Chapter VIII: Rome to Loreto 180 (2)

On the morning of Thursday, November 24, we departed and found ourselves in a country fairly fertile, thickly peopled, and everywhere under tillage. The road was uneven and stony, and, after a very long journey, we arrived late at night at Siena, thirty-two miles, or four posts, which here they reckon of eight miles, somewhat longer than ours usually are. On the Friday we examined the place carefully, especially with respect to our own military operations therein.[60] The site of the city is very irregular, for it is built on the ridge of a hill, where most of the streets are to be found. Other thoroughfares lead down the slopes on either side by means of steps, some of these mounting the opposite hill to various levels. The city is about the same size as Florence, and one of the fairest of Italy, but not of the first order, its great antiquity being proclaimed by its aspect. Everywhere fountains are plentiful, but it is said that individual persons draw water privately from the conduits for their particular use. Here are to be found fine cool cellars. The Dome, which is scarcely inferior to that at Florence, is covered almost entirely within and without with marble of the place: square pieces, some a foot thick, some less, are used for panelling the same, for they always cover thus buildings of brick, the common building material of this land. The most beautiful portion of the city is the circular market-place, a fine expanse which slopes from all sides towards the palace, which in itself forms one of the segments of the circle, somewhat less curved than the rest. In front of the palace, and at the highest point of the market-place, is a very beautiful fountain, which discharges itself by several pipes, and fills a great basin where any one may take at will the purest water.[61] Several streets open into this place, the pavement being set in steps. In the town are many streets, certain of them being very ancient. The chief of these is the Piccolomini, then the Tolomei, the Colombini and the Cerretani.[62] We saw indications of an antiquity of three or four hundred years. The arms of the city, which are displayed on columns in several places, represent the she-wolf which gave suck to Romulus and Remus.

The Duke of Florence treats with courtesy the nobles who are in our interest, and keeps about his person Silvio Piccolomini, a gentleman who is better endowed than any other of our day in all sorts of science and in the practice of arms.[63] The duke being chiefly concerned in guarding himself from his own subjects, leaves to his various cities the duty of fortifying themselves, but keeps a hold on the citadels, which are provisioned and guarded with great outlay of money and labour, and with such watchful suspicion that few people are allowed to approach them. The women mostly wear bonnets, and we marked some who, by way of reverence, removed their headgear like the men at the moment of the elevation of the Host. We found lodging at the “Crown,”[64] which was fairly good, but we had no glass or even linen windows.

M. de Montaigne, when he was asked by the house-steward at Pratellino whether he was not amazed at the beauty of the place, replied, after certain words of praise, that he was greatly offended by the ill-seeming of the doors and windows, and of the great pinewood tables, without shape or ornament; with the rude and insecure locks, like those used in our villages, and with the roofs of hollow tiles. Moreover, he declared that, if it were found impossible to conceal these tiles by the use of slate or lead or brass, they might at least keep them out of sight by the arrangement of the building, and the steward said he would carry this counsel to his master.

The duke leaves unmolested the ancient marks and devices of the city, which everywhere echo the cry of “Liberty.” Again, as to the tombs and epitaphs of the French who died here, they have removed them to a remote corner of the town, under the pretence of some reconstruction and rebuilding of the church wherein they were placed. On Saturday the 26th, after dinner, we went twelve miles through a country resembling the last we traversed, and arrived in time for supper at Buonconvento, a Tuscan _Castello_, a word they apply to the walled villages which, from their smallness, do not merit the name of town. Early on Sunday morning we departed therefrom, and because M. de Montaigne desired to see Montalcino, on account of the associations of the French therewith, he turned off the road to the right and, with M. d’Estissac, M. de Mattecoulon, and M. du Hautoy, repaired to the town aforesaid, which they described as an ill-built place, about the size of Saint Emilion,[65] situated on the top of the highest mountain of the district, but still accessible. They heard High Mass which was being said there. At one end of the town is a castle garrisoned for the duke, but M. de Montaigne was of opinion that it was faulty as a stronghold, being commanded on one side by another mountain some hundred paces distant.

