cotta representing a crown of pines and
pine leaves in a wonderful state of preservation. The whole is so
artistically arranged and so natural, that one might believe it to be
one of Luca della Robbia's works. Luzzara has also a great tower, which
I had seen in the distance from Dosalo, and the only albergo in the
place gives you an excellent Italian dinner. The wine might please one
of the greatest admirers of sherry, and if you are not given feather
beds, the beds are at least clean like the rooms themselves. Here, as it
was getting too dark, I decided upon stopping, a decision which gave me
occasion to see one of the finest sunsets I ever saw. As I looked from
the albergo I could see a gradation of colours, from the purple red to
the deepest of sea blue, rising like an immense tent from the dark green
of the trees and the fields, here and there dotted with little white
houses, with their red roofs, while in front the Luzzara Tower rose
majestically in the twilight. As the hour got later the colours
deepened, and the lower end of the immense curtain gradually
disappeared, while the stars and the planets began shining high above.
A peasant was singing in a field near by, and the bells of a church were
chiming in the distance. Both seemed to harmonise wonderfully. It was a
scene of great loveliness.

At four a.m. I was up, and soon after on the road to Reggiolo, and then
to Gonzaga. Here the vegetation gets to be more luxuriant, and every
inch of ground contributes to the immense vastness of the whole. Nature
is here in full perfection, and as even the telegraphic wire hangs
leisurely down from tree to tree, instead of being stuck upon poles,
you feel that the romantic aspect of the place is too beautiful to be
encroached upon. All is peace, beauty, and happiness, all reveals to you
that you are in Italy.

In Gonzaga, which only a few days ago belonged to the Austrians, the
Italian tricolour is out of every window. As the former masters retired
the new advanced; and when a detachment of Monferrato lancers entered
the old castle town the joy of the inhabitants seemed to be almost
bordering on delirium. The lancers soon left, however. The flag only
remains.

July 11.

Cialdini began passing the Po on the 8th, and crossed at three points,
i.e., Carbonara, Carbonarola, and Follonica. Beginning at three o'clock
in the morning, he had finished crossing upon the two first pontoon
bridges towards midnight on the 9th. The b