Another Gothic church is Sant' Anastasia, which was commenced by the Dominicans in the thirteenth century and is still incomplete. The nave is very fine and has the same low vaulting that is a feature in the Cathedral; its walls, too, are cracked and held together by iron girders. Close to the west door in the interior are two humpbacked figures which hold the Holy Water basins and are of some interest. One of them was executed by the father of Paolo Veronese and the other by Alessandro Rossi, who took his cripple son "Gobbino" for his model.
The most interesting ecclesiastical fabric in the city is, however, the church of San Zenone. It is unspoilt by anything flamboyant or gaudy, and is a fine example of Romanesque architecture—some consider it the finest in North Italy. A ninth-century building stood here before the presentstructure was begun in 1138. The west façade is marble, the apse and sides of alternating brick and marble courses. The great portal is a most elaborate example of early twelfth-century work, on which are rudely sculptured knights engaging in deadly combat, scriptural subjects and imitations of Roman bas-reliefs with Latin inscriptions. Theodoric on horseback, with feet in stirrups—a very early representation of such—and Roman dress, engages in the chase of the deer with the Devil. The attendant dogs are evil spirits furnished to the Emperor by the Arch-fiend. The ninth-century bronze doors are very remarkable and consist of forty-two square plates fixed on to pine-wood. The subjects of each panel, which are Biblical, are most interesting; some of the little figures wear the conical flat-brimmed hat that may still be seen on the heads of the shepherds in the more remote districts of Venetia. These doors boast no handles, but two huge grotesque heads do duty instead, and are the means of opening and closing them. Above the portal is a wheel-of-fortune window executed by Briolotus. At the top is the figure of a king, and at the bottom lies a prostrate man; between these two are many figures climbing up and falling down in their efforts to reach the best place. The façade terminates in a gable, with a lean-to on either side.
INTERIOR OF S. ZENO, VERONAINTERIOR OF S. ZENO, VERONA
The interior is very striking, not only in its good proportions but in its simplicity, which no side-altars mar. As in the cathedral at Chester, one enters from the west down a flight of steps, held a moment in admiration by the solemn grandeur of this fine church. The beautiful larch roof soars away far above the mellowed floor, the warm colour of the walls and depth of shadow through the arches of the crypt below the choir, create a harmony of colour from our point of vantage not often met with in Italy's churches. The aisles are divided from the nave by alternate piers and red marble pillars, the former with ascending Doric pilasters, two of which, near the west end, support a flying arch beneath the roof and are evident traces of an early vaulting. At the end of the nave, and occupying its last three bays, is the raised choir reached by two flights of marble steps on either side of those leading down into the crypt. On the red marble balustrade of the choir are figures of Christ and the twelve apostles. In a niche on the south side is a forbidding looking figure of S. Zeno, the patron saint of the city, who, being an African, is represented with a black face. The apse at the east end was rebuilt in the fifteenth century and has Gothic windows.
The old Benedictine cloisters of the once attached monastery stand on the north, and contain amongst other tombs twenty-nine of theDella Scalas. The cloisters and tombs are admirably preserved. The former consists of brick arches, pointed on the east and west, and round on the north and south, supported by coupled columns of red marble. Of Verona's forty churches these three are the most typical and interesting, and San Zenone, with its great architectural simplicity and wonderfulcampanile, holds the palm.
It is a city of shapely bell-towers; every church has one. Some are high, others low and unpretending; some are flat topped, others embattled or crowned by the red brick spire which greets one further west in the lake country. But the most beautiful of all is that which stands at a corner of the Piazza dei Signori, adjoining the Palazzo della Ragione, and rears its head over two hundred and fifty feet from the pavement below. Like a queen, this graceful Campanile del Municipio stands, dominating her subjects the other towers, with all the tinkling bells they contain. Across the river from the vantage-ground of the terrace on the hill beneath the Castello S. Pietro, Verona lies mapped out. Her dull red and brown roofs remind one of the harmonious colours of a Bokharan rug. Immediately below, at the foot of the hill, are the ruins of the Roman theatre, and the green waters of the Adige, rushing under the arches of the old stone bridge close by. Straight as a line ran theRoman street to the Porta dei Borsari, erected under the Emperor Gallienus in 265, and out into the country beyond. Between this old gateway, which stands athwart the street almost blocking it, and the river, is mediæval Verona, intersected and crossed by hundreds ofvicoli, or lanes, and full of subjects for a painter's brush in thecortilithat fringe them. At the corner of the Vicola Pigna and the "Alley of the Jutting Stone," is a low marble column with a huge fir-cone on the top, a reminiscence of Roman days. Near at hand is the fine palace that Sanmicheli erected for the Miniscalchi family, and in a lane a few steps away, a crumbling remnant of another fine house with a beautiful portal and row of windows. These are but a few things in the secluded byways of old Verona, where one's feet continually led one on journeys of discovery. Many a silent and deserted courtyard I found, where the grass shyly thrust its head between the cobblestones, and where creepers came wantonly trailing down over old walls in a sweet endeavour to hide the decay of man's handiwork.
From all these it is but a step to the focus of the city's life, the Piazza delle Erbe, the forum of Roman rule, and the most picturesque market square in Italy. In the centre—and seen in the sketch—is the small open tribune which occupiesthe place of an old building where the newly elected Capitano del Popolo was invested with the insignia of his office. The fountain farther up the square was erected by Berengarius in 916, and supplied with fresh water by Can Signorio. The figure surmounting it gazes stonily every day over a sea of umbrellas which shelter the market folk below. Can Signorio beautified his native city, and erected the tower at the end of the piazza—a tower which can boast of the first public clock. The Lion of St. Mark stands on an isolated column, surrounded by vegetable and fruit stalls, in front of the Palazzo Tresa, a highly ornate specimen of the seventeenth century. Many of the old houses still bear traces of the frescoes which covered them, and which at one time must have made Verona's streets veritable galleries of decorative art. Others retain the marble balconies which formed so fascinating a feature of the city's architecture.
THE MARKET PLACE, VERONATHE MARKET PLACE, VERONA
Of earlier days there still remains one of the grandest ruins in Italy—the celebrated Amphitheatre. It was the night of a hot day; a blood-red moon, mounting on her upward path in the copper-coloured sky, left a grim mass of deep shadow beneath. Bats were hawking in and out of the black shadow, as yet unrelieved by the electric lights, and the spacious piazza was nearly empty. An ominous feeling, intensified by thedistant hum of the busier parts of the city, unsettled one's nerves. My thoughts travelled back to the time when, there behind that gloomy mass, slaves would be cleansing the arena after a scene of cruel sport, and the distant hum was nothing but the excited throngs discussing the brutal slaughter. Did the great poet in his twilight wanderings ever see such a moon and such a sky? It was certainly an evening that would have enticed him to shun the noisy company of his fellow men and saunter alone in the shadow of the great Amphitheatre. Perhaps his spirit was there now. Small wonder that in my dreams that night the howls of a cruel audience and the gentleness of the lonely poet were mixed up in inextricable confusion.
