Tomb of Theoderic.
A far more curious tomb is that of Theodoric, which stands a little way out of Ravenna. The building is decagonal below, and circular on the upper part: the decagon of the basement is somewhat larger than the superior edifice. Each face has a deep recess, covered with a semicircular arch, whose stones are notched into one another. This basement is now half buried, and the water stands in it: an oblique flight of steps on each side of the division which faces the approach, conducts us to the upper story. This has also ten sides externally on the lower part, but is circular within. Each side, except that which contains the door, has two square-headed recesses, and each recess is placed under an arch, the support of which is not carried down to the ground, but projects from the face of the work. In front of these recesses and arches, tradition says that there has been a range of columns, but I could discern no certain traces of such an ornament, and the space to receive them, arising from the projection of the basement beyond the upper part of the edifice, is very narrow for such a purpose. The work looks unfinished, and I have no doubt that something more than what at present exists was either executed or intended, but I cannot form any probable conjecture of what it was. Immediately over these arches there is a broad circular band, above which all the work is circular. This band is interrupted by the vault-stones, forming a straight arch above the door, which are very curiously notched together, and there is nevertheless a small opening between these and the cornice and architrave below, made in order that the latter might not be in any danger of being broken by the settlement of the arch. The mouldings round the doorway are small and confused. Above the circular band we find a plain face of wall, with some small windows irregularly disposed, and then a massive cornice, of really a very fine character, and well adapted to a sepulchral building; and this solidity of character is well preserved throughout the edifice, but the range of little columns, if it ever existed, must have formed a singular contrast. The inside is a plain circular room, with a niche opposite the door, apparently for an altar, but the present altar is modern. The most wonderful part of the building is the roof, of which I have purposely avoided speaking till the last. It is a dome, the internal diameter of which is thirty,[[17]] the external thirty-five and a half[[18]] English feet, formed entirely out of one enormous stone; a crack now divides it into two very unequal parts, which is attributed to a stroke of lightning; and its form and irregularity clearly announce it to have taken place after the stone was raised, though it may have happened during the settlement of the mass into its new situation. On the inside, the depth of the part hollowed out is ten feet, the whole thickness of the original stone about fourteen feet, the thickness at the edges two feet nine inches. I will not pledge myself for the minute accuracy of these dimensions, but none of them can err more than two or three inches. The weight of such a stone, even reckoning sixteen cubic feet to the ton, must considerably exceed two hundred tons. On the outside are twelve large, perforated projections, which doubtless served as so many handles in raising it, and which are perhaps favourable to its general appearance. Some names upon these have led to the notion that they supported the statues of eight apostles and the four evangelists, but as their upper surface is not level, this could hardly have been the case. It is perhaps more probable that these names were given to the engines, or perhaps to the windlasses, one to each handle, used in raising this enormous mass. There is a little projection on the summit, which is now surmounted merely with an iron cross; but a sarcophagus, or bath of porphyry, at present standing in front of the palace of Theodoric, is said originally to have occupied the situation. The stone, of which the lower parts of the edifice are composed, is a light-coloured limestone, of a fracture between earthy and slaty, abounding in petrifactions. The roof is described by the earlier authors as of granite, by Beltrami and the later ones, it is said to be of the same quality as the rest of the building; but viewed from below, it has the appearance of a dark gray sandstone, unlike the walls both in grain and colour.
A fragment still remains, which is known by tradition as the Palace of Theodoric. It forms a little symmetrical façade in three parts; the centre has an arched gateway in the lower part, and over this a large niche, with a triple entrance at the back. The sides are recessed, terminating above in four arches, which are supported in each on three columns, and these rest upon as many corbels. The capitals are Gothic imitations of the Corinthian, but in the disposition, we may trace a similarity to the taste of Dioclesian’s palace at Spalatro.
One monastery at Ravenna has been appropriated to the purposes of a public library and museum. The former is said to contain fifty thousand volumes. The museum contains a few objects of natural history, a few antiquities, a few casts for the use of the academy, and a few paintings. If this does not sound very magnificently, you must recollect that the establishment is young, and that Ravenna is no longer a flourishing city. You may abuse the Italians as you please, but can you shew me any country where, under similar circumstances of prosperity or decay, equal public spirit has been exhibited? Ravenna contains a memorial of how much this public spirit has frequently degenerated into party spirit, which are more nearly allied than it is pleasant to allow, the tomb of Dante; certainly one of the greatest, boldest, and most original geniuses of modern days, but who, exiled by a party from his native Florence, employed his wonderful talents in devoting to Hell and infamy his political enemies, and placing in Paradise, or in the way there, all his own party, however morally reprehensible.
