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Title: The Story of Perugia
Author: Symonds, Margaret, Gordon, Lina Duff
Language: English
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*** Start of this LibraryBlog Digital Book "The Story of Perugia" ***
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_The Story of Perugia_
_All rights reserved_
_First Edition, February 1898_
_Second Edition, December 1898_
_Third Edition, April 1900_
_Fourth Edition, May 1901_
[Illustration: _Perugino._]
_The Story of_ Perugia
_by Margaret Symonds
and Lina Duff Gordon_
_Illustrated by M. Helen James_
[Illustration]
_London: =J. M. Dent & Co.=_
_Aldine House, 29 and 30 Bedford Street_
_Covent Garden, W.C._ 1901
PREFACE
When but a little while ago we undertook to write a "guide book" to one
of the better known towns of Central Italy, we realised perhaps
imperfectly how wide and full was the field of work which lay before us.
The "story" of Perugia is, like the story of nearly all Italian towns,
as full and varied as the story of a nation. Every side-light of history
is cast upon it, and nearly every phase of man's policy and art
reflected on its monuments. To do justice to so grand a pageant in a
narrow space of time and binding was, we may fairly plead, no easy task;
and now that the work is done, and the proofs returned to the printer,
we are left with an inevitable regret; for it has been impossible for us
to retain in shortened sentences and cramped description the charm of
all the tales and chronicles which we ourselves found necessary reading
for a full knowledge of so wide a subject.
If this small book have any claim to merit it is greatly due to the
faithful and ungrudging help rendered to its authors throughout their
study, by one true guide; by many old friends; and by the inhabitants of
the town whose name it bears for title. We can never adequately express
our sense of gratitude to the people of Perugia, to whom we came as
utter strangers, but who received us with such great courtesy and
kindness as to make our stay and study in their midst a pleasure as well
as an education.
Our book is intended for the general traveller rather than for the
student. We have offered no criticism, and have quoted whenever we could
from the pages of contemporary chronicles. We have dealt with Perugia as
with the heroine of a novel, describing her particular progress, and not
confounding it with that of neighbour towns, equally important in their
way, and each struggling, as perhaps only the cities of Italy knew how
to struggle, towards an individual supremacy in a state lacerated by
foreign wars and policies.
In dealing with one of the most vivid points in the history of the
town--the Rule of the Nobles--we have, with some diffidence,
incorporated into our narrative the words of one who had already drawn
his description of the subject straight from the original source,
treating it with such a powerful sympathy as it would have been
impossible for us to rival. For further knowledge of this terrible
period we can but refer the student to the chronicle of Matarazzo.
(_Archivio Storico_, vol. xvi. part 2.)
With the art of Umbria we have dealt only shortly, and from the point of
view of sentiment rather than that of criticism. For a severe and
thorough knowledge of the technique and use of colours employed by the
men who lived through such scenes as we have described in chapters II.
and III. we must refer the reader to the works of other authors. For our
dates, and facts in reference to art, we have relied on Kugler, Crowe
and Cavalcaselle, Rio, Vasari and the local writers, Mariotti,
Lupatelli, Mezzanotte, etc.
It remains to give a list of the books which we have consulted for the
history. Amongst these are the Perugian chronicles contained in the
_Archivio Storico d'Italia_; Graziani, Matarazzo, Frolliere, and
Bontempi; Fabretti's chronicles of Perugia, and his "_Vita dei
Condottieri, etc._"; and the local histories of Ciatti, Pellini,
Bartoli, Mariotti, and Bonazzi. Villani and Sismondi have been
consulted; Creighton's "_History of the Papacy during the Reformation_,"
and von Ranke's "_History of the Popes_."
Of the purely local histories mentioned above Bonazzi's is the most
important. His two bulky volumes are excellent reading in spite of his
sarcastic and often unjust bitterness against the clerical party. A
number of local pamphlets, the names of whose authors we cannot here
enumerate, have been used for various details, together with other books
on a variety of subjects, such as Dennis' "_Etruria_," Broussole's
"_Pélerinages Ombriens_," Hodgkin's "_Italy and her Invaders_," etc.,
etc.
When all is told, by far the most valuable and trustworthy authority on
Perugian matters is Annibale Mariotti. A local gossip who combines with
his gossiping qualities an exquisite sense of humour, and a real genius
for investigation in matters relating to his native town, is the person
of all others from whom to learn its actual life and history. Mariotti
is an eminent specimen of this class of writers, and no one who is
anxious to understand the spirit of Perugia should omit a careful study
of his works on the _Popes_, the _People_, and the _Painters_ of
Perugia.
For personal help received we have the satisfaction of offering in this
place our sincere thanks to Cav. Giuseppe Bellucci, professor at the
University of Perugia, whose wise and kindly counsel has led us
throughout to an understanding of countless points which must, without
him, have remained unnoticed or obscure. Our notes on the museum are
practically his own. We would mention also with grateful thanks Dr
Marzio Romitelli, Arcidiacono of the cathedral of Perugia, who
generously opened his library to us, and many of whose suggestions have
been of service to us. To Count Vincenzo Ansidei, head of the Perugian
library, our sincere thanks are offered here.
We must further acknowledge the help of Signor Novelli of Perugia; of
Mrs Ross, Mr Hayllar, and Cav. Bruschi, head of the Marucelliana Library
at Florence. Lastly, of Mr Walter Leaf and Mr Sidney Colvin in the
revision of proofs.
The comfort of our quarters in the Hotel Brufani needs no description to
most Italian travellers, who are already familiar with that delightful
house; but we are glad to mention here our appreciation of the care and
thoughtful kindness shown to us by our English hostess in the Umbrian
town. The courtesy received by us at headquarters from the Prefect of
Umbria and Baroness Ferrari his wife, made our stay, from a purely
social point of view, both easy and delightful.
To close these prefatory notes we can but say how sincerely we trust
that the following pages may serve only as a preparation, in more
capable hands, for further and far fuller records of a city whose
history is as enthralling to the student of men as its pictures and
position must ever be to the lover of what is beautiful in nature and in
art.
_August 21st, 1897._
AM HOF. DAVOS.
CONTENTS
CHAPTER I
PAGE
_The earliest Origins of Perugia and Growth of the City_ 1
CHAPTER II
_The Condottieri and the Rise of the Nobles_ 33
CHAPTER III
_The Baglioni. Paul III. and last years of the
City_ 58
CHAPTER IV
_The City of Perugia_ 82
CHAPTER V
_Palazzo Pubblico, The Fountain and the Duomo_ 109
CHAPTER VI
_Fortress of Paul III.--S. Ercolano--S.
Domenico--S. Pietro--S. Costanzo_ 151
CHAPTER VII
_Piazza del Papa, S. Severo, Porta Sole, S.
Agostino and S. Francesco al Monte_ 178
CHAPTER VIII
_Via dei Priori--Perugino's House--Madonna
della Luce, S. Bernardino and S. Francesco_ 201
CHAPTER IX
_Pietro Perugino and the Cambio_ 216
CHAPTER X
_The Pinacoteca_ 230
CHAPTER XI
_The Museum and Tomb of the Volumnii_ 267
CHAPTER XII
_In Umbria_ 290
ILLUSTRATIONS
PAGE
_Via del Aquedotto, showing Tower of the Cathedral_ 5
_Lombard Arch on the Church of S. Agata_ 14
_Palazzo Baldeschi_ 23
_Arms of Perugia_ 32
_Via delle Stalle_ 39
_Niccolò Piccinino_ 53
_Palazzo Pubblico_ 57
_Fortress of Paul III., showing the Upper Part,
now occupied by the Prefettura, etc., and
the Lower Wing, which covered the site of
the present Piazza D'Armi_ 77
_Perugia from the Road to the Campo Santo_ 83
_Etruscan Arch, Porta Eburnea_ 87
_Mediæval Staircase in the Via Bartolo_ 89
_Piazza Sopramuro, showing the Palace of the
Capitano del Popolo and the Buildings of
the first University of Perugia_ 101
_Convent of Monte Luce_ 107
_Piazza di S. Lorenzo, seen from under the
Arches of the Palazzo Pubblico_ 111
_Remains of the First Palazzo dei Priori in the
Via del Verzaro_ 114
_Oldest part of the Palazzo Pubblico_ 121
_The Reaper. Detail in a panel on the Fountain_ 127
_Geometry. Detail in a panel on the Fountain_ 131
_On the Steps of the Cathedral_ 134
_In the Cloisters of the Canonica (or Seminary)_ 147
_S. Francis_ 150
_Porta Marzia_ 155
_Church of S. Ercolano and Archway in the
Etruscan Wall_ 157
_Detail of the Tomb of Pope Benedict XI. in the
Church of S. Domenico_ 166
_House in the Via Pernice_ 179
_Arco d'Augusto_ 189
_S. Agostino and Porta Bulagajo_ 191
_Church of S. Angelo_ 195
_The Old Collegio dei Notari, said to be the studio
of Perugino_ 202
_Torre degli Scirri_ 203
_Etruscan Arch of S. Luca_ 205
_Mercy. Detail on Façade of the Oratory of
S. Bernardino_ 209
_Perugino: Madonna and Patron Saints of Perugia,
painted for the Magistrates' Chapel at
Perugia, now in the Vatican at Rome_ 221
_First Translation of the Body of S. Ercolano
(Fresco in the Pinacoteca of Perugia)_ 243
_Gonfalone of the Annunciation attributed to Niccolò
Alunno_ 249
_Adoration of the Shepherds. By Fiorenzo di
Lorenzo_ 253
_Via Della Pera under the Aqueduct on the way
to the University_ 269
_Etruscan Mirror in Guadabassi Collection_ 280
_Tomb of Aruns Volumnius_ 287
_The Temple of Clitumnus_ 301
_Narni (with Angelo Inn in foreground)_ 307
The Story of Perugia
CHAPTER I
_The earliest Origins of Perugia and growth of the City_
Sometimes in a street or in a country road we meet an unknown person who
seems to us wonderfully and inexplicably attractive. Perhaps we only
catch a passing vision; the face, the figure passes us, oftener than not
we never meet again, and even the memory of the vision which seemed so
full of life, so strong, and so enduring, passes with the years, and we
forget. But had we only tried a little, it would, in almost every
instance, have been possible to follow the figure up, to learn what we
wanted to know about it, to understand the reason why the face was full
of meaning to us, and what it was which went before and gave the mouth
its passion, the eyes their pain and sweetness. In nine cases out of ten
we can, in this nineteenth century, discover the birth and parentage,
the loves and hates, of any human being we may wish to know. But this is
not the way with cities, and although they attract us in almost
precisely the same fashion as people do, we cannot always trace their
earliest origins. There are certain towns we come across in travel, of
which we know very well that we want to know more. Perugia is one of
these. It at once catches hold of one's imagination. No one can see it
and forget it. A breath of the past is in it--of a past which we dimly
feel to be prehistoric. Boldly we set to work to learn its history, and
at first this seems an easy matter: the later centuries are a full and
an enthralling study, for as long as men knew how to write they were
certain to write about themselves, and the writers of Perugia had a wide
dramatic field to work upon. But then come the records which are not
written--which, in fact, are merely hearsay; and further even than
hearsay is the period when we know that men existed, but which has no
history at all beyond a few stone arrow heads, and bits of jade and
flint. Yet, to be fair to a place of such extraordinary antiquity as
this early city of the Etruscan league, one is unwilling to leave a
single stone unturned, and in the following sketch we have gathered
together, as closely as we could, the earliest facts about a city which
attracts us, as those unknown people attract us whom we meet, admire,
and lose again in the crowd.
