CATHEDRAL CITIES
OF ITALY

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CATHEDRAL CITIES
OF ITALY

WRITTEN AND ILLUSTRATED
BY
W. W. C O L L I N S, R. I.

LONDON: WILLIAM HEINEMANN
NEW YORK: DODD, MEAD AND COMPANY
1911

All rights reserved
Copyright, London, 1911, by William Heinemann
and Washington, U.S.A., by Dodd, Mead & Co.

PREFACE

THE cathedral cities of Italy, the heir of all the ages in art, are as full of enchantment to the lover of architecture as to the poet, the painter, and the historian. Side by side with the great churches that give them their crowning splendour are the public buildings, universities, palaces, and fountains that tell the story of the glorious past, and form the best monument of their great creators. These architectural jewels are often set amidst scenes of great natural beauty, which relieve and enhance the perfection of their art. Every traveller in Italy will recall the emotion with which he first saw Rome rising from the green stretches of the Campagna, recognised the domes and campaniles of Florence, or lifted up his eyes to one of those towered "cities set upon an hill, which cannot be hid"—Siena, Perugia, or Orvieto. Among the many appeals which Italy makes to æsthetic appreciation is that of infinite variety. In no country are the different styles and periods so wonderfully exemplified. Here we may range from Rome and Verona, with their relics of the antique world—amphitheatres, temples, and thermæ—to the Byzantine glories of Ravenna and Venice, the Romanesque grandeur that finds typical expression in the cathedral of Pisa, and thence to the manifestations of that Gothic art which, though it was alien to the climate and character of Italy and so struck no deep roots into the soil, intervened between Romanesque architecture and that of the Renaissance as a brilliant episode, and finds stupendous expression in the thousand pinnacles of Milan.

It is with Christian Italy that we have to deal, the Italy of cathedrals, and it is at Ravenna and at Venice that we may trace the decline of Roman architectural methods and the gradual merging of these into Byzantine forms. Though the great Basilica Ursiana of the fourth century has disappeared, Ravenna has preserved many famous monuments of the fifth century: the votive church of Galla Placidia, sister of the Emperor Honorius, the Baptistery, the aulic church of the Gothic conqueror Theodoric, Sant' Apollinare Nuovo, and the churches of San Vitale and Sant' Apollinare in Classe. Venice, rising to power and splendour when Ravenna fell on evil days, secured the heritage of her glory, and carried on the Byzantine tradition in the cathedral of Torcello, the church of San Zaccaria, and above all in the incomparable San Marco. At Pisa the Romanesque evolution culminated in a unique group of buildings, famous throughout the world, while at Milan and in the surrounding district the local type of Romanesque became sufficiently individual to figure as an independent style under the title of Lombard architecture. Of this subdivision of Romanesque the prototype seems to have been the great church of Sant' Ambrogio at Milan, while San Michele at Pavia is another early and important example. Italy's essays in Gothic are scattered throughout the length and breadth of the peninsula, from Como to Naples. The Broletto at Como and the monastic buildings at Vercelli are said to have inaugurated them. Good examples are the cathedral at Como, the church of San Francesco at Assisi, the cathedral of Orvieto, San Petronio and San Francesco at Bologna, and San Lorenzo at Genoa.

But it is to the Renaissance architecture of Italy that many of us will turn as the most intimate expression of the Italian spirit, to the works of Brunellesco, Michelozzo, and Cronaca at Florence, of Palladio at Venice and Vicenza, of Bramante, and, above all, of Michelangelo at Rome, notably in his great life-work, the church of St. Peter. The exuberant later style that resulted from a too ardent application of the principles of Michelangelo and is known as Baroque, though generally reprobated at present, must not be too sweepingly condemned. It had an exponent of great talent in Bernini, and it will hardly be denied that it gave grandiose expression to the tendency of a splendour-loving age, and that Rome owes to its exponents much of the scenic effectiveness of her streets and the impressive magnificence of her interiors.

COMO

ON a flat piece of land at the southern extremity of Italy's most beautiful lake, the ancient Lacus Larius, stands a city whose history dates back to the days when a Grecian colony nestled at the foot of the mountains which lie east and west of the modern Como. Numerous relics of Roman days found at different times, testify to the truth of the younger Pliny's letters that the Comum Novum of Julius Cæsar was in a flourishing condition during the writer's life, and enjoyed all the privileges attached to a municipium.

At the present day Como is best known as a starting-point for tourists who board the steamers at the quay and leave their decks at one of the many delightful spots which fringe the shores of a lake whose attractions cannot be overwritten. The sun shines on an endless panorama which changes every minute as the steamer pants over the blue waters, breaking up and dispelling the reflections of verdure-clad slopes and stern crags which lie mirrored on the surface. Hamlets like Nesso cling to the rocks and bridge the orriao or torrent, as it enters the lake in a foaming cascade. Monster hotel settlements like Bellagio and Cadenabbia lie further up the water, opposite to Varenna with its golf course and English caravanserai. Little is left to remind one of those bloody sixteenth-century days when Il Medeghino from his stronghold of Musso ruled the lake, and with his fleet of seven big ships and countless smaller craft blockaded the City of Como, held for Charles V. by the Marquis of Pescara, and compelled the Spaniards to come to terms. Nothing more warlike nowadays ruffles the serenity of the waters than the evil-looking little dogana craft which flash their light along the shores, sweeping every tiny bay in search of contrabbandieri. Though much could be written about the internecine wars the mountains have seen, it is not with Gian Giacomo de' Medici this chapter is concerned, but with the city itself, which lies away out of sight of the great corsair's Castle of Musso.

The Cathedral of Como, built entirely of marble, was commenced in 1396 from the plans of Lorenzi de' Spazi. The west façade, begun in 1460, was finished by Tomaso Rodario in the last few years of that century. It is Italian Gothic, with the exception of the three doorways, which are rich Lombard work; and, like all façades of the same style in Italy, has the appearance of simply facing or being stuck on to the building itself. Despite the adornment of statues and bas-reliefs, scrolls and arabesques, it has a very severe and flat look, which is unrelieved by the recesses containing busts of the two Plinys on either side of the central doorway, or the deep-set windows and canopied niches above. A fine wheel window occupies a position above the principal door and between these is a good Gothic screen with figures in five niches flanked by a couple of windows on either side.

The north side of the façade adjoins the Brotello, through the arches of which one reaches the north doorway. This is decidedly good. The porch is supported by elegant pillars and adorned by arabesques with birds, animals, and other figures. It was executed from designs by Rodario, and with the south portal possesses all the merit that good Renaissance work gives to both. The windows of the aisles are beautifully ornamented with decoration of the same character, and the slender pinnacles with their pierced galleries, albeit they remind one in their whiteness of the superior pieces of an ivory chess set, break the line of the roof in a most agreeable manner. The dome lacks proportion and is of the over-done style of French eighteenth-century work.

The interior of the cathedral is Gothic and Renaissance. The nave and aisles belong to the earlier date. The groining is good, but spoilt, as is generally found to be the case throughout Italy, by gilded and coloured bosses which mar the otherwise simple effect of the vaulting. The transepts and choir are Renaissance, and though the sympathies of the northman are more with the sterner style, it must be owned that in Como's cathedral the scheme of decoration found in these is more fitting and better of its sort than in the Gothic half of the building. At the west end of the nave stands the circular Baptistery attributed to Bramante, close by which are a lion and lioness, the former grasping a deer and the latter suckling her young. They support the two holy water basins. Among the pictures of interest which the cathedral contains is a good Bernardino Luini of the Virgin, and two glazed and framed frescoes of the Nativity and Adoration by the same hand.

The illustration shows the Brotello or old town hall, and the pinnacles and north walls of the Cathedral. The Brotello is faced with banded black and white marble, the common device for exterior walls in most Italian Gothic churches, and in this case justified by the beautiful colour it has taken on with age. The building stands mellowed by the hand of Time, a memorial of the days of the old Italian Republics; and its counterpart existed in every Lombard city. Above the arches, under which the good citizens were wont to discuss the affairs of their town while sauntering to and fro in the cool shade, is the great hall wherein the chief of the municipality assembled. From the window in the centre access was obtained to the bar, or ringhiéra outside, from which addresses were delivered to the crowd below, who in constitutional language formed the parliamento and from whom the powers of government emanated.

Two of the old city gateways still exist, the latter of which, the Porta del Torre, leading out on the high road to Milan is to-day but an empty five-storied shell. The old walls may be traced even now on the three sides of the city away from the water-front. But for these there is very little left to show the extent of a place which was once a serious rival to Milan. The staple industry is stone-working, for which the Comaschi have for centuries been widely known. In former times Como was justly celebrated for the products of its looms, excelling in number those at Lyons. Nowadays it exports the raw silk; the looms have sadly fallen off and diminished, and small industries have taken the place of those that brought considerable wealth to the pockets of its merchants.

MILAN

WHEN the great wave of conquest which swept mid-Europe in the fifth century broke against the walls of Châlons-sur-Marne and the westward march of Attila and his Huns was checked, the defeated hordes of the East followed their chief across the Alps and invaded the plain that stretches away now, just as it did in those far-off days, to the sunny seas that beat against the southern slopes of the Apennines. In the centre of this plain stood Mediolanum, a city ranking second only to Rome, and her greatest colony in the Peninsula. So rich and prosperous a place became of necessity the object of attack, and the hosts that looked to "the Scourge of God" as leader, swept into and through the fair city, sacking it completely. Rebuilt, but once again undergoing the same fate at the hands of Frederick I. in 1162, there remain but a colonnade of sixteen Corinthian columns near the Porta Ticinese, a few tablets and fragments let into the walls of other gateways, and some relics in the museum, to tell of the past glories of Rome's great colony.

Milan, as we know it now, is the centre of commercial Italy. Intersected by an excellent system of tramways, with beautiful public gardens and magnificent buildings, it is up to date in every way and stands quite apart from all the other cities with which this book is concerned. The one thing that, perhaps, above all others places it in this position is, however, no product of this commercial age, but its world-famous work of art, the great cathedral, through the lofty aisles of which still reverberates the grand music of the Ambrosian Ritual. The exterior of this immense church, next in Italy to St. Peter's in size, is adorned by a forest of spires, pinnacles, turrets and lace-like tracery. In the midst of all this rises the central tower with its airy spire, from the base of which on a clear day the snow-clad peaks of the Alps may be seen stretching miles on miles away, and bounding the whole of the northern horizon by a lovely dreamland of colour.

Very few buildings compel one's admiration as this does, an admiration wrung in my case from a mind out of sympathy with everything that lacks the dignity of repose; but such is the effect obtained by hundreds of pinnacles and statues, by the turreted flying buttresses, by the filling of every available foot of space with ornament, that one cannot but appreciate the result of the skill and patience so truly Italian, which has carried out these infinite details and produced the great work that stands in the Piazza del Duomo. The present fabric, dedicated "Mariæ Nascenti," is the third cathedral built on the site: the first was destroyed by Attila in 452, and the second by Barbarossa in 1162. The foundation-stone was laid in 1387 by Gian' Galeazzo Visconti, who from a northern clime sought his architect, Heinrich Ahrler, of Gmünden. From that time down to the present day many have had a hand in its making, among them Bramante, Leonardo da Vinci, and Giulio Romano, and the wonder is that the great structure is not far more full of incongruities than it is. The whole exterior is built of white marble from the quarries of la Gandoglia on the Simplon Road, given by the founder for this purpose.

The façade rises with a course of open Gothic work to the gable above, and is divided into five sections which terminate in clusters of Gothic turrets surmounted by pinnacles and statues. The central doorway is surrounded by excellent Renaissance sculpture, the door itself being a magnificent piece of seventeenth-century bronze work. On each side are two more portals. The bases of the intervening buttresses contain splendid panels, and the Caryatides, which support the slender Gothic shafts right and left, by Rusca and Carabelli, are extremely good in pose and execution. The great façade designed by Pellegrini for S. Carlo Borromeo in 1560 was never carried out owing to the saint's death while Pellegrini was away in Spain working on the Escorial for Philip II. The east end is the oldest part of the building, and is almost entirely taken up by three grand Gothic windows. The east window, which is of most beautiful tracery, was executed from the designs of a Frenchman, Nicholas Bonaventure. Both the other windows are fine, but the upper portion or rose pattern, although in itself very delicate, appears "stuck in," and not part of the design; some of the glass in these is very rich in colour. The archivolts of the arches are filled with figures which follow the curve in a rather uncomfortable style, not only here but in every other window save the fine classical of the façade.

The interior is grand, and of immense height, albeit the vaulting with its admirably painted tracery is evidence of the great skill of the Italian at "faking." The mellow light from the amber coloured glass of the octagon and the twilight filtering through the gorgeous hues of the other windows is remarkably and impressively pleasing. The columns of the nave, in clusters of eight shafts, are eighty feet high, and carry narrow capitals of foliage which form the base to eight canopied niches occupied by figures of saints—a fine feature. The aisles are double, the outside being lower than that next the nave. The four columns at the crossing which support the octagon are of larger dimensions than those in the nave. Two semicircular pulpits covered with bas-reliefs of gilded bronze stand on either side of the steps leading into the choir, to the solemn darkness of which the shadows thrown from the sounding-boards above make pictorially a good foreground introduction. These pulpits are supported by caryatides representing the Evangelists and four doctors of the Church.

The choir was designed by Pellegrini, and contains a fine sixteenth-century tabernacle of gilded bronze. Beneath is the subterranean church, through which one enters the tiny chapel, under the central spire, wherein is deposited, in a magnificent silver shrine the gift of Philip IV. of Spain, the body of S. Carlo Borromeo dressed in full pontificals. Born in 1538 he was created cardinal by his uncle, Pius IV., in 1561. After the close of the Council of Trent he assisted other prelates to draw up the epitome of Catholic doctrine, the "Catechismus Tridentinus"; but it is more for his good works and great charity, especially during the plague of 1576, that he lives in the hearts of the Milanese.

In the north transept is a very good example of the metal work of the thirteenth century, in the shape of a fine bejewelled bronze candelabrum. It forms a tree and has many quaint figures in its intricate design. In a chapel in this aisle is the old wooden crucifix which S. Carlo carried when barefooted he tramped the streets during the plague, tending the sick. In the south transept close to the corner near the staircase leading on to the roof is a monument to Giacomo and Gabriele de' Medici, brothers of Pius IV., and a bronze statue of S. Bartolommeo which represents him flayed. The south sacristy door is a fine specimen of Gothic work. Unlike the exterior effect, nothing obtrudes inside this great cathedral. The eye on entering looks straight up to the east, conscious as it travels there, of great pillars rising into the gloom of the vault above, of fine glass and restful solemnity, in which even the chapels in the aisles are lost, to be discovered later on only when searched for.

Next to "Mariæ Nascenti," but taking precedence in archæological interest, is the church of S. Ambrogio, a basilica dedicated by the Saint when bishop of Milan in 387 to SS. Gervasius and Protasius. It was enlarged and rebuilt in 881 and restored by Ricchini in 1631, all the original features being faithfully preserved. A closed courtyard stands below the level of the piazza outside and forms the Atrium beyond which no catechumens were allowed to pass. The capitals of the columns here have the tendency of early Christian Art and adaptations of Runic and Byzantine carving. The church is Lombardo Romanesque. Beneath the gallery over the peristyle is the celebrated door, well guarded by an iron grille, some of the cypress-wood panels of which formed portions of the gate of the Basilica Portiana closed by S. Ambrose against the Emperor Theodosius after his cruel slaughter in Thessalonica. The nave is entered by two side doors and is composed of eight bays, the columns of which are slender in proportion for the deep shadows of the dark aisles. Pilasters run up to the low round vaulting, the large galleries over the aisles being divided by these. Up a few steps which cross the nave at the last bay, and behind a low marble balustrade, is the High Altar, enclosed by one of the finest extant relics of the goldsmith's art. This magnificent casing bears the name of its German maker, Wolvinius. Some of the panels, notably that of the Transfiguration, are very Greek in treatment. The back is almost of better workmanship than the front and is more interesting, as Wolvinius has here illustrated the principal events in the life of the founder. The enamelled borders of these silver-gilt panels are of exquisite design. One of the saint as a child asleep in his cradle with a swarm of bees hovering around, considered a presage of future eloquence, is very naïve. The baldachino above this altar is borne by four grand columns of black porphyry.

