The Valley of Decision

4.5.

Unpublished fragment from Mr. Arthur Young’s diary of his travels in
Italy in the year 1789.

October 1st.

Having agreed with a vetturino to carry me to Pianura, set out this morning from Mantua.  The country mostly arable, with rows of elm and maple pollard.  Dined at Casal Maggiore, in an infamous filthy inn.  At dinner was joined by a gentleman who had taken the other seat in the vettura as far as Pianura.  We engaged in conversation and I found him a man of lively intelligence and the most polished address.  Though dressed in the foreign style, en abbe, he spoke English with as much fluency as myself, and but for the philosophical tone of his remarks I had taken him for an ecclesiastic.  Altogether a striking and somewhat perplexing character:  able, keen, intelligent, evidently used to the best company, yet acquainted with the condition of the people, the methods of farming, and other economical subjects such as are seldom thought worthy of attention among Italians of quality.

It appeared he was newly from France, where he had been as much struck as myself by the general state of ferment.  Though owning that there was much reason for discontent, and that the conduct of the court and ministers was blind and infatuated beyond belief, he yet declared himself gravely apprehensive of the future, saying that the people knew not what they wanted, and were unwilling to listen to those that might have proved their best advisors.  Whether by this he meant the clergy I know not; though I observed he spoke favourably of that body in France, pointing out that, long before the recent agitations, they had defended the civil rights of the Third Estate, and citing many cases in which the country curates had shown themselves the truest friends of the people:  a fact my own observation hath confirmed.

I remarked to him that I was surprised to find how little talk there was in Italy of the distracted conditions in France; and this though the country is overrun with French refugees, or emigres, as they call themselves, who bring with them reports that might well excite the alarm of neighbouring governments.  He said he had remarked the same indifference, but that this was consonant with the Italian character, which never looked to the morrow; and he added that the mild disposition of the people, and their profound respect for religion, were sufficient assurance against any political excess.

To this I could not forbear replying that I could not regard as excesses the just protests of the poor against the unlawful tyranny of the privileged classes, nor forbear to hail with joy the dawn of that light of freedom which hath already shed so sublime an effulgence on the wilds of the New World.  The abate took this in good part, though I could see he was not wholly of my way of thinking; but he declared that in his opinion different races needed different laws, and that the sturdy and temperate American colonists were fitted to enjoy a greater measure of political freedom than the more volatile French and Italians—­as though liberty were not destined by the Creator to be equally shared by all mankind! (Footnote:  I let this passage stand, though the late unhappy events in France have, alas! proved that my friend the abate was nearer right than myself.  June, 1794.)

In the afternoon through a poor country to Ponte di Po, a miserable village on the borders of the duchy, where we lay, not slept, in our clothes, at the worst inn I have yet encountered.  Here our luggage was plumbed for Pianura.  The impertinence of the petty sovereigns to travellers in Italy is often intolerable, and the customs officers show the utmost insolence in the search for seditious pamphlets and other contraband articles; but here I was agreeably surprised by the courtesy of the officials and the despatch with which our luggage was examined.  On my remarking this, my companion replied that the Duke of Pianura was a man of liberal views, anxious to encourage foreigners to visit his state, and the last to put petty obstacles in the way of travel.  I answered, this was the report I had heard of him; and it was in the hope of learning something more of the reforms he was said to have effected, that I had turned aside to visit the duchy.  My companion replied that his Highness had in fact introduced some innovations in the government; but that changes which seemed the most beneficial in one direction often worked mischief in another, so that the wisest ruler was perhaps not he that did the greatest amount of good, but he that was cause of the fewest evils.

The 2nd.

From Ponte di Po to Pianura the most convenient way is by water; but the river Piana being greatly swollen by the late rains, my friend, who seems well-acquainted with the country, proposed driving thither:  a suggestion I readily accepted, as it gave me a good opportunity to study the roads and farms of the duchy.

