
the bearer of letters of commendation from Henry III. and the Queen
Mother to the Duke of Ferrara.

[34] In the church of S. Benedetto. It is now removed to the library.

[35] Margherita Gonzaga, whom Alfonso married in 1579. She was the
daughter of Guglielmo, Duke of Mantua.

[36] It is strange that Montaigne should have made no allusion in his
journal to a visit which he paid to Tasso, who had been imprisoned
the year before in the hospital of S. Anna at Ferrara. In _Essais_
ii. 12 he writes: “Platon dit les mélancholiques plus disciplinables
et excellens; aussi n’en est-il point qui ayent tant de propension à
la folie. Infinis esprits se treuvent ruinez par leur propre force
et soupplesse. Quel saut vient de prendre de sa propre agitation et
allegresse, l’un des plus judicieux, ingenieux, et plus formez à
l’air de cette antique et pure Poësie, qu’autre Poëte Italien aye
jamais este? N’a-il pas de quoy sçavoir gré à cette sienne vivacité
meurtrière? à cette clarté qui l’a aveuglé? à cette exacte et tenduë
apprehension de la raison, qu’il a mis sans raison? à la curieuse et
laborieuse queste des Sciences, qui l’a conduict à la bestise? à cette
rare aptitude aux exercises de l’ame qui l’a rendu sans exercise et
sans ame? J’eus plus de dépit encore que de compassion de le voir à
Ferrare en si pitieux estat, survivant à soy mesme, mescognoisant et
soy et ses ouvrages; les quels sans son sçeu et toutefois à sa veuë, on
a mis en lumière incorrigez et informe.”

[37] Bologna.

[38] The Collegio di Spagna, the only separate college which still
exists, was founded by Cardinal d’Albornoz in 1364. There was doubtless
a French college for students at the time of Montaigne’s visit.

[39] This fountain was built while Cardinal Borromeo was legate. It was
designed by Lauretti, a Sicilian, the statues being the work of Gian
Bologna.

[40] Spoleto and the Bolognese territories as well were greatly overrun
with brigands at this period. Large bands of armed ruffians ranged
the country, nominally fighting one another, but really robbing and
murdering the helpless peasants. One band, that of Sassomolari, was
estimated to number four or five hundred men. Brigandage was not put
down till the pontificate of Sixtus V.

[41] Lojano.

[42] I fuochi di Pietramala. There are emanations of coal gas from the
rocks. At Acqua Buja, about a mile distant, the gas rises through the
water of a small lake and ignites if fire be applied to it.

[43] Pratolino, a villa built in 1573 by Francesco dei Medici, Grand
Duke of Florence. Little now remains of it save some out-buildings, the
colossal statue of L’Appennino, and some of the waterworks in which
Montaigne found so much to admire. It was built from the design of
Bernardo Buontalenti, but some portions--not the statue aforesaid--were
the work of Gian Bologna. The villa seems to have been in existence at
the beginning of the present century. The park now belongs to Prince
Demidoff.

[44] This alley is still in existence.

[45] L’Appennino, erroneously attributed to Gian Bologna. It was
repaired in 1877 by Prince Demidoff.

[46] These were in the Piazza S. Marco. They were built by Lorenzo,
Duke of Urbino, in 1515. In 1550 Cosimo transferred to an adjoining
site the wild animals which had been hitherto kept in the Palazzo
Vecchio. The Grand Duke alluded to was Francesco, son of Cosimo I.

[47] This was the Strozzi whose tomb Montaigne had recently visited
at Epernay (vol. i. p. 31). He was defeated by the Spaniards and
Imperialists at Lucignano in 1554.

[48] The statues in the Medici Chapel.

[49] In _Essais_, iii. 5, he writes in a more charitable strain: “Ceux
qui connoissent l’Italie, ne trouveront jamais estrange, si pour ce
sujet je ne cherche ailleurs des examples. Car cette nation se peut
dire regente du reste du Monde en cela. Ils ont plus communément
de belles femmes, et moins de laides que nous: mais des rares et
excellentes beautez, j’estime que nous allons à pair.”

