On Wednesday, April 19th, I quitted Rome after dinner, being escorted as far as the Ponte Molle by Messieurs de Marmontie,135 De la Trimouille, Du Bellay, and divers other gentlemen. When we had crossed the bridge we turned to the right, leaving to our left the high-road to Viterbo by which we had entered Rome, and having on our right the Tiber and the mountains. We followed a road, exposed and very uneven, running through a barren country void of inhabitants, and passed the spot known as the Prima porta, i.e. the first gate, situated seven miles from Rome. Some hold that the ancient walls of Rome reached to this point, but I cannot see how this can be true. Along this road, which is the ancient Via Flaminia, are situated divers rare antiquities about which nought is known. After riding sixteen miles, we arrived at bedtime at Castel Nuovo.

This is a small village belonging to the Colonnas, lying buried amongst the low hills, in a situation which strongly reminded me of the fertile passes in our Pyrenees on the road to Aigues Caudes. On the next day, April 20th, we went on through the same sort of country, mountainous but very pleasing, fertile, and well peopled, till we arrived at a gorge beside the Tiber in which was situated Borghetto, a small village belonging to Duke Ottavio Farnese. We resumed our journey when we had dined, and, after traversing an exceedingly pleasant valley with low hills on either side, we crossed the Tiber at Corde,136 where may still be seen vast piles of stone, the ruins of the bridge which Augustus caused to be built in order that the country of the Sabines, towards which we were travelling, might be united to that of the Faliscii on the other side of the river. We next came to Otricoli, a small village belonging to the cardinal of Perugia,137 in front of which, in a very fine situation, are some large and important ruins. The country, mountainous and exceedingly pleasant of aspect, is everywhere broken and uneven, but very fertile and populous. On this road we passed an inscription which proclaimed how the Pope had made and levelled this road, which he called Viam Boncompagnam after his own name. This custom, a common one in Italy and Germany, of thus setting up a written record as a testimony of works of this sort, is an excellent stimulus to urge on men of that temper which recks little of the public weal to execute some useful work, from the hope of gaining fame and reputation thereby. In sooth this road was formerly, for the most part of the way, uncomfortable to travel, whereas now it has been made level enough for coaches as far as Loreto. After travelling ten miles we arrived in time for bed at Narni, which in Latin is called Narnia.

This little town belongs to the Church. It stands on the top of a rock at the base of which flows the river Negra, or in Latin Nar, one side of the town being situated so as to overlook a pleasant plain through which the river goes joyously along and winds in marvellous fashion. In the public place is a very fine fountain. I went to see the cathedral, and remarked that the tapestry therein bears divers inscriptions and rhymes written in our old French tongue. I was not able to ascertain whence it came, although I learned from the people of the place that they had always been well disposed towards our nation. This tapestry shows forth the story of the Passion and occupies one entire side of the nave. For the reason that Pliny declares that in this country is found a certain sort of earth which softens with the heat and dries up in the rain, I made inquiries of the inhabitants concerning the same, but they could tell me nought thereof. About a mile distant there are some springs of cold water which work the same effects as our hot ones. Certain patients still make trial of them, but they are in no great repute. The inn, judged by the Italian standard, was a good one. We had no candles, all the house being lighted by oil.

Early on the morning of the 21st, we went down the very pleasant valley along which runs the Negra. This stream we crossed by a bridge at the very gates of Terni,138 where in the public place, we remarked a very ancient column still upright. I found no inscription thereon, but at the side is an effigy of a lion in relief, below which is a dedication to Neptune in ancient characters, and also Neptune himself sculptured in marble with his customary train.139 In this same place is an inscription in a prominent position in honour of a certain A. Pompeius A. F. The people of the town, which was known as Interamnia, because of the river Negra which passes close on one side and of a brook which flows on the other, erected a statue to this man in memory of the services which he had wrought, but it is no longer to be seen. I calculated the antiquity of the inscription aforesaid by the use made of diphthongs in writing periculeis and other similar words. The town occupies a very pleasant site. At the bottom of the valley, by the road we had traversed, the level ground is very fertile, and farther on the sides of the hills are populous and well tilled, the abundance of olive trees making a picture as fair as the eye could wish, while here and there along these slopes arise tall mountains, which display themselves well cultivated and productive of all manner of fruits up to the very tops. For the last four-and-twenty hours I had been grievously tormented with colic, and at this moment the pain was at its worst, but I did not on this account fail to enjoy the beauty of the country around me.

