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.
[Illustration: THE PORCH OF THE CATHEDRAL, VERONA]
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.
[Illustration: INTERIOR OF S. ZENO, VERONA]
The interior is very striking, not only in its good proportions but in
its simplicity, which no side-altars mar. As in the cathedral at
Chester, one enters from the west down a flight of steps, held a moment
in admiration by the solemn grandeur of this fine church. The beautiful
larch roof soars away far above the mellowed floor, the warm colour of
the walls and depth of shadow through the arches of the crypt below the
choir, create a harmony of colour from our point of vantage not often
met with in Italy's churches. The aisles are divided from the nave by
alternate piers and red marble pillars, the former with ascending Doric
pilasters, two of which, near the west end, support a flying arch
beneath the roof and are evident traces of an early vaulting. At the end
of the nave, and occupying its last three bays, is the raised choir
reached by two flights of marble steps on either side of those leading
down into the crypt. On the red marble balustrade of the choir are
figures of Christ and the twelve apostles. In a niche on the south side
is a forbidding looking figure of S. Zeno, the patron saint of the city,
who, being an African, is represented with a black face. The apse at the
east end was rebuilt in the fifteenth century and has Gothic windows.
The old Benedictine cloisters of the once attached monastery stand on
the north, and contain amongst other tombs twenty-nine of 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.
[Illustration: THE MARKET PLACE, VERONA]
Of earlier days there still remains one of the grandest ruins in
Italy--the celebrated Amphitheatre. It was the night of a hot day; a
blood-red moon, mounting on her upward path in the copper-coloured sky,
left a grim mass of deep shadow beneath. Bats were hawking in and out of
the black shadow, as yet unrelieved by the electric lights, and the
spacious piazza was nearly empty. An ominous feeling, intensified by
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.
[Illustration: THE CATHEDRAL, PADUA]
Sta Giustiana is a very fine building of the sixteenth century,
commenced from designs by Padre Girolamo da Brescia and finished fifty
years later by Andrea Morone. All its altars are decorated with scrolls
and floral patterns, in the inlaid marble work for which Italy has been
famous for many generations.
The church of S. Agostino degli Eremitani is a solemn building of a
single nave three hundred feet in length, which was constructed at the
latter end of the thirteenth century. Its sacristy is used by the
students of the university as their chapel, and many memorials of the
most famous among them cover its walls. The tombs the church contains
are very interesting. One with a magnificent canopy is of the fifth Lord
of Padua, Jacopo di Carrara, a friend of Petrarch's, while other members
of this extinct family lie buried in the church. The Carraras were Lords
of Padua for many generations; the last of the great race with his two
sons held the city in 1405 against the Venetians, but famine so reduced
the garrison that they surrendered themselves to the besiegers and were
conveyed prisoners to Venice. The Council of Ten decreed that they
should be strangled in their cells, and a member of the noble Venetian
family of Priuli performed this disgraceful murder in the dungeons of
the Doge's palace.
Sta Maria dell' Arena, or the church of 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.