The quaint old city of Padua lies on the beaten track to Venice. In its great Basilica repose the remains of St. Anthony. Giotto's frescoes in the Church of the Madonna are still a glory to behold, its university is one of the oldest in Europe, and the modern epicure can drink coffee of the very best at Pedrocchi's, an establishment as well known amongst Italians as the celebrated Florian's at Venice. The origin of Padua goes back to Antenor, whose tomb occupies a corner near the Ponte de Lorenzo close to the house at one time inhabited by Dante. A sarcophagus was discovered in 1274 during excavations for the building of a foundling hospital, and when opened, a skeleton of immense size, one hand still gripping a sword, was seen inside. Who could it be but Antenor? There was Virgil's authority for it that he had founded Padua—so Antenor it was who lay there in his stone coffin, and the good folk of Padua carried the sarcophagus and its contents to the church of S. Lorenzo amidst great excitement. The church has been demolished but the tomb was spared.
Padua's tortuous streets are lined with arcades, and although modern requirements have ordained that some should be altered and the houses pulled down, it still preserves an air of mediæval antiquity. Situated on the winding little river Bacchiglione and intersected by other small streams, it forms in the itinerary of the tourist a sort of prelude to Venice. Innumerable bridges span these waterways. Some of them are of Roman construction; and wherever one's footsteps lead one, be it along theriviere—the open streets that run by the side of the streams—or the narrow ways that may be likened to a rabbit warren, the great charm of bygone days lingers in them all, and still clings to its old walls and bridges.
The Cathedral, with an incomplete façade, was not finished till 1754. It is a vast, ugly structure of brick with acampanileand dome. The whitewashed interior possesses no redeeming feature; unless it be a rather pleasing course of grey marble that runs round on a level with the capitals of the grey columns. A bust of Petrarch, who was a canon here, and some beautiful twelfth-century MSS. with exquisite miniatures in the sacristy, are the most interesting things it contains. If there is but little in the Cathedral worthy of notice there is much in the other churches of Padua.
THE CATHEDRAL, PADUATHE CATHEDRAL, PADUA
Sta Giustiana is a very fine building of the sixteenth century, commenced from designs by Padre Girolamo da Brescia and finished fifty years later by Andrea Morone. All its altars are decorated with scrolls and floral patterns, in the inlaid marble work for which Italy has been famous for many generations.
The church of S. Agostino degli Eremitani is a solemn building of a single nave three hundred feet in length, which was constructed at the latter end of the thirteenth century. Its sacristy is used by the students of the university as their chapel, and many memorials of the most famous among them cover its walls. The tombs the church contains are very interesting. One with a magnificent canopy is of the fifth Lord of Padua, Jacopo di Carrara, a friend of Petrarch's, while other members of this extinct family lie buried in the church. The Carraras were Lords of Padua for many generations; the last of the great race with his two sons held the city in 1405 against the Venetians, but famine so reduced the garrison that they surrendered themselves to the besiegers and were conveyed prisoners to Venice. The Council of Ten decreed that they should be strangled in their cells, and a member of the noble Venetian family of Priuli performed this disgraceful murder in the dungeons of the Doge's palace.
Sta Maria dell' Arena, or the church of theMadonna of the Arena, stands practically in what was the Roman Amphitheatre. About the year 1306, a certain Enrico Scrovengo, who was owner of the Arena and adjacent land, built within its precincts a chapel of the Annunciation, known as Sta Maria dell' Arena. Giotto was working in Padua at the time, and Enrico recognising his talent employed him to build and decorate the little chapel. It consists of a single nave with a Gothic apse, and tiny sacristy in which is a monument to the founder, whose tomb is behind the altar. It is not the province of this book to deal with the pictorial art of the country, but Giotto's frescoes which cover the walls of this little church stand far above all else—not excepting Fra Angelico's beautiful decorations in the monastic cells of S. Marco at Florence—in the deep piety and tender expression of intense religious feeling they portray.
The greatest church that Padua possesses is the huge building dedicated to S. Antonio—"il Santo," as he is called by the Padovanese. This enormous fabric of marble and brick, stands facing a wide open piazza on two sides of which are low houses—houses of three storeys are very rare in the older parts of the city. Opposite the façade is Donatello's grand equestrian statue of Erasmo da Narni, or Gattamelata, bearing his name, "Opus DonatelliFlor." In the piazza is the Scuoio del Santo and the little church of San Giorgio, the sepulchral chapel of the Sograna family; close by which is the tomb of Rolando Piazzola with a fine Gothic canopy.
The seven domes of S. Antonio cluster round a heavy central spire, and two beautiful bell-towers rise elegantly to a height above; from wherever one sees the church, these domes and spires compose and "pile" well. Il Santo died in 1231, and Padua decided to erect a suitable building to hold his sacred remains. Niccolò Pisano was requisitioned for the task, but was not given a free hand. He was informed that he must follow the fashion of the day and produce a real Gothic edifice. His failure to carry out these instructions can be best seen in the façade, where the three portals are very poor; nevertheless, and despite his leanings towards other styles, he was able to introduce something of the Gothic in his bell-towers, in the open galleries round the exterior of the apse, and the arcading of the west front, with a mixed result that has produced a really stupendous church. The best decoration of the exterior is contained in the three west doors of bronze, which are exceedingly good.
The fine interior is most impressive, but what the result will be when the present scheme of decoration, already begun in the choir and apse, iscarried out, it is difficult to say. The chapel of Il Santo is half way up the north aisle. Lights burn day and night before the altar, beneath which repose the saint's remains. Four fine columns support the somewhat heavy frieze of the great Renaissance screen by Sansovino, which separates it from the aisle. Two of these columns have a charming idea in their capitals, where little sea-horses take the place of the acanthus leaf. The screen is terminated by two very beautiful pilasters adorned with exquisite arabesques. The interior of this interesting chapel is lined with nine reliefs, one of which, by Sansovino, is rather curious and certainly very gruesome. The sculptor has represented a suicide with a gaping crowd of women surrounding him in his self-inflicted death agonies. Two enormous silver candlesticks, partly of Gothic and partly Renaissance design, stand at the foot of the steps of the altar, and bronze figures and silver angels are placed upon the balustrade. In the vestibule between this chapel and the next hang hundreds of votive offerings of all descriptions, forming a museum of the tangible homage paid to the saint by his devotees. The next chapel is the only part left of an ancient fabric which stood here long before the good Padovanese raised the present magnificent church as a memorial of their venerated saint.
In the south aisle, opposite to and corresponding with Il Santo's chapel, is one dedicated to S. Felix, which is fronted by a good screen decorated with an effective fish-scale pattern of Verona marble. It contains a good altar, placed high above a flight of steps, and some interesting fourteenth-century frescoes. A thick coating of paint quite spoils the well-carved Gothic stalls, and it is to be hoped that when the scheme of decoration reaches this chapel these fine stalls will be scraped and then left in their pristine state. In another chapel are the tombs of Gattamelata and his son; these and two monuments designed by Sanmicheli on two of the piers of the nave are the best in the church.
The presbytery is cut off from the nave by a low balustrade, in the centre of which, rising in a bold sweep, is a very fine bronze gate. The High Altar, impressively placed at the top of some steps, has eight splendid panels containing bas-reliefs by Donatello. The master was also responsible for the fine group of the Madonna and Saints, as well as the huge crucifix, which are placed above it. The magnificent bronze candelabrum, which stands to the left of the altar, is twelve feet high. Its maker, Andrea Riccio, spent ten years over the work before he considered it fit to leave his studio. The figures at the base are symbolical of Music, History, Destiny, and Astrology, forming with thoseabove, a paschal candlestick that is one of the finest pieces of bronze work in any church in the country. The sanctuary beyond the apse was an addition of the year 1693, and occupies the most eastern dome seen in the illustration. Great gilded sliding doors hide a wonderful example of fifteenth-century goldsmith's work, a casket with Il Santo's tongue inside, and many other sacred relics, as well as Gattamelata's marshal's baton. The great doors are surrounded by work of the late seventeenth century, an example of the bad taste and very low ebb ecclesiastical art had sunk to at that period. Cherubs and nude female figures playing stringed instruments—angels apparently—circle round S. Antonio, who is borne aloft by other nudes. The extravagance of the whole thing is a jarring note amongst much that is extremely fine.