In the duke’s dominions the people hold the French in such great affection that the awakening of any memory of our country will almost certainly bring tears to their eyes. It would seem that they prefer even war, with some form of freedom, to the peace they enjoy under their tyrant. M. de Montaigne inquired whether there were not certain French tombs in the town,[66] and was informed that these formerly were in the church of S. Agostino, but that by the command of the duke the remains had been buried in the earth. Our road lay through a mountainous, stony country for twenty-three miles, and in the evening we came to La Paille, a little village of five or six houses, at the foot of sterile and forbidding mountains. Early next morning we resumed our journey, traversing a deep and very stony valley, and passing and repassing a hundred times a torrent which flowed through the same. At the limit of the duke’s territory we came to a fine bridge, built by Pope Gregory,[67] and entered the States of the Church, coming first to Acquapendente, a small town which, as I believe, takes its name from a torrent hard by which falls from the rocks down on to the plain. Then we passed a _Castello_, called S. Lorenzo, and another, Bolsena, and turning round the Lake of Bolsena, which is thirty miles long, ten wide, and has in its midst islands on which they say are monasteries, we went in one bout of twenty-six miles over a rocky and barren road to Montefiascone, a little town placed on the summit of one of the highest mountains in the country. It is very small, but shows signs of great antiquity. We quitted it next morning, and crossed a fine fertile plain, in which is situated Viterbo, part of the town being built on the crest of a hill. This is a fine place, about the size of Senlis, in which we observed many handsome houses, numerous workmen, fair pleasant streets, and three very beautiful fountains in divers parts of the town. On account of the beauty of the place M. de Montaigne would fain have tarried there, but his baggage mule, which he sent in advance, had already passed onward. Here we began the ascent of the flank of a high mountain, and at the end of the descent on the farther side we came upon the little Lake of Vico. Then, having traversed a delightful valley, bordered by gentle hills rich in wood--a commodity very rare in these parts--and by the lake aforesaid, we found ourselves in good time at Rossiglione,[68] after riding nineteen miles.

This is a small town, with a castle belonging to the Duke of Parma; indeed, along this road are to be found several mansions and estates belonging to the Farnese family. Lodging on this road is of the best, inasmuch as it is the great post road. They charge five giulios[69] for the hire of a horse, and two for the post, and they make the same terms if the horses are hired for two or three posts, or for several days, in which case the hirer has no trouble about the horses; for, from one place to another, the innkeepers take charge of those belonging to their neighbours, and, moreover, they will make a contract under which you may be supplied with a fresh horse elsewhere on the road in case one of your own should fail. At Siena we saw for ourselves how a man trusted a horse to a certain Fleming, who was travelling in company with us, alone, unknown, and a stranger to the owner of the horse, simply on the condition that the horse hire should be paid before starting. In every other respect the horse is at your disposal, under your promise that you will leave him where you have agreed. M. de Montaigne, adapting himself, as was his wont, to the custom of the country, fell into the way of dining early and supping late, for in the good houses the dinner is only served at noon, and the supper at nine o’clock; for instance, in these places where we found playhouses the acting began by torchlight at six, and lasted two or three hours; then we returned to sup. M. de Montaigne would remark that this was a good country for lazy folk, seeing the hour of rising was so late.

On the morrow we set forth three hours before daybreak, so keenly was M. de Montaigne set on seeing the Roman plain by day. He found the cold air of morning as hurtful to his stomach as that of the evening,[70] and was ill at ease till sunrise, though the night was fine. After the fifteenth milestone we caught sight of the city of Rome: then we lost it for some long time. On the road we passed several villages and inns. We came upon some portions of road, elevated and paved with large stones, having about them a certain look of antiquity; and nearer to the city we remarked some masonry, evidently of great age, and stones which the Popes had caused to be reinstated on account of their antiquarian interest. The greater part of the ruins--the baths of Diocletian, for instance--are of bricks, small and plain like those we use, and not of the size and thickness of those we see in the ancient ruins of France and elsewhere. On our road the city did not show itself very plainly. Far on the left hand were the Apennines, the aspect of the country being unpleasing, rugged, full of deep clefts, and unfitted for the passage of troops or ordnance. All the land is treeless, and a good part of it sterile, and lying open for ten miles and more, the houses being very sparse, as in all countries of this sort. Travelling thus we went thirty miles, and arrived on the last day of November--Saint Andrew’s day--at the Porta del Popolo of Rome.

VII

ROME

Here they raised difficulties as in other places concerning the plague raging at Genoa. We went to lodge at the “Bear,”[71] and stayed there the following day also, and on the 2nd of December we hired apartments in the house of a Spaniard in front of Santa Lucia della Tinta.[72] We were well accommodated in three fine chambers, a living room, a larder, a stable, and a kitchen, for twenty crowns a month, the host finding in addition a cook and fire in the kitchen. Here the apartments are as a rule furnished somewhat better than in Paris, inasmuch as they use much gilded leather in the upholstering of all houses of consideration. We might have had lodging at the “Vaso d’Oro” hard by at the same price, furnished with silk and cloth of gold such as kings use, but M. de Montaigne objected, first because the chambers had no separate entrances, and next because the magnificence of this furniture was not only useless in itself, but liable to give great trouble in keeping it from hurt, each bed being of the value of four or five hundred crowns. At our lodging we made a bargain for a supply of linen, as we should have done in France, but of this, as is the way of the country, they were somewhat sparing.

