|
A splendid open-air staircase leads up to the north entrance of
the
palace, which is, perhaps, the most impressive architectural point
in
all Perugia. Some years ago this fine outer staircase was pulled
down;
but it has been rebuilt with extreme care and taste, and
probably
exactly on the original lines. One can fancy the great procession of
the
_Podesta_ and the _Priori_ proceeding up and down these steps on days
of
solemn ceremony. "Four mace-bearers went before them," we are
told,
"bearing in their hands a silver staff richly covered with
beautifully
wrought figures, with the griffin on the top in enamelled
relief.
Without these mace-bearers it was not lawful for magistrates to go
out."
Each of the ten _Priori_ wore round his neck "a heavy golden chain,
the
emblem of his office; and on solemn occasions the magistrate
was
preceded by six trumpeters to herald his approach with silver
trumpets,
which same were about four metres in length, beautifully enamelled,
and
with streamers of red satin on which the white griffin of the city
was
depicted."
The principal door, from which the _Priori_ probably
emerged, is guarded
by great brazen beasts: a griffin and a lion, emblems of
the city and
the Guelphs. These creatures are very typical creations from the
brain
of some Perugian artist, and among the most impressive objects of
their
sort in Italy. They were originally made for a fountain in the square
by
a certain Maestro Ugolino, who received the modest sum of ten pounds
for
making them. In 1308 the fountain was destroyed, and a little later
they
were hoisted up to their present position. Long chains and keys
hung
from their claws in early days. "At the feet of these beasts,"
says
Rossi, "the bars and keys of the doors of Assisi were hung as
glorious
trophies in 1321; and in 1358 the keys of the Justice Hall of Siena.
The
undisciplined militia which entered Perugia on the 3rd August
1799
pulled them down secretly, ('in the silence of the night'
Mariotti
says,) and thus took from the citizens of the present day
the
satisfaction of restoring to their rightful owners these
disgraceful
mementos of patriarchal warfare with cities, who to-day are their
best
friends. The fragments which remain have not the slightest
historical
interest; they are merely the bars from which the
above-mentioned
articles once hung."
The door with the brazen beasts
above it leads straight into the _Sala
dei Notari_--a splendid vaulted hall,
its ceiling covered with frescoes,
surrounded by high wooden stalls and steps
of walnut. This big hall was
given over to the lawyers of Perugia in 1583.
They bought it, and their
Collegio down below, from the city for the sum of
1000 _scudi_; and they
at once decorated their fine new quarters, and settled
comfortably into
them, doing all their business there till early in the
century. By the
code of Napoleon they were, however, deprived of their
privileges, and
during the imperial French rule the hall was used as a
criminal court.
The lawyers seem to have been utterly unhinged in their
arrangements.
They never returned to the pleasant haunts from which the
Emperor ousted
them, and the big hall is now used for public concerts and
lectures.
The room which corresponds with this one on the upper storey is
now the
Public Library, with a magnificent collection of over 50,000
volumes,
some valuable manuscripts and beautiful painted
missals.
Leaving the _Sala dei Notari_ one crosses the main staircase of
the
palace, and passes into the living heart of the building, into a
network
of separate rooms and offices which it is not necessary to describe
at
length. The _Sala del Consiglio Comunitativo_, or _d'Udienza_,
is
beautifully decorated with crimson damask, and delicate arabesques,
and
has a fine open fire-place carved in _pietra serena_. Adone
Doni's
picture of Julius III. (see page 181) is hung in this room, and from
it
one can gain a pretty accurate knowledge of what the _Priori_ and
the
potentates of Perugia looked like in their gala clothes. In the
_Sala
degli Archivi_ there is a fresco of Parnassus by Baroccio. The colour
is
very fresh still, and the nymphs seem hopelessly out of place above
the
piles of dusty archives.
There is a curious history connected with
the _Sala del
Malconsiglio_--that room with the exquisite fresco by Fiorenzo
di
Lorenzo over its main entrance door.[53] It was here that the
celebrated
debate took place concerning the English prisoners (Hawkwood's
men) whom
the Perugians succeeded in capturing during the great fight down by
the
Tiber. The prisoners concocted a letter as they lay in their cells,
and
in the most pathetic terms they appealed to their capturers; "We too
are
Christians," they urged, "but we die of thirst. Have mercy upon us,
have
mercy on your poor captives, _your English vassals_." The
Perugians,
moved, or more probably flattered by the cringing words, in a
moment of
ill-timed leniency, let their captives free. They lived to regret
the
action. A short time later Hawkwood and his men attacked them in
another
battle on the bridge of S. Giovanni. The English gained an easy
victory,
1500 of the Perugians fell, and the _Podesta_ and the German captain
of
their troops were taken prisoners together with a host of other
men.
Thus it came about that the room in which the council met to decide
the
release of the English was thenceforth called the _Sala
del
Malconsiglio_ in memory of the lamentable decision witnessed by
its
walls.
Hawkwood's men were not confined, as it happens, in the
prisons of the
Palazzo Pubblico, but no pity can be too great for those who
were, for
the Perugians were by no means dainty in their treatment of
prisoners in
mediæval times. The street which runs from the _Piazza_ down
into the
_Via dei Priori_ is still called the _Via della Gabbia_ because of
the
large iron cage which used to hang above it from the upper windows
of
the palace. In this cage the Perugians were wont to imprison thieves
and
other malefactors, and not even the clergy escaped the
horrid
degradation. In 1442 we read of a priest, Angelo di Marino, who
robbed
Roberto di Ser Francesco di Ferolo of some of his possessions:
"the
missing articles," says Fabretti, "were found concealed in the
campanile
and under the altars, and, together with Angelo, the brothers of
the
priest were discovered to be accomplices, also a friar of S.
