Chapter XIII: Part 13

The subterranean fermentation of which Tuscany is the scene is no doubt due in a large measure to the changes which have taken place in the relative proportions of land and sea. Several isolated hills rise near the coast like islands from the sea, and these have evidently been joined to the mainland by the alluvial deposits brought down by the rivers. The Monti Serra (3,000 feet), to the east of Pisa, between the Arno and the Serchio, are almost insulated even now, for they are surrounded by swamps, and the level of the Lake of Bientina, at their eastern foot, is scarcely thirty feet above that of the Mediterranean. The heights along the coast to the south of Leghorn are not quite so isolated, but the lowland which connects them with the table-land of the interior is only of small elevation. The promontory, however, whose extremities are occupied by the towns of Populonia and Piombino (653 feet), is joined to the mainland only by a low plain of sand. The most perfect type of these ancient islands is presented to us in the superb Monte Argentaro, at the southern extremity of the Tuscan littoral, which rises boldly from the sea to a height of 2,085 feet, and is attached to the mainland by two narrow strips of land covered with pine-trees, enclosing a lake of regular shape: in the midst of it, on a fragment of the ancient beach, is built the town of Orbetello. This lake, which looks almost as if it were the work of a generation of giants, has been converted into an eel-pond, and millions of fish are caught in it every year. Towards the west of this mountain, in the direction of Corsica, lie the islands of Giglio and Monte Cristo (2,062 feet) and the rock of Formica. The island of Elba, farther north, forms a small world of its own.

The rivers of Tuscany have wrought great changes in the plains through which they flow, and along the sea-coast. Their labour has been facilitated by the nature of the soil which they traverse. The least rain converts the barren hill-slopes into a semi-fluid paste, which is carried by the rivers down to the sea. The mouth of the Arno has thus been pushed forward to the extent of seven miles in the course of a few centuries. In former times the Serchio and the Arno united before they flowed into the sea, but the Pisans diverted the former river to the {243} north, in order to rid themselves of its unwelcome deposits. Pisa, in the time of Strabo, stood at a distance of only twenty Olympian stadia from the Tyrrhenian Sea, and when the _cascina_ of San Rossore was built, towards the close of the eleventh century, its walls were close to the beach, which is now at a distance of three miles. Extensive plains intersected by dunes, or _tomboli_, and partly covered with forests of pines, have been added to the land in the course of centuries. These sandy wastes have become the home of large herds of horses and half-wild cattle, and the camel has been acclimatised there, it is said, since the Crusades. These changes in the coast-line may not, however, be due exclusively to the agency of the rivers, for there exists evidence of an upheaval of the land. The building stone known at Leghorn as _panchina_ is clearly of marine origin, and the shells which enter into its composition are still met with in the Tyrrhenian Sea.

From the French Chart. Scale 1 : 168,000.]

From the Austrian Staff Map. Scale 1 : 218,000.]

Amongst the changes effected by human agency in the basin of the Arno those referring to the Val di Chiana are, perhaps, the most important. This depression connects the basins of the Arno and Tiber, and may possibly have served as an outlet to the former river before it had opened itself a way through the {244} gorge below Florence. Formerly the water-parting between the two rivers was close to the Arno. A small portion of its drainage was carried to the Tuscan river, but by far the greater portion of the vale was occupied by stagnant pools, extending to the south as far as the latitude of Montepulciano, a distance of twenty miles. The whole of this region was a breeding-place of fever. Dante and other Italian writers speak of it as an accursed place. The inhabitants made vain attempts at drainage. The illustrious Galileo, when consulted on the subject, {245} declared that nothing could be done to mend this evil; and though Torricelli conceived that it would be possible to drain the valley, he took no steps to put his theories into practice.

From the Austrian Staff Map. Scale 1 : 328,000.]

About the middle of the eighteenth century the work of drainage was at length seriously taken in hand, directed by Fossombroni, the celebrated engineer. “Warps,” or _colmate_, were thrown up at the outlet of each lateral ravine between which the débris carried down from the flanks of the mountains was deposited. The swamps gradually filled up, and the soil became firm. By constructing a dam (_argine_) across the vale at the point chosen for the new water-parting, an outfall was created, and a line of stagnant swamps was thus converted into a pure rivulet. The valley, at one time a hotbed of fever, has now become one of the most salubrious districts of Italy. The newly won lands were at once taken possession of by agriculturists, and 500 square miles were thus added to the productive area of Tuscany. Villages, formerly inhabited by fever-stricken wretches, have become wealthy towns, and the success of this _bonification_, or reclamation, has been thorough. The torrents are under control now, and have already deposited 17,650 million cubic feet of alluvium over an area of 50,000 acres, as if they were intelligent workmen. The same system of drainage has been successfully applied in other parts of Italy, and particularly near Grosseto, on the right bank of the Ombrone.

Amongst the great drainage works which will evermore contribute to the glory of Tuscan engineers, the innumerable canals draining the plains of Fucecchio, {246} Pontedera, Pisa, Lucca, Leghorn, and Viareggio, each of which was formerly occupied by its lake, deserve to be noticed. One of the most difficult of these lakes is that of Bientina, or Sesto, to the east of the Pisan hills, which is supposed to have been formed by an overflow of the Serchio. In former times this lake had two effluents, one running north to the Serchio, the other south to the Arno. The outfall left nothing to be desired in ordinary times, but after heavy rains the two effluents were converted into inflowing rivers, and if the sluices had not been closed, the Arno and the Serchio would have rejoined each other in this inland sea. The Bientina, during such freshets, covered six times its ordinary area, and in order to save the fertile fields of Tuscany it became absolutely necessary to create a third effluent. The engineers conceived the happy idea of conveying this new effluent through a tunnel, passing beneath the Arno, three feet in width, into an ancient bed of that river, now supplanted by the Colombrone.