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’Agenois142 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 is a small village enclosed with walls and fortified against attack by the Turks,144 and built on a slightly elevated plain. It overlooks a very fair stretch of country, and is not far from the shores of the Adriatic Sea or Gulf of Venice; indeed they say that in fine weather the Sclavonic mountains on the other side may be seen. The town contains few inhabitants except those who serve the needs of the religious devotees, some as innkeepers—and their lodgings are dirty enough—and some as traffickers, that is, vendors of tapers, images, paternosters, Agnus Dei, Saviours, and wares of this sort, many of these dealers having fine and well-furnished shops, in which I, personally, left behind some fifty good crowns. The priests and church officials and the College of Jesuits are all lodged together in a large modern palace, where lives also the governor, a cleric, to whom, as representative of the legate and the Pope, all applications must be addressed.

The holy place is a little house, very old and mean, built of brick,145 and much greater in length than in width. At the upper end thereof a barrier has been constructed, having on either side a gate of iron, and between these an iron grating, the whole fabric being rude and old and lacking in all richness of furniture. The iron grating aforesaid fills up the space between the two doors, and through it the spectator can see to the end of the recess, and the extreme end, the shrine, occupies about a fifth part of the space thus enclosed. This is the spot of the highest sanctity. There may be seen on the upper part of the wall the image of Our Lady, made, so the story goes, of wood. All the residue of the shrine is so thickly covered with rich ex votos given by divers cities and princes that, right down to the ground, there is not an inch of space which is not covered with some device of gold or silver. With great difficulty and as a high favour done to me, I was able to find a place whereon I could fix a memorial device, in which were set four silver figures, that of Our Lady, my own, my wife’s, and my daughter’s. On the base of mine was engraved on the silver the inscription, “Michael Montanus Gallus Vasco, Eques Regii Ordinis, 1581.” On my wife’s, “Francisca Cassaniana, uxor,” and on my daughter’s, “Leonora Montana, filia unica.” These three are all kneeling in a row before Our Lady, who is set somewhat higher. The chapel has another entrance besides the two of which I have spoken, and any one entering it thereby will find my tablet on the left-hand side, opposite the door in the corner, the same having been very carefully fixed and nailed to the wall. I had caused a chain and ring of silver to be fitted thereto, so as to let it hang from a nail, but the chapel officials preferred to fasten it to the wall itself.146 In this small enclosure is the fireplace of the cottage, and this they exhibit by drawing aside some ancient tapestries which hang before it. Very few persons are allowed to enter here, indeed there is a notice over the door forbidding admission to any one not furnished with the leave of the governor. These doors are of metal, very richly worked, and an iron grating is fixed in front of them.

Amongst the other rich and rare offerings left there I saw a candle recently sent by a Turk who had made a vow to Our Lady when he was in sore straits, and ready to seize upon any rope which might offer help in gaining safety. The other and the larger portion of the cottage serves as a chapel, but no daylight finds its way thereinto, and the altar is placed beneath the grating and against the partition already alluded to. In it neither ornaments, nor benches, nor chairs, nor paintings, nor wall-hangings are to be found, for it is itself a shrine. No swords or arms of any sort may be taken therein, and no respect is paid to a man because of his high rank. We partook of the Eucharist there, a privilege not granted to all, as another chapel is provided for this function on account of the vast crowds of people who commonly present themselves. So great is the throng every day in this chapel that it is necessary to be there in good time to find standing room. When I communicated a German Jesuit said mass. People are forbidden to pare off bits of the masonry; indeed were they permitted to carry away aught of the same the whole fabric would disappear in three days. They tell of innumerable miracles in relation to the place, for details of which I refer the reader to the books dealing with the same, but many have happened in recent times; also for an account of the mishaps which have befallen those who, out of devotion, have abstracted fragments of the building, even with the Pope’s warrant. Also they show a little bit of brick which had been taken away while the Council of Trent was sitting, and was brought back by miraculous agency. The cottage itself has been cased outside and strengthened by a square fabric of the most sumptuous character made of the finest marble and carved all over.147 Few rarer or more exquisite works can be seen elsewhere. Around and above this structure is a large and beautiful church with many fine chapels and tombs, amongst which is that of the Cardinal d’Amboise,148 which the cardinal of Armaignac149 caused to be erected. The cottage itself serves as the choir of this church, which, however, has a choir of its own, but this is set in a corner. The whole of this great church is covered with pictures, frescoes, and painted legends,150 and we saw therein divers rich ornamental gifts, but I was surprised not to find more, considering how ancient is the fame of this church. I have a suspicion that they melt down the old silver plate and put it to other purposes; in any case it is estimated that their annual offerings amount to ten thousand crowns of coined money. No other place I have ever visited makes so great a show of religion. All property which is lost there—and I speak of articles of silver or others not only worth picking up, but worth appropriating by people thus inclined—is deposited by the finders in a certain public receptacle provided for the purpose. Any one who may be so minded may abstract whatsoever he may desire from this receptacle without any cognisance being taken thereof. When I was there I saw many articles thus displayed, paternosters, handkerchiefs, and purses, such as none would own, all at the disposal of the first claimant. With regard to such things as you may buy and leave behind you for the sake of the church, none of the artificers thereof will accept any payment for his labour, for these craftsmen reckon that, by charging only for the silver or the wood, they themselves share the benefit of the act; anything like almsgiving or treating they steadily refuse. Likewise the church officials, who are most attentive to those who wish to confess or to partake of the communion, and in every other respect, will accept nothing for their services. The custom is to give to some one or other of them a sum of money to be distributed amongst the poor in your name after your departure. Whilst I was in the sacrarium there came a man who offered to the first priest he met a silver cup because of a vow he had made; and because he had vowed an offering of the value of twelve crowns, and had laid out less than this on the cup, he paid the balance on the spot to the aforesaid priest, who had put in a plea for the payment of this sum of money as the strict due of the church, and necessary for the perfect and conscientious fulfilment of the vow. When this was done the priest led the man into the sacrarium so that he might himself offer the cup to Our Lady and say a short prayer, the money being dropped into the common alms-box. Instances like this occur daily. Gifts are received in a very off-hand fashion, indeed the acceptance of them is reckoned a favour conferred.

