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.
LORETO
From Civitates Orbis Terrarum
To face p. 196, vol. ii.