Fiorenzo
and many other priests and excellent citizens. On the 29th the
said
Angelo was put into a round cage, and with a cord he was dragged up
into
the corner wall of the Palace of the Podesta and there he remained
for
two days, and in the night he was put into prison and in
the
[Illustration: OLDEST PART OF THE PALAZZO PUBBLICO]
loggia of
that palace twelve sacks of stolen goods were stored and round
that cage
there was a garland of false keys ... and on the 28th of
January the said
Angelo was once again put back into the cage at midday,
and it was very cold
and there was much snow, and he remained there till
the first day of
February, both night and day, and that same day he was
brought out dead and
laid upon his bier in the piazza, and he was buried
in the passage of S.
Lorenzo which leads into the cloister."
A big "open-air" prison looked
into the _Via della Gabbia_: a sort of
large cavern in the fathomless walls
of the old building, and here no
doubt the wretched prisoners sat huddled in
chains together, a prey to
all the pigs and passers-by. A corkscrew staircase
leads up from the
lower prisons to the higher storeys of the palace, and into
this, merely
in the thickness of the wall, separate cells are built,
windowless,
undrained, airless places, where other unfortunate persons were
put by
the "men of warlike spirit."
There were even rougher modes than
these of dealing with malefactors. On
one occasion we hear of the most
barbarous butchery of some gentlemen
whose offences were purely political.
Some were "thrown from the windows
of the Palazzo Pubblico, and others were
hanged from the _lumiere_, or
long spikes which project from its lower
walls." The _lumiere_ were
intended for the heads of Perugia's enemies, and
one can fancy the faces
of the butchered men looking down on the unforgiving
citizens, whilst
their blood dripped into the street. All through Perugia's
history we
find references to the _lumiere_: "On the 3rd of July 1541, the
head of
Ciancio de Burelio was borne along by one of the twenty-five rebels
of
the Pope, a student killed him: his head was put on a _lumiere_
outside
the Palace of the _Podesta_" (Fabretti, iii. 22).
There were
strange ways of catching prisoners in Perugia. We find one
statute which
shows us that every artizan was obliged to hang certain
hooks and gaffs to
his house walls "ready to help in the capture of a
criminal, and all were
expected to help in this said capture."[54]
But if there was rude cruelty
shown to prisoners it is fair to say there
was also an occasional rude mercy.
No doubt the latter was excited in
the Perugians by their extreme religious
superstition. We hear of an old
custom of liberating prisoners "_pro amore
Dei_." "Every six months, two
_buon' uomini_ (or good men) were chosen to
elect certain officials who
were given full power to let out five condemned
prisoners on Holy
Friday, two at Christmas, two on the feast of S. Ercolano,
and two on
Corpus Domini. Also two women on every feast of the Virgin Mary.
In the
choice of women, only those condemned for minor offences must
be
liberated. The men let out must have suffered six months'
imprisonment,
and the women one month, and neither must have been liberated
in this
manner (_pro amore Dei_) on previous occasions." Also there was to
be
strict silence on the nature of the offence. The _Podesta_
published
the names of the freed prisoners in three parts of the town so that
the
citizens might protest if they happened to be so minded. Three
days
later the prisoners were free and went to render thanks in the Church
of
S. Ercolano, after which they presented themselves before the
civil
authorities at the Palazzo Pubblico. These _scarcerati pro amore
dei_,
as they were called, were excluded from all public offices, "it
not
being decent," says the statute, "that they should be on the same
level
as the rest of the Perugians."
THE FOUNTAIN.
There is
one remarkable object in the Piazza of S. Lorenzo which has
little or nothing
to do with individual factions or with the affairs of
Church and State, and
this is the famous fountain which we are told was
ever "dear as the apple of
their eye to the people of Perugia." Indeed
the citizens were in the habit of
declaring that their fountain was
"unique not only in Italy but in the entire
world."
This beautiful bit of early Renaissance sculpture needs but a
slight
description here, for its form is familiar to most people either
through
engravings or through photographs. It is, however, a rather common
error
to suppose, as Vasari himself did, that the Pisani were the
sole
architects of the fountain. The only certain work which they did for
it
was the ornamentation of the panels and probably the statues. The
whole
plan of the fountain was supplied by the Perugian architect,
Fra
Bevignate, and it was he who called in other sculptors to help in
the
building.[55] In 1277 he applied to Charles of Anjou for permission
to
employ the Florentine, Arnolfo di Lapo, to help with the sculptures
on
the second basin, and in the same year a certain Rosso designed and
made
the third bronze basin with its pillar and its ornaments of Nereids
and
of griffins on the top.[56]
The fountain rises from the square--a
broad pile of marble now almost
black with age, upon a circle of stone steps.
The second basin is
supported on a forest of slender columns which give an
airiness and a
necessary lightness to the whole. The designs upon its panels,
which are
infinite in their variety, were made by Niccola Pisano and carried
out
by his son Giovanni. These two big marble basins are crowned by a
third
in bronze with the figures of three Nereids rising from it, and
bearing
on their heads the eternal griffin of Perugia, without which
fascinating
beast no single house or building in the city would ever seem
complete.