Up twelve steps are the choir and tribune, and at the end of these is the primitive throne of the Archbishop of Milan, known as the chair of S. Ambrose. The eighteen seats occupied by the suffragans of the province no longer exist, having been replaced in the sixteenth century by carved wooden stalls, and thus has perished a feature identical with the Cathedral at Torcello. The semi-domed roof of the Tribune is covered with a fine ninth-century mosaic which represents the seated figure of the Almighty, beneath whom are SS. Candida, Gervasius, Protasius, Marcellina and Satirus, and a representation of the cities of Milan and Tours—Tours because there, when S. Martin was undergoing martyrdom, the spirit of S. Ambrose went to give him strength. Beneath the choir is the crypt, and at its termination, exactly under the high altar in the church above, in a splendid casket of silver and crystal, repose the remains of three Saints, Ambrose, Gervasius and Protasius. There is a curious pulpit in the church of very early Lombard work, with an "Agape" or love feast carved upon its panels. Close by upon a granite pillar rests a bronze serpent, said to be the brazen serpent of the desert and presented to Archbishop Arnulphus by the Emperor of Constantinople. S. Ambrogio was the church in which the Lombard rulers were crowned with the Iron Crown that is the chief attraction in the neighbouring city of Monza.

So well known are the art treasures of Milan that it is hardly necessary to do more than allude to the many works of great interest in the Brera, formerly a Jesuit college, and in the celebrated Biblioteca Ambrosiana; or that greatest wonder of all which has drawn so many pilgrims to the Cenacolo, the refectory near the church of Santa Maria della Grazie—the much restored Last Supper by Leonardo da Vinci. The Castello of Milan was at one time the residence of the great Visconti family, and at the death of the last male representative passed by marriage into the hands of the first duke of the Sforza line. It was during their reign that Milan took the lead in the fashion of Europe (whence we have the word "milliner") and it was then that Leonardo wrought his masterpieces, including that great equestrian statue of Francesco Sforza which was the wonder of Milan, and of which posterity was so unhappily robbed by the French invasion.

PAVIA

FROM its position close to the confluence of the rivers Po and Ticino, Pavia, the "City of a hundred Towers," was for centuries a point of strategic importance. It is at present a great artillery station. Of its hundred towers that stood at intervals around the eleventh-century walls, hardly one remains, and the old fortifications which had been reconstructed at a later date, are rapidly being converted into a spacious and shady boulevard. The celebrated bridge is however still intact, despite many violent floods, a delight to the eye and a pleasant promenade on a hot day. This notable structure, which spans the Ticino, was built by one of the great Visconti family—Gian' Galeozzo—and is roofed in.

Pavia at one time was rich in noble churches. Many have been demolished, others have fallen into decay. The cathedral, dedicated to S. Stefano, stands on the site of one erected in the seventh century. The present edifice was designed by Bramante and constructed under the direction of one of his pupils, Cristoforo Rocci. In the original plan the nave, transepts, and choir were all of one size, but the nave is the only part in which the great architect's measurements were followed. The façade, approached by a good flight of steps, is unfinished. On the north, and adjoining a fine example of a late Romanesque gateway, stands the campanile.

The interior of the main building is grey stone which has not been spoilt by the application of the whitewash brush. A fine pulpit, somewhat similar to those at Milan, stands out from one of the massive piers that support the octagon. It is of singularly large dimensions and is supported by well-carved wooden figures of the Fathers of the Church. The octagon, which carries a good dome and tower and is best seen from the market square, rises well above the roofs of the nave and choir. A gallery running round the entire cathedral forms a triforium, broken only by trasparente lights in the apse and side chapels of the choir. These windows accentuate the bad points of the barroque altars beneath. The clerestory lights are circular. If it were not for the magnificent tomb in which repose the remains of S. Augustine, the greatest of the Fathers of the Latin Church, the cathedral would be, notwithstanding the fame of its designer, the least interesting ecclesiastical building in Pavia.

Experts disagree as to who was responsible for the fine monument which covers S. Augustine's remains. The body of the saint had been removed from Hippo, a suffragan see of Carthage, to Sardinia during the Arian persecutions. It rested there until Liutprand, the Lombard king, having purchased it, placed it in the church of S. Pietro in Cielo d'Oro; and when this church was destroyed it was conveyed to the cathedral. On certain festivals the silver casket, portions of which are the original, that contains the bones of the saint robed in full pontificals is removed from its usual position and hoisted up behind the tomb, so that the devout can mount a temporary wooden stair and look on all that is left of the great father.

A figure of the saint lies stretched on the sepulchral urn that usually holds the silver casket. This rests on the basement, or lowest, of the four tiers that compose the monument. Around it are figures of the lesser saints of his Order. Above are bas-reliefs of the chief events in his life and the miracles which after his death were performed in different places through his intercessions. The liberal arts, the cardinal virtues, and many symbols adorn the tomb, which is also decorated with statues of saints and angels, two hundred and ninety in all. They are extremely well executed and enhance the beauty of the design.

The church of S. Michele is a primitive structure and bears traces of being the precursor of all ecclesiastical edifices of the Lombard style of architecture. It was originally a basilica, but short transepts have been added and the roof, which is groined, is vaulted with stone. The oldest part of the church is the crypt, which is under the choir. This is probably the building, or part of it, in which Unulfus sought sanctuary in 661 when fleeing from King Grimoladus. Four compound piers in the nave are adorned with an extraordinary series of sphinxes, symbols, animals and other figures. The façade is decorated with reliefs in a richly coloured sandstone, and has a gabled gallery that is continued round the exterior as far as the apse.

The portals are covered with a profusion of very archaic imagery in which Pagan as well as Christian subjects form most of the decoration. Sculptured bands of sandstone are placed in courses along the whole front and medallions let into the walls. These are very massively built of stone, and though restoration is evident throughout the church it still bears the impress of great age.

Sta. Maria del Carmine is a fourteenth-century building of Gothic design, and is one of the very best examples of brickwork in all Italy. The beautiful rose window of the west front and the three pointed doors with their well-moulded terra-cotta ornament could hardly be finer. Seven elegant pinnacles stand on the rather heavy cornice, forming a good set off to the campanile, which, surmounted by a brick spire, is a landmark in the district. The brick piers of the interior are exceptionally good; four squares constitute the nave, the arches of each carry simple groining. Two small lancet-shaped arches, out of all proportion with the massive brick piers that support them, open into the aisles. They have double capitals, the upper being of stone, the lower of carved brick.

In the ruined church of S. Pietro in Cielo d'Oro stood the tomb of Boethius, who under Theodoric held high office in the state. Boethius was executed in Pavia after a long and rigorous confinement in the Casa Malsap ina, during which he wrote his incomparable "Consolations of Philosophy." This work was translated into many languages and was one of the most widely known treatises in the Middle Ages. Alfred the Great translated it into Saxon. Another connection with England exists through Archbishop Lanfranc who accompanied William the Conqueror across the sea and was made prelate of Canterbury. The district round Pavia is not healthy, a condition due probably to the intricate system of irrigation by which the pastures are kept green with a rank-growing grass. Between Pavia, Piacenza and Lodi—a triangle with the last-named at the northern point—lies the country which yields the best Parmesan cheese. The fields are of three kinds, those nearly always under water, those irrigated, and those used for rotation crops. The cattle that are utilised for cheese-making are mostly Swiss bred, and being valuable are well looked after. They are stalled at sundown in the buildings attached to the great farms, where farmhouse, cottages, barns and stables are all enclosed within a high wall. The little rectangular patches of meadow on which they feed are enclosed by rows of poplars or willows which make the landscape very monotonous. In winter a dense fog often shrouds the countryside and a deadly chill pervades the atmosphere, while the humidity of summer, when the sun draws the moisture from the soaking earth, is very enervating.

BERGAMO

WHEN October comes in its yearly round and the autumn afternoons close in, it is sometimes good to sit idly outside a caffè with the pernicious cigarette and ruminate on the glories of a past summer—better this than to hustle up the street a sight-seeing. A hot day was ending and the Bergamo of mediæval times towered above the haze of a sun-baked land and the smoke that curled upwards in thin wreaths from the city below. "La Città Alta" thus raised its head proudly against the copper-coloured sky, thrusting its bulwarks to the edge of one of the last spurs of the Alps that here creep down on to the plain. What a grand prospect from the shady boulevard on those ramparts which encircle the old fortress! The sun has not yet set; beneath lies the Borgo S. Leonardo, the lower city, a busy place with factory chimneys on its outskirts; beyond, a sea of verdure, cut by lines of tall poplars and here and there a slender campanile, stretches away over Lombardy until lost in the haze past the towers and domes of Monza, Cremona, and distant Milan.

There is something very fascinating in the quiet and exclusive old city. Its streets are steep and narrow, its houses seem to rake the sky, the rattle of wheels does not often disturb the aristocratic silence, a silence accentuated tenfold when one has left behind its busy plebeian partner on the plain below, and whisked upwards by the funicular, found oneself suddenly amidst high walls. Great spaces of faced stone are these walls, pierced by tiny windows, almost forbidding in their austerity; and though glimpses of foliage and flowering creepers break through, the pervading air is one of mystery and intrigue.

In the wars with Austria, Bergamo was a great rallying-point for patriots and a continual thorn in the side of that polyglot empire. The names of heroic Bergamasque who died for their country are inscribed on sundry tablets on the walls under the old Brotello. This interesting building stands at one end of the little Piazza Garibaldi, and is somewhat similar to the one which forms the illustration to Como, with the difference that here a fine open stairway leads up to the first floor. The great hall is now occupied as a library. In a corner at the head of the stairs rises a massive quadrangular belfry, one of the prominent features in the outline of "La Città Alta."

Beyond the Brotello lies the Cathedral, a well-proportioned Renaissance building, which, by its juxtaposition to the much more ancient church of Sta Maria Maggiore, looks comparatively of recent date. It is constructed entirely of white marble and has a good dome. A Madonna by G. Bellini behind the high altar is its great treasure, and the only thing in it worthy of notice.

Sta Maria is an early Lombard pile of buildings, with a very lofty tower and an octagon over the crossing, which rises in four galleried storeys surmounted by a low spire. Good galleries extend round the exterior of the apse, and side chapels are thrust out at odd places with no particular plan. The east porch is by far the most interesting feature, and is an elaborate piece of work in breccia and white marble. The supporting pillars rest on the backs of two lions, the old ecclesiastical symbol of strength, the columns of the portal are beautifully sculptured, and one of them, encircled with admirable figures, is very fine. Above is a canopy under which, on his horse, sits King Lupus with two attendants, while beneath a second canopy on top are statuettes of the Virgin and Child, and the two Marys. The west porch is almost similar to this, but of not so intricate a design. It has also no canopies, but is surmounted by a turret niche, let into the wall of the main building, in which is the figure of the patroness. The doors of these two portals are of superbly grained rosewood. They open into the transepts, which are the finest portions of the interior, the carved choir stalls and screen by Stefano da Bergamo are considered the best in Italy.

Adjoining the east porch is the Capella Colleoni, the mausoleum of Bartolommeo Colleoni the celebrated condottiere of the fifteenth century, whose equestrian statue in front of the church of SS. Giovanni e Paolo in Venice is remarkable, not only as a work of art, but as exemplifying the power and rugged strength of a great man.

The façade is terribly ornate, with chequer work in white and black marble, red and yellow busts and medallions, twisted pillars and strange arabesques. The interior contains the tomb of Bartolommeo who sits astride his horse. It is rather too elaborate to be entirely pleasing. At the south end is one of the finest examples of intarsia, or inlaid wood-work, in Italy. The subjects of the three panels represent the entry into Jerusalem, and scenes from the stirring times in which the great condottiere played so prominent a part. The backgrounds are evidently of landscape in the neighbourhood. Not only is the spirit and execution of this fine work extremely good, but the colour surpasses anything of the sort I have seen. It is kept under lock and key, enclosed in three rosewood panels of well-selected grain. Not far from the chapel is the house in which Donizetti died. The Borgo S. Leonardo is of older date than "La Città Alta," although it is the more modern of the two. On the base of a damaged Corinthian column standing in the small piazza of Sta Maria d'Oleono is an old Latin inscription which tells that the column was erected where once stood a heathen temple, and that S. Alessandro, standard-bearer to the Theban Legion, overthrew the heathen pillar by a miracle, the column being erected by members of the municipality with the alms of the faithful. It is doubtful whether the Pergamus of ancient writers is the city on the hill or its sister on the plain; this relic rather points to the latter as the site. In the Borgo a fair, held for a month from the middle of August, and known as the Fiera di Sant' Alessandro, has taken place without intermission since the tenth century—surely a record; and there is no doubt that in the ancient Italian drama, harlequin, personifying the manners and jargon of the neighbouring Val Brembana, was a Bergamasque, and originated at this ancient festival.

BRESCIA

BRESCIA, like Bergamo, is situated on the fringe of the mountains and the plains, and like Bergamo played an important part in the wars against Austria. Its castello stands high above the rest of the city, but in the face of the power possessed of modern arms it would not be worth a garrison. So its ramparts and entrenchments have been wisely converted into a pleasant garden from which wide views of rolling country and level plain extend.

Many traces of the Roman colony of Brescia remain, but it was due to a small boy of the virile race that populate the city that the most interesting was unearthed. When a child, Girolamo Ioli was much exercised in mind about a Corinthian column that stuck out of the ground and around which he was wont to play. In maturer years the curiosity of youth was still the ruling passion, and he made it his business to agitate. Like many another agitator his demands were in time gratified, and excavations were commenced which resulted in the unearthing of a building erected by Vespasian it is supposed in the year 72—the supposition resting on fragmentary inscriptions. Palace of Justice or temple, this building is now the museum, and contains one of the finest bronzes Italy can boast of. Found in 1826, this beautiful winged figure of Victory, which is six feet high, still bears a trace of the silver fillet interwoven with a wreath of laurel-leaves that bound her hair. The last-century additions of a shield, which she was thought to have held, and a helmet under one of her feet, have been removed, and Victory stands in the state in which she was discovered. The head and limbs are finely modelled, and the arrangement of the drapery could not be excelled.

Down the wide street in front of the Museum a Corinthian column and heavy frieze, supported by massive brick pillars, have been excavated. Opposite these relics is the huge Martinengo Palace. In a line due south is the church of Sta Afra built on the site of a temple to Saturn. Most of the houses in the vicinity have Roman masonry in their basements and Roman inscriptions let into their walls. From this one gathers that ancient Brixia occupied this part of the later city. Write it down to the credit of Brescia that her citizens passed a law as early as 1480 that all antiquities found should be preserved and given up to the town.

There are two cathedrals in Brescia, La Rotunda and the Duomo Nuovo. The former is one of the most interesting ecclesiastical buildings in Italy. Constructed of stone, with a red brick dog-tooth cornice and twenty-four brick arches, supported by white marble pilasters forming an arcade into which the exterior is divided, a most pleasing effect is obtained. In the interior a circular colonnade, composed of eight extremely massive four-sided piers bearing round arches, supports the stone dome. It is supposed to be of seventh-century construction, and is evidently on the site of an earlier Roman building, as fragments of a mosaic floor exist beneath the present one. This, which is partly tesselated, is much below the level of the ground outside. Lower still, beneath the presbytery and choir, down twenty steps, is a very ancient crypt, in which forty marble columns support the round arches that carry the weight of the fabric above. None of these columns is more than five feet high. Half a dozen blocked up lights, with bases not more than three feet from the floor, are evidence that outside, the level of the ground was at one time far below where it is at present.

