them so complete as it is of the others. Room III is that in which the
work is most beautiful. There were several students at work drawing
from the life, and in one of the rooms all the designs submitted in
competition for prizes were exhibited. The architectural designs were
generally very commonplace but one or two for a holy-water stoup showed
power of drawing and some fancy. Renaissance is the only style thought
of....
_September 2._
The view from Cortona is very fine, over the broad Val de Chiana with
the end of Lake Thrasimene full in view, and the irregular mountain
outlines of Monte Cortona and other heights filling up the whole of the
background.
We left after only two hours’ pause and soon reached the head of the
lake. We were busy making out all the sites of the battle (which may
be done with great vividness), when we reached the Papal dogana. There
were two difficulties--first, my passport was improperly viséd but this
I got over; and second, our driver had no visé at all, and it was half
an hour before he was allowed to take us on as far as the next village
under strict promise to come back again at once. It rained heavily as
we started and we lost some of the beauty of this the best part of our
drive. Thrasimene is a grand sheet of water but wants some striking
feature on its banks, some jutting out rocks or mighty hills plunging
perpendicularly into its depths, to make it thoroughly attractive.
Now it has a deserted look: its banks are not grand and yet no houses
or villages show there and one gets a rather gloomy impression. The
place at which we changed our horse, Pasignano, is a miserable Italian
village,--and how miserable that is I can hardly say--with its fair
proportion of beggars, _i.e._, every one whose eye you catch holds out
a hand immediately for a _mezzo baioccho_. It is prettily situated,
and, as one of the places at which _vetturini_ stop on the road to
Rome, ought to be rather better favoured as to an inn. The only one did
not look promising and we preferred fasting to trying it. A few miles
more and we left the lake, and aided by two bullocks climbed a steep
hill above its banks, reached the cathedral and village of Magione,
and drove the rest of the way by moonlight to Perugia where we were
heartily glad to find ourselves at 10.30 P.M. very ready for something
to eat.
_September 4._
Lucca in its flat, surrounded by mountains, Pisa grand with water
and hills, Genoa with the blue Mediterranean at its feet, Siena on
its lofty though arid hills, and Arezzo with its fine prospect of
cultivated valley girt with hills, must all, lovely as they are, give
way to Perugia, seated on the irregular summit of a mountain, looking
one way toward Thrasimene and Monte Cortona, another toward the
irregular peaks of the Appenines, a third down the rich flat valley
of the Tiber, and last of all toward the noble mountain against whose
streaked side stands whitely shining in the distance the object of
many an artistic as well as many a religious aspiration, the shrine of
the great saint of Assisi. Add to this beauty of situation a beauty
of atmosphere which we never dream of in England, and the picture is
complete.
Certainly since we have been here this has been no land of cloudless
blue skies. We have had glorious weather, and yet without any doubt the
most glorious cloud scenery we have ever known anywhere. Sometimes a
violent storm in the distance and another close at hand, sunsets short
in duration but brilliant to excess while they last, and in midday
a purple, blue or violet tint over every portion of the wonderful
landscape....
_September 6._
We started at 5.30 A.M. for Assisi.... The sacristan took us up through
the sacristy by a staircase which opens into the north transept of
the upper church. From the gloom of the lower church to the flood of
coloured light in the upper the contrast is very great. The latter is
in all respects one of the most joyous buildings I have ever seen,
bold, nervous and simple in its design, exquisitely harmonious in
all its colouring, and in most respects unharmed by the hand of the
restorer. Obviously however the frescoes on the roof are losing their
colour and being gradually washed out. This is not difficult to account
for when one sees the state of the outer roof of the church, which,
I have no doubt, admits an ample supply of wet at the top of the
groining. The upper church is used only on some few great days during
the year and is I suppose even less cared for. It gave me a pang to be
shown into such a building by a door in a corner, to see the principal
door permanently closed, grass growing thick upon the dreary piazza
in front of it: it was even more mournful, I think, than is the sad
solitude of the great group at Pisa.