[50] “L’hostelerie de l’Ange,” probably now “L’albergo dell’ Agnolo” in
the Borgo S. Lorenzo.

[51] Members of both these families had migrated to France.

[52] The battle of Marciano. The great hall in the Palazzo Vecchio was
painted by Vasari to celebrate the triumphs of Cosimo I.

[53] The notorious Bianca Capello. The Grand Duke had married her the
preceding year. The almost simultaneous death of these two at Poggio a
Cajano in 1587 is one of the mysterious crimes of history.

[54] _De ma taille._ Although the secretary is writing the comparison
is evidently with Montaigne himself.

[55] Ferdinando, son of Cosimo I. He renounced his orders and
succeeded his brother in 1587. He also was at Poggio when the tragedy
happened, and it was commonly believed that Bianca intended to poison
him, but Duke Francesco inadvertently drank the poisoned wine. The
younger brother was probably Giovanni, a son of Cosimo I. by Eleanora
d’Albizzi, born in 1562. The tragic fate of this prince and of his
brother Garcia is one of the mysteries of Italian family crime.

[56] Petraja.

[57] The image of the Chimera, now in the Etruscan Museum. It was dug
up at Arezzo in 1559.

[58] Catherine dei Medici.

[59] This is probably one of those traveller’s hasty generalisations
which Montaigne occasionally lets drop. In his second visit he modified
several of his earlier statements, and a very slight inquiry would
have served to show him that letters still flourished in Florence,
though not so freely as in the golden time of the earlier Medici. The
_Accademia Fiorentina_ was founded in 1540, and the year following his
visit saw the beginning of the Della Crusca.

[60] During the mediæval wars Siena always favoured the French party.
Villani (i. 43, 56) gives the legendary French origin of the place: how
in the eighth century Charles Martel marched against the Lombards in
Apulia, and left those of his troops who were old and unfit for service
at this place. Two refuges were built, and the name _Senæ_ given to
them, on account of the old men who dwelt therein. Villani calls it,
for this reason, one of the most modern of Italian cities, ignoring
Julius Cæsar’s foundation altogether.

[61] The Fonte Gaja, which was completed in 1343. The sculptured
reliefs were added by Jacopo della Quercia, 1412-1419. The sculptor
subsequently enjoyed the epithet “della Fonte.” It was well restored by
Signor Sarocchi in recent times. Dante’s eulogy of the market-place is
well known:--

    “Quando vivea pui glorioso, disse
      Liberamente nel Campo di Siena,
      Ogni vergogna deposta, s’affise.”

                                                            _Purg._, xi.


[62] These names all belong to the ancient Sienese nobility, and it
is almost certain that Montaigne is referring to palaces and not to
streets.

[63] He was one of the most celebrated captains of the age. He fought
in almost every country in Europe, and was equally distinguished as a
man of affairs and a courtier, as he managed to retain to his death the
favour and confidence of successive Grand Dukes of Tuscany. His son,
Ottavio, was the well-known general of the Thirty Years’ War. He died
in 1614, and is buried in the church of S. Agostino at Siena.

[64] This house is probably No. 32 in what is now the Via Cavour. It
was an hotel as late as 1852.

[65] A town near Bordeaux.

[66] After the capture of Siena by the Spaniards in 1555 a number of
the people of Siena, nobles as well as burghers, withdrew to Montalcino
with the intention of founding there a new republic. With them went
the French mercenaries who, under the Marshal de Monluc, had helped to
defend the city. Montaigne was, no doubt, inquiring after the tombs of
these men.

[67] This bridge crosses a stream called La Paglia, to which Montaigne
probably refers when he speaks of the village of La Paille.

[68] Ronciglione. The Farnesi had one of their finest seats here.

[69] A piece of money first coined by Julius III., worth about sixty
centesimi.

[70] Montaigne evidently feared the effect of the dew. Just before he
reached Roveredo (vol. i. p. 187) he writes to the same effect.