I tarried the Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday morning, and went away after mass. To declare my experience which I gathered in this place, where I was vastly entertained and interested, I may say that my visit coincided with that of M. Michel Marteau, Seigneur de la Chapelle, a rich young Parisian151 travelling with a large following. I received from him and from certain of his suite a careful and detailed account of the cure of a diseased leg, which he affirmed had been brought about during a former visit of his to this place, and the account given to me of this miracle was as exact as could be. All the surgeons of Paris and Italy had been baffled, the patient had spent more than three thousand crowns, and his knee had been swollen, powerless, and very painful for the last three years. It grew worse, and more inflamed and red, so that he was thrown into a fever. For several days he had ceased to use any medicament or remedy; when, having fallen asleep, he dreamt all of a sudden that he was healed, and that a flash of light seemed to shine around him. He awoke, cried out that he was cured, called for his servants, arose from his bed, and began to walk for the first time since he had been seized with this infirmity. The swelling of the knee disappeared, the shrivelled and half-dead skin got well from that time without any further remedy. Being now completely cured, he had come back to Loreto, his cure having been worked about a month earlier, while he was here. He had been in Rome while we were staying there. These were all the authentic facts I could collect from the discourse I had with him and with his people.

The story of the miracle of the transference of this house, which is held to be the actual birthplace of Jesus Christ at Nazareth, and of its conveyance first into Sclavonia, next to a spot close hereto, and finally to this very place, is set forth on large marble tablets fixed along the pillars of the church, and written in Italian, Sclavonic, French, German, and Spanish. In the choir I saw hanging a standard of our sovereign, the only king’s device in the place. They told me that great crowds of Sclavonians are wont to come here to worship, and moreover, that as soon as they catch sight of the place from their barks at sea they set up a cry, which they let continue in the town itself, with many protestations and promises added, and beg Our Lady to return to their land, pouring out their regrets that they should have given her reason for deserting them; which thing seemed to me very marvellous.

I was told that the journey from Loreto to Naples, one I was fain to take, might be made along the sea-coast in eight easy days’ travel. I should have to go by Pescara to Chieti, whence a carrier set out for Naples every Sunday. I offered money to several of the priests, but nearly all refused to accept it, and those who took it made all sorts of demur and difficulty. In Loreto they keep their grain in vaults under the streets. On the 25th of April I presented my ex voto. Our journey of four days and a half from Rome to Loreto cost six crowns of fifty soldi each, for the horses, for the men who let them to us and fed them, and for ourselves. This is a bad sort of bargain to make, seeing that they always hurry you along for the sake of saving their own outlay, and treat you in very niggardly fashion.

On the 26th I went to see the Port, three miles distant, which I found to be a very fine one, and a fort overlooking it which belongs to the town of Recanati. Don Luca Giovanni, the Beneficiale, and Giovanni Gregorio da Cailli, Custode della Sagrestia, gave me their names when I was leaving, so that, in case I should need their services for myself or for others, I might write to them; moreover, I received many other courteous attentions from the aforenamed. The former is in chief authority over the small shrine, and refused all the gifts I offered him. I shall always feel under obligation to them for their courtesies of word and deed.

END OF VOL. II.

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