Niccola Pisano and his son must have studied the tastes of the
Perugians
with exquisite care and tact, combining these with the more
general
artistic taste of the age in which they worked. The panels on the
first
large basin are a fascinating study: the months of the year, and
Æsop's
fables, scenes of domestic life and Roman legend, the griffin and
tales
from the Old Testament, the Umbrian saints, the sciences and arts,
all
wonderfully intermingled upon the separate panels. Even the old
joke
about the fishes is gracefully treated by the Florentine sculptor,
for
Lake Trasimene, as a beautiful woman, clasps three large _lasche_ in
her
rounded arms. S. Ercolano, too, is here in all his glory, together
with
S. Louis of Toulouse and S. Costanzo.
One cannot help wondering
how Perugia got her drinking water in early
days. We may imagine that
it
[Illustration: THE REAPER. DETAIL IN PANEL ON THE FOUNTAIN]
was
entirely through wells, and wells on the top of a hill are apt to
run dry.
Thirst, therefore, was probably a far stronger factor in times
of siege than
the cowardice of her inhabitants, and the city must often
have been driven to
capitulate through the terrible need of water,
rather than through the fear
of foreign arms. As the city grew, a sense
of inadequacy on this particular
point grew too, and people began to
wonder how water could be procured from
some fresh running spring upon
the neighbouring hills; yet to bring it up to
such a height seemed to
the Perugians an almost insuperable difficulty. An
early genius nearly
solved it for them, but like other early geniuses he
failed. In 1254
Frate Plenario, an obscure preaching friar, wandering through
the woods
and hills around Perugia, conceived, what in those days seemed the
most
hazardous scheme, of bringing water into the piazza of the city by
means
of a large aqueduct from the hill of Monte Pacciano, which lies
three
miles or so to the north of the town. Plenario urged his scheme upon
the
magistrates, they approved it, and after certain difficulties as to
the
necessary funds they determined to embark on the
adventurous
undertaking. Frate Plenario was put at the head of the works, and
Messer
Bonomi chosen as architect. But the plan was large, the execution
very
difficult. The arches were built too small and fragile, and carried
at
too low a level. They fell to ruin in the woods, and the poor
little
priest and his friend Bonomi vanished with the desolation of
their
works. Their plans, however, never died, they merely remained to
be
carried out by stronger if not subtler minds.
In 1274 the question
of a fountain again became paramount in Perugia.
More solid channels were
built across the hills and the ambitious
magistrates called in the most
skilled sculptors of the day to decorate
a receptacle for the precious water
when it should arrive. It came for
the first time on the 15th of February
1280, and we can fancy the joyful
pride of the citizens as they saw it
running over the lovely marble and
brass basins which had been so carefully
prepared for it.
The most elaborate and stringent laws were made for the
guardianship of
the fountain and the use of its waters. It was enclosed, as
it is
to-day, with iron railings, and was, as the ever sarcastic
Bonazzi
rightly says, "the subject of most grave solicitude." We hear that
there
were seven troughs which gathered the water outside the railing,
but
"beasts, barrels, unwashed pots, and unclean hands were forbidden
the
use of the water, and indeed this was guarded with such jealous
care
that it seemed as though the people of Perugia had built their
fountain
for the sake of beauty only.... Yet," adds Bonazzi, "the five
hundred
florins which were annually given over to its maintenance,
without
counting extra expenses and the wages of its special porters
and
superior officers, would have been ill-spent indeed if beauty had
been
missing in the monument."
But if it was difficult to bring the
water it was equally difficult to
keep it always running. The elegant pile of
marbles, the thing that the
_Podesta_, the priests and the people all
combined in literally doting
on, was for ever running dry, and growing
lifeless. In this nineteenth
century the Prefect of Perugia is about to send
some forty miles instead
of three to fetch his people water, but the great
fountain will be there
to hold it when it comes, and the first aqueduct will
remain to break
with exquisite lines the little copses and the fields away to
the north
of the city.
We know of few lovelier points about Perugia
than the place where its
water is stored on the lower hills of Monte
Pacciano--low wooded hills
where the
[Illustration: GEOMETRY. DETAIL
IN A PANEL OF THE FOUNTAIN]
white heath grows in spring-time amongst the
copses of crimson-stemmed
arbutus, and where one can lie for hours on the
turf looking away to
Trasimene, and all the waving hills and smaller hill-set
cities of the
Umbrian country. Here the Perugians catch and store their
drinking water
in three great reservoirs. The first of these was built some
time at the
end of the thirteenth century. The masonry is rough and massive,
and the
water seems more green and more mysterious in the mediæval basin than
in
those of this practical nineteenth century. We went there late one
April
afternoon, and lingered long in the cool and cavernous places where
the
water is gathered together. As we came home we traced the course of
the
old aqueducts which have long since been abandoned. The springs
to-day
are carried underground in a sort of switch-back fashion over
the
sloping hillsides. But the ruins of the earlier conduit remain in
their
old places. Seeing them, we thought of the times in which they
had
supplied the men and horses crawling home from some hot skirmish on
the
plain, and of how the water had washed the blood of nobles from
the
steps of the Duomo and quenched the thirst of preaching friars
and
painters. How dead, how _gone_, that passionate past, how hum-drum,
and
how dreary seemed the clatter of the table d'hote when we got back
that
evening.
But in describing the water supply of the city, we have
wandered rather
far afield from the subject of the piazza. A great flight of
steps leads
from the back of the fountain up to the
cathedral.
CATHEDRAL OF S. LORENZO.