[71] This inn still exists at the corner of the Via di Monte Brianza
and the Via dell’ Orso.

[72] In the Via di Monte Brianza.

[73] He makes the same complaint of Padua.

[74] Gregory XIII. Ugo Buoncompagni di Bologna.

[75] Alessandro Farnese, nephew of Paul III.

[76] Ferdinando dei Medici, the cardinal whom Montaigne had recently
met at the Grand Duke’s table in Florence.

[77] This Caraffa was first advanced by his kinsman, Paul IV.,
but banished on the accession of Pius IV. Pius V. restored him to
his offices, and Gregory XIII. made him librarian of the Vatican.
In _Essais_, i. 51, Montaigne writes “d’un Italien, que je vien
d’entretenir, qui a servy le feu Cardinal Caraffe de maistre d’hotel
jusques à sa mort.”

[78] The fistula, or pipe, through which the Pope drinks the
consecrated wine. It would hardly give, as Montaigne suggests, any
security against poison; this would be compassed by “pregustation” on
the part of the sacristan and the butler.

[79] Louis Chasteignier de la Roche Posay, seigneur d’Abain. He went
with Henry III. into Poland, and was subsequently sent by Henry as
ambassador to Rome. He was afterwards charged by the Pope to carry the
papal absolution to Henry IV.

[80] The text from which the passage within brackets is translated was
written by Montaigne himself on the margin of the MS.--_Querlon’s note._

[81] Giacomo Buoncompagni, the illegitimate son of the Pope. His mother
was a servant in the house of Girolamo, the Pope’s brother, in Bologna,
where Giacomo was born in 1548. He was brought up by his father, and
his mother was afterwards dowered by Girolamo and married to a Milanese
mason. After his education was finished he was appointed to numerous
offices, his father having been made Pope in 1572, and the lordships
of Vignola, Sora, Arce, Arpino, and Aquino were purchased for him. He
was a soldier and a patron of letters, and a favourable example of his
kind. He died in 1612.

[82] Montaigne is probably referring to the Pope’s banishment of
Giacomo to Perugia in 1576, on account of an attempt made by his son
to protect a servant from the due operation of the law. With regard to
nepotism Gregory was moderate. He made two of his nephews cardinals,
but the well-known story tells how he ordered his brother back to
Bologna when he heard he was on his way to Rome to ask for preferment.
Ranke, i. 290.

[83] Probably Montaigne and the ambassador. The Cardinal de Sens was
Nicolas de Pelvi, afterwards Archbishop of Reims.

[84] _Essais_, ii. 11: “Je me recontray un jour à Rome, sur le poinct
qu’on defaisoit Catena, un voleur insigne: on l’étrangla sans ancune
émotion de l’assistance, mais quand on vint à le mettre à quartiers,
le bourreau ne donnoit coup, que le peuple ne suivist d’une voix
plaintive, et d’une exclamation, comme si chacun eust presté son
sentiment à cette charongue.” Catena was thirty years of age, and was
charged with fifty-four murders.

[85] “Je conseillerois que ces exemples de rigueur, par le moyen
desquels on veut tenir le peuple en office: s’exerçassent contre les
corps des criminels. Car de les voir priver de sepulture, de les
voir bouillir et mettre à quartiers, cela toucheroit quasi autant le
vulgaire, que les peines qu’on fait souffrir aux vivans.”--_Essais_,
ii. 11.

[86] The employment of fowls in this connection was generally curative.
Pepys writes, in describing the treatment of a half-drowned man (vol.
vii. p. 288, ed. 1896), “and they did lay pigeons to his feet while I
was in the house, and all despair of him and with good reason.” In the
case of these criminals the remedy may have been applied to revive them
for the next stage of the torture.

[87] Probably the Sala Ducale, painted by Mattheus Bril.

[88] There had been considerable activity in the reconstruction of the
city under Pius IV. The reigning Pope had continued this work as far as
the disorder in the finances would permit. The most important building
operations were carried out a little later under Sixtus V.--operations
which were accompanied unfortunately by the destruction of many
interesting remains of antiquity.

