Letters of an Architect, From France, Italy, and Greece. Volume 2 [of 2]

by Joseph Woods

On the inside, the arches of the nave are pointed, almost the only circumstance retained of their original form. The piers are now ornamented with architraves and Corinthian pilasters; the former of which are cut up by a multitude of small mouldings, but each still retains the character of an architrave. The pilasters are divided in their heights, like towers of several stories, composed of a succession of distinct architectural compositions. We wonder to see the effects of so pure a taste without, combined with such puerilities within. The materials of this church are said to have been drawn from various Roman antiquities, and particularly from the church of St. Apollinaris at Classe, but there is no appearance of any ancient fragments.

There are some trifling remains of a theatre or amphitheatre at Rimini. They consist of one or two arches, principally of brickwork, but with the introduction of a portion of stone, built up in the walls of the town; but there is nothing visible to detain us long.

The same vetturino who had brought me from Faenza to Ravenna, and afterwards to Rimini, conducted me the next day to Pesaro; he was a grumbling fellow, abusing monks and priests, and the government of priests, without measure. To say a man is a priest, according to him, is to say that he is a scoundrel; and yet with striking inconsistency, he pronounced that Bonaparte did nothing wrong, except turning out the friars. Even the inclemency of the seasons, and the scarcity of the late winter, was all attributed to the poor pope or his ministers. These sentiments are extremely common among the lower classes in the papal states; and if in the provincial towns, we consult the opinions of those a little higher in station, the only difference we shall find is, that these do not regret the suppression of monasteries, by whose almsgiving they did not profit. A more serious charge advanced by my vetturino against the present government is, that it has taken the burden off the rich, and oppressed the poor with a double weight of taxes. The French policy seems rather to have been to oppress the upper classes. I know not whether the papal government have only restored the balance, or have in fact overloaded the opposite scale. I wanted to know if he would like to see the Germans in possession of this part of Italy; he did not at all care about it, and I abused him for the want of patriotism to the best of my ability, but he was quite insensible to my reproaches; in fact, how can we expect that those whose hopes and fears are absorbed by the doubt of gaining their daily bread, should have much feeling to spare for national liberty. It is indeed wonderful to observe how generally and strongly such feelings exist, where they are favoured by somewhat of republican institutions; but the Romagnuolo sees himself no part of the state; he is already the subject of a power which he considers as foreign, and perceives very little difference in that respect between Romans and Germans. An Englishman is always seeking in Italy for an Italian spirit of honour and independence, but under the circumstances which have so long oppressed this country, no such feeling can exist in the commonalty, though it may take place in men of liberal minds and enlarged views; the effect of reflection, and not of habit or of passion. A man of the people may be a Genoese, or a Florentine, or a Roman, but not an Italian.

Almost the only thing which excited my admiration at Pesaro, was a beautiful painting by Barocci. I found there a sedia going to Senegaglia, and agreed with the driver to take me to Ancona. The Itinerary mentions a Roman arch at Fano, but I inquired for it in vain; and you perhaps, equally in vain, have been expecting that I should say something about the Rubicon, but it is uncertain which of the little rivers which cross the road, has a right to the name, and such things are nothing when sought out in the midst of doubts.

I slept at Senegaglia: here is one of the three great fairs of the Mediterranean; another is at Beaucaire: I do not recollect the place of the third. It did not seem to me equal in display to that of Beaucaire, and as it is entirely in the town, has not the picturesque effect of the tents and trees of the other. We reached Ancona about two o’clock, a city whose houses rise in one heap, one high above the other, without a tree either in it or about it. In the midst of this mass, a little portico of a church makes a singularly agreeable contrast. I delivered my letters, but they were between people only connected by business, and I have never found such letters of any use in Italy, unless indeed they contained a credit, and I wanted money: perhaps if I got into a scrape, I might find them advantageous.

There is a celebrated arch at Ancona, in honour of Trajan, erected on the ancient mole, which being higher and narrower than the present pier, they form two levels, nearly of equal breadth, of which the arch crosses only the higher, and shows an elevated basement on one side. It is of white marble, and though perhaps rather too high, yet the proportions are pleasing, and the appearance noble and magnificent, an effect to which its situation greatly contributes. The mouldings are rather confused; none of them are enriched with sculpture, except those upon the key-stone. There are various holes remaining, which render it probable that the figures and ornaments were of metal, but except these holes no sign of them remains.

The Cathedral, dedicated to San Cyriaco, is a curious building, but not by any means beautiful. It was built by Margaritone, an architect of the thirteenth century. The roofs are so combined, that the whole rises in a sort of tent-like form not ungracefully, and it is crowned with a dome upon a lofty drum, the former being covered with varnished tiles of different colours. The porch is formed by an arch supported on columns, which again rest on figures of animals, and these are completely worked round, so as to exhibit the false bearing of the columns, in which probably the artist prided himself. As this porch has every appearance of being of the date of the church, we might at least fix a period in which these animal-propt columns were in fashion, but unfortunately we only know of Margaritone, that he died at the age of seventy-seven, and probably before the year 1300. I may add, that this church was not a production of his old age. The doorway is ornamented with a series of columns supporting arches; diminishing in width as they approach the opening: a very common arrangement in the later Norman and early Gothic. In this instance the arches are pointed. There is a small circular window over the porch, and a range of simple arches, forming part of the enrichment under the raking cornice. The inside forms a Greek cross, except that an addition to the further tribune has taken place in modern times, but as it has little to recommend it, I shall spare you the description. All the arches are circular, except those of the doorway already mentioned, and this exception does not include the porch, the arch of which is a semicircle.

There is a curious little church or chapel at Ancona, dedicated to Santa Maria della Piazza Collegiata. The front is covered with small semicircular arches, each formed of one enriched moulding, and resting on little columns, imitated from the Corinthian. All the ornaments exhibit a good deal of Roman taste, but there is certainly nothing Roman in the disposition. The gable, instead of being carried up to a point, is cut off by a horizontal line. I do not know the date, but I should attribute it to the eleventh century, or early in the twelfth.

There is little good in the civil or domestic architecture of Ancona, nor is there much to excite the attention of the antiquary, though some pointed arches and ornaments of the middle ages, may be observed among the later productions.

I stayed through Monday in this city, because I could not persuade the vetturino to depart: these gentlemen put me not a little in mind of Fielding’s description of a stage-coachman in England, and I think it would be very amusing to read on an Italian tour, the description of an English journey a century ago; the points of resemblance would be very numerous. On Tuesday morning we started, but not till seven o’clock: the country is hilly, and the road continually ascending and descending: the land all cultivated, and small pollard trees scattered about, are used to support the vines. The most indulgent traveller could hardly call it either romantic, picturesque, beautiful, rich, or pleasing; yet the Itinerary speaks favourably of it.