Part 3

There are two cathedrals in Brescia, La Rotunda and the Duomo Nuovo. The former is one of the most interesting ecclesiastical buildings in Italy. Constructed of stone, with a red brick dog-tooth cornice and twenty-four brick arches, supported by white marble pilasters forming an arcade into which the exterior is divided, a most pleasing effect is obtained. In the interior a circular colonnade, composed of eight extremely massive four-sided piers bearing round arches, supports the stone dome. It is supposed to be of seventh-century construction, and is evidently on the site of an earlier Roman building, as fragments of a mosaic floor exist beneath the present one. This, which is partly tesselated, is much below the level of the ground outside. Lower still, beneath the presbytery and choir, down twenty steps, is a very ancient crypt, in which forty marble columns support the round arches that carry the weight of the fabric above. None of these columns is more than five feet high. Half a dozen blocked up lights, with bases not more than three feet from the floor, are evidence that outside, the level of the ground was at one time far below where it is at present.

The Duomo Nuovo is a finely proportioned edifice and one of the best seventeenth-century churches in the country. The façade is immense and gains by its simplicity. The fine dome is said to be the third in size in Italy; and the lofty interior of white marble, unspoilt by any colour or decoration, gains in space from the fact that there is but one bay to the nave, producing the effect on the senses that one is everywhere standing under the spacious height of Brescia's greatest landmark. The houses of the piazza outside are chiefly occupied by metal-workers, and those who know the incessant din produced by the tapping of their hammers, will quite understand that it was impossible to make a sketch of these two churches as they stand together.

Adjoining the Duomo Nuovo is the Brotello with its fine Torre del Popolo, an embattled tower. The inner courtyard is partly of red brick with a good corridor of the thirteenth century, formed of pointed and round arches and brick groining. Another fine tower stands in the Piazza Vecchia, the Torre del' Orologio. Its enormous dial marks the hours from I to XXIV, the course of the sun and moon, and has the signs of the Zodiac displayed on its face. Two figures that stand on top of the tower strike the hours in a similar way to those on the Clock Tower of Venice. At the west end of the piazza is La Loggia, the town hall, a good example of an early sixteenth-century building. It was commenced, to be accurate, by Tornasso Formentone in 1492 and continued from his designs as far as the first floor. Sansovino was responsible for the second, and Palladio completed what the other two had begun. The building, however, as a whole, is superb. Magnificent arches support the first floor, to which a grand open staircase leads. The medallions and figures which adorn the exterior are extremely good, and the frieze and cornice are equally so. The rich colour of the marble employed lends a beautiful tone to a beautiful building. Unfortunately the interior was burnt out in January 1575. The fire which consumed it is supposed to have originated at the instigation of those who wished to destroy certain ancient charters granting liberties to the inhabitants.

The Torre della Pallata is in a corner of the square--a good specimen of castellated architecture, which rises from a sloping base of immense stones and terminates with a projecting turret.

Brescia contains many fine palaces, and from the streets into which they open one often gets a glimpse, through the iron grille of their portals, of a charming arcaded court. The splash of a flower embowered fountain is music to ear and the cool shade under the arches a rest for eye.

VERONA

Those who enter the Brenner Pass, and with faces set towards Italy, leave Innsbruck behind, may have noticed how, after toilsome puffing and straining uphill, the train suddenly seems to draw breath and glide smoothly onwards with increased pace. At the side of the iron road a little thread of water dances merrily over a pebble bed in its haste to reach the sunny plains that lie to the south of the great mountain barrier. Further on the rail and its sparkling attendant part company to join later, when, from their slender origin, the waters have become a rushing river--the river Adige. The mountains are behind, to the north; the character of the landscape has changed, and within a horseshoe bend of the swift stream, well-nigh enclosed by it, lies Verona.

Verona "La Degna," Verona the Worthy, a city crammed with the history of past wars, a city of colour, in its bricks, in its stones, in its marble walls and fresco adorned palaces. Wherever one turns, be it the pale green of the river on which the wheels of those watermills, so like the Noah's Ark of childhood's days, for ever turn, or the brilliant and keen blue of the sky, there is always colour for the eye in Verona. Colour for the mind too lies concealed in its streets and buildings. Greek, Roman, Ostrogoth and Frank, Italians and Austrians, have all ruled here. Ruled and gone and left their trace on this beautiful city--the key to Alt' Italia--which Italy once more holds and guards with jealous eye. Long may she keep it.