I have led you through Ravenna without saying a word to you about the Cathedral. This was a magnificent building, erected towards the end of the fourth century, having double side aisles, supported on fifty-six columns of various marbles; but all this is past, and the modern building was raised in 1734 by the archbishop Maffeo Niccolò Farsetti, at his own expense. These instances of individuals laying out great sums in public buildings are much more common in Italy than anywhere else; we could not produce one such edifice to their twenty. I am sorry the architecture is not as praiseworthy as the act. It contains two very beautiful frescos by Guido; the other churches are not rich in paintings, but there are some good ones in the private galleries.
The Campanile is all that remains of the old building, or rather perhaps it was an intermediate erection of about the eleventh century. It has several points of resemblance with the baptistery. But it hardly deserves a particular description.
I left Ravenna on the sixth for Rimini; the road lies through the Pineta, a flat sandy tract near the shore, covered with stone pines (Pinus pinea). The bushes, where there are any, are so low that the eye looks over them, and the foliage of the pines never descends low enough to unite with them. The scenery in consequence wants the variety of a deciduous forest; yet it would afford some good studies, and as the sea is said to make several little harbours, these would probably present home scenes of considerable beauty. This wood extends twenty-five miles from the river Lamon, one of the mouths of the Po, to the city of Cervia; its greatest width is three miles. It belongs almost entirely to the regular ecclesiastics, and produces annually about two thousand rubbii of cones (2,034 quarters) and affords a considerable revenue.
I breakfasted, or dined, as you please, at eleven o’clock at Cesenatico, and then continued my journey to Rimini. My guide on the way amused me with a long story of a family of several brothers and one sister, who haunted the Pineta as robbers; the brothers were all taken or killed, and at last the sister was taken and calzelata. I puzzled my head to think why they should give her shoes, and whether any punishment by means of iron slippers, or something of that sort, could be in use; and it was not till he had repeated the words several times that I found calzelata meant carcerata, and it seems here that the r is commonly changed into l; while on the other side of the Apennines, the l is frequently changed into r.
Rimini contains a bridge which is attributed to the time of Augustus. It is well built, as you may imagine, since it has lasted so long, and apparently, as to the solid mass of the work, with hardly any repairs; but it is not handsome, nor are the ornaments and mouldings well chosen. My driver assured me that it was erected by the Devil, St. Julian having promised him his own soul as a reward; but the saint was the greater knave of the two, and cheated his adversary out of the bargain. There is also a triumphal arch, the pediment of which, like that of Drusus at Rome, hardly extends beyond the opening. It is worth observation, that the cornice has no corona. I have been apt to consider the suppression of so important a member, as a proof of the decline of Roman art, but this arch is confidently and universally attributed to Augustus, and Fabretti even thinks he has proved that Vitruvius was the architect. Yet the inscriptions, on which I believe the evidence for the period of its construction principally rests, seem to me discordant fragments, not all belonging to the situations which they now occupy. The seven middle vault-stones are continued through the architrave, and the bull’s head on the key-stone interrupts its line, and there are some other peculiarities in the details, yet it would be a very handsome structure if it were not for the silly little pediment.
The Cathedral, which was restored and altered by Leon Battista Alberti, interested me more than any of these. The works of this artist are few, and lie rather out of the beaten track, and they are particularly interesting, not merely as he was practically one of the earliest restorers of Roman architecture, but as he was the first who reduced it into a system by his writing. The old building was of pointed architecture, but I know not of what date, and it is so completely covered by more recent work, that we cannot attempt to form any judgment concerning the time of its erection, from the appearance of what remains in sight. The front, and the one flank, which is exposed to public view, are entirely by L. B. Alberti, and an inscription on the frieze gives us the date of 1450. The front consists of four columns, whose order is a compound of Doric and Ionic, neither of them well understood; and three arches, of which the middle is the largest, and contains the doorway; while the side ones are merely shallow recesses. These columns are set upon a continued basement, which is unfortunately cut through by the doorway, but in other respects the proportions are good, and suited to the style adopted. I should say that the columns were too far apart, if they were introduced as essential parts of the building, but Alberti has used them as Palladio has so frequently done, as ornaments, which may indeed contribute to the firmness of the edifice, but are not absolutely necessary to its support; and the entablature, consistently with this view of their office, breaks round them. The upper part is not completed, but we learn from a medal that there were to be pilasters over the two middle columns below, supporting an ornamented arch, with a portion of a circular pediment on each side. It is probably better that it has not been executed, but here also we find something of the disposition afterwards followed more successfully by Palladio. The flank is much better than the front, from the beautiful simplicity of its seven equal arches, rising on insulated piers; each pier has a panel, which though they are quite shallow, is a great defect. Above each pier there is a circle of porphyry, surrounded by a wreath; and at a moderate distance over these, the entablature, corresponding with that of the front. In each arch there is a stone sarcophagus, and the whole is elevated on a continued basement. The only fault in the composition is the panelling of the piers. Everything else is beautiful.