In most of these enterprises it was necessary to struggle on in spite of the miasmatic atmosphere, which hung more particularly over the littoral zone, where the fresh inland water mingles with the salt water of the Mediterranean. The blending of the two waters destroyed the fresh-water plants and animals, and the deleterious gases arising from their decomposition poisoned the atmosphere. About the middle of last century an engineer, Zendrini, proposed to construct sluices separating the fresh from the salt water. This was done, and the fevers at once disappeared. In 1768, the sluices having been allowed to fall out of repair, the miasmatic scourge immediately reappeared, and it was not until they had been repaired that the sanitary condition of the villages along the coast was improved. Twice since neglect to keep the sluices in a proper condition has been punished with the same results; but from 1821 they have been maintained in thorough order, and the sanitary condition of the country has ever since been most satisfactory. Viareggio, in the centre of this malarial district, was up to 1740 hardly more than a hamlet, avoided on account of its insalubrity, but is now a seaside town, the favourite resort of numbers of visitors.

Much has been done, no doubt, in draining the land, but there is still room for many improvements. The Maremma, a track between Piombino and Orbetello, remains one of the most insalubrious regions of Europe, in spite of what has been done by sanitary engineers. The inhabitants never reach a high age, and though they descend to the plain only when it is absolutely required for cultivating their fields, they frequently carry away with them the germs of disease. In the two summers of 1840 and 1841 no less than 36,000 persons suffered from fever amongst a total population of 80,000 souls, most of whom reside in villages built on hills, and only rarely visit the pestilential plain. In order to escape the pernicious influence of the poisonous air, it is necessary to reside constantly at an elevation of 325 feet above the sea, and even that does not always suffice, for the episcopal city of Sovana is notoriously unhealthy, though built at that height. Fevers occur frequently at a distance from the swamps, and Salvagnoli Marchetti is of opinion that they are due to the nature of the soil. The malaria is said to creep up clayey hills permeated by empyreumatic substances; it likewise {247} poisons the air of districts abounding in saline springs, and still more that near deposits of alum. Southerly winds are likewise most pernicious, and fevers rise highest in the valleys which are exposed to them. Places, on the other hand, which are fully open to the sea breeze are quite free from malaria, even if swamps are near, as at Orbetello and Piombino.

From the Austrian Staff Map. Scale 1 : 2,700,00.]

It is generally admitted that the coasts of Etruria did not suffer from malaria whilst the ancient Tyrrhenian cities were prosperous. The excavations made recently in connection with the railways have revealed a complete system of subterranean canals, which formerly drained the whole of the Maremmas. Populonia and other large cities, of which only a few ruins are found now, could certainly not have existed if the climate had been as unhealthy as at present. The ancient Etruscans were famous as hydraulic engineers. They embanked torrents, drained swamps, and rendered the country cultivable, but their engineering works were allowed to decay soon after they had been subjected, and the country returned to its primitive savageness. On the other hand, there are many towns {248} which were considered healthy during the Middle Ages, but are now desolated by fever. Massa Maritima, to the south-west of the Moutieri mountain, was rich and populous as long as it maintained its republican liberties; but no sooner had it been enslaved by Pisans and Sienese than its drainage works were allowed to fall into decay, and in the end it found itself reduced to the “shadow of a town.” Sanitary works carried out recently have brought back some of its ancient prosperity.

Amongst the causes which have contributed most materially towards a deterioration of the climate may be mentioned the destruction of the mountain forests and the rapid increase of alluvial lands resulting from it. The monasteries of Tuscany, which until quite recently were the owners of the fish-ponds in the Maremmas, energetically protested against the construction of embankments or other drainage works, which they conceived would interfere with their cherished Lenten food. Several of the inland towns rejoiced in the possession of some unhealthy swampy tract, to which obnoxious persons might be banished with a certainty of their dying. Even the Kings of Spain established a penal establishment at one of the most deadly spots on this coast, and banishment to Talamone, at one time a flourishing port of the Republic of Siena, was tantamount to a sentence of death.

Many attempts were made to reclaim these lands. Macchiavelli and other statesmen of Tuscany thought that the former salubrity of the climate could be restored by merely repeopling the country. Colonists were sent for from other parts of Italy, and even from Greece and Germany, but they soon succumbed to the climate. Since that time considerable progress has been made in rendering these marshy districts more salubrious. Trees have been planted, and, in combination with proper drainage, they have rendered many districts habitable which were not so formerly. Populonia is a case in point. Follonica, where there are furnaces in which the iron ores of Elba are smelted, is likewise looking up, though its inhabitants still fly the place on the approach of the fever season.

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The Etruscans, or Tyrrhenians, were the ancestors of the Tuscans, and long before the dominion of the Romans they were the preponderating race of all Italy. They occupied not only the whole of the southern slope of the Apennines as far as the Tiber, but had also founded a confederation of twelve towns in the Campagna, of which Capua was the head, and as traders and pirates they held possession of the Tyrrhenian Sea, still named after them. The island of Capri was one of their most advanced outposts towards the south. The Adriatic was likewise their own, for Adria, Bologna (called Felsina by them), Ravenna, and Mantua were Etruscan colonies, and the Rhætians in the Alpine valleys were their allies, and perhaps kinsmen. But who were the Etruscans? They have been classed with Aryans, Ugrians, and Semites; with Greeks, Germans, Scythians, Egyptians, and Turks. The Etruscan inscriptions on ancient monuments, though very legible, have not hitherto been deciphered satisfactorily. If Corssen’s interpretation is accepted, their language resembled the Latin tongues; but this {249} philologist, after all, may not be entitled to be called the “Œdipus of the Etruscan sphinx.”

