NICE, January 28, 1765.
DEAR SIR,--Pisa is a fine old city that strikes you with the same
veneration you would feel at sight of an antient temple which bears the
marks of decay, without being absolutely dilapidated. The houses are
well built, the streets open, straight, and well paved; the shops well
furnished; and the markets well supplied: there are some elegant
palaces, designed by great masters. The churches are built with taste,
and tolerably ornamented. There is a beautiful wharf of freestone on
each side of the river Arno, which runs through the city, and three
bridges thrown over it, of which that in the middle is of marble, a
pretty piece of architecture: but the number of inhabitants is very
inconsiderable; and this very circumstance gives it an air of majestic
solitude, which is far from being unpleasant to a man of a
contemplative turn of mind. For my part, I cannot bear the tumult of a
populous commercial city; and the solitude that reigns in Pisa would
with me be a strong motive to choose it as a place of residence. Not
that this would be the only inducement for living at Pisa. Here is some
good company, and even a few men of taste and learning. The people in
general are counted sociable and polite; and there is great plenty of
provisions, at a very reasonable rate. At some distance from the more
frequented parts of the city, a man may hire a large house for thirty
crowns a year: but near the center, you cannot have good lodgings,
ready furnished, for less than a scudo (about five shillings) a day.
The air in summer is reckoned unwholesome by the exhalations arising
from stagnant water in the neighbourhood of the city, which stands in
the midst of a fertile plain, low and marshy: yet these marshes have
been considerably drained, and the air is much meliorated. As for the
Arno, it is no longer navigated by vessels of any burthen. The
university of Pisa is very much decayed; and except the little business
occasioned by the emperor's gallies, which are built in this town,
[This is a mistake. No gallies have been built here for a great many
years, and the dock is now converted into stables for the Grand Duke's
Horse Guards.] I know of no commerce it carried on: perhaps the
inhabitants live on the produce of the country, which consists of corn,
wine, and cattle. They are supplied with excellent water for drinking,
by an aqueduct consisting of above five thousand arches, begun by
Cosmo, and finished by Ferdinand I. Grand-dukes of Tuscany; it conveys
the water from the mountains at the distance of five miles. This noble
city, formerly the capital of a flourishing and powerful republic,
which contained above one hundred and fifty thousand inhabitants,
within its walls, is now so desolate that grass grows in the open
streets; and the number of its people do not exceed sixteen thousand.
You need not doubt but I visited the Campanile, or hanging-tower, which
is a beautiful cylinder of eight stories, each adorned with a round of
columns, rising one above another. It stands by the cathedral, and
inclines so far on one side from the perpendicular, that in dropping a
plummet from the top, which is one hundred and eighty-eight feet high,
it falls sixteen feet from the base. For my part, I should never have
dreamed that this inclination proceeded from any other cause, than an
accidental subsidence of the foundation on this side, if some
connoisseurs had not taken great pains to prove it was done on purpose
by the architect. Any person who has eyes may see that the pillars on
that side are considerably sunk; and this is the case with the very
threshold of the door by which you enter. I think it would have been a
very preposterous ambition in the architects, to show how far they
could deviate from the perpendicular in this construction; because in
that particular any common mason could have rivalled them; [All the
world knows that a Building with such Inclination may be carried up
till a line drawn from the Centre of Gravity falls without the
Circumference of the Base.] and if they really intended it as a
specimen of their art, they should have shortened the pilasters on that
side, so as to exhibit them intire, without the appearance of sinking.
These leaning towers are not unfrequent in Italy; there is one at
Bologna, another at Venice, a third betwixt Venice and Ferrara, and a
fourth at Ravenna; and the inclination in all of them has been supposed
owing to the foundations giving way on one side only.
In the cathedral, which is a large Gothic pile, [This Edifice is not
absolutely Gothic. It was built in the Twelfth Century after the Design
of a Greek Architect from Constantinople, where by that time the art
was much degenerated. The Pillars of Granite are mostly from the
Islands of Ebba and Giglia on the coast of Tuscany, where those
quarries were worked by the antient Romans. The Giullo, and the verde
antico are very beautiful species of marble, yellow and green; the
first, antiently called marmor numidicum, came from Africa; the other
was found (according to Strabo) on the mons Taygetus in Lacedemonia:
but, at present, neither the one nor the other is to be had except
among the ruins of antiquity.] there is a great number of massy pillars
of porphyry, granite, jasper, giullo, and verde antico, together with
some good pictures and statues: but the greatest curiosity is that of
the brass-gates, designed and executed by John of Bologna,
representing, embossed in different compartments, the history of the
Old and New Testament. I was so charmed with this work, that I could
have stood a whole day to examine and admire it. In the Baptisterium,
which stands opposite to this front, there are some beautiful marbles,
particularly the font, and a pulpit, supported by the statues of
different animals.
