Part 12

Ten octagonal columns, painted to represent marble, stand in the nave and support the Gothic groined vaulting which springs from gilded Corinthian capitals. The first bay on the south side is enclosed by a good iron grille. Within is the Capella del S. Anello, containing Perugia's most sacred relic, the wedding-ring of the Blessed Virgin. This was filched one day from Chiusi, the pleasant little town where one so often changes trains on the way from Rome. To prevent a repetition of the theft it has, since its arrival in Perugia, been enclosed in a reliquary that can be opened only by fifteen different keys kept by fifteen different citizens. The Capella de S. Bernardino occupies the opposite bay of the north aisle. The choir is a five-sided apse, round which are the canons' stalls of good _intarsia_ work. The central of the three windows is almost filled by the organ loft, and the choir gallery is above the stalls. In the north transept a little door in an almost hidden angle of the wall opens out into the cloisters. Of the two courts the inner, with two galleries, is a very picturesque and quiet spot. Creepers come trailing down the walls, flowers in boxes add a touch of colour, and the cooing of doves gave one the idea that here at any rate, in the precincts of a sanctuary, was a haven of rest from the brawling world outside. The Cathedral library has a great treasure in the possession of the Codex of St. Luke of the sixth century. It is bound in silver and written in letters of gold on purple-coloured vellum--a splendid combination.

Not many of Perugia's churches can rejoice to-day in the preservation of their original state. Those attached to the disendowed monasteries are now mostly barracks, and others have been restored or propped up as a consequence of intermittent earthquakes that developed great cracks in their walls. Coming through the Porta Susanna, the lowest part of which is Etruscan masonry put together without any cement, one leaves the ancient city behind, and, turning to the right, sees across the vacant Piazza de S. Francesco the gem of Perugia's ecclesiastical architecture. The little oratory of S. Bernardino stands adjoining the ruined church of St. Francis. The lovely façade of this tiny building is by Agostino Ducci, who built it in marble and terra-cotta. Its two doors are enclosed by a rounded archway, in the tympanum of which is a figure of our Lord in Glory with two archangels. S. Bernardino is beneath. Around him are many angels who sing to the accompaniment of the musical instruments on which they play. Beyond the angels are two rows of cherubims with heavenly faces. The ground colour of the tympanum on which all these delicately modelled bas-reliefs stand was evidently at one time a gorgeous blue and gold. It has faded to a beautiful "broken" cerulean. The jambs of the portal are green serpentine, and contain three figures of angels on each side. They carry implements of husbandry and agriculture. Six panels on the façade have more angels with musical instruments. Arabesques cover the posts of the portal, and laurel is carved on them as well. Four terra-cotta saints occupy niches; under these are scenes in higher relief illustrating events in the life of S. Bernardino. In one he is depicted saving a boy from a watery grave. The delicate pink and warm opaque yellow of the terra-cotta, the white marble and green serpentine, and the exquisite note of blue, with traces over all of faded and half-obliterated gilding, make this gem one of the best pieces of external colouring to be met with in Italy.

One finds a church situated at the extremity of each of Perugia's promontories. The Romanesque church just outside the S. Costanza Gate is well worth a visit, if it be only to look at its eastern portal. Slender, twisted pillars of marble support the architrave, on which is a central figure of Christ seated in a circle. On either side are the saint with a dove, and a lion with a gryphon. Elegant pilasters are carried from the steps up above the architrave. They are carved with quaint trees growing out of monsters, and support goats and other animals. Leo XIII., when Bishop of Perugia, restored the façade, but very judiciously left this portal alone. Crosses and other Christian symbols in terra-cotta are the fruit of the restoration. On to all these--in fact, wherever they could find a purchase--the mason-bees have settled and built their nests. The drowsy hum from the busy little colony adds much to the pleasure of a reverie as one sits on the steps of the doorway and looks across the vale to Assisi, baking in the sun, and to the scarred mountains beyond.

The never-completed church of S. Domenico, which Giovanni Pisano designed as a Gothic building, contains a grand Gothic monument by that master. The figure of Pope Benedict XI., who died by eating poisoned figs, lies on his sarcophagus behind curtains which two charming figures draw aside. The fine Gothic canopy of the tomb is supported by twisted columns inlaid with _tesseræ_ in the same style as the pillars in the portico of Lucca's cathedral.

The Benedictine church of S. Pietro would have been a very impressive basilica had not every inch of its walls been covered by poor frescoes and huge canvases of mediocre paintings. The nave is simple, with a good coffered roof. In one of the aisle chapels there is a very beautiful altar by that delightful artist, Mino da Fiesole; and the tabernacle over the high altar is a good example of marble work. It is surmounted by bronze figures standing at the angles round the base of its little cupola. The magnificent reading-desk is also worthy of note. It rests on a table with good carved panels illustrating events in S. Peter's life.

