Ferrara has the most deserted air of any considerable town I remember to have seen. It lies on a dead flat, in a grassy, not to say _reedy_, region also. In the centre of the place is a massive gloomy castle surrounded by a ditch, in which the Dukes of the family of Este once dwelt; but we could not enter it. We did visit a cell that has the reputation of having been the prison of Tasso, where we found the name of Byron written on the walls. Such a homage as this may be tolerated; but one dislikes the cockneyisms of writing names on walls. Being no poet, I did not presume to leave mine in the crowd. The streets of Ferrara are straight and wide; circumstances that render its desolation more apparent. The grass literally grew in them, and I can best compare the town with the portion of Schenectady, that lies off the canal; though allowance must be made for the ancient magnificence of this place. We saw many curious books and manuscripts here, and many memorials of Tasso and Ariosto. A small stream runs through the town; but the whole country, like Holland, while there is no sea visible, appears to be nearly “a wash.” It is said to be unhealthy in the autumn, and one can readily believe it. We were now touching once more on the Austrian dominions. Although Ferrara belongs to the Church, it has an Austrian garrison, for the place is fortified. We reached the Po a short distance from the gates of the town, next morning, and crossed on what is called a flying bridge, or a _ponte volante_. These bridges are common enough in Europe; though, properly speaking, they are ferries. They consist of a large floating stage, or a boat, that can receive several carriages. This is anchored by a long hawser to some ground-fastening, one or two hundred fathoms up-stream; the length of the hawser being, of course, proportioned to the width of the river. To keep the rope above water, it is sustained by more or less small boats, which sheer with the motion of the ferry-boat, or stage. All that is necessary is to let the current take the bows of the latter obliquely, when it sheers across the river, as a matter of course. We crossed, with our two carriages and eight horses, in a very few minutes, and without getting out of our seats.