Between the cathedral and this building, about one hundred paces on one
side, is the famous burying-ground, called Campo Santo, from its being
covered with earth brought from Jerusalem. It is an oblong square,
surrounded by a very high wall, and always kept shut. Within-side there
is a spacious corridore round the whole space, which is a noble walk
for a contemplative philosopher. It is paved chiefly with flat
grave-stones: the walls are painted in fresco by Ghiotto, Giottino,
Stefano, Bennoti, Bufalmaco, and some others of his cotemporaries and
disciples, who flourished immediately after the restoration of
painting. The subjects are taken from the Bible. Though the manner is
dry, the drawing incorrect, the design generally lame, and the
colouring unnatural; yet there is merit in the expression: and the
whole remains as a curious monument of the efforts made by this noble
art immediately after her revival. [The History of Job by Giotto is
much admired.] Here are some deceptions in perspective equally
ingenious and pleasing; particularly the figures of certain animals,
which exhibit exactly the same appearance, from whatever different
points of view they are seen. One division of the burying-ground
consists of a particular compost, which in nine days consumes the dead
bodies to the bones: in all probability, it is no other than common
earth mixed with quick-lime. At one corner of the corridore, there are
the pictures of three bodies represented in the three different stages
of putrefaction which they undergo when laid in this composition. At
the end of the three first days, the body is bloated and swelled, and
the features are enlarged and distorted to such a degree, as fills the
spectator with horror. At the sixth day, the swelling is subsided, and
all the muscular flesh hangs loosened from the bones: at the ninth,
nothing but the skeleton remains. There is a small neat chapel at one
end of the Campo Santo, with some tombs, on one of which is a beautiful
bust by Buona Roti. [Here is a sumptuous cenotaph erected by Pope
Gregory XIII. to the memory of his brother Giovanni Buoncampagni. It is
called the Monumentum Gregorianum, of a violet-coloured marble from
Scravezza in this neighbourhood, adorned with a couple of columns of
Touchstone, and two beautiful spherical plates of Alabaster.] At the
other end of the corridore, there is a range of antient sepulchral
stones ornamented with basso-relievo brought hither from different
parts by the Pisan Fleets in the course of their expeditions. I was
struck with the figure of a woman lying dead on a tomb-stone, covered
with a piece of thin drapery, so delicately cut as to shew all the
flexures of the attitude, and even all the swellings and sinuosities of
the muscles. Instead of stone, it looks like a sheet of wet linen. [One
of these antiquities representing the Hunting of Meleager was converted
into a coffin for the Countess Beatrice, mother of the famous Countess
Mathilda; it is now fixed to the outside of the church wall just by one
of the doors, and is a very elegant piece of sculpture. Near the same
place is a fine pillar of Porphyry supporting the figure of a Lion, and
a kind of urn which seems to be a Sarcophagus, though an inscription
round the Base declares it is a Talentum in which the antient Pisans
measured the Census or Tax which they payed to Augustus: but in what
metal or specie this Census was payed we are left to divine. There are
likewise in the Campo Santo two antique Latin edicts of the Pisan
Senate injoining the citizens to go into mourning for the Death of
Caius and Lucius Caesar the Sons of Agrippa, and heirs declared of the
Emperor. Fronting this Cemetery, on the other side of the Piazza of the
Dome, is a large, elegant Hospital in which the sick are conveniently
and comfortably lodged, entertained, and attended.]
For four zechines I hired a return-coach and four from Pisa to
Florence. This road, which lies along the Arno, is very good; and the
country is delightful, variegated with hill and vale, wood and water,
meadows and corn-fields, planted and inclosed like the counties of
Middlesex and Hampshire; with this difference, however, that all the
trees in this tract were covered with vines, and the ripe clusters
black and white, hung down from every bough in a most luxuriant and
romantic abundance. The vines in this country are not planted in rows,
and propped with sticks, as in France and the county of Nice, but twine
around the hedge-row trees, which they almost quite cover with their
foliage and fruit. The branches of the vine are extended from tree to
tree, exhibiting beautiful festoons of real leaves, tendrils, and
swelling clusters a foot long. By this oeconomy the ground of the
inclosure is spared for corn, grass, or any other production. The trees
commonly planted for the purpose of sustaining the vines, are maple,
elm, and aller, with which last the banks of the Arno abound. [It would
have been still more for the advantage of the Country and the Prospect,
if instead of these they had planted fruit trees for the purpose.] This
river, which is very inconsiderable with respect to the quantity of
water, would be a charming pastoral stream, if it was transparent; but
it is always muddy and discoloured. About ten or a dozen miles below
Florence, there are some marble quarries on the side of it, from whence
the blocks are conveyed in boats, when there is water enough in the
river to float them, that is after heavy rains, or the melting of the
snow upon the mountains of Umbria, being part of the Apennines, from
whence it takes its rise.