The monks of the brotherhood of S. Antonio still inhabit the conventual buildings attached to the church, and their dark-robed figures pass silently to and fro in the cloistered courts of the monastery. The walls of these three courts are lined with fine tombs and memorial slabs, and it was from one of these cloisters the illustration was taken. A great magnolia tree grows on the well-kept grass which covers the ground like green velvet. No sound from the outside world penetrated this sequestered nook. The only note to break the silence was thedrowsy hum from a voice at prayer in one of the little green-shuttered rooms above, and the occasional twittering of a canary in its cage. One worked undisturbed at those domes and towers which compose so well and seem to reach up to the very heavens.
S. ANTONIO, PADUAS. ANTONIO, PADUA
Padua's university was founded in 1221 by the Emperor Frederick II. on the site of the Inn of the Ox, and is still called il Bò. Its handsome courtyard, attributed to Palladio, is adorned with armorial bearings of distinguishedalumni. At the head of the great staircase is a statue to Elena Piscopia, a poetess, musician, and fluent linguist; she received a doctor's degree and died a spinster in 1684. The anatomical theatre is the oldest in Europe. Among other famous men connected with il Bò the names of Baldus, who taught law, and Galileo, who expounded mathematics, must be mentioned.
Padua also possesses the oldest Botanical Gardens in Europe, which were instituted by the Venetian Senate in 1543. Many of the exotics which grow now all over Europe were first established here, brought from the East by Venetian traders, and the botanist can spend many interesting hours in this well cared for and shady retreat.
A vast building with a remarkable history occupies one whole side of the market square.A much-travelled architect and engineer, Fra Giovanni, visited Padua in the fourteenth century, bringing with him drawings of an Indian palace; these so pleased the Padovanese that he was asked to construct a roof to their great hall, the three divisions of which had been destroyed by fire. Fra Giovanni set to work, and his vaulted wooden ceiling, one of the largest in Europe, stands covering the principal chamber of the Palazzo della Ragione, though the roof above was renewed in 1857. The paintings on the walls of this magnificent room have by degrees replaced a series of frescoes by Giotto. They are mostly mystical and symbolical, the best among them being those representing Justice and Prudence. The wooden horse which stands in the hall is supposed to have been the model for Donatello's bronze horse on which Gattamelata is seated in the famous equestrian statue outside S. Antonio. The fineloggiaon the ground floor of the palazzo is of later date than the original parts of the building, which were designed by Pietro Cozzo and constructed in the years 1172 to 1219. In a street not far off is another beautiful building, the early-Renaissance Loggia del Consiglio, with its fine stairway and open arcade. In front of this is an antique column with the Lion of S. Mark, the sign that the city at one time belonged to the Republic of Venice.Many other houses in this quaint old town are of great interest, and the windings of its streams as they meander past rose-covered walls and low roofs, with perhaps a taperingcampanileor a dome towering above, afford a rare field for endeavours with the pencil and brush.
VENICE, which has no counterpart in the world, is a city of all others in which one can linger on in a dream taking no count of time. The days run into weeks, these spread themselves into months, and it becomes more and more difficult to tear oneself away from the entrancing "Mistress of the Seas," from her Cathedral and all her other marvellous buildings; from her seductive gondolas and silent canals; from her picture galleries, and alas! from the fragrant coffee we sip idling away the time under the colonnade outside Florian's in the Piazza.
Well, the seductive cup is drained and while our cigarette is alight let us look round. Directly opposite to us, on the north side of this grand square, stretches the long colonnade of the Procuratie Vecchie, built early in the sixteenth century as a habitation for the procurators of S. Mark. It is one of the best examples of early Renaissance architecture in Italy; nobler, simpler than the Procuratie Nuove where we sit, which was built in the last quarter of the same century. Anarcaded building in the classical style erected by Napoleon in 1810 connects the western extremities of the two Procuratie. It is a pity that this great Renaissance Piazza should be completed by an inferior bit of modern work instead of such a brilliant gem of the Renaissance style as Sansovino's Libreria Vecchia—at present invisible to us round the corner. To this building, which faces the Doge's Palace, no higher tribute could be given than to say that its perfection fairly distracts the admiration of the onlooker from the wonderful Gothic pile before it.
But all this isHamletwithout the Prince. It is time to leave the shadow of the arches, to step out into the open, and to surrender ourselves to the spell of the great church which draws one with an irresistible fascination from the first moment we set foot in the Piazza. S. Mark's rises bounding the vision at the eastern end of the great square with its gorgeous façade and cool grey domes. So rich is the colouring and so strange the outline that one wonders almost whether architecture has not passed here into the sister art of painting.
S. MARK'S, VENICES. MARK'S, VENICE
Yes, there stands a building surpassingly fascinating, unique and outside all comparison with any other church in the country. Planned as a Greek Cross, like S. Sophia at Constantinople, it is reminiscent of the East far more than any buildingin the peninsula, or even in Sicily where some with direct Arab influence still exist. The great traders of Venice who lavished their wealth on its decoration, and whose every homeward bound ship brought back from the Orient a choice column, a rare piece of marble, or some such thing as a contribution towards its making, helped to raise it bit by bit until the wonderful church grew to be what we find it to-day, the most seductive ecclesiastical fabric in Italy.
It was not until the year 1807 that S. Mark's became the Cathedral church of Venice. Before this date the Patriarchal seat was the church of S. Pietro di Castello, and S. Mark's simply the chapel attached to the Doge's Palace. In 828 the body of the Evangelist, stolen from Alexandria, was brought to Venice and S. Theodore the tutelary saint deposed to make way for a more important patron. S. Mark's remains were then placed in a church which was destroyed by fire in 976. The following year saw the first stone laid of a building which is perhaps the most interesting in Christendom; but it was not until eighty years had passed that the walls were finished, and seventy more gone by before it was consecrated. The interior sustaining walls are brick, and are lined with marble or covered with mosaics and decorated with every sort of inlay. Thetout ensembleof this is anextraordinarily harmonious mixture of styles which compels unceasing admiration.
Standing at the west end of the Piazza one sees, almost stretching across the further side, a marvellous façade of deep shadowed arches; the tympanums seem to sparkle with jewels; the arches are supported by what appears to be a forest of columns, orderly in rank, receding into the shadow. Above, to give quality to this shade, is a flat surface that runs from end to end of the façade, broken by a central semicircular window, and crowned with Gothic turrets, crocketed finials and angels with wings outspread. Then, surmounting all are five wondrous domes, Oriental in themselves, so overpoweringly Oriental that the eye, unable at this distance to discriminate, telegraphs to the brain the magic words—"The East!" Spoils from the East, from Greece, from Syria, from Egypt; mosaics of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, bronze horses of Roman origin, Gothic saints under canopied turrets, flag poles with the crimson banner and golden Lion of S. Mark, all arranged without disorder, but all succumbing to the majesty of the marvellous domes. More Eastern than European is the Venetian's love of colour, and this is the note most deeply impressed on the mind with regard to S. Mark's—five grey domes, a foil to the brilliant mosaics and many-hued marblecolumns and walls below, but blending with them so subtly that the whole is one gorgeous chromatic scale.
