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.
[Illustration: LUCCA FROM THE CITY WALLS]
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.
[Illustration: S. MICHELE, LUCCA]
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.
[Illustration: OR S. MICHELE AND THE PALAZZO DELL' ARTE DI LANA,
FLORENCE]
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.
Florence, too, was the home of the Renaissance, and although Giotto
preceded the great master of early Renaissance, Brunelleschi, his famous
Campanile is more classic in style than Gothic. The accompanying sketch
was made towards twilight when a day's heavy rain had cleared off. The
general impression one carries away of the beautiful bell tower is that
of a white mass rising majestically above the congested traffic of the
noisy street below. The year 1334 saw the commencement of Giotto's
design. His death, however, took place when the work had but reached the
first storey of the five. Taddeo Gaddi and Francesco Talenti carried it
on, and to the latter are due the windows of the upper storeys. Small
lozenges in the lowest depict the Development of Civilised Man from the
Creation. Above these is a series of sculptures, and in niches yet
higher up are the Prophets, Evangelists, Patriarchs and Sibyls. Giotto
intended to add a spire to the heavy balcony which projects from the top
of the last storey. The whole structure is cased in white, pink and
green marble, and thus harmonises with the exterior of the Duomo which
it adjoins. Had the spire been added, the _campanile_ would not have the
rather top-heavy appearance it has when seen from some distance away.
[Illustration: THE CAMPANILE, FLORENCE]
The cathedral is a building that stands on the site of a very early
church dedicated to S. Salvadore. Appropriately named Sta Maria del
Fiore, the construction was commenced in 1298 from the designs of
Arnolfo di Cambio. Many hands worked for nearly two centuries at
Arnolfo's designs, and continually altered them. On the whole, whatever
its merits, the building cannot be said to be an architectural success.
The façade, completed as recently as 1887 by Emilio di Fabris, is
perhaps the most fortunate feature. The Gothic windows on the north side
are certainly very beautiful. The mass of the huge dome seen from the
corner of the Via del Orviolo piles extremely well above the domes of
the apse and south transept. But most of the good points of the exterior
are lost in the "noisy" pattern of the different coloured marble panels,
which, like those in Giotto's _campanile_, encase the whole building.
The interior is vast and empty, and the dull grey colour that covers the
walls is almost worse than whitewash. Four immense bays constitute
either side of the nave. The heavy piers that support the arches would
be better without the ugly caps above the capitals. There is a gallery
above with pointed arches, and four circular windows on each side form
the clerestory. The best portions of the interior are the two aisles.
The glass in the windows of these, although almost obscured by dust and
cobwebs, is very lovely. The interior of the great dome was painted by
Vasari and Zuccaro, but reveals no beauties of design. The High Altar is
situated beneath this, and the choir stalls which are around are
enclosed by a high marble screen. Under the altar, in a fine bronze
casket, lie the remains of S. Zenobius, who was bishop of Florence at
the end of the fourth century. The apse of the cathedral consists of
five chapels; the middle one is dedicated to the saint. Behind the High
Altar is a fine, though unfinished _Pietà_, the last work commenced by
Michael Angelo. He intended it for his own tomb, but died before it was
completed. There are many things of value in both the Sagrestia della
Mese, the beautiful bronze doors of which are by Michelozzo, and the
Sagrestia Vecchia, over the door of which is one of Lucca della Robbia's
very best works. It is true that with oft-repeated visits the vast
building grows on one, but, however much its size may impress, it cannot
be called a landmark in Italian architecture.
Close by these two structures and due west of the cathedral façade, in
the middle of the Piazza del Duomo, stands the Baptistery. Its eight
walls were covered with marble by Arnolfo di Cambio some time after the
west door had been removed and the rectangular space for the altar
constructed inside. The three doors that remain are, with the lintels,
superb examples in bronze of the Renaissance period. The twenty panels
which depict the life of S. John the Baptist on the south door are the
work of Andrea Pisano. At the base of one lintel two nude male figures
carry children at a vintage festival; at the base of the other are two
female figures, amidst a cluster of corn stalks. Andrea Pisano has
almost excelled himself in the exquisite foliage which grows up both
posts. Above the door is a bronze group in which S. John kneels to
receive the stroke from the executioner's sword, while an angel holds up
a hand shielding the sight from her eyes. The East door by Ghiberti
contains prophets and sibyls in niches between the ten panels that
illustrate episodes of the Old Testament. The third door is by the same
hand. Its twenty panels of Gospel history are surrounded by exquisite
foliage, amidst which snails and beetles crawl and bees suck honey,
while here and there the fascinating head of an impudent little frog
peeps out.
The interior does not compare with Pisa's Baptistery. Granite columns
with gilt Corinthian capitals support a triforium gallery composed of
round arches with Ionic pillars. The square lights of the clerestory,
which alternate with mosaic panels, are behind another gallery that
leans inwards. From this springs the mosaic-covered dome. Up to the year
1571 a large font stood in the centre, directly under the opening in the
middle of the dome, which until then had no cupola. It was moved in that
year by Francesco I. for the baptism of his son! An act of sacrilege
which speaks volumes for the absolute power of the autocratic grand
dukes of those days.
[Illustration: PONTE VECCHIO, FLORENCE]
It is very interesting to examine the almost interminable series of
portraits that hang on the walls of the long passage connecting the
Ufizzi and Pitti Palaces. This passage crosses the river, and may be
seen in the illustration of the Ponte Vecchio, with its square barred
windows looking up the river. It is above the jewellers' shops--a
favourite haunt of the tourist--that hang so airily like spiders over
the water and crowd the old bridge. Amongst this extraordinary
collection of portraits of the Medici and their collaterals, may be
seen one of our own Charles II., Eleanor of Toledo, wife of Cosimo I.,
and Catherine de Medici, whose sly eyes, cunning and cruel mouth in no
way belie her character. All the reigning grand dukes are here, and not
one of them can be said, if these are faithful portraits, to have a
really open honest countenance. To judge by their physiognomies, they
ruled by brute force and craft. However, there are bronze figures of two
of the race who in metal appear more like noblemen than these travesties
in paint. Indeed when one sees the gilded figures of Ferdinand I. and
Cosimo II. standing over their tombs in the Capella Medicea, we feel
they were men of the great race that made Florence famous throughout the
civilised world.
The Capella Medicea stands at the back of the fine church of S. Lorenzo.
It is a gloomy octagonal building with a dome, and lined throughout in a
dull and heavy scheme, with most costly marble. The interior of the dome
is painted and gilded. Six members of the great family lie here in their
sarcophagi. The remains of two more rest in the Sacristy. But it is not
in connection with any reverence for the scions of the Medicean House
that our footsteps are drawn hither. No, the little sacristy is crowded
all day with those who come to see the work of Michael Angelo. Beneath
the statue on the tomb of Giuliano de Medici are the colossal figures of
Day and Night. These two wonderful creations are surpassed by Dawn and
Twilight on the tomb of Lorenzo, a grandson of Lorenzo the Magnificent,
and father of Catherine de Medici. His well-known seated figure is on
the tomb. More simple than these is the beautiful, but unfinished, group
of the Virgin and Child. The little altar, too, is a masterpiece of
simplicity by the same great hand.