Florence is a noble city, that still retains all the marks of a
majestic capital, such as piazzas, palaces, fountains, bridges,
statues, and arcades. I need not tell you that the churches here are
magnificent, and adorned not only with pillars of oriental granite,
porphyry, Jasper, verde antico, and other precious stones; but also
with capital pieces of painting by the most eminent masters. Several of
these churches, however, stand without fronts, for want of money to
complete the plans. It may also appear superfluous to mention my having
viewed the famous gallery of antiquities, the chapel of St. Lorenzo,
the palace of Pitti, the cathedral, the baptisterium, Ponte de Trinita,
with its statues, the triumphal arch, and every thing which is commonly
visited in this metropolis. But all these objects having been
circumstantially described by twenty different authors of travels, I
shall not trouble you with a repetition of trite observations.
That part of the city which stands on each side of the river, makes a
very elegant appearance, to which the four bridges and the stone-quay
between them, contribute in a great measure. I lodged at the widow
Vanini's, an English house delightfully situated in this quarter. The
landlady, who is herself a native of England, we found very obliging.
The lodging-rooms are comfortable; and the entertainment is good and
reasonable. There is a considerable number of fashionable people at
Florence, and many of them in good circumstances. They affect a gaiety
in their dress, equipage, and conversation; but stand very much on
their punctilio with strangers; and will not, without great reluctance,
admit into their assemblies any lady of another country, whose noblesse
is not ascertained by a title. This reserve is in some measure
excusable among a people who are extremely ignorant of foreign customs,
and who know that in their own country, every person, even the most
insignificant, who has any pretensions to family, either inherits, or
assumes the title of principe, conte, or marchese.
With all their pride, however, the nobles of Florence are humble enough
to enter into partnership with shop-keepers, and even to sell wine by
retail. It is an undoubted fact, that in every palace or great house in
this city, there is a little window fronting the street, provided with
an iron-knocker, and over it hangs an empty flask, by way of sign-post.
Thither you send your servant to buy a bottle of wine. He knocks at the
little wicket, which is opened immediately by a domestic, who supplies
him with what he wants, and receives the money like the waiter of any
other cabaret. It is pretty extraordinary, that it should not be deemed
a disparagement in a nobleman to sell half a pound of figs, or a palm
of ribbon or tape, or to take money for a flask of sour wine; and yet
be counted infamous to match his daughter in the family of a person who
has distinguished himself in any one of the learned professions.
Though Florence be tolerably populous, there seems to be very little
trade of any kind in it: but the inhabitants flatter themselves with
the prospect of reaping great advantage from the residence of one of
the arch-dukes, for whose reception they are now repairing the palace
of Pitti. I know not what the revenues of Tuscany may amount to, since
the succession of the princes of Lorraine; but, under the last dukes of
the Medici family, they were said to produce two millions of crowns,
equal to five hundred thousand pounds sterling. These arose from a very
heavy tax upon land and houses, the portions of maidens, and suits at
law, besides the duties upon traffick, a severe gabelle upon the
necessaries of life, and a toll upon every eatable entered into this
capital. If we may believe Leti, the grand duke was then able to raise
and maintain an army of forty thousand infantry, and three thousand
horse; with twelve gallies, two galeasses, and twenty ships of war. I
question if Tuscany can maintain at present above one half of such an
armament. He that now commands the emperor's navy, consisting of a few
frigates, is an Englishman, called Acton, who was heretofore captain of
a ship in our East India company's service. He has lately embraced the
catholic religion, and been created admiral of Tuscany.
There is a tolerable opera in Florence for the entertainment of the
best company, though they do not seem very attentive to the musick.