"It seems," says Bonazzi, the most modern historian of Perugia, "that in
the earlier periods of the world all this land of ours (Umbria) was
covered by the sea, and that only the highest tops of the Apennines rose
here and there, as islands might, above the waves. Then other hills
arose, a new soil was disclosed, and great and horrid animals, whose
teeth were sometimes metres long, came forth and trod the terrible waste
places. In the silence of these squalid solitudes, no voice of man had
yet been heard, and the stars went on their way unnoticed, across the
firmament of heaven...."
But Bonazzi's science, though highly picturesque, was not entirely
correct, and the following account, written by an inhabitant of Perugia
who has studied the history of his town and neighbourhood with faithful
precision and from the darkest periods of their existence, may well be
inserted here.
"The city of Perugia," Prof. Bellucci writes, "is built upon a
piece of land which was formed by a large delta of the primeval
Tiber. In very early times (during the period known as pliocene)
the Tiber, before running into the sea, formed in the central basin
of Umbria an immense lake. The soil of which the actual plain of
Umbria is now composed, and the numerous low hills which surround
it, are made up either of river deposits such as sand and rubble
left behind by the rush of waters, or else by clay deposits which
slowly formed themselves in the quiet bosom of the lake. The date
of these deposits is shown by the fossil remains which are found in
them: elephants, rhinoceros, hippopotamus, stags, antelopes,
hyenas, wild dogs, &c., all of which indicate a much warmer climate
than that of the present day. In the period following on this, the
great lake of Umbria began to empty itself; and as the soil washed
gradually away, the waters forced a passage through the mountains
below Todi, and from that time onward the Tiber gradually assumed
its present course. The characteristic fauna of this second period
distinguishes it from the first. Numerous remains found in the
primitive gravel deposits of the Tiber prove the existence of man
in our neighbourhood during both these periods (namely the
paleolithic and neolithic). But the final drying up of the great
lake basin or valley of Umbria was a very slow process, and even in
Roman times the extent of these stagnant waters was so wide that
the present town of Bastia on the road to Assisi was surrounded by
them on every side and went by the name of _Insula Romana_. The
final drainage of the lake was not completed till some time in
1400, when the river Chiagio burst through the rocky dykes under
Torgiano and lowered the level of the water by four metres. Thus
central Umbria at last assumed its present aspect. We stand upon
the hill-top at Perugia where once thousands of years ago the
turbid waters of the Tiber rushed along, and at our feet stretch
the green and fertile fields of Umbria, all the fairer for the
fertilising waters of that mighty lake which, in the dim and
distant past, had covered them completely."
We have no definite date or name for those first men who came to live
in this strange marshy wilderness. We have only the relics of their
patient industry. An inexhaustible store of arrow-heads and other
barbarous stone implements is found in all the hills around Perugia, and
splendid hatchet heads of jade upon the shores of Trasimene. No doubt
these men lived in holes and caves, perhaps at the foot of this hill
where the present city of Perugia stands, or a little to the west of it,
but their history is dark and very far away. Dark too and far away, as
far as written facts remain, is the history of that almost more
mysterious race of men which followed on the prehistoric one, namely,
the Etruscans.
This is no place in which to discuss the origin of that extraordinary
people whose language and parentage, though they lived and laboured side
by side with the most cultivated and inquisitive of European nations, is
practically dead to us. It is enough at this point of our history to
note that the Etruscans were the first to seal their personality, with
the seal of a visible and tangible intelligence, upon this corner of the
world, and it is quite probable that they made one of their earliest
colonies upon the jutting spur of a line of hills which would have
attracted them upon arrival. It is certain that in course of time
Perugia became one of the most powerful cities of the Etruscan league.
Her museums are full of the pottery, tombs, inscriptions, toys, and
coins of the mysterious nation (see Museum, chapter XI.).
Innumerable myths grew up around the foreign people, and individual
historians described their advent in individual places and pretty much
at random. The earliest chroniclers of Perugia, ignoring the men who had
perhaps existed for centuries before this unknown nation
landed,--ignoring too, the other settlers,--pounced upon a plum so
precious and romantic to stick into the pie of legends that they were
concocting; they
[Illustration: VIA DEL AQUEDOTTO, SHOWING TOWER OF THE CATHEDRAL]
peeled and stoned the plum to suit their fancy, and having done so,
stuck it in with many others to swell the list of dubious tales in their
long-winded manuscripts. As these chroniclers were nearly always monks,
it was natural enough that they should form their shambling history on
the one great history that they possessed, _i.e._, the Bible. To them
the Etruscans were easily and most satisfactorily explained: they
descended from the first man, Adam, and they were the sons of Noah. Nay,
the monks made an even happier hit, for they declared that Noah in
person climbed the Apennines and pitched his tent upon the spur of hill
where the present city stands! We can well imagine the old monk Ciatti,
one of the earliest historians of Perugia, sitting before his wooden
desk upon some dreamy night in May, his Bible propped before him, all
Umbria asleep beneath the stars outside his window, and compiling the
following entrancing legends concerning the Etruscans and their leader:
"Serious writers hold _Janus_ to be the same as _Noah_, who alone among
men saw and knew all things during the space of six hundred years before
the Deluge and three hundred years after the Deluge. The ancient medals
which show the two faces of Janus are engraved with a ship, to denote
that he was Noah, who, entering an ark in the form of a ship, was saved
by divine decree from the universal Deluge."[1] Ciatti next goes on to
give a delightful description of the arrival of Noah and his sons; "they
penetrated," he says, "into Tuscany,[2] where, fascinated by the
loveliness of the country, the agreeable qualities of the soil, the
gentle air and the abundance of the earth, they determined to remain;
but feeling uncertain where they should fix their dwelling, they were
advised by certain augurs to build Perugia on the spot where it now
stands." Some say that the name Perugia comes from the Greek word for
"abundance." Certainly Ciatti was able to weave this fact into his
legendary web: "Whilst, waiting for the Augurs," he writes, "two doves
passed by them, flying to their nest, one carrying a branch loaded with
olives and the other an ear of corn. Soon after there came a big wild
boar carrying on his tusks a bunch of grapes. They took these signs to
mean good omens, and they decided to build Perugia on the spot."
Ciatti must have been an honest chronicler. Had we been given his early
possibilities of making history in our own fashion, we must inevitably
have told a credulous public that the ark itself rested upon the spurs
of the Apennines and disgorged its contents on the hill where stands the
present city of Perugia. But Ciatti withheld his hand from this, and we
too must bare our heads before the fact of Ararat, and only hold to that
of Noah, in his five-hundredth year or so, wandering unwearied forth to
form a mighty nation on the coasts of Italy!
But before leaving Ciatti and his early myths, we must do him the
justice to say that he was not utterly ignorant of a dim nation and of
dimmer monsters living perhaps before the days of the Deluge. The old
monk, like other wise historians, sets to work to hunt up the heraldry
of his native city, and thus he explains the origin of the griffin on
the city arms. The enthralling hunt described savours surely of
something in an even earlier age?
"Now it so happened that, when the people of Perugia and of Narni
were at the height of their prosperity, they became consumed by a
very warlike spirit, and cultivated freely all military exercises,
and on one occasion they challenged each other to a trial of
prowess in a celebrated hunt. They agreed to meet in the mountains
round about Perugia, which were then the haunt of fierce and
terrifying wild beasts, and having come to that mountain which now
takes its name from the event (Monte Griffone) they found there a
griffin, which the Perugians captured and killed. After some
dispute the monster was divided, the skin and claws being best
worthy of preservation were taken by the Perugians, whilst the
body fell to the people of Narni. In memory of this occurrence the
Perugians took for their arms a white griffin--white being the
natural colour of that animal--while the people of Narni took a red
griffin, corresponding to the part which had fallen to their share,
on a white field."[3]
But, to pass from the realms of myth to those of reality, it seems quite
certain that the Etruscans--or Rasenae as they are sometimes
called--spread themselves over a large part of Italy, building and
fortifying their cities, making roads and laws and temples, and casting
the light of an older art and civilisation upon the land to which they
came as colonists. One of the chief of their cities was Perugia.
Fragments of the old walls, built perhaps three thousand years ago,
still stand in places, clean-cut, erect, and menacing, around the
Umbrian city.
The lives of the Etruscans can only be studied through their art, and
Perugia holds an ample store of this in her museums. There, in those
rather dreary modern rooms, stone men and women smile upon their tombs,
and the sides of these tombs bristle with long inscriptions written in
an alphabet that we can partly read, but in a language that we cannot
understand. Mirrors, and beautifully painted pots, children's toys and
ladies' curling-tongs--the Etruscan dead have left no lack of records of
their ways of living. But, strong as was their personality, another and
a stronger force had struggled through the soil of Italy. Rome had
arisen to shine upon the growing world. It remained for Rome to leave
the stamp of veritable history upon the city of Perugia.
