LETTER LXXXI. EXCURSION TO THE BATHS OF LUCCA-PISTOIA-PESCIA-VALE OF THE SERCHIO-ARRIVAL AT THE BATHS-SCORPIONS SKETCH OF SCENERY -HOT SPRINGS-BUONVISI-COUNT DEMIDOFF-THEATRE-BALLS- CASINO-CORSO-PONTE SERRAGLIO. August, 1826. AT 6 o'clock on the evening of the 4th, we set out on an excursion to the Baths of Lucca, in company with the American Consul. My fellow-boarder from New-York was of the party. Passing down the right bank of the Arno, through the Cascine, we were soon in the midst of one of the most fertile and luxuriant regions I ever beheld. The vale is literally and emphatically buried in verdure, forming a mass so thick and tangled, as to appear wholly impervious. Mulberries and other trees, matted with vines, formed the principal growth; and to these were added a thousand accessories, consisting of every species of vegetation. The late copious showers and warm suns had given vigour and a vivid tinge to the foliage. Nothing can surpass the richness of this district; and the beauty, neatness, and industry of the peasantry are in harmony with the charms of the country. We saw numerous groups of them, sitting before the doors of their houses, in the villages along the road, or in some cases, in the open fields, busy at their work of braiding straw. They lead a most laborious life, subsisting on light fare, and toiling hard. The traveller cannot but feel a degree of indignation, that so large a portion of their little earnings should be absorbed by the extravagance of the government, or go to support those harpies of Italy, a voracious priesthood. A bright sunset spread its glow over the chain of hills upon our right, and the softness of twilight was delicious. At dusk we passed one of the seven or eight country residences, belonging to the Grand Duke of Tuscany. The exterior is stately. It is said to contain some good pictures In its halls, one of the Medici was poisoned at the instigation of a Cardinal. Several canals cross the vale of the Arno in this vicinity. At 10 o'clock we reached Pistoia, and walked about to look at the ancient city. It is famous for the defeat of Cataline's army, by the forces of the Republic. Its walls and gates are lofty and substantial. One of the streets is spacious. The greatest show I saw was a profusion of fine water-melons, with red paper lanterns so contrived, as to give their core a ruddier hue. A scorpion was killed in my presence, upon the pavement-the first I had ever seen, though by no means the last, as the sequel will show. It is a black odious looking animal, several inches in length, with feelers like a lobster. Its sting is often fatal, in August and September. Men were sleeping upon their backs, within a few feet of the reptile. After resting two hours, and refreshing ourselves with an omelet and a glass of red wine, we proceeded slowly upon our journey, and reached Pescia at dawn of day. Early as it was, the peasantry were pouring into the village, carrying their vegetables and fruits to market. The females have beautiful faces, lighted up with apparent cheerfulness. They bear their baskets upon their heads; and no sculptor ever fashioned from the marble, caryatides half so graceful, as might be found in this group of market-girls. We paused a few minutes and looked into a little church. A priest was at the altar, and the villagers were kneeling at their matins. Their devotions were not disturbed. The neutral ground, on the borders of Tuscany and Lucca, is the arena for duels--a kind of sport of which the Italians are not fond. They prefer to use the dirk. We rode for some miles along the borders of a canal, which hurries down from the mountains with a copious, strong current, and soon found ourselves upon the banks of the Serchio, an old acquaintance. It is here a large and beautiful stream. The road winds along its brink, and enters a mountainous region, forming a miniature picture of the Alps. First descending upon the rocks and washing in the pure waters of the river, we obtained another omelet at a small inn, containing more Madonnas and crucifixes than comforts. The path onward is excellent. It was begun by the French, and finished by the Princess Maria Louisa. We were soon lost among the lofty and green ridges of the Apennines, pursuing the capricious windings of the Serchio for ten miles. The hills are clothed with chestnut, and often crowned with convents and cottages, in situations the most wild and romantic imaginable. Small white villages are sprinkled along the bottom of the glen, which is not more than half a mile in width. Occasionally a spire rises from its quiet bosom. Several ancient and ruinous bridges extend across the river. them is said to be the work of the devil. One of The Austrian, Prussian, and Swedish ministers passed us in splendid style, on their way to the Baths, the modern Baiæ, or the Saratoga of Italy. Crossing the Ponte Serraglio, the Rialto of Lucca, we entered the busy, bustling, and gay little village about noon. A meridian sun pouring down its blaze upon a southern exposure, so hemmed in by the surrounding hills, as to exclude every breath of air, induced me to believe, that this watering-place is not the most eligible summer retreat. I am not yet fully satisfied, that my first impression was erroneous, though the village certainly improves wonderfully on acquaintance. As crowds of visitants had already arrived, we deemed ourselves extremely fortunate in obtaining, through the negotiations of Teresa, a suite of chambers, in a large house, standing in a retired situation, at the base of a romantic hill, the rocks of which rose to Alpine heights above our windows. But how fallacious are often our hopes in the smaller, as well as in the more important concerns of life! Scarcely were we comfortably settled, before domestic afflictions began to thicken upon us. At Pistoia my companions laughed at my apprehensions of meeting scorpions. Soon after our arrival, the Consul, in letting down his window-curtain, was nigh putting his hand upon one of the monsters, coiled up in its folds. A cry was raised, and an old woman came in and despatched it with her broom-stick. Next morning I found another of the venomous reptiles, secreted under my boots, within a few feet of my bed.