There is another spectacle here which was exceedingly revolting to me.  The condemned criminals, chained two and two, are kept at work through the city, cleaning the streets.  They are dressed in coarse garments of a dirty red color, with the name of the crime for which they were convicted, painted on the back.  I shuddered to see so many marked with the words—­“omicidio premeditato.”  All day they are thus engaged, exposed to the scorn and contumely of the crowd, and at night dragged away to be incarcerated in damp, unwholesome dungeons, excavated under the public thoroughfares.

The employment of criminals in this way is common in Italy.  Two days after crossing St. Gothard, we saw a company of abject-looking creatures, eating their dinner by the road-side, near Bellinzona.  One of them had a small basket of articles of cotton and linen, and as he rose up to offer them to us, I was startled by the clank of fetters.  They were all employed to labor on the road.

On going down to the wharf in Leghorn, in the morning, two or three days ago, I found F——­ and B——­ just stepping on shore from the steamboat, tired enough of the discomforts of the voyage, yet anxious to set out for Florence as soon as possible.  After we had shaken off the crowd of porters, pedlars and vetturini, and taken a hasty breakfast at the Cafe Americano, we went to the Police Office to get our passports, and had the satisfaction of paying two francs for permission to proceed to Florence.  The weather had changed since the preceding day, and the sirocco-wind which blows over from the coast of Africa, filled the streets with clouds of dust, which made walking very unpleasant.  The clear blue sky had vanished, and a leaden cloud hung low on the Mediterranean, hiding the shores of Corsica and the rooky isles of Gorgona and Capraja.

The country between Leghorn and Pisa, is a flat marsh, intersected in several places by canals to carry off the stagnant water which renders this district so unhealthy.  It is said that the entire plain between the mountains of Carrarra and the hills back of Leghorn has been gradually formed by the deposits of the Arno and the receding of the Mediterranean, which is so shallow along the whole coast, that large vessels have to anchor several miles out.  As we approached Pisa over the level marsh, I could see the dome of the Cathedral and the Leaning Tower rising above the gardens and groves which surround it.

Our baggage underwent another examination at the gate, where we were again assailed by the vetturini, one of whom hung on us like a leech till we reached a hotel, and there was finally no way of shaking him off except by engaging him to take us to Florence.  The bargain having been concluded, we had still a few hours left and set off to hunt the Cathedral.  We found it on an open square near the outer wall, and quite remote from the main part of the town.  Emerging from the narrow and winding street, one takes in et a glance the Baptistery, the Campo Santo, the noble Cathedral and the Leaning Tower—­forming altogether a view rarely surpassed in Europe for architectural effect.  But the square is melancholy and deserted, and rank, untrampled grass fills the crevices of its marble pavement.