The Duomo Nuovo is a finely proportioned edifice and one of the best seventeenth-century churches in the country. The façade is immense and gains by its simplicity. The fine dome is said to be the third in size in Italy; and the lofty interior of white marble, unspoilt by any colour or decoration, gains in space from the fact that there is but one bay to the nave, producing the effect on the senses that one is everywhere standing under the spacious height of Brescia's greatest landmark. The houses of the piazza outside are chiefly occupied by metal-workers, and those who know the incessant din produced by the tapping of their hammers, will quite understand that it was impossible to make a sketch of these two churches as they stand together.

Adjoining the Duomo Nuovo is the Brotello with its fine Torre del Popolo, an embattled tower. The inner courtyard is partly of red brick with a good corridor of the thirteenth century, formed of pointed and round arches and brick groining. Another fine tower stands in the Piazza Vecchia, the Torre del' Orologio. Its enormous dial marks the hours from I to XXIV, the course of the sun and moon, and has the signs of the Zodiac displayed on its face. Two figures that stand on top of the tower strike the hours in a similar way to those on the Clock Tower of Venice. At the west end of the piazza is La Loggia, the town hall, a good example of an early sixteenth-century building. It was commenced, to be accurate, by Tornasso Formentone in 1492 and continued from his designs as far as the first floor. Sansovino was responsible for the second, and Palladio completed what the other two had begun. The building, however, as a whole, is superb. Magnificent arches support the first floor, to which a grand open staircase leads. The medallions and figures which adorn the exterior are extremely good, and the frieze and cornice are equally so. The rich colour of the marble employed lends a beautiful tone to a beautiful building. Unfortunately the interior was burnt out in January 1575. The fire which consumed it is supposed to have originated at the instigation of those who wished to destroy certain ancient charters granting liberties to the inhabitants.

The Torre della Pallata is in a corner of the square—a good specimen of castellated architecture, which rises from a sloping base of immense stones and terminates with a projecting turret.

Brescia contains many fine palaces, and from the streets into which they open one often gets a glimpse, through the iron grille of their portals, of a charming arcaded court. The splash of a flower embowered fountain is music to ear and the cool shade under the arches a rest for eye.

VERONA

THOSE who enter the Brenner Pass, and with faces set towards Italy, leave Innsbruck behind, may have noticed how, after toilsome puffing and straining uphill, the train suddenly seems to draw breath and glide smoothly onwards with increased pace. At the side of the iron road a little thread of water dances merrily over a pebble bed in its haste to reach the sunny plains that lie to the south of the great mountain barrier. Further on the rail and its sparkling attendant part company to join later, when, from their slender origin, the waters have become a rushing river—the river Adige. The mountains are behind, to the north; the character of the landscape has changed, and within a horseshoe bend of the swift stream, well-nigh enclosed by it, lies Verona.

Verona "La Degna," Verona the Worthy, a city crammed with the history of past wars, a city of colour, in its bricks, in its stones, in its marble walls and fresco adorned palaces. Wherever one turns, be it the pale green of the river on which the wheels of those watermills, so like the Noah's Ark of childhood's days, for ever turn, or the brilliant and keen blue of the sky, there is always colour for the eye in Verona. Colour for the mind too lies concealed in its streets and buildings. Greek, Roman, Ostrogoth and Frank, Italians and Austrians, have all ruled here. Ruled and gone and left their trace on this beautiful city—the key to Alt' Italia—which Italy once more holds and guards with jealous eye. Long may she keep it.

Verona is connected with two great names in the history of Italian architecture, Frà Giaconda, the monk who in the early days of Renaissance was supreme in the north, and Sanmicheli. Many of the fine palaces the former designed bear evidence of his talent and justify the summons to Rome, where he went at an advanced age to superintend the building of St. Peter's. The latter, who evolved the triangular and pentangular bastion, is more widely known in the science of fortification than as a builder. Frà Giacondo's finest work in Verona is undoubtedly the Palazzo del Consiglio, the old town hall called "La Loggia," which stands on the north side of the Piazza dei Signori, one of the most architecturally beautiful squares in Italy. The Palazzo della Ragione, with a courtyard and grand open stairway of the fourteenth century, is on the south of the square next door to the Tribunale, and the Prefettura is opposite. The fine portal of the latter is one of Sanmicheli's works. These magnificent buildings, with the exception of the first-named, were all at one time or another palaces of the great family of Scaligeri or Della Scala, and in one of them Dante, whose statue is in the centre of the Piazza, found refuge when driven from Florence.

The family of Scaligeri, although settled in Verona as early as 1085, comes first before the historian at the death of the bloody tyrant Ezzelino in 1261. Verona, freed from his terrible rule, became at that date a free town, and Mastino della Scala accepted the office of Capitano del Popolo. Onwards for over a hundred years the Scaligeri governed Verona; and during the reign of the most famous of the race, Francesco, or "Can Grande," Great Dog, it became the gathering-place for men of note of all sorts, and his palace the home of the great poet. The family crest, a ladder, is to be seen all over the city, while the unique group of the Scala tombs is without a parallel.

This wonderful group stands outside the little church of Sta Maria Antica at the end of a passage leading out of the Piazza dei Signori.

Of these tombs, that of Mastino I. is a simple sarcophagus ornamented with nothing but a cross. It was at one time covered with a canopy, but the stones of this, being handy, were used for the restoration of Sta Maria Antica close by. The tomb of Can Grande forms the canopy over the portal of this church. Columns support its three storeys. Upon a sarcophagus lies an effigy of the Great Dog with his good sword at his side; above is his equestrian statue in full armour. Mastino II, who succeeded his uncle Can Grande, is likewise represented by a recumbent figure on the sarcophagus of his tomb, which is also crowned by an equestrian statue in armour. The visor of his helmet is drawn down, and thereby hangs the tale that Mastino was ashamed to show his face, even to his wife, after he had treacherously slain with his own sword his relative, Bishop Bartolommeo della Scala. Can Signorio's monument, though not the most elaborate, is decidedly the finest. At the four corners under beautiful pointed canopies, are the figures of Sigismundo, Alexius, St. George, and Signorio himself. A great deal of the bronze work and detail about this tomb is very good, and the equestrian figure on the top is excellent. There, gathered together, these warrior princes of the great family repose in their last long sleep. Those who deem the pen mightier than the sword, may care to reflect that a fame more universal and lasting than that of all the Delia Scalas has been attained by a French scholar of the sixteenth century who also bore the name of Scaliger. Yet even this prince of learning was prouder of his traditional descent from the noble Veronese house than of all his achievements in the world of letters.

And Verona's churches? Tradition says that Charlemagne erected the first building on the site of the Cathedral. The present edifice, though almost entirely reconstructed in the fifteenth century, was commenced in the tenth. The most ancient part that remains, probably a portion of the first church, is the apse, which on its exterior bears traces of Roman influence. It is very simply built of a small cut grey freestone, faced with flat pilasters terminating in Roman capitals, above which is a frieze of floral pattern. In the remainder of the building Verona marble and the rich yellow stone of the district are used.

The double-arched west porch of the twelfth century is exceptionally good. Two colossal gryphons support elegant columns, and still command a certain amount of awe amongst the smaller children who play about the Piazza del Duomo. Both arches are round; the lower is supported by four columns, the upper by eight. Representations on the inner shafts of the lower arch of the two Paladins, Roland and Oliver, give a semblance to the tradition that Charlemagne had something to do with the first church erected here. Oliver holds his celebrated sword, on which is inscribed Du-rin-dar-da. Roland is cross-legged and bears his shield. They are both seen in the illustration. The colour of this porch and façade is very beautiful. Great blocks of red marble intermingle with yellow stone, white and pink marble courses continue the construction above, and arabesques of a weathered grey stone complete the harmony. The fine south portal is an earlier erection. Some ancient frescoes decorate the lunette, and monsters grin at one like a nightmare from above.

The interior is lofty and very striking. Tremendous columns support the low Gothic roof, the vaulting of which hardly exceeds the height of the arches between the nave and aisles. Many signs of "giving way" and cracks in the masonry have necessitated iron girders, which detract somewhat from a fine effect. The heavy capitals of the nave columns are rendered rather unsightly by three courses of floral design. The aisles are pointed, narrow, and very good. Encircling the high altar is a colonnade screen, which though beautiful in itself and designed by Sanmicheli, is sadly out of place. The fine bronze crucifix which surmounts it is by Gianbattista da Verona.

The cloisters lie on the north side of the Cathedral. About half a dozen feet below the level of the pavement, standing on its base, is a fine Corinthian column, with a Roman floor around. Between them and the early Lombard church of S. Giovanni in Fonte is a tortuous corridor lined with sepulchral slabs of many archbishops and bishops. This little dark church is formed of four small bays and was formerly the old baptistery. In the centre of the nave stands a huge octagonal font, with a smaller one inside, wherein stood the officiating priest. The figures in bas-relief on these two fonts, which by the way are cut from one solid block of marble, are well worth studying.

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 present structure 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.

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 the Della 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 wonderful campanile, 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 the Roman 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 of vicoli, or lanes, and full of subjects for a painter's brush in the cortili that 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 occupies the 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.

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 the distant 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.

PADUA

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 the riviere—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 a campanile and 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.

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 the Madonna 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 Donatelli Flor." 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, is carried 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 those above, 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 the drowsy 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.

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 distinguished alumni. 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 fine loggia on 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 tapering campanile or a dome towering above, afford a rare field for endeavours with the pencil and brush.

VENICE

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. An arcaded 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 is Hamlet without 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.

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 building in 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. The tout ensemble of this is an extraordinarily 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 marble columns 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 great campanile which 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 these capitals fit the abacus on 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 the raison d'être of 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, wherein S. 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 let into 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 otherwise by 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 church the high altar rises beneath a canopy of verde antico borne 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.

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 wonderful tesseræ pictures, 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 winding stair 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 in tesseræ. 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 the Holy 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 a result 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 architecturally very 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, is the 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 of condottieri whose 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 municipal archives, 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 grey stone 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 superb intarsia work. 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 of that 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 of pali, or posts, painted with the colours of the 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.

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 of tajapieri, or stonecutters, did not adhere to the level and beautiful 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.

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, one can 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 in time 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 its campanile a 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—a reminiscence 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, the damp 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 connects with 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!

RIMINI

IT is 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 of travertine. 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 central piers 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 highly ornate 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 order that 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 of this 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.

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 marble rail, 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.

FERRARA

AT the foot of the Euganean hills, those hills which stand like sentinels detached from the northern ramparts of Venetia, and guarding the tract of country that stretches eastwards to the sea between Rovigo and Venice, are the ruins of a castle—the Castello d'Este—whose lords at one time played a prominent part in the history of Italy. Of Lombard origin, these Margraves of Este had ruled the surrounding country for three centuries prior to 1452, in which year Pope Paul III. created Borso d'Este Duke of Ferrara, and the family, as long as it lasted, was thenceforth inseparably connected with the subject of this chapter. More honours were bestowed on Borso when the Emperor Frederick III. gave him the titles of Duke of Modena and Reggio, and he held the domains of those places as fiefs for his overlord. Borso's grandson Alphonso married the notorious Lucrezia Borgia; but to Azzo d'Este, Margrave of Este in the year 1110, belongs a greater claim to fame. Scion of a junior branch of the Welfs or Guelphs he succeeded to the Duchy of Bavaria on the death of his grandfather, the last male representative of the elder branch of the family, and from his off-spring grew the Guelph Houses of Hanover and Brunswick, from the former of which is descended our own Royal line. In the sixteenth century the Court of Ferrara was second to none in Europe for its patronage of the Arts and Literature, and the House of Este will always be handed down to posterity as one that did much to raise the culture of Italy to a very high pitch.

In the centre of the city, surrounded by a moat and entered by two bridges which span it, the great pile that Ferrara's rulers erected stands haughtily four-square, with four immense towers at the corners. Here in safety dwelt those mighty princes who brought renown to the city that lay around and beyond; and here in a dungeon below the level of the water, Duke Niccolo III. caused his wife and her paramour, who was one of his own natural sons, to be put to death; a tragedy which gave Byron his subject in the poem "Parisina." This huge fortress, like most of the other buildings in Ferrara, is constructed of brick. Ferrara's streets are wide, and though its palaces and houses do not rise to any great height, the gardens behind them, enclosed by high walls, give an air of spaciousness and aristocratic bearing that attest its former importance. Most of these palaces and houses are decorated with beautifully moulded brick or terra cotta courses; and the well-proportioned windows on their flat street fronts create the impression of great space, which is the chief characteristic of Ferrara. There is one important building, however, which is constructed of stone, the Palazzo de' Diamanti, so called from the peculiar facets of the material with which it is built. Ferrara possessed a school of painting of its own, and it is in this palace that the best examples have been placed. The great palace of the Bentivoglio family, where many celebrities have lodged, has a heavy stone cornice and baroque decoration on its vast brick sides. The Casa di Ariosto, built by the poet himself in the years 1526-28, and in which he died, with an inscription on its walls he composed, is another fine house. The hospital of Sta Anna, a most beautiful red brick and terra cotta building, has cloistered courts; and the cellar which was Tasso's prison for five months until he was removed, still a prisoner, to a better room, can be seen. In the castello itself Calvin the reformer found an asylum, befriended by Renée, the wife of Duke Ercole d'Este, who paid forfeit for her temerity by being separated from husband and children by a Papal Bull.

The Cathedral was begun in 1135, and its exterior belongs almost entirely to that period. The west façade is a very good example of Lombardo Gothic. It is divided into three equal portions each of which is surmounted by a gable containing what was at one time a wheel window. The central part has a good porch somewhat similar in design to the one at Verona. The semicircular arch is borne by columns supported by two dwarf figures bent double with the weight of their burden; they squat on the backs of lions, one of which holds a bull and the other a ram between its forepaws. Above this is an open gallery with very beautiful twisted pillars and quatrefoil piercing in the three arches. In the spandrils of these, and of earlier date, are bas-reliefs of the dead rising from their tombs, and over them at the base of the canopy above are reliefs of the Life of Our Saviour, the Virtues, the Vices and Seven Mortal Sins, as well as the Day of Judgment. The two flanking parts of the façade, one of which appears in the illustration, have each three tiers of arcading. The lowest is composed of nine rounded arches with four-sided columns grouped in triplets, which are enclosed by three pointed arches. The next tier is of nine pointed arches; and over this are four pointed arches deeply recessed. Following the line of the gable is an extremely effective gallery of elegant double columns and pointed arches, one of the great features of Pisan Gothic so prominent in the churches of Lucca. Near the base of this wall in a curious pilgrim's dress with a pleated skirt is the figure of Alberto d'Este.

The whole of the south wall has a double range of arches which very pleasantly break the monotony of so vast a space of yellow brick. The grand campanile at the south east-corner was put up by Ercole II., and is composed of four tiers of round arches on columns with Corinthian capitals. The alternate bands of red and cream toned marble with which the exterior is faced give a good decorative effect to this big tower.

The interior of the Cathedral has been modernised and painted to represent carved stone. Whitewash, generally the alternative to painted imitation of something substantial in construction, is perhaps preferable to this form of deception as it does not really interfere with the proportions of the architect's design. Here, however, the really fine proportion of the interior is almost destroyed by the obtrusive colours of the false marble walls, and the representation of bosses and capitals. The semicircular choir by Rossette was built in 1499 and has a ceiling covered with a fresco of the Last Judgment by Bastianino, who was one of Michael Angelo's favourite pupils. This fresco contains portraits of many of the painter's friends who are depicted in Heaven, while those with whom he was not on good terms are enduring the tortures of another place.

