At some distance from Bologna begins a canal dug by the hand of man. There the Lord caused us to meet with an inhabitant of Mantua who had just enlisted. We proposed to hire a boat as far as Ferrara together. "Whither are you going?" he asked. As we had the appearance of soldiers, and as he might conceive some surprise at seeing us turn our backs on headquarters, we hit upon the idea of telling him that our master was at the Council of Trent. "Oh," he remarked, "you are going farther, then?" We said neither "yes" nor "no." He knew a little Latin, like myself, and so I no longer kept up my part of a dumb man before him. He professed but small regard for the pope and papism. "How dare you," I exclaimed, "talk in that way in Italy, and on the very territory of the Church? And why, if these are your opinions, do you take service against the Evangelicals?" "What does it matter?" he replied; "I am not risking the loss of a cardinal's hat. I am a fighting man, and fight for those who pay me." When we got near to the Pô, he said: "Ferrara lies no doubt in your most direct road to Germany, but what could you see there of interest? It is only a big town of the old style. You had better come to Mantua, the country of Virgil, a handsome, pleasant, and strong city, with a superb castle. The rest you are likely to get in the boat will compensate for your coming out of your way. I'll go on shore just before Ferrara, and will get a boatman; the place is famed for its fat geese, which, at this season of the year, one eats smoking hot from the spit. I'll bring one back with me, together with bread and wine, and I shall only be gone a little while."
Ferrara, with its famous university, its actual importance, and ancient origin, unquestionably aroused our curiosity. Nevertheless, the advice of our soldier-friend was not to be despised, because by going up the Pô, we advanced in spite of the heat. Our guide soon came back, bringing with him everything he had promised. The boatman whom he brought was simply in his shirt sleeves, and drank at one draught a whole measure of heavy wine we offered him; then, flinging the towing rope over his shoulder, he towed us to Mantua, Ostiglia being our halting place for the night. Having got to Mantua in the morning of July 15, we were enabled to wander through the town before dinner time. Our expectations were in no way disappointed. After having shown us the castle and the principal buildings, our amiable soldier-friend insisted upon entertaining us at the inn. "Are you provided with small change that is current everywhere?" he asked us. "The fact is," he went on, "that the landlords pursue a regular system of cheating. They refuse to take your small money, so that you are obliged to change a crown, and then at the next inn they decline to accept the coin given to you except under its value. Give me a crown, and I'll get you money for it which is current as far as Trent." He brought back good pieces of silver, not to the amount of one crown, but of two crowns, asking us to accept the value of the second as a present, "because," he said, "I consider you very honest and straightforward companions." When we were outside the walls, he gave us full particulars of the route we were to take, recommended us to the safeguard of all the angels, and gave us his blessing. "It is worth more in the sight of the Almighty and against the devil than the blessing of Pope Paul at Rome by his own sacred hands." This was indeed a happy meeting, and we had reason to be grateful to the Lord.
Not far from Mantua, at a spot where the road branches off into four different directions, we came upon two travellers coming from Verona. If we had said one pater more or less with our good friend we should have missed them, which would have been a pity, for they turned out to be my former fellow-travellers from Kempten to Rome, who, having pushed as far as Naples, had returned by way of Venice; they were making for home by Milan and France. They wished me to go their way, and I was very willing; but as Nicholas was altogether of a different mind, it would have been wrong to vex the comrade God had so marvellously provided for me.
When I told them all about Petrus, my interlocutors had no doubt about the danger I had incurred by my imprudent confidence. Italians are not of much account. Germans, after a long stay in that country, end up by not being worth anything at all; and the proverb to that effect is a true one: "Tedesco Italianato è un diavolo incarnato." I learnt later on, both from writing and from oral news, about the troubles between France and the Low Countries, and about the obstacles we should have encountered if we had selected the route of Milan. It gave me a new subject for being grateful to the Lord.
We passed near enough to Verona to catch a glimpse of the buildings, to judge by which it must be a big town. At Trent, where both languages are spoken, and even more German than Italian, my pretended infirmity ceased, and it was Nicholas' turn to be mute, for the Lubeckian dialect is not understood until one gets to Brunswick.
In Italy the scorpions slip in everywhere; into the rooms, under the beds, in the sheets. Hence they place before the windows scorpion oil, that is oil in which one of these reptiles has been drowned. When put on the sting the oil stops the effect of the poison. Personally, I never caught a glimpse of a scorpion during the whole of my stay in Italy.
On July 18 we reached Botzen, a town of importance, famed for its rich mines. On the 19th we were at Brixen, a pleasant burgh, prettily situated. Its chapter enjoys great consideration. Dr. Gaspard Hoyer was its canon, and died there.
The Augsburg troops under the orders of Sebastian Schaertlin[[37]] had carried the castle of Ehrenberg. King Ferdinand tried to enter the place with the aid of the miners of Botzen, but the pay ran short, and, greatly vexed, the savage horde, which, though by no means devout, after all preferred Luther to the pope, made its way home. Between Brixen and Sterzing we had the misfortune of falling in with them. At the sight of our Italian dress, and our soldier-like equipment, they shook their spears. "Kill the papists; down with the Welch scum," they cried. Nicholas, who was accustomed to enact the spokesman, uttered a few words in his own dialect; thereupon the imprecations grew louder. "They belong to the Low Countries; they are no better than the Italians." "Brothers," I shouted, "you make a mistake. We are faithful Germans, Lutherans and Evangelicals like yourselves. Hence, no violence."
Thereupon we fell a-talking to each other. They complained bitterly of the king, and of his pretensions to carry on a war without a red cent. "Kicks instead of pay," they said. "We are much obliged. We are going back to our mines, where, at any rate, we can earn something." We parted quite cordially, and I once more recommended my faithful Nicholas to hold his tongue for the future, and to let me do the talking.
Innspruck, the capital of the Tyrol, is a moderately big town with long streets, consisting largely of stables for some thousands of horses, for the kings, the Austrian archdukes and their suites frequently halt there. The objurgations of the miners of Botzen induced us to change our dress according to the German fashion.