ITALIAN GARDENS OF THE RENAISSANCE 
Arno just below Bibbiena. The description of the 
clouds gathering over the mountains towards dusk 
and falling in torrents of rain on the battlefield heaped 
with dead and dying, is given with all the vividness of 
an eye-witness. To-day all is still in those fair regions. 
The ashes of Guelf and Ghibelline warriors have fed 
the golden corn that waves on the fertile plain, and 
the peaceful music of the “ Angelus ” rings along the 
green hillside which once echoed to the noise of 
clashing steel and the confused shouts of struggling 
horsemen. We looked across the valley at the towers 
of Poppi rising on the opposite hill in the calm glow 
of the evening sunlight, and listened to the bells 
of the Bibbiena churches behind us until the tale of 
that hard-won fight which Dante had made real to us 
seemed to fade away again into the dimness of past 
ages, and we forgot that the wooded slopes below us 
had ever been the scene of strife and bloodshed. 
Early the next morning we started for La Vernia 
through fields of tall maize and woods laden with those 
chestnuts for which Bibbiena was famous as long ago 
as Burchiello’s days. Skirting the banks of the Corsa- 
lone torrent we passed through a forest where ilex 
and holly and here and there fig-trees and laurels 
mingled with the shady chestnut-trees until we crossed 
the stream, and the more arduous part of the ascent 
began. These remote scenes were not unknown to 