_From Piranesi’s Views of Rome_

_To face p. 74_, vol. ii.
]

M. de Montaigne was annoyed to find such great number of Frenchmen in Rome,[73] so great that almost every person he met in the streets addressed him in his own tongue. He found novelty in the sight of so mighty a court, thronged with prelates and churchmen, and declared that Rome was far fuller of rich men and coaches and horses than any other city he had ever seen, and that the seeming of the streets in various ways, and notably in the crowds of people, reminded him more of Paris than of any other place. The present city is placed along either bank of the Tiber. The hilly quarter, where the ancient city stood, and whither M. de Montaigne went every day to walk and to survey the site, is now divided between certain churches, and rich houses and gardens belonging to the cardinals. He found clear evidence to show that the configuration and slopes of the hills had altogether changed since ancient times. He judged from the height of the ruins, and was fully assured that in certain places we were walking over the roof-ridges of houses still intact; indeed it is easy to see by the state of the Arch of Severus that we now stand more than two pikes’ length above the ancient level, and that we walk on the tops of the old walls, which the rains and the coach wheels occasionally bring into sight.

M. de Montaigne would not admit that liberty existed in Rome equal to that enjoyed in Venice, and would advance by way of arguments the facts that houses were so insecure against robbers that people who might bring home with them a large amount of property usually determined to give their purses in charge of the bankers of the city so as not to find their strong boxes rifled, which mishap had befallen many; that it was by no means safe to walk abroad by night; that in this month of December the General of the Cordeliers had been suddenly deprived of his office and imprisoned because in his preaching, at which were present the Pope and the cardinals, he had censured the sloth and luxury of the prelates of the Church, and this without mentioning names and simply using commonplace remarks on the subject with a certain harshness of voice; that his own boxes had been searched by the tax-officers on entering the city and turned over even to the smallest articles of apparel, while in the other towns of Italy the officers had been satisfied by the presentation of the boxes for search; that in addition they had seized all the books they found there with the view of inspecting them, over which task they spent so much time that any one in different case might well have given up the books as lost. Again the regulations were so extraordinary that one of these books, the “Hours of our Lady,” having been printed at Paris and not in Rome, was looked at with suspicion, as were certain books against heretics by German doctors who, in argument, happened to make mention of the errors of their opponents. At this juncture he congratulated himself over his good fortune in that, having no premonition of the search which awaited him, and having passed through Germany where forbidden books abound, he had not brought away with him a single one of these, notwithstanding the curious interest which often possessed him with regard to divers of them. Certain gentlemen from Germany informed him that had any such volume been found, he would have paid the penalty by losing all his books.

On Christmas Day we went to hear the Papal Mass at St. Peter’s, M. de Montaigne being accommodated with a seat from which he could behold at his ease all the ceremonial. They used certain particular forms; to wit, they read the Gospel and the Epistle first in Latin and then in Greek, a custom followed also on Easter Day, and on the feast of St. Peter. The Pope himself[74] let divers others communicate, and with him officiated the Cardinals Farnese,[75] Medici,[76] Caraffa,[77] and Gonzaga. In taking the cup they use a certain instrument to prevent danger of poison.[78] It seemed strange to M. de Montaigne that, at this mass and at others beside, the Pope and cardinals and other prelates kept seated with heads covered and talked together the while. The whole ceremony indeed was marked by splendour rather than by devotion. Touching the beauty of the Roman ladies, M. de Montaigne affirmed that this was not notable enough to raise the reputation of this city beyond all others; moreover that, as in Paris, the most remarkable beauty belonged to those who made a market of the same.

On December 29th M. d’Abein,[79] our ambassador, a learned gentleman and a longstanding friend of M. de Montaigne, advised him to go and kiss the feet of the Pope. M. de Montaigne and M. d’Estissac went in the coach of the ambassador, who, after he had been granted an audience, caused them to be called by the Pope’s chamberlain. According to custom, only the ambassador was with the Pope, who had by his side a bell which he would ring when he might wish any one to be introduced. The ambassador was seated, uncovered, at his left hand; the Pope himself never uncovers before any one, nor can any ambassador remain covered in his presence. M. d’Estissac entered first, then M. de Montaigne, then M. de Mattecoulon, and last M. d’Hautoy. After taking a step or two into the chamber, in a corner of which sits the Pope, the incomer, whoever he may be, kneels and waits for the Pope to give him benediction. This done, he will rise and advance to the middle of the room, but a stranger rarely approaches the Pope by going direct across the floor, the more ordinary practice being to turn to the left on entering, and then, after making a détour along the wall, to approach his chair. But when the stranger has gone half the distance he must kneel again on one knee, and, having received a second benediction, next advances as far as the thick carpet spread out some seven or eight feet in front of the Pope. Here he must kneel on both knees, while the ambassador who presents him kneels on one, and moves back the Pope’s robe from his right foot, which is shod in a red shoe with a white cross thereupon. The kneeling stranger must keep himself in the same posture until he is close to the Pope’s foot, and then bend down to kiss it. M. de Montaigne declared that the Pope raised the point of his foot a little. They all kissed it one after the other, making room for each other after the ceremony was done. Then the ambassador covered the Pope’s foot, and, having risen to his seat, said what seemed necessary on behalf of M. d’Estissac and M. de Montaigne. The Pope, with courteous expression of face, admonished M. d’Estissac to cultivate learning and virtue, and M. de Montaigne to maintain the devotion he had always exhibited towards the Church and the interests of the most Christian King: whatever service he could do them they might depend on, this being an Italian figure of speech. They said nothing, but, having been blessed again before rising as a sign of dismissal, they went back in the same order. Each one retreats as it seems best, but the ordinary custom is to go backward, or at least sideways, so as always to look the Pope in the face. As in entering, each one kneels half-way on one knee for another benediction, and again at the door for the last.