[89] Monte Testaccio. Gurson was a village in Périgord, the seat of the
Marquis de Foix, an intimate friend of Montaigne.

[90] This is incorrect: the present position and aspect of the Temple
of Janus indicate very little alteration of the level of the surface.

[91] Eugenius IV. laid a fine of 1130 scudi on the Jews of Rome, which
was spent in Carnival festivities and sports, of which Jew-baiting was
one of the most popular. The Jew races began under Paul II. in 1468,
and became more and more barbarous till their abolition by Clement IX.
in 1668.

[92] Exorcism is still a portion of the baptismal rite in the Roman
Church.

[93] Sent by Ivan the Terrible.

[94] This was not the Athenian, but Ælius Aristides, a rhetorician of
Smyrna, who lived in the time of M. Aurelius. The inscription on the
pedestal is ΑΡΙΣΤΙΔΕΣ ΣΜΥΡΝΕΟΣ.

[95] The polyglot version printed by the famous Antwerp Press in 1569.

[96] Assertio septem sacramentorum. It was presented to the Pope by the
English Ambassador in 1521. The scansion of the couplet is not perfect.

[97] Cardinal Sirleto, one of the most learned and benevolent men of
the age. He was the tutor of Carlo Borromeo. He died in 1585, and lies
buried in S. Lorenzo. Ranke, i. 347.

[98] Probably the Codex Romanus of the fifth century.

[99] Marc-Antoine Muret, a learned Frenchman, who passed many years
in Italy. Montaigne mentions him, _Essais_, i. 25: “Et Nicolas
Grouchi, qui a escrit _De Comitiis Romanorum_, Guillaume Guerente,
qui a commenté Aristote; George Bucanan, ce grand Poëte Escossois;
Marc-Antoine Muret (que la France et l’Italie recognoist pour le
meilleur orateur du temps), mes precepteurs domestiques....”

[100] This is almost certainly an allusion to Claude Mangot, a French
jurisconsult, who died in 1579, and left two sons. (A.)

[101] Ὁρος. The passage runs: Ὁρους ἀνειλε πολλαχὴ πεπηγότας πρόσθεν
δὲ δουλεύουσα νῦν ἐλεύθερα. Amyot’s rendering is, “Car il se vante
& glorifie en ses vers d’avoir osté toutes les bornes qui paravant
faisoient les separations des heritages en tout le territoire de
l’Attique laquelle il dit avoir affranchie au lieu que paravant elle
estoit serue.”

[102] Maxima pars novis tabulis aiunt semel fuisse pacta conventa
universa circumducta quibus consonare citius carmina Solonis. Gloriatur
etiam in his agri se ante pignori nexi fixos passim terminos removisse,
quæ pridem serviebant, nunc libera esse.

[103] Montaigne’s frank acceptance of this censure on Amyot, whom he
held in the highest esteem, is a remarkable instance of his liberality
of mind.

[104] The Sala Regia adjoining the Sistine Chapel. The frescoes
representing the fleet of Don John and the battle of Lepanto are
by Vasari; who likewise painted the scenes of the massacre of S.
Bartholomew and the murder of Coligny. The meeting of Pope Alexander
and Frederic Barbarossa is by Giuseppe Porta.

[105] There is some uncertainty as to the identity of this person. The
Marshal Blaise de Monluc, Montaigne’s friend, died in 1577, his brother
Jean in 1579, and in the _Essais_, ii. 8, he notices the death of
Pierre, a son of the Marshal, in 1568. The passage may refer to a son
of the Marshal.

[106] An obvious misprint for the Port of Claudius.

[107] At Porto. Fulvio della Cornia, a native of Perugia, and a
nephew of Julius III. He was deprived and imprisoned by Paul IV., who
suspected him of favouring the Spanish interests; but the reigning Pope
had advanced him to the bishopric of Porto.

