ILLUSTRATIONS
THROUGH THE CASENTINO
“col cavallo di San Francesco”
I
The Casentino
“Li ruscelletti, che de’ verdi colli
Del Casentin discendon giuso in Arno,
Facendi i lor canali e freddi e molli
Sempre mi stanno innanzi....”
(Inf. 30, 65 ff.)
The Casentino is the name given to the upper valley of the Arno, where the river, rising in numerous streams on the slopes of the Falterona, flows southwards for about forty miles before it swings round in its course and runs north-westwards in the direction of Florence. The district, to use the words of a modern Italian writer, is “formed by nature in the shape of a basket”—those oval flower-baskets we see carried about the streets of Florence—“with its lowest part green with meadows, fields and vineyards, and encircled and, so to say, closed in by lofty mountains.” It is a district rich in memories of Dante and other associations. The halo of early Christian life, the gloom and splendour of feudal times, and the glow of the Renaissance, all linger here. And many beauties of nature, many feasts of the imagination here await the traveller who foregoes for a time the hasty temper of the tourist.
It was late one afternoon in April when we left the train at Bibbiena, and, shouldering our knapsacks, wended our way up from the station to the town. We were well in the land of the ancient Etruscans, that mysterious and visionary people whose fleet swept the Tyrrhenian Sea at a time when the greatness of Rome was not. Like other Etruscan cities, Bibbiena lies on the summit of a hill, and many examples of Etruscan art industry have been discovered in its neighbourhood.
It had been cold and cheerless in the noisy Italian train rattling up from Arezzo. A dull, stormy sky gave a desolate aspect to the irregular country and cast a shadow over the rugged mountains. But as we climbed the hill of Bibbiena our spirits rose. Side valleys opening up in different directions revealed winding roads and castle-crowned elevations; Poppi, with its soaring tower, stood up in bold outline; the higher mountains, many of them snow-capped, seemed to unite in one bold, forcible sweep. Which of these heights sheltered Camaldoli,