The Pope in speaking Italian betrays his Bolognese descent, the idiom of this city being the worst in Italy; and besides this, his speech is halting by nature. In other respects he is a very fine old man, of medium height, and upright, with a face full of majesty, and a long white beard. His age is over eighty, and for his years he is the most healthy and vigorous man possible, troubled neither with gout nor colic nor stomach complaints nor oppression of any kind. By nature he is kind, caring little about affairs of state, a great builder, and in the last-named capacity he will leave a memory highly honoured in Rome and elsewhere. In almsgiving he is somewhat excessive. Amongst other proofs of this, [it may be recorded that he is wont to help any girl of the lower orders in furnishing her home on her marriage, and report says that he shows the same liberality in ready money.][80] Besides this, he has built colleges for the Greeks, the English, the Scots, the French, the Germans, and the Poles, endowing each one with a perpetual revenue of ten thousand crowns, over and beyond the vast cost of building. This he has done to bring back to the Church the sons of the nations aforesaid, who were corrupted by evil opinions hostile to her. There the pupils are lodged, fed, clothed, and taught, and provided with everything without the expense of a single quattrino of their own on any account. Vexatious public duties he readily lets fall on the backs of others, and shrinks from troubling himself therewith. He gives as many audiences as are demanded. His replies are brief and decisive, and it is loss of time to oppose them by fresh reasoning. Nothing will move him from a decision which he believes to be a just one; and even for his own son,[81] whom he loves passionately, he will not stir a finger against his idea of justice.[82] He gives advancement to his relatives, but without trenching upon the rights of the Church, which he preserves intact. He has done magnificent work in public buildings and in remodelling the streets of the city. In sooth, it may be said that his life and doings call for no special remark, neither in one nor in the other respect, but that his leaning is strongly towards good.

On the last day of December these two[83] dined with M. le Cardinal de Sens, who is more strict in his observance of Roman ceremonies than any other Frenchman. The _Benedicite_ and the graces were very long, and were said by two chaplains, who responded one to the other as if they were saying the office in church, and during the repast a paraphrase in Italian of the gospel of the day was read. Both before and after dinner they all washed their hands, and to each one a napkin was served for use at table. Before the guests who sat beside or facing the host--as a mark of special honour--they placed the large silver trays with salt cellars, made like those which are put before guests of worship in France. Upon these trays was a napkin folded in four, and on the napkin was laid bread, a knife, a fork, and a spoon, and over all another napkin for use at table, the one first-named being left undisturbed. After the guests had seated themselves another plate of silver or earthenware would be placed beside the silver tray aforesaid, and this the guest would use during the repast. The carver gives a portion of whatever is served at table to all those seated, who never touch the dishes with their hands. Moreover, the dish set before the host is rarely shared by any of the guests.

To M. de Montaigne they served drink as they usually served it at the ambassador’s house whenever he dined there; that is, they brought him a silver basin in which was a glass with wine, and a little bottle about the size of those used for ink full of water. He took the glass in his right hand, and in his left the bottle, from which he poured as much water as he desired into the glass, and then replaced the bottle in the basin. When he drank the servant who waited on him held the basin below his chin, and afterwards replaced the glass in the basin aforesaid, such ceremony being observed only in the case of one or two sitting near the host. After the grace the table broke up at once, and the chairs were arranged along one side of the hall, where M. le Cardinal made them sit after he had seated himself. Two churchmen, finely clad, and bearing in their hands certain instruments of a kind I had never seen before, now appeared; and, having knelt down, they recited a church service of some kind or other. The cardinal said nothing to them, but as they rose to depart, after having finished their service, he slightly moved his cap. A short time afterwards he took his guests in his coach to the Consistory Hall, where the cardinals were assembled for vespers. The Pope came also, and robed himself there to attend the service; the cardinals did not kneel at his benediction, as the people did, but acknowledged it with a profound inclination of the head.