As we have pointed out at
the beginning of this chapter, the Church has
suffered terribly, both
from
[Illustration: ON THE STEPS OF THE CATHEDRAL]
neglect and
warfare. The outer walls look very brown and bruised and
naked too, without
their marbles, but as such they form a monument of
history which few would
wish to alter. The first old church was pulled
down in 1200 in order to make
room for a superb new cathedral which was
to take the place of the old one
down outside the city walls at Porta
S. Pietro, and the citizens met in
solemn conclave to talk their
project out, they even appointed their
architect, Fra Bevignate, to make
their plans for them. But the Perugians
were full of wars, and other
business and buildings at that period, and they
soon found that their
funds were far too low to allow of a new cathedral.
They therefore let
the matter drop, and some years passed before they made
another effort.
In 1345 the Bishop laid the foundation stone of S. Lorenzo.
It was a
solemn occasion, and all the clergy were present at the ceremony;
but
the stone, when laid, remained in solitary state for the rest of
the
century, and the people of Perugia were forced to pray and sing,
to
marry and baptise elsewhere, for another hundred years went by
before
the building was completed. Other catastrophes awaited it when
finished,
for the inexorable French Abbot Mommaggiore was at that time
building
his fortress at Porta Sole, and in doing this he found it necessary
to
knock down a great part of the new cathedral. Finally, in the middle
of
the fifteenth century, Bishop Baglioni, whose beautiful tomb stands
to
the right as one enters the cathedral, put the place in
comparative
order again, and it only remained for his descendants to use it
as their
fortress in the years to come!
There is a feeling of great
warmth about the interior of S. Lorenzo,
which is built in the form of a
Latin cross with three naves. The
ceiling is badly painted, much of the glass
is poor, the twelve tall
columns covered with a sort of stucco which imitates
a stone no one has
ever seen and only the artist dreamed of; but with all
these faults the
church has charm, and none of that desolate chill which the
outside
walls suggest. The clergy are rich at Perugia; the people have
never
lost their strong religious sense, which the advance of
civilisation
has turned from a wild fanaticism to a tone of more sober
devotion, and
the services are always impressive in S. Lorenzo--the whole
body of the
choir filled with choristers, the priests forming themselves
into
splendid coloured groups around the bishop's chair, and up against
the
woodwork and red damasks on the stalls.
Something of the life of
the city, and much of the lives of the popes,
has crept into the inner walls
of the cathedral. The chapel of S.
Bernardino stands to the right as one
enters. This belonged to the
Merchants' Guild of Perugia, and by them it was
magnificently decorated.
The merchants purchased their rights to the chapel
in 1515, and they at
once began to adorn it with splendid woodwork. They were
naturally
anxious to get a really good picture for their altar, but they
took
their time to select a suitable artist. Finally, they decided
on
Federigo Baroccio, of whose skill they had heard great things, and
they
sent their captain to Urbino where Baroccio lived, begging him to
come
and paint their altar. The subject chosen was the "Descent from
the
Cross." Federigo came and finished his picture between 1567 and
1568.
Tradition says that he was suffering from the effects of poison which
a
jealous person had administered to him in Rome, as he painted. Be
this
as it may, his picture gave the utmost satisfaction not only to
the
Merchants' Guild but also to "the whole city of Perugia," and
it
scarcely looks like the work of a man who was sickening from the
effects
of fatal drugs, but rather like that of one with all his health and
wits
about him. The figures are full of action, and although the colour is
so
warm and glowing, the atmosphere is one of storm and tempest. To
the
left of the cross the Magdalen strains her white arms to
the
unconscious Virgin whose figure is supported by a radiant woman in
a
yellow gown. To the right S. John stretches forward to catch the body
of
the falling Christ, whilst a young man, leaning backwards in a
hurricane
of wind, supports Him to the left. The only quiet points in
this
over-dramatic composition are the fainting figure of our Lady and
that
of her dead Son. Looking at it one is reminded of Tintoretto's work
in
its extravagant sense of action, but the touch of
sentimentality
throughout is foreign to the Venetian
painter.[57]
Baroccio was a native of Urbino, born there in 1528. He
studied painting
with the Zuccheri and also with Michelangelo, Titian, and
Raphael, and
he had in his day a great reputation for his treatment of
sacred
subjects. It seems that he fell in love with the city of Perugia, for
he
stayed on painting there long after his work was finished, and he
would
often come again like the popes and other tired persons of
distinction.
He adopted a child of Perugia, Felice Pelegrin, and took him
back to
Urbino, where he educated him as a painter. Felice became
distinguished
in his way, and his success encouraged the generous Federigo to
adopt
another child, Felice's brother. But the second experiment was not
so
happy. The boy grew into an astonishingly beautiful young man;
women
idolised him and he was murdered by some jealous rival when
still
comparatively young.
* * * *
*
To the left of Baroccio's picture there is a fine glass window
designed
by Arrigo Fiammingo in 1565. The window has been restored, but
is
beautiful in parts, both in colour and design, and Perugia is not
rich
in coloured glass. The subject represented is S. Bernardino of
Siena
preaching to the people of Perugia in the church of S. Maria del
Popolo.
The Saint is in the background--he, and the people and the
architecture
round him, are brown and quiet in colour. The figures in the
foreground
are far more brightly coloured, notably that of the old merchant
in a
blue cloak. The small naked boy who is leading him is perhaps the
most
charming point of the whole composition. The child's figure is like
a
little S. John, but he is probably meant to represent the Spirit of
the
Merchants' Guild, for he has a bundle bound about his shoulders,
over
which his yellow curls fall down, and a bundle or "_pacco_" is the
sign
of the Merchants' Guild.
