PISTOJA, THE 'CITY OF CINO' - The Medici Balls: Seven little journeys in Tuscany - 8

PISTOJA, THE "CITY OF CINO"

SPRING day comes suddenly in Val d'Arno when the air is a thought too warm and over-rich with languorous fragrance from myriad blossoms. Then thirst grows imperious for the uplands, for Tuscan hillsides clad with chestnut-trees overshadowing uncut grass, through which sweeps an eager breeze caught from the snow-capped Apennines. On such a day we recall Pistoja, once seen on our way southward from Bologna, and ever since haunting our minds like a sweet vision. We had crossed the watershed which defines the boundary between Emilia and Tuscany, and were following, by many a curve and loop, the Reno's tortuous course, when suddenly we sighted, perched loftily upon the spur of the Apennines, a city's gleaming dome and towers; another turn, and she was lost; again, from some hill-spanning gallery, or viaduct, we snatched another entrancing glance, and so, by coy circlings down the pass, we drew nearer and nearer until the train paused for a moment without the gates of Pistoja, then carried us on to Florence, twenty miles away. But we had treasured always in our mind the vision of that city, with gleaming dome and towers, that keeps her watch at the northern gate of Tuscany. Short as is the distance between Florence and Pistoja, there is a marked change in the atmosphere, which acts as a healthy tonic on the dolce far niente of a Florentine spring. We enter Pistoja through the Porta Carratica, or Fiorentino, still emblazoned with the Medici shield, and find ourselves shortly in the very centre of a pleasant, busy city, its clean, wind-swept streets broad and well paved, the principal ones following the lines of the first two mediæval walls, for Pistoja, like Florence, has had three circles, the last of which, built in the fourteenth century, remains almost intact. Along this wall are pleasant walks and a boulevard called the Viale dell'Arcadia, planted with shade-trees and commanding extensive views. If now your conscience stirs actively to "do" Pistoja thoroughly, there's a stiff day's work before you. The list of churches alone is formidable, not counting those which have been diverted from original purposes. Nearly every church contains something worth seeing: paintings and sculptures, three celebrated pulpits at least, tombs, fonts, and Della Robbia reliefs; moreover, there are the libraries and the famous hospital, or Ospedale del Ceppo—altogether an outlook beyond words discouraging. It is better to stand about the Piazza del Duomo, or Cathedral Square, perhaps the most representative one in Tuscany, the centre for a thousand years of the social, civil, and religious interests of the town. Here are the cathedral and Bishop's palace, the Palazzo Pretorio, or Podestà, and the Palazzo Pubblico, or, in other words, the Court House and City Hall, representing the ancient warring powers of Church and State. Here they are on their old battle-field, temporal power jealous of spiritual aggressions. Even the weather-beaten Torre del Podestà is not wholly committed as a campanile, but stands off a little from the cathedral, remembering that it was once the city's watch-tower, its tocsin sounding alarm to Guelf and Ghibelline, blacks and whites, and all invaders. The bishop was no insignificant power when the Commune was struggling for independence. He had his many feudal castles, armed retainers, and vassals; his court dealt sternly with culprits, and his dungeons, under the palace yonder, were more feared than those of the Podestà. Not that the City Fathers were not proud of their powerful bishop and their noble cathedral, dedicated to St. Zeno, and containing the silver altar of San Jacopo, patron saint of the city, which drew crowds of pilgrims every year to worship at the famous shrine. Not a few popes journeyed from Rome to visit the bishop, and noble visitors of every land, from the Emperor of the East to Bonaparte, had filled the square with their trains and followers. But the commune of Pistoja, like many another, had a bitter struggle to keep her footing, though she began well and very early; her first municipal statutes, and good ones they were, too, being framed in 1117, immediately after the death of "the great Countess" Matilda. It was battle royal for many centuries; but now Church and Commune live peacefully side by side, forgetful of the stormy past, except when they turn over their priceless archives, preserved in the chapter of the cathedral and the Palazzo Pubblico, where one may read a thousand interesting and thrilling things concerning the history of Pistoja, of the men who built churches and palaces, and called the great artists of the Renaissance to come and fill them with paintings and sculptures, wood-carving, and metal-work. And the city grew so proud and magnificent that we read of sumptuary laws promulgated to restrain extravagance of nobles and burghers in the matters of dress, jewelry, food, and pomp at funerals. The law of 1439 forbade trimmings of gold and silver brocade, long trains to ladies' dresses, the quality of sleeve-linings, etc. Unluckily, many of the archives belonging to the cathedral were destroyed in the fires of 1108 and 1202; hence the endless discussions as to the city's origin and name. "Etruscan," says one. "Far from it," says another; "I have found a Roman house, mosaic, and coins a dozen feet under the pavement of the square, which must have been the centre of the earliest city." As for its name, some derive it from two Etruscan words, pist (door) and oros (mountain), referring to the position of the city at the entrance of a mountain pass; others get the name from pistores (bakers), the early city having been celebrated for its excellent ovens.