Crossing the Piana, drove near four hours over horrible roads across waste land, thinly wooded, without houses or cultivation.  On my expressing surprise that the territory of so enlightened a prince would lie thus neglected, the abate said this land was a fief of the see of Pianura, and that the Duke was desirous of annexing it to the duchy.  I asked if it were true that his Highness had given his people a constitution modelled on that of the Duke of Tuscany.  He said he had heard the report; but that for his part he must deplore any measure tending to debar the clergy from the possession of land.  Seeing my surprise, he explained that, in Italy at least, the religious orders were far better landlords than the great nobles or the petty sovereigns, who, being for the most part absent from their estates, left their peasantry to be pillaged by rapacious middlemen and stewards:  an argument I have heard advanced by other travellers, and have myself had frequent occasion to corroborate.

On leaving the Bishop’s domain, remarked an improvement in the roads.  Flat land, well irrigated, and divided as usual into small holdings.  The pernicious metayer system exists everywhere, but I am told the Duke is opposed to it, though it is upheld not only by the landed class, but by the numerous economists that write on agriculture from their closets, but would doubtless be sorely puzzled to distinguish a beet-root from a turnip.

The 3rd.

Set out early to visit Pianura.  The city clean and well-kept.  The Duke has introduced street-lamps, such as are used in Turin, and the pavement is remarkably fair and even.  Few beggars are to be seen and the people have a thriving look.  Visited the Cathedral and Baptistery, in the Gothic style, more curious than beautiful; also the Duke’s picture gallery.

Learning that the Duchess was to ride out in the afternoon, had the curiosity to walk abroad to see her.  A good view of her as she left the palace.  Though no longer in her first youth she is one of the handsomest women I have seen.  Remarked a decided likeness to the Queen of France, though the eye and smile are less engaging.  The people in the streets received her sullenly, and I am told her debts and disorders are the scandal of the town.  She has, of course, her cicisbeo, and the Duke is the devoted slave of a learned lady, who is said to exert an unlimited influence over him, and to have done much to better the condition of the people.  A new part for a prince’s mistress to play!

In the evening to the theatre, a handsome building, well-lit with wax, where Cimarosa’s Due Baroni was agreeably sung.

The 4th.

My lord Hervey, in Florence, having favoured me with a letter to Count Trescorre, the Duke’s prime minister, I waited on that gentleman yesterday.  His excellency received me politely and assured me that he knew me by reputation and would do all he could to put me in the way of investigating the agricultural conditions of the duchy.  Contrary to the Italian custom, he invited me to dine with him the next day.  As a rule these great nobles do not open their doors to foreigners, however well recommended.

Visited, by appointment, the press of the celebrated Andreoni, who was banished during the late Duke’s reign for suspected liberal tendencies, but is now restored to favour and placed at the head of the Royal Typography.  Signor Andreoni received me with every mark of esteem, and after having shown me some of the finest examples of his work—­such as the Pindar, the Lucretius and the Dante—­accompanied me to a neighbouring coffee-house, where I was introduced to several lovers of agriculture.  Here I learned some particulars of the Duke’s attempted reforms.  He has undertaken the work of draining the vast marsh of Pontesordo, to the west of the city, notorious for its mal’aria; has renounced the monopoly of corn and tobacco; has taken the University out of the hands of the Barnabites, and introduced the teaching of the physical sciences, formerly prohibited by the Church; has spent since his accession near 200,000 liv. on improving the roads throughout the duchy, and is now engaged in framing a constitution which shall deprive the clergy of the greatest part of their privileges and confirm the sovereign’s right to annex ecclesiastical territory for the benefit of the people.

In spite of these radical measures, his Highness is not popular with the masses.  He is accused of irreligion by the monks that he has removed from the University, and his mistress, the daughter of a noted free-thinker who was driven from Piedmont by the Inquisition, is said to have an unholy influence over him.  I am told these rumours are diligently fomented by the late Duke’s minister, now Prior of the Dominican monastery, a man of bigoted views but great astuteness.  The truth is, the people are so completely under the influence of the friars that a word is enough to turn them against their truest benefactors.