Italy is certainly the native country of this art; and yet, I do not
find the people in general either more musically inclined, or better
provided with ears than their neighbours. Here is also a wretched troop
of comedians for the burgeois, and lower class of people: but what
seems most to suit the taste of all ranks, is the exhibition of church
pageantry. I had occasion to see a procession, where all the noblesse
of the city attended in their coaches, which filled the whole length of
the great street called the Corso. It was the anniversary of a
charitable institution in favour of poor maidens, a certain number of
whom are portioned every year. About two hundred of these virgins
walked in procession, two and two together, cloathed in violet-coloured
wide gowns, with white veils on their heads, and made a very classical
appearance. They were preceded and followed by an irregular mob of
penitents in sack-cloth, with lighted tapers, and monks carrying
crucifixes, bawling and bellowing the litanies: but the great object
was a figure of the Virgin Mary, as big as the life, standing within a
gilt frame, dressed in a gold stuff, with a large hoop, a great
quantity of false jewels, her face painted and patched, and her hair
frizzled and curled in the very extremity of the fashion. Very little
regard had been paid to the image of our Saviour on the cross; but when
his lady-mother appeared on the shoulders of three or four lusty
friars, the whole populace fell upon their knees in the dirt. This
extraordinary veneration paid to the Virgin, must have been derived
originally from the French, who pique themselves on their gallantry to
the fair sex.
Amidst all the scenery of the Roman catholic religion, I have never yet
seen any of the spectators affected at heart, or discover the least
signs of fanaticism. The very disciplinants, who scourge themselves in
the Holy-week, are generally peasants or parties hired for the purpose.
Those of the confrairies, who have an ambition to distinguish
themselves on such occasions, take care to secure their backs from the
smart, by means of secret armour, either women's boddice, or quilted
jackets. The confrairies are fraternities of devotees, who inlist
themselves under the banners of particular saints. On days of
procession they appear in a body dressed as penitents and masked, and
distinguished by crosses on their habits. There is scarce an
individual, whether noble or plebeian, who does not belong to one of
these associations, which may be compared to the FreeMasons,
Gregoreans, and Antigallicans of England.
Just without one of the gates of Florence, there is a triumphal arch
erected on occasion of the late emperor's making his public entry, when
he succeeded to the dukedom of Tuscany: and herein the summer evenings,
the quality resort to take the air in their coaches. Every carriage
stops, and forms a little separate conversazione. The ladies sit
within, and the cicisbei stand on the foot-boards, on each side of the
coach, entertaining them with their discourse. It would be no
unpleasant inquiry to trace this sort of gallantry to its original, and
investigate all its progress. The Italians, having been accused of
jealousy, were resolved to wipe off the reproach, and, seeking to avoid
it for the future, have run into the other extreme. I know it is
generally supposed that the custom of choosing cicisbei, was calculated
to prevent the extinction of families, which would otherwise often
happen in consequence of marriages founded upon interest, without any
mutual affection in the contracting parties. How far this political
consideration may have weighed against the jealous and vindictive
temper of the Italians, I will not pretend to judge: but, certain it
is, every married lady in this country has her cicisbeo, or servente,
who attends her every where, and on all occasions; and upon whose
privileges the husband dares not encroach, without incurring the
censure and ridicule of the whole community. For my part, I would
rather be condemned for life to the gallies, than exercise the office
of a cicisbeo, exposed to the intolerable caprices and dangerous
resentment of an Italian virago. I pretend not to judge of the national
character, from my own observation: but, if the portraits drawn by
Goldoni in his Comedies are taken from nature, I would not hesitate to
pronounce the Italian women the most haughty, insolent, capricious, and
revengeful females on the face of the earth. Indeed their resentments
are so cruelly implacable, and contain such a mixture of perfidy, that,
in my opinion, they are very unfit subjects for comedy, whose province
it is, rather to ridicule folly than to stigmatize such atrocious vice.
You have often heard it said, that the purity of the Italian is to be
found in the lingua Toscana, and bocca Romana. Certain it is, the
pronunciation of the Tuscans is disagreeably guttural: the letters C
and G they pronounce with an aspiration, which hurts the ear of an
Englishman; and is I think rather rougher than that of the X, in
Spanish. It sounds as if the speaker had lost his palate. I really
imagined the first man I heard speak in Pisa, had met with that
misfortune in the course of his amours.
One of the greatest curiosities you meet with in Italy, is the
Improvisatore; such is the name given to certain individuals, who have
the surprising talent of reciting verses extempore, on any subject you
propose. Mr. Corvesi, my landlord, has a son, a Franciscan friar, who
is a great genius in this way.
When the subject is given, his brother tunes his violin to accompany
him, and he begins to rehearse in recitative, with wonderful fluency
and precision. Thus he will, at a minute's warning, recite two or three
hundred verses, well turned, and well adapted, and generally mingled
with an elegant compliment to the company. The Italians are so fond of
poetry, that many of them, have the best part of Ariosto, Tasso, and
Petrarch, by heart; and these are the great sources from which the
Improvisatori draw their rhimes, cadence, and turns of expression. But,
lest you should think there is neither rhime nor reason in protracting
this tedious epistle, I shall conclude it with the old burden of my
song, that I am always--Your affectionate humble servant.