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.
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.