THE LITTLE BROWN BEARS AND THE SHIELD OF PISTOJA

Alinari

PIAZZA DEL DUOMO, PISTOJA

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Alinari Verrocchio

STEMMA OF PISTOJA

PALAZZO PUBBLICO. PISTOJA

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Alinari

BRONZE CANDELABRA (15TH CENTURY)

The Pistoja of to-day is a prosperous and attractive city with good buildings, fine markets, and many industries; she has been noted from time immemorial for her skilled work in iron, bronze, and wood, and her ancient metal-work has been found in Germany and Athens. In her bronze foundries to-day she not only casts bells and small articles, but many statues and groups created by Italian artists are cast in Pistoja. The manufacture of carriages and fine organs is of great importance. The district has four paper-mills, and of the eleven brass foundries in the province five are situated at Pistoja, and many skilled workmen are employed in wood-carving, artistic ironwork, etc. Her trade is mainly in wine, oil, grain, paste alimentare, and cattle. The milk and butter of Pistoja are considered the best in Tuscany. To appreciate the varied productions and interests of the district of Pistoja you must wander about the Piazza del Duomo on market-day when it is filled with booths offering woolen, linen, and cotton stuffs, bright kerchiefs, shawls, shoes, and "notions," displayed in picturesque confusion and colour; a score of red, yellow, and green umbrellas in one corner, or a line of contadini overcoats of a warm brownish-red colour, trimmed with tawny fur and lined with green, delight the eye and are much in demand. Or walk through the Mercato, old as Pistoja herself, where the ancient well indicates the very centre of the first city. Here is certainly every object man can want, and the square blooms daily with all kinds of fresh vegetables and flowers: there are grains and food of every sort; in the season there are piles of yellow cocoons on the pavement; bright-faced old women are roasting chestnuts gathered on the mountain side; pretty baskets of fragrant wild strawberries are proffered by some handsome young girl, and the stall of some descendant of the old race of pistores is hung with rings of sweet, fresh pane nero (brown bread), while various kinds of cheese and the "best butter" await your choice. The markets for fish and meat are in different parts of the city.

Alinari

HEAD OF THE TRAITOR, FILIPPO TEDICI

PALAZZO PUBBLICO. PISTOJA

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By this time the exhilarating, almost heady, mountain air has created a ravenous appetite, and we clamour, above all else, for a taste of the Mercato's tempting products served in appetizing dishes known only to the true Italian chef. Our wishes may be easily gratified at the Albergo Globo e Londra, in Piazza Cino, where cooking is good and native wine excellent. If this luncheon could have been served in a pleasant garden, the only proper banquet-hall for Italy, nothing further could be desired; but it is only fair to warn the traveller who means to sleep in Pistoja that the chambers of the Globo are by no means tidy or attractive.