One of the finest Domestic Gothic façades in Italy is that of the Palazzo Pubblico. A grand doorway of clustered and twisted columns ornamented with arabesques gives on to the Corso Vannucci. Above the portal are the city's three protectors, SS. Lorenzo, Ercolano, and Costanza. By their sides and overhanging the pavement, on brackets, are two huge gryphons holding a sheep and a calf. Within the building are the Municipal Offices, and on the third floor the _pinacoteca_, on the walls of which hang some of Perugino's best work. The façade, which faces the Piazza del Duomo, has a fine flight of steps leading to an entrance on the first floor. Above this are two more gryphons in bronze and a lion. Depending from the gryphons is the great chain and bar which were captured from the Sienese. Three fine arches support a _loggia_, outside which is a pulpit, removed hither from the demolished church of S. Salvatore. This side of the Palazzo is the oldest part of the building, preceding in construction that which is in the Corso Vanucci by fifty years. A third part, that was added in 1429 for the Bankers' Guild, is known as the Collegio del Cambio. The great hall inside is decorated with very good examples of Perugino's brush, and has a marvellous ceiling covered with arabesques and medallions by his pupils. Carved stalls and benches of walnut wood with _intarsia_ work, and fine doors, complete an _ensemble_ which is one of the best examples of an early Renaissance interior.

The old Piazza del Sopra Mura, so called because the buildings on one side were erected on the Etruscan walls, has been renamed the Piazza Garibaldi. A statue of the hero may be seen in the illustration. On the right of the sketch, built on the walls, is the Palazzo del Capitano del Popolo, at present the Assize Court. Its Gothic façade has a good porch and a _ringheria_, or balcony. The _piazza_ is one of the best "bits" in this quaint old city, and when filled with market folk haggling over bargains under their umbrellas is a typical Italian scene in a typical Italian setting.

There are not many places in Italy that boast so fine a view as Perugia can from the garden where once stood the Baglioni's palace. In winding lines directly beneath one a road, buttressed up by great blocks of masonry, now leads downhill to the station. To our left is a mat of grey-brown roofs, out of which rise hundreds of curiously shaped chimneys. Heavy stones keep some of the roof tiles in place. A necessary precaution, for, although these are laid three deep, a storm of extra violence is apt to whisk them away by scores. Glimpses of delicious walled-in gardens and old conventual courtyards nestling behind high walls break the colour of our brown mat with relieving patches of green. Bell towers and a spire or two rear themselves out of the harmoniously coloured network and catch the early sun like beacons. Tortuous alleys appear and disappear amidst this delightful chaos, and little figures like ants may be seen labouring up the steep slopes. A sudden jump in colour from brown to green and the eye has leapt a thousand feet or more to the vast and fertile plain beyond. Shadows thrown by fleecy clouds, with which from our height, we seem to be on a level, chase one another over the emerald carpet. Little hills, covered with trees, appear as flat as the plain below. Dark cypresses and pines cluster round the farms and homesteads that punctuate the landscape with white dots. Long thin ribbons of the same colour tell where the main roads run to Assisi, to Foligno, to Rome or Orvieto. As the eye travels on, the emerald merges imperceptibly into green of a blueish tinge. Hills twenty miles away rise in a purple mass under the shadow of the clouds above. But what a perfect canopy the sky is! The sun pierces the well-ordered battalions that are moving across it from the west, and with long, straight rays strikes the windings of the river that runs on to the Eternal City and flows out to sea. Far away, through the yellow haze that throws the purple hills into such bold relief, are shadowed forms rising tier above tier in the mystery of distant sunlight. The snowy crests of Italy's central chain toss themselves up to heaven, hardly distinguishable from the farthest mass of the marching hosts of the sky. Yes, truly an unforgettable view, and one which the Baglioni of old, from their castle windows, must have drunk in with pride. Well nigh as far as their eye reached the country owed them allegiance.

ASSISI

Of all the wonderful hill towns of Italy, Assisi can claim a kind of pre-eminence in saintship and monasticism. The delicate finger of time has touched lightly and lovingly the little mediæval fortress which gave to the world S. Francis and S. Chiara. One might say that every stone in the place is saturated with the memory of the former and sweetened by the recollection of the saintly woman who outlived him many years. The life of S. Francis of Assisi is one of the most enthralling tales in the history of the saints. He, who was the son of a rich cloth merchant, and up to the age of twenty-four had led a gay and vicious life, has left to humanity one of the greatest examples of charity, humility and chastity that the world has ever seen.