* In the course of the day, three or four more were killed in various parts of the house. I sat up all one night as a sentinel, to watch the movements of the enemy, while my friends slept. A council of war was held, and it was unanimously agreed, that a retreat was expedient. We accordingly repacked our trunks, and took lodgings with Signora Pieri, a smart Luccese housewife, who gave us new apartments, which were at least free from scorpions. Thus eligibly settled for a week, we set about examining localities, and the resources for instruction and amusement. The situation of the Baths of Lucca is in the highest degree picturesque and romantic. An insulated hill, perhaps 1500 feet in height, rises in the centre of an immense amphitheatre of the Apennines, of still greater elevation, but clothed to their very tops with successive belts of vines, olives, and chestnuts, in the midst of which is here and there seen a dwelling or convent hanging upon the rocks. To the north of the central mount, which is three or four miles in circumference, flows the Serchio, and on the south, the Lima, one of its principal branches. * A captain in the British Navy, whom I met at the Baths, informed me that he found one of these animals crawling up the bed-clothes towards an infant child, who was asleep. They appear to be more numerous here, than in other parts of Italy; though thirteen were killed in my boarding-house at Florence the rast year. Both streams wind through deep glens, sometimes rural, but more frequently wild, and unite just below the Ponte Serraglio. Three separate villages rise round the sides of the rocky and woody cone; one in the vale of the Serchio, another on the bank of the Lima, and a third near the point of junction. The houses of the respective hamlets often straggle more than half way up the green barrier, which divides them. A footpath, ascending by terraces, passes over the very summit, and opens a direct communication be. tween the groups of visitants. The currents of the two rivers are rapid, and their waters musical. At evening, when the houses are all lighted up, and illuminated windows are seen at aerial heights among the trees, the view is fanciful and brilliant beyond description. The hot springs gush in copious streams from the brow of the hill on both sides, where spacious baths have been erected, crowned with triple towers,* finished in good style, and furnished with the usual accommodations and conveniences. They are under the superintendence of three commissioners, appointed annually by the Duke from among his nobility, who may ex officio be styled "Knights of the Bath." The prices are fixed at moderate rates, and the regulations appear to be judicious and liberal. We bathed daily. The waters are transparent, exhilarating, and delicious; though I thought they subsequently produced languor, and had not a salutary effect upon the constitution. The natural temperature of the fountains is generally about 90 degrees; but some of them are so hot as to form vapour baths, which are fitted up for that purpose. Strange as it may seem, we saw a water-snake swimming in one of these reservoirs. There is one kind of bathing called by the Italians docce, which is used in local affections. A stream of hot water is forced with great violence through a pipe, upon the seat of the complaint. It is said to prove efficacious. On the day after our arrival, we were introduced to a wealthy merchant of Leghorn, to whom a friend at Marseilles had given us letters. He owns a palace here, another at Pisa, and several at the seat of his business, where he alternately resides, as the season may render it the most agreeable. We were fortunate in finding him among the Apennines, as his profuse hospitality contributed essentially to the pleasures of our excursion. He gave us the freedom of his box at Demidoff's * A vane on one of these towers bears the word "Libertas"-Liberty-a motto not often found in modern Italy. There is also a long Latin inscription in the vestibule of one of the baths, ascribing to the waters the same miraculous properties, which Hobbes imputes to those of Buxton, in Derbyshire. theatre, and insisted on our dining with him, with the occasional addition of a breakfast, every day during our visit. His table was always crowned with dainties-with trout from the neighbouring brooks, vege tables and fruits from his own gardens, fresh butter made every morning on his own farm, a dozen kinds of the choicest wines, cooled by a fountain playing in the dining-hall, after the manner of the Triclinium of the old Romans. His palace at the Baths is appropriately called the Buonrisi or Bellevue. It stands on the declivity, half way up the green eminence between the Lima and Serchio, affording a wide and enchanting view into the vale of the former, and of the mountains rising above. In the rear, cliffs tufted with trees and half buried in vines, climb stage above stage, in ranges of terraces for hundreds of feet. A garden spreads below, watered by a bright fountain, which plays into a white marble basin, and is shaded by laurel. On one side stands a pretty pavilion, ornamented with frescos, which was occupied at the time of our visit by the British minister at the court of Tuscany. The palace itself is lofty, and its saloons are furnished in elegant style. It has some interesting associations. The celebrated Montaigne has given a description of it in his travels through Italy. He occupied it for some time in 1581, and gave a splendid ball in the very saloon, where we used daily to dine. He ascribes to it a refreshing coolness, which it still possesses. Its present wealthy proprietor, who has reached almost a patriarchal age, but is still blest with a liberal share of vivacity, has opened a secluded walk, for the distance of a mile, into the solitudes of the mountains, whither he resorts every morning at an early hour for exercise. He called us out of bed on one occasion, to accompany him to his charming retreat. In the afternoon, he rolls in his phaeton over the Ponte Serraglio, mingling in the fashionable throng. I have been thus particular in a description of this seat, because it is decidedly the finest at the Baths, and presents a picture of the peculiar local scenery. The head-quarters of gaiety and fashion are the palace and theatre of Count Demidoff, situated upon the banks of the Lima, several hundred feet below the Buonvisi. This Russian nobleman is as remarkable for his splendour, as for his boundless wealth. He is the proprietor of the mines of Siberia, and his income exceeds a million of dollars a year, which with all his extravagance he cannot contrive means to exhaust. His expenses at the Baths are said to be a thousand dollars a day, and to exceed this amount, during his residence at Leghorn in September, and at Florence in winter. He keeps twenty-six splendid coaches, with four and six horses to each, and his retinue comprises a |