The most common type of the Etruscans, as transmitted to us on cinerary vases, is that of squat men, often inclining to obesity, with broad shoulders, prominent face, curved noses, broad retreating forehead, dark complexion, dolichocephalous skull, and curly hair. This type is neither Hellenic nor Italian. Amongst their monuments there are none of those curious structures known as _nuraghi_, which abound in Malta, Sardinia, and Pantellaria, but dolmens are numerous. The sepulchral monuments, of which many thousands have already been brought to light, prove that the arts had attained a high degree of development in ancient Etruria. The paintings in the interior of the vaults, the bas-reliefs on the sarcophagi, the vases, candelabra, pottery, and bronzes, resemble similar work produced by the genius of Greek artists. The arrangement of their dwelling-houses, though not devoid of originality, proves the intimate connection existing between the civilisations of the Etruscans and early Greeks. It was the Etruscans who initiated Rome into the arts. The _Cloaca Maxima_, the most ancient monument of the Eternal City, the wall named after Servius Tullius, the Mamertine prison, and, in fact, all the remains of the Rome of the kings, were their work. It was they who erected the temples, supplied the statues to deities, built the dwelling-houses, and furnished them with articles of ornament. Even the she-wolf of bronze, now in the Capitoline Museum, and a symbol of the Roman people, appears to be of Etruscan workmanship.

The Tuscans of our day differ, however, in many respects from their Etruscan ancestors. These latter, to judge from the paintings in their sepulchral cities, were an austere race. They appear, likewise, to have been a nation of cooks and gluttons. Neither of these qualities can be laid to the charge of their descendants. The modern Tuscan is of an amiable and kindly disposition, he is possessed of wit and artistic tastes, easy to move, and altogether perhaps a trifle too pliant of character. The Tuscans of the plain, but not those of the Maremmas, are the most gentle of Italians; they “live and let live,” and are exceedingly good-natured. A singular trait distinguishes them from the rest of the Italians: though brave when carried away by passion, they turn with horror from a dead body. In this we may trace the persistence of ancient superstitions, for though the Tyrrhenians concealed their tombs, the worship of the dead was the most prominent of their religious observances.

The modern Tuscans, like their ancestors, have known a time when they took the lead amongst the people of Italy, and even now they stand at the head of the nation in certain respects. After the decadence of Rome, when civilisation gravitated towards the north, the valley of the Arno became one of the great centres of the world’s activity. At that time the passage of the Alps was still difficult, but communications by sea were established between Tuscany, France, and Spain. The Apennines not only sheltered the fertile valleys opening upon the Tyrrhenian against cold northerly winds, but also against the hordes of barbarian invaders. Tuscany was, indeed, a favoured region, and its intelligent {250} inhabitants made the most of the natural advantages they possessed. “Work” was the great law of the Florentines, and all, without exception, were expected to engage in it. Whilst Pisa disputed the dominion of the sea with Genoa and Venice, Florence became the head-quarters of commerce, and its bankers extended their operations to every part of Europe.

But Tuscany was more than a commercial and industrial country. What Athens had been to the world two thousand years ago, republican Florence became during its period of prosperity, and for the second time in the history of mankind there arose one of those centres of light the reflected rays from which still illuminate our own times. Arts, letters, sciences, and political economy—everything, in fact, that is noble in this world was cultivated with an energy to which nations had been strangers for a long time. The pliant genius of the Tuscans revelled in every species of work, and amongst the names great in history Florence may fairly claim some of the greatest. Where are the men that have exercised a greater influence in the world of art and intellect than Giotto, Orgagna, Masaccio, Michael Angelo, Leonardo da Vinci, Andrea del Sarto, Brunelleschi, Savonarola, Galileo, or Macchiavelli? It was a Florentine, too, Amerigo Vespucci, who gave his name to the New World, and justly so, for it was Vespucci through whom the discoveries made by the Spaniards first became known, and who, in 1501, bestowed the name of _Novus Mundus_ upon the newly discovered countries, whilst Columbus died in the belief that he had reached the eastern coast of Asia.

The dialect of Florence has become the polished language of the whole of Italy, and it is curious that this honour should not have been carried off by Rome. But whilst Florence cultivated the arts and sciences, and through her great writers exercised an immense influence, the city of the popes yielded herself up to the worship of the past, and its literature was written in a dead language, more or less successfully imitated from that of Cicero. The dialect of Rome never became a language like that of Florence, but Italian is nevertheless indebted to Rome for its musical pronunciation, that of the Tuscans being harsh and guttural. Hence the old proverb, “Lingua Toscana in bocca Romana.” The delicate, pure poetry breathed in the _ritornelli_ which Tuscan peasants chant in the evening is highly appreciated by all admirers of Italian, and the influence which the fine dialect of the Florentines exercised upon the unification of Italy can hardly be overestimated. The worshippers of Dante are almost justified in saying that Italian unity dates from the day on which the great poet first expressed himself in the firm and sonorous language which he had forged out of the various dialects spoken throughout the peninsula.

