Bologna.
When we left Ferrara, our landlord insisted on our taking six horses to
each chaise, on account of the badness of the roads, the soil about the
town being moist and heavy. I attempted to remonstrate that four would be
sufficient; but he cut me short, by protesting, that the roads were so
very deep, that he would not allow the best friend he had in the world,
not even the Emperor himself, were he there in person, to take fewer than
six. There was no more to be said after this; the same argument would
have been irresistible, had he insisted on our taking twelve.
As you draw near to Bologna, the country gradually improves in
cultivation; and, for some miles before you enter the town, seems one
continued garden. The vineyards are not divided by hedges, but by
rows of elms and mulberry trees; the vines hanging in a most beautiful
picturesque manner, in festoons from one tree to another. This country is
not only fertile in vines, but likewise in corn, olives, and pasturage,
and has, not without foundation, acquired the name of Bologna la Grassa.
This town is well built, and populous; the number of inhabitants
amounting to seventy, or perhaps eighty thousand. The houses in general
have lofty porticoes, which would have a better effect if the streets
were not so narrow; but in this particular, magnificence is sacrificed to
conveniency; for, in Italy, shade is considered as a luxury.
The Duchy of Bologna had conditions granted to it, upon submitting to
the Papal dominion. Those conditions have been observed with a degree
of punctuality and good faith, which many zealous Protestants would not
expect in the Church of Rome.
Bologna retains the name of a republic, sends an ambassador to the Pope’s
court, and the word Libertas is inscribed on the arms and coin of the
State, with the flattering capitals S. P. Q. B. The civil government and
police of the town is allowed to remain in the hands of the magistrates,
who are chosen by the Senate, which formerly consisted of forty members;
but since this republic came under the protection, as it is called, of
the Pope, he thought proper to add ten more, but the whole fifty still
retain the name of the Quaranta. Mankind, in general, are more alarmed
by a change of name, in things which they have long regarded with
veneration, than by a real change in the nature of the things themselves.
The Pope may have had some good political reason for augmenting the
number of the council to fifty; but he could have none for calling them
the Council of Fifty, if the people chose rather to call fifty men
assembled together the Council of _Forty_. One of the Senators presides
in the Senate, and is called the Gonfalonier; from his carrying the
standard (Gonfalone) of the republic. He is chief magistrate, is attended
by guards, and is constantly at the palace, or near it, to be ready on
any emergency; but he remains only two months in office, and the Senators
take it by turns.
In the midst of all this appearance of independency, a Cardinal Legate
from Rome governs this republic: he is appointed by the Pope, with a
Vice Legate, and other assistants. The orders which the Legate issues,
are supposed to be with the approbation of the Senate; at least, they
are never disputed by that prudent body of men. The office, which is
of higher dignity than any other now in the gift of the Court of Rome,
continues for three years: at the expiration of that time, his Holiness
either appoints a new Legate, or confirms the old one in the office for
three years longer.
This ecclesiastical Viceroy lives in great magnificence, and has a
numerous suite of pages, equerries, and halberdiers, who attend him in
the city. When he goes into the country, he is accompanied by guards on
horseback.
The Gonfalonier and magistrates regulate all the usual matters which
regard the police, and decide, in common causes, according to the laws
and ancient forms of the republic; but there is no doubt that, in affairs
of great importance, and, indeed, as often as he chooses to interfere,
the Cardinal Legate influences decisions. This must be mortifying to
the Senators and noble families, but is less felt by the people in
general, who have every appearance of living under a mild and beneficent
Government.
The inhabitants of Bologna carry on a very considerable trade in silks
and velvets, which are manufactured here in great perfection. The country
produces immense quantities of oil, wine, flax, and hemp; and furnishes
all Europe with sausages, Macaroni, liqueurs, and essences. The people
seem to be industrious, and to be allowed to enjoy the fruits of their
labour; the markets are most plentifully supplied with provisions; fruit
is to be had in great variety, and all excellent in its kind; the common
wine of the country is a light white wine of an agreeable taste, which
strangers prefer to any of the French or German wines to be had here.
Those who are not pleased with the entertainment they meet with at the
inns in this city, it will be a difficult matter to please; they must be
possessed of a degree of such nicety, both in their palates and tempers,
as will render them exceedingly troublesome to themselves and others, not
only in their travels through Italy, but in the whole course of their
journey through life.
There are a great number of palaces in this city. What is called the
Public Palace, is, by far, the most spacious, but not the most elegant.
In this the Cardinal Legate is lodged. There are also apartments for the
Gonfalonier; and halls, or chambers, for some of the courts of justice.
This building, though of a gloomy and irregular form without, contains
some very magnificent apartments, and a few good pictures: the most
esteemed are, a large one, by Guido, of the Virgin, and the infant Jesus,
seated on the rainbow; a Sampson, by Guido also, refreshing himself with
the water which issues from the jaw-bone with which he has just defeated
the Philistines; and a St. John the Baptist, by Raphael, a duplicate of
that in the Palais Royal at Paris, but thought, by some connoisseurs,
greatly inferior. For my part, I think it is to be regretted, that this
great painter did not employ the time he spent on one of them, at least,
on some subject more worthy of his talents. A single figure, unemployed,
can never please so much as a groupe, occupied in some interesting
action. It is a pity that a painter, capable, even in a moderate degree,
of exciting the passions, should confine his talents to solitary figures.
How much more unworthy of _him_ who possessed all the sublimity and
pathos of the art!
On his arrival at this town, the first object which strikes the eye of
a stranger, is a noble marble fountain, in the area before the Palazzo
Publico. The principal figure is a statue of Neptune, eleven feet in
height; one of his hands is stretched out before him, in the other he
holds the Trident. The body and limbs are finely proportioned, the
anatomy perfect, the character of the countenance severe and majestic.
This figure of Neptune, as well as all the others of boys, dolphins, and
syrens, which surround it, are in bronze. The whole is the workmanship
of Giovanni di Bologna, and is highly esteemed; yet there seems to be an
impropriety in making water flow in streams from the breasts of the sea
nymphs, or syrens.
Over the entrance of the Legate’s palace, is a bronze statue of a Pope.
The tiara, and other parts of the Papal uniform, are not so favourable to
the sculptor’s genius, as the naked simplicity in which Neptune appears.
A female traveller, however, not extravagantly fond of the fine arts,
would rather be observed admiring the sculptor’s skill in imitating the
folds of the Sacerdotal robes, than his anatomical accuracy in forming
the majestic proportions of the Sea Divinity.