As one approaches the quiet little place, the first thing to attract is the great church of S. Maria degli Angeli, built over the Porziuncula. This, a small chapel, was presented to S. Francis by the Benedictines of Mte Subacio, and is the scene of the closing years of his life and his death. A fine altarpiece by Andrea della Robbia in the north transept shows the saint receiving the _stigmata_, or wounds of our Lord's Passion. Pope Pius V. raised the cupola that is directly over the spot where S. Francis expired. The charming little garden where the saint cultivated his plants and medicinal herbs adjoins the sacristy; and there still flourish in it the thornless roses of the legend. Two years after the death of S. Francis, the immense building that rises on a massive substructure was commenced by Gregory IX. The great convent and two churches, one above the other, that seem from below as solid as the rocks beyond, were erected over the saint's grave. S. Francis, when dying, expressed a wish to be interred outside the city walls; but his disciples, so we are led to believe, carried his body up secretly two years later, and placed it in a sarcophagus, which was found imbedded in the rock in the year 1818. It had lain there inviolate for six hundred years.

The lower church, which one enters by a Gothic porch, is very dark. This is emphasised if the sun happens to be very brilliant. By degrees, however, the wonderful ultramarine used in the decoration of the groined roof asserts itself, and what at first seemed utter blackness unfolds imperceptibly into an extraordinary scheme of colour. The costly blue was presented by Hecuba, Queen of Cyprus, whose tomb is in the church. The great porphyry vase in which it was brought thither is there too. Chapels raised six steps above the floor of the nave take the place of aisles; and their windows, filled with stained glass, do not help to mitigate the darkness. The High Altar stands at the inter-section of the nave and transepts. Immediately beneath is the rock containing the saint's remains. The altar itself is a huge slab of stone brought from Constantinople. It rests on twenty slender columns that form a sort of arcade with trefoils and mosaic spandrils. The tour compartments of the vault above are adorned with some of the finest of Giotto's work. They are known as the Poverty series, and Chastity, Obedience, and S. Francis in Glory.

A fine vestibule at the west end of the nave fronts the Piazza Superiore, and carries the façade of the upper church. This is smaller than the lower church by the width of the side chapels, and consists of a nave, short transepts, and apse. The nave is decorated by a once noble series of frescoes by Giotto of the life of S. Francis. They are much damaged by injudicious restoration, and comparing them with other works by the same master-hand, it is open to question whether much of the colour from his brush is now on the walls. Above them is the almost ruined work of Cimabue. Alas! that such masterpieces should have been so neglected.

On the way to the upper town one passes through the old Roman Forum, now the Piazza Grande. In the square stands the Palazzo del Capitano, to which a fine tower is attached. Further on, as one climbs the ascent, the street opens out into the Piazza Rufino, at the end of which the cathedral is situated. Dedicated to the first bishop of Assisi, who suffered martyrdom in the year 286, the building was commenced in 1140. The fine façade has three portals, elaborately carved in low relief, and three very good round windows. Grotesque figures of birds and beasts are set on brackets near the centre window, and occupy other places on the façade. The interior was restored and altered at the end of the sixteenth century, and is in no way remarkable. It contains, however, the font in which S. Francis was baptized, and two good statues of white marble, one of S. Francis, the other of S. Chiara.

Assisi is distinctly a sun-baked city; and built of local warm-coloured stone, it looks almost on fire when the rays of the setting sun light up its walls, its roofs, and its towers. Thus does the illustration depict the cathedral's façade and Romanesque _campanile_. In the piazza stands, on a pedestal, the bronze statue of the saint which replaced that which is inside the building. The street under the houses on the left leads to the Roman theatre, and on the right one proceeds to the church of S. Chiara. The mummified body of S. Clare still rests in the crypt; and the Crucifix which spoke to Giovanni Bernardone in the church of S. Damiano is in the north transept. To this crucifix was due the change which transfigured the life of the young man, and gave to the world one of its greatest saints. Giovanni was nicknamed Francesco by his father, who had an extensive trade connection with France, and a name given in jest has become one of the most remarkable in the history of the Church. The country round Assisi is full of beautiful subjects for pen and pencil; and long meditative rambles are within reach of the poorest pedestrian. The spirit of S. Francis dominates all. It is not far to the _carceri_, the little dug-out rock chambers that he at first inhabited with his few followers; and the gorge through which one climbs to reach them is that where he was one night attacked by robbers, who finding their victim clad only in a hair shirt, beat him and left him for dead in a drift of snow. The life of S. Francis has ever been an all absorbing one for the painter's art. One of the favourite subjects connected with it is his marriage with the Lady Poverty. The vows he took of Poverty, Chastity and Obedience were demanded from all his followers. His rule once established, his disciples were known as the Frati Minori. When preaching to the poor he often exposed to view a representation of the birth of Christ which he carried about, and it was over this _presépio_, or manger, that the first Christmas carols were sung.