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The geographical position of Tuscany accounts for the influence it has exercised upon Italy and the rest of the world, whilst its topography gives us the key to the local history of the country. The Apennines and the mountains to the south of the Arno divide it into a number of separate basins, each of which gave birth to a small state or republic. At the time of the Tyrrhenians Etruria formed {251} a confederation of cities, whilst during the Middle Ages it was divided into numerous small republics, frequently at war with each other. Since that time many changes have taken place in the relative importance of the various towns, but even now most of the free cities of the Middle Ages, and even some founded by the ancient Etruscans, occupy a high rank amongst the provincial towns of Italy.

Florence (Firenze) is not one of these ancient cities of the Tyrrhenians; it is merely a Roman colony of comparatively modern origin. In the time of the Empire it was of small importance, for Fiesole, on a hill to the north, remained the leading town of the country until destroyed by the Florentines, who carried its columns and statues to their own town. The rapid growth of Florence during the Middle Ages is due to its position on the highway which connects Germany, Lombardy, and even Bologna with Southern Italy. As long as Rome was the capital of Italy travellers starting from the valley of the Tiber crossed the Apennines in the direction of Ancona and Ariminum. But after the fall of Rome, when barbarian hordes inundated the country from the north, the high-roads connecting the plains of Lombardy with the valley of the Arno rose into importance. This great military highway became simultaneously a high-road of commerce, and it was only natural that a great emporium should spring up on the site occupied by Florence. The “city of flowers” prospered, and became the marvel which we still admire. But the wealth of the growing commonwealth proved its destruction. The rich bankers grasped at political power, the Medici assumed the title of princes, and though the arts continued to flourish for awhile, public virtues decayed, the citizens became subjects, and intellectual life ceased.

Florence, as in the days of republican liberty, owes much of its wealth to the industry of its inhabitants. There are manufactories of silks and woollen goods, of straw hats, mosaics, china, cut stones (_pierra dura_), and other objects, all of them requiring workmen possessed of taste and manual dexterity. But neither these industries nor the commerce carried on by the town would have raised Florence above the level of other populous Italian cities. The prominent position it holds is due entirely to the beauty of its monuments, which attract to it the lovers of art from every quarter of the world. Not even Venice is equally rich in architectural masterpieces of the Middle Ages and the Renaissance. The museums of Florence “la Bella”—such as the Uffizi, the Pitti Galleries, and the Academy of Arts—are amongst the richest in Europe, and contain some of the most highly prized treasures of art; its libraries abound in curious manuscripts and rare old books. Nay, the very streets and piazzas of the town, with their palaces, towers, churches, and statues, may be likened to a huge museum. Brunelleschi’s Duomo; Giotto’s Campanilla, which was to “surpass in beauty all imagination can conceive;” the Baptistery, with its incomparable doors of brass; the Piazza della Signoria; the monastery of San Marco, now a museum; the gloomy palace of the Strozzi; and numerous other buildings of superior merit make Florence the delightful place it is. Its charms are enhanced by the beauty of the surrounding {252} country, and the traveller will always recall with pleasure the walks along the Arno, the hills of San Miniato and Belle Sguardo, and the picturesque spur upon which lie the villas and ruins of Etruscan Fiesole. Unfortunately the climate of Florence leaves much to be desired; the wind changes abruptly, and the heat in summer is overpowering. _Il caldo di Firenze_ has become proverbial throughout Italy. Narrow streets, and to some extent the disregard of the laws of hygiene, cause the mortality to exceed that of nearly every other town on the Continent. During the Middle Ages pestilence was a frequent visitor, and Boccaccio tells us that in an single season nearly 100,000 inhabitants, or two-thirds of the entire population, were swept away by it. Targioni Tozetti contrasts the site of Empoli, a small town to the west, with that of Florence, and regrets that a project for removing Florence thither should not have been carried out, as proposed in 1260.

The only town of any importance in the upper valley of the Arno is Arezzo, an ancient city of the Etruscans, and at one time the capital of one of the most prosperous republics of the Middle Ages. The inhabitants ascribe to the “subtile {253} air they breathe the subtility of their spirits,” and indeed the list of famous men connected with the town is very long. The present Arezzo, however, is a decayed place, and lives upon the memories and the monuments of a past age. Cortona, farther south, near the Lake of Trasimeno, claims to be the most ancient city of Italy; but all traces of its former greatness have disappeared. Siena, which formerly governed the whole of the hilly tract between the Arno and Ombrone, has fallen from her high estate, not without the fault of its own citizens, who were continually quarrelling amongst themselves. Siena no longer rivals Florence in population, power, or industry, but may still compare with the city on the Arno as regards its public buildings—many of them in the Gothic style—its works of art, its quaint streets and piazzas, and its magnificent position on the slopes of three hills. Chiusa, one of the most powerful towns of ancient Etruria, is of no importance now, and only attracts antiquarians in search of its ancient tombs. The vineyards of Montepulciano, on the same side of the vale of Chiani, produce the “king of wines.” Volterra is only a small town now, interesting, however, on account of its cyclopean walls and a museum abounding in Etruscan antiquities. The environs are dreary in the extreme. Salt-works, yielding from 7,000 to 8,000 tons a year, quarries of alabaster, copper mines at Monte Catini, sulphur springs, and the famous _lagoni di Monti Cerboli_ (see p. 242), are in the neighbourhood.