On January 3rd, 1581, the Pope passed beneath our windows, and before him went some two hundred horses belonging to personages of the court, of one robe or the other. Close beside him was the Cardinal dei Medici, who conversed with him covered, and took him to his house to dinner. The Pope wore a red hat, a white garment, and a red velvet cowl, as is the habit. He was mounted on a white hackney, harnessed with red velvet, and with fringe and lace of gold. Though he was nearly eighty-one, he mounted without any aid, and every fifteen paces or so he gave his benediction. After him came three cardinals, and then some hundred men-at-arms, each with lance on thigh, and fully armoured save the head. They had in readiness also another hackney with like equipment, a mule, a handsome white courser, and a litter. Also two robe-bearers with valises at their saddle-bows.

On January 11th, in the morning, as M. de Montaigne was leaving the house on horseback to go to the bank, he met Catena,[84] a famous robber and banditti chief, whom they were taking away from the prison. This man had raised a panic all through Italy, monstrous tales of murder being told about him; notably concerning two Capuchins, whom he forced to deny God, and promised to spare their lives on this condition. But he slew them afterwards without any motive either of gain or of vengeance. M. de Montaigne halted to behold the spectacle. Over and beyond the escort customary in France, they let precede the criminal a huge crucifix draped with black, at the foot of which went a great crowd of men wearing cloaks and masks of cloth, and these were said to be of the chief gentlefolk of Rome, a confraternity sworn to accompany criminals to execution and corpses to the grave. Two of these--or two monks in similar garb--helped the condemned man into the cart and preached to him, one of them letting him kiss continually a picture of our Lord. This they did so that those in the street might not see the man’s face. At the gibbet, which was a beam upon two posts, they held this picture before his face till he was thrown off the ladder. He died as criminals commonly do, without movement or cry; a dark man of thirty or thereabout, and after he was strangled they cut his body in four quarters. It is the custom amongst these people to kill criminals without torture, and after death to subject the body to very barbarous usage. M. de Montaigne remarked that he had written elsewhere how deeply people are moved by the cruelties practised upon dead bodies,[85] and on this occasion the crowd, who had not felt any pity at the hanging, cried out in lamentation at every stroke of the axe. As soon as he was dead divers Jesuits or other churchmen went up to a high place and cried to the people on all sides that they should take to heart this example.

We remarked in Italy, and especially in Rome, that very few of the churches have clocks, there being fewer in Rome than in the meanest French village. Also very few images are to be seen, save those made recently, several ancient churches being quite bare thereof. On January 14th M. de Montaigne saw the execution of two brothers, formerly servants of the Castellan’s secretary, who some days ago slew their master by night in the palace of Signor Jacomo Buoncompagno, the Pope’s son. Their flesh was torn with pincers and their hands cut off, in front of the aforesaid palace, and after this mutilation they put over the wounds the bodies of capons which they had killed and cut open just before.[86] This execution took place on a scaffold, where the criminals were first knocked down with heavy wooden clubs, and then their throats were cut; it is, so the report goes, a form of punishment used in Rome from time to time, but some held that it had been specially appointed for this misdeed, for that the criminals had killed their master in like manner.

As to the bigness of Rome, M. de Montaigne declared that the space which the walls enclose, more than a third thereof being void, and the site of old and new Rome as well, would equal an enclosure made round Paris to take in all the faubourgs. But, reckoning the bulk of the two cities by the number and closeness of the houses and inhabitants, he deemed that Rome would fall short of Paris by one-third. In number and grandeur of public places, and in beauty of streets and palaces, Rome seemed far superior.

He found the cold of winter little less bitter than that of Gascony. About Christmas there were sharp frosts and the wind was intolerably cold; and after that it frequently thundered, hailed, and lightened. In the palaces the suites of apartments are large, one room after the other, and you may have to pass through three or four rooms before you come to the chief saloon. In certain houses where M. de Montaigne dined in ceremony the buffet was not set in the dining-room, but in one adjoining, whither the servants would go to fetch drink for whomsoever might call for it; there too was displayed the silver plate.

_From Piranesi’s Views of Rome_

_To face p. 94_, vol. ii.
]

On Thursday, January 26th, M. de Montaigne went to see the Janiculum Hill beyond the Tiber and the curiosities of that part; amongst others a great fall of masonry from the old walls which had happened a few days before, and the view of the whole of Rome, which can be surveyed more clearly from this spot than from any other. Thence he went down to the Vatican to inspect the statues set in the niches of the Belvedere, and the fine gallery,[87] now almost completed, which the Pope is adorning with paintings of all parts of Italy. He lost his purse and all therein, and deemed this must have happened while he was giving alms--as he did twice or thrice; the weather was very rainy and unpleasant, and, instead of returning his purse to his pocket, he must have thrust it into the slashing of his hose. At this time he diverted himself entirely in studying Rome. He had at first engaged a Frenchman as guide, but this fellow took himself off in some ridiculous humour, whereupon M. de Montaigne prided himself on mastering by his own efforts the art of a guide. In the evening he would study certain books and maps, and next day repair to the spot and put in practice his apprenticeship, so that in a few days he could have shown his guide the way.