I am much puzzled by the interior of this upper church. I cannot
get out of my head the impression that they [the two “churches”]
were designed and _in part executed_ by Frenchmen. The detail of the
groining piers and their capitals and bases are so peculiarly and
characteristically French that (seeing how very different Italian work
of the same date was) I cannot believe that they were ever wrought by
Italian hands from French designs, because sculpture of foliage was
just one of these things in which the character of different schools
was so marked that it was impossible to get any but Frenchmen to do
such work as this. Above this point I do not feel the same thing
because I see that the window traceries, though very fair, have a
feature peculiar to Italian Gothic--in the way in which the circles,
etc., in the tracery are put under the main arch, just touching but not
uniting with it. The string under the windows has for a considerable
portion of its length a complete English dog-tooth. The whole of the
walls are painted. Below the string-course, which is very high from
the floor, is, first a painted imitation of hangings (much like our
thirteenth century patterns) in which the diaper is continued regularly
without reference to folds in the draperies; then a row of noble
frescoes by Giotto; and above the string on each side of the windows
other frescoes by Cimabue. The roof is by the latter, and the groining
bays are alternately blue studded with stars, and frescoed in subjects.
The latter have a predominance in the ground of a rich chrome--reddish
yellow--and the ribs throughout are bordered with wide patterned
borders. The contrast of colours is admirable and finer than anything I
have seen. The borders round the work done by Giotto are very inferior
to those in Cimabue’s work. The latter[5] are all severely flat and
geometrical, indulging, after a few feet of plain pattern, in a
quatrefoil
[Illustration: quatrefoil]
or one inscribed on a square, painted with a head on a blue ground.
Giotto’s, on the other hand, though in some respects very beautiful,
indulge too much in perspective, _e.g._ each division between the
groining piers is divided into the subjects by painted and shaded
imitations of twisted columns bearing cornices. There are some
features of interest in the work beyond the exquisite beauty. To me
it was new to find Cimabue painting with so little rudeness and so
much magnificent simplicity and breadth of purpose. I note another
of Giotto’s frescoes is interesting as showing the original use of
the painted roods of which we have seen so many. I think there can
be little doubt they were to be placed on the rood-screen, as he
distinctly shows them, and, curiously, I find in this upper church the
two ends of the ancient rood-beam sawn off a foot from the wall. This
was a few feet west of the crossing. The transepts, altar and stalls
are all modern in their arrangements.
Externally there is nothing to notice save the fine west door and
circular window over it, of a type peculiar so far as I have seen to
the churches of Assisi. The glass in the nave windows is certainly old
and good, very little white introduced.
After seeing this most interesting building well, we betook ourselves
to the not very easy work of climbing about the city to see the other
churches. The whole place is as decayed, forlorn and dirty as the
smallest and rudest of fishing villages in the worst out-of-the-way
parts of Cornwall, spread out to ten times the extent. Old walls
remain nearly all round, with gateways, and at the highest point the
picturesque ruin of a castle.
The west end of the cathedral is fine and the campanile by its side
is also of noble size and good character though built with very rough
stone....
_September 7._
We left Perugia this morning at 6 A.M. in the banquette of the
diligence for Arezzo. The day was charming so that we enjoyed the ride
thoroughly, though we had done it all so lately on our way to Perugia.
Here I shall note down a few of the things we have discovered on the
road:--
Hay and corn stacks are all made round a tall pole fixed in the ground.
Another piece of wood nailed across often converts this into a cross
over the corn.
In Arezzo cathedral during tierce a black cat was howling about the
cathedral in a most ludicrous manner. It belongs to the church and
is always howling about, sitting on altars, and so forth. Foreigners
never care about taking animals into church with them. Dogs are special
church-goers in Italy!
About Perugia the women’s costume is good: white sleeves, blue skirt,
pink bodice and bright handkerchief over the head. The women usually
wear immense straw hats about two feet six inches in diameter,
generally pinned on to the back of the head and flapping back to shade
none of the face. Between Arezzo and Florence the women often wear
round beaver hats with broad flat brims--and very ugly they are. Women
carry a fan instead of a parasol. Women in Genoa wear white veils.
The staple production of much of Tuscany, Siena, and the Papal States
seems to be olives. The trunks of the trees are always very old,
crushed down in the centre and sometimes two or three feet in diameter.