Verona is connected with two great names in the history of Italian architecture, Frà Giaconda, the monk who in the early days of Renaissance was supreme in the north, and Sanmicheli. Many of the fine palaces the former designed bear evidence of his talent and justify the summons to Rome, where he went at an advanced age to superintend the building of St. Peter's. The latter, who evolved the triangular and pentangular bastion, is more widely known in the science of fortification than as a builder. Frà Giacondo's finest work in Verona is undoubtedly the Palazzo del Consiglio, the old town hall called "La Loggia," which stands on the north side of the Piazza dei Signori, one of the most architecturally beautiful squares in Italy. The Palazzo della Ragione, with a courtyard and grand open stairway of the fourteenth century, is on the south of the square next door to the Tribunale, and the Prefettura is opposite. The fine portal of the latter is one of Sanmicheli's works. These magnificent buildings, with the exception of the first-named, were all at one time or another palaces of the great family of Scaligeri or Della Scala, and in one of them Dante, whose statue is in the centre of the Piazza, found refuge when driven from Florence.

The family of Scaligeri, although settled in Verona as early as 1085, comes first before the historian at the death of the bloody tyrant Ezzelino in 1261. Verona, freed from his terrible rule, became at that date a free town, and Mastino della Scala accepted the office of Capitano del Popolo. Onwards for over a hundred years the Scaligeri governed Verona; and during the reign of the most famous of the race, Francesco, or "Can Grande," Great Dog, it became the gathering-place for men of note of all sorts, and his palace the home of the great poet. The family crest, a ladder, is to be seen all over the city, while the unique group of the Scala tombs is without a parallel.

This wonderful group stands outside the little church of Sta Maria Antica at the end of a passage leading out of the Piazza dei Signori.

Of these tombs, that of Mastino I. is a simple sarcophagus ornamented with nothing but a cross. It was at one time covered with a canopy, but the stones of this, being handy, were used for the restoration of Sta Maria Antica close by. The tomb of Can Grande forms the canopy over the portal of this church. Columns support its three storeys. Upon a sarcophagus lies an effigy of the Great Dog with his good sword at his side; above is his equestrian statue in full armour. Mastino II, who succeeded his uncle Can Grande, is likewise represented by a recumbent figure on the sarcophagus of his tomb, which is also crowned by an equestrian statue in armour. The visor of his helmet is drawn down, and thereby hangs the tale that Mastino was ashamed to show his face, even to his wife, after he had treacherously slain with his own sword his relative, Bishop Bartolommeo della Scala. Can Signorio's monument, though not the most elaborate, is decidedly the finest. At the four corners under beautiful pointed canopies, are the figures of Sigismundo, Alexius, St. George, and Signorio himself. A great deal of the bronze work and detail about this tomb is very good, and the equestrian figure on the top is excellent. There, gathered together, these warrior princes of the great family repose in their last long sleep. Those who deem the pen mightier than the sword, may care to reflect that a fame more universal and lasting than that of all the Delia Scalas has been attained by a French scholar of the sixteenth century who also bore the name of Scaliger. Yet even this prince of learning was prouder of his traditional descent from the noble Veronese house than of all his achievements in the world of letters.

And Verona's churches? Tradition says that Charlemagne erected the first building on the site of the Cathedral. The present edifice, though almost entirely reconstructed in the fifteenth century, was commenced in the tenth. The most ancient part that remains, probably a portion of the first church, is the apse, which on its exterior bears traces of Roman influence. It is very simply built of a small cut grey freestone, faced with flat pilasters terminating in Roman capitals, above which is a frieze of floral pattern. In the remainder of the building Verona marble and the rich yellow stone of the district are used.

The double-arched west porch of the twelfth century is exceptionally good. Two colossal gryphons support elegant columns, and still command a certain amount of awe amongst the smaller children who play about the Piazza del Duomo. Both arches are round; the lower is supported by four columns, the upper by eight. Representations on the inner shafts of the lower arch of the two Paladins, Roland and Oliver, give a semblance to the tradition that Charlemagne had something to do with the first church erected here. Oliver holds his celebrated sword, on which is inscribed _Du-rin-dar-da_. Roland is cross-legged and bears his shield. They are both seen in the illustration. The colour of this porch and façade is very beautiful. Great blocks of red marble intermingle with yellow stone, white and pink marble courses continue the construction above, and arabesques of a weathered grey stone complete the harmony. The fine south portal is an earlier erection. Some ancient frescoes decorate the lunette, and monsters grin at one like a nightmare from above.

The interior is lofty and very striking. Tremendous columns support the low Gothic roof, the vaulting of which hardly exceeds the height of the arches between the nave and aisles. Many signs of "giving way" and cracks in the masonry have necessitated iron girders, which detract somewhat from a fine effect. The heavy capitals of the nave columns are rendered rather unsightly by three courses of floral design. The aisles are pointed, narrow, and very good. Encircling the high altar is a colonnade screen, which though beautiful in itself and designed by Sanmicheli, is sadly out of place. The fine bronze crucifix which surmounts it is by Gianbattista da Verona.