In the afternoon I was setting out to visit the Bishop’s gallery when Count Trescorre’s secretary waited on me with an invitation to inspect the estates of the Marchioness of Boscofolto:  an offer I readily accepted—­for what are the masterpieces of Raphael or Cleomenes to the sight of a good turnip field or of a well-kept dairy?

I had heard of Boscofolto, which was given by the late Duke to his mistress, as one of the most productive estates of the duchy; but great was my disappointment on beholding it.  Fine gardens there are, to be sure, clipt walks, leaden statues, and water-works; but as for the farms, all is dirt, neglect, disorder.  Spite of the lady’s wealth, all are let out alla meta, and farmed on principles that would disgrace a savage.  The spade used instead of the plough, the hedges neglected, mole-casts in the pastures, good land run to waste, the peasants starving and indebted—­where, with a little thrift and humanity, all had been smiling plenty!  Learned that on the owner’s death this great property reverts to the Barnabites.

From Boscofolto to the church of the Madonna del Monte, where is one of their wonder-working images, said to be annually visited by close on thirty thousand pilgrims; but there is always some exaggeration in such figures.  A fine building, richly adorned, and hung with an extraordinary number of votive offerings:  silver arms, legs, hearts, wax images, and paintings.  Some of these latter are clearly the work of village artists, and depict the miraculous escape of the peasantry from various calamities, and the preservation of their crops from floods, drought, lightning and so forth.  These poor wretches had done more to better their crops by spending their savings in good ploughshares and harrows than by hanging gew-gaws on a wooden idol.

The Rector received us civilly and showed us the treasury, full of jewels and costly plate, and the buildings where the pilgrims are lodged.  Learned that the Giubileo or centenary festival of the Madonna is shortly to be celebrated with great pomp.  The poorer classes delight in these ceremonies, and I am told this is to surpass all previous ones, the clergy intending to work on the superstitions of the people and thus turn them against the new charter.  It is said the Duke hopes to counteract these designs by offering a jewelled diadem to the Virgin; but this will no doubt do him a bad turn with the esprits libres.  These little states are as full of intrigues as a foul fruit of maggots.

The 5th.

To dinner at Count Trescorre’s where, as usual, I was the plainest-dressed man in the company.  Have long since ceased to be concerned by this:  why should a mere English farmer compete in elegance with these Monsignori and Illustrissimi?  Surprised to find among the company my travelling-companion of the other day.  Learned that he is the abate de Crucis, a personal friend of the Duke’s.  He greeted me cordially, and on hearing my name, said that he was acquainted with my works in the translation of Mons. Freville, and now understood how it was that I had got the better of him in our farming disputations on the way hither.

Was surprised to be told by Count Trescorre that the Duke desired me to wait on him that evening.  Though in general not ambitious of such honours, yet in this case nothing could be more gratifying.

The 6th.

Yesterday evening to the palace, where his Highness received me with great affability.  He was in his private apartments, with the abate de Crucis and several other learned men; among them the famous abate Crescenti, librarian to his Highness and author of the celebrated Chronicles of the Italian States.  Happy indeed is the prince who surrounds himself with scholars instead of courtiers!  Yet I cannot say that the impression his Highness produced on me was one of happiness.  His countenance is sad, almost careworn, though with a smile of engaging sweetness; his manner affable without condescension, and open without familiarity.  I am told he is oppressed by the cares of his station; and from a certain irresolution of voice and eye, that bespeaks not so much weakness as a speculative cast of mind, I can believe him less fitted for active government than for the meditations of the closet.  He appears, however, zealous to perform his duties; questioned me eagerly about my impressions of Italy, and showed a flattering familiarity with my works, and a desire to profit by what he was pleased to call my exceptional knowledge of agriculture.  I thought I perceived in him a sincere wish to study the welfare of his people; but was disappointed to find among his chosen associates not one practical farmer or economist, but only the usual closet-theorists that are too busy planning Utopias to think of planting turnips.

The 7th.

Visited his Highness’s estate at Valsecca.  Here he has converted a handsome seat into a school of agriculture, tearing down an immense orangery to plant mulberries, and replacing costly gardens and statuary by well-tilled fields:  a good example to his wealthy subjects.  Unfortunately his bailiff is not what we should call a practical farmer; and many acres of valuable ground are given up to a botanic garden, where exotic plants are grown at great expense, and rather for curiosity than use:  a common error of noble agriculturists.