Throughout the early history of Rome, we catch dim rumours of an
occasional connection or warfare with this corner of Etruria. It is not
till 309 B.C. that we have any distinct mention of Perugia in connection
with Rome. In that year the Roman Consul, Fabius, fought a battle with
the Etruscans under the walls of the town. The Etruscans lost the day,
Perugia and other cities of the League sued for a truce with Rome which
was granted to them. Fabius entered Perugia "and this was the first
time," says Bartoli, "that the banner of foreigners had waved across our
city." Perugia bitterly resented the rule of the foreign power, and,
breaking her truce, she made several passionate efforts to regain her
freedom. But in vain. Her blood, perhaps, was old, and grown corrupt,
the blood of Rome was new and palpitating. She was again and again
overcome by Fabius. In 206 B.C. we find her, not exactly submitting to
Rome, but playing the part of a strong ally, and cutting down her woods
to help in the building of a fleet for Scipio. Her history continues
dark--overshadowed by that of Rome. We hear a faint rumble of the Roman
battles. We catch dull echoes of Hannibal and Trasimene, for Trasimene
is very near Perugia. Did some of her citizens creep down perhaps, and
get a vision of the fight? Did any of those much-bewigged Etruscan
ladies, who we know were very independent in their ways, tuck up their
skirts and follow through the woods to have a look at the elephants and
shudder at the swarthy African?
We cannot tell. The next clear point in her history is a terrible one
for Perugia. She fell, but she fell by a mighty hand, by that of the
emperor Augustus. In the year 40 B.C. the Roman Consul, Lucius
Antoninus, who, it may be said, was defending the liberty of Rome whilst
Mark Antony lay lost in a love-dream upon the banks of Nile, took
refuge within the walls of Perugia from the pursuit of Octavius
(Augustus) who then laid siege to the town. For seven months the brave
little city held out, but she was reduced to such a terrible distress of
famine that Lucius at last gave way, and opened her gates to the
conqueror. Octavius entered Perugia covered with laurels. The citizens
prayed for mercy. He spared most of the men and women, but he excepted
three hundred of the elders and saw them singly killed before his eyes.
When they prayed for grace he merely tossed his head back and repeated:
"They must die." This ordeal over, Octavius decided to postpone the sack
of the city until the following day. But one of its citizens, Caius
Cestius Macedonicus, hot with all the shame of the thing, got up at
night and made a funeral pyre of his house. He set fire to its walls,
and as it burned he stabbed himself and died there. The flames spread
through the city, and before the morning Perugia was burned to the
ground. Nothing remained of all its buildings except the temple of
Vulcan, and in memory of this fire the town was afterwards dedicated to
Vulcan instead of to Juno to whom it had formerly belonged. Octavius
returned to Rome bearing before him the image of Juno, which alone had
been saved from the flames. Some years later he agreed to rebuild the
city, and hence the letters _Augusta Perusia_ over her gates.
* * * * *
So laying aside for ever _Perusia Etrusca_, that city of strange beasts,
strange people, and strange myths, we face _Perusia Augusta_, or the
Perugia of Rome.
For some centuries, strange as it may appear, the powerful old Umbrian
hill-town seems to have fallen contentedly asleep under the rule of her
great protector. It was, as we know, the policy of Rome to adopt the
laws and customs of the people whom she conquered rather than to change
them, and indeed the alteration seldom went further than in name. The
Etruscan rulers therefore took the titles of Roman governors, they did
not really alter, and it is probable that the laws of the very earliest
settlement have never really become extinct. The _Lucumo_ of the
Etruscans was in all probability the descendant of the earliest
prehistoric village chief, who developed into the _Diumvir_ or
representative of the Roman Consul pretty much as the present _Sindaco_
succeeded to the position of the _Podestà_ of the middle ages.
Rome had always loved and studied the religions of the older people, and
Bonazzi infers that Rome "delighted in nursing on the breast of her
republic those great masters of Divinity who could be made such powerful
political instruments for her service." The Romans must have
intermarried freely with the Etruscans; the mixture of names and
lettering upon their tombs points to this fact. But the strong fresh
blood of the younger race seems to have overcome that of the more
corrupt one. Other tribes and other tongues pressed in upon the first
inhabitants and gradually the language, yes, and the memory of the
strange and fascinating people, died.
Of the Roman occupation little trace can be found in the architecture of
the city, beyond the walls and gates and the inscriptions over some of
these, together with a sorry fragment of a Roman bath. It must be
remembered that the entire city was burned to the ground after the
siege--burned with all her wealth of monuments and temples--and it does
not seem as though the Romans did much to beautify her with grand
buildings. Having no old buildings to use as raw material, they were
probably content at this period to build strong walls and houses
suitable for a fortified town, thus fostering the warlike character of
her inhabitants which was to prove so great a point in following
centuries.[4]
Roman rule was a very real piece of history, but it is not possible to
say that the period of myth and darkness had wholly passed away. We
possess a certain knowledge of the Roman government, but the shadow of
the Gothic and Barbarian night closes in upon it like a heavy pall; and
the next clear and startling point about Perugia is her recapture by
Belisarius followed by the siege of Totila (or Baduila).
During those terrible centuries when Italy was being ravaged by
perpetual invasions, her lands devastated by war and plagues and famine,
and her cities, as one historian says, "no longer cities, but rather the
corpses of cities," we find scant mention of actual harm done to
Perugia, for it was the north which suffered first. However, as the
Goths pressed southward upon Rome, as Rome herself wavered and sank
beneath the weight of the northern hordes, and of her own corruption, we
gather that the Umbrian cities too became a prey to the barbarians, and
that Perugia suffered the fate of all her neighbours. Her historians
seek in vain for stated records of this time where all is darkness, but
some dim facts shine out, among them the steady growth of Christianity
within the city.
The first important date we find follows nearly six hundred years after
her capture by Augustus. It was in 536 A.D., that Justinian, who had
conceived the mighty plan of recovering Africa from the Vandals and
Italy from the Goths, sent one of his best generals, Constantine (under
Belisarius), into Umbria to occupy the cities there. Constantine made
Perugia his headquarters and for a while his possession of the town
seems not to have been disputed by the Goths. Witigis left her on one
side as he passed with his armies down to Rome, and it remained for the
indomitable Totila to wrest her (in 545) from the power of the Byzantine
Empire. Totila is a most prominent figure in the history of the city,
and many are the myths which centre round him. He first attacked Assisi,
and having conquered her, he turned his greedy gaze upon the fair hill
city opposite and instantly desired to possess her also. But realising
the strength of her position, which was largely increased by the
occupation of a Byzantine general, he determined to get her by foul
means rather than fair, and so he bribed one of her citizens to murder
Cyprian, who was then the general in command. The citizens rose in eager
revolt against this treachery, and Totila soon found that he had
undertaken no light thing when he came to besiege the town. Indeed
tradition says that the said siege lasted seven years, and however much
this may have been exaggerated, it is certain that it was made a hard
one for the Goth. Perugia was taken by storm, but after fearful
fighting; she fell, but she was upheld to the last by a new power,
namely that of her faith. The story of S. Ercolano, the faithful Bishop
of the Perugians, is told in another place (see pp. 245-246). It has
been admirably illustrated by Bonfigli, it has been described and
hallowed in a hundred ways throughout the city's chronicles, and it is
vain for modern historians to tell us, as they are inclined to do, that
Totila never set foot in Perugia. Bonfigli's fresco is terribly
convincing in itself, as are also the naïve and delightful records of
Ciatti and Pellini. Among the people of the town Totila has become one
of its most important facts, and they declare that his wife lies buried
close to the Ponte Felcino together with her husband's hidden treasure.
[Illustration: LOMBARD ARCH ON THE CHURCH OF S. AGATA]
Gothic rule was short. Infinite and hurried changes follow on this
period. We next hear of the city in the hands of the Lombards. The
Lombard occupation is almost as dark as the Gothic.[5] In 592, Perugia
became a Lombard Duchy ruled by the Duke Mauritius, who turned traitor
to his trust and delivered the city to the Exarch of Ravenna. The news
of the Duke's treachery spread northward. Agilulf, King of the Lombards,
came hastening down to recapture the city with a mighty army, and he
made Mauritius pay for his treachery with his head. This was in 593. A
few years later Perugia was restored to the Empire, but at the beginning
of 700, she, like many other cities of Italy, attempted to shake herself
free from Byzantine rule. It is probable that she did not really succeed
in doing so, but this point is at any rate a great crisis in her
history, for it is the first time that we find her at all tangibly
connected with the Head of the Christian world--with that power of the
Church which was to prove, throughout her future, alternately her
safeguard and her scourge.
It was about 727 that Leo the Isaurian, Emperor of the East, terrified
by certain evils in his kingdom which he took to be signs of Divine
anger, made his famous decree against the worship of images. This proved
of course a most unpopular edict in Italy, and the reigning Pope opposed
it by every means in his power. Many of the most powerful cities joined
him, amongst them Perugia, and Greek rule in Italy, already on the wane,
was greatly weakened, but we do not hear of any settled breach with the
Empire for many years to come. Perugia was, as we shall see, merely
advancing towards her own liberation, but the acquired protection of the
Popes proved useful to her in her next great crisis.
In 749 Ratchis, King of the Lombards, laid siege to the city, and her
fall seemed inevitable. Then, in the moment of her great need, with the
Lombard army beating in her very doors, the reigning Pope, S. Zacharias
the Greek, accompanied by all his clergy, and by many of the Roman
nobles, arrived at her gates, and in words of extraordinary sweetness
pleaded her cause with Ratchis. We do not hear what phrases the old man
may have used to check a man on the verge of a great victory. We only
hear that the Lombard king knelt down and kissed the feet of the Pope.
"Thou hast conquered me," he said, very simply, and then he withdrew
from the battle, and S. Zacharias passed into the city, and was received
with universal joy by her citizens. And not only did Ratchis abandon the
siege of a town which he so greatly coveted, but, his whole soul being
moved by this new power, he renounced his kingdom and his crown and
retired to the monastery Monte Cassino, where he became a monk, living
there until he died.
Thus closes another chapter of Perugian history. Within a space of three
hundred years, roughly speaking, she had changed the nationality of her
rulers four successive times, whilst she herself may be said never to
have changed. Her internal history, her internal government, had all
along continued pretty much on the first lines. Her entire future policy
proves this. In all the small wars which follow, and which lead to her
final supremacy over every other city in Umbria--cities which at the
outset had been as strong as herself, and even stronger, we trace this
masterful and incontestable personality--the personality of the griffin
which the old Etruscan settlers captured thousands of years before upon
the hill-tops and chose for their city arms.
