The present building was founded in 1385, by order of John Galeazzo, first duke of Milan. He died in 1402, and it is probable that most of the old work was performed during this interval. The church was not however consecrated till 1418, when the ceremony was performed by Pope Martin V. About the middle of the sixteenth century, St. Charles Borromeo undertook to complete the edifice, and employed Pellegrini to design a suitable front. This architect is said to have conceived the idea of so engrafting upon Gothic, the beauties of Grecian architecture, as to make an harmonious whole out of the discordant materials. If such were his endeavours, we need not wonder that he did not succeed. A part only of his design was executed by the direction of Cardinal Frederic Borromeo, the cousin and successor of St. Charles in the archbishoprick of Milan; and this part has been suffered to stand, although the completion of the rest of the façade in a style imitated from the Gothic, has served to make its utter discordance with the rest of the building, much more obstrusive. The central column and spire were added by Brunelleschi, for Philip, the son of John Galeazzo, who reigned from 1412 to 1447. The present front is by a modern architect of the name of Amati; both having shewn by these additions, their want of skill in Gothic architecture.
Separating the old work from its injudicious additions, and considering it only as a portion of an unfinished building, the exterior is very rich and very beautiful, with its parts well composed and well combined. The pinnacles rise gracefully from the general line, and are richly ornamented with subordinate pinnacles and statues; the material is a white marble, and the workmanship is very good. One may imagine what a sumptuous edifice it would have been, with two lofty western towers, and a light and highly decorated lantern in the centre. The Italian architects indeed have not generally adopted the western towers. The design below would be more in their usual taste, but in a building of so intermediate a style, it is difficult to say which was intended.
That an architect in Italy, where the pointed style is considered as unworthy of serious attention, should think, in restoring Gothic architecture, that he could improve it by approximating its mouldings and ornaments to those of the Roman, is not wonderful; but it is remarkable, that abstractedly from their want of suitable character, the modern ornaments are poorer in design than the ancient, and inferior in execution. At present, the ancient part of the lantern is surmounted by a slender steeple, whose outline is that of a column supporting a spire: this, as I have already said, was added by Brunelleschi; and it is astonishing, that living so nearly in the time of the Gothic architects, he should have been so deficient in understanding the character of their architecture. The front is a mere triangle, and excessively poor. The artists, among them, have contrived to produce a Gothic building, of which the outline, when contemplated as a simple mass without the details, is everywhere displeasing. Another remarkable circumstance is the want of apparent size. That it does not look very high (although the head of the figure which crowns the spires is 360 feet from the pavement,) may perhaps be attributed to its actual magnitude; yet in the distant view, where the lower part of the building is lost, it does not suggest the idea of a lofty edifice; and the front, although extending 200 feet, almost looks little. Perhaps this may arise in some degree from the style of the Italian houses, which are so much larger and loftier than ours.
The following are the principal dimensions of the building:
| Braccia. | Eng. Ft.[[30]] | In. | |
|---|---|---|---|
| Length internally | 248 | 493 | 4 |
| Whole width | 96 | 177 | 3 |
| Length of transept | 118 | ||
| Ditto, including the chapels | 146 | 283 | 10 |
| Width of transept and of choir | 64 | ||
| Thickness of piers | 4 | ||
| Thickness of walls | 4 | ||
| Height of the nave | 78 | 151 | 11 |
| Height of First aisles | 50 | ||
| Height of Second aisles | 40 | ||
| Height to the summit of the cupola | 112 | ||
| Height to the top of the lantern | 127 | 247 | 0 |
| Height to the top of spire and statue | 183 | 356 | 0 |
There are fifty-two piers, ninety-eight pinnacles, and inside and out, four thousand four hundred statues.
Pellegrini’s plan was to place ten Corinthian columns in front; but to judge from what is done, and from the three stories of windows of unequal elevation, he could hardly have proposed to unite them in a simple portico. The mouldings and ornaments were all of Roman architecture. Of this design, the columns were never erected, but the five doorways, and as many windows over them, are preserved as parts of the present composition. Two other windows of this design are concealed by Gothic tracery. The remainder, which is only just finished, is imitated from the old work; but the architect, by Grecising the ornaments, and cutting the upright mouldings, has failed as signally in the details, as in the general composition.