[108] Ostia, though already in decay, was not in Montaigne’s time the
wretched place it is at present. La Rocca is possibly the castle built
by San Gallo for Julius II. At Castel Fusano, a mile to the south, is
one of the watch-towers alluded to, with stone figures of soldiers on
the roof.

[109] The salt works of Ostia are said to go back to the time of Ancus
Martius.

[110] On the death of Henry the Cardinal, in 1580, there was a disputed
succession in Portugal, and Philip II. of Spain succeeded in taking
possession of the kingdom. The states alluded to are, no doubt, the Low
Countries. The name of the ambassador was Don Juan Gomez de Silva.

[111] Sono stati presi undeci fra Portoghesi et Spagnuoli, i quali
adunatisi in una chiesa ch’è vicina San Giovanni Laterano, facevano
alcune lor cerimonie, et con horrenda scelleragine bruttando il
sacrosanto nome di matrimonio si maritavano l’un con l’altro,
congiongendosi insieme come marito con moglie. Vintesette si trovavano
et più insieme, il più delle volte: ma questa volta non ne hanno potuto
coglier più che questi undici, i quali anderanno al fuoco et come
meritano.--Tiepolo, _Relazioni Ven._, August 2, 1578.

[112] The pilgrimage churches: S. Giovanni in Laterano, S. Pietro, S.
Paolo, S. Lorenzo, S. Maria Maggiore, S. Croce in Gerusalemme, and S.
Sebastiano. The first five were the original patriarchal churches.

[113] _Essais_, i. 33, has for title, _La fortune se rencontre souvent
au train de la raison_.

[114] _Essais_, ii. 19.

[115] _Essais_, i. 25.

[116] Probably, _La république des Suisses_, by Simler: Paris, 1578.

[117] Filippo Buoncompagni, a nephew of the Pope. He was born in 1548,
died in 1581, and lies buried in S. Maria Maggiore.

[118] Paul de Foix. He began his career in the magistracy; and, having
fallen under suspicion of favouring the Huguenots, was imprisoned by
Henry II. He was released by the influence of Catherine dei Medici, and
sent on diplomatic missions to England and Venice. Under Henry III. he
entered the Church and became archbishop of Toulouse. He died in Rome
in 1584. There is mention of him in _Essais_, iii. 9. “Cette perte (of
M. de Pibrac) et celle qu’en mesme temps nous avons faite de Monsieur
de Foix, sont pertes importantes à nostre couronnes. Je ne sçay s’il
reste à la France de quoy substituer une autre couple, pareille à ces
deux Gascons.”

[119] The romantic story of this Pope is well known. Gerbert was an
Auvergnat, a youth of great promise, and after studying at the Cluniac
school of Avrillac, and under the Arabic teachers at Cordova, he became
a teacher in the school at Reims. He became archbishop in 991 and for
a time enjoyed the favour of Hugh Capet, but in 996 he fled to the
imperial court and accompanied Otho III. to Italy in 998, being created
archbishop of Ravenna at once, and elected Pope as Silvester II. in the
following year. He died in 1003.

The myths which gathered round Silvester’s personality are fully set
forth by William of Malmesbury, and by Vincentius Bellovicensis in the
_Speculum Historiale_. Having won the heart of his Arabian master’s
daughter, he stole his books and fled, helped on, it is hinted, by
the devil, who was anxious that he should be preserved and sit in the
chair of Peter. Like Friar Bacon, he made a brazen head with power
of speech, and besides this a clock and a musical instrument which
worked by steam. The head aforesaid prophesied that he would become
Pope, and would die in Jerusalem, a prediction which was held to be
fulfilled by the fact that he died after performing mass at Santa Croce
in Gerusalemme. The belief in his unlawful knowledge was widespread
and persistent, and in the _Vitæ Pontific._ _Ravennat._ it is written,
_Homagium diabolo fecit et male finivit_.