The effect of the blazing sun pouring down on the façade at midday, casting deep shadows under the arches, is very fine. Again, in the evening when the domes are alight with the last rays of the dying orb and the great Piazza is in cool shade, the glories of the wonderful fabric assume a dramatic effect which becomes almost tragic as the light disappears and everything subsides into a monotone. Colour begets more subtlety in grey weather; every note that might jar on the eye is then diffused among the quieter tones around, and for this reason the pearly sky of a grey day was chosen to depict S. Mark's. The greatcampanilewhich fell to the ground on July 14, 1902, is now in course of re-erection. For some years past the necessary but hideous hoarding at its base has interfered with the beauty of the Piazza. The illustration does not show this but depicts the length of the façade, with the beautiful Porta della Carta and corner of the Doge's Palace beyond.
The lowest portion of the façade is formed as a vestibule with seven arches, the last one of which at each end is open through. All the columns and their capitals (spoils from the East) are of much older date than the building. Very few of thesecapitals fit theabacuson which they rest; most of them are exquisitely carved with foliage free from all imagery. The central arch is larger than the others. Under it is a grand door of forty-eight bronze panels inlaid with silver. The workmanship of the other doors which flank this is also very fine. The intricate Byzantine carving above these forms a scheme of decoration wherein figures, birds, beasts and arabesques run in a perfect riot of fanciful design. The vaulting of the vestibule is covered with mosaics of different periods. Those of the twelfth century are concerned with the Creation of the Firmament and the Creation of Life; the story of Adam and Eve continued on to the Deluge and Noah; the tragedy of Cain and Abel; Joseph's dream, Pharaoh and the story of Moses. The general scheme throughout is of white figures, mostly nude, on a green ground. Although not in any way comparable to the earlier mosaics at Ravenna, these are far better in style and true feeling for the enrichment of a flat surface than those of later date in the lunettes above the façade arches. Here theraison d'êtreof mosaic has been made subservient to an attempt to imitate the shades and gradations of an oil painting. The most important of these later mosaics is that which was executed from a design by Titian by the brothers Zuccati in the sixteenth century, whereinS. Mark appears in pontifical robes. It is above the centre door. On the pavement beneath is a red and white lozenge of marble marking the spot where Pope Alexander III. and Barbarossa were reconciled in July 1177, through the intervention of the Venetian Republic. Many inscribed slabs of marble bearing legends in Greek and Syriac, and Roman bas-reliefs, are let into the walls of the vestibule, evidence of offerings towards the building of the fabric. All the archivolts of the five large arches are decorated with symbolic carvings; the most interesting being that of the main entrance, where a charmingly quaint story illustrative of peasant life in the twelve months of the year tells in a realistic way the labours of those who till the soil. February with a little figure sitting at a fire warming his hands is particularly naïve.
On the south, S. Mark's joins the Doge's Palace by means of the Porta della Carta. At the base of a column which stands in an angle of the wall are four porphyry figures of knights in chain mail with arms round one another's necks. This group is supposed to have come from Acre. Detached from the main building, and not far from its south-west corner, are two short rectangular columns with Greek inscriptions. They were brought from the church of S. Saba at Ptolemais in 1256. Amongst other interesting spoils there is a slab letinto the north wall on which Ceres, holding a torch in each hand, appears drawn in a chariot by two dragons. It seems to be a very early Persian work. But the best known, and certainly the finest gift the exterior of the building can boast, is that of the four bronze horses which stand over the principal entrance. Sent from Constantinople in 1204 by order of the Doge Dandolo as part of the spoils of victory when that city fell to the arms of the Venetians in the fourth Crusade, these horses at one time adorned the triumphal arch of Nero in Rome. Both Domitian and Trajan transferred them in turn to arches of their own; and Constantine conveyed them across the seas to his new capital in the East, where he also put them up over an arch. In 1797, when the Republic of Venice was no more, Napoleon took these already much-travelled horses from S. Mark's façade to Paris and placed them on the top of the Arc du Carrousel. After the peace in 1815 the Austrian Emperor, Francis I. caused them to be returned to their former position, and there they remain to-day.
Three doors open into the cathedral from the vestibule, and two on the north side. The interior strikes one at first as being very dark; but when the eye becomes accustomed to the half-light and is familiar with everything within, this wears off, and the senses are rather soothed than otherwiseby the mystic gloom. Indeed, it is a great relief to find oneself inside out of the glare of the Piazza, and, seated in a corner perhaps, quietly contemplating the grand mosaics which cover the vaulting from end to end. It is quite impossible to describe these adequately in a short chapter which deals with other things as well, but noting them in guide-book fashion one observes that those in the aisles on either side of the main entrance depict the Acts and Miracles of the Apostles. On the vaulting of the dome which forms, so to speak, the foot of the Greek cross, is the Descent of the Holy Ghost. The great central dome is covered by twelfth-century mosaics of the Ascension, and the vault between this and the first dome with Christ's Passion and Resurrection. The vaulting of the two domes which compose the arms of the cross is decorated by work of later date; that on the north with the history of S. John, and that on the south with the saints. The chapel of S. John which is in the north transept was converted in the seventeenth century into one dedicated to the Miraculous Virgin of Constantinople. In the south transept also a rededication has taken place; the chapel of S. Leonard being turned into that of the Holy Sacrament.
Behind the gorgeous marble screen which divides the presbytery from the body of the churchthe high altar rises beneath a canopy ofverde anticoborne by four columns. Two of these columns are eleventh century and are elaborately carved in courses of innumerable figures. They came from Pola when Venice subdued Istria, and are much more interesting than the other two of a later date; the remains of S. Mark rest within this magnificent shrine. On the screen itself stand the Evangelist, the twelve Apostles, and Mary.
At the back of the high altar is the Pala d'Oro, the greatest treasure the cathedral possesses, and the most celebrated golden altarpiece in existence. The upper part came from Constantinople in 976, the lower about the middle of the fourteenth century. It is composed of eighty-three panels of Greek and Byzantine design filled with enamelled figures, studded with uncut gems and precious stones, and covered with Greek and Latin inscriptions. More gorgeous than that of S. Ambrogio in Milan, this magnificent piece of goldsmith's art glitters and sparkles in a wonderful manner when lit up by the candles used at high mass, and is without doubt the most splendid ecclesiastical treasure in Italy.
INTERIOR, S. MARK'S, VENICEINTERIOR, S. MARK'S, VENICE
The fifth or eastern dome which is over the presbytery is covered with mosaics representing Christ and the Prophets, and one that is hardly visible of S. Mark is on the walls of the east end. The great figure of Christ faces the church and in its simplicity is very impressive.
The gallery, which is where the triforium would be in a Gothic building, runs round the whole cathedral and is pierced on its inner side only. The walls at the back and above are decorated with more mosaic work dealing with acts of martyrdom, and the Translation and Recovery of the Body of the Lord. When stray beams of sunlight find their way through the openings in the domes and pass along the gold background, lighting up in odd places small portions of these wonderfultesseræpictures, the effect is very beautiful. All the angles of this mosaic work are rounded off and the travelling rays glinting first on one golden corner, then on another, are strangely attractive to eyes accustomed to the greater architectural severity of a northern clime. The well-chosen slabs that line the lower portions of the cathedral walls have taken to themselves a sombre, dusky hue, a pale velvety brown, but there can be no doubt that in their pristine state they realised in their splendour the Venetian's love of colour.