* * * * *
In all the intense complication of the times which follow it is almost
impossible to unravel the exact position of individual towns. At one
moment we find Perugia belonging apparently to the Duchy of Spoleto, at
another joined to the Tuscan League, at another putting herself under
the protection of the Pope, whilst all the time nominally belonging to
the Empire. Bonazzi remarks that one result of the perpetual conflict
between Emperor and Pope was the liberty left to the citizens; in
another place he says that in the scant documents which contain her
early history, "Perugia is always mentioned alone, always managing her
own affairs." The said management dated back in all probability to that
of the very earliest settlement, which was mainly agricultural, and
managed by chiefs or a Village Council. As the town grew, so likewise
did the numbers of its rulers. In Perugia, as in other places, the
original Village Council, which was first held in the public square, was
abandoned as politics grew complicated. The Consuls, ten in number, two
to each Porta or gate, met in council on the steps of the first
Cathedral. The finest architectural building in Perugia is notably the
Palazzo Pubblico, but long before the construction of this palace there
was another building which served the same purpose close to the Duomo in
which the different protectors of the city met. We do not propose to
trace the form of government here. Suffice it to say that, in Perugia as
elsewhere, we find the usual titles of _Consuli_ and _Podestà_, then of
the Heads of City Guilds, the _Priori_ (a very strong power in Perugia),
_Capitano del Popolo_ and _Capitano della Parte Guelfa_; all of whom
recur again and again in her chronicles, playing important parts as
peace-makers or as arbitrators in her turmoils and dissensions.
The historians of Perugia, naturally enough perhaps, tend to speak of
her as of an independent Republic, but this she never was. She had her
own rulers, she grew powerful and individual, she finally became a great
capital, but she was never a free state like Florence or Rome. Something
in her extraordinary position, something in the character of her people,
warlike and tenacious from the first, proved her final force. Great
wandering hordes and armies thought twice before they attacked her
walls. Thus she enjoyed long periods of ease, and in her stormy breast
she nurtured the ferocious families which were to prove her strength,
but equally her bane in later years.
Being utterly cut off from mercantile expansion or commerce of an
ordinary sort, she used her concentrated force in subduing neighbouring
towns, and thus extending her dominion over Umbria. Her power soon
became recognised, and many little towns and hamlets sent envoys to
present acts of submission to the growing power. When these were given
freely she received them graciously, and when withheld she sometimes
showed a power of rapacity and cruelty which is well nigh inconceivable.
Her history is full of wars against Siena, Gubbio, Arezzo, Città di
Castello, Todi, Foligno, Spoleto and Assisi, all chronicled at great
length by her proud historians. We have collected a few scattered facts
relating to these, which cast some light upon the character of the
Perugians, who, as their power strengthened, began to show, not only a
tyrannous disposition, but an occasional spark of the grimmest humour.
Leaving aside other events, such as the encroaching power of the Pope,
we may now glance at some of these.
The first act of voluntary submission came from the island of Polvese in
1130, and was received with great solemnity in the Piazza di San Lorenzo
and in the presence of all the inhabitants of the city. A little later
more than nine hundred of the people of Castiglione del Lago came to
place their land on the shores of Trasimene under the protection of
Perugia. Città di Castello and Gubbio followed suit, and many of the
smaller towns and hamlets. But, if submission was sweet, blows, one
surmises, were well nigh sweeter to the fierce and savage owners of
Perugia, and horrid were the skirmishes--one can scarcely call them
battles--which ensued from time to time when towns resisted or rebelled
against them.
Assisi and Perugia were ever an eyesore to one another, and their
inhabitants scoured the plain between them like packs of wolves. In one
of these savage little contests tradition tells us that a certain
Giovanni di Bernadone, a youth of only twenty summers, was taken
prisoner by the Perugians and kept a year in the Campo di Battaglia. The
Palace of the Capitano del Popolo in the Piazza Sopramuro now covers the
place where the youth was chained, and we may look on it with
veneration, for he was no other than that sweetest soul of mediæval
history, St Francis of Assisi.
When Città della Pieve dared to rebel, the action of Perugia was prompt
and effective. "Most gladly did the youth of Perugia--hot with the
dignity of their city, and by no means disposed to forgive those who
despised or disobeyed her--assemble in arms," says Bartoli. The army
thus assembled was instantly sent to the recalcitrant city, but the
Pievese had scarcely caught sight of it hurrying towards their gates,
than they sent their _Procuratore_, Peppone d'Alvato, to sue for peace
and beg forgiveness for their misdeeds. This was kindly granted, but
Peppone, accompanied by some hundred and thirty Pievese, was forced to
come to Ripa di Grotto and there listen to the reproaches of the
_Podestà_ of Perugia, whilst the Bishops of Perugia and of Chiusi, the
Provost of S. Mustiola, and the _Arciprete_ of Perugia, sitting on high
chairs, surrounded by various grandees, were in readiness to enjoy the
spectacle. All were dressed in their finest, but we are told that the
_Arciprete_ of Corciano threw all his neighbours entirely into the shade
by the splendour and the brilliancy of his many-coloured garments.[6]
Peppone kneeling at the Bishop's feet with his hand on the gospels,
swore faith and loyalty to the Perugians, and we hear that the Pievese
returned home "rejoicing" at the pardon obtained in this most
humiliating fashion. This last fact we may take the liberty to doubt,
but it is certain that the Perugians enjoyed the whole episode
immensely, neither did they consider the humiliation of their enemies
complete. A further punishment had yet to be thought of, and at last a
brilliant plan was resolved on. The Piazza of San Lorenzo needed paving,
and the Pievese were told that they must provide all the necessary
bricks for this purpose, and this "puerile waspishness," as Bonazzi
describes it, so delighted the hearts of the Perugians that, as we
learn, not even the death of the great foe of the Guelph cause,
Frederick II., "was able to give them a keener sense of joy."
Perugia and Foligno had always regarded each other with undisguised
dislike, skirmishing about and exchanging insults wherever they happened
to meet. Once the people of Foligno had come bare-footed, and with a
sword and knife hung round their necks, to implore pardon of Perugia,
but they revolted again, and the Perugians continued to attack and to
molest them. Three times in a single year (1282) their lands were
devastated, and finally the town was taken, and the walls demolished,
and imperative orders were issued absolutely forbidding these to be
rebuilt on the western side. At last Pope Martin IV., amazed and
disgusted by the behaviour of a people to whom he was honestly attached,
interfered, but Perugia continued to molest her unhappy neighbour with a
quite peculiar animosity, whereupon the Pope, angered beyond measure by
their disobedience, excommunicated them. "Into such a passion did the
Pope fall with the people of Perugia," says Mariotti, "that he issued a
most severe excommunication against them." It was just at the time of
the Sicilian Vespers. The Perugians, irritated by their sentence of
excommunication, determined to celebrate a kind of mock vespers on their
own account. Gregorovius says that this is the first instance recorded
in history of this strange form of popular demonstration. "They made a
Pope and Cardinals of straw, and dragged them ignominiously through the
city and up to a hill, where they burned the effigies in crimson robes,
saying, as the flames leapt up, "That is such-and-such, a Cardinal; and
this is such-and-such, another."
A strange scene, truly, in a half-civilised city! But political and
religious causes came between and put an end to these half childish
squabbles. A little later the Pope forgave the Perugians, and they
continued their evil ways, and persisted in destroying the peace of the
Umbrian towns.
Arezzo had the satisfaction of a victory over Perugia in 1335, and in
defiance and derision she hanged her Perugian prisoners with a tabby cat
hung beside them, and a string of _lasche_ dangling from their
braces.[7] But pranks like these were not allowed to pass unnoticed, and
Perugia did not fail to grasp her finest banner with the lion of the
Guelph all rampant on a field of gules, and hurry out to subdue her
insolent neighbours. The people of Arezzo were humbled to the dust, but
by means too barbaric to be here described.
* * * * *
Thus one by one the cities of Umbria became sufficiently impressed by
this forcible fashion of dealing with insurrection, and they recognised
that it would be wise, though it might not be pleasant, to swear
allegiance to the imperious city. Gualdo next gave up her keys, together
with Nocera, but the latter found it impossible to suppress a few oaths
whilst signing the documents, and there was a loud wail over the laws
imposed upon them.
" ... e diretro le piange
Per grave giogo Nocera con Gualdo,"
says Dante, referring to the subject in the "Paradiso."
* * * * *
Perugia's culminating success seems to have been at Torrita in 1358,
when the Sienese were defeated, and forty-nine banners brought back tied
to the horses' tails, and the chains of the Palace of Justice torn away
and hung in triumph at the feet of the Perugian griffin. Even the
powerful Florence accepted Perugia's help in the Guelph cause, and so
early as 1230 arbitrations had been exchanged for the purpose of
settling all questions of commerce between the two cities.[8]
All these victories, these repeated successes, tended
[Illustration: PALAZZO BALDESCHI]
to increase Perugia's independence of spirit, and she was very careful
that no one, not even the Pope, should infringe on her rights, or
dispute her authority. Her attitude towards the Church is somewhat
difficult to understand. It seems to have mystified Clement IV., for he
expresses his "dolorous wonder" that the Perugians, who were such
devoted allies of the Holy See, could sometimes behave so wickedly
towards the clergy. And, curiously enough, the Perugians, lovers of
processions, of patron-saints, miracles, and all the rest, could, and
did, make laws to exclude all ecclesiastics from having anything to do
with their charitable institutions or donations to Churches.[9]
We find them protesting both with menaces and oaths against any
usurpation of the clergy, "In the names of Christ, the Virgin, S.
Ercolano, and S. Costanzo." Even the Pope was taught a lesson, for when
John XXI. in 1277 asked for some _lasche_ from the Lake of Trasimene,
the Perugians called a general council in which it was resolved that the
said _lasche_ should be sent to His Holiness, but accompanied by the
syndicate in order to show the Pope that the fish was the property of
the city, and a gift from its citizens merely _given_ to him for his
Good Friday dinner!
These somewhat petty hostilities did not, however, materially affect the
relations between the Papacy and the citizens of Perugia, and all
through the twelfth and thirteenth centuries they remained on very
friendly terms with one another.
* * * * *
We have thought it best to give a general sketch of the growth of the
city, its customs and its wars, before touching on one of the chief
characteristics of its history, namely, its close connection with the
Papacy. It will, therefore, be necessary to glance back over some
centuries, in order to follow the steps by which the power of the Popes
arose in Perugia.