It is strange that Montaigne, with his mind always sceptical of the
marvellous, should have been led to regard Silvester’s character in a
sinister light. He had evidently read the laudatory epitaph in S. John
Lateran written by Sergius IV., but he seems to have been inclined
rather to credit the fables of the inscription in Santa Croce in
Gerusalemme. The epitaph of Pope Sergius runs as follows:--

    ♰ IS̅E̅ LOCUS MUNDI SILVESTRI MEMBRA SEPULTI
      VENTURO DOMINO CONFERET AD SONITUM
    QUEM DEDERAT MUNDO CELEBRE DOCTISSIMA VIRGO
      ATQ. CAPUT MUNDI CULMINA ROMULEA
    PRIMUM GERBERTUS MERUIT FRANCISGENA SEDE
      REMENSIS POPULI METROPOLIM PATRIÆ
    INDE RAVENNATIS MERUIT CONSCENDERE SUMMUM
      ÆCCLESIÆ REGIMEN NOBILE SITQ: POTENS
    POSTANNUM ROMAM MUTATO NOMINE SUMPSIT
      UT TOTO PASTOR FIERET ORBE NOVUS
    CUI NIMIUM PLACUIT SOCIALE MENTE FIDELIS
      OBTULIT HOC CÆSAR TERTIUS OTTO SIBI
    TEMPUS UTERQ: COMIT CLARA VIRTUTE SOPHIÆ
      GAUDET ET OMNE SECLUM FRANGITUR ROM̅E̅ RE̅U̅
    CLAVIGERI INSTAR ERAT CÆLORUM SEDE POTITUS
      TERNA SUFFECTUS CUI VICEPASTOR ERAT
    IS̅E̅ VICEM PETRI POSTQUAM SUSCEPIT ABEGIT
      LUSTRALI SPATIO SECULA MORTE SUI
    OBRIGUIT MUNDUS DISCUSSA PACE TRIUMPHUS
      ÆCCLESIÆ NUTANS DEDIDICIT REQUIEM
    SERGIUS HUNC LOCULUM MITI PIETATE SACERDOS
      SUCCESSORQ. SUUS COMPSIT AMORE SUI
    QUISQUIS ADHUC TUMULUM DEVEXA LUMINA VERTIS
     OMNIPOTENS DOMINE DIC MISERERE SUI
    OBIIT ANNO DOMINI CE INCARNATIONS M̅III INDI̅C̅

    I. M̈́AI. Ð. XII.

The inscription in S. Croce in Gerusalemme has been removed. It seems
to have been _in situ_ in 1592, as it is referred to in Schrader’s
_Monumentorum Italiæ Descriptio_, published that same year.

[120] _Essais_, ii. 15: “Voyez en Italie, où il y a plus de beaulté à
vendre, et de la plus fine, comment il fault qu’elle cherche d’aultres
moyens estrangiers et d’aultres arts pour se rendre agréable.” Also
_Essais_, iii. 5: “Ils font les poursuyvants en Italie et les transis
de celles mesmes qui sont à vendre; et se deffendent ainsi: Qu’il y a
des degrez en la jouissance, et que par des services il veulent obtenir
pour eulx celle qui est la plus entière: elles ne vendent que le corps:
la volonté ne peult estre mise en vente, elle est trop libre et trop
sienne.”

Madame Le Brun writes of a similar fashion at the end of the eighteenth
century: “On les voit à leur fenêtres coiffées avec des fleurs, des
plumes, fardées de rouge et de blanc: le haut de leur corsage, que
l’on aperçoit, annonce une forte grande parure; en sorte qu’un amateur
novice, qui veut faire connaissance avec elles, est tout surpris, quand
il entre dans leurs chambres, de les trouver seulement vêtues d’un
jupon sale.”--_Souvenirs_ (Paris).

[121] _Essais_, i. 11. “Mais ne veoid on encores touts les jours, au
vendredi sainct, en divers lieux, un grand nombre d’hommes et de femmes
se battre jusques à se deschirer la chair et percer jusques aux os?
Cela ay je veu souvent et sans enchantement: et disoit on (car ils vont
masquez) qu’il y en avoit qui pour de l’argent entreprenoient en cela
de garantir la religion d’aultruy, par un mépris de la douleur d’autant
plus grand, que plus peuvent les aiguillons de la dévotion que de
l’avarice.”