The strange pulpit, which with part of the rood screen seen in the illustration stands to the north of the steps leading into the presbytery, is arranged in a double tier, and is entered by a double windingstair from the vestibule of the Capella de S. Pietro. Its curious domed sounding-board is very reminiscent of the East. Mention has already been made of the chapels of the Miraculous Virgin and S. Leonard. That dedicated to S. Peter is behind this pulpit on the north side of the presbytery. It has a door leading out into the piazza. The corresponding chapel to the south is dedicated to S. Clement. At the end of the north transept is another to S. Isidore—a dark, solemn little place. The sacristy is beyond the chapel of S. Peter at the back of the presbytery. It is a fine apartment with mosaics from designs by Titian and his pupils, which may be studied as a good example of Renaissance decoration intesseræ. Sansovino, who executed the beautiful door, is said to have had it in hand for twenty years.
The baptistery is entered from the south aisle, and with the adjoining Cappella Zeno is one of the most interesting parts of S. Mark's. In the former is the monument and sarcophagus of Doge Andrea Dandolo, who died in 1354. It is a grand specimen of the sculpture of the age. The recumbent figure of the Doge, who was the last to be buried in S. Mark's, is very serene in its realisation of the Last Sleep. All the mosaics the chamber contains were given and paid for by Andrea. Most of them naturally relate to theHoly Rite. The font is very ancient, and has a fine bronze cover designed by Sansovino and surmounted by a statuette of S. John the Baptist. A very beautiful low relief of four crossed swords which compose a cross, with birds beneath, is let into one of the walls. On the vaulted roof of the Cappella Zeno, the life of the Evangelist, whose body at first rested here, is well depicted in a series of mosaics. The centre of the chapel is occupied by the tomb of Cardinal Zeno, who left the bulk of his immense fortune to S. Mark's. The altar stands under a bronze canopy covering figures of Our Lady (who wears a gilded shoe), S. Peter, and S. John the Baptist. The legend runs that the Virgin gave her bronze shoe once to a poor votary and it was immediately turned into gold. From this incident the chapel, which became the Cardinal's Mausoleum, is also known as that of the Madonna della Scarpa.
Venice possesses nearly seventy churches, but of these only the two most celebrated can be mentioned in this chapter. They are SS. Giovanni e Paolo, and the Frari. The former had its origin in the great preaching Order of S. Dominic, and the latter in that of S. Francis. These saints, bound by vows of poverty, went forth preaching humility, and so great a meed of success did they attain, that we find throughout the country, as aresult of their crusade, huge churches like these built to hold large congregations. In Venice both Orders had their following among different patrician families, who were mainly responsible for the monetary assistance the Orders received, and who therefore acquired a sort of prescriptive right to burial space within the holy walls they had helped to raise. For this reason the tombs we find in SS. Giovanni e Paolo and the Frari are not only an epitome of the rulers of Venice, but in them can be traced from the earliest Gothic the different styles of Venetian decorative art as exemplified in her sepulchral monuments.
SS. Giovanni e Paolo is a fine brick building of early Italian Gothic, which was commenced in 1246 and finished in 1390. Its length is three hundred and thirty feet, its width at the transepts one hundred and forty-three, and in the nave ninety-one feet. From this it will be seen that the transepts are short. The spacious nave has five bays, the arches of which are supported by single columns of grey stone with simple floral capitals. The vaulting, as is usual in Italian Gothic, is low. The galleried triforium has small outlets into the church, and a clerestory of pointed lights in groups of three has taken the place of much larger single windows. The aisles are narrow. The apsidal choir is architecturallyvery striking. From a few feet above the floor rise the long narrow windows of the apse reaching up beyond the base of the vaulting and giving an idea of immense height. The glass they contain is, however, very crude; and, unfortunately, a terrible pink wash covers the walls, so pink that the beauty of the architectural features is considerably marred. The choice of material and the selection of colour has more to do with the success or failure of a building than is generally realised. The transepts, nave, and aisles are coloured grey, and harmonise with the stone columns mentioned above, and with the monuments of faintly tinted marble which crowd the walls of the aisles.
Among the most notable tombs are those of the Mocenigo family, a family which possessed the whole of the west wall of the church, and whose monuments almost cover it. Of the three equestrian tombs that are in the church, pride of place must be given to the one put there to Niccolo Orsini, who commanded the Republic's forces in the war against the League of Cambray. The gilded group of the general and his horse above the sarcophagus is full of life and vigour. The simple but very beautiful tomb of Paolo Loudan, on which his recumbent figure in full chain mail lies stretched, is a fine work of the middle of the fourteenth century.
The grand monument to Andrea Vendramin, who died in 1478, and who was the first of the new nobility to be elevated to the position of sovereign, is the most refined example of a Renaissance tomb in Venice. The Doge lies, with face turned towards the spectator, on a couch supported by eagles. Behind him are pages and other attendants. The carving and arabesques of the canopy and its supports, into which notes symbolical of naval power are crowded, though extremely intricate, are very pure in style. In the lunette beneath the arch kneels the Doge, who is being recommended to Our Lady by S. Mark. Opposite to this beautiful tomb is the Gothic memorial to Doge Michele Morosini, who died in 1382. The background of the central portion is a good mosaic of the Crucifixion, in front of which the aquiline features of the recumbent Duke are very prominent. The niches on either side are filled with figures of different saints, and the whole is surmounted by S. Michael with the Dragon.
The exterior of the church, especially the apse, which rises without a single buttress, is very impressive. A good Gothic portal occupies the centre of the unfinished west façade, which is flanked by thirteenth-century sarcophagi let into niches in the walls. Close by, and occupying one side of the Campo in which the church stands, isthe Scuola di S. Marco. This building, now a hospital, was erected in 1485 by Martino Lombardi, and is noteworthy for the curiously conceived façade that faces the square. This is composed of richly coloured marble divided into panels, on which in low relief different buildings are seen in acute perspective. They recall the same sort of decoration which prevails in the frescoes at Pompeii, but so cleverly did Lombardi arrange his scheme that their absolute falsity in no way detracts from the general design of the building.
In front of the façade stands the magnificent equestrian statue to that prince ofcondottieriwhose mausoleum at Bergamo has already been mentioned, Bartolommeo Colleoni. A man amongst men, stern, defiant and resourceful, his grand figure embodies all that a leader in troublous times should be. Firmly gripping his saddle, he sits his horse with head thrown back and a face which betokens the masterful haughtiness of the man. The group was designed by Leonardo da Vinci's master, Andrea Verrocchio, and finished by Alessandro Leopardi. It vies with Donatello's equestrian group of Gattamelata at Padua in being perhaps the best Italian Renaissance statue extant.
