Cathedral Cities of Italy

by W. W. Collins

The interior of the Cathedral has been modernised and painted to represent carved stone. Whitewash, generally the alternative to painted imitation of something substantial in construction, is perhaps preferable to this form of deception as it does not really interfere with the proportions of the architect's design. Here, however, the really fine proportion of the interior is almost destroyed by the obtrusive colours of the false marble walls, and the representation of bosses and capitals. The semicircular choir by Rossette was built in 1499 and has a ceiling covered with a fresco of the Last Judgment by Bastianino, who was one of Michael Angelo's favourite pupils. This fresco contains portraits of many of the painter's friends who are depicted in Heaven, while those with whom he was not on good terms are enduring the tortures of another place.

In the piazza outside the Cathedral a market goes on all day long throughout the year. It is difficult to analyse the feelings of folk who in the bitterest of weather unfold their great umbrellas over the fruit and vegetables exposed for sale. But so it is in Ferrara during November when the accompanying sketch was made, and every morning sees a thick coat of ice on the moat surrounding the castle. For although the good people wrapped themselves in heavy cloaks and thick coats and shivered over charcoal stoves, they still sat under their umbrellas. Habit breeds custom and custom lasts for ages.

The old city walls afford a delightful promenade of four miles or more in length. On one side, the town seems to be right in the middle of a huge market garden above the trees of which long red roofs and towers rise upwards. On the other, at this time of year, the last leaves from rows of poplars and plane trees may be seen gently falling to the ground in the tranquil frosty air, and when at rest forming a glorious carpet of russet and orange. Great teams of oxen, six couple to a team, are straining hard at the plough that cuts deep furrows in the stiff soil. The trees have long ago been trimmed and the peasants now turn their hands to the cutting of clay—that stiff clay through which the oxen toil—for brick-making. Ice covers the water in the fosse, and although the sun shines brilliantly and the malarial mosquito is no more for at least eight months, one soon realises that Ferrara is better in the spring than in late autumn.

RAVENNA

RAVENNA is one of those ancient cities the origin of which is lost in the mist of ages. It is, however, no guess work to say that in the days before the first unknown settlers found their way to the spot which became their permanent home, the fertile land in which it now lies embowered was a vast waste of waters and salt marshes. The first inhabitants of this dreary region drove piles into the mud, and erected their dwellings on such foundations as these afforded. Wooden piles will not last for ever, and the subsequent buildings that were put up, pulled down and replaced, have accordingly suffered in stability. When the march of Rome carried her legions north, Ravenna was encircled by a seagirt wall, and a Roman colony was established which became in Pompey's day a first-class naval station. Alive to the great strategic value of the city the Emperor Augustus constructed a new and second harbour capable of holding two hundred and fifty ships, which he named Portus Classis. This he connected by a canal with one of the estuaries of the river Po. Portus Classis lay three miles south of Ravenna, and between the two there soon sprang up a connecting link, the town of Cæsarea. The Emperor Honorius made Ravenna the capital of the West, and both he and his celebrated sister Placidia resided there.

In 493 Theodoric, king of the Ostrogoths, who had extended his conquests southwards over the Alps, captured the city, and Ravenna then became the capital of the Gothic kingdom. During his reign, a reign marked by absolute religious toleration, Italy was at peace for thirty years. Ravenna must have been at that time some miles from the coast. Jordanes, the historian, has handed down the fact that its celebrated Pineta, or Pine Forest, was in existence in Theodoric's day. Justinian, who drove out the Goths with the help of Belisarius and Narses, left the administration in the hands of the latter, who became the first Exarch. The Exarchs of Ravenna practically governed the entire Italian kingdom; even the Popes were subject to a rule which lasted one hundred and eighty-five years. In 1512 the Italian war that followed the League of Cambray brought a French army under Gaston le Foix into Romagna, and the bloodiest battle ever fought on Italian soil took place not far from the city; Gaston losing his life towards the close of the engagement at a spot marked by an obelisk.

It is, however, in early Christian Art, nowhere so well exemplified as in the mosaics of Ravenna, that interest is chiefly centred. More than fourteen centuries have come and gone since the first of these wonderful wall decorations were placed where they remain to-day. And though Ravenna and its celebrated Pine Forest are inseparably connected with the immortal Dante and the poet Byron, and though the sarcophagus and tomb of the former, tucked away in a corner of a little piazza, draw many a pilgrim to worship at his shrine, Ravenna lives in its mosaics and will continue thus to live as long as the walls last on which they are encrusted.

Theodoric's great basilica possesses one that is universally accepted as the finest in the world, but the church of S. Vitale is enriched with the most splendid of all. Close to S. Vitale is the mausoleum which Honorius' sister, Galla Placidia, built in the form of a Latin cross for herself and her husbands. In its way it is one of the most perfect gems of good taste in mural decoration extant. The interior walls are lined with rare marbles. The arch over the entrance has a mosaic of the Good Shepherd and His Sheep in subdued greens and greys. The vault of the first arm of the cross is covered with a most glorious blue ground out of which shines a multitude of stars in white and gold; this leads the eye in a perfect harmony of colour to the blue-green ground of the dome, whereon the four Evangelists and their symbols are portrayed in white and a dull red. The sarcophagus of the Empress still remains in the recess beyond, and in the lateral arms of the cross are those of her brother Honorius and her second husband Constantius III. These three stand exactly in the same places as they did fourteen hundred years ago. The mosaic above Placidia's tomb represents Our Lord with an open book in one hand and a cross in the other. In the centre is a gridiron towards which He proceeds. On the left side a sort of tomb or cupboard stands open disclosing on its shelves the bodies of the four Evangelists, their names being written beneath each body.