At first Papal authority was purely nominal. To the small towns of
Italy, living each their concentrated and oftentimes tempestuous lives
apart, the great Emperors who passed down to Rome in search of crowns
from the hands of Popes, must have appeared as ghosts, their documents
as unsubstantial as themselves. The fact that one of these, Pepin,
conceded large grants of land in Umbria, including Perugia, to a Pope
who never came to look at them, must have seemed to the Perugians as
little beyond a phantom transaction after all. We next hear of
Charlemagne in 800 confirming an act by which Perugia, together with a
number of other towns and territories, was placed under the _alto
dominio_ of the Holy See. In 962, Otto I. again confirmed the donation,
but the iron hand of Papal power was not felt for many centuries in the
rising town; and indeed, however deep the designs of the Church may have
been from the very beginning, they were well concealed, and the first
Popes who visited Perugia did so in the fashion of people starting on a
summer excursion, and not at all in the character of conquerors. They
would come to the city with all their suite of Cardinals and favourites,
and take up their abode in the cool and spacious rooms of the Canonica,
which, as Bonazzi with imperial pride declares, "became the Vatican of
Perugia."
Yet it is certain that the policy of the Holy See was deep, and that the
growing capital of Umbria appeared no plaything in its eyes. The
geographical position of the city--perched as it is on a hill which
commands the Tiber and overlooks the two great highways from the Eternal
City to the North and to the Eastern Sea--made it a most desirable
possession for the Popes, and it was inevitable that Perugia should,
sooner or later, submit to, or come into direct conflict with, the power
of Papal rule. The open acknowledgment of such a situation was merely a
question of time.
Innocent III., who has been called the founder of the States of the
Church, was the first Pope who came into direct personal contact with
the Perugians. He accepted from them an offer to be their _Padrone_, and
to exercise temporal power among them. Half playfully, though with what
deep and powerful designs we may divine, he called the citizens his
"vassals," and to a certain extent they were willing to submit to his
authority; but in so doing they were careful to wring from their
"_Padrone_" a promise that their rights and privileges should be
respected. Thus for the time they steered clear of the danger of
subjection, continued to govern themselves, and preserved that free and
independent spirit which hitherto, and in spite of every obstacle, had
marked them as a race. Innocent was beloved by the citizens. He came
amongst them at a time of much civil discord, when the nobles and the
people were preparing for open strife. "He was a peace-maker," says
Bartoli, "and he kept his eye on all things; and on this city he looked
with a peculiar partiality." The Pope was anxious to promote the
Crusades, and was on his way to Pisa to try to make a peace between the
Genoese and the Venetians, whose quarrels interfered with his schemes,
when he fell ill at Perugia, and died there in 1216.[10]
No sooner had he breathed his last than all his Cardinals hurried into
the Canonica to elect his successor, and such was the impatience of the
citizens that they even set a guard over these princes of the Church,
and kept them short of food in order to hurry their decision. We are not
therefore surprised to read that the Papal Throne remained vacant for
the space of one day only, and that in consequence of this event the
Perugians claim the privilege of having invented the Conclave.
Honorius III. succeeded Innocent, and he attempted, but without success,
to heal the ever-widening breach between the nobles and the people. We
have described something of the wars outside, but Perugia herself
within her walls was a veritable wasp's nest during this period of her
steady rise. Her inhabitants became more restless and unmanageable every
year. In their perpetual broils the nobles fought beneath their emblem
of the Falcon, and the _popolo minuto_ (common folk), who sided with
them, received the unamiable title of _Beccherini_.[11] The two extremes
in the social scale joined hands in a perpetual opposition to the
_popolo grasso_ (well-to-do burghers), who were called _Raspanti_
(_raspare_, to claw), a name probably suggested by their emblem of the
Cat.
Honorius in his plan of dealing with the complicated situation can
scarcely be described as disinterested; whilst apparently patching up
peace, he really attempted to force an acknowledgment of papal power.
His policy however, was fruitless, and the nobles resorted to the usual
expedient of retiring to their country castles, for, as Bonazzi says,
they "preferred to tyrannise alone in the silence of their isolated
strongholds rather than to divide their forces in the capital of a
powerful federation." But the situation threatened to become
intolerable, and we read that through the years from 1223 to 1228 a
"perfect pandemonium reigned in and about the city." Cardinal Colonna
was sent to try and restore the balance between the rival factions, but,
finally, Gregory IX. was forced to come in person, and through his
influence the banished nobles were recalled from exile, and a certain
degree of peace restored.
Gregory paid many visits to Perugia, much to the annoyance of the
Romans, who expressed their wonder that the little hill-town with
nothing but its brown walls, towers, and landscape to recommend it,
should be preferred by him to the plains and palaces of the Eternal
City. This fact is recorded about the year 1228, when Gregory IX. was
making an unusually long stay in his excellent and quiet quarters in the
Canonica (at S. Lorenzo). The Romans were well aware, Bartoli says, that
it was because of their ill-behaviour that he had retired into private
life far away in the Umbrian city, and they even accepted as a judgment
on their evil ways a certain most horrible inundation of the Tiber which
befell them at that period. Deputies hurried across the land from Rome
with supplications to the Pope to return to his people, and Gregory
went, but he quickly returned to Perugia. The fame of S. Francis of
Assisi was then at its height. Gregory felt inquisitive, but not
altogether certain of the truth of the tales which were spread abroad
concerning this wonderful man. He made numerous enquiries and sent his
Cardinals to Assisi to gather all the information they were able to
collect about the Saint. But the final manner of the doubting Pope's
conversion is described with such marvellous and touching piety in the
"Fioretti" that we have inserted it at length in our description of the
place where it occurred.[12] In the same year and place Gregory
canonized S. Francis, "to the splendour of religion," says one
historian. He also canonized S. Dominic and Queen Elizabeth of Hungary,
he sent missions into the land of the unfaithful, and gave indulgences
of a year and forty days to all who would give money to the building of
S. Domenico. So we may fairly say that he did not waste his time, but
that he managed to get through a large amount of business during the
time that he spent in Perugia.
* * * * *
It is difficult to define the exact mutual relations of Pope and city
in any corner of Italy, but it is certain that Perugia found Papal power
useful to her in many ways, and that on whatever side she happened to
have a quarrel on hand, she always turned to the Papal See for help and
arbitration. In spirit she was always Guelph, fighting under the emblem
of the Guelph lion, and full of Guelph interests. Yet, although openly
exercising self-government, almost in the manner of a free republic,
under the protection and nominal rule of the popes, she was at the same
time patronised by the emperors. In 1355 we read that her ancient
privileges were confirmed and new ones granted by the Emperor Charles
IV., who seems to have considered it worth his while to gain the
friendship of her citizens.
Up to this period we have only had to deal with pleasant passing visits
of the popes who sojourned in the city for a while. The time came,
however, when the noose which Innocent had so lightly cast about their
necks began to pull and tighten. The Perugians revolted hotly against
the Popes of Avignon, who, incensed at their rebellion, attempted to
check it by every means in their power. To understand the painful
struggles which follow, it is necessary to remember that the end of the
fourteenth and the whole of the fifteenth centuries were the most
prosperous period in Perugia's history. She had grown steadily and
uninterruptedly both in power and riches, and in spite of terrible
obstacles, ever since the day when the Romans rebuilt her walls more
than fifteen hundred years before. In these two centuries she erected
her public buildings, extended and settled her government, coined money,
started her university, settled with her habitual promptitude all
suspicion of rebellion, became one of the _Tre Communi_ of Florence,
Siena and Perugia, and whilst achieving all these things she continued
to foster the passionate feuds and hopeless enmities between the
different factions which we have described above. Having grown strong
and prosperous it was natural that she should resent any open attempt of
a foreign power to subject her, and such an attempt came in the middle
of the fourteenth century from the Papal See.
In 1367 the Spanish Cardinal Albornoz was busily employed in recovering
the States of the Church. Perugia was at that time faithful to the Pope,
and she received the Cardinal with due honours and gave him valuable
help, especially in an expedition against Galeotto Malatesta of Rimini.
Her goodwill however was of short duration, for the citizens saw
themselves despoiled of Città di Castello and of Assisi during the
Cardinal's campaigns, and this they would not brook. They therefore sent
a strong army at once towards Viterbo, but it was beaten back with heavy
loss, and Urban V.'s authority was again firmly rooted at Perugia. He
sent his brother, Cardinal Angelico, Bishop of Albano, as Vicar General
to represent him in the city. Thus the authority of the popes crept in
upon the town, and authority of some kind became every year more
necessary as the voice of the people grew and strengthened and as the
exiled nobles quarrelled outside the walls. Papal authority was finally
represented in 1375 by an imperious French abbot, known in Perugian
annals as Mommaggiore, whose doings and buildings have been described in
another place. (See pp. 184-186.) The yoke that Mommaggiore--"that
French Vandal, that most iniquitous Nero," as the chroniclers call
him,--put upon the neck of Perugia, proved unbearable to every party,
and all the different factions for once joined together to break it.
Florence and other cities, castles, and fortresses which had "unfurled
the banner of liberty," joined in the revolt, and in 1375 the abbot was
driven in a very undignified fashion from the city. A republic was then
declared and the whole town rejoiced at having broken away from the
thraldom of the Popes of Avignon. In vain did Gregory XI. call the
people of Perugia "sons of iniquity"; in vain did he hurl the most
terrible excommunications against them;[13] the feud between the city
and the Pope was only laid to rest when the latter died. It had lasted
long, and had produced something worse even than the struggle of two
strong powers, for it had served to increase the terrible civil discord
within the town. With the accession of Urban VI. a treaty was concluded,
and Perugia acknowledged his right of dominion. In 1387 Urban arrived in
the city, and as he entered the gates a white dove rested on his hat and
refused to be removed by the servants who ran forward to deliver His
Holiness from the unexpected visitor. It answered the Pope's touch
however, and was handed to his chaplain, and everyone accepted the event
as an excellent omen. We will not linger to judge of its excellence, we
can only say that the bird heralded an entirely new chapter in the
history of the town, which hitherto had developed under general
influences and many different hands. Her coming history is that of
single influences, of personalities, or, in other words, of despots. The
time had come when Perugia was to show the fruit of her stern ambitious
character in the individual men whom she had reared. The names of
Michelotti, Braccio Fortebraccio, Piccinino and of the noble families of
Oddi and of Baglioni are familiar to all who have merely turned the
pages of her history. Perugia, like other towns of Italy, had at the end
of the fourteenth century reached a point of internal strife from which
strong personalities could easily rise up to dispute or to control the
existing government. Why it was exactly that the Popes did not from the
first forcibly interfere with the turbulent doings of these men, it is
difficult to tell. They were constantly coming to the city, constantly
appealed to by the citizens and nobles, for ever interfering both by
menaces and arms, but it was not till more than a century of blood and
tyranny had passed, not till the glory of the town was already on the
wane, that the power of the Church came down to crush Perugia like a
sledge-hammer.