The cities at the foot of the Apennines, on the other side of the Arno, have retained their importance, for they are favourably situated for commerce. Prato, where the valley of the Arno is widest, is the centre of a rich agricultural district. The quarries of serpentine in the neighbourhood have furnished building stones for many of the most beautiful edifices of Tuscany, including the cathedral of Prato, celebrated on account of Donatello’s marvellously sculptured pulpit. Pistoja, where the railway descends from the Apennines, is a busy manufacturing town. Other towns of some importance are Pescia, Capannori, in the “garden of Italy,” and Lucca the industrious, with its celebrated pictures by Fra Bartolommeo.

The basin of the Serchio is of incomparable productiveness since its marsh lands have been brought under cultivation. From the ramparts of Lucca one of the most charming views may be enjoyed. On the one hand we have the towers and cupolas of the town, on the other fertile fields and orchards, with white houses peeping through the verdure, and distant hills surmounted by old towers. The impression made by this view is one of perfect peace. In a country so fertile and beautiful, it would seem, the people ought to be happy, and, if enthusiastic writers can be believed, such is really the case, and the peasants of Lucca and of Lower Tuscany in general enjoy advantages denied to their class elsewhere in Italy. They are farmers for the most part, but hold their land by long leases, and their share of its produce is regulated by ancient custom. The land, however, does not suffice for their wants, and they emigrate in thousands in search of work. Many of these emigrants work as grinders.

The inhabitants of the Upper Serchio valley, known as the Garfagnana, are as industrious as those near Lucca, which is the natural outlet for its produce. The slopes and spurs descending from the Apennines and Apuanic Alps are cultivated {254} in terraces. Castelnuovo, the chief town of this valley, occupies one of the most delightful spots of this picturesque district. The common people near it are said to speak the best Italian, superior even to that of the Sienese.

The valley of the Magra is far more frequented than that of Garfagnana, for the high-road from Parma to the Gulf of Spezia leads through it. In its upper portion, in the heart of the Apennines, stands the small town of Pontremoli. Its inferior portion, known as the Lunigiana, from the ancient city of Luni, is as beautiful as the parallel valley of the Serchio. At Sazana it opens upon the sea, and to the south of that charming town, where the Apuanic Alps approach close to the sea, leaving only a narrow passage of some note in history, are situated the towns of Carrara and Massa. Carrara, the “Quarry,” has replaced Luni as the place from whence the white marbles so highly esteemed by sculptors are exported, and choice blocks of which sometimes fetch £80 a cubic yard. No less than 720 quarries perforate the neighbouring hills, and about 300 of these are being worked now. The town may be likened to an agglomeration of sculptors’ studios, and its Academy has trained artists of high reputation. Massa enjoys a better climate than Carrara, but its marbles are less highly esteemed. As to the marbles of Serravezza, which are quarried in the Altissimo and other mountains of the Apuanic Alps near the town of Pietra Santa, they are in many instances as beautiful as those of Carrara. Michael Angelo highly appreciated them, and had a road constructed to facilitate access to them. The quarries and mines in the neighbourhood also yield slates, iron, lead, and silver.[84]

These towns at the foot of the Apuanic Alps were bound to prosper in proportion as the country increased in wealth, whilst Pisa, the great commercial republic of mediæval Tuscany, was doomed to decay, owing to the silting up of its harbour. This Porto Pisano was situated about ten miles to the south of what was then the mouth of the Arno. In 1442 its depth had been reduced to five feet, a century later only rowing boats could enter it, and soon after it was abandoned definitely. There are no traces of it now, and its very site is disputed. But though Pisa is dead—Pisa _morta_—the city still possesses admirable monuments of its past grandeur. It has a wonderful cathedral; an elegant baptistery; its Campo Santa, with the famous frescoes of Orgagna and Gozzoli; and a leaning tower commanding a view of the Pisan hills and the alluvial plains of the Arno and Serchio. Its commerce has dwindled away, but it is still the capital of a rich agricultural district, and its university is one of the best in Italy. It possesses, moreover, that which no change in the commercial highways can deprive it of, a mild climate, and during winter attracts numerous visitors from the north.

Leghorn, or Livorno, has inherited the commerce of Pisa. It is the natural outlet of the fertile districts of Tuscany, and its commerce is far more important than might be supposed from the unfavourable configuration of the coast, and is surpassed only by that of Genoa and Naples.[85] Thousands of Spanish and {255} Portuguese Jews who found a refuge here have contributed in no small measure to the development of the resources of the town. From an architectural point of view, Leghorn is one of the least interesting cities of Italy, but as the outcome of human labour it is one of the most curious. Before the city could be built, the swamps which occupied its site had to be drained, and an artificial harbour had to be excavated for the protection of vessels. Numerous canals intersect the north-western portion of the town, which is known as New Venice. A huge breakwater marks the entrance to the harbour, and on a sand-bank in the offing rises the tower of Meloria, which recalls the naval engagement in which the fleet of the Pisans was destroyed by the Genoese.

Scale 1 : 112,000]

Insular Tuscany consists of Elba and several smaller islands, which mark the site of an isthmus that formerly joined the mainland to Corsica, and contribute greatly towards the beauty of the Tuscan littoral.

Elba, once the miniature kingdom of Napoleon, is larger than all the other islands together.[86] An ancient dependency of the Etruscan city of Populonia, Elba rises above the blue waters of the Tyrrhenian a picturesque group of mountains. A narrow and dangerous strait separates its steep coasts from the promontory of Piombino, where passing vessels were formerly obliged to pay toll.