The stalls in the chapel are very fine
work of the sixteenth century. A
whole book might easily be written about the
stalls of the Perugian
churches. Their wealth of beauty and of real
excellency is
inexhaustible, but it would be hopeless in so short a space to
attempt
any full description of the individual ones. The choir of the
cathedral
is in itself a fine example and worthy of a very careful
study.
Immediately opposite the chapel of S. Bernardino is that of the
Virgin's
Ring. To the mere lover of art the interest of this chapel is
dead
indeed. Perugino's "Sposalizio": that wonderful design which
Pietro
created for his Duomo, and which Raphael a few years later copied,
went,
as so many of the very best Perugian paintings went, to swell
the
galleries of Napoleon. The poor picture has never travelled back
across
the Alps as many of its contemporaries have done. It hangs on the
walls
of the Gallery at Caen, and an inferior copy fills the frame
which
first was made to hold it.
To the pious, a treasure of
infinitely greater price than Perugino's
altar-piece is still shut safe and
sure within the railings of the
chapel, and this is the wedding-ring of the
blessed Virgin Mary. It was
brought to Perugia by a certain Winterio di
Magonza, who "piously stole
it" from Chiusi in 1472. The Ring is kept in a
wonderful and exquisitely
worked silver casket,[58] but so extraordinary is
its value, that it can
only be seen five times a year, and during the rest of
the time a
monstrous silver cloud covers the spot where it is stowed
away.
We were privileged to see the Ring on one of Mary's greatest feast
days
(December 8th), and to examine it closely, even to handle it. We
shall
not ever forget the sight, which was impressive, and savoured almost
of
a pagan rite. The Ring was exposed from 7 A.M. to 6 P.M. We went to
see
it in the evening. In the square outside it was dark and pouring
with
cold rain, the great church too was dark and cold, a candle or two
in
the organ loft, and the organ sending a stream of mysterious
music
across the aisle, for the benediction. In the chapel of the Relic
there
was light--a blaze of innumerable candles, and underneath, the
priests
and an immense throng of people at their prayers. A staircase hung
with
crimson damask had been built for the day up the side of the wall to
the
little platform where the Ring is kept. We climbed the stairs to
the
platform and entered the chapel up above. There were only a few of
the
privileged Perugians there: some ladies, two smiths with the bolt
and
keys, the custodian, one or two members of the municipality, and
the
_Ring_ which, in the light of all its candles, had an extraordinary,
nay
an even uncanny effect, and seemed cut out of some large opal.[59]
When
the service below was ended, the priest of the Ring arrived up
the
ladder. He took the relic out of its shrine, and a strange,
half
hysterical prayer went up from the tiny crowd. With the
excessive
courtesy peculiar to the Perugians we were asked to come forward:
"You
people of Perugia can always see your Ring, and these ladies
are
strangers," said the priest, who bade us examine it closely. Then
the
locking up began, and it was a mighty business. The relic is kept in
a
wonderful variety of cases. It is first locked into a little
leathern
case with a golden key kept by the bishop. Fifteen other
different
locks, their keys kept by fifteen different persons of importance
in the
city, follow. The weight of the last iron chest which covers the
other
boxes is stupendous. Two locksmiths and a custodian could
scarcely
manage to close it. As the locking up proceeded the candles
went
gradually out in the cathedral, and only one or two small
tapers
remained to light the mysterious burial. We passed from the chapel
into
the rain-swept square, and some of Ciatti's strange, unlikely fables
ran
in our head as we splashed through the desolate wind-swept streets.
He
tells us of the marvellous properties of the Ring--how the
power
possessed by it was so potent that people's ills were cured by
merely
looking at it, and how when a Tuscan lady had the audacity to wear
it,
her hand became withered, even as a dead leaf in autumn. And then
he
gives the story of the finding of the Ring:--
"Now Judith
Marchesana of Tuscany, having a great love of jewellery
(a thing not
contrary to the nature of woman), despatched a certain
Raneiro of Chiusi
to Rome to make diligent search for jewels in
that city. There he
chanced to meet with a jeweller who had just
returned from Jerusalem,
and from him he bought many gems which he
thought would be to the liking
of his mistress. After abiding three
days with the jeweller he decided
to return to his home, and the
Levantine, hearing of this, offered again
to show him more gems
till at last Raneiro grew angered and spoke bitter
words to his
host. 'Nay,' said the jeweller, 'I have treated thee in all
good
faith, but now I know not whether by a spirit I am moved, or by
the
love I bear to thee, but certain it is that I feel driven to
give
thee this Ring;' and he drew a small hoop from out the urn
where
the jewels lay. Raneiro, thinking it was an amethyst, an onyx
or
white agate, which stones are of but very slight importance in
the
history of gems, laughingly told his friend to keep his
precious
gift--'Do not esteem my offering so vile,' said the
Levantine,
'but, believe me, it is the most priceless treasure I
possess; for
be it known to you that this is the wedding-ring of the
blessed
Virgin Mary. Receive it therefore with all reverence, and see
that
the sacred relic fall not into the hands of the
profane.'"
* * * * *
There is a
fine "miraculous"[60] picture on the third column to the
right as one passes
up the aisle of the cathedral. A great many myths
centre around it both as a
work of art and as a healing relic. Some say
that it is the earliest painting
in Perugia, transferred to its present
place from the column of a Pagan
temple where an early Christian
painted it, others that it is the work of
Giannicola Manni. Concerning
the miracles performed by it, the strings of
silver hearts and offerings
bear ample testimony. The painting is very
charming, and we hear that
Perugino loved it as a boy and drew his earliest
inspirations from
it(?). Our Lady stands against a crimson arras, her hands
are opened out
as though to bless, her gown is of a faded pink, her mantle
blue and
lined with the green of early spring. She is so calm, so young,
and
smiling, that one does not wonder at the crowds of worshippers
which
linger always round her shrine.