Strangely enough it was a Pope who first gave the city away into the
hands of a private person or Protector.
[Illustration: ARMS OF PERUGIA]
CHAPTER II
_The Condottieri and the Rise of the Nobles_
"The confusion, exhaustion, and demoralisation engendered by these
conflicts determined the advent of Despots.... The Despot delivered
the industrial classes from the tyranny and anarchy of faction,
substituting a reign of personal terrorism that weighed more
heavily upon the nobles than upon the artizans and peasants.... He
accumulated in his despotic individuality the privileges previously
acquired by centuries of consuls, _podestàs_, and captains of the
people."--See "Age of the Despots," J. A. SYMONDS.
Deep gloom closed in upon Perugia towards the end of the fourteenth
century. The breach between the nobles and the people continued to
widen. Sometimes one party was driven out of the city, sometimes
another. Now and again both parties were recalled, and a compact of
peace arranged by an arbitrary person from outside. But this last
arrangement produced an even more terrible state of affairs, and crime
and bloodshed were the inevitable result. We read of deaths by hundreds
and not tens--cruel and indescribable deaths, which make one
shudder--and already in the thick of the strife the names of Oddi and of
Baglioni are stamped upon the records.
One of the strangest points in the history of the city at this time was
the fashion in which these feuds between the rival factions were met by
them. Whichever party was weakest retired for the time to the country,
leaving the city to their rival till time should favour their own
cause.[14]
Bonazzi gives an almost extravagant account of the boorish manner of the
exiled nobles' lives. Down in the open country they hunted the abundant
wild boar and devoured his flesh when they came home at night. They
slept in dark and cavernous halls, and were out at dawn across the
fields and forests, killing, hunting, fighting, according to the order
of the day. Yet, although they were banished from the walls of their
native town, they continued to molest and to disturb the citizens, and
whenever the opportunity occurred, in they came again, sometimes openly,
sometimes after the manner of thieves. We read of their entering the
city at night across the roofs, robbing the cellars and granaries, and
murdering such citizens as ventured to interfere.
Sometimes the order was reversed: the nobles got possession of the town,
and the people were forced into the country. The terrible unrest of such
a state of things may easily be imagined, and, added to these great
evils, or, probably, produced by them, came the devastating plagues
which ravaged the cities of Italy at the end of the fourteenth century,
and the almost equal scourge of mercenary soldiers and private bands of
foreign adventurers, who roamed through the rich, ill-governed towns and
villages fighting for one family or another, or else engaged in
pillaging upon their own account.[15]
In all these quarrels, in all this turmoil and confusion, whichever
party happened to be uppermost, the person to appeal to was the Pope,
and endless were the messages sent down from Rome. At last, in 1392,
both sides seemed to have wearied for the moment of the incessant strife
(the nobles at this time were masters of the city, the _Raspanti_ were
away in exile), and when the Pope, Boniface IX., appeared in person, he
was received with enthusiasm. We hear that the _Priori_ and the
treasurers of the city robed themselves in beautiful new scarlet
mantles, the "companies" of the different gates danced through the
streets with unmitigated joy, and the people went forth in crowds to
meet him. But the breach between the factions was too wide, the
situation too complicated for a Pope, who arrived merely in the
character of a peacemaker, to grapple with successfully. The presence of
Boniface brought no peace, and he retired into the monastery of S.
Pietro, which he hastily converted into a fortress, demolishing its
tower in his eagerness to secure his own personal safety; and there, as
he nervously wondered what next he had better do, he heard the cries of
"Down with the _Raspanti_!" answered by "Death to the nobles!" borne in
upon the breeze.
Finally, in a manner peculiar to the Perugians, they met together in
council to dictate the action of the person they had called in to act
for them, and it was settled that the Pope should have full power as
arbitrator of peace between themselves and the _Raspanti_. The Pope did
exactly as he was asked. He recalled the _Raspanti_, and they entered
the city on the 17th October 1393, not merely as a body, but headed by
a powerful personality--Biordo Michelotti, one of Perugia's greatest
citizens, and the first of the _condottieri_ who ever got rule in the
city.
Exiled in early youth from his native town, Biordo Michelotti had chosen
the career of a _condottiere_, and roamed through the length and breadth
of Italy, fighting the battles of different princes. Some say he had
fought for the French king against the English. He was essentially a
captain of adventure. His manner was kindly, he was brave, honest,
frank, and popular among the people wherever he happened to go. Beloved
all over Umbria, many of the towns which directly opposed Perugia's
tyrannical rule had submitted to that of Biordo. All these successes did
not, however, satisfy the man in him, for the ruling ambition of his
life was to get the dominion over his native city, and events were now
combining to procure for him his heart's desire. The _Raspanti_ rallied
round him in their exile, and he became their leader, and the champion
of their liberty. The nobles, seeing the power of his popularity,
offered him bribes to keep out of their way. But Biordo lay low in his
fortress at Deruta, and when the Pope's offers of peace arrived he
hailed them with delight. A month later he entered Perugia at the head
of about 2000 _Raspanti_, who had been exiled from their homes for
years. They at once visited the Pope in token of homage and gratitude,
and their new lease of power within the city was opened by the
re-election of the priors, who were chosen half from the burgher faction
and half from the nobility. By this means it was hoped that a lasting
reconciliation might be made and an evenly balanced government
established. Yet such seemed impossible. Peace endured for the space of
one short month, and at the very first opportunity--on the occasion of
Biordo's absence from the city--the smouldering fires of party feuds
burst out in flames as rampant as before. One of the _Raspanti_ was
murdered by the nobles, and, just as the _Podestà_ was preparing to pass
sentence on the assassin, Pandolfo dei Baglioni, "that Perugian Satan,"
as Bonazzi calls him, interfered on behalf of the criminal.[16]
Whereupon the _Raspanti_ vowed vengeance, assassinated Pandolfo and
Pellini Baglioni on their own threshold, and murdered sixty of their
clan. The Ranieri, another noble family, with their friends, took refuge
in the strong Ranieri tower, where they were forced to go without food
for three days. At last the people dragged them before the _Podestà_,
but as he refused to execute them, the unhappy noblemen were conveyed
back to their tower, where they were finally butchered, and their bodies
thrown out of the windows.
Horrified by these fresh atrocities, and again in search of peace, the
Pope loaded his mules and retired with his Cardinals to Assisi. The
tumults were just subsiding when Biordo Michelotti returned, and this
time he took absolute possession of the city. He met with no sort of
opposition. The ring-leader of the nobles, Pandolfo Baglioni, was dead,
and the Pope for the minute encouraged the attempt towards peace. Biordo
used his power well, and every year his fame and honours increased. To
the delight of the Perugians, he succeeded to the command of Sir John
Hawkwood over the Florentine forces, and everywhere he pushed the
interests of the town, wisely concluding a treaty with Gian Galeazzo
Visconti, the powerful lord of Milan (1395).
The Pope, in the meantime, began to regret the encouragement he had
given to this very popular hero. His jealousy was roused, and he hired
a _condottiere_ for a month, in order to fight the Perugians. The
hostilities, however, ended with the month, and nothing was accomplished
beyond a demonstration of the Pontiff's jealousy. But there was someone
else beside the Pope who witnessed the honours paid to Biordo with a
jealous hatred, and this was the Abbot of S. Pietro. "The wicked Abbot,"
as the people called him, belonged to the noble family of the
Guidalotti, and he probably felt that the power of his family was too
much overshadowed by Michelotti. He had fresh cause to murmur,
therefore, when Biordo married Bertolda Orsini of Rome, and the Lords of
Urbino, Camerino, San Severo, Gubbio, and other towns came up to offer
the happy pair rich presents, and to wish the bride-groom well. Biordo's
marriage was a splendid pageant. The city decked herself magnificently
to do him honour, and all the people of the country round sent offerings
of grain, and wine, and eggs, and cheese, everything which their small
farms produced, to show their leader how they loved him.
The Abbot sat at his window, and with no kindly eye he watched the entry
of the young bride, close by the monastery walls. Madonna Contessa
Orsini came in escorted by the Florentine and Venetian ambassadors. Her
dress was made of cloth of gold, she wore a garland of wild asparagus
around her head, and jewels sparkled in her hair. The Abbot noted all
these things, he saw the women of Perugia running out to meet her, he
saw them throw flowers in her path, and then he returned to his cell to
brood upon his horrid plans of vengeance. For he had determined to place
the town once more beneath the sway of the Church, and in this way to
gain for himself a Cardinal's hat, as it was probably the Pope himself
who urged him to the deed.
[Illustration: VIA DELLE STALLE]
On Sunday, in the month of March 1398, while the citizens were attending
a sermon at S. Lorenzo, the Abbot arrived on horseback at the Guidalotti
palace on Colle Landone, to collect his fellow-conspirators, and some
twenty of them proceeded to Biordo's house on Porta Sole. Word was sent
up to Michelotti that there was important news for him, and he,
suspecting nothing, hurried down to meet the Abbot with a courteous
greeting. The Abbot stepped forward, took his hand, and kissed Biordo,
at which sign the rest of the conspirators fell upon their victim and
stabbed him with their poisoned daggers, hitting him such grievous blows
that soon he lay weltering in a pool of blood. The conspirators had
first intended openly to announce the deed in the piazza, but their
courage failed them and the Abbot merely muttered the news to the
passers-by as he slunk away to S. Pietro with a few companions. Two of
the braver of the assassins, however, stayed behind and, coming into the
piazza, cried: "We have slain the tyrant." The citizens, who were at
mass, rose with one accord from their devotions, to avenge the death of
their beloved leader, and leaving the preacher to continue his sermon to
an empty church, they hurried to arms. The Abbot meanwhile hastened from
his monastery at S. Pietro to a still safer refuge at Casalina. As he
fled he looked back upon the city whose hero he had murdered, and he saw
the flames and smoke break out from the palace of those same Guidalotti
he had hoped to benefit, whilst the news of the death of his old father
and many of his family in the carnage of that day was brought to him as
a sorry consolation for his crime.
Biordo's blood was gathered together by the citizens and put into a
little silver basin, and above it they placed the banner of Perugia with
the white griffin upon a crimson field; and as one chronicler informs
us, a heart of stone must have melted at the sight of it.