M. de Montaigne affirmed that he could now see nothing more of Rome than the sky under which it lay and the area of its site; that all the knowledge he possessed thereof was of an abstract and contemplative nature, a knowledge in no way to be apprehended by the operation of the senses; that those who affirmed that they might at least behold the ruins of Rome, affirmed too much. The ruins of a mechanism of such terrible power suggested to his own mind reverence and respect rather than comprehension. What he saw was nought but a sepulchre. The world, resentful at her long domination, first broke and shattered all the portions of this marvellous whole, and then, horror-stricken at this spectacle of death, ruin, and disfigurement, entombed the ruins themselves. As to these minor indications of her overthrow which yet lie upon her bier, they have been preserved by fate as a testimony to that immeasurable greatness which all these centuries, all these conflagrations, all these repeated alliances of the powers of the world, have failed to destroy entirely. But it was almost certain that these defaced fragments which survived were those of the least merit, for the rage of the enemies of this immortal renown would surely have prompted them to destroy in the first instance all that was most lovely and most noble. He declared that the buildings of this bastard Rome, which were now being joined on to the ancient masonry (what though they sufficed to kindle the admiration of the present age), reminded him exactly of the nests the martins and crows were building in the roofs and on the walls of the French churches which the Huguenots had destroyed.[88]

_From Piranesi’s Views of Rome_

_To face p. 98_, vol. ii.
]

Again M. de Montaigne was persuaded, considering the space occupied by this vast tomb, that the present age failed to realise its full extent, and that the greater part of the sepulchre itself must be buried. As to this, one has only to consider the base off-cast of a great city; how out of the fragments of broken tiles and pots from ancient days, a mound has been heaped together of so vast a size that it equals in height and breadth several natural mountains (he compared this mound as to height with the hill of Gurson, and judged it to be double the width).[89] It seemed to represent an express decree of the Fates to make plain to the world how they had conspired to render this city glorious and paramount; to bear witness to its grandeur by so strange and extraordinary a token. He declared it was hard to understand--considering how narrow was the space occupied by some of the hills, and notably by the most famous, the Capitol and the Palatine--how such a large number of buildings could be there bestowed. Looking only at the remains of the Temple of Peace by the side of the _Forum Romanum_ (of which one may still behold the recent ruin, like that of a vast mountain broken up into divers ugly crags), it was apparent that two such edifices could hardly have found room on the entire summit of the Capitol, where there were twenty-five or thirty temples, besides several private houses. But in sooth the various conjectures which have been adopted for the delineation of this ancient city possess scarcely any verisimilitude, seeing that the very site thereof has changed its contour beyond measure, and that certain of its valleys have been filled up. To wit, in the lowest-lying spots, as, for instance, in the Velabrum, which, on account of its situation, received the sewage of the city, and had a lake in its midst, there is now to be found a hill as high as the other natural hills adjacent thereto.[90] All this has come about by the accumulation of the ruins and fragments of the huge buildings, the Monte Savello being nought else than a portion of the theatre of Marcellus. M. de Montaigne did not deem that an ancient Roman would recognise the site of his city were he to behold it.

_From Piranesi’s Views of Rome_

_To face p. 98_, vol. ii.
]

It would often happen to one digging deep in the earth to come upon the capital of a lofty column which still stood on its base far below; and builders were wont to seek for their erections no other foundations than some mass of ancient masonry, or on arches such as are commonly seen in cellars, or on some old wall or substructure existing on the site. And upon the very wrecks of the ancient buildings, as they fall to ruin, the builders set out casually the foundations of new houses, as if these fragments were great masses of rock, firm and trustworthy. It is evident that many of the old streets lie more than thirty feet below the level of those now in existence.

On January 28th M. de Montaigne had colic, which, however, did not interfere with his customary movements, and passed one rather large stone and some small ones. On the 30th he witnessed the most ancient religious ceremony that still subsists amongst men--to wit, the circumcision of the Jews--and gave most attentive and profitable attention thereto. He had already visited their synagogue one Saturday morning, and heard their prayers, when they sang in irregular wise certain portions of the Hebrew Bible suited to the occasion, after the manner of the Calvinist churches. They are cadences of similar sound, but the discord is excessive by reason of the mixing together of voices of all ages, for even the youngest children are of the party, and all understand Hebrew but indifferently. They are no more attentive to their prayers than we are, for they talk of other things during their service, and exhibit little reverence for their mysteries. At the entrance they wash their hands, and inside they count it a curse to remove their headgear, but they do reverence, as their worship ordains, by bowing and kneeling. On the shoulders or on the head they wear certain pieces of linen decked with fringe; but to describe these details would take too much time. After dinner their doctors give instruction by turns upon the passage of the Bible for the day, speaking in Italian, and next an assistant doctor selects one of the hearers, or sometimes two or three in succession, to hold argument with the one who has been teaching upon the subject of his discourse. It seemed to M. de Montaigne that the man we heard displayed great eloquence and mental power in arguing his case.