The chapel of the baptistery has
some good Lombard stone work; and there
are one or two interesting things in
the sacristy; splendid _intarsia_
over the presses where the priests of
Perugia store their gorgeous gowns
of cloth of gold and silver, and a
wonderful bit of early _gesso_ work
in the inner chapel.
* * * * *
There is a big altar-piece by
Signorelli in the chapel of S. Onofrio,
which is interesting as being the
only comparatively good piece of the
master's work in the whole of Perugia.
The picture has suffered much
from restoration, but the restorer contented
himself with mauling the
principal points; he neglected the detail, which is
admirable
throughout. The garlands of pink and white convolvulus behind the
chair
of our Lady are true to life; the Infant Christ carries a stem of
lilies
in his baby hand, and beside the long limbed angel who plays his lute
at
the Virgin's feet stands a tumbler full of the freshest jasmine,
whilst
below him on the steps another glass is filled with fading violets.
One
marvels that a man who could so superbly draw every line and muscle
of
the human body, should care to linger over these frail details of
the
flowers.
In the left transept of the cathedral three of the popes
are buried, and
to anyone who has studied the history of the town and
realised its
connection with the power of Rome this otherwise rather dreary
and
uninteresting corner of the church will conjure up a host of
half
fantastic visions.[61]
The little porphyry urn on the right wall
of the transept holds all the
earthly remains of the three popes, Innocent
III., Urban IV., and Martin
IV., who all died at Perugia. A delightful legend
is told concerning the
death of Innocent. With his usual surprising
seriousness the ingenuous
Ciatti tells us that the following remarkable
vision occurred to a
certain Abbot of the Cistercian order who was living in
the
neighbourhood at the time of Innocent's death:
"Now one hot
summer day, overcome by heavy sleep, the Abbot
withdrew himself under
the shade of certain plants and there lay
down to rest upon the soft
green grass. No sooner had he closed his
eyes in sleep than the eyes of
his mind were opened and he saw
Christ appearing in the east accompanied
by His angelic court and
seated on a throne. Looking to the west the
Abbot then perceived a
naked man, hurrying all out of breath towards the
throne, and not
even the weight of his pontifical mitre impeded him in
this most
rapid progress, for a fierce and terrifying dragon followed
close
behind him, and he was frightened and cried out: 'Have mercy on
me,
oh thou most merciful God.' Wherefore the dragon too lifted up
his
voice and cried: 'Judge with justice, most high judge.' Then
the
good Abbot awoke trembling with fear and much mystified by all
that
he had seen, and arriving at the gates of Perugia, he heard
the
heavy tolling of the bells and was met by the citizens who all
were
wailing with loud voices, crying out: Pope Innocent, Pope
Innocent
is dead.' Then the worthy Abbot understood that it was
Pope
Innocent III. that he had seen, and he marvelled at the mercy
of
Almighty God who treats the humble and the powerful with equal
law
and mercy."
Innocent was, of course, a very powerful Pope,
and the historians of
Perugia gloat over the fact that he did their city the
honour to die in
it, devoting whole pages of their books to this important
subject.
Urban IV. is another remarkable figure in the Church of Rome,
and it was
during his stay at Perugia that he threw his mighty bomb which was
to
explode with such disastrous results upon the land of Italy. He
was
probably staying in the monastery of S. Pietro with his friend S.
Thomas
Aquinas when he sent the fatal letter which summoned Charles of
Anjou
down to Rome. "A terrible comet preceded Urban's death which occurred
in
1264," says Mariotti. There was a report that Urban had been done
to
death by eating poisoned figs, but this is unfounded. The Pope lived
in
constant terror of poison, and by his incessant talk and letters on
the
subject had infected the minds of those around him.
Martin IV. is
the last Pope buried in the Duomo. He often came to
Perugia, and in 1285 he
returned with the full intention of making a
considerable stay there. But he
died on Easter morning, having eaten a
surfeit of eels; (it appears that
Martin IV. was greedy of this
particular delicacy). Dante records the fact in
the "Purgatorio" (canto
xxiv.), where Forese points the Pope out seated among
the gluttons:
" ... e quella faccia
Di la da lui, piu che
l'altre trapunta,
Ebbe la Santa Chiesa in le sue braccia:
Dal
Torso fu: e purga per digiuno
L'anguille di Bolsena e la
vernaccia."
The following inscription is said to have been written over
Martin's
tomb:
"Gaudent anguillae quod mortuus hic jacet
ille,
Qui quasi morte reas excruciabat eas."
Perhaps it was with
a view to expiate this very insulting epitaph that
the Perugians, in spite of
the canons of S. Lorenzo, who refused to
contribute to the fund, erected a
magnificent tomb for Martin later on.
