The courtyard beyond is a square space surrounded by two tiers of round arches. The whole effect is graceful, attractive, and airy. Both the loggie are vaulted, but the arches of the upper story are twice as numerous as those of the lower. The columns of the latter are of plain classical design, with carved capitals and shallow abaci, of which the foliage is so simple as to recall Romanesque work. The arches are plain and without mouldings. The upper arcade is formed by square piers of masonry, alternating with twin columns, one behind the other. This part of the building is the work of Orsini, but on the wall behind the arcades there are doors and windows in the pointed style of the earlier edifice. Two open-air staircases lead from the courtyard to the upper stories. The principal one, to the left of the entrance, is poor in design, but the general effect is large and stately. The smaller flight to the right leads to the little terrace on the mezzanine floor. The latter has low round arches, but the balustrade is adorned with a Gothic frieze, like that of the seats, “sotto i volti.” At the head of the stairs is a sculptured capital representing the Rector administering justice (the officer here is wearing the traditional opankas or sandals still common in Dalmatia); and opposite is a symbolical female figure of Justice, the “quædam justitiæ sculptura” of De Diversis, holding a scroll with the words, “Jussi summa mei,” and two lions. The draperies are flowing, and not, I venture to think, at all Düreresque, as Mr. Graham Jackson considers. The two lions’ heads and part of the scroll-work has been very clumsily restored. This, again, is Onofrio’s work. In this same loggia is a sculptured group in a niche representing Samson breaking a column, which is probably early quattrocento work, or perhaps even of the end of the fourteenth century. Here and there are other good fragments of carving.
The interior calls for little mention, having been completely restored and modernised. There is, however, one small room on the ground floor, with a wooden ceiling charmingly painted with arabesque designs and gilding, dating, I should imagine, from the sixteenth or early seventeenth century. Below the small loggia is the entrance to the state prisons, very gloomy dungeons indeed, in some of which prisoners were walled up alive. But the worst cells are those under the theatre—a strange contrast; they are below the level of the sea, and flooded at high tide.
On the whole, the Rector’s Palace is the most interesting and beautiful building in Dalmatia, with the exception perhaps of the Romanesque cathedral of Traù. Its graceful design, its perfect proportions, and its many charming details of stone work make of it a worthy rival of many of the famous palazzi pubblici of the Italian towns. It bears a strong analogy to the Loggia dei Mercanti at Ancona, on which some of the same artists were employed. The sculptures, however, labour under one disadvantage, viz. they are carved out of poor material. The Curzola stone, which is admirable for building purposes, for columns, and plain adornments, is not quite hard enough for elaborate sculpture, so that although the designs of the artists may be admirable, the result has sometimes a rough and unfinished appearance. It would form an interesting speculation to study what effect the nature of the material had on the artist. At Ragusa one certainly longs for the accurate and finished work of the Florentines. But nevertheless the Palace of Ragusa is in its way a little masterpiece.
During the Renaissance period a number of new churches and chapels were built at Ragusa, the majority of them quite small. The most beautiful of these is the votive church of San Salvatore, built to commemorate the earthquake of 1520. “This shock caused much spiritual benefit, for many people confessed their sins, and said prayers, and gave alms. Each Sunday the
SCULPTURED BRACKET, RECTOR’S PALACE Government with all the people went in procession to implore the Divine mercy, and vowed to build a church in honour of the Saviour, on which it was decided to spend 1500 ducats.... For the building of it Messer Daniele di Resti, Messer Damiano di Menze, and Messer Giunio di Sorgo were appointed Provveditori. These nobles raised the cost to more than 2500 ducats, and the building proceeded so slowly that it was not finished for ten years.”[513] It is said that noble matrons went barefoot carrying materials for the building, but the three noble Provveditori employed the masons for their own private houses as well, and this caused the delay. The façade is a simple but very beautiful specimen of Renaissance architecture, recalling that of the Lombardis’ church of the Madonna dei Miracoli in Venice. Both the façade and the roof are built in the same manner as those of the cathedral of Sebenico. The interior consists of a nave and rounded apse, divided into three bays by classic pilasters. There are some traces of Gothic in the vaulting and narrow side windows adorned with plain tracery. The cornice is arcaded, but each arch contains a Renaissance shell.[514] With regard to the authorship of the building, the acts of the Grand Council mention architects summoned from Italy in 1520, whose names, however, are not given, and one Paduan working at Sebenico. The latter seems to have been Bartolommeo da Mestre, described in the deeds of a Sebenico notary as “protomagister fabricæ Sancti Jacobi,” who was in that town between 1517 and 1525, but absent at Ragusa in 1520. This would explain the similar roof construction in the two churches.[515]
Among the other chapels, that of the Santissima Annunziata deserves mention. The front is unadorned, but in the tympanum of the Gothic doorway is a group of three figures in high relief, representing St. John the Baptist and two other saints. There is much dignity about the figures, but the execution as usual is somewhat rough. This chapel and the one next to it, from which it is separated by a wall space with a rectangular sixteenth-century doorway, are almost under the lee of the town walls, which at this point make an abrupt outward curve, so as to include the Dominican monastery.
Close by is the church of St. Luke, with some good Renaissance decorations and an elaborate tympanum. More important is the church of the Confraternità del Rosario, now desecrated and used as a military storehouse. The interior consists of two naves with a colonnade of three arches, and a low, dark story above. The capitals are of a handsome classical design with good mouldings, but the proportions are bad, the church being much too high for its length.