SIENA

Siena, the Ghibelline, at one time always at war with Florence the Guelph, no longer disputes with her ancient rival the glory of being the foremost of Tuscan cities. But, though she no longer does this, pride in her Roman origin has never ceased. She still retains the S. P. Q. S. as the head-line of municipal notices; and the she-wolf and twins are to be found sculptured on many a column that adorns some of her little courtyards as well as on odd corners about her walls. Nine gates, one of which boasts a barbican, admit the stranger to her dark up-and-down-hill streets. She possesses many fine palaces. She might have possessed the grandest Gothic cathedral in all Italy had funds permitted its completion. As it is, it is one of the most remarkable and is adjoined by one of the most beautiful _campanile_ in the country. If the visitor braves the heat of August, she can show him the very best survival of mediæval times in her celebrated _Palio_, or horse-race, that takes place every year in the great piazza. In her streets you will hear the purest Italian spoken. Her women, as the month of May comes round, don the most becoming of straw hats, and her people are justly famed for their courtesy. Fortunately for some of us, the tourist hurries on to Florence or Rome. But for him who loves the repose and personal charm of an old-world city, Siena will always open her arms and gather him in an embrace that will hold him for ever enchanted by the fascination of a delightful memory.

Almost in the centre of the city and occupying a space on the top of the highest hill, Siena's cathedral is to-day a fragment only of what its builders hoped to erect. The west end of the original nave is away at the end of the piazza to the south of the present south transept. The present nave was built as one of the transepts, and when its size is realised the grand scheme that was never completed can be judged. The building was begun in 1229 and the dome over the crossing finished thirty years later. About sixty years after this the scheme to construct the huge nave was commenced. It was only owing to a terrible plague which carried off, it is said, eighty thousand people, that this was abandoned. The tracery of a very beautiful Gothic window remains at the unfinished west end, to make one marvel at the splendid proportions of the intended fabric.

The cathedral, of which a fine view is obtained from the church of S. Domenico on the opposite hill, is approached from the Piazza del Duomo by twelve marble steps. The topmost which forms the platform in front of the façade is inlaid with _graffiti_ designs in black and other colours. Three crocketed gables crown Giovanni Pisano's façade. Their surface is covered with modern mosaics. Under the centre gable, surrounded by a square frame of Gothic niches filled with half-length figures of saints, is an immense round window devoid of all tracery, but filled with good glass. A flat black band of marble frames the niches. Elegant turrets with crocketed pinnacles surmounted by saints are on either side of this gable. The two other gables are flanked by towers, each with a solid turret. The purest piece of architecture is the gallery which is between the centre and these two side gables. Below runs a classic frieze separating the upper from the lower part of the façade. The columns and pilasters of the three portals are of white and red marble; they are so heavily laden with elaborate sculpture of beasts, birds, and foliage that they seem to lose their _raison d'être_ and no longer support anything. The capitals of all these are formed of elongated acanthus leaves, and might be likened to a field of waving maize. It is very interesting to note, by the classic work which Pisano introduced everywhere on the façade, how difficult it apparently was for him to get away from the tradition of his country's classic architecture when designing a Gothic façade.

The whole front is covered with white marble statues perched on every available place. Gargoyles, like _chevaux de frise_, protrude from every angle and corner. On the brackets over the four main columns of the porches are two horses, a winged lion, and a lion _regardant_. The whole of the front lacks repose, a condition which is intensified by the black and white inlay of the flat surfaces. The centre gable overlaps the portal beneath, and the apexes of the two side gables are beyond the middle of the two side portals. This is a good arrangement, and assists the balance of the composition, which is well restrained by the deep-set gallery and dark shade of the flanking towers.

The pointed windows of the south aisle and transept are canopied. On top of each of the buttresses between them is a white marble figure. The magnificent _campanile_ rises above the chapel close to the south door. Like the rest of the cathedral it is banded in black and white marble. The lowest of its seven courses is constructed with a solid exterior, the next is pierced by an arch, the third by two arches, and so on, increasing until at the top stage there are six arches. Four turrets with slender spires finish off the corners at the top, and a good hexagonal spire rises from the centre. The dome is supported by an open gallery. The idea of a central tower never seems to have appealed to the Italian in his Gothic work; even at Milan the spire of the cathedral can hardly be said to rise from a tower.