In the piazza outside the Cathedral a market goes on all day long throughout the year. It is difficult to analyse the feelings of folk who in the bitterest of weather unfold their great umbrellas over the fruit and vegetables exposed for sale. But so it is in Ferrara during November when the accompanying sketch was made, and every morning sees a thick coat of ice on the moat surrounding the castle. For although the good people wrapped themselves in heavy cloaks and thick coats and shivered over charcoal stoves, they still sat under their umbrellas. Habit breeds custom and custom lasts for ages.

The old city walls afford a delightful promenade of four miles or more in length. On one side, the town seems to be right in the middle of a huge market garden above the trees of which long red roofs and towers rise upwards. On the other, at this time of year, the last leaves from rows of poplars and plane trees may be seen gently falling to the ground in the tranquil frosty air, and when at rest forming a glorious carpet of russet and orange. Great teams of oxen, six couple to a team, are straining hard at the plough that cuts deep furrows in the stiff soil. The trees have long ago been trimmed and the peasants now turn their hands to the cutting of clay—that stiff clay through which the oxen toil—for brick-making. Ice covers the water in the fosse, and although the sun shines brilliantly and the malarial mosquito is no more for at least eight months, one soon realises that Ferrara is better in the spring than in late autumn.

RAVENNA

RAVENNA is one of those ancient cities the origin of which is lost in the mist of ages. It is, however, no guess work to say that in the days before the first unknown settlers found their way to the spot which became their permanent home, the fertile land in which it now lies embowered was a vast waste of waters and salt marshes. The first inhabitants of this dreary region drove piles into the mud, and erected their dwellings on such foundations as these afforded. Wooden piles will not last for ever, and the subsequent buildings that were put up, pulled down and replaced, have accordingly suffered in stability. When the march of Rome carried her legions north, Ravenna was encircled by a seagirt wall, and a Roman colony was established which became in Pompey's day a first-class naval station. Alive to the great strategic value of the city the Emperor Augustus constructed a new and second harbour capable of holding two hundred and fifty ships, which he named Portus Classis. This he connected by a canal with one of the estuaries of the river Po. Portus Classis lay three miles south of Ravenna, and between the two there soon sprang up a connecting link, the town of Cæsarea. The Emperor Honorius made Ravenna the capital of the West, and both he and his celebrated sister Placidia resided there.

In 493 Theodoric, king of the Ostrogoths, who had extended his conquests southwards over the Alps, captured the city, and Ravenna then became the capital of the Gothic kingdom. During his reign, a reign marked by absolute religious toleration, Italy was at peace for thirty years. Ravenna must have been at that time some miles from the coast. Jordanes, the historian, has handed down the fact that its celebrated Pineta, or Pine Forest, was in existence in Theodoric's day. Justinian, who drove out the Goths with the help of Belisarius and Narses, left the administration in the hands of the latter, who became the first Exarch. The Exarchs of Ravenna practically governed the entire Italian kingdom; even the Popes were subject to a rule which lasted one hundred and eighty-five years. In 1512 the Italian war that followed the League of Cambray brought a French army under Gaston le Foix into Romagna, and the bloodiest battle ever fought on Italian soil took place not far from the city; Gaston losing his life towards the close of the engagement at a spot marked by an obelisk.

It is, however, in early Christian Art, nowhere so well exemplified as in the mosaics of Ravenna, that interest is chiefly centred. More than fourteen centuries have come and gone since the first of these wonderful wall decorations were placed where they remain to-day. And though Ravenna and its celebrated Pine Forest are inseparably connected with the immortal Dante and the poet Byron, and though the sarcophagus and tomb of the former, tucked away in a corner of a little piazza, draw many a pilgrim to worship at his shrine, Ravenna lives in its mosaics and will continue thus to live as long as the walls last on which they are encrusted.

Theodoric's great basilica possesses one that is universally accepted as the finest in the world, but the church of S. Vitale is enriched with the most splendid of all. Close to S. Vitale is the mausoleum which Honorius' sister, Galla Placidia, built in the form of a Latin cross for herself and her husbands. In its way it is one of the most perfect gems of good taste in mural decoration extant. The interior walls are lined with rare marbles. The arch over the entrance has a mosaic of the Good Shepherd and His Sheep in subdued greens and greys. The vault of the first arm of the cross is covered with a most glorious blue ground out of which shines a multitude of stars in white and gold; this leads the eye in a perfect harmony of colour to the blue-green ground of the dome, whereon the four Evangelists and their symbols are portrayed in white and a dull red. The sarcophagus of the Empress still remains in the recess beyond, and in the lateral arms of the cross are those of her brother Honorius and her second husband Constantius III. These three stand exactly in the same places as they did fourteen hundred years ago. The mosaic above Placidia's tomb represents Our Lord with an open book in one hand and a cross in the other. In the centre is a gridiron towards which He proceeds. On the left side a sort of tomb or cupboard stands open disclosing on its shelves the bodies of the four Evangelists, their names being written beneath each body.

In the other recesses stags are seen drinking at fountains, and birds and arabesques cover the beautiful tesseræ groundwork. The soffits of all the windows, which are filled with thin slabs of alabaster, are adorned by a deep red, and a black and white pattern on a gold ground.

S. Vitale, the building to the right in the sketch, was erected in the reign of Justinian by Archbishop Ecclesius on the spot where S. Vitalis suffered martyrdom. Like most of the early buildings of Ravenna it has suffered from the nature of the ground on which it stands, and is buttressed up and held together by great iron ties and clamps. The interior is a vast circle with a domed roof supported by eight arches and the same number of piers, between which are semicircular two-storied recesses. These are divided by three arches with plain columns that have double capitals. A circular aisle extends round the lower part of the church carrying a gallery above. The brick walls, against which are placed many ancient sarcophagi, were originally covered with slabs of marble, and as S. Vitale and most of Ravenna's other churches are now monumentali nazionale it is to be hoped that marble may some day once more line this effective interior.

The superb mosaics on the vault of the Choir and Tribune are of the sixth century, and as fresh to-day as when first put up. The semi-dome of the apse has a fine gold ground on which the Almighty is enthroned on a globe with Archangels around. Above them float crimson and blue clouds. He gives to S. Vitalis, who stands at His right hand, the crown of martyrdom; on His left is S. Eutychius offering a model of the church. The vault of the Tribune itself is decorated with one of the most gorgeous arrangements of colour in arabesques and birds that could be imagined. On one wall is a fine mosaic of Justinian surrounded by courtiers, and S. Maximianus with two accompanying priests. The Emperor's robe is deep purple embroidered with gold and mother-of-pearl, those that the others wear are white and gold with coloured edging. On the opposite wall is the Empress Theodora attended by the ladies of her court. Here again the costumes give a fine colour note, and the expressions on the different faces, which are very Eastern in type, are remarkable. A curtain forms part of the background of this mosaic, and is, curiously enough, green, white and red, the Italian colours of the present day. On the arch are half-lengths of our Saviour and the twelve Apostles, and the two martyred sons of S. Vitalis, SS. Gervasius and Protasius whose remains rest in the church of S. Ambrogio in Milan.

All the angles of the mosaics are rounded off as in S. Mark's at Venice and elsewhere. But in S. Vitale they are patterned with bands of distinct colours, and do not interfere with the general effect as they do in S. Mark's, where the brilliant gold catches the light and accentuates the angle. The whole colour scheme of the decoration is green and white relieved by a dull purple, black and deep red set on a rich dull golden ground. However much one admires the later mosaics of Venice and Torcello, Palermo and Monreale, the palm for beautiful colour must be awarded to the glorious art of Ravenna.

At the bases of the columns in the Choir stand the celebrated pagan bas-reliefs called the "Throne of Neptune." In both, a sea-monster lies extended beneath the throne of the god. That on the right has a winged figure holding a trident; in the other, two figures bear a huge conch shell. Sea-horses, dolphins and shells, crowded in between Corinthian pilasters, form the lower panels which two nude boys bear on their shoulders staggering under the heavy weight.

Ravenna's cathedral contains nothing of any architectural interest, as it was rebuilt in the bad period of the eighteenth century. The original edifice, which was erected by S. Ursus in the fourth century, was known as the "Basilica Ursiana." The Archbishop's Palace adjoins the east end, and in it is one of Ravenna's earliest places of Christian worship. The little chapel to which we refer was probably built about 430 and was the work of Peter Chrysologos. With the exception of painted restorations to some of its frescoes it is to-day just as it was when the decorators left it more than fourteen hundred years ago. In the vestibule leading to the chapel one may see the ivory throne of S. Maximianus. This fine specimen of sixth-century art is covered with little ivory panels on which bas-reliefs tell the history of Joseph. In front of the seat are the Saint's monogram, the panels beneath representing the favourite theme of our Lord as a shepherd amidst his sheep, with the four Evangelists attendant. The four legs of the throne appear to be solid ivory; those at the back go right up to the top and must at one time have been splendid tusks.

To the north of the Cathedral is the Baptistery. The mosaics of the fifth century which line the interior are in a very light key of colour, the scheme employed being light blue, white and gold. Situated between the eight arches of the octagon are sixteen bas-reliefs of the prophets executed in a cream-coloured marble. The arches themselves are composed of two members, one within the other, the outer of which is gold edged with white; and the inner has a remarkably fine quality of blue tesseræ. In the centre of the dome S. John is seen baptizing our Saviour, who stands in the waters of Jordan surrounded by the twelve Apostles. The font, which stands on a fine inverted Corinthian capital, was at one time a vase in the Temple of Jupiter. This Temple was situated on the site of the Baptistery, and eight of its columns form the support of the octagon arches.

The cathedral, which is the church with a dome in the illustration, possesses one of the round towers peculiar to Ravenna. The date of these towers is uncertain, but is probably the eleventh or twelfth century. Insecure foundations have caused most of them to tilt to one side—note the angle of the Torre del Pubblico in the sketch—and necessitated a great deal of restoration.

Theodoric erected his palace and the basilica which adjoins, in the wide thoroughfare that runs north and south from the Porta Serrata to the Porta Nuova. Very little, if anything, remains of the first-named building. And judging from the Romanesque features of a brick colonnade and the portion of a sometime large dwelling that stands behind it, it is very doubtful whether any of the original palace exists. We have it on record, too, that Charles the Great carried off the marble columns of Theodoric's building to adorn his own palace in Aachen; and, as he did this, there is every probability that he took other material as well. But, if we have nothing left of the Gothic king's residence, we have his grand Arian basilica intact. Theodoric dedicated his church to S. Martin, but when the body of S. Apollinaris was deposited in it, a rededication to him took place. S. Apollinare Nuovo, as it has since been called in contradistinction to the other basilica at Classis, is famous throughout Christendom; famous for the finest mosaic in the world. On the north wall, in the blank space where the triforium might be, facing the sun, the Virgin is seen seated on an orange coloured cushion which rests upon a throne. She holds in her lap the Child. Two angels stand on either side. Their robes are white, hers is deep purple fringed with gold and sparkling jewels. Advancing towards her are the Three Kings of the East, whose names appear above each, Melchior, Gaspar and Balthassar. In their hands are silver vessels. The first angel holds his out to receive them. Beyond the kings, in a row, twenty-two virgins come bearing crowns. They are garbed in light purple with white veils; round their waists are bejewelled belts. The expression on the face of each is different, and each is in a slightly different attitude; one is accompanied by a little white dog. They tread lightly on the green sward from which many little flowers lift their humble heads. Between each a palm-tree grows with spreading leaves and clustering dates. It is a wonderful procession. The eagerness and haste of the Three Kings, the dignified and stately rhythm of the slowly pacing Virgins are so well realised, that, although there is no idea of anything but flat decoration in the rendering, a feeling of continuous motion holds one throughout. In the darkened corner at the west end of the mosaic are the walls of the City of Classis. The golden tesseræ of these walls are so dark and frowning that they might almost be called brown. Brown they appear to be, but this is because, through an arched opening, three ships with white sails come gliding into port over the cærulean blue of the sea. The eye is thus carried along the whole length of the mosaic without a single jarring note. From the white angels at one end to the white sails at the other, it travels along with a consciousness of repose, and one feels instinctively that one is in the presence of a masterpiece.

On the opposite wall, occupying the same position as Classis, are the city of Ravenna and the palace of Theodoric. Corresponding with the two and twenty virgins are figures of twenty-five saints clad in white—save one—and all bearing crowns. Our Saviour, seated between four angels, gives His benediction to the saints, who advance towards Him. The first, in a violet robe, is S. Martinus, the patron of the Church when the sound of the Arian creed filled its aisles. Above both these mosaics are round-headed clerestory windows with saints and prophets in the panels between. The ancient marble throne of the Arian bishops still exists in a little chapel in the north aisle; and here also are some relics of S. Apollinaris.

One of the architectural features of Ravenna's churches may be seen in the double capitals of the columns, which give them a sort of stilt, a peculiarity which does not prevail in churches elsewhere of the same date—the fifth and sixth centuries. Into these two centuries were crowded the great architectural works and their interior decorations that have made Ravenna famous. But it is sad to think that the names of those whose genius found scope on their walls, if ever recorded, have been lost.

The other great basilica, dedicated to S. Apollinaris, S. Apollinare in Classe, stands in solemn loneliness some three miles south of the city. Of Augustus' great port this church, emblem of stability, alone remains. Its round campanile towers up over the swampy meadows and uninhabited district that seem given up entirely to the sky and winds. An atrium, now reduced to a portico, stood at one time in front of the façade, but there is nothing to attract one in the barn-like exterior of the building save the glamour attached to its history, which is accentuated by the dreary desolation around.

Inside, the nave is divided by twelve round arches on each side; these are supported by columns of cipollino marble. The Byzantine capitals, as in S. Apollinare in Nuovo, are surmounted by an impost with a cross in relief. A fine flight of steps leads up to the High Altar, Choir and Tribune. The crypt is beneath. The floor of the nave, which slopes upwards towards the east, is four feet above the original, which was partly covered with mosaic. A temple of Apollo stood on the site before the church was erected in the year 534, and this older floor may be part of the pagan building.

The mosaics of the Choir and Tribune were undergoing restoration at the time when this was written, but although partly covered up enough was visible to show that in the semi-dome of the apse a large golden cross, with a representation of the Almighty's Head in the centre, occupied the middle of a very brilliant blue circle. The soffit of the arch of the Choir has a blue ground covered with multi-coloured birds and arabesques.

Amongst other of Ravenna's churches the modernised basilica of S. Francesco, the church contiguous to Dante's tomb, contains some ancient sarcophagi and the finest tomb slab in Italy. This is now out of danger and has been placed on the west wall of the nave. It originally covered the remains of Ostasio da Polenta, Lord of Ravenna. He is represented in the garb of a Franciscan friar and lies outstretched, with beautifully modelled hands and face, under a very rich Gothic canopy. The Polenta family were the first to befriend the great poet when he sought refuge here from Florence.

Adjoining the back premises of one of the hotels is the old Arian baptistery, now the oratory of Sta. Maria in Cosmedin. It was here that the first Christian baptism in Ravenna took place. The church of S. Spirito built by Theodoric opens on to the same courtyard; but, next to the Gothic king's great basilica, the most interesting building connected with his name is that which is situated half a mile outside the Porta Serrata.