The cloisters lie on the north side of the Cathedral. About half a dozen feet below the level of the pavement, standing on its base, is a fine Corinthian column, with a Roman floor around. Between them and the early Lombard church of S. Giovanni in Fonte is a tortuous corridor lined with sepulchral slabs of many archbishops and bishops. This little dark church is formed of four small bays and was formerly the old baptistery. In the centre of the nave stands a huge octagonal font, with a smaller one inside, wherein stood the officiating priest. The figures in bas-relief on these two fonts, which by the way are cut from one solid block of marble, are well worth studying.

Another Gothic church is Sant' Anastasia, which was commenced by the Dominicans in the thirteenth century and is still incomplete. The nave is very fine and has the same low vaulting that is a feature in the Cathedral; its walls, too, are cracked and held together by iron girders. Close to the west door in the interior are two humpbacked figures which hold the Holy Water basins and are of some interest. One of them was executed by the father of Paolo Veronese and the other by Alessandro Rossi, who took his cripple son "Gobbino" for his model.

The most interesting ecclesiastical fabric in the city is, however, the church of San Zenone. It is unspoilt by anything flamboyant or gaudy, and is a fine example of Romanesque architecture--some consider it the finest in North Italy. A ninth-century building stood here before the present structure was begun in 1138. The west façade is marble, the apse and sides of alternating brick and marble courses. The great portal is a most elaborate example of early twelfth-century work, on which are rudely sculptured knights engaging in deadly combat, scriptural subjects and imitations of Roman bas-reliefs with Latin inscriptions. Theodoric on horseback, with feet in stirrups--a very early representation of such--and Roman dress, engages in the chase of the deer with the Devil. The attendant dogs are evil spirits furnished to the Emperor by the Arch-fiend. The ninth-century bronze doors are very remarkable and consist of forty-two square plates fixed on to pine-wood. The subjects of each panel, which are Biblical, are most interesting; some of the little figures wear the conical flat-brimmed hat that may still be seen on the heads of the shepherds in the more remote districts of Venetia. These doors boast no handles, but two huge grotesque heads do duty instead, and are the means of opening and closing them. Above the portal is a wheel-of-fortune window executed by Briolotus. At the top is the figure of a king, and at the bottom lies a prostrate man; between these two are many figures climbing up and falling down in their efforts to reach the best place. The façade terminates in a gable, with a lean-to on either side.

The interior is very striking, not only in its good proportions but in its simplicity, which no side-altars mar. As in the cathedral at Chester, one enters from the west down a flight of steps, held a moment in admiration by the solemn grandeur of this fine church. The beautiful larch roof soars away far above the mellowed floor, the warm colour of the walls and depth of shadow through the arches of the crypt below the choir, create a harmony of colour from our point of vantage not often met with in Italy's churches. The aisles are divided from the nave by alternate piers and red marble pillars, the former with ascending Doric pilasters, two of which, near the west end, support a flying arch beneath the roof and are evident traces of an early vaulting. At the end of the nave, and occupying its last three bays, is the raised choir reached by two flights of marble steps on either side of those leading down into the crypt. On the red marble balustrade of the choir are figures of Christ and the twelve apostles. In a niche on the south side is a forbidding looking figure of S. Zeno, the patron saint of the city, who, being an African, is represented with a black face. The apse at the east end was rebuilt in the fifteenth century and has Gothic windows.

The old Benedictine cloisters of the once attached monastery stand on the north, and contain amongst other tombs twenty-nine of the Della Scalas. The cloisters and tombs are admirably preserved. The former consists of brick arches, pointed on the east and west, and round on the north and south, supported by coupled columns of red marble. Of Verona's forty churches these three are the most typical and interesting, and San Zenone, with its great architectural simplicity and wonderful _campanile_, holds the palm.

It is a city of shapely bell-towers; every church has one. Some are high, others low and unpretending; some are flat topped, others embattled or crowned by the red brick spire which greets one further west in the lake country. But the most beautiful of all is that which stands at a corner of the Piazza dei Signori, adjoining the Palazzo della Ragione, and rears its head over two hundred and fifty feet from the pavement below. Like a queen, this graceful Campanile del Municipio stands, dominating her subjects the other towers, with all the tinkling bells they contain. Across the river from the vantage-ground of the terrace on the hill beneath the Castello S. Pietro, Verona lies mapped out. Her dull red and brown roofs remind one of the harmonious colours of a Bokharan rug. Immediately below, at the foot of the hill, are the ruins of the Roman theatre, and the green waters of the Adige, rushing under the arches of the old stone bridge close by. Straight as a line ran the Roman street to the Porta dei Borsari, erected under the Emperor Gallienus in 265, and out into the country beyond. Between this old gateway, which stands athwart the street almost blocking it, and the river, is mediæval Verona, intersected and crossed by hundreds of _vicoli_, or lanes, and full of subjects for a painter's brush in the _cortili_ that fringe them. At the corner of the Vicola Pigna and the "Alley of the Jutting Stone," is a low marble column with a huge fir-cone on the top, a reminiscence of Roman days. Near at hand is the fine palace that Sanmicheli erected for the Miniscalchi family, and in a lane a few steps away, a crumbling remnant of another fine house with a beautiful portal and row of windows. These are but a few things in the secluded byways of old Verona, where one's feet continually led one on journeys of discovery. Many a silent and deserted courtyard I found, where the grass shyly thrust its head between the cobblestones, and where creepers came wantonly trailing down over old walls in a sweet endeavour to hide the decay of man's handiwork.

