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.