A pleasant avenue with well-kept rose beds leads one on towards a circular building of grey Istrian limestone, which is covered with a dome of the same material, and we are in the presence of the tomb which Theodoric erected as the resting-place for his mortal remains. We do not see it now as it was when the great king's bones reposed in a sarcophagus within. To the Church of Rome Theodoric was a heretic, and when the Goths were driven out of Ravenna and the Arian ritual was heard no more, the Church ordered the sarcophagus to be broken up, and the ashes of him who was tolerant to all creeds to be scattered to the winds. The tomb was despoiled of its ornaments, and consecrated and used as a chapel. Even now it is sublime in its simplicity, and grand in its massive construction. Its plan is a rotunda resting on a decagonal lower chamber, each side of which is recessed and arched by great blocks of limestone set as the Etruscans set the roofs of their tombs. Rising in two storeys from the ground, which is six feet below the present level of the surrounding orchards, its dome is barely visible above the tops of the fruit trees. The lower storey rests on a platform of stone. Its pavement is always under a few inches of water. The upper storey is reached by two flights of steps which, built outside, give entrance to the sepulchral chamber from a gallery or platform that circulates round the exterior. This gallery formed at one time a portico. The shafts and bases of the colonnade were found buried in the ground when the last restoration took place in 1857. A massive cornice with a circular pattern is on the wall above, and the empty sockets placed at regular intervals, which one sees below it, presumably held the stone that formed the roof. The dome is one huge block of stone estimated to weigh two hundred tons. On its exterior, close to the edge, are a dozen perforated projections. It is thought that these were used as handles when the mass was put into position. The summit is flat, and on it at one time a statue may have stood. Simplicity is almost always one of the characteristics of the great, and the mausoleum which he erected was worthy, in its strength and plainness, of Theodoric the Goth.

BOLOGNA

THE traveller in Italy must often have noticed the difference in the shape of the battlements that nowadays add so much to the picturesqueness of old towers and half-ruined fortress walls. No doubt he has heard the term "Guelph" or "Ghibelline" applied to them. It is supposed that "Welf" and "Waiblingen" were first used in Germany as battle-cries at the conflict of Weinsberg in 1140. When the struggle for the imperial throne between Philip of Swabia and Otto of Brunswick was hanging in the balance, the sympathies of Brescia, Milan, and other Lombard cities were enlisted on the side of Otto the Welf. In the subsequent feuds between the Pope's party and the Emperor's it became a necessity for the inhabitants of the cities of the northern part of the peninsula, if they wished to exist at all, to favour either one side or the other. The Guelph party were for the Pope, and the Ghibelline were partisans of the Emperor. And thus we find in the history of most of these towns an espousal, as policy dictated, of the Pope's cause at one time, and of the Emperor's some decades later. This apparent inconsistency was the outcome of family feuds within the city walls. For a term of years the Guelphic nobles might be in the ascendant, until, on the death or murder of a leading member, they succumbed to the prowess of the imperial party. The great families that pinned their faith to the ascendency of the latter adopted the swallow-tailed battlement on the towers of their castle walls, to distinguish them from the square-shaped that were already in existence. Italy throughout the middle ages was torn by internecine strife which was reflected throughout every class of society, and the subject of this chapter was no exception. Owning allegiance to the Pope, the Bolognese overran Romagna and forced the towns of that province to declare for the Church. In 1249 they defeated the Modenese at Fossalto and took King Enzio prisoner. For two-and-twenty years—in fact, for the rest of his life—they kept the unhappy man confined in the Palace of the Podestà, treated however, as we should treat a first-class misdemeanant, and according to his rank. The long-drawn-out feuds of the Lambertazzi and Gieremei families, and later on those between the great Visconti and Bentivoglio, kept the Bolognese in a perpetual state of faction fights, which lasted until the warlike Pontiff Julius II. annexed the city to the States of the Church.

To go back to its earliest days, we learn that the Etruscan king, Felsina, founded a city in 984 B.C. where Bologna now stands. He gave it his own name, and made it the chief of his twelve Etruscan cities. Bologna can thus, with legitimate pride, point to a history approaching three thousand years. We find it to-day a typical modern place, with just enough of the middle ages left to make it one of the most desirable of all North Italian cities. It possesses hardly a street which is not arcaded; and the thought arises: "How admirably adapted for street fighting were these sheltered walks in the days when one half of the town was at strife with the other!" In the oldest parts of the city the streets are tortuous and narrow. Arcades in such streets would be just the very best cover for raiders to steal along at night; and such must have been the terror of the inhabitants during centuries of discord that there is scarcely a house which has any windows opening into the arcades, and those that do are heavily barred. Walking through these streets, silent witnesses of bloody feuds and severe fights, one cannot suppress the feeling that the old quarters of Bologna are full of mystery, and it does not require much imagination to see the Visconti party creeping along in the shadowed ways for an attack on their hereditary foes, the Bentivoglio.

So much for the thoughts awakened by Bologna's narrow thoroughfares. Its chief open square is the Piazza Maggiore, as fine an old Italian square as can be found anywhere. The celebrated Fontana de Nettuno is in the centre. A nude bronze statue of the god by Giovanni da Bologna stands eight feet high, in a somewhat repellent attitude, above the pedestal and basin. It is always the centre of a lounging crowd which throngs the square throughout the day. On the west side of the Piazza is the Palazzo Pubblico, with a façade that still retains, despite restoration, traces of eight elegant pointed windows. A figure of the Virgin in terra-cotta, once gilded, stands under a good canopy high up on the empty space of the great wall of the façade. These comparatively empty wall spaces are a feature of Bolognese architecture of the thirteenth century. Pierced by a few windows, they give a great idea of solidity and strength; and though one finds the same character in the palaces of Tuscan cities, it is not so prominent there as in the big buildings of Bologna. An immense entrance gateway opens into a courtyard, and from this a very fine staircase by Bramante leads up to the interior. In a smaller court beyond is a very beautiful cistern by Terribilia. The Hall of Hercules, so called from the colossal statue by Alfonso Lombardo, vies with the Sala Farnese in splendour. Up to the year 1848 the palace was the residence of the Legate and the Senator. The lower portion is now the chief post office of the city.

On the north side of the Piazza is the Palazzo del Podestà. It is a building that was begun at the commencement of the thirteenth century, but not until the year 1485 was the façade erected. Of magnificent proportions, it is chiefly famous as the prison of King Enzio. The great saloon is still called the Sala del Re Enzio, and among other vicissitudes was at one time a theatre, and at another the court in which the national game of pallone was played. A solid-looking and lofty tower, the Torrazzo dell' Aringo, rises at one end of the façade above the arcades. On the piers which carry the arches of these may still be seen the huge wrought-iron brackets, the rings, and the sockets for supporting banner poles and holding lighted torches.

Along the east side of this part of the Piazza which is L-shaped, is the Portico de' Banchi, a continuous arcade, extending beyond the limits of the square the whole length of Bologna's great church. This, the church that the Bolognese in their pride intended should be the largest in Italy, has not been completed beyond the commencement of the transepts. The nave and aisles alone are finished; they are three hundred and eighty-four feet long, and the width, including the chapels, measures one hundred and fifty. The building is proportionately high, and, as will be seen in the illustration, is very spacious. It was commenced in 1390 and dedicated to S. Petronio. The architect, Antonio Vincenzi, was one of the celebrated Riformati, and went as ambassador to the Venetian Republic in 1396.

The Piazza Maggiore slopes downwards from the south. S. Petronio is situated at its southern end, and orientates south by west. The façade therefore faces north-east, and for the construction of a level floor the great church is placed at this end some dozen steps above the sloping Piazza. In the museum attached to S. Petronio there may be seen the original designs, elevations, and a model of the finished structure. Had funds permitted, this façade, placed so well, and with such magnificent buildings surrounding it, would have been one of the best Italian attempts to realise a Gothic church. As it is, it is a grand scheme unfulfilled.

The lower portion of the façade is extremely good, the three canopied doorways being pure Italian Gothic. They are adorned with bas-reliefs which represent different scriptural events from the Creation onwards. Tribolo, an intimate friend of Benvenuto Cellini, was responsible for the beautiful angels and sibyls round the arch of that on the left hand. The fine bas-relief of the Resurrection in the lunette, where Christ is seen among sleeping soldiers, is by Alfonso Lombardi. The central portal is considered the masterpiece of Jacopo della Quercia, who was not overpaid by the three thousand golden florins he received for the work, considering that it took him twelve years to complete. His noble figure of the Almighty, surrounded by thirty-two patriarchs and prophets, is extremely fine. The right-hand doorway is another example of Tribolo's purity of style. The brickwork of the exterior is covered, round the whole church at the base, by a very fine base-table of white marble with good mouldings. In the model the entire brick surface is hidden by the same material. The buttresses are good, and so are the pointed windows of the aisles, some of which, by the way, contain good glass.

The interior is very lofty and expansive. Twelve immense piers carry the arches of the nave, twenty-four smaller ones those of the aisles. The height of all these may be judged from the illustration, wherein also the peculiar Italian Gothic capital is seen. Milan's great cathedral and S. Anastasia in Verona are other specimens of the same style of capital. They appear to be stuck on to the columns, of which they seem to form a part, rather than a separate cap for the arches to rest on. One hardly knows how this particular style grew or where it emanated, but it is not unlike the palm-leaf capital of an Egyptian column. The aisles are rather shallow for the width of the nave. The side chapels are shut off from them by good metal grilles or beautiful marble screens. Four very ancient black pillars with crosses engraved stand against four of the aisle piers. They are supposed to have been placed at the gates of old Bologna by S. Petronio himself, and are much venerated by the Bolognese. On the floor of the church is traced the celebrated meridian line of Gian Domenico Cassini. Under the immense canopy which stands over the high altar Charles V. was crowned in 1530 by Pope Clement VII. The Emperor had been invited to Italy by the last of the Ducal House of Sforza, and with his coronation commenced the foreign occupation of North Italy.

Bologna's cathedral is dedicated to S. Pietro. It is situated in the Via dell' Indipendenza, but is so wedged in between the high buildings which adjoin it on both sides that it is difficult to find. S. Pietro is a huge barn-like edifice commenced in the bad period of 1605. It is a very ancient foundation with no redeeming architectural features. The most interesting thing it contains is Ludovico Carracci's celebrated "Annunciation." After the scaffolding had been removed on the completion of the work which is over the arch above the high altar, Carracci discovered some bad drawing in one of the figures. He died soon after this—from grief, so the story goes, as the authorities would not permit him to re-erect it at his own cost and remedy the defect.

The church of S. Stefano, or rather the seven different edifices which are thus named, occupies the site of a temple of Isis. It stands below the level of the little Piazza de S. Stefano, and on its exterior wall is one of the open-air pulpits not uncommon in Italy. The first church, called Il Crocifisso, is of the sixteenth century and not interesting. From a door in the north wall one goes down half a dozen steps into the second church of the Santo Sepolcro. This is a circular building, supposed to have been the old baptistery. Twelve columns, brick and marble alternating, support a good Romanesque gallery under the dome. The six marble shafts came from the pagan temple. In the centre is a grand altar-pulpit, which has a stairway leading up on either side. Under the altar is an urn which at one time held the remains of S. Petronio. On the stone floor a shutter of iron covers the well that possesses miraculous properties, these having been imparted to it by the saint. The church dates from the tenth century. An iron grille in one of the walls shuts off the oldest church of all, a basilica of the fourth century. It is dedicated to SS. Paolo e Pietro. Forty-eight columns with Byzantine and Greek capitals support the brick barrel vault of the nave. This is dimly lighted by small round clerestory windows. The altar stands in the tribune at the top of much-worn limestone steps. This also has a brick vault. At the end of the narrow aisles are the sarcophagi of S. Agricola and S. Vitalis—Bologna's S. Vitalis. The next church, if it may be so called, is formed by the small court known as the Atrio di Pilato. It has never been touched since the eleventh century, and contains a very ancient font. Down more steps is the church of the Confessio. This old crypt must be a good twenty feet below the level outside. The quadripartite vaulting is borne by thick stunted columns that are barely five feet high, though one is said to be the exact height of Christ. It is very dark, and dates from the tenth century. The sixth church is the passage which leads to the seventh and last, that of the Trinity. Four rows of columns with Byzantine and Romanesque capitals support the roof of this square building. In one of the chapels, in a galleried niche, there is an extraordinary life-sized wooden group of the Adoration of the Magi. Mary wears a crown of brass studded with uncut stones. On the Child's head is a mitre of the same. The expressive faces of the Three Kings, who bring offerings, are extremely naïve. The first wears the conical hat of the ancient shepherds of the hills of Venetia that one still comes across in out-of-the-way districts.

The adjoining cloisters of the suppressed Celestine monastery are remarkable in the solidity of the short pillars, not four feet high, which form the lower colonnade. These are in absolute contradistinction to the elegant double shafts of the upper gallery. The brickwork throughout the whole of S. Stefano is very good. Concentric patterns, squares, chequer work where small squares of marble and glazed tiles have been introduced, diamonds, and oblongs are arranged in a perfect harmony of design the like of which one cannot find in Italy. The exterior of S. Sepolcro is, in this respect, unsurpassed.

Bologna's university is one of the oldest in Italy, and the first in which academical degrees were conferred. It was founded in 1119 by Irnerius. Numerous schools were established in the West after Byzantine authority had faded away. Among the first was that of Bologna, where Pepo began to expound the law in 1075. Irnerius followed him five-and-twenty years later and introduced the Justinian code. His followers became known as Glossatori, a word derived from the Greek γλὡσσα, originally meaning a tongue. The last of these glossators was Accursius, who compiled the glossæ known as the "Glossa ordinaria," a work which soon became the acknowledged authority. The visitor who wanders through the city and finds himself in the market-square will there see outside the church of S. Francesco three canopied tombs. The sarcophagi which rest on a platform borne by pillars are those of three Glossatori, and one of them contains the remains of Accursius. The canopies of these tombs are covered with green tiles. S. Francesco is a fine Gothic church with two elegant campanili. It is undergoing extensive restoration, and, though of some architectural interest, does not compare in other ways with that of S. Domenico.

This church, wherein repose the remains of the founder of the Order of Preaching Friars or Dominicans, was begun with the intention of following the prevailing fashion of the day and constructing another Gothic fabric. Except for the pointed windows in some of the chapels, S. Domenico bears no traces of this intention. The interior of white marble, in a medley of styles in which poor Renaissance predominates, is very cold. The exterior has a very heavy frieze of white marble; the commencement of its outer covering carried no further than this. It is seen in the sketch, which also shows the canopied tomb of the learned jurist, Rolandino Passageri, who was selected by the city to frame the reply to the letter in which the Emperor Frederick II. demanded the release of his illegitimate son Enzio. In the church lie Guido Reni, whose tomb is in the chapel shown with the heavy frieze, and his talented fellow-artist Elisabetta Sirani, King Enzio, Taddeo Pepoli, Captain of the People in 1334, and the great S. Dominick.

Born in Old Castile in 1170, S. Dominick was ordained priest in 1198. His fiery zeal against "heretics" and his extraordinary preaching powers soon brought him into great prominence. He was instrumental in establishing courts for trial and punishment of obstinate "heretics." The commissioners, who were invested with a jurisdiction that gave them powers of torture, and life and death, were known as "Inquisitors," and their conclaves paved the way for the dreaded Inquisition. S. Dominick's tomb is one of the finest in North Italy. It is one of the earliest works that the genius of Niccolò Pisano produced, having been completed thirty years before his masterpiece at Pisa was begun. A magnificent iron grille separates the chapel from the nave. On the top rail are four very charming little figures in bronze of saints. The tomb is adorned by bas-reliefs illustrating the chief events in the life of the saint. Below these is a very delicately carved set of smaller ones by Alfonso Lombardi, which form a sort of predella, and are nearly three hundred years later. The urn which contains the saint's remains is behind the upper set. A small statue of S. Petronio in front is by Michael Angelo, and the best of the beautiful little angels at the corners claims the same hand as its sculptor. Cherubs at the top of the monument hold two very heavy festoons of flowers, which somewhat mar the fine composition of the whole. From this it is evident that the exuberance of Pisano's youth had yet to learn the reticence which comes with age.

No description of Bologna would be complete without mention of its wonderful towers. The graceful Torre Asinelli rises to a height of three hundred and twenty-one feet, and, although nearly four feet out of the perpendicular, tapers upwards so imperceptibly that the inclination is not noticeable. Close by it stands the Torre Garisenda, built by the two brothers Garisenda. It leans ten feet in one direction and three in another, and rises to a height of one hundred and sixty feet. Although the guide-books tell one it was thus constructed, it has undoubtedly sunk into its position, as the different stages inside slope with the inclination of the tower. These two are not the only towers of Bologna, but, being situated in the centre of the oldest quarters of the city, are those that are best known.

