Another church which interested me very much, is the Madonna delle Grazie. It did belong to a rich convent of Dominicans, celebrated for containing the Last Supper of Leonardo da Vinci. The front of this edifice has suggested to me, the idea of what that of the cathedral might have been. The nave is ancient, with a sort of half modernization which lets the antique character peep through; to this have been added a large square edifice, forming the centre of the building, crowned with a lantern of sixteen sides, and a choir. The central part is just of the beginning of the restoration of Roman architecture, and retains traces of Gothic taste; but the parts are so well disposed, and so well combined, that it forms one of the most picturesque compositions possible. The Last Supper still exists in a room in the convent; but it is in so bad a state, that hardly any thing but the design and composition are readily intelligible. The head of our Saviour is said by Vasari to have been left unfinished by Leonardo; but Lanzi rather throws a doubt on this fact, though he acknowledges that in its present state, three heads of the apostles alone remain of the original work. However this may be, the expression of the head of Christ pleased me very much; but I shall not presume to enter on the merits of the painting, a subject already so often treated. The damage is principally owing to time and damp, though the feet of our Saviour were cut away by a superior of the convent to heighten a doorway; and some mischief was done by the French troops, and especially by the cavalry, who were stationed there in 1796; but I think from the carelessness and inattention unavoidable in these circumstances, and not from that systematic love of destruction which Eustace attributes to the French in all cases. The woman who showed it said she had known the water stand three feet deep in the room. Under Eugène Beauharnois it was drained; and I believe every thing possible has since been done for the preservation of the picture. On the opposite wall is a composition in distemper, anterior to Leonardo, on which two figures in oil were painted by him, previous to the execution of his own subject, which was done in oil. The ancient distemper remains much more perfect than either these figures, or those of the Last Supper.
Another of the churches I visited at Milan is that of St. Mark; the proportions of which are very good, though low in comparison with those usual with us. It was built in the thirteenth century, and its beauty is said to have passed into a proverb; the front seems to have had a magnificent rose window, which is now filled up; the inside has been entirely modernized, but enough of the exterior remains to shew how very inferior the architecture of Italy was, at that period, to that of France and England. Though adopting a slightly pointed arch, the buildings do not seem to have risen above the plainness and rudeness of the Saxon style, till the middle of the fourteenth century. The artists then began to copy the forms they found in France, but without adopting the greatly elevated nave, and without abandoning the strong expression of horizontal line, and horizontal extent, which they had retained from the Roman architecture. In the following age, Gothic was entirely abandoned.
Besides the churches, many public and private edifices at Milan are pointed out to the notice of strangers. The first I shall mention is the Palace of the government. While Eugene was there something was added every year to its embellishments; but now this has ceased. The principal suite of apartments is hung with tapestry, with large cornices, and broad gilt borders, and ornamented with painted ceilings; such materials, if tolerably well disposed, always produce an appearance of splendour and princely magnificence; and this effect is not wanting here. I considered how far Mrs. Schimmelpenning’s theory of the superiority of light borders might be here illustrated. The relation of the colour of the plain surface to that of the border, is very various, but the lightest did not seem always the best; however, I so far agreed with her, as to think that borders lighter than the ground, have sometimes a degree of delicacy and elegance, which can hardly be attained by the contrary disposition. In general it appeared to me, that the rooms hung with yellow are the handsomest. I remarked this also at the Palazzo Litte, where are two large rooms almost alike, one hung with crimson, the other with yellow damask; and the effect of the latter was far superior to that of the former. Next to yellow, blue and crimson are the best colours. Green is the worst; but one room, sprinkled over with large and high coloured flowers on a white ground, was exceedingly tawdry, and much inferior, even to those where the green was predominant. The ceilings are painted in fresco on the cove, and in the middle, with ornaments in general very well designed and well executed; and with subjects of history or allegory. These are partly the productions of a Roman, of the name, I believe, of Traballesi; and partly of Appiani, a native of Milan, scholar of the former. The scholar’s works are excellent; full, rich, and harmonious; and far exceed the master’s. Of the floors, some are very beautifully inlaid with different sorts of wood; others are of the Venetian stucco, which receives different kinds of marble, while yet soft, and the whole is afterwards polished down to an even surface. When well done, it is very handsome. Some of the rooms are hung with Gobelin tapestry, which at the best, forms only indifferent pictures. Besides this suite there are two large and lofty saloons, the largest of which has a gallery supported by caryatides, one or two of which are justly admired for their execution; particularly a female, covered with a veil. When first pointed out to me, I thought the face had really been covered with a linen veil, in order to preserve it. The other is a music room, the ceiling of which is supported by columns. Both these rooms have been ornamented with paintings representing the exploits of Napoleon, which are now removed.
