The weather was cold, and lunch hardly helped to warm us, so we
speedily set out to get a brisk walk and see the lions. We had hardly
emerged from the door of the Hotel de Londres when we were waylaid by
one of the loitering guides. We could not shake him off, and engaged
him at 3 francs. He proved of little use beyond taking us the most
direct route to the objects in view by a handsome bridge over the Arno,
which is probably from 300 to 400 feet wide; but it was then in full
flood, the snow melting on the mountains bringing down much water.
Proceeding up a long street, we came at the end of it, on the outskirts
of the town, to the Piazza del Duomo, where are congregated all that
may be said to make Pisa famous in the world—its cathedral, its
baptistery, its Campo Santo, and its leaning tower. Here we stood face
to face with what had been familiar to me through pictures from boyhood
as ‘the seventh wonder of the world.’ Whether it be the seventh or the
seventieth wonder of the world, I don’t know, but it was with a strange
feeling I thus for the first time saw the reality. The day was too cold
to venture the ascent to the top, from which there is an extensive
view. Controversy exists as to whether the fact of the inclination is
due to design or to subsidence of the ground. I think the latter is the
real or more likely cause, the more especially as to all appearance the
baptistery also is off the vertical. The bell tower or Campanile (178
feet high) is one of those detached belfries not uncommon in Italy, and
of which few specimens occur in England. A rather uneasy feeling is
produced in hearing the bells ring, and thinking of the vibration to
which doubtless the motion subjects a building which seems as if ready
of itself to topple over. We were glad to take refuge from the cold
in the cathedral, constructed of marble, and eight hundred years old.
Unfortunately, the sun being under cloud, we could not see it to the
same advantage as if it had been a clear day. In length it exceeds 300
feet. The transept is over 250 feet. The interior, divided into aisles
by double rows of columns, is a wonderful collection of enrichment of
all kinds—pictures, statuary, carved marble, bronzes, articles in gold
and silver, and finely–ornamented pulpits and altars. We afterwards
saw many cathedrals and churches in Italy, but none to compare with
this cathedral in its peculiar description of magnificence. St.
Peter’s of Rome and St. Mark’s of Venice have their own distinguishing
characteristics entitling them to the first rank, but the Cathedral
of Pisa is just as much worthy of honour in its own line for what it
contains.
* * * * *
From the cathedral we stepped across the piazza to the baptistery,
where we were so fortunate as to witness two new–born unhappy infants
undergoing the ceremony of baptism; which, indeed, was rather a
serious ordeal, as the poor little things, not a day old, were well
rubbed with oil, besides being sprinkled with water and tickled with
salt.[28] The priest rattled through the service with great rapidity,
the women uttering the responsive amen at apparently the right places
with promptitude, as if quite accustomed to it. Before the priest came
in, I asked one of the women what was to be the name. ‘Would you give
it?’ was the reply. The building, thus detached from the church like
the Campanile (of which other specimens occur in Italy), is circular,
100 feet in diameter, surmounted by a dome 190 feet high. It is an
exquisite piece of workmanship, the font and pulpit being peculiarly
rich; the sculpture outside is also good. Within the building there was
a great ring of sound or hollow echo when the priest read the service.
* * * * *
Leaving the baptistery, we rung the bell at the door of the Campo
Santo, and were admitted. It is small in size compared with that at
Genoa, and of a very different description and interest. Its age is
great, about seven hundred years having passed since it was founded. In
shape it is a parallelogram, probably about 400 feet long by about 150
feet wide. The walls are covered with curious frescoes, some of which
are getting indistinct. Round the enclosure and by the walls, under
cover, many fine monuments in marble, old and new, mingled together,
are disposed more like objects in a museum than as forming memorials in
a place of sepulture. The interior court or burial–ground is said to
have been made up of earth (fifty–three ship–loads) brought from Mount
Calvary or some other place near Jerusalem.
* * * * *
In returning to town, we saw many shops filled attractively with
Italian sculpture in alabaster and in Carrara marble. Alabaster,
however, is soft, and is more liable to injury than marble, the groups
in which material are much dearer, but at the same time fairly moderate
compared with prices at home, although in computing price the risk and
expense of carriage have to be added.