In the afternoon with the abate de Crucis to the Benedictine monastery, a league beyond the city.  Here I saw the best farming in the duchy.  The Prior received us politely and conversed with intelligence on drainage, crops and irrigation.  I urged on him the cultivation of turnips and he appeared struck by my arguments.  The tenants on this great estate appeared better housed and fed than any I have seen in Pianura.  The monks have a school of agriculture, less pretentious but better-managed than the Duke’s.  Some of them study physics and chemistry, and there are good chirurgeons among them, who care for the poor without pay.  The aged and infirm peasants are housed in a neat almshouse, and the sick nursed in a clean well-built lazaret.  Altogether an agreeable picture of rural prosperity, though I had rather it had been the result of free labour than of monastic bounty.

The 8th.

By appointment, to the Duke’s Egeria.  This lady, the Signorina F.V., having heard that I was in Pianura, had desired the Signor Andreoni to bring me to her.

I had expected a female of the loud declamatory type:  something of the Corilla Olimpica order; but in this was agreeably disappointed.  The Signorina V. is modestly lodged, lives in the frugal style of the middle class, and refuses to accept a title, though she is thus debarred from going to court.  Were it not indiscreet to speculate on a lady’s age, I should put hers at somewhat above thirty.  Though without the Duchess’s commanding elegance she has, I believe, more beauty of a quiet sort:  a countenance at once soft and animated, agreeably tinged with melancholy, yet lit up by the incessant play of thought and emotion that succeed each other in her talk.  Better conversation I never heard; and can heartily confirm the assurances of those who had told me that the lady was as agreeable in discourse as learned in the closet. (Footnote:  It has before now been observed that the free and volatile manners of foreign ladies tend to blind the English traveller to the inferiority of their physical charms.  Note by a Female Friend of the Author.)

On entering, found a numerous company assembled to compliment my hostess on her recent appointment as doctor of the University.  This is an honour not uncommonly conferred in Italy, where female learning, perhaps from its rarity, is highly esteemed; but I am told the ladies thus distinguished seldom speak in public, though their degree entitles them to a chair in the University.  In the Signorina V.’s society I found the most advanced reformers of the duchy:  among others Signor Gamba, the famous pamphleteer, author of a remarkable treatise on taxation, which had nearly cost him his liberty under the late Duke’s reign.  He is a man of extreme views and sarcastic tongue, with an irritability of manner that is perhaps the result of bodily infirmities.  His ideas, I am told, have much weight with the fair doctoress; and in the lampoons of the day the new constitution is said to be the offspring of their amours, and to have inherited its father’s deformity.

The company presently withdrawing, my hostess pressed me to remain.  She was eager for news from France, spoke admiringly of the new constitution, and recited in a moving manner an Ode of her own composition on the Fall of the Bastille.  Though living so retired she makes no secret of her connection with the Duke; said he had told her of his conversation with me, and asked what I thought of his plan for draining the marsh of Pontesordo.  On my attempting to reply to this in detail, I saw that, like some of the most accomplished of her sex, she was impatient of minutiae, and preferred general ideas to particular instances; but when the talk turned on the rights of the people I was struck by the energy and justice of her remarks, and by a tone of resolution and courage that made me to say to myself:  “Here is the hand that rules the state.”

She questioned me earnestly about the state of affairs in France, begged me to lend her what pamphlets I could procure, and while making no secret of her republican sympathies, expressed herself with a moderation not always found in her sex.  Of the clergy alone she appeared intolerant:  a fact hardly to be wondered at, considering the persecution to which she and her father have been subjected.  She detained me near two hours in such discourse, and on my taking leave asked with some show of feeling what I, as a practical economist, would advise the Duke to do for the benefit of his people; to which I replied, “Plant turnips, madam!” and she laughed heartily, and said no doubt I was right.  But I fear all the heads here are too full of fine theories to condescend to such simple improvements…