PARMA

PARMA is very much like any other of the smaller cities of Italy. It can however boast of a prehistoric lake-dwelling settlement, unearthed in 1864, and a still later, though very early origin as an Etruscan colony. To-day it is a bright little place pleasantly situated on the broad stream that gave it its name. If it were not, however, for its cathedral, its ancient baptistery, and its inseparable connection with the art of Correggio, there would be but little to interest the stranger or even call for a halt at its railway station. Four bridges span the river Parma, and from each the blue line of the Apennines may be seen stretching away over the tops of the orchards until lost in the distant haze. The old Roman road, the Via Æmilia, which we have already seen started out of Rimini, bisects Parma from east to west, and crosses the river by a fine old bridge, the Ponte de Mezzo. This is the only structure of the four which can lay claim to any age. It has a narrow roadway inclining up to the centre with high parapets on either side, and partakes very much of the character of a Roman edifice. Except for a few inscribed slabs there is nothing of any consequence left to remind one that the pleasant little city of to-day was once a flourishing colony of Imperial Rome. In the Guelph and Ghibelline feuds it espoused the Pope's cause and successfully withstood a siege by Frederick II. In 1341 it came into the hands of the Visconti, Dukes of Milan, and was associated with that duchy for two hundred years. Pope Julius II. incorporated it with the Papal States, and thirty years after this the reigning Pope, Paul III., gave it to his natural son Pietro Luigi Farnese. This family supplied seven dukes to Parma where they reigned until the male line became extinct in the year 1731. The Bourbons came into possession of the duchy through Marie Louise, and with the assassination in the public thoroughfare of Duke Charles III., its history may be said to have come to an end.

The cathedral and baptistery, with the ecclesiastical buildings which form the square in which they stand, make a group of much interest. The first named is a very fine example of Romanesque work. It was commenced in 1058, but not consecrated until fifty years later, nor really completed till the middle of the thirteenth century. The façade is however entirely the original design.

Two rows of arcades traverse its length; the lower is on a level with and carried through the upper portion of the central porch. A third follows the line of the gable under a heavy cornice. The porch is similar to the one illustrated of Verona's cathedral. Two colossal lions bear the burden of the double canopies and were the work of Bono da Bisone. The sun is sculptured on the keystone of the arch, and in the soffits the months are illustrated by a series of reliefs of agricultural pursuits, as in S. Mark's at Venice. A good many Roman tablets have been used as decoration and for building material along the whole façade. Two other doors, as well as the central portal, give entrance to the church. The only other feature of the exterior worth mention is the beautiful red brick campanile with its green tiled spire.

The first impression one receives of the interior is that of extreme solemnity and great majesty. It never wears off. The high altar, a blaze of silver and gilt, stands well placed eighteen steps above the nave. The transepts also are thus situated, and there is enough length in the seven bays that separate the aisles from the nave to put the choir well back from the spectator as he enters at the west door. From the high altar the eye instinctively travels upwards to the spandrils in the drum of the dome where part of Correggio's grand frescoes are seen. The fourteen fluted columns of the nave are quadrangular. Seven have Corinthian capitals and seven are Romanesque with traces of Byzantine origin in the figures, beasts and birds which form the volutes. Some of these are peacocks with curling outstretched necks; others are the heads and upper limbs of human figures. The triforium gallery has elegant pillars in pairs, that support round arches. The clerestory is placed very high. The vaulting of the nave is peculiar, it is elliptical. The whole of the walls are covered with frescoes by Lattanzio Gambara and Girolamo Mazzuola, who was a pupil of Parmigianino. A frieze is above the capitals of the fluted pilasters that support the arch of the choir and runs on into the transepts. It is symbolical of the strength of the Church. Lions are seen here hunting antelopes, deer, and other animals; that is, the Church is chasing away all evil doers.

The crypt under the choir is architecturally interesting, as it shows in some of the capitals of its thirty-eight columns the evolution from pure Byzantine to Lombardo-Romanesque work. But perhaps it will be the frescoes in the dome that draw visitors to this fine church rather than its architectural features. In the decoration of this Correggio surpassed himself in his mastery of chiaroscuro and the foreshortening of the human figure. The "Assumption of the Virgin," though very adversely criticised when finished, and now greatly injured by damp and neglect, is still one of the grandest paintings of its sort extant.

Almost adjoining the south-west corner of the cathedral, and built on sloping ground, stands Parma's celebrated baptistery. It was begun in the year 1196, from designs by Benedetto Antelami. The construction was for many years very spasmodic, and wholly ceased when the bloodthirsty Ezzelino da Romana governed North Italy for Frederick II. in the thirteenth century, and forbade the inhabitants to quarry any more marble. At his death it was pushed on, and in the end finished towards the close of that century, a date which accounts for the pointed arches at the top of the interior. It is built of Verona marble, and is an octagon with three arched portals, on which are some very interesting sculptures of Old Testament history. Jacob, out of whom grows a tree in the branches of which are his brothers with Moses at the top, is on one side of the north door. Another tree, with David and Solomon and the Prophets, is a pendant on the other. The south doorway is decorated in a similar style, but the trees are full of all the birds apparently then known. Barn-door fowls, storks, parrots, eagles, ducks, and peacocks, &c. &c., find a place in this extraordinary aviary in stone. Signs of the Zodiac form a sort of frieze on the lower portions of the eight sides of the exterior. Four tiers of columns forming open galleries support a continuous architrave, which, whatever the architectural merits, is not artistically a pleasing arrangement. The interior is sixteen-sided. Between each division a long marble shaft is carried from its base on the floor right up to the converging ribs of the pointed vaulting. The whole of the walls and vault are covered with frescoes. The upper are early, and appear to be almost contemporaneous with the finishing of the building. The lower bear the names of Niccolo da Reggio and Bartolino da Piacenza, and are of fourteenth-century date. The Life of John the Baptist naturally takes precedence in these interesting examples of mural decoration. The huge font in the centre of the baptistery is cut out of a single block of marble. It has a centre compartment like that already described in S. Giovanni in Fonte, in Verona. The registers of the baptistery go back as far as the year 1459, since when it is known that all the babies born in Parma have been received into the Faith within its walls.

The church of S. Lodovico, also called S. Paolo, was formerly attached to a Benedictine nunnery. Correggio's celebrated series of pagan frescoes cover the walls of the "parlour" of the nunnery. They were executed to the order of the abbess, Giovanna da Piacenza, and are more fitted for a "Trianon" than a convent. Minerva, Juno, Bacchus, and other heathen gods and goddesses, with Cupids, and such-like profanities, are most charmingly arranged amidst a lattice pattern of flowers and foliage. At the period, the beginning of the sixteenth century, when this dainty scheme was painted, great licence and irregularities prevailed in some of these conventual establishments. The abbess and her nuns often entered into all the gaieties of the outside world and indulged in the vices pertaining to it. In this case the wrath of the austere Adrian VI. was visited on Giovanna and her flock, and S. Paolo was closed, the abbess dying within a month after this humiliation.

GENOA

THE poet Tasso in his "Jerusalem Delivered" sings of the exploits of the great commander of the First Crusade; and although Godfrey de Bouillon had little to do with Genoa, it was from its port that his fleet spread sail in 1096 and disappeared over the southern horizon on its way to the Holy Land. Nearly three years had passed in hard fighting before Godfrey and his army found themselves before the walls of Jerusalem. Meanwhile the Second Crusade had started from Genoa, under the command of Guglielmo Embrianco. He joined forces with De Bouillon, and the Holy City fell to their arms on July 15, 1099. Embrianco covered himself with glory; and on his return, among other treasures, brought home the celebrated Sacro Catino, which he presented to his native city. This dish of green glass is in the Cathedral. For centuries it was supposed to have been fashioned from a single emerald, and tradition has it as the very dish, the Holy Grail, which held the Paschal Lamb at the Last Supper.

The port of Genoa is very different now to what it was in those early days. Ships of all nationalities and every sort of build find refuge behind the numerous breakwaters which protect them from every gale that blows. The Molo Vecchio is the oldest of these shelters, and built upon half its length is an old quarter that is one of the fast-vanishing slums of the city. On the sea-ward side of this mole the Mura della Malapaga frowns on incoming craft, just as when in days gone by it bid defiance to the enemies of Genoa whose temerity had led them thus far in attacks on the city. It is terminated by a grand sea-gateway of very massive construction. At the end of a subsequent extension the old lighthouse rises, now well within the port. The house still stands in the old quarter in which Marco Polo was imprisoned after the defeat of the Pisans at the battle of Curzola, when he was taken captive. The Molo Nuovo stretches from the west side of the port near the tall Pharo, and, running outwards, bends back and covers the Molo Vecchio from the southerly gales.

Genoa's quays present a busy picture with the endless traffic that makes her the premier port of Italy. Strings of heavily laden carts drawn by teams of great mules are continually passing to and fro. Cabs rattle on the pavements, their drivers cracking their whips, the horses' heads decorated with the long tail feathers of the Amherst pheasant that dance about to the music of the harness-bells. Groups of boys play pitch and toss with coins, and still cry "Croce e Griffo" ("Cross or Gryphon"), a cry as old as the wars with Pisa. Itinerant pedlars pester folk to buy what no one seems to want. Under the arcades that face the sea-front shops of all sorts exhibit everything the seafarer can possibly require, and a lively business goes on in restuffing the emigrants' mattresses with dry sea-weed or hay. Up, behind all this, narrow streets wind through the old parts of the city and form an intricate maze wherein it is not difficult to miss one's way. Many of the houses here are seven, eight, or nine storeys high. All the day's washing—and every day is washing day—hangs out from the windows on long bamboos, or flutters from a cord stretched across the confined thoroughfares. Fowls, in their inquisitive endeavours to find food, try to satiate an appetite which is never satisfied. They are all scraggy. Dark courtyards at the bottom of these tall dwellings teem with screaming children and scolding women who are engaged at the fountain troughs with the washing. The ear-splitting cries of hawkers hasten one's footsteps down the steep descents, and one dodges out of their way only to lose oneself in vain attempts to leave the picturesque but squalid quarters of old Genoa.

However fascinating these slums may be—and they can hold their own from the painter's point of view with those in any other Mediterranean port—it must be acknowledged that the palaces for which Genoa is justly famous have hardly a rival. Historically the most interesting is the Palazzo di S. Giorgio, which stands close to the quayside at the east end of the Piazza Caricamento. It was erected in 1261 by Guglielmo Boccanegra, Captain of the People, for his own residence. At his death it was taken over as the government office for the registration of public loans, or compere, and named the Palazzo della Compere. In 1407 the Banking Company which practically ruled commercial Genoa acquired it as their headquarters, and its name was changed to that of the city's patron saint. This bank was the oldest in the world. It originated after the Genoese had driven the Venetians out of Constantinople, and so crippled the trade of their great Adriatic rival that for a time they were masters of nearly all the Eastern commerce that flowed westwards. This increase in prosperity was to a great extent the cause of the formation of a trading company, which accepted deposits and advanced loans to others than its own members. Thus was founded a bank that carried on its business successfully until the last Doge of Genoa was unseated and the mushroom Republic of Liguria proclaimed. The bank's property was then confiscated, and Genoa, governed by time-servers and place-hunters, fell upon evil days.

The Palazzo has been much altered and restored, but retains some of the original Genoese Gothic of Boccanegra's building. The Grand Hall on the first floor contains many statues of the city's benefactors and prominent men, and is an interesting epitome of their charities, which are commemorated on tablets attached to each. Some of these statues are seated, others are standing. The former are of men who purchased their niche in this Temple of Fame by payment of one hundred thousand livres to the state; while those who wished to be handed down to posterity at a cheaper rate had to content themselves with effigies that for ever are on two legs. The building is now the Customs House, and so once more money passes through different hands within its walls.

There are no other streets in Italy which can boast such an array of noble houses as the renamed Strada Nuova, now the Via Garibaldi, and the Via Balbi. The Palazzo Rosso has a magnificent sala that has a roof decorated with the armorial bearings of the Brignole family and those they intermarried with. The Municipality is now lodged in the Palazzo Doria Tursi. It has a grand façade flanked by open arcades with gardens on top, and was built for one of the Grimaldi by Rocco Lurago, a Como architect. Christopher Columbus was born in Genoa, and a bust of him stands in the great hall of the palace, the Sala della Giunta. In its pedestal are some of his autograph letters to the Banco di S. Giorgio. His family came from Piacenza, but at the time of his birth his father was warden of the Porto dell' Olivella, one of the city gates. The Palazzo Ducale, a huge building of mixed styles, was begun in the thirteenth century but not finished until the sixteenth. The Palazzo Durazzo has a grand vestibule and the finest staircase of all. The Palazzo Doria, standing alone in a delightful garden which extends towards the harbour, is beautified by a good loggia with arcades. Many are the palaces built by the great families of Genoa, the Spinola, Pallavicini, Balbi, Fieschi, Cambiasco, and others, as well as those already mentioned. They all contain large collections of pictures and other treasures, and it can certainly be said that the old nobility have left a hall-mark on their city. The earlier buildings all possessed towers, and during the Guelph and Ghibelline feuds, when street fighting was ever recurrent, these vantage positions were of immense strategic value—it was so pleasant to put the opposing faction hors de combat by pouring boiling pitch and molten lead on to the heads below! Street fighting became at length such a nuisance to the peaceable inhabitants that the order went forth that all towers were to be demolished, with one exception, the tower that Guglielmo Embrianco attached to his house. This alone was spared. And it is due to the veneration in which his name was held that it stands to-day the solitary defensive relic of Genoa's family feuds. It will be noticed that some of these palaces are faced, like the Cathedral, with bands of black and white marble. This distinction was granted to the four noble houses of Doria and Spinola, who were adherents of the Pope, and Fieschi and Grimaldi, who took the Emperor's side in all wars.

The Cathedral is a good example of what may be termed Genoese Gothic. It is dedicated to S. Lorenzo, and was consecrated by Pope Gelasius II. in 1118. The façade, separated into three unequal parts, is a good example of thirteenth-century Gothic. The piazza on to which it faces slopes sharply downhill—all Genoa is up and down hill—and the Cathedral rises well on its tier of steps. Bands of black and white form the exterior wall of the whole building, and are effectively carried through the recesses of the portals. The centre porch has twisted columns, which are carried round the splay of the arch. The columns themselves alternate with others that are circular. The bases and pedestals are covered either with carving or inlaid chequer and lozenge patterns. The two flanking porches are similar, and assist very greatly to increase the pleasing effect of this somewhat elaborate treatment, which is heightened by the two detached spiral columns on either side and those that terminate the façade at each end. In the tympanum over the central doorway is a figure of S. Lawrence lying nude on a gridiron. The fire beneath is stoked and kept alive by bellows handled by those who assisted at his martyrdom. Above is a figure of the Almighty surrounded by an angel, a lion, a peacock, and a deer. The detached column at the south-west angle of the façade, seen in the illustration, carries a figure of the patron saint under a canopy. It rests on the back of a lion; four smaller beasts of the same species encircle the base. The two huge couchant lions at either end of the steps are of much later date than these. From the south-west angle a fine turreted tower rises upwards from the square, and with its copper dome forms a great feature of the Cathedral as one walks up the Strada Carlo Felice. This street is narrow and full of traffic, so much so that it is with difficulty one makes out the many mutilated tablets with Roman inscriptions, built haphazard into the south wall of the Cathedral, and the canopied mediæval tombs let in above.