The town of Pisa is situated upon both sides of the Arno; the streets,
wide and lined with high houses and other buildings, look tidy and
clean; but about all there is a deserted look, although the population
is stated at 50,000, and the place, which is a University town, is
compactly built. It has a mild humid atmosphere, said, rightly or
wrongly, to have curative properties for those affected with asthma.
Centuries ago it was a leading commercial city, the great rival of
Genoa, with which it was long at war, and to which it ultimately
succumbed. Merchants had not at that time learnt that their true power
and proper glory lies not in war but in commerce.
* * * * *
The next day was fine, with a bright sun to warm the air; and we
took advantage of it to drive to Lucca, said in guide–books to be
fifteen miles distant by rail: by road it seemed little more than ten.
Calculating according to Bædeker, we should only have had, by time
occupied (six hours), to pay 6 francs for the carriage; but the driver
asked 15 francs, and agreed to go for 12½ which we were informed was
ample fare. On return he wished us to go by some other route, and if we
had agreed, it would, we were told, have enabled him to make his own
terms at the end of the drive. The road to Lucca is well–formed, hard,
and level, and would therefore seem to have been one of the old Roman
roads, the more especially as it lies between what were two ancient
Roman cities. It was a most delightful drive through many picturesque
valleys, and through a mountainous country, and it would have been more
so two months later. At this time the trees were bare. On the way, near
Ripafrata, a bold, steep rock rises like an island from the plain,
crowned by a small Italian town, which our driver named Lugliano—a very
striking object, especially with the snow–capped Apennines peering in
the background over the nearer hills, quite an artist’s study,—and of
which, stopping the carriage for a few minutes, I made a rapid sketch.
As a characteristic specimen of ‘a city set upon a hill,’ of which we
afterwards saw so many in Italy, the drawing is given in illustration.
Lucca is a fortified town, in regular wall and ditch formation, three
miles in circuit, and there is a good deal to see in it. We visited the
cathedral, and walked round a portion of the ramparts, from which views
are had towards the mountains which surround Lucca.
* * * * *
There are two routes from Pisa to Rome—one by Leghorn and the coast,
which would have obliged us either to stop the night at the uninviting
town of Civita Vecchia, or to have arrived at Rome late in the evening.
We chose the other route by Sienna. To go by Sienna, the traveller
proceeds eastward about half–way along the railway to Florence, and
changes carriages at Empoli. From Empoli the railway strikes off
southward to Sienna and Rome. Sienna stands high, being 1330 feet above
the level of the sea, and is considered a place of summer residence for
its coolness.
[Illustration: A CITY SET UPON A HILL, ON ROAD TO LUCCA.]
I was therefore somewhat apprehensive, considering the cold weather we
had endured, lest it might be too cold. Although, however, it stands
high above the level of the sea, it does not seem to be more than 200
feet above the level of the surrounding country, or of the railway,
and we did not find it very cold. But a change had taken place in the
weather, and it was again a fine cloudless day. Having decided to go by
Sienna, we could not resist making another excursion to the cathedral
before starting by the mid–day train, and were all but tempted to
ascend the Campanile. But to an invalid it looked chilly outside, and
the height deterring; and I being the only one who might have gone, the
custodier could not take me alone, the rule, to guard against accidents
or suicide, being that not less than three must make the ascent at a
time. The cathedral looked much finer in the sunshine, and we could
have lingered long examining it in detail, and would gladly have had
there the wearisome time, well–nigh an hour, we were, according to
Italian custom, required to spend in the _salle–d’attente_ of the
railway. The journey from Pisa to Sienna, about seventy miles, is
through a mountainous country, with some places of interest by the way,
though our prospect was much contracted by reason of a passenger in the
carriage who would draw down all the blinds on his side and read a book
the whole way, till his wife, out of shame, seeing our disappointment,
persuaded him to allow one of the three blinds on his side to be
raised, there being no sun peering in even to justify an excuse, which,
indeed, never was made. In four hours and twenty minutes we arrived at
our destination.