Thus perished the first of that extraordinary series of men who took
upon themselves the terrible task of governing single-handed the city of
Perugia. Nearly all died by violence, but the violence done to Biordo
was a cruel wrong. A short interval follows, and then the greatest name,
perhaps, of all the city's chronicles comes up upon the scene, namely,
that of Braccio Fortebraccio di Montone.
* * * * *
The Perugians suspected the ungracious part that the Pope had played in
the murder of their leader, and the suspicion made them restless and
dissatisfied. It was probably owing to this that they fell a prey to the
cunning wiles of the Duke of Milan.
Gian Galeazzo had ingratiated himself with the citizens some time
previously by giving them grain during a time of famine, and he now came
forward to reap the benefit of his charity by getting himself accepted
as Lord of Perugia, which would facilitate his designs on Tuscany.
Perugia's connection with Milan, however, only lasted four years. On
Gian Galeazzo's death, in 1402, the Duchess of Milan made peace with
Boniface IX., and restored Bologna, Perugia, and Assisi to the Church.
The Perugians submitted to the Pope (they seem not to have been
consulted in the matter of the donation), but with the strict
understanding that the exiled nobles should keep at least twenty miles
distant from the city. Boniface agreed to this arrangement. Other popes
before him had tried to patch up peace between the parties, but he had
not the courage to attempt such difficult experiments. It remained for
Braccio Fortebraccio to tear through the tangled network of Perugian
politics, to unite within himself the powers of both parties, and as the
city's despot to raise it to "unprecedented glory."
Braccio Fortebraccio was born at Montone in 1368. He was the son of Oddo
Fortebraccio, Lord of Montone, and of Jacoma Montemelini, his wife, of a
noble Perugian family. During his youth the _Raspanti_ were dominant in
the city, and the boy grew up as an exile. He had only his sword and an
immense ambition with which to force his way to future power. It was at
that time the fashion for young noblemen to win fame for themselves by
the life or trade of the _condottieri_. Braccio therefore joined the
famous Italian company of S. George, led by Alberigo di Barbiano, whose
advent crushed the foreign captains of adventure whose lawless
mercenaries had sent terror throughout the rich plains and villages of
Italy during the fourteenth century.
In the tents of Alberigo, Braccio di Montone and Sforza Attendolo[17]
learned together the science of warfare. Thence they two went forth to
fight the battles of princes, kings, and popes; to create two separate
methods of combat, and to fill all Italy with tales of their great
valour and their rivalry. Braccio's ambition grew with his success, and
he soon aspired to acquiring the whole of Italy. His first step towards
this very large design was the capture of his native city of Perugia.
But as he represented the party of the nobles, the _Raspanti_ manfully
resisted any efforts he made to approach them. "It is better even to
submit to foreign rule than to make peace with the nobles," they said;
and thus it came about that they gave themselves over to Ladislaus, King
of Naples, and remained for some six years in connection with the
kingdom of Naples. When Ladislaus died in 1414, the Perugians were
seized with terror, but the nobles saw their opportunity, and all things
seemed to favour the scheme of Fortebraccio.
Braccio had joined the service of Pope John XXIII., and by him had been
made governor of Bologna; but when the Pope was deposed by the Council
of Constance, Braccio's allegiance ended, and he at once sold the
Bolognese their liberty, and with the 82,000 florins which he gained by
this transaction he collected a strong army, the exiled nobles flocked
to his standard, and they marched at once upon Perugia.
At the news of Braccio's approach terror and consternation spread
through the city. The gateways were built up, and the magistrates
forbade anyone to leave the town. But the Perugians, "being the most
warlike of the people of Italy," as Sismondi says, could not resist so
grand a chance of fighting, and seeing Braccio's men clustering around
the city's walls, they jumped down from the ramparts into their midst,
and took the soldiers unawares by the suddenness of their attack. This
was no real battle, but tumults of the sort were the order of the day.
In the dead of night men would rush in panic into the piazza, not
knowing what had brought them there, and only conscious of one fact:
their desire to make a fierce stand for their liberty. Braccio made a
fruitless effort to penetrate into the heart of the city, and was driven
back ignominiously. The women threw down stones and boiling water on the
assailants, whilst they goaded their own men to fight, crying aloud,
"Now is your time to wound the enemy,--at him with your swords your
teeth and nails!"
At last the Perugians called in the help of Carlo Malatesta, Lord of
Rimini, and on the 15th of July 1416, the two armies met between the
Tiber and Sant' Egideo on the road to Assisi. The greatest generals of
Italy and her best soldiers, says Sismondi, took part in the fierce
fighting of that day. The parties closed in deadly conflict; for seven
hours they fought beneath the burning sun, and the heat was increased by
the dense dust that filled the air. "Most dolorous were the sighs which
were heard to issue from the helmets," says Fabretti. Braccio was a wise
general. He had carefully prepared beforehand countless jars of water
for the refreshment of his men and horses after each skirmish, and this
in the end was the cause of his victory. The Tiber was flowing five
hundred paces from Malatesta's soldiers, and they finally could bear the
terrible thirst no longer but hurried down to drink. Braccio seized upon
this moment in which to swoop upon the enemy with all his force. The day
was won. Carlo Malatesta and his young nephew Galeazzo Malatesta, were
taken prisoners, and it "was strange to note that the humblest of
Braccio's soldiers were driving prisoners before them like a herd of
cattle."[18]
* * * * *
When the Perugians heard of the defeat they immediately sent ambassadors
to offer the government of their city to Braccio. They seem after all
their previous fighting, to have at once submitted to their fate, which
as it turned out, was an excellent piece of good fortune for them. They
made preparations to welcome their new despot in a manner worthy of the
man. Fine carpets, brocades, and long gold chains, were hung from the
palace windows, flowers lay thick upon the pavement from S. Pietro to S.
Lorenzo, whilst elegant gold and silver vases were placed in the windows
of the Palazzo Pubblico. "Evviva Braccio, Signore di Perugia," they
shouted as he entered, and thus the die was cast.
Anxious to conciliate both parties in the city, Braccio assumed the
attitude of Father of his Country and succeeded in inspiring the people
with an unusual sense of admiration. Master of all Umbria and Prince of
Capua, many towns acknowledged his dominion, and even Rome was forced to
accept him at one period as her lord. It is, therefore, scarcely to be
wondered at that Perugians have never ceased to lament that Braccio died
before accomplishing his vast designs for conquering all Italy, for they
feel that they only just missed the chance of rivalling the glory of
imperial Rome.
There are infinite records concerning the personality of this
extraordinary man.
"He was of medium stature," says Campano, "with a long face and
highly coloured, which imparted great majesty to his appearance.
His eyes were not black, but very brilliant; they sparkled with
fun, yet with a certain gravity. His figure was partly deformed and
scarred by wounds. Whether grave or gay he was always high bred, so
that his very enemies confessed that among any number of persons he
would always be recognised as leader and chief."
In the following lines Campano sums up his character:--
"Braccio was grave and kindly of speech, without artifice or
trickery, a gift of nature rather than acquired, though improved by
some study. None could soothe an angry person with more grace than
Braccio, none could exhort and inflame his followers with more
vehemence and ardour to the combat. He was beloved by his soldiers,
being neither haughty nor rough spoken, and he united military
severity with a certain civil modesty and a courtier-like manner."
One of the most delightful traits of Braccio's character was an intense
hatred of idleness, and city-loafers he nicknamed "_I consumatori della
piazza_" (wearers out of the pavement of the public square). He
encouraged the Perugians to play as well as fight, and it was he who
revived the ancient game of the "Battle of the Stones." His soldiers
would often join in the sport, and great was the joy of the citizens
when the latter were vanquished. Braccio himself was not allowed to
play; he would watch the game from an upper window, and much as he often
desired to join, his companions prevented him, for it seldom happened
that less than twelve men lay killed or wounded at the end of the day.
This extraordinary and barbarous game deserves an account in any history
of Perugia. It dates back to Roman times, and the credit of playing the
"fiercest game in Italy" belonged to Perugia alone, and was believed to
be the reason why her people were "of such commanding mould both in
spirit and in body." Even the children joined during the first two
hours, so as to make them strong and warlike from their infancy.
On the Sundays and feast-days of March, April, and May, and into the
middle of June, the citizens met in the Campo di Battaglia, on the road
to Monte Luce, and there formed themselves into two parties, one
remaining on the level of the square, the other just below. Till
nightfall each party fought to drive the other off the ground, and
whichever side managed to gain the middle of the square, carried off the
palm of victory. This wonderful "game" must have looked like a miniature
battle of a somewhat prehistoric kind; for the combatants were all
swathed about the neck, their legs encased in thick leather stockings,
stuffed with deer's hair and protected by greaves; thickly padded round
the body under their cuirasses, their feet in shoes of linen cloth
wrapped three times round and stuffed again with the hair of deer. The
warlike youths and men wore on the top of everything else a helmet which
projected forward in the shape of a sparrow-hawk's head, and thus
protected, they were able to watch the stones flying about their heads
without being blinded. They were called the "_Armati_," and were led to
combat by "Hurlers" (_lanciatori_), who wore a lighter apparel, and
threw the stones with extraordinary ability, thereby exciting the
citizens to combat. Old men sat at their windows watching the fight with
breathless interest. If they saw that their side was losing, they would
sometimes tear off coat and mantle, hurry downstairs, and utterly
regardless of their age, fling themselves into the thick of the fight.
"It was a very beautiful spectacle," exclaims Campano, "to witness the
fall, first of this one, then of that, as they were wounded and tumbled
to the ground, whilst others, protected by a shield, hurled themselves
upon their adversaries with the weight of their entire bodies, diving
in and out among the crowd and dealing blows upon their eyes and faces
with shield and sword and buckler."
To us it seems strange that at a time when the feuds of centuries lay
smouldering and ready to burst out at the smallest provocation, no
rancour, no ill-will, seemed to be harboured by the relations of the men
who fell dead or wounded in one of these terrible "games."
Besides encouraging sports, fighting wars, and arranging civil matters,
Braccio had a passion for building. He rebuilt the city walls in many
places. He added the loggia to the front of the Cathedral, that the
citizens might have a pleasant shelter in the square in which to discuss
and settle their affairs, and it was he who conceived a rather novel and
practical piece of engineering by bolstering up the houses of the Piazza
Sopramuro with strong walls from beneath.[19] The vanity of the
Perugians was immensely flattered by all the great doings of their new
leader, and their pride knew no bounds when, on the Feast of S.