The branches are young wood and always trained out so as to leave a
hollow circle in the centre. The colour is a very blue green and as
they are planted everywhere in lines and at regular intervals, they do
not improve either the near or the distant view of the landscape. Maple
trees are trained in the same way for the purpose of growing vines. The
vines are festooned sometimes from tree to tree and at others festooned
round the tree itself.
The ploughs here are very clumsy, they have a very heavy wooden frame
with an iron shoe put on in front. It does not turn the dirt over
but only digs a rough furrow in the ground. Oxen are always used for
all agricultural work. They are ringed through the nose and a cord,
fastened to this ring and passing under a rope between the horns,
serves as a rein. The carts are so made that they are loaded far out on
the pole to the shoulder of the men.
All houses here have a pigeon house raised above the roof. On it are
painted some flying pigeons on a white ground. It is generally a large
construction and looks like a look-out room at first.
It is curious that we never see a bird flying about, yet we eat at
dinner every day portions of two or three. Where do they all come from?
All the houses are built over stables.
Wayside churches seem almost always to have a small window on each side
of their western door protected by a grating and with a shutter inside.
Often there is an arcaded porch above.
_September 8._
We left Arezzo at 6 A.M. in the diligence for Florence. With such a
bourne the pace of an Italian diligence is very aggravating--five and
a quarter miles an hour is the average speed, and the poor wretches of
horses have to go stages of twenty miles without stopping. The road is
very interesting. It passes nearly all the way through hilly country
rich in olives and vines and with the grand outlines of the Appenines
in the immediate neighborhood. I saw not one architectural feature in
the entire journey. We passed through two or three small towns busy
with festivities in honour of the Nativity of the B. V. M. but their
churches seemed to be all modern.
After passing ----[6] we recommenced a long ascent and aided by four
mules and ponies achieved the highest point after about two hours of
the hardest work under the hottest of suns. Here I caught a glimpse
of Florence in the distance; but about three miles further the whole
city suddenly opened to the view, filling up the valley of the Arno
with its campanile and dome thrown out grandly by a passing shadow
upon the delicate blue and violet tints of the Pistojese mountains in
the background. Fiesole was on our right and the whole country between
it and Florence seemed to be dotted over with villas, looking gay and
lovely in the brilliant sunshine. Behind Fiesole a long hill of rich
reddish brown stood out from the rest and afforded by its contrast
with the other colours of the landscape as complete a whole as can
be imagined. It is in vain to describe such a view: it is the most
exquisite of the kind that I have ever seen, and words cannot carry
the impression of an effect not produced solely by facts but in part
undoubtedly by sentiment.
A long drive through suburbs brought us to an old gate (shorn of its
old Florentine machicoulis, however) where we were detained nearly half
an hour about our passports and luggage, and this done we soon arrived
at our inn, crossing the Arno by the Ponte alle Grazie and passing
in our way the Palazzo Vecchio, Or San Michele and Giotto’s tower.
The latter was looked for eagerly and rewarded my anxious eyes. It is
certainly the most lovely piece of building I have ever seen. I shall
say no more but go on to journalize on the buildings as I am able....
_Street’s appreciation of Florence was intelligent, ardent, and
characteristic, but is, more than any other of his notes, a_
journal intime. _I have respected his sincerities._
_September 13._
We spent the whole of the afternoon very profitably at Pistoia. The
cathedral has not much architectural character. The west front has a
good simple Romanesque door and an open arcade all across in front. At
the north-west stands a very lofty and massive campanile, plain below
but arcaded richly above with arcades that have the appearance of
being put on in front of the real tower instead of helping to support
it. They have semicircular arches and then have their tympana filled
in with chequer patterns in white and black marble. The whole of this
arcaded part of the steeple is coursed in alternate white and dark
green: the lower part is of stone. Internally the cathedral has little
to show. There is a moderately good monument near the west end to a
professor who is represented lecturing; no mark of his religious faith
(I think) is introduced.[7] ...
