Passing on to the last of the church edifices to be described, we come
to the cathedral of Milan. A good picture is necessary to give even a
faint impression of the richness and harmonious proportions of this
wonderful building; but it is possible, from description, to form a
correct conception of its magnitude, and of its principal parts. Its
length is four hundred and eighty-five feet; breadth, two hundred and
fifty-two; breadth across the transepts, two hundred and eighty-seven
feet; hight of the nave, one hundred and fifty-three feet. The hight
from the pavement to the top of the crown of the Madonna, on the summit
of the spire, is three hundred and fifty-five feet. This cathedral is
one of the most stupendous piles ever erected; but it is not yet
finished, although it has been almost five hundred years in building.
Several duomos have been destroyed that once occupied this place. The
first cathedral was destroyed by Attila in the fifth century; the second
was burnt by accident in 1075; and the third was partially ruined by
Frederic Barbarossa. A lofty bell-tower, demolished by him, crushed the
duomo in its fall. The first stone of the present cathedral was laid in
March, 1386, by G. G. Visconti.
The interior presents a wilderness of columns, some of which are almost
twelve feet in diameter at the base, and more than eight in the shaft.
Fifty-two pillars, of the hight of eighty feet, support the pointed
arches on which the roof rests. The exterior shows equally a wilderness
of statues and pinnacles. Each pinnacle, if placed on the ground, would
appear a considerable spire. The statues already in place number three
thousand, and forty-live hundred are necessary to carry out the plan.
Each pinnacle or minaret is crowned by a statue, and there are many more
in the niches, among the pinnacles, as well as in other situations. In
order to become acquainted with them, you must ascend to the roof, and
then you will see life and meaning in them all; if seen from below, they
appear indeed as a multitude of statues in marble, but without any
obvious design. Whatever the moral may be, it is exhibited at an immense
expense of treasure; but, in Italy, it is a national passion, which has
come down to them from the Romans, to people their ideal world with
marble forms, commemorating those who once lived on earth, or the
imaginary beings of allegory and of a fabulous mythology. In this
cathedral, in addition to statues of the size of life or beyond its
dimensions, there are many of inferior magnitude: little pretty cherubs
and imaginative beings are seen, single or in clusters. In all parts of
the building, there are delicate and elaborately wrought carvings in
marble, and even in situations where they can not be seen except by a
diligent explorer. Ascending to the roof of the cathedral, and walking
over it, the traveler will observe that it is composed of massive blocks
of marble accurately adjusted to each other, and although the weight is
immense, no cracks are visible. One moves as freely upon the roof, and
with as much confidence as if a mountain of marble were beneath his
feet; and the view from it is as glorious as it could be from a mountain
rearing its lofty head in place of this structure reared by the art of
man!