Alinari

THE CAMPANILE FROM VIA RIPA DEL SALE, PISTOJA

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Alinari

THE LOGGIA, OSPEDALE DEL CEPPO, PISTOJA

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Now for a stroll through the quaint old streets with curious and suggestive names, and a peep into quiet courtyards of palaces deserted by their noble owners, and given over to modest householders and humble artisans. At the corner of Via Abbi Pazienza and the Via de' Rossi is the great palace of the Rossi family, blazoned with many shields of varied quarterings, and from the corner hangs one of the gruesome black heads of the traitor Filippo Tedici, like that on the façade of the Palazzo Pubblico. Many of the oldest streets of Pistoja lead from the Piazza del Duomo, and their names suggest the life of an earlier day: Via Orafi (jewelers) was once devoted to goldsmiths' shops and studios; the Via Stracceria (rags) was so called because clothing of all sizes, colours, and condition was hung to dry from windows and other "coigns of vantage;" and the Via Can Bianco was named in honour of a faithful white dog, whose barking warned his master of the approach of an enemy. Near the east end of the cathedral we may leave the square by the Via Ripa del Sale, a narrow street over-arched by a gallery connecting the Palazzo Pubblico with the duomo, convenient for the worshipful magistrates when they desired to hear mass. This street leads us, with often a backward glance at the campanile, to the Via Filippo Pacini, a broader thoroughfare following the line of the first city wall, and in two minutes we stand in the little irregular square of the Ospedale del Ceppo and before the famous Della Robbia frieze, an experience which, to one of us at least, seems almost a miracle. So many years Pistoja had been merely a dream city, a name—a curious, unreal name—standing only for this little piazza, this loggia, and the brilliant band of varied colour crossing its façade. Those imperfect guide-books of our youth had merely mentioned as important, this glazed terra-cotta frieze, wrought, it seemed to us, through some magic by the members of one family only, the secret of which vanished from the world forever upon the death, in 1529, of the last true Della Robbia, the author of this frieze. Tradition added that the formula for compounding the Della Robbia glaze was supposed to be hidden behind one of the panels, one of which was afterward found broken, the robber leaving no trace of the precious parchment. The panel, "Giving Drink to the Thirsty," was repaired, but not like the others. We can see for ourselves that it is only painted stucco and of later date. This was a story to stir youthful imagination to the highest pitch: a mystery, a secret, a theft—the very stuff that dreams are made of. Italy is full of traditions; even the origin of this self-same hospital is a pretty story, as told by a worthy canon of the cathedral, and who would wish to question it? "The Church of Santa Maria del Ceppo (meaning a dry root) was built near the little stream Brana about 1277, by the pious Theodore and his wife Bandinella, who dedicated it to the Assumption, and placed therein an alms-box for the benefit of the sick and poor. This chest increased little by little, until it became the present hospital. The chiesetta (little church) was incorporated in the large building." Time and the schools have taught us the meretricious value of traditions, but even stripped of all glamour the Della Robbia frieze is unique as an architectural feature, and peculiarly appropriate to the building it adorns. It consists of seven panels, representing the temporal works of mercy as performed by the good brothers of the hospital; between them are figures representing the Virtues: Faith, Hope, Charity, Prudence, and Justice; below appear medallions of the arms of the city, of the hospital (the sprouting root), and the Medici shield; also the Annunciation, Visitation, and Assumption. Of all the panels, the "Sheltering of the Pilgrims," and the "Healing of the Sick," are considered the finest; the figures of the brothers in both have evidently been studied from life, especially that of the physician. More beautiful, however, than any part of the frieze is Benedetto Buglioni's "Coronation of the Virgin," a lunette over the chapel door of excellent workmanship, and in simple colours, white on blue, with crowns of pale yellow. In its modelling and glaze, its seriousness and grace, it almost rivals Luca della Robbia's masterpiece in Pistoja, "The Visitation," in the Church of St. John the Evangelist. If there is a moment to spare we may well slip round the corner for a peep at the Church and Convent of Santa Maria delle Grazie, where a calm-faced sister—one of the good Bandinella's descendants, wearing the pretty wimpled cap of white muslin, designed, it is said, by some tasteful lady of the Medici family—will show us their perfect little Renaissance church and its great treasure, the Lorenzo di Credi Madonna, and also insist gently upon a visit to the Miraculous Bed where once the Madonna reposed. They will further offer to exhibit their store of fine vestments and robes, well worth looking at; but if once we begin looking at churches and vestments there will be no getting back to Florence for a week. But at least we must take leave of our hosts, those stately shades of forceful men belonging to Renaissance Pistoja, who worked and wrought in these streets, whose prowess and policy, wit and learning, are so vivid in men's minds to-day. Pistoja entered with characteristic zest into the spirit of the Renaissance in all its varied aspects; she espoused the new learning, her libraries were filled with Greek and Latin manuscripts; she was famed for her able jurists and historians, her singers and poets were welcome at the proudest courts of Italy. We read that Antonio da Pistoja was invited by Lodovico il Moro to Milan, "in hope of refining and polishing the rude Lombard diction," and that the charming and learned Isabella d'Este, Marchesa of Mantua, wrote to her envoy: "Find out Messer Tebaldeo (of Pistoja), and beg him to send twenty or twenty-five sonnets, as well as two or three capitoli, which would give us the greatest possible pleasure."