They employed G. Pisano for the
purpose, but only a few fragments of his
work remain. Mommaggiore pulled it
down, as he pulled so many other
things, and used its priceless ornaments to
adorn his own palace at
Porta Sole. The two small pulpits on either side of
the high altar
screen were made, it is said, from the fragments of the tomb,
and also,
perhaps, the marble _Pieta_ with the blue background which hangs on
the
right as you pass back down the church.[62]
The bones of the three
Popes have been terribly pulled about: buried and
then unearthed, buried
again, and changed. Innocent, according to most
authorities, was buried in
the cathedral. About 1376, when Martin's tomb
was destroyed by Mommaggiore,
the bones of Innocent III. were taken from
their resting-place and laid along
with those of the other two popes in
a sort of chest, on the top of a
cupboard, in the sacristy of the new
cathedral. Thence, in 1605, the chest
was removed to another chapel by
order of Bishop Comitoli. When it was opened
the bodies of Martin and of
Urban were found intact, with their mitres and
their chasubles; but of
the powerful Innocent III. only a few broken bones
remained, wrapped up
in a little packet. It is probable that when the three
Popes were
removed from their different tombs in 1376 and stuffed into the
chest,
the memory of Innocent III. in connection with the temporal dominion
of
the popes in Perugia which he was the first to found, induced
some
persons present to violate his tomb. Be this as it may, all the bones
of
the Popes now rest together in the dull little porphyry urn,
crowned
with a brass tiara.[63]
In leaving the cathedral it would be
well to glance at the tomb of
Bishop Giovanni Andrea Baglioni, a beautiful
bit of low relief in
marble. Very lovely are the three small angels with the
ribbons in their
heavy hair, guarding the Baglioni arms, very alien from the
spirit of
that bloody race of men, the gentle figures of the women in the
panels.
THE CANONICA.
One great building in the square remains
to be described, namely, the
Canonica, or, as Bonazzi calls it, the "Vatican
of Perugia." Although a
mere wreck of its former splendid self, this building
is still one of
the finest relics of the mediæval times that the city boasts
of. It
stands to the left of the Duomo--a great mass of bricks, with
huge
cavernous rooms inside, and walls some six to eight feet thick
in
places. The cloister is comparatively modern, but the beautiful
open-air
staircase which leads from it down into the Piazza Morlacchi is
probably
very much the same as it was in the days when the popes arrived to
take
a holiday in their loved Umbrian city.
In old days the
magistrates and the _Podesta_ shared the abode of the
clergy, but, as may
easily be imagined,
[Illustration: IN THE CLOISTERS OF THE CANONICA (OR
SEMINARY)]
this arrangement did not answer, and was, as Bonazzi tells us,
the cause
of most extreme contention between the canons of the Church and
the
councillors of State. The canons had a very comfortable time in
the
Canonica. "Professing to follow the rule of St Augustine," says
Bonazzi,
"they had much to fear from the manifold terrors of conscience."
Their
cellars must have been excessively well stocked, for on one
occasion
when the _Podesta's_ property was burning, the flames were quenched
by
wine: "To extinguish the flames, nothing would do save the
immense
cellars of the colossally rich Canonica."
Of the visits of the
popes to Perugia we have dealt elsewhere (see
chapter ii.). It is enough to
say that they often came to the Canonica;
three of them died there, and there
were five conclaves in the
mysterious halls where the new popes were
elected.
One beautiful story is told in the "Fioretti" about Gregory IX.,
who
doubted of the miracles of S. Francis till the saint appeared in
person
and revealed the truth to him. There is little doubt that the
vision
occurred to the Pope as he slept or dreamed in his grand rooms at
the
back of the cathedral:--
" ...Now let it be known that to
Pope Gregory IX., who was a little
doubtful concerning the wound in the
side of St Francis, and
according to what he himself relates, that the
saint appeared one
night, and lifting his right arm on high he showed
the wound in his
side, and asked to have a little phial fetched; and the
Pope had it
fetched and St Francis bade them place it under the wound in
his
side; and it seemed to the Pope as though truly the phial
became
filled even unto the brim with blood mixed up with water
which
issued from the wound, and from that time forward all doubt
forsook
him, and he, with the consent of all his cardinals, approved
the
holy miracles of St Francis."
Thus the power of the Umbrian
Saint penetrated this grim Umbrian
building, and, appearing to the haughty
Roman Pontiff, overcame him by
the power of pure holiness, even as it had
overcome so many furious
passions in a century that was
evil.
[Illustration: S. FRANCIS FROM THE STATUE OF DELLA ROBBIA AT S.
MARIA
DEGLI ANGELI, ASSISI]
CHAPTER VI
_Fortress of
Paul III.--S. Ercolano--S. Domenico--S. Pietro--S.
Costanzo_
From
an historical point of view the crowning interest of the buildings
of Perugia
was to be found in the great fortress which Paul III. built
in the middle of
the sixteenth century in order to amaze the citizens,
and to subjugate the
rebellious passions of the nobles. For three
centuries this huge building
performed its office admirably and Perugia
lay silent and subdued under the
oppressive shadow of its walls. But no
sooner did other influences appear, no
sooner did the imperial French
power open a way to a freer method of
government than that allowed by
Rome, than Perugia shook herself free of a
yoke which had been odious
from the first, and on the 23rd December 1848, in
the sight of a great
crowd of people, and with a pomp and ceremony dear to
the Perugians from
the very darkest ages of their history, the first stones
of the splendid
building were torn from their places. By a strange
coincidence or,
perhaps, agreement, the man to give the first blow was a
certain
Benedetto Baglioni, and as he let the hammer fall it split
the
cornerstone on the very spot where the palaces of his ancestors
had
stood in former years! The masons followed suit, and soon the bricks
and
stones were tumbling from their places. The whole town joined in
the
work of devastation, but so splendid was the mortar used by
the
builders of the indomitable Paul that at times nothing but
blasting
would destroy the masonry. In one of the great explosions several
people
were killed, "and thus," says Bonazzi, "did the Farnese Pope once
more
avenge himself on us, even after a period of three hundred and
eight
years!"
