Such as it is, however, this sacristy at St. Peter's was handsome enough to excite the emulation of the canons of the cathedral, for the contract made with Maestro Mariotto—who was nicknamed Torzuolo—specifies that the work is to be entirely of walnut wood, after the fashion of the sacristy at St. Peter's, and is to be executed "in the manner of a good, loyal and expert master." It is to be all done by his own hand, or at least in his presence and under his superintendence. The work is to be completed in one year, and the canons are to pay for it at the rate of ten florins every square braccio, Florentine measure. This was in 1494; and it will here again be observed that the price, as compared with that to be paid to Maestro Stefano by the monks of St. Peter's for their choir, even fully allowing for the greater richness of the latter, indicates the very rapid alteration in the value of money which took place at the beginning of the sixteenth century. But the canons, it would seem, were very careful hands at a bargain, for we find that it is provided in the contract that when the work shall have been completed it shall be examined by two experts, and that if it shall be found to be worth less than the price named, Maestro Torzuolo shall receive so much less; but that if it shall be found by the said experts and appraisers to be worth more, the maestro shall stand to his bargain and not receive more than the price named—an agreement which is frequently found in the contracts made about that period. When the work was completed it was accordingly examined and appraised by Maestro Mattia of Reggio and Maestro Pietro of Florence. The latter was brought from Città di Castello, a little city in the Apennines some twenty-five miles distant, express for the purpose. We do not find any statement of their award. But it would seem that Maestro Torzuolo did not keep to his contract in one respect, but was as unpunctual as the carpenters of the present generation, for the above experts were not called to appraise the work till the year 1497.
Maestro Pietro of Florence was evidently a man at the head of his profession, for at Città di Castello, when he was summoned to Perugia to appraise the work of Maestro Torzuolo, he was engaged in making for the canons there a wooden ceiling for the nave of their church, which was, by a contract dated 1499, to be ornamented with large roses similar to the ornamentation of the ceiling of the council-hall in the Palazzo Vecchio at Florence; giving us thus another indication of the degree of general interest and attention which these works excited in those days. The communication between city and city was difficult and comparatively unfrequent, yet the fame of any fine work of the sort we are talking of evidently not only reached far and wide among other cities, but forthwith excited their rivalry and led to the production of other chefs-d'oeuvre. Maestro Pietro was to receive for the ceiling of the nave at Città di Castello no less a sum than five hundred golden ducats, equal to at least seventeen thousand five hundred dollars at the present day. We find him also employed as architect to direct the construction of a cupola of the church of Calcinaio. This carpenter was, then, an architect also; and Professor Rossi remarks that it is by no means the only case of the kind.
Maestro Mattia, the other expert called to appraise the work done by Maestro Torzuolo for the canons of the cathedral of Perugia, was already well and favorably known in that city, for he had been employed in 1495 to appraise some work which had been done for the choir of the monks of St. Lorenzo; in that same year we find him executing some very elaborate work for the convent of St. Augustine; and on the 20th of December there was read at a meeting of the municipal council a petition from Maestro Mattia to be admitted to the freedom of the city of Perugia; which request the masters of the guilds, "taking into consideration the industry, the mode of life and the moral character" of the petitioner, were pleased to grant, on the condition that he, together with two other persons admitted to citizenship at the same time, should make a present to the corporation of a silver dish and forty pounds' weight of copper money, and, further, that he should give the masters and treasurers of his own guild a dinner.
The notices which Professor Rossi has collected from the various collections of archives explored by him show in a remarkable manner how much the best patron of art and artists in those days was the Church. By far the greatest number of the contracts cited are made by ecclesiastics, either monks or collegiate bodies of canons or the like, for the ornamentation of their churches and sacristies. The next best patrons are the different trade-guilds of the cities. Each of these had its place of meeting for the priori—masters or wardens, as we should say, of the company—and many of them a contiguous chapel. The sort of furniture needed for these places was generally a range of seats running round the principal room, a back of wainscoting behind them, a kind of pulpit for those who addressed the meeting, a raised and prominent seat for the "consuls" of the guild, and a large table or writing-desk for the transaction of business. All this, as will be readily perceived, afforded fine opportunities for the display of rich carvings and intarsia; and there was much rivalry between the guilds in the splendor and adornment of their places of meeting. Some of these works still remain intact, as in the case of the meeting-room and chapel of the company of exchange-brokers, which is celebrated wherever art is valued for the magnificent frescoes by Perugino which adorn the upper part of the walls above the wood-work. I think, however, that the Church was more liberal and magnificent in her orders. I have seen much fine wood-work in the different guild-halls and town-halls in various cities of Italy, but in no lay building, not even in wealthy and magnificent Venice itself, with all the splendor of its ducal palace and its Scuole, have I ever seen anything of the kind at all comparable to the wood-work in the choirs of the monastery of St. Peter at Perugia and of the cathedral at Siena. There is in the cathedral of Bergamo some intarsia, perhaps the finest things extant in that special description of work, but for carving the choirs I have mentioned are pre-eminent.
