IL PASSO DELLA
FUTA - The Futa Pass The
first historical information about a road that crossed
the Apennines dates from the Roman era. Hannibal had already
discovered it in 217 B.C. Then, in his exhaustive History
of Rome Livy, whose full name was Titus Livius, tells that
in 187 B.C. after having “pacified” the Apennine
peoples, the consul Gaius Flaminius had his legionnaires
build a road that linked the plains on the far side of
the mountains with Arezzo. It was, obviously, a military
road, not more than four or five arms wide, but it was
totally paved that allowed carts to climb slopes of even
fifteen percent. The road was called Flaminia Minor. However,
over the centuries, all traces of the road were lost. Neglect,
natural events, destruction wreaked by man all contributed
to concealing it until recently. It was only in 1977 that
two scholars from Bologna, Cesare Agostini and Franco Santi
began their studies, basing their efforts on the little
information gleaned from Livy. They believed that some
sections of the road, especially in the wilder and less
settled areas must have been conserved even though they
were now buried. And that was precisely the case. After
digging and searching here and there along the ridge, looking
for squared, well-aligned stones, in 1979 beneath the peak
of Monte Bastione, under more than fifty centimeters of
earth they found a first section of paving, eight Roman
feet long. After more than twenty years of work, many sections
of the road have been brought to light and can be seen
today, and a book La Strada Bologna – Fiesole del
II secolo a.C. (Flaminia Militare) [Flaminia Miltare – the
Bologna – Fiesole Road in the II Century B.C.] about
their archeological discovery is clear evidence of the
importance of the roadway linking Florence and Bologna
ever since ancient times.
Transportation
and communications obviously did not come to a halt because the
Flaminia Minor had been forgotten and neglected. The current
route of Strada Statale n. 65 took shape in the Middle Ages,
shortly after the year 1000. In addition to trade, other reasons
such as pilgrimages, and later, the Grand Tour, made the Raticosa
Pass with its nine hundred meters the contact point between Florence
and Bologna, and between Rome and Europe. For the Jubilee of
1300, declared by Pope Boniface VIII, due to the huge numbers
of pilgrims using the road, it became known as “Romea.” These
places and paths were also frequented by others – of this
world and beyond. One example is the case of Saint Zenobius,
bishop of Florence who challenged the devil in person. The wager
was who would be able to move an enormous rock to the pass. The
saint won, as he managed to bring the Pietramore (today known
as Sasso di San Zanobi – the rock of St. Zenobius) very
close to the Raticosa Pass. Beelzebub failed, his rock slipped
out of control, rolled down into the valley and shattered into
a thousand pieces – the Maltesca, that can still be seen
in the upper valley of the Idice. Even today Zenobius is celebrated
with a religious ceremony, called Santo al Sasso, on the first
Sunday in July to commemorate the passage and his probable encounter
in 400 with St. Ambrose, bishop of Milan. Up to the start of
World War II there was still a little chapel dedicated to the
Florentine bishop, but it was destroyed when the battles were
fought nearby.
Up about one hundred years ago, the “fires of Pietramala” offered
proof that spirits did indeed gather in the area. This natural
phenomenon struck the imaginations of the people and led to the
most interesting conjectures. It was Alessandro Volta who offered
the first scientific explanation in September 1780, when he experimentally
demonstrated that the gases released by the fires were similar
to those he had studied two years before at Angera on Lake Como.
But,
during winter nights travelers sitting in their coaches would
see flames released from the slopes and they never really accepted
this positivist version. For centuries people believe that
the “burning” ground was the mouth of a volcano
hidden in the bowels of the earth. In the past, and this is
told by Giovanni Targioni-Tozzetti, people found gold coins,
pagan amulets and idols near the site of the flames, that wayfarers
had probably thrown as propitiatory offerings. Volcanoes were
considered openings leading to Hell and the coins were for
the souls of the dead so they could pay Charon his fare. However,
since drilling for oil and natural gas was begun about a century
ago the flames are no longer visible. In fact, it was the “inflammable
air of the swamps” according to Volta’s definition,
the methane that escaped from crevices in the clayey ground
that would burn during lightning storms that created the fires.
Or at least, that is how it seems.
But the Futa Pass has other stories to tell. For example there was the
Abbess Lucia, later the Blessed Lucia of Settefonti. A romantic legend
has it that after her death Lucia miraculously saved a young Bolognese
nobleman from prison in the Holy Land, who had usually climbed the
impassable ridge to the convent of Santa Cristina to guide her during
religious services.
The road changed over the centuries: the Lorraine rulers and Napoleon,
the popes and the grand dukes of Tuscany all modified the route in their
own interests. It was also rebuilt between 1715 and 1717 and in good
weather it was possible to go as far as Pianoro by coach, and from that
point on it was a “road for saddle animals and carts.”
Many
popes crossed the Futa, Pius II, Pius VII returning from Paris
where he had crowned Napoleon in 1805, then Pius IX in 1857
returning from a disappointing voyage to the legations. And
there were other travelers who wrote about the pass: Casanova,
the Marquis de Sade, De la Platerie, Da Ponte (who wrote librettos
for Mozart’s operas), Stendhal, Prince Metternich, and
Goethe who wrote about the inn where he stayed in his Italian
Journey.
The next century brought the great wars, and in World War II, the Futa
Pass was the site of the Gothic Line. The towns along the road were irreparably
damaged and mortar and cannon fire echoed through the valleys. The German
Military Cemetery with over thirty thousand graves is proof of the fierce
fighting that took place.
In more recent days the Futa Pass has made way for bicycles
and the Mille Miglia car races. During the ‘fifties Moss
and Villoresi conquered the pass as did the cyclists who chose
it as their training ground, from Gino Bartali to Gastone Nencini
who was a native of the area to Gianni Bugno who in 1991 won
the timed uphill race.
The Flaminia Minor watches it all in silence. Toponymy changed
it and then changed it back: there are those who call it the
Via degli Dei – the road of the gods – and history
still lives along its winding curves.