The interior of the building is disappointing. One expects to find more space. A gallery at the west end, under which you find yourself directly upon entering, forms a sort of atrium. It is supported by very massive clustered columns which carry a good groined vault with heavy ribs. This was originally the cantoria, or organ-loft. Nine small bays on either side separate the nave from the aisles. The single columns of the arches are of red and purple marble from the renowned quarries at Tortosa, in Spain. At each corner of the black marble bases, and touching the torus of the column, the head of a bird or animal has been carved. The arches of the bays are pointed. Above them is an open triforium formed by rows of small stunted arches that are carried by single and clustered columns in banded black and white. The clerestory is of small narrow single lights. The transepts are Renaissance, and the choir a mixture of styles.

The chapel of St. John the Baptist in the north aisle bears a resemblance to that of "Il Santo" at Padua. Four slender carved pillars support the entablature of good Renaissance design, on which are exceptionally well arranged panels illustrating the saint's life. Filippo Doria erected the canopy borne by porphyry columns which stands over the altar. Under this, enclosed in an iron casket within a marble ark, on which are sculptured reliefs, are the remains of St. John.

Genoa's fleet was homeward bound after one of the crusades, when, through stress of weather, it took shelter in the port of Myrra, in Lycia. Hearing that a monastery close by contained the sacred remains of the saint, some of the bolder spirits of the fleet entered the church attached, and, despite the protests of their co-religionists, carried off in triumph all that remained of St. John. The relics were presented to their own Cathedral of S. Lorenzo on arriving home. Here they have rested ever since. No women are admitted into the chapel—a prohibition imposed by Pope Innocent VIII. in remembrance of the guilt of Herodias. The Treasury holds many things of value and interest besides the Sacro Catino already described. Among them is a fine piece of Byzantine much-bejewelled metal work known as the Cross of Zaccaria. It was carried off from Phocea by Ticino Zaccaria at the capture of that place.

The church of S. Bartolommeo degli Armeni contains the celebrated picture on a cloth of the head of Christ. It was given to one of the Montaldi, a noble Genoese family, by John Paleologus, Emperor of Constantinople, in return for important services rendered. The legend runs that Agbarus, King of Edessa, sent an artist, Annanias by name, to paint our Lord's portrait. Annanias was no portrait painter, and failed in the attempt. Our Lord then took a cloth, pressed it to His face, and sent the impression back to the King. Leonardo Montaldo bequeathed it to the church in 1382.

The church of S. Donato, with its Romanesque tower that was built into the walls of Genoa forming one of its defences, dates from the eleventh century. There are many other ecclesiastical fabrics in a place which is fast losing all traces of old associations. Of the three sets of walls built at different times as the city slowly enlarged itself, the outer alone bears any semblance of its pristine state, and modern Genoa, with up-to-date improvements, is encroaching on these. But for all this its situation is superb, and it is in every way a bright and charming place. To those who enter by rail it is impossible to grasp the incomparable position the city occupies. Coming in along the Cornice road from the west, or that from the east, it can be better realised. But the best approach is by sea. The long line of distant mountains that first appears on the horizon gradually opens up, peak rises beyond peak, the nearer hills become detached, valleys are revealed, and soon white houses may be discerned dotting the dark grey slopes. A long, broken array of villages fringes the blue waters, gathering closer together as land is approached. The mass of warm yellowish tint scintillating in the brilliancy of a Mediterranean sun takes shape, and the eye by degrees separates long terraced rows of buildings, church towers and domes from one another. The colour changes, and a heterogeneous combination of pink, white, yellow, and grey discloses the far-famed city rising tier above tier from the busy port that lies at its base. A whistle sounds, the rattling cable rushes out, the anchor plunges into the water, and our ship is at rest. We are in the historic port from which the First Crusade started, and from which not so long ago the patriot Garibaldi, with the friendly aid of Rubattino, sailed with his devoted thousand for Sicily.

PISA

YOU will not find in all Italy anything that is placed quite so well with an eye to effective grouping as the Baptistery, Cathedral, and Campanile of Pisa. Nowhere does anything approach so near to the ecclesiastical exclusiveness of an English cathedral close as the great square of level green sward in which these three remarkable fabrics stand. From one corner of the Piazza del Duomo part of the university buildings looks over the turf to the Baptistery. Hard by the seat of learning is the Porta Nuova, a fine gateway that pierces the old walls of the city—walls of an almost unpaintable red. Within the walls, on the other side of the Cathedral—that is, to the north—the Campo Santo stands with bare façade and domed tower. Adjoining it on the east, conventual buildings and the Palace of the Archbishop occupy the angle of the Piazza. They face the Campanile. The one or two establishments which come next as we continue our giro are full of little marble "Leaning Towers" and other souvenirs which the tourist delights in. Save for the intrusiveness of these shops, there is nothing else in the surroundings of the vast square that detracts from the fascination of the wonderful group in the centre.

The Pisa of to-day cannot have changed much from the Pisa of two hundred years ago. It is true that, outside the old walls which encircle her, a straggling suburb is growing up, but within them noble palaces still front the River Arno, and others occupy the best positions in the city. Dwellings of the poorer classes line the narrow streets that connect the wider and more spacious thoroughfares; they crowd thickly together, and the life of the pavements is the life of Italy as the tourist loves to find it—the life of days gone by.

It has been said that all roads lead to Rome; in Pisa all roads lead to the Piazza del Duomo. In the centre stands the Cathedral; to the west of it, the Baptistery; to the east rises the Campanile, or Leaning Tower. Pisa had well-nigh reached the zenith of her power when in 1063 her people resolved to commemorate a great victory over the Saracens by building a new cathedral. Ninety years later, having destroyed their Southern rival Amalfi, the Pisans commenced the Baptistery. The year 1174 saw the first stone of the Campanile laid. Thus in a little over one hundred years these three buildings, which mark so important an epoch in Italian ecclesiastical architecture, were under construction. The advent of a man of unknown origin, Busketus, who designed the Cathedral, and whose epitaph is on one of its walls, heralded a new phase in the art of the country. And although he adapted something from the Romanesque, this grand church of his was the precursor of a style that we find amplified, but not improved upon, in Ferrara, Pavia, Parma, and, most notably of all, in the neighbouring city of Lucca. In the history of Italian ecclesiastical architecture Pisa stands pre-eminent.

The façade of the Cathedral is very striking. The seven round arches of the blind arcade that form the lowest tier or base are continued round the entire fabric. The pedestals from which the columns of this arcade spring rest on a bold but simple base-table that also encircles the building. These columns are round on the façade, the eastern apse, and the apse at the end of each transept, but become pilasters elsewhere. This extremely good arrangement does not break up the flat walls by too many obtrusive perpendicular lines. On the contrary, it enhances their noble length, and at the same time improves the semicircle of the apses. Three bronze doors occupy three arches of the façade arcade. They are good examples of the seventeenth century. Crude mosaics in the tympanums above are a jarring colour note which one would willingly suppress. It is otherwise, however, with the wonderful patterns of inlaid marble and the rich ornamentation of vine-leaves and floral forms, human heads and animals, that embellish the whole façade—a character of decoration that finds a fitting terminal in the crockets on the gables and the figures at their ends. Above the arcade four deeply recessed galleries fill the whole space of the façade. The lowest of these is on a level with the clerestory lights in the aisles. The next is cut off at either end by the angle of the gable; the columns diminish in size with the slope of the aisle roof. The third is in a line with the clerestory of the nave, and the topmost diminishes with the gable, which is carried beyond and above the ridge of the roof of the nave. The slender pillars that support the arches of these galleries have wonderfully carved capitals, and stand out in the brilliant afternoon sun from the deep shadow behind with marvellous effect.

One enters the Cathedral by the south and only door which escaped the great conflagration of 1596. Its bronze panels are by Bonannus, who has handed down twenty-four episodes of Gospel history in the very ingenuous style of his time. A lead-covered penthouse wards off the inclemency of the weather. The fine cupola which rises above the crossing is rather dwarfed by the Gothic arcade and finials which surround its base. The grand effect of the Cathedral is due in a measure to the mellowing of the white marble, which the sun has seemingly baked to a beautiful warm yellow and light red. On the north side, which is exposed to the bitter tramontana wind from the Monti Pisani, the marble is blistered and scored, and has acquired an ashen white that in this sunny land is not pleasant.

The interior is lofty. The effect obtained by the bands of black and white marble of which the walls are composed is not so embarrassing to the eye as in Siena's holy fane. The nave is divided into ten bays; the columns that support the round arches are magnificent monoliths of granite. These bays are carried in a continuous colonnade across the transepts and along their east and west walls. The aisles are double. As a consequence the forest of columns and arches is almost bewildering; and if it were not for the fine proportions of the nave, the eye would have but little rest from a multiplicity of shadows and disturbing spots of light. The pointed triforium, that is borne by the arches of the nave, is continued across the transepts into the choir. The base of the cupola at the crossing is elliptical, the length being east and west and the narrow sides north and south. The interior of the dome is covered with frescoes. The design of the six altars in each aisle is attributed to Michael Angelo. The transepts are terminated by two apsidal chapels with mosaics in the semi-domes said to be designed by Cimabue. The same origin can be more justly claimed by that which decorates the vault of the choir apse, and in which the great artist has depicted our Lord in Glory, and S. John. The pavements of the choir and crossing are exceptionally fine opus Alexandrinum. The huge bronze lamp that hangs, swinging slightly, from the coffered and gilded roof of the nave is supposed to have suggested to Galileo the idea of the principle of the pendulum.

To the west of the Cathedral is Pisa's beautiful Baptistery. This building was commenced by Diotisalvi in 1153, and continued later on in 1278. The lowest storey is of the first mentioned date, and, like the Cathedral, is composed of a blind arcade, pierced in this case with small round-headed windows. An open gallery circulates round the whole edifice above this. Its columns support round arches that are surmounted in piers by crocketed gables, pierced and cusped. A figure stands on the apex of each, while between every pair small open turrets thrust their pinnacles upwards. Above this gallery a series of windows with a similar arrangement breaks the base-line of the somewhat ugly pear-shaped dome. As a prevention against the corroding influence of the salt sea winds, this dome is tiled on its south-west surface. The other portion is covered with lead.

In the centre of the interior, generally entered by the door opposite the west façade of the Cathedral, stands the font in which baby Pisans have for many generations been baptized. Like others, it is made for total immersion. The walls which surround the appropriately "waved" black-and-white pattern of its floor are extremely beautiful. A delicately carved framework of marble encloses wonderful panels of inlaid mosaic somewhat in the style of the pulpit in the illustration to "Salerno." Six small basins are let into the walls of the font and are used now for the Holy Rite. Near the altar stands Niccolò Pisano's masterpiece. This hexagonal pulpit rests on seven slender columns of marble and granite. Some of these columns rise from their bases on the backs of lions, gryphons, and crouching human figures, thus in a way representing the dominion of the Word of God over creation. The rectangular panels of the pulpit stage are beautifully carved in high relief. Niccolò Pisano's art, which bears evident traces of pagan influence, is seen at its best in these panels of the Nativity, Adoration of the Magi, Presentation in the Temple, the Crucifixion, and Last Judgment. On the steps is a red marble pillar standing on the back of a lion. It supports a small marble book-rest from which the Epistle was read. The desk on the pulpit itself is placed on an eagle, and was used for the reading of the Gospel. Eight marble piers and eight granite columns support the gallery beneath the dome. The whole of this noble interior is very light and airy, and Pisan mothers should have more cause to hope for a bright future for their babes than their sisters in Parma, if a comparison is permissible between the bright cheeriness of the one place and the mystical gloom of the other.

The Campanile stands to the east of the Cathedral. Its base is some feet below the restful green of the grass that covers the whole of the Piazza. Four different architects carried out its erection during a period that extended over nearly two hundred years. The base, another blind arcade, was begun in 1174 by Bonannus; the fourth gallery was added by Benenato, the next two by William of Innsbrück, and the topmost by Tommaso. The foundations were unfortunately laid in sea-sand, and the tower settled at an angle that causes it to lean towards the south thirteen feet out of the perpendicular. Galileo utilised this feature for experiments on the velocity of falling bodies.

The Campo Santo, the dome of which is seen in the illustration to the right of the Cathedral, is a quiet cloistered court on the walls of which are an extraordinary series of frescoes. Those on the north wall, by the Florentine, Benozzo Gozzoli, who was a pupil of Fra Angelico, are the most interesting. The Gothic arches and slender columns of the cloister, and the well-kept garden-plot in the centre, out of which tall cypress-trees rear themselves in ordered array, add much to the dignity of this quiet spot.

The old Dominican basilica of Sta Caterina stands in a corner of the piazza of the same name. Great plane-trees almost hide from view its beautiful façade, which, like that of the Cathedral, is gabled and arranged in galleries. Here, however, these are Gothic, with trefoil cusped arches, developing in the topmost to cinquefoil, and giving an air of elegance to the whole that is lacking in the Cathedral. A comparison of the two façades ends with the opinion that while in Sta Caterina there is more grace, the Cathedral possesses more architectural fitness for the design and proportions of the outline. Diotisalvi built the little octagonal church of S. Sepolcro for the Knights Templars, and Niccolò Pisano erected the fine campanile attached to the church of S. Francesco. This tower is partly supported by consoles, or brackets, within the church. The staircase runs up both inside and outside its walls.

S. Stefano, which contains a S. George by Donatello, is close to the Carovana in the Piazza dei Cavalieri. The piazza is thought to be the old Roman forum. The Carovana was the Palace of the Knights of S. Stephen, and was another of Niccolò Pisano's works, and, although altered later on by Vasari, is a fine example of Domestic architecture. A double flight of steps leads up to the entrance-door, on either side of which are tall windows. The façade is covered with frescoes and adorned by six busts in niches of the first half-dozen Grand Dukes, Masters of the Order. The roof projects far out, and the eaves, supported by well-carved cantilevers, throw a deep shadow down the front of the palace. The Order of S. Stefano was founded in 1561 by Cosimo I., but never distinguished itself amidst the Orders of Chivalry, and was dissolved in 1869. A statue of the founder stands over a fountain in front of the steps.

Among the buildings that face the Arno, the Palazzo Lanfreducci, with the words "alla Giornata" and a chain pendant over the doorway, the Palazzo Lanfranchi, where Byron lived, and the fine old fortress-tower, the Torre Guelfa, are the most notable in a city that at one time disputed with the mighty Genoa the rule of the Mediterranean. The rivalry between these two maritime powers ended only when, after the disastrous battle of Meloria, the Genoese filled up the harbour of Pisa, and she became no longer of any account as a naval base.

LUCCA

LUCCA is one of the most delightful little cities in the peninsula, and its seventy-two churches, taken as a whole, the most interesting in Italy. In matters ecclesiastical it is one of the oldest foundations in the country, and is reputed to have been the first place to have embraced Christianity. The first bishop of Lucca, a disciple of S. Peter, was S. Paulinus, and the long line of prelates who followed him were elevated to the higher dignity of Archbishop in 1726. The canons of Lucca are mitred, and the prelate has the privilege of wearing the insignia of a cardinal. It was always a Ghibelline city; even in the days of the Countess Matilda its inhabitants sided with the imperial party. When the attempt of Francesco Burlammachi to confederate the Tuscan cities failed, the Luchesi formulated the Martiniana Law, which permitted only a few of the leading families to participate in the government. The result of this was a peace that prevailed for many years. But perhaps the most important historical event that occurred within its walls took place in far earlier days than the sixteenth century. The first triumvirate was formed when Julius Cæsar, Pompey, and the wealthy Crassus met and entered into an agreement whereby the power was divided between the three. More tangible relics of Roman occupation are to be found where the amphitheatre once stood. The oval form of this is well preserved in the extremely picturesque Piazza Mercato—the Market Place. The wooden stalls of the market folk are practically little huts with tiled roofs, that follow the lines of the amphitheatre seats in gracefully curved alleys. In the Pinacoteca may be seen a print dated 1785, in which the space is enclosed by a high wall. In the centre is a tastefully laid out garden adorned with statues and rose bushes, around which a horse race is in progress. Many columns used in the erection of churches, and fragments of all sorts built into the walls, are evidences of Lucca's importance among the colonies of ancient Rome.