But there are a great number of beautiful works of this sort lurking in places where the traveler, however eager a lover of art, would hardly think of looking for them. The central districts of Italy are full of such. There is in the mountains to the south of Perugia, overhanging the valley of the Tiber, a little city, the very name of which will probably be new to many even of those who have traveled much in Italy. Still less likely is it that they have ever been at Todi, for that is the name of the place I am alluding to. It lies high and bleak among the Apennines, and possesses nothing to attract the wanderer save some notable remains of mediæval art which strikingly show how universal, how ubiquitous, art and artists were in those halcyon days. Todi has, moreover, the misfortune of being situated on no line of railway, and of not being on the way to any of the great modern centres. It is, therefore, completely out of the modern world, and nobody knows anything about it save a few lovers of ancient art, who will not be beat in their explorations by want of communications and bad hostelries. But the little hill-city possesses two churches, whose choirs well deserve a visit by the admirers of cinque-cento wood-work, I have mentioned it here, however, mainly because one of these, the choir of the cathedral, offers not so much in what may still be seen there, as in its records, a very curious example of the spirit of anti-ecclesiastical freethinking which was widely spread at that time through the artist-world, whose best patron was the Church. I mentioned some months ago, in the pages of this Magazine, some curious facts showing the real sentiments of the great Perugino on this subject while he was painting Madonnas and miracles for his ecclesiastical patrons. And the following singular extract from the archives of the cathedral church of Todi may be added to what was there written as a proof of the somewhat unexpected fact. The wood-work of the choir was begun by Maestro Antonio Bencivieni of Mercatello, in the duchy of Urbino, and was completed in 1530 by his son Sebastian, who finished his work by inserting in it a singularly haughty inscription in intarsia. The Latin of the original may be Englished thus: "Begun by the art and genius of Anto Bencivieni of Mercatello. This work was finished by his son Sebastian. Having kept faith and maintained his honor, he did enough." The worthy canons, however, discovered just one and forty years afterward that Maestro Sebastiano had done somewhat too much. For he had on the fourth stall, counting from the bishop's seat, on the right-hand side of the choir, inserted amid the ornamentation certain Latin words, inscribed over a carving of three vases intended to represent reliquaries, which may be translated thus: Over the first vase, "The shadow of the ass ridden by our Lord;" over the second, "The feet of the Blessed Virgin as she ascended into heaven;" over the third, "Relics of the Holy Trinity." These strange inscriptions remained where Maestro Sebastiano had so audaciously placed them till the May of 1571. At that date we find a record in the cathedral archives which, after rehearsing the words in question, and describing the position of them, proceeds: "Which words, placed there and written scandalously, and in a certain sort derisive of the veneration for holy relics, and in contempt of the Christian religion, the very reverend canons" (So-and-So—names rehearsed) "ordered to be removed and entirely canceled, so that they should no longer be seen or read." Can it be supposed that this very extraordinary inscription in a choir frequented daily by the canons of the church had entirely escaped notice for more than forty years? Surely this is impossible. Should we not rather see in the fact that the chapter of 1530 noticed the mocking words with probably a shrug and a smile, whereas the chapter of 1571 took care that they were removed, an interesting and curious commentary on the change which the intervening years had brought about in the spirit of the Church, and another unexpected indication of the difference between the Church of the worldly, pagan-minded Clement VII. and that of the energetic, earnest bigot Pius IV. That such a difference existed we know full well, but this passage of the Todi archives is a very curious proof of it.
T. ADOLPHUS TROLLOPE.
REST.
In deepest weariness I lay so still
One might have thought it death,