But as to the circumcision itself, this ceremony takes place in the private house, the lightest and most convenient chamber thereof being chosen for the purpose. In this particular case, because the dwelling itself was ill suited therefor, the ceremony took place in the lobby by the door. As with us a godfather and a godmother are provided for the child, whom the father names, and the circumcision is performed the eighth day after birth. The godfather seats himself on a table with a pillow on his lap, and the godmother brings to him the child and then withdraws, the child being swaddled after our own fashion. The godfather then loosens the bandages below, and the assistants and the one whose duty it is to perform the operation all begin a chant and continue to sing during the operation, which takes about a quarter of an hour. He who officiates need not be a rabbi, and any one of them, whoever he may be, will be anxious to discharge this duty, because they hold that frequent bidding to such a function is a great blessing: nay, they will pay to be called in, offering here a vestment and there something else useful to the child. Moreover, they believe that any one who may circumcise a particular number of children will enjoy a certain privilege after death, to wit, that the parts about the mouth will never be eaten by worms. On the table where the godfather sits they forthwith lay out plentiful provision of all instruments necessary for this operation, and in addition to these an assistant holds in his hands a phial of wine and a glass. There is also an earthen brazier, at which the operator first warms his hands; and then the child, with the swaddling bands unloosed, is presented to him by the godfather, who holds it in his lap with the head towards himself. The operator then takes hold of the part and pulls forward the skin thereof with one hand and with the other thrusts back the fleshy substance and fixes a silver instrument on the skin. This instrument, kept close to the flesh within, holds the foreskin in proper position and prevents any injury to the other parts from the act of cutting. This done, he cuts off the skin and buries it at once in some earth, which along with other apparatus of the mystery is beside him, ready prepared in a basin, and then with his bare nails proceeds to remove any other particle of skin which may be left on the flesh. This operation is one requiring considerable skill and is somewhat painful, but it is quite free from danger and the wound is almost always healed after four or five days. The children cry as ours cry when they are baptized. As soon as the operation is done, the bystanders hand forthwith to the operator some wine, who, after having taken some of it into his mouth, sucks the bleeding flesh and then empties his mouth, repeating this act thrice. Then they give him in a wrap of paper red powder, which they call dragon’s blood, and with this he dresses and covers the wound, and then binds up the same neatly with linen cut for the purpose. He is offered a glass full of wine which, according to report, he blesses by the words he speaks over it, and then drinks a mouthful. He next dips his finger in it and thrice lets the child suck some drops of wine therefrom. This glass they send as it is to the mother and the women of the family who are in some other part of the house, that they may finish the wine that remains. Then another, a third person, takes a silver instrument, made round like a tennis ball, with a long handle thereto, and pierced with little holes like our perfume boxes, and holds it first to the nose of the operator, next to the child, and last to the godfather. They believe that the odours therein help to strengthen and purify the soul for devotion. The operator meantime bears the stains of blood on his mouth.

On the 8th and on to the 12th M. de Montaigne had symptoms of colic and passed some stones, but without any great pain. This year, by the Pope’s permission, greater liberty was given for the Carnival festivities than for many years past, but even now we found them of little account. Along the Corso, a long street of the city which gets its name on this account, they start a race, now of children, now of Jews,[91] and now of old men naked, who ran from one end of the street to the other; but the onlooker sees nothing of the sport, save when they run past where he may be posted. There are also races of horses, ridden by young boys, who urge them on with whips, and of asses and buffaloes driven along by the goads of horsemen in the rear. In all the races a prize is offered, called _el palo_ which is given in the form of pieces of velvet or cloth. In a certain part of the street where the ladies can best see them certain nobles run the quintain, mounted on fine horses, and make a graceful show, for the nobility of this country commonly show greater knowledge of horsemanship than of aught else. The scaffold which M. de Montaigne caused to be erected cost three crowns, and was placed in an excellent situation in the street.

At this season all the fair gentlewomen of Rome let themselves be seen freely, for in Italy they do not go masked as in France, but with all the face uncovered. As to anything like rare and perfect beauty, M. de Montaigne declared it was no more to be found here than in France; and that, except in three or four cases, he found none that was remarkable. But taken as a whole the women’s faces are more agreeable, and fewer ugly ones are to be seen than in France. The head is far more becomingly dressed than with us, and the parts below the girdle also, but the French ladies have more care to the figure, for here the girdle is worn too loose, somewhat as our ladies who are with child wear it. Their countenances are stately, gentle, and sweet. In raiment they are incomparably more sumptuous than our ladies, everything being covered with pearls and jewels. Whenever they go abroad, whether in a coach or to a festivity or to the theatre, they keep apart from men: nevertheless in certain dances they mix freely enough, and find full opportunity of conversing and touching hands. The men on all occasions go clad very simply in black or Florentine serge, and are somewhat darker in skin than we are. I cannot say why they do not use their titles of duke, count, and marquis, when they have full right thereto, seeing that their appearance is somewhat ordinary. Otherwise they are most courteous, and as gracious as they can be, in spite of what is asserted by the baser sort of Frenchmen, who never find any gentility in those who resent their turbulence and insolent carriage. In every way we do our utmost to win a bad name, nevertheless the Italians nurse their ancient affection and reverence for France, which secures respect and welcome for all who deserve the same ever so little, and bear themselves without offence.