The cathedral was founded as early as 573 by S. Frediano. The first building was close to the present Duomo, and was erected on the site of the church of S. Giovanni—a very interesting Lombard edifice. The square baptistery attached to S. Giovanni, with its original waved black and white pavement and ancient square font, is well worthy of study. Pope Alexander II., who supplied William of Normandy with a holy banner to assist in the invasion of England, consecrated the cathedral, which, although much altered in the fourteenth century, still bears the impress of the architectural vogue of the tenth. The façade was added in 1204 by Giudetto. A portico of three unequal arches supports three tiers of small arches. These form galleries diminishing in length as they rise one above the other to the horizontal cornice at the top. A magnificent square campanile rises at the south end of the portico. Huge iron braziers stick out under its battlements at the four corners. It seems to crush the arch that springs from one side of its base, out of all proportion with the other two. This is very apparent from a distance, and produces an uncomfortable feeling. But, when one makes the intimate acquaintance of the portico and begins to examine the exquisitely designed arabesques, &c., that decorate its arches, there is nothing but admiration for a mind that could play with stone as Giudetto has done in this case. The piers which support the three round arches have each four slender columns. These are beautifully carved with all manner of intricate patterns. On the central pier Eve is seen tempting Adam to eat of the Forbidden Fruit. They are at the base of a tree, which growing upwards spreads out branches whereon rest the early Kings of Israel and the Prophets. The exterior members of the arches are covered with finely cut foliage. The capitals are formed by the semi-Gothic classical acanthus leaves of the period. Above the abaci of the capitals three lions, crouching on consoles or brackets, grip in their thin claws a snake, a dragon, and a demon. Between two of the arches there is a good stone group of S. Martin dividing his coat with a beggar by the use of a bronze sword. The interior wall of the portico has a flat arcade of red marble columns and arches. Three doors give entrance into the cathedral. Their tympanums are decorated by well-executed reliefs. A double frieze runs along the wall. On the lower portion figures, engaged in agricultural pursuits, and the Signs of the Zodiac are cut; on the upper, the life of S. Martin depicted in a series of panels. Some excellent examples of graffiti work decorate part of the wall. The galleries of the façade are like those that appear in the illustration of the church of S. Michele.

The chief feature of the interior of the Duomo is a fine Gothic triforium. As in Pisa's Cathedral, this goes round the whole nave, transepts, which it also crosses, and choir, stopping short only at the apse. It is formed of double divisions of three pointed and cusped arches, which on the west wall are increased to groups of four each. The transepts are double. A massive pier in each carries the triforium across in a most effective manner. The nine bays on either side of the nave have round arches. The fine roof, which is vaulted and groined, is unfortunately spoilt by a very bizarre scheme of colour that is not redeemed by the beautiful glass in the windows of the apse. Half up the north aisle is an octagonal chapel built of marble, but almost entirely covered with gilt. It is known as the Tempieto, and contains the venerated relic of the Vólto Santo, or Holy Face. It is supposed to be an image of Our Lord, executed by Nicodemus, but is evidently a work of the eleventh century carved in two different species of wood. A much finer work of art is the beautiful tomb of Ilaria Caretti in the north transept. With her little dog, emblem of fidelity, at her feet, the figure of this gracious lady lies extended on a noble sarcophagus. Little winged putti surround its base, and it ranks among the best productions of the accomplished Jacopo della Quercia.

One of the most perfect Gothic arcades in all Italy is to be found in the church of Sta Maria della Rosa. It is situated close to the Archbishop's palace at the east end of the cathedral. The spaces between the pointed arches and the top lights of the church are filled with exquisitely carved cherubs peeping out from a mass of foliage. In the Piazza dei Servi stands another small church, that possesses a carved wooden roof not in any way inferior to the marvellous one that adorns the Badia in Florence. It was erected during the days when Lucca was a republic, and one panel has the coat of arms of the city, with two great leopards as supporters and "Libertas" for a legend.

The church of S. Frediano is close to the city walls. Its fine tower is seen on the right in the illustration. Frediano, or "Fair Hair," was a son of a King of Ulster. Trained in Galloway, he travelled to Rome, where he was well received by Pelagius I., and housed in the Lateran. He became Bishop of Lucca in 565, and after the destruction of the first cathedral by the Lombards commenced the erection of the present archi-episcopal edifice. The church is full of interest, and contains the huge rectangular block of stone, computed to weigh three tons, which the saint lifted into a cart drawn by oxen, and which was to be used in the building of his cathedral. There is a fine circular font in the church, with the Passage of the Red Sea carved on its panels by the unknown Magister Robertus. Close to this, in the chapel dedicated to the patroness of domestic servants, Sta Zita, is a good example of Giovanni Della Robbia's work. Most of the church is built from the stones of the Roman Amphitheatre. The altar is placed at the west end. The façade is a very dignified composition, in which an Ionic colonnade and a good mosaic of our Lord in glory play an important part. The grand campanile, however, is its glory. This rises with tiers of open arches; but here they depart from the usual plan and increase in pairs. One tier of a single pair is the lowest; above are two of three arches, and the next two of four arches. Two sides of this splendid tower are of greater width than the others.

In the sketch a distant tower can be seen on which is growing a clump of trees. It is attached to the beautiful, red-brick Palazzo Borghi, one of the two fine palaces in Lucca built in the Venetian Gothic style. The story goes that the tower was built by Paolo Guigni, and that on its top he planted trees, under which he gave a series of banquets to show his indifference for the enemy who were then besieging the city. A very pleasant walk leads us along under the grand limes and elm trees that compose the shady boulevards on Lucca's old walls. Many a good study of roofs and distant mountains, in which the bare crags and rugged peaks of the Carrara range form a fine background, can be obtained from these walls; and many a beautiful peep through the foliage on to gardens below will reward the painter who strays out of the accepted route and makes a sojourn in the bright little city.

The church of S. Michele has the most striking façade of any so-called Pisan-Gothic building. It is another work of Giudetto's, but is anterior to that which he added to the cathedral. It is interesting to note how the fine colonnade at the base of S. Michele's façade was amplified in the later work of the cathedral by the portico which takes its place. Between the columns of this colonnade the closed lozenge-shaped lights, a familiar feature in the churches of the Pisan style, give a certain amount of solidity by their deep shadows. Above is an open gallery, under which is a marvellously intricate frieze of arabesques. Some of the pillars of this gallery are covered with inlaid marble, others are twisted or decorated with chevrons. On two of them repulsive-looking dragons, snakes, and demons crawl downwards in high relief. At each end is a cluster of four slender columns bound by knots. The capitals are boldly cut, with heavy square abaci, from which bosses and floral work protrude. The corbels of the round-headed arches are composed of heads of animals and demons, and the arches themselves are beautifully inlaid with geometrical designs. The frieze above is divided into panels of graffiti, wherein lions, goats and birds, &c., are depicted in all sorts of attitudes. The gallery above this is very similar, but with even better pillars supporting its arches. It slopes upwards from the gable ends. Then comes the strange and airy feature of this remarkable façade—a false gable with two galleries ending in a pointed apex. Standing on canopied turrets at each end of the gable are angels blowing bronze horns. Their robes are embroidered with inlaid marble and their outspread wings are of bronze. On the acroteria, or pedestal, at the top, is a colossal statue of S. Michael with vestments adorned by a gilded pattern. His wings are formed of separate bronze plates to diminish wind pressure, and make a good note of colour against a blue sky. At the back of this false gable a flight of steps ascends from the roof to the statue. As will be seen in the illustration, the colonnade is carried along the other walls of the church and campanile. This again is a grand tower and like that of S. Frediano has two sides greater than the others. The interior of S. Michele is very simple, very beautiful and dignified, and quite unspoilt by any whitewash or colour.

There are many other churches worthy of description if space allowed, but passing mention must be made of the earliest known work of Niccolò Pisano. This is a relief of the "Deposition from the Cross" in the tympanum of the arch of a side door at S. Martino. There is much else to see in the compact and well-ordered little city that is situated so beautifully in a great bowl with mountains on every side. Much, too, to wonder at in the legend S.P.Q.L. that the municipio still writes up on public notices as a reminder of the days when its inhabitants made the laws that governed the Republic of Lucca.

FLORENCE

ALTHOUGH Florence has no doubt an Etruscan origin, her first historical record dates from the time of Tiberius. During his reign the inhabitants presented a petition to the august presence praying him to prevent the diversion of the River Clanis into the Arno. Through many subsequent vicissitudes she rose from an obscure beginning to be the centre of the Art of the civilised world. This was accomplished in the days when Florentines were not ashamed of "soiling the fingers with trade," and was due to the good taste and patronage of her wealthy merchant citizens, who took the keenest interest in the development of their city as the home of all things cultured. The Florence of to-day is rapidly becoming as cosmopolitan as London, and as a consequence has a growing trade in the manufacture of "antiques." But so great is the charm of this wonderful city that every year sees an addition to the long list of those, who coming from other lands, either rent a flat within the walls or occupy a villa outside. It is a charm that never dies—indeed, becomes intensified. Bitter winds may whistle through the draughty streets, and tearing down the Arno from the mountains howl across its bridges; the end of the "merrie" month may still see deep snow on the hilltops, yet no one who has once been in Florence, even under these undesirable conditions, but wishes to come again. And this charm—what is it? Is it that the city stands in the midst of a garden, a veritable bed of roses? Does it lie in her classic river along the banks of which Dante oftentimes wandered? Is it because Cimabue, Giotto, Leonardo, Michael Angelo, Raphael, the della Robbias, Fra Angelico, and Donatello, all were at their zenith in Florence? Go to the Pitti and Uffizi and marvel at their powers. Is it in her glorious buildings, her magnificent palaces, and the traditions of her great families—the Medici, Buondelmonti, Uberti? In all of these surely lies a charm that nothing can dissipate! Yes, in all these; but still there is a something beyond them, a subtle, indefinable spell that enwraps the senses and captures one body and soul in this Queen of cities.

Of all the great Florentine trade-guilds, the Wool-weavers were the richest, and the illustration shows a restored corner of their Hall with the redecorated altar behind the iron grille. On the opposite side is the Gothic church of Or S. Michele. Originally the site was occupied by a corn market, in the loggia of which stood the figure of a much-worshipped Madonna. Walls were built round the loggia and the market removed to the storey above. The niches on the exterior of the church contain statues of the patron saints of the numerous trade-guilds. Among them was a fine S. George, the patron saint of the Armourers Guild, by Donatello. This is now in the Bargello, having been replaced by a cast. The figures of SS. Mark and Peter were gifts from the linen merchants and the butchers, and are by the same master-hand. The best stained glass in Florence decorates the fine Gothic windows of the church. Their very elaborate tracery is cleverly designed to get the greatest effect from the top light—so necessary in the narrow and dark street. The Misericordia Brethren may be seen in the sketch carrying out one of the self-imposed tasks for which they receive no payment whatever. The Compagnia della Misericordia was founded by Pier di Luca Borsi in the year 1240. Men of all grades of society belong to the Order, and once a year attend a service in the cathedral, when they take a pledge to abstain from profane language. They nurse the sick, carry patients to the hospitals, and the dead to their last home. Every one who knows Florence is familiar with the hurrying footsteps of the black-robed figures as they proceed on their errands of mercy. The headquarters of this noble self-sacrificing Order are on the left in the illustration of the Campanile.

Those who recollect Florence in the eighties will remember that the picturesque old quarter, the Mercato Vecchio, occupied the site of the fine Piazza Vittorio Emmanuele. This pestilential plague spot, into which it was hardly safe to venture, was done away with in the years 1890-95. When the work of demolition was begun it was found to be so foul and insanitary that no house-breakers were allowed to touch a single stone until three months of stringent disinfection had elapsed. This is one of the very few clearances that have taken place in the heart of the city since the fifteenth century, and the thought of it carries one back to the days when that great reformer, Fra Girolamo Savonarola, set Florence on fire with his fierce disputations. A great bronze disc with a medallion portrait of the ascetic monk marks the spot in the Piazza della Signoria where he ended his days at the stake with two brave companions. In his little cell in the monastery of S. Marco there are two pictures which present us with the details of the tragedy. Save for the flight of steps that has taken the place of the platform where his judges are seen sitting, the Palazzo Vecchio, wherein he was condemned, is the same to-day as it was then. It is the grandest secular building in Florence, and this is saying a great deal. Built of huge blocks of rough stone, it was commenced in 1299 by Arnolfo di Cambio, and is a testimony to the splendid construction of the fourteenth century. The top storey projects on brackets from the walls, which stand four-square. Under these brackets are the Ghibelline and Guelph arms; the former is a white lily on a red ground, the latter a red lily on a white ground, quartered with the crescent of Fiesole. The present arms of Florence, so familiar all over the city, are a red fleur-de-lys with two sprays on a white ground. The battlements that surmount this storey are square-shaped Guelph, while those of the great tower which dominates this part of the city are the swallow-tailed Ghibelline. This fine landmark is three hundred and seven feet high, and has a projecting gallery underneath the loggia with which it terminates. The palace was built to accommodate the eight Priori, who, under the presidency of the Gonfaloniere, ruled Florence. It remained the seat of government for over three hundred years until Cosimo de Medici, having usurped the power, removed his court to the Pitti Palace.

From Michelozzo's beautiful cortile, which one enters first, a noble staircase ascends to the Salone dei Cinquecento. It was in this magnificent hall, where a statue of Savonarola is now placed, that he was tried and condemned. There are other fine rooms in the Palazzo Vecchio, but nothing approaches the beauty of the little cortile below. Nine columns of grand proportions bearing round arches support the arcade that forms part of the courtyard. Each column has a different design above the fluting which runs half-way up them all. The delicate low relief of these exquisitely modelled devices, some of which are grape clusters, others children with garlands, heads, and classic ornamentation, is so slight, that the effect on every column obtained by the light which pours down from high above makes each one seem a simple mass of half-tone thrown strongly out against the deep shade of the arcade beyond. It is an architectural masterpiece of what the painter calls "values." A delightful fountain in the centre of the cortile, by Verrochio, adds to the sense of repose that one experiences when the glare and noise of the piazza are left behind.

The south side of the Piazza dei Signoria is taken up by the Loggia dei Lanzi—a good specimen of the domestic Gothic style of Italy. Three arches form the base that supports the lower storey. A rich balustrade and projecting cornice adorn the top. Benvenuto Cellini's "Perseus," and "Judith and Holofernes" by Donatello, are among the statuary placed in the loggia. The building was erected for the use of the Priori, and from it they witnessed all great spectacles that took place in the square. It derives its name from the guard of foreign soldiers that Cosimo I. established in quarters hard by. To the east and running south is the great Ufizzi Palace, which contains some of the finest art treasures that Florence possesses.

Dante's house stands in the Via Dante, to reach which one leaves the piazza at the north-east corner, passing the back of the Badia on the way thither. The Badia was the Church of the Benedictines, and is built in the shape of a Greek cross. It is notable for the grandest coffered wooden roof in Italy. Just above the frieze which runs round the top of the walls, a fine series of well-carved brackets carries the first portion of the roof—a flat space beautifully ornate with good arabesques. Deep-set bosses in recesses circulate round the carving beyond this, until they centre in a recess so deeply set that it almost becomes a miniature dome. Heavy brackets support and carry the outward thrust. The miniature dome takes the form of a Greek cross, and from it the whole design springs in a very symmetrical manner. Such a massive wooden ceiling speaks volumes for the constructive art of the day.

Opposite the Badia stands the Bargello, or Palazzo del Podestà. In its courtyard is the well-known outside staircase that, sketched "to death," is to be seen represented in almost every shop in Florence. The palace is the national museum, and among its grand collections the work of the della Robbia family can best be studied. Florence is such a treasure-house in every way that one might wander on from church to palace, and museum to gallery for a year, and then be barely acquainted with what lies behind its walls.