Opposite the cathedral’s west front stands the fine baptistery. This
is octangular in plan and built in equal courses of white and dark
marble. Its external effect is very good indeed. It has a western
door[8] and north and south doors and a small chancel projected on the
west side. The design recalls in some respects the baptistery at Pisa
and must have been built about the time that was altered. The interior
unfortunately is as plain and bare as whitewash can make it. The great
octangular font in the centre is of the same kind of work as the
screens at S. Miniato, Byzantine in the character of its sculpture, but
delicate and elaborate in its detail and altogether a good specimen: it
is executed mainly in white marble....
In another church, S. Bartolomeo, I found a pulpit (also dated, etc.)
made by Guido da Como in 1250. This is square in plan, supported partly
in the wall and partly on three shafts, two of which rest on lions’
backs and the third on a sitting figure of a woman. The sculpture is
rude but vigorous. The whole of the sides is covered with subjects, and
at the angles are three figures, or rather one figure with two others
looking out from behind him. The subjects are described by inscriptions
under each in Latin.
Going from here to the church of S. Giovanni Evangelista, we saw a
similar pulpit of later date and superior workmanship but evidently
very closely copied from the work in S. Bartolomeo. The two angle
columns remain, both resting on lions’ backs. The lions have been
turned round so as both to face the west wall,--a most ridiculous
position. It is clear indeed that all of these pulpits have been taken
down and reconstructed. In this work the central column at S. Giovanni
has been taken away. It seems to me that this pulpit at S. Bartolomeo
is the prototype of all those for which the Pisani have so much credit.
Giovanni Pisano is said to have sculptured the pulpit in S. Giovanni
and if so (and I think it seems probable) he simply copied the older
work. I do not know what the pulpit of S. Andrea is like, but I have
little doubt that it was really from this pulpit that they obtained
their idea for all their very similar works.
The south front of S. Giovanni is arcaded in the Pisan fashion (with
lozenge panels in the arches) and above arcaded with two rows of
elaborate arcading. The whole elevation is remarkable in its effect.
The roof is of the usual type, with long tie-beams, and quite flat in
pitch....
We were followed about everywhere here by two very dirty and very
ragged urchins who took us to see everything. They knew about the
pulpits, talked about Luca della Robbia, etc., and when I gave them
an indivisible coin, about which they quarrelled, they settled the
matter by putting it into the poor box. How unlike any English boys
altogether! We were immensely amused by their sharp impudence.
The inn at Pistoia looked out on green shrubs and gardens, very
pleasant: the consequence was not so pleasant--the being kept awake
half the night and bitten in all directions by our troublesome enemies
the mosquitoes. We had to turn out early to join the diligence which
arrived by railway from Florence at 7.30 A.M. We made a brilliant start
but very soon altered our pace, the road beginning to ascend almost
immediately, and then for about four hours we toiled slowly up the
slopes of the Appenines, at first with six and afterwards with eight
horses. The day was fine but misty so that we lost very much of the
distant view. The scenery is fine but not alpine. It reminded me more
of the Jura, save that the hills seem here more to be shaken confusedly
about and not to range themselves into regular lines or masses. The
olive tree was seen for the last time as we went up and then we came
through great numbers of Spanish chestnuts, and lastly for half an hour
at most through a bleak, open and treeless country.
The descent was very different, down a narrow valley, following the
windings of the mountain stream, with fine combinations of scenery
and views. Stopped at La Porretta for dinner, and then on through a
fine country but along a miserable road constantly crossing the (now
dry) beds of mountains torrents. The soil is exceedingly liable to
land slips and seems to be sliding about in all directions--of course
road-making is difficult. At Vergato, a small village or town on this
part of the road, the old Palazzo Pubblico was passed, covered with
coats of arms in the usual way and distinguished by its Ringhiera still
perfect and jutting out into the narrow street. We reached Bologna at 8
P.M. A wall and gate was passed about a mile from the town; I could not
understand what wall it was.
_September 15._
S. Petronio is the grandest church in Bologna. Its west front is of
immense size and width but left nearly all in rough brick, the door
and basement alone being finished. This part of the work is of poor
character and the sculpture[9] (except in a stela on the south-west
door which I thought very vigorous) not particularly good. The interior
is magnificent....
