A pretty drive of an hour takes one up the valley to Santuario, a pilgrimage church with hospice, founded in 1536. The church, which is rich in marbles, contains a miraculous image of the Virgin, tricked out with velvet and jewels. She wears a diamond collar given by King Charles Albert, and a jewelled crown presented by Pope Pius VII. The chapter of S. Peter’s claims the right to decide what miraculous images are to be honoured with crowns, but the crowns themselves are conferred by the popes. In 1632 a certain Count Alessandro Sforza, a fanatic from Piacenza, by his will left rents of a large estate to furnish gold and jewels for this purpose; as time went on, the property grew in value, and the crowns at the same time became more splendid. The honour is usually reserved for the Virgin, but occasionally the Bambino is remembered as well. Figures of Christ are, however, never deemed worthy of being crowned, except He be represented as a babe.
The story of this image is not particularly novel and interesting. It was found by a peasant where now stands a little circular chapel on the hill above the present sanctuary. He saw the Virgin in a vision, who bade him go to Savona and bid the people erect a church to enshrine her. He did as bidden, but the good folk in Savona would not believe him, thought him crazed, and locked him up. In the night the Virgin released him. After some further trouble, and some further miracles, the story was believed and the sanctuary was erected.
Beside the image is a little marble figure representing the countryman who started the cult. Beneath the feet of the Virgin issues a spring of water that is supposed to cure all diseases, but is so intensely cold as to be more likely to do harm than good.
At Varazzi, near Savona, was born the famous Jacques de Voragine, about the year 1230. Nothing is known of the social position of his parents. In one of his writings he speaks of the eclipse of 1239, and says that he was still a child when it occurred. He became a dominican in 1244, and in 1292 was elected to the bishopric of Genoa. He laboured hard to effect a truce between the Ghibelline and Guelf factions, which for two whole months converted the streets of the capital of Liguria into a field of battle. He succeeded. But the peace was soon broken again. The story goes of him that, being present in S. Peter’s along with Boniface VIII. on Ash Wednesday, during the ceremonies, the pontiff, supposing him to belong to the imperial party, dashed the ashes in his face, shouting, “Remember, thou Ghibelline, that thou and thy Ghibellines will be reduced to dust.” Jacques is chiefly known through his Legenda Aurea, a collection of the most outrageous, but also the most romantic fables of the saints; a work that had an enormous sale in the Middle Ages, and was copied again and again, and read everywhere, and, incredible as it may seem, was believed as gospel. He died 1298.
At Albizzola Superiore is the palace of the Della Rovere family. Giuliano, nephew of Pope Sixtus IV., as a boy was wont to carry the farm produce from his father’s farm to Savona, either by boat or mule, however rough the season might be, and, if he did not sell in the market, was unmercifully thrashed by his father on his return. But when his uncle became Pope, all this was altered. He entered the ecclesiastical profession, became a cardinal, and finally Pope, as already told. The palace was built out of the plunder of the Church.
Mme. de Genlis visited the Della Rovere palace at Albizzola. She says:—
“The gardens are vast, but tasteless. I remarked there one thing very singular—there were none of the charming flowers one sees growing naturally in the fields; only oranges were there, and box; this latter cultivated with the utmost care, in the most superb vases that decorate the terraces. This villainous box, planted in splendid vases, occupies its position solely because it is more rare and costly a plant than myrtles, jessamines, and oleanders.”
She has given us an account of her journey to Albenga, over rocks, the mountain road being so steep and so dangerous that descents had to be made on foot. “I may almost say that we arrived barefooted, for the stones during three days had so worn and pierced our shoes, that the soles were nearly gone.” And beyond Savona she says
“the journey is most dangerous, but at the same time most interesting. The horror of the precipices made me walk three-quarters of the way, over stones and cutting rocks. I arrived at Genoa with my feet swollen and full of blisters, but otherwise in rude health.”
How the journey from Marseilles to Genoa has changed since Mme. de Genlis took that road with the Duchesse de Chartres a few years before the outbreak of the Revolution, may be judged by some further instances.