The granitic heights of Monte Capanne, the eastern extremity of the island, {256} attain an elevation of 3,303 feet; the dome-shaped hills of serpentine at the other extremity are 1,600 feet in height, and the centre of the island is occupied by hills of various formations, covered with brushwood. The variety of rocks is very great, taking into account the small extent of the island. Associated with the granites and serpentine, we meet with beds of kaolin, and with marble similar to that of Carrara. Remarkable crystals and precious stones abound to such an extent, that Elba has been likened to a “mineralogical cabinet” on a vast scale.

Formerly, when the sea was infested by pirates, the inhabitants retreated to the recesses of the interior, or to the summits of steep promontories, where the picturesque ruins of ancient fortifications may still be seen. Several of the old inland villages continue to be inhabited; amongst others, that of Capoliberi, the “Mountain of the Free,” which is looked upon as a sort of acropolis. After the suppression of piracy the islanders came down to the _marina_, or coast, and established themselves in the towns of Porto Ferrajo, Porto Longone, Marciana, and Rio. The resources of the island are considerable, and afford plenty of occupation to fishermen, salt-makers, wine-growers, and gardeners. The inhabitants are hospitable, and, though neighbours of the fierce Corsicans, they possess all the gentleness of Tuscans.

Elba is not, however, so much noted on account of its fisheries, vineyards, salt-works, or commerce, as because of its rich deposits of iron ore. The russet-coloured cliffs of ironstone are visible from the mainland. The huge excavations made by the miners, many of whom are convicts, resemble the craters of extinct volcanoes, and the reddish brown, violet, or blackish colour of the rocks helps the illusion. Of the quantity of ore carried away from here in the course of twenty-five or thirty centuries we can hardly form a conception. The ironstone is bedded in layers, differing in colour according to the nature of the earthy ingredients, and rising into hills 600 and more feet in height, the slopes of which are covered with brushwood (_macchie_). Shovels and spades are the only mining tools required in clearing away these heaps of ore, of which at least 100,000,000 tons remain. By regular mining operations 500,000 tons might be obtained annually during twenty centuries. The annual produce at present hardly exceeds 100,000 tons. The ore is more particularly suited to the manufacture of steel. Loadstones abound near Capo Calamita. The mariners of the Mediterranean formerly made use of them in the construction of a primitive ship’s compass, by placing them in a piece of cork, which they allowed to float in a basin of water.

The smaller islands of the Tuscan archipelago are—Giglio, with quarries of granite; Monte Cristo, a pyramidal rock rising 2,130 feet above the sea-level; Pianosa, with an agricultural penal settlement; Capraja, with a small town built within an amphitheatre of pink-coloured granite; and Gorgona (987 feet).[87] {257}

V.—THE ROMAN APENNINES, THE VALLEY OF THE TIBER, THE MARCHES, AND THE ABRUZZOS.

That portion of the Italian peninsula which has Rome for its centre may be likened to the trunk of the body, for it is there the Apennines attain their greatest height, and nowhere else to the south of the Po are rivers of equal magnitude met with.[88]

The main rampart of the Apennines runs parallel to the coast of the Adriatic. To the mariner, who sees these mountains rise above the verdure of the littoral region, they have an appearance of the greatest regularity. Summit rises beyond summit, one lateral chain succeeds to the other, and every one of the numerous valleys descends perpendicularly to the coast. The slope throughout is steep, and the geological strata, whether of Jurassic, cretaceous, or tertiary age, succeed each other regularly from the snow-clad summits down to the promontories of the coast. The only irregularity consists in a detached group of hills (1,880 feet) to the south of Ancona, above which the axis of the Apennines changes its direction. This region of Italy is the natural counterpart of Liguria. The position of Ancona corresponds with that of Genoa, and the coast, which extends on the one hand to Emilia, and on the other towards the peninsula of Monte Gargano, may fairly be likened to the “Rivieras” of Genoa, with this exception, that its direction is inverse. The territory between the mountains and the coast is narrow, the littoral road frequently winds round promontories, and the towns extend up the hill-sides. Still this portion of Italy is not as strongly protected by nature as Liguria. Towards the north it expands upon the plain of the Po, whilst the terraces at the foot of the main range of the Apennines afford easy access from the west. During the whole of the Middle Ages and down to our own days neighbouring states have fought for the possession of this territory, which has become known, from this circumstance, as the “Marches;” that is, the disputed frontier districts, where every town is a fortress perched on the top of a hill.

The Apennines forming the boundary between the Marches and Latium, or Rome, like those of Etruria, are grouped in separate mountain masses. The first of these commands the valley of the Tiber in the east; it extends in the north to Monte Comero (3,828 feet) and the Fumajolo, or head-stream of the Tiber, and in the south to Monte Verone (5,006 feet). Though inferior in height to other parts of the Apennines, these mountains are known as the _Alpe della Luna_. A gap, {258} through which passes the road from Perugia to Fano, separates them from Monte Catria (5,585 feet). At that point the Apennines bifurcate, and two parallel ranges can be traced thence for a distance of 120 miles, as far as the transverse range of the Majella (9,158 feet), which reunites them, and from which radiate the mountains of Southern Italy. These parallel chains belong to the Jurassic and cretaceous formations, and neither of them forms a water-parting, for whilst the Nera and other rivers tributary to the Tiber force themselves a passage through the western one, that on the east is broken by numerous gorges, through which rivers and torrents find their way into the Adriatic. The most considerable of these rivers is the Pescara, which rises on the plateau of the Abruzzos, where it is known as the Aterno, and traverses the eastern range where it is highest. The gorge excavated by this river is sufficiently wide to afford space for a railway joining the Adriatic to the basin of the Tiber.