[122] An account of these relics may be found in Cancellieri, _Memorie
istoriche delle sagre teste dei SS. Apostoli P. e P._ (Roma, 1806), and
in the Dictionary of Moroni, _Teste dei SS. Pietro e Paolo_.

[123] Montaigne met Maldonat at Epernay, vol. i., p. 32.

[124] Of these gardens the Villa d’Este is now covered by the palace
and gardens of the Quirinale. The Orsini possessed gardens or vineyards
on Monte Cavallo, on the Pincio, and on the Aventine. The Sforza had
one garden near Monte Testaccio and one near the Barberini Palace. The
Farnese, Medici, Madama, and Papa Giulio exist at present. The Farnese
_a Trastevere_ is now the site of the Villa Farnesina.

[125] This function was the charge of the Confraternity of the
Annunziata, founded in 1460, and attached to the church of S. Maria
sopra Minerva by Pius II. Pius V. and Urban VII. left thereto large
benefactions.

[126] _Essais_, iii. 9: “Et puis cette mesme Rome que nous voyons,
merite qu’on l’aime: confederée de si longtemps, et par tant de tiltres
à nostre Couronne: seule ville commune et universelle. Le Magistrat
souverain qui y commande, est recognu pareillement ailleurs: c’est la
ville Métropolitaine de toutes les nations Chrestiennes. L’Espagnol et
le François chacun y est chez soy: pour estre des princes de cet Estat,
il ne faut estre que de Chrestienté où qu’elle soit. Il n’est lieu ça
bas que le Ciel ait embrassé avec telle influence de faveur et telle
constance: sa ruine mesme est glorieuse et enflée.”

[127] Montaigne writes at length over this event in _Essais_, iii. 9.

[128] The Villa d’Este was built by Pirro Ligorio for the Cardinal
Ippolito d’Este, son of Alfonso II. of Ferrara, in the middle of the
sixteenth century. Eustace, who visited it in 1801, describes it as
fallen to decay.

[129] The statues which Montaigne saw were all found in Hadrian’s
Villa. In 1780 a certain number of them were taken by Duke Ercole
III. to Modena, and the remainder removed to Rome and added to the
Capitoline Museum. The last-named statue was covered with a bronze robe
by Bernini in deference to current notions of propriety.

[130] This is all the mention he makes of Hadrian’s Villa.

[131] Montaigne notes his first interview with this official and the
objections taken to his writings on page 139.

[132] 4 A.M.

[133] Stanislaus Hosius or Hozyusz was a native of Cracow, and was
educated at Padua, where he was a fellow-student with Reginald Pole,
and at Bologna. He introduced the Jesuits into Poland in 1569, and
was charged with many confidential missions between Pius IV. and the
Emperor Ferdinand during the sittings of the Council of Trent. He
founded the hospital of S. Stanislaus for his countrymen in Rome. He
died at Capranica in 1579. Possibly the Pole mentioned by Montaigne was
Stanislaus Reskke, who has left a life of Cardinal Hosius, _Stanislai
Hosii Cardinalis Vita_, Roma, 1587.

[134] She was the daughter of Cardinal Alessandro Farnese, who,
according to the current saying in Rome, had made the three most
beautiful things in the city: the Palazzo Farnese, the Church of the
Gesù, and La bella Clelia. After the death of her husband in 1585,
she gave occasion for scandal on account of her connection with
the Cardinal dei Medici and Alfonso Vitelli. Her father ultimately
compelled her to marry Marco Pio of Savoy, who was ten years her
junior. The marriage was an unhappy one.

[135] Probably a misprint for Noirmôutier.

[136] Orte. The foundations of the present bridge are the work of
Augustus; the more recent portions having been built by Sixtus V.

[137] He had invited Montaigne to dine with him at his villa near
Porto. See page 128.

[138] It is strange that Montaigne, with his partiality for artificial
waterworks, should leave the Falls of Terni unnoticed.