From all these it is but a step to the focus of the city's life, the Piazza delle Erbe, the forum of Roman rule, and the most picturesque market square in Italy. In the centre--and seen in the sketch--is the small open tribune which occupies the place of an old building where the newly elected Capitano del Popolo was invested with the insignia of his office. The fountain farther up the square was erected by Berengarius in 916, and supplied with fresh water by Can Signorio. The figure surmounting it gazes stonily every day over a sea of umbrellas which shelter the market folk below. Can Signorio beautified his native city, and erected the tower at the end of the piazza--a tower which can boast of the first public clock. The Lion of St. Mark stands on an isolated column, surrounded by vegetable and fruit stalls, in front of the Palazzo Tresa, a highly ornate specimen of the seventeenth century. Many of the old houses still bear traces of the frescoes which covered them, and which at one time must have made Verona's streets veritable galleries of decorative art. Others retain the marble balconies which formed so fascinating a feature of the city's architecture.

Of earlier days there still remains one of the grandest ruins in Italy--the celebrated Amphitheatre. It was the night of a hot day; a blood-red moon, mounting on her upward path in the copper-coloured sky, left a grim mass of deep shadow beneath. Bats were hawking in and out of the black shadow, as yet unrelieved by the electric lights, and the spacious piazza was nearly empty. An ominous feeling, intensified by the distant hum of the busier parts of the city, unsettled one's nerves. My thoughts travelled back to the time when, there behind that gloomy mass, slaves would be cleansing the arena after a scene of cruel sport, and the distant hum was nothing but the excited throngs discussing the brutal slaughter. Did the great poet in his twilight wanderings ever see such a moon and such a sky? It was certainly an evening that would have enticed him to shun the noisy company of his fellow men and saunter alone in the shadow of the great Amphitheatre. Perhaps his spirit was there now. Small wonder that in my dreams that night the howls of a cruel audience and the gentleness of the lonely poet were mixed up in inextricable confusion.

PADUA

The quaint old city of Padua lies on the beaten track to Venice. In its great Basilica repose the remains of St. Anthony. Giotto's frescoes in the Church of the Madonna are still a glory to behold, its university is one of the oldest in Europe, and the modern epicure can drink coffee of the very best at Pedrocchi's, an establishment as well known amongst Italians as the celebrated Florian's at Venice. The origin of Padua goes back to Antenor, whose tomb occupies a corner near the Ponte de Lorenzo close to the house at one time inhabited by Dante. A sarcophagus was discovered in 1274 during excavations for the building of a foundling hospital, and when opened, a skeleton of immense size, one hand still gripping a sword, was seen inside. Who could it be but Antenor? There was Virgil's authority for it that he had founded Padua--so Antenor it was who lay there in his stone coffin, and the good folk of Padua carried the sarcophagus and its contents to the church of S. Lorenzo amidst great excitement. The church has been demolished but the tomb was spared.

Padua's tortuous streets are lined with arcades, and although modern requirements have ordained that some should be altered and the houses pulled down, it still preserves an air of mediæval antiquity. Situated on the winding little river Bacchiglione and intersected by other small streams, it forms in the itinerary of the tourist a sort of prelude to Venice. Innumerable bridges span these waterways. Some of them are of Roman construction; and wherever one's footsteps lead one, be it along the _riviere_--the open streets that run by the side of the streams--or the narrow ways that may be likened to a rabbit warren, the great charm of bygone days lingers in them all, and still clings to its old walls and bridges.

The Cathedral, with an incomplete façade, was not finished till 1754. It is a vast, ugly structure of brick with a _campanile_ and dome. The whitewashed interior possesses no redeeming feature; unless it be a rather pleasing course of grey marble that runs round on a level with the capitals of the grey columns. A bust of Petrarch, who was a canon here, and some beautiful twelfth-century MSS. with exquisite miniatures in the sacristy, are the most interesting things it contains. If there is but little in the Cathedral worthy of notice there is much in the other churches of Padua.

Sta Giustiana is a very fine building of the sixteenth century, commenced from designs by Padre Girolamo da Brescia and finished fifty years later by Andrea Morone. All its altars are decorated with scrolls and floral patterns, in the inlaid marble work for which Italy has been famous for many generations.