No sooner was the Papal fortress gone than the Perugians
began to make
new buildings on its site. All the modern architecture of the
town has
sprung, like fresh mushrooms spring, on the site of the old wood,
and it
is not easy in the present day to reconstruct Paul's mighty
citadel,
hampered as our vision is by the open squares and houses which now
have
taken possession of its site. It was divided into two parts. The
top
part covered nearly the whole of the level space which the
Prefetura,
the Hotel Brufani, and the Piazza Emanuele now occupy. The fire of
the
Pope's guns could therefore be turned on recalcitrant citizens
or
nobles, either up the Corso and the Piazza Sopramuro, or down the
main
approach to the city from the road to Rome. A strong branch or
buttress
of the fort ran down from this high level to a second fort which, in
the
shape of a fan, extended itself along the level ground which is
now
occupied by municipal buildings and the Piazza d'Armi; a large part
of
the lower building was devoted to a great walled square for
games,
called the Piazza del Pallone.
Adolphus Trollope was one of the
last people to see and to describe the
great Farnese citadel. He saw it both
before and during its destruction,
and the description which he gives of the
building and of the hatred
which it excited is so vivid that we quote it here
at length.[64]
"Few buildings," he says, "have been laden with a
heavier amount of
long-accumulated popular hatred than this; and few
have more richly
merited it. The Perugians were for many ages--nay, it
may pretty
well be said that they never ceased to be--a hard nut for
the
grinding teeth of papal tyranny to crack, and this huge
Bastille
was, at the time of its erection, a symbol of the final
destruction
of liberty in Perugia.
"When I had last been in
Perugia the entire building was open to
the curiosity and free
examination of the public. There was no
crowd when I wandered over the
labyrinths of its stairs and
passages, guard-rooms, barracks, casemates,
and prisons of every
sort and size. I had the foul place then all to
myself, with the
exception of a few workmen, who were beginning to take
the roof off
one of the upper buildings; for the public of Perugia had
already
satiated their curiosity. I saw the large dungeons, accessible
only
by a circular opening in the pavement of the less dreadful
dungeons
above them; I saw the fearful cells, constructed in the
thickness
of the colossal masonry, in such devilish sort, that the
wretches
who had dared to question the deeds of Christ's Vicar on
earth,
once introduced into the cavity through apertures barely
sufficient
to admit a crawling figure, could neither stand nor sit in
them. I
paced the lofty battlements, which commanded such a panoramic
view
as can hardly be matched, over the beautiful country and the
many
cities within its circuit, all priest-trampled and poisoned; and
I
marked the narrow light-holes in some of the less dreadful
prisons,
through which a miserable, tantalising strip of far distant
sunlit
horizon was dimly visible to the immured victim, who knew too
well,
that he should never, never return to the light of day."
On
Trollope's second visit, that is to say, in 1862, the work of
demolition was
progressing, and an inscription had been placed on the
wall of the piazza
fronting the former main entrance to the fortress,
which struck him as
ironically satirical in its simplicity. It stated
that the magistrates of
Perugia were removing the fortress raised for
the oppression of the citizens
"_for the improvement of the prospect
from the Piazza_"! Some time later
Trollope returned to Perugia. The
fortress was then being quickly pulled to
pieces.
"There were a number of people," he says, "on the occasion
of my
second visit gloating over the progressing destruction of
the
detested walls, as crowbar and pickaxe did their work. I saw
one
remarkable looking old man, with a long flowing white beard,
sitting on a fallen fragment of wall in the sunshine, and never
taking
his eyes from the workmen who were tumbling down the great
masses of
concrete as fast as their excessive hardness would permit
of their being
detached. A gentleman I was with noticed the
direction of my look, and
said: 'That old man comes here at break
of day, and remains till the
workmen knock off at night. He was
many years a prisoner in the
fortress, and was liberated at the
fall of the Papal
Government.'
"I felt that his presence there was fully accounted
for, and that I
could guess without any difficulty 'of what was the old
man
thinking?' as he watched the demolition of his prison
home."
But however great the damage done both to the people and their
buildings
by the fortress of the great Farnese, it must be admitted that the
Pope
at least employed a man of taste to carry out his vast designs.
In
building the new walls and knocking down the old, San Gallo
left
unharmed some of the finer characteristics of the city. He pulled
down
all the Baglioni strongholds, he battered down ten churches, and as
many
as four hundred houses--indeed, he destroyed a little corner of
the
mediæval town--but he preserved, with a tender carefulness, the
church
of the patron saint, S. Ercolano, and one of the first Etruscan
gates:
the Porta Marzia. As it was not possible to keep the latter in the
form
of a city gate San Gallo used it as a decoration, building it into
the
west wall of the fortress where, as Dennis rightly says, it
still
remains, "imprisoned in the brickwork, to be liberated by the shot
of
the next besiegers of Perugia, and looking as much out of place as
an
ancient Etruscan himself would look in the streets of the modern
city."
The Porta Marzia is surmounted by the usual frieze of short pillars,
but
the statues of four mysterious persons are inserted in the niches.
A
tradition in Perugia says that these statues are the portraits of
a
Perugian family who died from eating a large quantity of
poisonous
_funghi_ (mushrooms). How this myth originated it is not possible
to
say, but the figures with their inscrutable history add a phantom
touch
to the already phantom portal. They are probably Roman
divinities.[65]
It is worth getting the doors of the Porta Marzia opened to
see the
funny world inside: a whole small town of battered streets, even
the
fragments of a chapel, and many house-walls still
intact. |
|
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