S. Francesco is one of the finest churches in the town but shabby and
decayed outside and “painted and decorated” to such an extent inside
as to have destroyed nearly all its good effect. I never saw anything
more vile. The whole church is of brick and it has an apsidal east end
with an aisle all round the apse and chapels beyond. The buttresses are
“flying” but very heavy. The west door is good and indeed the whole
west front is striking. The windows are new but appeared to me to be
probably copies of the original windows. The campanili are curious.
There are two--one much smaller than the other and both on the south
side of the choir. They form a curious combination in the views from
the east....
_September 16._
The ride to Ferrara was very uninteresting--about four and a half
hours; we had left the hills altogether and saw nothing at all of any
distant country. The land was rich with vines, mulberry trees and rice
plantations, but certainly not picturesque. The grapes were being
picked, and we met everywhere here and in Bologna waggons bearing
magnificent casks for the reception of the grapes. These carts have
a great beam from back to front elaborately carved and ornamented
with colour, and wheels also carved and ornamented. They are really
very handsome and put one in mind of the framework for guns of Queen
Elizabeth’s time. They are always drawn by white oxen.
_Here the_ Brick and Marble _volume takes up the tale. To 1872
belongs a notebook particularly spirited in text and drawings.
It opens:_
1872--With M. S. and Jessie Holland (afterwards J. M. A. Street)
_February 24._
Left London at 8.35, and reached Paris at 7 A.M. ...
Towns generally built on hills. Curious number of churches in which
the tower and spire at one end and a very high choir at the other
have a low nave between them. The scenery has the large French
character, owing to absence of hedgerows and the very long lines of
trees--generally lanky poplars closely set. Just before Dijon, at
Plombières, I saw a very pretty tiled spire, tiles of golden yellow,
green, etc., very rich and charming in colour;--green not at all
blue-green.
Reached Mâcon at 8.30 and after coffee walked out to try to see
something. Moon rose beautifully over the opposite side of the Saône,
here a very fine looking river. Walked about nearly in vain but came at
last on remains of a church of some interest.[10] It has two octagonal
towers, the lower part of which seems to be Romanesque, and a nave of
some forty feet long with an enormous central doorway of the fifteenth
century, and aisle arches on each side of it (now glazed) of the
twelfth century,--choir entirely destroyed, and a small cloister arcade
built up in front. The whole has been all but destroyed and then I
suppose just patched up by some good-intentioned antiquary. It is (at
least in the dark) an architectural puzzle.
_February 25._
Called at 4.30 and off by train for Genoa via Turin at 6 A.M. As we
left and crossed the Saône saw that the church I had discovered last
night was the only old looking church, and that the cathedral is an
entirely new stone building. It was a fine frosty morning and we could
do no more than keep ourselves warm by shutting up windows, and so
seeing but little through the hoar frost on the glass.
At Culoz we had a second breakfast and found the hills all about us
suddenly looking like mountains owing to the snow on all their higher
points. When we came back from Geneva last year, fresh from the Alps,
we hardly deigned to look at them, and to-day they seem to all of
us about as lovely and grand as they could be. At Culoz we changed
carriages and then, keeping by the pretty Lac du Bourget, were soon at
Chambéry, and then all the way to Modane we entertained ourselves by
the discovery, first on one side then on the other, of snow mountains
of the first magnitude! At Modane carriages are changed again for
Italy, passports are examined, and then we start for the tunnel. The
railway runs round Lons-le-Bourg, where we used to take sledges for the
Mont Cenis, and then ascends winding round until the mountain above
Modane is reached. Here the tunnel begins and we were just twenty-six
minutes passing through it. I promised every one spring, oranges in
fruit, and trees in full foliage when we really reached Italy; but it
was just the opposite, for there was more snow, by very much, when we
reached Bardonnecchia than when we left Modane. We caught one or two
views of churches and I just managed to secure a note of Susa seen in
the most picturesque way far below us. We reached Turin at 6.42, got
some dinner at the railway station and had some much too sweet _vin
d’Asti_, and started again at 7.35 for Genoa, where we arrived at
midnight.
_February 29_, GENOA.