Ravenna is so remote from the route of general travel in Italy, that
I am certain you can have no late news from there, nor can I bring you
anything much later than the sixth century. Yet, if you were to see
Ravenna, you would say that that is late enough. I am surprised that a
city which contains the most interesting early Christian churches and
mosaics, is the richest in undisturbed specimens of early Christian
art, and contains the only monuments of Roman emperors still in their
original positions, should be so seldom visited. Ravenna has been dead
for some centuries; and because nobody has cared to bury it, its ancient
monuments are yet above ground. Grass grows in its wide streets, and its
houses stand in a sleepy, vacant contemplation of each other: the wind
must like to mourn about its silent squares. The waves of the Adriatic
once brought the commerce of the East to its wharves; but the deposits
of the Po and the tides have, in process of time, made it an inland
town, and the sea is four miles away.
In the time of Augustus, Ravenna was a favorite Roman port and harbor
for fleets of war and merchandise. There Theodoric, the great king of
the Goths, set up his palace, and there is his enormous mausoleum. As
early as A. D. 44 it became an episcopal see, with St. Apollinaris, a
disciple of St. Peter, for its bishop. There some of the later Roman
emperors fixed their residences, and there they repose. In and about it
revolved the adventurous life of Galla Placidia, a woman of considerable
talent and no principle, the daughter of Theodosius (the great
Theodosius, who subdued the Arian heresy, the first emperor baptized in
the true faith of the Trinity, the last who had a spark of genius), the
sister of one emperor, and the mother of another,--twice a slave, once
a queen, and once an empress; and she, too, rests there in the great
mausoleum builded for her. There, also, lies Dante, in his tomb “by the
upbraiding shore;” rejected once of ungrateful Florence, and forever
after passionately longed for. There, in one of the earliest Christian
churches in existence, are the fine mosaics of the Emperor Justinian
and Theodora, the handsome courtesan whom he raised to the dignity
and luxury of an empress on his throne in Constantinople. There is the
famous forest of pines, stretching--unbroken twenty miles down the coast
to Rimini, in whose cool and breezy glades Dante and Boccaccio walked
and meditated, which Dryden has commemorated, and Byron has invested
with the fascination of his genius; and under the whispering boughs
of which moved the glittering cavalcade which fetched the bride to
Rimini,--the fair Francesca, whose sinful confession Dante heard in
hell.
We went down to Ravenna from Bologna one afternoon, through a country
level and rich, riding along toward hazy evening, the land getting
flatter as we proceeded (you know, there is a difference between level
and flat), through interminable mulberry-trees and vines, and fields
with the tender green of spring, with church spires in the rosy horizon;
on till the meadows became marshes, in which millions of frogs sang the
overture of the opening year. Our arrival, I have reason to believe, was
an event in the old town. We had a crowd of moldy loafers to witness it
at the station, not one of whom had ambition enough to work to earn a
sou by lifting our traveling-bags. We had our hotel to ourselves, and
wished that anybody else had it. The rival house was quite aware of
our advent, and watched us with jealous eyes; and we, in turn, looked
wistfully at it, for our own food was so scarce that, as an old traveler
says, we feared that we shouldn't have enough, until we saw it on the
table, when its quality made it appear too much. The next morning, when
I sallied out to hire a conveyance, I was an object of interest to the
entire population, who seemed to think it very odd that any one should
walk about and explore the quiet streets. If I were to describe Ravenna,
I should say that it is as flat as Holland and as lively as New London.
There are broad streets, with high houses, that once were handsome,
palaces that were once the abode of luxury, gardens that still bloom,
and churches by the score. It is an open gate through which one walks
unchallenged into the past, with little to break the association with
the early Christian ages, their monuments undimmed by time, untouched by
restoration and innovation, the whole struck with ecclesiastical death.
With all that we saw that day,--churches, basilicas, mosaics, statues,
mausoleums,--I will not burden these pages; but I will set down is
enough to give you the local color, and to recall some of the most
interesting passages in Christian history in this out-of-the-way city on
the Adriatic.
Our first pilgrimage was to the Church of St. Apollinare Nuova; but
why it is called new I do not know, as Theodoric built it for an
Arian cathedral in about the year 500. It is a noble interior,
having twenty-four marble columns of gray Cippolino, brought from
Constantinople, with composite capitals, on each of which is an impost
with Latin crosses sculptured on it. These columns support round arches,
which divide the nave from the aisles, and on the whole length of the
wall of the nave so supported are superb mosaics, full-length figures,
in colors as fresh as if done yesterday, though they were executed
thirteen hundred years ago. The mosaic on the left side--which is,
perhaps, the finest one of the period in existence--is interesting on
another account. It represents the city of Classis, with sea and ships,
and a long procession of twenty-two virgins presenting offerings to
the Virgin and Child, seated on a throne. The Virgin is surrounded by
angels, and has a glory round her head, which shows that homage is being
paid to her. It has been supposed, from the early monuments of Christian
art, that the worship of the Virgin is of comparatively recent origin;
but this mosaic would go to show that Mariolatry was established before
the end of the sixth century. Near this church is part of the front
of the palace of Theodoric, in which the Exarchs and Lombard kings
subsequently resided. Its treasures and marbles Charlemagne carried off
to Germany.