On the Monday morning I was astonished at the intense cold, cold such as I had never before felt at this season, and to mark that the vintage was still unfinished in these parts. We dined at Viterbo, where I put on my furs and got ready for winter, and went on twenty-nine miles farther to S. Lorenzo for supper, and slept at S. Chirio, after riding another thirty-two miles. All these roads have recently been levelled by the order of the Duke of Tuscany, a work of the greatest service to the public. May God reward him, seeing that he has made what were the hardest roads to traverse to be as easy as the city streets. The influx of travellers Rome-wards is a marvel; for this reason the charge for horses going thither is exorbitant, while coming away they may be had for nothing. Near Siena, as in many other places, we came upon a double bridge—that is, one with a structure on a higher level by which a stream of water is carried over the chasm. We reached Siena in the evening, after travelling twenty miles.
This night I suffered for two hours from colic, and I fancied I felt the movement of a stone. Early on Thursday morning I went to see one Guglielmo Felix, a Jewish doctor, who talked to me some time as to my general rule of living with regard to my kidneys and the gravel. I then left Siena, and was again troubled with colic for three or four hours. Then the pain came to a crisis, and I was assured that a stone must have passed. We travelled twenty-eight miles and supped at Ponteaelce,[112] where I passed a stone bigger than a grain of millet, with a quantity of red gravel, but I suffered no pain. We left on the Friday morning, and halted sixteen miles along the road at Altopascio, where we stopped an hour to feed our cattle. On the road we saw divers peasants gathering up the vine leaves, which they keep to use as fodder during the winter; others were collecting ferns wherewith to feed their cows. We slept at Lucca, eight miles farther on, and there divers gentle-folk and craftsmen came to visit me.
On Saturday, October 21st, after having eaten a bunch of grapes (in these travels of mine I have eaten fruit sparingly or not at all in the morning), I set forth without waiting for certain gentlemen who had made plans to accompany me. We travelled over a good road, for the most part level; on the right hand the mountains, thick set with olive trees, and on the left the marshes, with the sea beyond.
At a certain spot in the dominion of Lucca I came upon an engineering work which has partially fallen into ruin through the neglect of the government, a neglect which has been the cause of great loss to the country round. This was a construction devised to drain and render fertile the marshes aforesaid. In the first place, a deep ditch was dug through the marshes, at the end of which were fixed three wheels, kept in motion by a stream of running water brought down from the mountains so as to fall upon them. To these wheels were attached a number of buckets in such fashion that they took up water from the ditch on one side and threw it over on the other side of the bank into another channel on a higher level. This last-named channel, cut for the purpose and lined with bricks throughout, conveyed the water to the sea, and thus drained all the country round.[113]
We passed through Pietra Santa, a fortified town in the territory of the Duke of Florence, with houses in plenty but great lack of people, the report being that most of them either die or fall into ill-health on account of the badness of the air. After riding twenty-two miles, we reached Massa di Carrara, a place belonging to the Prince of Massa, of the family of Cibo, in time for supper. Here is a fine castle on the top of a little mountain, and half-way up the ascent, around the castle and below it, are the streets and the houses of the town, surrounded by fine walls. On still lower ground, outside the walls aforesaid, a large town is built on a level site and protected by walls recently erected. The situation, the streets, and the houses are all very seemly, the walls being adorned with paintings. I was forced here to drink new wine, as no other is to be had in these parts. By storing it in casks made of a certain wood, and by treating it with the white of eggs, they clarify it so that it looks like old wine, but it has a taste which is not natural.
On Sunday, October 22nd, we set out over a very level road, with the Tyrrhenian Sea about a crossbow-shot distant on the left hand. Along this road, between us and the sea, we saw a few scattered ruins, which, according to the report of the country-folk, marked the spot where once stood the great city of Luna.[114]
We came next to Sarrezana,[115] a town under the sway of Genoa, where we marked the Genoese device, Saint George on horseback, and the garrison of Swiss soldiers. The place formerly belonged to the Duke of Florence, and if the principality of Massa did not intervene between the two States it is well-nigh certain that the frontier towns, Pietra Santa—Florentine—and Sarrezana—Genoese—would constantly be at blows.
We left Sarrezana, where we were forced to pay four giuli for each horse for a single post, and where there was a great firing of cannon by reason of the arrival of Don Giovanni dei Medici, the natural brother of the Duke of Florence, who was returning from Genoa, whither he had gone, on behalf of his brother, to pay a visit to the Empress.[116] Many of the other Italian princes had gone there also, and every one was talking of the pomp displayed by the Duke of Ferrara on this occasion. He came to meet the Empress with four hundred carriages. He had asked leave of the Venetian Signory to pass through their territory with six hundred horses, and their answer was that he might cross their boundaries, but with fewer horses; whereupon he bestowed his followers in coaches, and was thus able to take all he desired with a smaller number of horses. I met Prince Giovanni on the road, a handsome young man, with a train of twenty well-equipped followers riding on hired horses, a practice which is no derogation from dignity in Italy, even for princes themselves.
After quitting Sarrezana we left the road to Genoa on the left hand, but for those going to Milan it matters little whether they go by Genoa or not. I had a strong desire to visit Genoa and see the Empress, but I was troubled over the journey I should have to undertake. Two roads lead thither, one of forty miles direct from Sarrezana, which takes three days, and runs through the roughest and most mountainous country. The way itself is stony and precipitous, the inns bad, and the road little used. The other goes to Lerici, three miles from Sarrezana, and there travellers embark and reach Genoa in twelve hours. I could not face the sea voyage on account of my weak stomach, and I shrank from the trouble of finding lodging in Genoa in its present crowded state, even more than from the discomforts of the journey by land. Moreover, I heard that the road from Genoa to Milan was haunted by thieves, and as I was exceedingly anxious to get home, I resolved to leave Genoa aside, and follow the right-hand road through the mountains, keeping always to the valley of the Magra, with the stream to our left. We passed through the lands of Genoa, of Florence, and of the Malespini severally. The road was good except in one or two rocky broken places; and, after riding thirty miles, we arrived at Pontremoli in time for bed.
This is a straggling town, full of old buildings, which are in no wise beautiful. There are also some ruins, and a legend goes that the town was known to the ancients as Appua. It is now under Milan, its last rulers having been the Fieschi. The first thing served to us at table was cheese, such as is made round Milan and Piacenza, and they offered likewise the most excellent olives, stoned and served with oil and vinegar as a salad in Genoese fashion. A basin full of water placed on a stool was handed round for the washing of hands, and each person had to use the same water. The town stands at the base of the mountains, which rise on all sides.