The Brera was formerly the principal establishment of the order of the Umiliati, who in the middle of the sixteenth century were found, like so many other religious orders, to have departed very far from that humility and piety, which was the first object of their institution. St. Charles Borromeo attempted to reform them; and on this occasion their chiefs are accused of endeavouring to assassinate the saint. The order was suppressed in consequence of this charge in 1570, and this building was given to the Jesuits for the establishment of public schools; and it is still used for this purpose, and for the academy of the fine arts. The great court is surrounded by two stories of arcades, the lower upon coupled Doric, the upper upon coupled Ionic columns. On the side of the entrance a double range of these archways gives room for the great staircase. The judgment does not easily reconcile itself to arches upon columns; or on posts; for a column is only an ornamented stone post; yet I confess there is sometimes a delightful lightness and airiness of effect, produced by the distribution, which I should be very much puzzled to obtain by any other means. With regard to painting, I seem here to have got into a new world. The number of pictures at Milan is astonishing; not perhaps of absolutely first rate productions, but still very fine ones. The grandest collection is in the Brera, and one feels quite dazzled and almost overwhelmed by the splendour of art there exhibited: but however delightful it is to have ready access to such a gallery, I am aware that nothing is more dull, than a long enumeration and description of paintings you cannot see; and I shall therefore abstain from particularizing them. I have learnt here a great respect for names which make very little noise in England. The drawing and design of some of the frescos of Bernardino Luini are most excellent; and the smaller pieces of Daniele Crespi are very fine, as are some of the pictures of Giulio Cesare Procaccini. Besides many first rate pictures, and these of the second rate, of the Milanese school, the Brera contains a great number of ancient paintings; extremely valuable to those who examine the history of the art, and trace its progress, from the stiff attitudes and hard finish of early times, to the grace of Coreggio, and the glow of Titian. It contains also a fine collection of casts, and one of engravings. There are likewise rooms for the exhibition of the produce of the useful arts; and attached to it is a botanic garden. Every body must find his curiosity gratified in the Brera.
The churches in Milan are full of good paintings, the chief performers in which are Luini, Crespi, and Procaccini; but they are mostly in bad lights, and the row of wax candles stuck in front of them is unfavourable to their effect: but even in the poorest paintings, there is a knowledge of drawing and colouring, and a grace in the position of the figures, which we should seek in vain in the common productions of France and our own country.
I have said nothing of the Great hospital, and I have very little to say about it; for it possesses little interest as an object of architecture. It is very large; about, I suppose, twice as big as the new Bedlam. It was begun in the middle of the fifteenth century by duke Francis Sforza, and has been increased at different times; the last addition being in consequence of a bequest of a Dr. Macchi, who lived in misery, in order to be able to leave three millions of livres to this hospital. Every body is received, whatever may be their country, their religion, or their disorder; and it possesses moreover a magnificent dispensary, where medicines are delivered to the poor, gratis, on the specification of any physician that they require them, but where also they are sold to those who can afford to pay for them.
There are many fine houses in Milan; but were I to particularize every thing which attracts my attention, I should never have done. The only Roman antiquity is a range of sixteen Corinthian columns, with their architrave, said to have been part of the public bath. They are very much mutilated, but enough remains to shew that they were of good style and well executed.
One of the principal lions in Milan, is the workshop of Rafaelli, who is just finishing a copy in mosaic of the last supper of Leonardo da Vinci; the labour of seven years, began by order of Eugene, and continued for the Emperor of Austria. These mosaics have the richness and depth of colour of oil paintings, and they last for ever. Had I been a rich man, I think I should have been tempted to throw away twenty louis d’or on a snuff-box, on which a greyhound was most beautifully executed; but I suspect it is rather in bad taste to have trinkets in mosaic, as its great merit consists in its durability, and a snuff-box does not seem intended to last for centuries.