The Frari is a church which grew out of the accumulated funds of the Franciscans, whose enormous monastery, now holding the municipalarchives, adjoins it. This great church was commenced in 1250 and finished in 1338, and contains the monuments and tombs of some of the city's rulers, as well as many of the Venetian nobility who in bygone days made their names famous in its annals. The west façade has a simple Gothic doorway and four round windows, one of which, larger than the others, is above the figure of Christ that occupies the apex of the arch. Like SS. Giovanni e Paolo the east end is architecturally the most interesting part of the fabric. Two flights of lofty windows with exceedingly good tracery admit light into the apse. This has been continued south by later additions as far as the wall of the transept. The transept being thus enlarged has four apsidal chambers that form a pleasing sequence to the big eastern apse. The exterior of the church, when viewed from the little Campo S. Rocco outside the east end, composes extremely well. The four small apses lead up to the big one, behind which and beyond the roof line one sees the great Campanile rising over the north transept. The Frari is built of brick with a simple decorative feature in the form of a course of Venetian Gothic at the top.
Owing to subsidence of the foundations the interior is now undergoing extensive repair. The nave is very lofty, with single columns of greystone that have floral capitals. The groining ribs of the vault are of red brick and the arches of the bays are grey stone. Two of the nave columns are massively constructed of brick, and form with the brick walls of the aisles and the grey colour of the stone a very charming scheme. The choir occupies the last two bays of the nave, and as is the case in the cathedrals of Spain, is cut off from the body of the church by a rood screen. The portion of this which is in the nave is debased Renaissance, but that in the aisles is earlier and much better. The choir stalls are very finely carved and decorated with superbintarsiawork. The little door by which the canons enter the choir is particularly good in this respect, with a beauty much enhanced by the design on the doorposts. Round these cling vines and grape clusters. The clerestory consists of round windows with double lights, but there is no triforium. Among the most interesting monuments are those erected to Beato Pacifico, the Franciscan architect of the church, which is in the south transept, and one to Titian in the south aisle. His masterpiece of the Assumption, now in the Accademia delle Belle Arti, was painted for the Frari.
The domestic architecture of Venice is far more interesting than that with which we have just dealt. Peculiar to Venetia, it is the outcome ofthat period when, the city's trade being well established in northern climes, new ideas and fashions travelled back from countries over the great mountain chain and began to commingle with the older traditions of the East. Not only on the Grand Canal, but in many of the quiet byways of the Silent City, one comes across beautiful examples of that entrancing style of façade, the Venetian Gothic.
As the gondola glides swiftly over the waters of the great highway of Venice there comes into sight a group of palaces which occupies the only real angle of the Grand Canal. This group is formed of the celebrated houses built by the Foscari and Giustiniani families, and is somewhat in the style of the Doge's Palace, the first-named being contemporary with it. The flat brick façades are broken by rows of elegant windows, some with, some without balconies. The deeply-recessed arcading of the central lights of the first and second storeys gives just the right amount of shade to an otherwise flat surface, which the windows above and at either side only slightly relieve. A course of white marble edging and heavy foundations of enormous blocks of the same give solidity, and most beautifully frame the pale-red brick of which the Venetians were so fond. Rows ofpali, or posts, painted with the colours ofthe owner, serve as a dock for waiting gondolas. The water of the canal, never quiescent, is a puzzle for the painter who would study reflections. The tide ebbs and flows on the great highway, the convenient but hideous steamboat rushes by, gondolas groan and creak against their moorings, and a kaleidoscope of ever-changing shapes and colours well-nigh drives him to despair.
THE PALAZZI FOSCARI E GIUSTINIANI, VENICETHE PALAZZI FOSCARI E GIUSTINIANI, VENICE
Further up the Grand Canal is a very ornate palace, the Ca d'Oro, with angles softened by three twisted columns instead of the more usual one in this type of building. Its façade was designed by Giovanni and Bartolommeo Buon, who built the Piazzetta in front of the Doge's Palace. At one time it was entirely covered with gilt—hence the name. Down near the Salute, where the canal opens out to the sea, are the Palazzo da Mula and the fascinating little Palazzo Contarini-Fasan, with its lovely traceried balconies. These are all Venetian Gothic. Of other styles the Byzantine Palazzi, da Mosto and Loudan, the latter Byron's Venetian home, and the Renaissance Palazzi, Rezzonico, where Browning lived, Camerlanghi, Manzoni, with a frieze of eagles, Pesaro, and Dario, with plaques of coloured marble on its façade, are the most celebrated. Most of them are cracking and bulging, and more than one owes its present existence to the iron clamps which hold it together.It is much to be feared that the utilitarian steamboat and ever-increasing motor-boat traffic will sooner or later be responsible for the destruction of many a beautiful building, the foundations of which were never intended to withstand the strain of the great extra wash it creates.
In a safer position than most is the Doge's Palace, that magnificent construction which almost distracts attention from S. Mark's by its side.
The first building to be constructed for the rulers of Venice stood on the site of the Palace and was erected in 813. Fire subsequently destroyed it and also the edifice which replaced the smoking ruins. The present building was commenced in 1301 and save for the outer walls was almost gutted in 1574 and 1577. Palladio, the foremost architect of the day, contended that it would be dangerous to attempt any reconstruction unless these walls were demolished, and it speaks volumes for the good taste of the Senate that his scheme for pulling them down and putting up another palace in his own hard classic style was not adopted. The exterior as we see it is almost entirely due to the talented family of Buon—Giovanni, the father, and his two sons, Pantaleone and Bartolommeo. It is, however, much to be regretted that while restoring the façades this celebrated family oftajapieri, or stonecutters, did not adhere to the level andbeautiful design of the two windows which escaped the fire at the east end of the façade that looks over the Riva degli Schiavoni out to sea. The short massive columns of the lower colonnade give an idea of immense strength to the great flat space above. The capitals of these stunted columns are extremely interesting. The Virtues and Vices find places amidst their foliage, as do the most famous of Rome's Emperors and Philosophers, the signs of the Zodiac and many other symbols. Twisted shafts, one of the types of Venetian Gothic, terminate the three angles of the upper part of the two façades. Their bases are composed of sculptured groups. The angle nearest to S. Mark's has the Archangel Michael with the Judgment of Solomon below him. The next, at the south-west corner, is a group of Adam and Eve with Gabriel above. In the last, Noah, drunk with wine, is being covered by two of his sons, and above them is S. Raphael with Tobias, who holds a fish.
A noble window and pierced balcony of early fifteenth-century work occupies the centre of the upper arcade which faces the sea. This beautiful window and marble balcony open out from the great Sala Maggiore Consiglio. Above the moulding of the window is a figure of Justice, and below in flanking niches are SS. Peter, Paul and Mark; Faith, Hope and Charity; and the four Cardinal Virtues.A fine loggia, with cusped arches and quatrefoils above, runs round both the exposed sides of the Palace. The plan of the building is an irregular square with a great courtyard inside. The courtyard is Renaissance, the east side being a particularly good example of a period when the wealth of Venice was lavished on her buildings.
In the north-east corner of this court and opposite to the Porta della Carta, is the famous Scala dei Giganti, erected by Rizzio in 1483. At the head of this magnificent Staircase of the Giants, the Doges were crowned with the Cap of Authority. From it an open corridor runs right and left. On the right the Scala d'Oro ascends to the second floor. Only those whose names were inscribed in the Libro d'Oro were permitted to use this stairway, which led to that portion of the Palace occupied by the Doges and their attendant nobles. The continuous suite of magnificent apartments through which the visitor wanders seem full of emptiness and sadly want the stately figures and quaint dress, the sonorous voices and courtly manners of the bygone age that once peopled them and made them live. The gorgeously gilded and coloured ceilings become not only oppressive from their magnificence, but wearisome by their repetition; and despite the great traditions that cling to the Palace and the remembrance of the history made within these chambers, it is with a sigh of relief that one steps out on to the balcony where Justice holds the Scales above our head, and drinks in the balmy air that floats in over the lagoons keeping Venice pure and sweet.