Alinari Della Robbia School

COAT OF ARMS OF THE HOSPITAL, PISTOJA

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No more typical family can be found, perhaps, than the Forteguerri of Siena and Pistoja, which was noted for its brave and learned sons and daughters, and beloved and honoured for devotion to their country, for their benevolence, learning, and poetic genius. As early as 1179 we find a Forteguerra as consul of Pistoja; in the fifteenth century Cardinal Forteguerra was not only conspicuous in the Church, but a constant friend and benefactor to his native city, founding and endowing a college and library. His grateful city erected a monument to his memory in the Piazza del Duomo, and called Verrocchio to design and carve a fitting tomb in the cathedral; but the work was not concluded by the master's hand, nor in accordance with his clay model, which we see to-day in the South Kensington Museum; and looking at the tomb, evidently the work of many diverse hands, one can but wish that the good Cardinal might have at Pistoja at least a replica of the one, by Mino da Fiesole, in the Church of St. Cecilia, Rome. Besides Cardinal Niccolò, there was more than one bishop, many jurists and historians in the Forteguerri family, and no less than six poets. The fifteenth Forteguerra, of the Pistoja branch, was another Niccolò (1674-1735), a well-known and cultured church-man at the court of Pope Clement XI, and author of a long, satirical poem, "The Ricciardetto," besides verses called "capitoli," and various translations from the Latin. This Niccolò was evidently conversant with Roman society, and a close observer of men and politics; he shows himself, also, at the age of fifty, a good lover, not only singing his lady's praise in verse, but sending her frequent vivacious and friendly letters, half in jest, but often dangerously near earnest affection; and the name of some Arcadian maiden of his muse, some Daphne or Phyllis, thinly conceals the identity of the noble young Roman lady, Marianna Cenci Bolognetti. It appears that the women of the family Forteguerri were also brave and talented; at least, we have a record of one of the Siena branch, when in 1554 the city was besieged by the Spaniards and almost spent with famine; when the best men of Siena were losing courage, "women of gentle birth, leaders of society, worked at the defences, side by side with artisans and common soldiers. All the Sienese ladies divided themselves into three companies; the first was led by Signorina Forteguerra, who wore a violet uniform, as did those who followed her; ... these three squadrons were composed of 3,000 ladies of the upper and middle classes. They bore pikes and spades, panniers and hurdles; as they went to their work on the fortifications, these brave women sang a song composed by one of that numerous choir of poetesses who sang the swan song of their own country." This Signorina Forteguerra is the one whom the English diarist, Hoby, mentions. "Most of the women of Siena," he says, "are well learned and write excellentlie well in prose and verse: among whom Laodomia Forteguerra and Virginia Salvi did excell for good wittes."

Alinari Giovanni della Robbia (?)

HEALING OF THE SICK

(DETAIL OF FRIEZE), OSPEDALE DEL CEPPO, PISTOJA

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Pistoja is called the "City of Cino" because of her famous lawyer-poet, Guittoncino (always called by the fond diminutive "Cino"), of the noble house of Sinibuldi, which had given Pistoja one bishop and many gonfaloniers. Though belonging to the thirteenth century, his noble character, his ability as a jurist, the pure and graceful style of his "Comments on the Codices," his faultless letters and verse—above all, his friendships and love story—have kept his memory fresh. He enjoys even to-day a certain fame in Italy, and all the world is supposed to know his charming sonnets, addressed to his friends, among whom were Dante and Petrarch, and to the lady Selvaggia dei Vergiolesi. His monument in the cathedral, erected by the Commune, is by Cellino di Nese, and is the first of the "monuments of the professors," a class of work characteristic of the coming period; it shows Cino lecturing on law to his pupils, among whom are Baldus, commentator on Civil Law, and the "idle Petrarch;" there appears also a draped female figure, which may personify poetry, or Roman Law, or, as some will have it, the fair lady of Cino's devotion, Selvaggia dei Vergiolesi; unsentimental critics, however, are inclined to think that the figure is that of the Madonna, and was once a part of a relief of the Annunciation. Selvaggia's family was Ghibelline, and, banished from Pistoja in 1305, retired to their strong castle, where the beautiful Selvaggia died at the age of twenty, after which Cino became a wanderer in foreign lands: he crossed the Alps and took up his abode in Paris, where he pursued his studies for some time. Cino's letters to Selvaggia and to his other friends, in which he sang his love and suffering, are exquisite in their purity and elegance of diction, and place him among the great makers of the Italian language. To Dante he wrote an ode condoling with him upon the death of Beatrice in tender and musical lines. He died in his native city of Pistoja at the age of sixty-six, upon which Petrarch composed his celebrated lament, beginning: