Cathedral Cities of Italy

by W. W. Collins

There are many other churches worthy of description if space allowed, but passing mention must be made of the earliest known work of Niccolò Pisano. This is a relief of the "Deposition from the Cross" in the tympanum of the arch of a side door at S. Martino. There is much else to see in the compact and well-ordered little city that is situated so beautifully in a great bowl with mountains on every side. Much, too, to wonder at in the legend S.P.Q.L. that the municipio still writes up on public notices as a reminder of the days when its inhabitants made the laws that governed the Republic of Lucca.

FLORENCE

ALTHOUGH Florence has no doubt an Etruscan origin, her first historical record dates from the time of Tiberius. During his reign the inhabitants presented a petition to the august presence praying him to prevent the diversion of the River Clanis into the Arno. Through many subsequent vicissitudes she rose from an obscure beginning to be the centre of the Art of the civilised world. This was accomplished in the days when Florentines were not ashamed of "soiling the fingers with trade," and was due to the good taste and patronage of her wealthy merchant citizens, who took the keenest interest in the development of their city as the home of all things cultured. The Florence of to-day is rapidly becoming as cosmopolitan as London, and as a consequence has a growing trade in the manufacture of "antiques." But so great is the charm of this wonderful city that every year sees an addition to the long list of those, who coming from other lands, either rent a flat within the walls or occupy a villa outside. It is a charm that never dies—indeed, becomes intensified. Bitter winds may whistle through the draughty streets, and tearing down the Arno from the mountains howl across its bridges; the end of the "merrie" month may still see deep snow on the hilltops, yet no one who has once been in Florence, even under these undesirable conditions, but wishes to come again. And this charm—what is it? Is it that the city stands in the midst of a garden, a veritable bed of roses? Does it lie in her classic river along the banks of which Dante oftentimes wandered? Is it because Cimabue, Giotto, Leonardo, Michael Angelo, Raphael, the della Robbias, Fra Angelico, and Donatello, all were at their zenith in Florence? Go to the Pitti and Uffizi and marvel at their powers. Is it in her glorious buildings, her magnificent palaces, and the traditions of her great families—the Medici, Buondelmonti, Uberti? In all of these surely lies a charm that nothing can dissipate! Yes, in all these; but still there is a something beyond them, a subtle, indefinable spell that enwraps the senses and captures one body and soul in this Queen of cities.

Of all the great Florentine trade-guilds, the Wool-weavers were the richest, and the illustration shows a restored corner of their Hall with the redecorated altar behind the iron grille. On the opposite side is the Gothic church of Or S. Michele. Originally the site was occupied by a corn market, in the loggia of which stood the figure of a much-worshipped Madonna. Walls were built round the loggia and the market removed to the storey above. The niches on the exterior of the church contain statues of the patron saints of the numerous trade-guilds. Among them was a fine S. George, the patron saint of the Armourers Guild, by Donatello. This is now in the Bargello, having been replaced by a cast. The figures of SS. Mark and Peter were gifts from the linen merchants and the butchers, and are by the same master-hand. The best stained glass in Florence decorates the fine Gothic windows of the church. Their very elaborate tracery is cleverly designed to get the greatest effect from the top light—so necessary in the narrow and dark street. The Misericordia Brethren may be seen in the sketch carrying out one of the self-imposed tasks for which they receive no payment whatever. The Compagnia della Misericordia was founded by Pier di Luca Borsi in the year 1240. Men of all grades of society belong to the Order, and once a year attend a service in the cathedral, when they take a pledge to abstain from profane language. They nurse the sick, carry patients to the hospitals, and the dead to their last home. Every one who knows Florence is familiar with the hurrying footsteps of the black-robed figures as they proceed on their errands of mercy. The headquarters of this noble self-sacrificing Order are on the left in the illustration of the Campanile.

Those who recollect Florence in the eighties will remember that the picturesque old quarter, the Mercato Vecchio, occupied the site of the fine Piazza Vittorio Emmanuele. This pestilential plague spot, into which it was hardly safe to venture, was done away with in the years 1890-95. When the work of demolition was begun it was found to be so foul and insanitary that no house-breakers were allowed to touch a single stone until three months of stringent disinfection had elapsed. This is one of the very few clearances that have taken place in the heart of the city since the fifteenth century, and the thought of it carries one back to the days when that great reformer, Fra Girolamo Savonarola, set Florence on fire with his fierce disputations. A great bronze disc with a medallion portrait of the ascetic monk marks the spot in the Piazza della Signoria where he ended his days at the stake with two brave companions. In his little cell in the monastery of S. Marco there are two pictures which present us with the details of the tragedy. Save for the flight of steps that has taken the place of the platform where his judges are seen sitting, the Palazzo Vecchio, wherein he was condemned, is the same to-day as it was then. It is the grandest secular building in Florence, and this is saying a great deal. Built of huge blocks of rough stone, it was commenced in 1299 by Arnolfo di Cambio, and is a testimony to the splendid construction of the fourteenth century. The top storey projects on brackets from the walls, which stand four-square. Under these brackets are the Ghibelline and Guelph arms; the former is a white lily on a red ground, the latter a red lily on a white ground, quartered with the crescent of Fiesole. The present arms of Florence, so familiar all over the city, are a red fleur-de-lys with two sprays on a white ground. The battlements that surmount this storey are square-shaped Guelph, while those of the great tower which dominates this part of the city are the swallow-tailed Ghibelline. This fine landmark is three hundred and seven feet high, and has a projecting gallery underneath the loggia with which it terminates. The palace was built to accommodate the eight Priori, who, under the presidency of the Gonfaloniere, ruled Florence. It remained the seat of government for over three hundred years until Cosimo de Medici, having usurped the power, removed his court to the Pitti Palace.

From Michelozzo's beautiful cortile, which one enters first, a noble staircase ascends to the Salone dei Cinquecento. It was in this magnificent hall, where a statue of Savonarola is now placed, that he was tried and condemned. There are other fine rooms in the Palazzo Vecchio, but nothing approaches the beauty of the little cortile below. Nine columns of grand proportions bearing round arches support the arcade that forms part of the courtyard. Each column has a different design above the fluting which runs half-way up them all. The delicate low relief of these exquisitely modelled devices, some of which are grape clusters, others children with garlands, heads, and classic ornamentation, is so slight, that the effect on every column obtained by the light which pours down from high above makes each one seem a simple mass of half-tone thrown strongly out against the deep shade of the arcade beyond. It is an architectural masterpiece of what the painter calls "values." A delightful fountain in the centre of the cortile, by Verrochio, adds to the sense of repose that one experiences when the glare and noise of the piazza are left behind.

The south side of the Piazza dei Signoria is taken up by the Loggia dei Lanzi—a good specimen of the domestic Gothic style of Italy. Three arches form the base that supports the lower storey. A rich balustrade and projecting cornice adorn the top. Benvenuto Cellini's "Perseus," and "Judith and Holofernes" by Donatello, are among the statuary placed in the loggia. The building was erected for the use of the Priori, and from it they witnessed all great spectacles that took place in the square. It derives its name from the guard of foreign soldiers that Cosimo I. established in quarters hard by. To the east and running south is the great Ufizzi Palace, which contains some of the finest art treasures that Florence possesses.

Dante's house stands in the Via Dante, to reach which one leaves the piazza at the north-east corner, passing the back of the Badia on the way thither. The Badia was the Church of the Benedictines, and is built in the shape of a Greek cross. It is notable for the grandest coffered wooden roof in Italy. Just above the frieze which runs round the top of the walls, a fine series of well-carved brackets carries the first portion of the roof—a flat space beautifully ornate with good arabesques. Deep-set bosses in recesses circulate round the carving beyond this, until they centre in a recess so deeply set that it almost becomes a miniature dome. Heavy brackets support and carry the outward thrust. The miniature dome takes the form of a Greek cross, and from it the whole design springs in a very symmetrical manner. Such a massive wooden ceiling speaks volumes for the constructive art of the day.

Opposite the Badia stands the Bargello, or Palazzo del Podestà. In its courtyard is the well-known outside staircase that, sketched "to death," is to be seen represented in almost every shop in Florence. The palace is the national museum, and among its grand collections the work of the della Robbia family can best be studied. Florence is such a treasure-house in every way that one might wander on from church to palace, and museum to gallery for a year, and then be barely acquainted with what lies behind its walls.