On the following Thursday he went to a feast given by the Castellan for which vast preparation had been made, notably an amphitheatre very artistically and sumptuously disposed for the sport of tilting, the courses being run in the evening before supper. The amphitheatre was erected in a square barn, a section, oval in form, having been set out in the centre for the purpose. Amongst other curious devices the floor was painted with the utmost despatch with certain designs in red. This floor had previously been covered with plaster, then they laid thereupon a piece of parchment or leather with designs according to their taste cut out of the same, and lastly they painted this with a brush dipped in red paint so as to leave on the plaster under the openings the design they wished for. So rapid was their work that they might easily have decorated the nave of a church in two hours. At supper the ladies were served by their husbands, who stood by them and gave them to drink and whatever they might ask for. On the table were many roast fowls, their plumage having been restored to them to give them the look of living birds, capons cooked whole in vessels of glass, good store of hares, rabbits, and birds in pies with feathers as if alive, and the tables admirably laid with linen. The ladies’ table, which was laid for four courses, could be removed in portions, and below the first service was a second one of sweetmeats ready prepared.

They use no masks for visiting one another, but they wear them, of a very cheap sort, when they walk about the town in public or go to meetings for running at the ring. On Carnival Monday two rich and well-appointed companies of gentlemen met for the sport aforesaid with a wealth of superb horses such as we cannot equal.

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Having given leave of absence to the one of my followers who has up to this time written this journal in admirable fashion, I feel that, albeit it may irk me somewhat, I must needs continue the work with my own hand, seeing that it is so far advanced.

On February 16th, as I was returning from service, I saw in a small chapel a priest, fully robed, engaged in healing a man possessed, who was melancholic and apparently in a trance. They kept him kneeling before the altar, his neck being bound with some sort of cloth by which they held him fast. The priest recited in his presence many prayers and exorcisms out of his breviary, charging the devil to quit the body of this man;[92] then he addressed his discourse to the patient, speaking sometimes to the man himself and sometimes to the devil in his body, railing at him, dealing the poor wretch heavy blows with his fist, and spitting in his face. To these commands the patient made divers meaningless replies: now for himself, telling how he was affected by the operation of his malady; now for the devil, acknowledging his fear of God and the powerful working of these exorcisms against him. After this performance, which lasted some time, the priest, by way of preparation for the final attack, withdrew to the altar and took in his left hand the pyx which held the _Corpus Domini_, and in his right a lighted candle, which he held upside down so that it might melt and consume away, saying certain prayers the while, and ending with threatenings and denunciations against the devil, uttered in the loudest and most authoritative voice he could put forth. As soon as the first candle had burnt itself out close to his fingers, he took a second and then a third. He next put back the transparent vessel containing the _Corpus Domini_, and returned to the patient, speaking to him as to an ordinary man and releasing him from his bonds. He then delivered the patient over to his friends, and directed them to take him home.

The priest assured us that this devil was of the most noxious sort and very obstinate, and that his expulsion would prove a difficult task; moreover, he recounted to ten or twelve gentlemen who were present divers histories concerning this science of exorcism and his common experience thereof, notably how the day before he had cast out of a certain woman a great devil, who in leaving her had caused her to vomit from her mouth nails and pins and a bit of his hairy skin. And when her friends told him that she was not yet quite herself, he replied that this was because of another sort of spirit, easier to deal with and less malicious, who had taken possession of her this same morning. This kind (for he knew the names and the divisions and the minutest differences) was very easy to exorcise. But I saw no further proof of his skill. The man who had been under treatment gave no other facial sign than grinding his teeth and twisting his mouth when the _Corpus Domini_ was put before him; he muttered, indeed, several times the words _Si fata volent_, for he was a notary and knew a word or two of Latin.

On the first day of March I went to the service at the Sistine Chapel. At the high altar the priest who said mass stood beyond the altar with his face turned towards the people, no one being behind him. On this occasion the Pope was present, for he had some days before excluded therefrom the nuns who had hitherto been wont to be present, so as to make more room. In their place he installed, by a most excellent regulation, the poor folk who beg about the city. Each one of the cardinals gave twenty crowns in aid of the movement, and very liberal alms were given by other private persons. To their hospital the Pope has given five hundred crowns a month.