THE LION OF S. MARK'S, VENICETHE LION OF S. MARK'S, VENICE
Outside on the Riva at the end of the Piazzetta are two columns of granite that were brought to Venice in 1180 by Doge Michiel. One came from Syria, the other from Constantinople. On the capital of one is the Winged Lion of S. Mark, the emblem of Venice's patron saint; an emblem which is to be found in every city in the country that owned allegiance to the Doge's rule. On the other is a figure of S. Theodore, who stands over a crocodile. S. Theodore, it will be remembered, was the tutelary saint of Venice before his deposition on the arrival of S. Mark's body; but this statue was not put up on the monolith until the year 1329. These two great columns look across the water to the isle of S. Giorgio Maggiore, where Palladio's great church stands in its chilly splendour. Beyond are the lagoons and the open sea. The marble-paved landing-stage on which they stand is from one point of view the most interesting part of Venice. On it her great traders and merchants gathered when the long-expected ships from the East came into sight; and as they swept proudly up the channels and dropped anchor opposite, onecan well imagine the excitement of the thankful owners who would in a few minutes go on board and learn of the success or failure of the long voyage just ended.
The oldest part of Venice lies across the Rialto bridge, on the island of Rivo Alto, where the fish and vegetable markets now are. As this little town grew more prosperous a wooden bridge, replaced in 1588 by the present one, was built to connect Rivo Alto with the island opposite; and by degrees the seventy-two islands on which the city is built became absorbed within her borders. It must never be forgotten that Venice, until connected with the mainland by a railway bridge, always faced the sea, which, as Grant Allen writes, was the front door.
Long before the Venice of Rivo Alto came into being, there was a flourishing little city not many miles away on the island of Torcello. At the time when Attila and his Huns descended on the Roman colony of Aquileia and wrought devastation throughout that flourishing outpost of the world's greatest city, many of the inhabitants, leaving their desolate homes to the mercy of the invader, fled to the swamps and islands at the estuaries of the rivers Po, Adige, and Brenta. Amidst these dismal surroundings the greater number found refuge on the island of Torcello. From Torcello the refugees intime pushed out to the surrounding islands, and an important station was established on Rivo Alto. Thus began Venice; and from this little island grew that great Republic, the Mistress of the Seas, which down to the time of the French Revolution had never seen a conquering host enter its waterways.
As early as 641 Torcello possessed a cathedral. This was rebuilt in 874, and parts of the structure were later on incorporated into the building which stands to-day just as it did when finished in the early eleventh century by Bishop Orseolo. Its architectural interest lies in its being an Italian church on strict Byzantine lines, and it is one of the earliest examples of cultivated native art. Its exterior possesses the simplicity of all early work and stands up like a great barrack, with itscampanilea landmark for miles over the dreary waste of waters. The interior is very austere and cold. The bays on either side of the nave separate it from the aisles. The columns that support the round arches are a light grey marble; the capitals, Corinthianized Byzantine. The clerestory lights, which are placed just under the roof, are on the south side only, those on the north having been blocked up at some remote period. The south aisle is lit by narrow round-headed windows, each of which has a great marble shutter slab on the outside still swinging in its marble socket—areminiscence of Ancient Rome, and one that exists in the Roman butchers' shops of to-day. A rood-screen shuts off the choir, the four panels of it facing the nave are particularly fine examples of the art of the early eleventh century. The two centre panels have each a couple of peacocks with necks outstretched feeding on foliage; and in the two outer two lions are sculptured in perspective, a rather unusual thing for so early a work. These panels support six elegant columns, which in their turn hold a series of painted panels of wood of the fourteenth century on which the Madonna and twelve Apostles are represented. A very fine pulpit, with reading-desk below, is to the north of the screen. It has an interesting bas-relief at the base, reconstructed in the twelfth century.
Behind the high altar, under which rest the remains of S. Eliodorus, is the tribune. This part of the church is unique. The apse is arranged in eight semicircular rows of seats, occupied at one time by the lesser clergy, in the centre of which, elevated to a position just under the small eastern light, is the bishop's throne. The throne is approached by a dozen steps separated from the rows of seats by a marble wall. The seats in times gone by were white marble, but have been recently restored and are now of brick. Despite their present warm colour, thedamp chilliness of this beautiful little church strikes a mournful note hardly relieved by the flaring red brick, or the gorgeous tone of the mosaics which cover the vaulting of the choir and apse.
In the semi-dome of the apse a dignified Madonna and Child gaze serenely below, with white-robed Apostles ranged round. The mosaics, however, which cover the west wall are of greater artistic interest, being of the ninth century. They illustrate the narrative of early Christian tradition and are divided into five bands carrying out its ideas. The marvellous tessellated floor of the cathedral has withstood, in a wonderful manner, the damp and ravages of time, but, like that of S. Mark's, is very uneven. There is an air of decay and long oblivion about the whole building that nothing can efface.
Outside, and joined to the cathedral by a cloistered walk, is the church of Sta. Fosca. Originally a basilica of the ninth century, this much dilapidated little edifice was rebuilt in 1008 in the shape of a Greek cross. A rotunda occupies the centre, inside which runs a grey pillared arcade built to support a dome that was never constructed. There are three apses; the middle one has two rows of blind arcading with ornamental brickwork above. A brick loggia, covered with whitewash, is outside, and connectswith the cloister and the cathedral. Sta. Fosca suffered martyrdom at Ravenna her native city, and her remains were brought here, and this now damp ruinous little church built around them.
On the green grass of the little piazza, which one can hardly realise was once the focus of a thriving city, stands an ancient stone chair called "The Throne of Attila." It most probably was used at the inauguration ceremony of Torcello's chief magistrates. A column of later date is beside it, and behind them, occupying one side of this deserted square, is the Palazzo del Commune, a building of the thirteenth century, now used as the museum wherein are gathered all the relics of Torcello's ancient glory that time unearths. As the gondola carries one back to Venice it threads deserted canals, and passes under many a bridge the voussoirs of which are the only remaining stones of structures that spanned the water and connected the islands over which a populous civilisation spread itself. Save for the "quack" of an occasional duck hidden in the reeds of the marsh and the garrulity of the gondolier all is silence and solitude. A vast sky above but adds to the feeling of desolation, as, level with the water's edge, we skim along. Who can tell whether Venice herself one day may not become what fascinating though dreary Torcello now is!