The plateau of the Abruzzos, enclosed by these parallel ranges, may be looked upon as the natural citadel of Central Italy. On its western side rise the double pyramids of Monte Velino (8,157 feet); in the north Monte Vettore (8,131 feet) forms the termination of the range of the Sibillini; in the east rises the culminating point of the Apennines, a mountain covered with snow the greater part of the year, and appropriately called the “Great Rock of Italy”—“Gran Sasso d’Italia” (9,518 feet). The fact that this magnificent mountain is the highest in all Italy has been known from times immemorial. The Romans conceived they had discovered the “umbilic of Italy” in a small lake near it, upon which floated an island formed of rank vegetation. The Marsi and their allies, when they took up arms against their Roman oppressors, chose Corfinium, in its neighbourhood, for the seat of their empire, and surnamed it Italica; and there, too, the first movements which led to the resurrection of modern Italy took place. The Gran Sasso, as seen from the Adriatic, affords a magnificent spectacle. Its calcareous masses cannot boast of much beauty of profile, but this is compensated for by the fine Alpine region extending beneath its summit, which remains the haunt of bears and chamois, and where rare plants in the meadows remind us of Switzerland. Forests of beeches and pines are still met with in a few places, and are all the more appreciated as forests no longer exist in the lowland regions. This universal destruction of the forests is one of the great misfortunes of Italy. In many parts of the Roman Apennines even the soil has been washed away, and only in a few crevasses do we meet with brooms and briers.

The valleys on the western slope of the Apennines are enclosed between calcareous spurs of the main range, some of which attain a considerable elevation. The Tiber itself thus passes between two lofty mountains, rising at the lower extremity of two of these Sub-Apennine spurs, and forming a kind of triumphal gateway. These are the Soracte (2,270 feet) and Gennaro (4,162 feet). These fine mountains, with the Sabine Hills and the volcanic groups near them, form the horizon of the Roman Campagna, and their natural beauties are enhanced by the memories of art and history which attach to them.

Several ranges of hills and detached mountain groups of calcareous formation, {259} like the Sub-Apennines, border upon the shore of the Tyrrhenian Sea and the marshes which extend along it. Such are the hills, rich in alum, which are grouped around the ancient trachytic cone of the Tolfa. Such, too, are the Monte Lepini (4,845 feet), the naked crest of which has been likened to an ass’s back—_schiena d’asino_—and which bound the Pontine Marshes on the east. In some of the recesses of these hills there still exist forests of chestnut-trees and beeches, where the descendants of the ancient Volsci may pasture their hogs; but almost everywhere else the hill-sides are bare of vegetation, and the scorching rays of the sun have split the rocks into innumerable angular fragments. To the east of the marshes rises a summit with ten pinnacles, covered with dense shrub on the land side, but barren towards the sea, a few stunted palms excepted, which grow in the fissures of the rock. This isolated hill, a counterpart of the Argentaro of Tuscany, is the Circello (1,729 feet), famous as the residence of the enchantress Circe. The grotto where she changed human beings into animals is still pointed out there to the curious, and the remains of cyclopean walls recall the mythical age of the Odyssey. The ancient Greeks, who were but imperfectly acquainted with Italy, looked upon this dreaded promontory of Circe as one of the most important islands of the Western Cyclades.

During the glacial period the sea, in which have been deposited the chalk and other rocks composing the Sub-Apennines, was the scene of volcanic action on a grand scale. The matter ejected was heaped up in a line of volcanic cones, running in a direction nearly parallel with the Apennines and the coast of the Mediterranean. These cones are joined to each other by thick layers of tufa, which cover the whole of the plain as far as the foot of the calcareous mountains, and extend for a distance of nearly 120 miles, from Monte Amiata, in Tuscany, to the mountains of Albano, being interrupted only by the alluvial valley of the Tiber. Ponzi and other geologists are of opinion that this tufa was ejected from submarine volcanoes, carried away by the currents, and equally distributed over the depressions of the sea-bottom. No fossils have been discovered in it hitherto, which is accounted for by the presence of icebergs, which prevented a development of animal life.

This volcanic region is remarkable on account of its numerous lakes. The largest of these, that of Bolsena, was formerly looked upon as an ancient crater. This crater would have exceeded by far the largest volcanic vents met with in the Andes or in Java, for it has a circumference of twenty-five miles, and covers an area of forty-four square miles. Modern geologists, however, look upon this crateriform lake as a basin of erosion, and though it occupies the centre of a plateau formed of ashes, scoriæ, and lava, these do not form a steep edge towards the lake, as in the case of veritable craters in the same district. One of the most remarkable of these latter is that of Latera, to the west of the lake, in the centre of which rises a cone of eruption, the Monte Spignano, which has a diameter of nearly five miles.

The district of the Bolsena is likewise remarkable on account of its vertical precipices of tufa and lava. Its picturesque towns and villages are perched upon {260} bold promontories looking down on the valleys. The old town of Bagnorea occupies the extremity of an immense mole, and is joined to the new town by a giddy path, bounded by steep precipices, which timid travellers do not care to venture upon. Orvieto stands on an isolated rock resembling a fortress. Pittigliano is surrounded by precipices: by cutting away a few yards of the narrow isthmus which joins it to the rest of the plateau, access to it would be impossible to all but birds. In the Middle Ages, when nobles and towns were continually at war, the capture of one of these eyries was looked upon as a grand achievement.

Scale 1 : 457,000.]