[139] L’Angeloni, in his _Storia di Terni_ (Pisa, 1878), describes a
figure of Neptune found in some excavations near Lago Velino with the
following inscription:--

                             Neptuno Sacrum
                    L. Valerius Nigri Lib. Menander
                           Portitor Ocrisiva.

He also gives the inscription mentioned by Montaigne:--

                            A. Pompejo A. F.
                            Clu. Q. Patrono
                          Municipi Interamnat.
                           Nahartis quod ejus
                            Opera universum
                          Municipium ex summis
                      Periculis et Difficultatibus
                               expeditum
                         et conservatum est ex
                       Testamento L. Licini T. F.
                          Statua statuta est.


[140] Petrino was one of the most celebrated brigands of the
cinquecento. He began his career about 1577, and for several years
afterwards kept in terror the duchy of Spoleto and the south of
Umbria. He was active in these parts as late as 1581. His death and
capture were several times reported, but he seems to have escaped to
Spain, where he lived until 1640, and returned under the favour of the
Farnesi. He died at an advanced age in 1650.

Brigandage was rife throughout the papal territories at this time.
Gregory XIII. was on bad terms with all his neighbours on account of
his arrogance and extortions, and the Florentines and Venetians allowed
the bandits to take refuge in their dominions when pressed by the papal
forces. It is strange that Montaigne should have had so little to say
about it.

[141] Sainte Foix, in Périgord, close to Montaigne’s home.

[142] Now the department of Lot-et-Garonne. Matteo Bandello had held
the bishopric of Agen until a few years before this time.

[143] The Palazzo dei Diamanti, now the Pinacoteca, built for
Sigismondo d’Este in 1493. The building alluded to by Montaigne is
probably the Palazzo Mignardi.

[144] In the time of Leo X. the neighbouring city of Recanati had been
burnt by the Turks.

[145] The Santa Casa is built of stone and not of brick.

[146] Montaigne’s offering had probably disappeared before the shrine
was pillaged by the French, as there is no mention of it in a catalogue
of the _ex votos_ by Murri, printed in 1792.

In 1802 Eustace visited Loreto and found the treasury empty. “No
vestige now remains of this celebrated collection of everything that
was valuable; rows of empty shelves and numberless cases only enable
the treasurer to enlarge on its immensity and curse the banditti that
plundered it. ‘Galli,’ he adds, ‘semper rapaces, crudeles, barbarorum
omnium Italis infestissimi.’”--_Classical Tour_, i. 166.

[147] The marble casing of the Santa Casa was designed by Bramante and
the sculptures executed by Sansovino, Girolamo Lombardo, Bandinelli,
Giovanni da Bologna, Guglielmo della Porta, Raffaele da Montelupo,
Sangallo, and others. It was begun under Leo X. and finished under Paul
III.

[148] Louis d’Amboise was born in 1479, and made cardinal by Julius II.
He died at Ancona in 1517.

[149] Georges d’Armagnac was born in Gascony in 1500, and became a
Spanish ecclesiastic. He subsequently was made archbishop of Toulouse,
and died at Avignon in 1585.

[150] The principal works now in the church are by Luca Signorelli,
and Melozzo da Forli. Montaigne does not notice the bronze doors by
Girolamo Lombardo, which rival Ghiberti’s at Florence. The church was
begun in 1468 on the site of an ancient one which, according to Vasari,
was adorned with frescoes by Domenico Veneziano and his pupil Piero
della Francesca.

[151] According to Querlon, there is no record of any such person
in the _Nomenclature alphabétique des nobles de Paris et provinces
voisines_, a list made at the end of the sixteenth century. Neither
does the Abbé Lebœuf, in his _Histoire de la ville et du diocese de
Paris_, find the name of Marteau in connection with any one of the four
places called La Chapelle described in his book.




Transcriber’s Notes

Obvious typographical errors have been silently corrected. Variations
in hyphenation and accents have been standardised but all other
spelling and punctuation remains unchanged.

Italics are represented thus _italic_.