S. FOSCA AND CATHEDRAL, TORCELLOS. FOSCA AND CATHEDRAL, TORCELLO
ITis not every visitor to Rome who, passing under the Porta del Popolo and seeing in front a straight road with a row of squalid dwellings on one side, knows that that road, the old Via Flaminia, terminates on the Adriatic coast at far-off Rimini. This, the great highway out of Rome northwards, enters Rimini under the noble Arch of Augustus, a very fine gateway built oftravertine. Passing through the market-place named the Piazza Giulio Cesare—for here stands a pedestal with the legend that from it Julius Cæsar harangued his troops after the crossing of the Rubicon—it runs on and out of the city over the bridge that crosses the river Marrecchia. This bridge, which was commenced during the reign of Augustus and finished by Tiberius, is one of the best preserved in Italy. Of its five arches, that in the centre has the greatest span, and the two which flank it are a little larger than those at either end. Traces of pediments may still be seen on its massive buttresses. The parapet is capped by a rounded stone course. From the two centralpiers inwards and over the arch this course is raised to a higher level than on the remainder of the bridge. In summer a shallow little river meanders in silvery threads over the pebbles which form the almost dry bed of the stream, and finds its way under the arches into the harbour half a mile beyond. In winter a rushing torrent has for centuries beaten against the piers that the workmen of Augustus' time laid so well. The road above, no longer the Via Flaminia but now the Via Æmilia, runs out over the plain in a north-westerly direction to Rome's ancient colonies in the province from which it derives its name. Many fragments and columns, let into the walls and forming part of the building material of the houses of Rimini, are evidence of its importance in the days of the early emperors. Those were days when it formed with Pesaro, Fano, Sinigallia and Ancona, the group known as the five "Maritime Cities," and was one of the Capital's great Adriatic ports. The sea is but a mile off and the level sands of Rimini nowadays attract hundreds of summer visitors who take advantage of their unrivalled bathing facilities.
The first bishop was appointed to Ariminium as early as 260, and ninety-nine years later the celebrated council of the Arians and Athanasians met to deliberate over their differences in the city.In the sixteenth century, when it formed part of Otho III.'s empire, a Malatesta was appointed viceroy of Le Marche, and the long connection of this family with Rimini then commenced. The most renowned member of the "Wrong-heads" was undoubtedly Sigismondo, a man of great ferocity of disposition and licentious in his habits. Like many another bellicose noble, Sigismondo had two sides to his nature, and whatever his faults, it is to his credit that many of his leisure hours were spent in the company of philosophers and men of pacific tastes. It is due to his patronage of Art that the genius of Leo Battista Alberti, another curious and complex product of the age, found scope in the great church of S. Francesco. We owe to these two men—one the patron, the other the architect—the best example of transition from Gothic to Renaissance which Italy possesses.
The cathedral, a Gothic edifice dedicated to S. Francesco, was but one hundred years old when Sigismondo set Alberti to work on its transformation. Malatesta undoubtedly intended it to be the mausoleum of his race, and that is what this most unecclesiastical building, which is called the Tempio di Malatesta, is. The façade is extremely simple. It is spaced out into three equal divisions. The centre is occupied by the portal which has a good pediment and a round arch borne by highlyornate pilasters. On either side are four Corinthian columns supporting the three flat-membered arches of the façade. Over them is a broad frieze. The bases of these columns stand on a very beautiful course which is continued round the two sides of the Tempio. At intervals, amidst finely-chiselled heraldic roses and little elephants, are alternating shields bearing the I and S of Isotta and Sigismondo—initials that are found in every available place throughout the building—and the coat of arms of the Malatesta.
On the north and south sides of the building a grand row of seven broad round arches, on massive rectangular piers, throws a deep shadow on to the sarcophagi of the men who were Sigismondo's companions in his peaceful hours. These sarcophagi are placed between the piers, well above the spectator, on the basement which is built out from the brick wall of the original Gothic cathedral. Like the façade, this grand colonnade and its base are lined with white marble. Among the sarcophagi is one which contains a trophy brought by Sigismondo from the East.
The civilisation of the Middle Ages produced a curious phase of religion that showed itself not only in the Church, which distributed the bodies of Christian martyrs all over the country and robbed the catacombs of Rome for sacred relics in orderthat they might be adored in other places, but also in the action of the great nobles, who, to gain a little immortality, brought back from distant wars all they could lay hands on that might redound to their heavenly credit. In the case of Sigismondo it was, let us believe, a love of literature that prompted the theft of the bones of the great Platonist, Gemisthus Pletho, and placed them in the stone chest under one of Alberti's arches. There they rest near those containing the remains of kindred natures whom the warlike noble claimed as intimate friends.
The interior of the Tempio consists of a nave with side chapels and an apsidal choir. The roof is good open woodwork. There are four chapels on either side with the original pointed vault and groining. The Gothic arches which open on to the nave are covered with classic ornament. The spandrils are coloured green and are embossed with shields and a splendid floral design. The wall spaces between each chapel, as well as the west end, have a wonderful arrangement of very beautiful Corinthian pilasters that rest on a sculptured frieze with a blue ground on which are shields bearing the I and S. From this frieze depend floral festoons on bands of green and red, with medallions of coloured marble beneath. At the bases of the pilasters are figures holding shields. The whole ofthis design is executed in a grey stone of the same colour as that in the illustration. The piers of the arches of the two first chapels on either side are enriched by figures of knights and dames; the third by beautiful panels of nymphs and children carrying garlands, &c., on a light blue ground reminiscent of the Della Robbia. The fourth chapel on the south side has figures symbolical of the months of the year and the signs of the Zodiac; while that on the north has figures of saints on its piers, to which, instead of the usual classic bases, elephants of black marble have been substituted. The first chapel south is dedicated to S. Sigismondo, who sits on two of these great beasts. The Malatesta crest is above the altar. On one wall are delicately carved figures of angels drawing aside curtains from a crucifix; repeated on another, where the angels in even better attitudes part the curtains from a small closed window that looks into the Sanctuario. So delicately cut are these beautiful figures that the art which produced them seems almost plastic. The Sanctuario is closed and contains a fresco of Sigismondo Malatesta kneeling before his patron saint. The next chapel appears in the illustration. It is dedicated to S. Michele, whose figure above the altar is supposed to be a portrait of Isotta. She is interred in the tomb which the sketch shows. During the life of Sigismondo's two wives she was his mistress, but at the death of the second he married her and the record of their wedded life is a happy one. Her tomb is borne by elephants on brackets and is surmounted by a knight's helm with the Malatesta crest above.
ISOTTA'S TOMB IN THE CATHEDRAL, RIMINIISOTTA'S TOMB IN THE CATHEDRAL, RIMINI
The first chapel on the north side of the nave has a tomb placed high up on the wall, which contains the remains of as many of Sigismondo's least famous ancestors as he could lay hands on. The chapel is known as the Capella dell' Acque from an ancient statue of the Madonna which represents her as sending down rain. On the base of the pillars of this chapel are portraits in low relief of Sigismondo. The low brow, hooked nose, and cruel mouth tell one plainly that the sardonic expression of the face does not belie the character of this extraordinary man. On the wall to the right of the west door is his tomb, which, considering the part he played in the history of his day, must be acknowledged as very simple and plain.
The other chapels are full of the tombs of the illustrious members, male and female, of the House of Malatesta.
Along the length of the nave in front of all these chapels runs a splendid marble screen or balustrade. At every fourth pillar, on the marblerail, stands a charming little cherub resting on a shield or holding a bunch of flowers or basket of fruit. The screen of the last chapel on each side is of red Verona marble and is perforated by the elephant head of the Malatesta and gorgeously designed arabesques in circles. From one end to the other the screens stand out from the chapels into the nave, and are raised two steps above the red-tiled floor. Such are some of the features which go to make the Tempio di Malatesta one of the most extraordinary cathedrals in Italy.
There is little else to attract the visitor to Rimini, unless it be to undertake a visit to the tiny Republic of S. Marino. A pleasant day's excursion may be taken to this quaint little stretch of territory which is so picturesquely situated on a spur of the Alban mountains a few miles from the city.