Lake Bolsena discharges its surplus waters through the Marta into the Mediterranean. The fine Lake of Bracciano, to the south of it, gives rise to the Arrone. It, too, appears to be a basin formed by a subsidence of the ground or erosion, and not a crater. The Lake of Vico, on the other hand, clearly occupies an ancient volcano, though its rampart has been gutted towards the east. Close to the lake, and within the encircling rampart, rises Monte Venere, a perfect cone, the gentle slopes of which are luxuriantly wooded. Formerly the lake surrounded this cone, but the breach through which its emissary escapes to the Tiber having gradually been deepened, the waters of the lake subsided. Tradition says that an ancient city lies at its bottom.

On crossing the Tiber we reach the beautiful volcanic group of Albano, within the great crater of which may still be traced the remains of several secondary craters, some of them occupied by lakes. The principal one of these, Monte Cavo (2,790 feet), rises in the very centre of the exterior rampart. Tradition points it out as one of Hannibal’s camps. The exterior slopes of the mountain consist of pozzuolana, small stones, and ashes, through which the torrents have dug out furrows in divergent directions. The diversity of these {261} volcanic products enables us to trace the phases of activity of this Roman Vesuvius, which was active at a much more recent epoch than the volcanoes farther north, and sent its streams of lava to the very gates of Rome.

From the Austrian Staff Map. Scale 1 : 294,000.]

The Lake of Albano discharges its surplus waters through a tunnel 7,665 feet in length, which has been in existence for more than twenty-two centuries. The lake is famous on account of a small crab, large numbers of which are forwarded to Rome during Lent. It is the only species of this animal hitherto discovered in fresh water, and zoologists conclude from this that the crater now occupied by the lake formerly communicated with the sea, but was separated from it by slow upheavals and the ejection of volcanic products. Flint implements and vases of baked clay, discovered in the thick layers of volcanic peperino, prove that at the {262} period of the earliest eruptions the country was already inhabited by a civilised population. Some of the vases referred to are doubly precious, for they present us with delineations of the houses of that prehistoric epoch. Roman coins and clasps of bronze, discovered in the upper layers of lava, prove that these are comparatively recent. In fact, the most diverse developments of civilisation have left their traces in these ancient craters. Alba Longa and other towns of the Latins have been replaced by Roman cities; then came the castles of the popes, and of other high dignitaries of the Church; and at present these hills are one of the chief resorts of the crowds of strangers who flock to Rome from every quarter of the world. On the culminating point of Monte Cavo stood the famous temple of Jupiter Latialis, where the Latins celebrated their federal Feriæ. The last remains of this temple were swept away in 1783, to be used in the construction of a church. From its site the eye embraces a view extending to the hills of Sardinia.

The Lake of Nemi no longer reflects in its bluish waters the foliage of luxuriant trees, or the walls of that dreaded temple of Diana whose priest was only allowed to assume office after he had killed his predecessor in a duel. It, too, has its subterranean emissary, like the Lake of Albano. As to the Regillus, famed for the defeat of the Latins by the Romans, it has dried up, whilst the incrustating Lake of Tartari and that of the Solfatara, with its floating islands, are more shallow ponds, which owe their fame almost exclusively to the vicinity of Tivoli.

All these volcanic lakes are of considerable depths, whilst the lakes in the calcareous regions are shallow.[89] One amongst them, that of Fucino, has been drained recently, and the same fate is in store for that of Trasimeno. Lake Fucino originally occupied an area of 104 square miles, and its surplus waters discharged themselves towards the north-west into the Salto, a tributary of the Tiber. At an epoch not known to us the dimensions of the lake became less. It no longer discharged an effluent, but its waters rose and fell according to whether the seasons were wet or dry. Occasionally they rose as much as 50 feet, and two cities, Marruvium and Pinna, are said to have been swallowed up during one of these floods. At other times it was reduced to a swamp. The ancient Romans, desirous of suppressing a hotbed of fever, and of gaining fertile soil for agriculture, attempted to drain this lake. Claudius employed 30,000 slaves for eleven years in cutting a passage through the mountains from it to the Liri. This great work was carried on under the direction of the greedy Narcissus, but it turned out a failure, for after a short time the tunnel became choked. In the thirteenth century an attempt was made to reopen this tunnel, but the drainage of the lake has only been achieved quite recently, in accordance with plans designed by M. de Montricher, and carried out at the expense of Prince Torlonia. Between {263} 1855 and 1869 a new tunnel was excavated on the site of the ancient one, and nearly 150,000,000 cubic yards of water were conveyed through it into the Liri, and thence to the sea. The whole of the ancient lake bed has been converted into smiling fields, traversed in all directions by carriage roads; houses have been erected on spots formerly covered with water; fruit and ornamental trees have been planted; and the salubrity of the country leaves nothing to be desired now. Some idea of the progress made in the art of engineering since the time of the Romans may be formed by comparing this new tunnel with the old one. The latter was 18,500 feet in length, had an average section of 12 square yards, and cost (according to M. Rotrou) £9,840,000. The new tunnel has a length of 20,680 feet, a section of 24 square yards, and cost £1,200,000.

Scale 1 : 412,000.]

The Lake of Perugia, better known as the Lake of Trasimeno, on account of the terrible memories which attach to it, still retains nearly the dimensions which it had at the dawn of history. If this lake were to rise only a few feet, its surplus waters would find their way into the Tresa, a tributary of the Tiber; but its basin is shallow, and evaporation suffices for carrying off the water conveyed into it by its tributary rivulets. Amongst these is the famous Sanguinetto, on the banks of which the armies of Hannibal and Flaminius were engaged in battle, when,

“beneath the fray,
An earthquake reeled unheededly away.”