The first particulars which strike you on passing to the interior, are, that it is dark and gloomy, and that the leading lines are very much interrupted by the shrines introduced in the capitals of the piers, which injure also the apparent solidity of the building. And if you are told that it is nearly 500 feet long, 180 feet wide, and 150 feet high, you can hardly believe it. Indeed, as to the last dimension, I still remain incredulous; for whether I estimate the height by a general comparison with the other dimensions, or from summing up the estimated heights of the different parts which compose it, or from counting the steps which lead to the outside, and measuring some of them, it seems to me to fall short of 140; and it is necessary to be aware that the side aisles are 96 feet in height, to be reconciled even to that supposition. I do not know to what to attribute this want of apparent magnitude: the height of the side aisles certainly diminishes the appearance of that of the nave; but the width of the nave is not remarkably great in proportion to the other dimensions. At Amiens, this is 45 feet 6 inches. In York, our largest cathedral, it is 47; here it is about 55. In company with some other English gentlemen, I listened to a sermon there last Sunday: we did not hear very distinctly, but we probably lost something from our want of sufficient familiarity with the Italian language; for the people around us appeared to hear and comprehend, and they were very silent and attentive; the preacher was an old man, and the voice did not seem very clear or strong. According to Mr. Saunders, (Treatise on Theatres) the articulations of an ordinary human voice, are only heard distinctly to about the distance of eighty feet, and we were above seventy from the speaker. I had no conception of the distance till I came to calculate it.
With all these defects however, and with some feeling of disappointment from having heard so much of this building, it was impossible not to acknowledge the sublime effect of the interior. The style does not correspond with any of our English modes of pointed architecture. The vaulting is simple, without any branching ribs, or any ridge piece; it is so much supervaulted, that each bay appears to be the portion of a dome; and the disposition of the materials in concentric circles, or in portions of such circles, makes me believe that this is nearly the case. The windows of the clerestory are extremely small and insignificant; those of the side aisles are long and narrow. They are ornamented with quatre-foils: but a division of the height into two parts by arched ribs, which have not precisely the effect of transums, because they do not cross the window at the same level, indicate a very different period of taste from that of the rose and quatre-foil heads in France and England. The lower part of the capitals has something of the running foliage of the fourteenth century in England; but the shrine work, which forms their upper part, is perfectly unique; at least, I know nothing parallel, either in the work itself, or in the manner it is here introduced. The bases and the plans of the pillars are equally anomalous, and I think any person would be baffled in attempting to determine the date from the architecture; only he might safely decide that it could not be very early. The smallness of the upper windows produces a gloomy appearance, and oppressive feeling, like that of the cavern style of architecture in the south of France, with which it has nothing else in common. The height of 78 feet, which is that of the lower range of aisles, seems indeed to give plenty of room for the admission of an ample quantity of light from this part alone, but such a disposition seldom produces a pleasing effect. There are three fine large windows in the polygonal end of the choir, but even these are ill placed, and have little effect. A few days ago I went into the cathedral late in the evening; there was just light enough to enable me to walk about without striking the pillars, or running against any other persons in the church; but not enough to distinguish at any distance, those who were scattered about on their knees in various parts, or who were mumbling their prayers, or sleeping on the benches. In a small church the number of persons thus engaged would have appeared considerable, but here they hardly seemed to interrupt the solitude of the place. There was no noise; every one was perfectly silent. A few glimmering lamps feebly exhibited the altars at which they were placed, but diffused no general light in the church. In these circumstances the painted windows lost their colour; they were merely parts of the edifice lighter than the rest, and served to show that the deep gloom around was that of the building, and not that of night. What the extent of that building might be, either in length, breadth, or height, was left to the imagination. What is it, in such a scene, that so powerfully impresses the mind? There was no danger; if there had been, the impression might have been stronger, but it would have ceased to be accompanied with pleasure. Even without the sentiment of danger, I believe many persons would find the effect of such circumstances, rather oppressive, than agreeable: for myself, I am rather exhilarated than depressed by gloom, while a strong light disturbs and depresses me, and seems inimical both to reflection and enjoyment.