Ercolano, the neighbouring towns sent in their banners with
extraordinary pomp in token of their absolute subjection to the city's
rule. So delighted indeed were the people, that they at once sent a
message to the Pope to ask him to confirm Braccio's dominion in Perugia.
The request was met in stony silence. The Papal See was jealous of
Braccio Fortebraccio, yet it could not do without him, and so, for the
time, it smothered its wrath and mortification. Martin V. was in need of
Braccio's sword to help in regaining the lost possessions of the Church,
and he sent for him to Florence to sign the necessary agreements. The
visit was disastrous, for even the Florentine street boys exulted in
the popularity of the hero:
"Braccio valente
Vince ogni gente
Papa Martino
Non val un quattrino"
they sang in high, shrill voices below the windows of His Holiness. The
insult stung and rankled.
"Papa Martino non val un quattrino," muttered the Pope in a miserable
voice as he paced up and down, complaining to his secretary.
* * * * *
In 1423 Braccio had reached the height of his power, but his ambition
soared still higher, and at this turn in his life his character seems to
have undergone a change. His vast plans for conquering Italy had
unhinged him, and he became cruel where formerly he had been kind, and
deaf to the counsels of his friends. The simplest and the quietest of
his days had been spent at Perugia, where his memory still lingers like
the aureole around some conquering saint. But looking out across the
plains and mountains of Umbria and towards the Marches which were
already his, Braccio dreamed his mighty dream: that of becoming king of
a united Italy. Aquila alone resisted his power, and in the year 1423,
he set out for his last venture. It is said that before he started he
left to the care of his wife, Nicolina da Varano, a little casket, with
the injunction that she should not open it until after his death, or his
return home. When Braccio died Nicolina opened the casket and she found
inside a black veil and a sceptre. It was thus the dead man told his
wife that the battle of Aquila decided whether she should be a powerful
queen or an unhappy widow.
The siege of Aquila lasted for a whole year, and finally, in May 1424, a
decisive battle took place in the plain below the town, between Braccio
and Caldora, who came to fight him in the name of Martin V. It was a
great fight, and it ended in a tragic manner: Braccio, the beloved of
the Perugians, got his death-wound at the hands of a Perugian citizen, a
_Raspante_, who had never forgiven the return of the nobles to Perugia.
Caldora tended Braccio during his last hours with every possible care.
The doctors hoped to save him, they said that the wounds in his head and
throat were curable, but Braccio wished to die; he was determined not to
survive his defeat. He refused all nourishment and during the three days
that he lingered, he never spoke a single word. His dream had faded, and
his courage gone.[20]
In the papal circle there was great rejoicing at the news of Braccio's
death, for Martin V. knew well that Umbria was once again his own. The
Pope indeed was small-minded enough to harbour his enmity to the very
last. Instead of allowing the fallen captain to be quietly buried, he
had him placed in unconsecrated ground outside the walls of Rome. The
bones of the great Braccio had but a troubled career. They were brought
to Perugia by Niccolò Fortebraccio, and deposited for a while in the
Church of S. Costanzo, where they were met by the municipality and the
whole city and then carried in triumphal procession to the Church of S.
Francesco al Prato. All the shops were closed as the bones passed up the
streets, no bells were rung, horses and men were draped in black. In
this century, by a piece of rather questionable taste the bones of the
hero were once more taken from their Church, and may now be stared at,
like the bones of the Etruscan ladies, under a bit of glass in the
museum of the University. Under them are written in Latin the following
lines: "O you who pass by, stay and weep. I, born in Perugia, was
received in Montone as an exile. Mars subjected to me my native land of
Umbria, and Capua too. Rome obeyed me, the world was the spectator and
Italy the stage. But Aquila mocked my fall, wherefore my weeping country
locked me into this small urn. Ah! Mars raised me up, Mors brought me
low. Therefore pass on."
The news of Braccio's death caused the utmost consternation in Perugia.
If the great captain had saved the town at a critical point, he may also
be said to have created a situation which was perhaps a still more
critical one for her citizens. Braccio was a noble. With his advent in
Perugia the party of the nobles had returned. Terrible things were in
store for the city. For a little while, and partly through the efforts
of a rather complicated personality, they were postponed, but the time
of terror was at hand.
When Braccio died at Aquila, the Perugians prepared to defend themselves
they knew not well from what. "Each man," says Graziani, "furnished
himself with flour, the ditches and walls were repaired both of the city
and the territory around it, and every one left the open country and
took refuge in fortresses and city palaces." Two courses lay open to
them, and of the two they selected that which seemed least evil. They
submitted themselves once more to the power of the Pope; and on July
29th, 1424, the delighted Martin entered Perugia as its acknowledged
lord and ruler.
Like many famous people of that day Martin had studied at the Perugian
University, and perhaps he had preserved an affection for the city which
he had known in his youth. Anyhow, the terms of peace which he concluded
with the citizens were very mild, and as usual, all the privileges
obtained from Innocent III. were preserved. But this time it was through
the _nobles_ that the Pope had been called into the city. The thin end
of the wedge was surely and irretrievably driven in, and the power of
the nobles was as a matter of fact secure. The Pope himself fostered the
growing power, and amongst others, who on the occasion of his advent
received rich possessions from him, was Malatesta Baglioni. Martin
handed Spello over to his rule, and thus helped to enrich a family whose
members were for a period to wrest the power from the Church itself, and
to set the town ablaze with crime and bloodshed.
* * * * *
The nobles remained at the head of affairs, but, as we have said, there
was one strong personality--a Perugian citizen, Niccolò Piccinino--who
made a last effort, as Braccio Fortebraccio and Michelotti had done
before him, to become that strange creation of the day: a _condottiere_
despot.
Niccolò Piccinino was a follower of Braccio di Montone, and his name
remains stamped on the pages of history for successfully leading the
Braccian troops to battle, and following out the famous tactics of his
master. For twenty years Piccinino maintained a constant rivalry with
Francesco Sforza, as Braccio Fortebraccio had done before him with
Attendolo Sforza, the ancestor of a line of dukes. The ancestry of
Niccolò is both humble and obscure.[21] Some tell us he was the son of a
Perugian butcher, others say, of a peasant from Calisciana near the
city, but it is difficult to get any satisfactory information about him;
he was practically little beyond an adventurer. As quite a boy he left
his home in the Umbrian hills, and started out to seek his fortune
amongst the captains of adventure in the north. Later in life his career
became closely linked with that of Fortebraccio, who loved him because
of his bravery and enthusiasm for the soldier's career. Nature had not
fitted Niccolò for the camp. His health was bad, he was paralysed in one
leg and had to be lifted on to his horse, and because of his miniature
figure he got the nickname of "Piccinino" (the Tiny One); but the small
body contained an undaunted spirit, and his tactics in the field were
quick and decisive. He never knew when he was beaten, but would turn to
strike again while the enemy were boasting of their victory. On one
occasion Piccinino crept into a sack and had himself carried across the
battlefield on a man's shoulder. The enemy (probably Francesco Sforza)
imagined him to be at that moment in an opposite direction, and the
sudden appearance of Piccinino's head from out of the sack, his piercing
eyes gazing at them over his carrier's back, caused general
consternation among the soldiers. Whether this strange manoeuvre won
the day history does not record.
In 1440 Piccinino made a desperate effort to win for himself the
government of Perugia, but Papal power was too deeply rooted in the
city, and he had to rest content with the title of _Gonfaloniere of the
Holy Church_--Supreme Magistrate of the City but acting in the Pope's
name.
Perugia had a terrible time under this ecclesiastical and military yoke.
Three masters pulled her different
[Illustration: NICCOLÒ PICCININO]
ways: Piccinino, the Pope, and the nobles, and each of these three
imposed taxes for their different uses. Piccinino's is an unsatisfactory
career. It is that of a man pouring old wine into new bottles; the trade
of the _condottiere_ ruler was practically dead. The Pope's tactics were
unsatisfactory also. He tried to conciliate two parties. He encouraged
and patronised the nobles and pandered to the populace by encouraging
all kinds of extravagant superstition. There is a horrid tale about the
burning of a witch at this time; and religious processions assumed such
monstrous length that the streets could hardly hold them, and we read
that the leading men got entangled in the tail of the procession which
had not been able to leave the piazza before those who had left it long
ago returned to the starting-point. Passion-preaching, too, became the
fashion, accompanied by grotesque miracle-plays in which a barber from
S. Angelo represented our Saviour; and all those things only served to
increase the morbid passions of the people. In this complicated
situation the nobles came off best, and their power grew and
strengthened rapidly; but the power was evil. As for the attitude
assumed by the former rulers of the city, it is difficult to judge. A
sort of stupor seems to have fallen on the hitherto vigilant _Priori_. A
feeble effort was made in 1444 to drive out the tormentors by payment of
a large sum of money to mercenary soldiers, but these only took the pay
and continued to enjoy themselves at the expense of the town.
Hitherto, at least, the nobles had been one party, fighting for one
cause. But now that the cause was won, now that their own supremacy had
been attained, they began to fight amongst themselves. They hated each
other with a mortal hatred. We no longer hear of fights between nobles
and burghers, but of passionate blood-feuds between the nobles
themselves: between the Oddi, Corgna, Staffa, Arciprete, Baglioni, and
others, and next we read of cousins murdering each other for the sake of
mere ambition. The slightest pretext is seized upon for a skirmish
between the men who, through centuries, had stood together in opposition
to the outside world. A hundred instances are given of their quarrels at
this period. The Della Corgna by way of an example, are one day
preparing to enhance the solemnity of a feast-day by decorating the Arco
dei Priori with box and laurel boughs, and are interrupted in their
pious labours by the Degli Oddi, who begin to pull down the decorations.
There is some dispute about precedence, in their quarter of the
city--some trifling question as to which family has most right to manage
the local festival, a bitter fight ensues, and the whole town is in a
tumult.
Again on another occasion, one of Ridolfo Baglioni's bastard sons wounds
a certain Naldino da Corciano, a friend of the Degli Oddi, and Naldino
hurries off to show his bleeding face to his allies. The Oddi, mad with
fury, rush all armed to the piazza, striking at every Baglioni adherent
whom they meet upon their way. The Baglioni are not slow to appear, as
ready for the fight as anybody. The shops are closed, the citizens arm
themselves, a procession wending its way to the Duomo is thrown into
utter disorder, and even the women thrust their heads out of the windows
and throw down jugs and tiles and pitchers into the street below. The
Bishop, the _Priori_, and the learned doctors of the law leave their
houses and exhort the nobles to lay down their arms; and after a while a
truce is obtained, and the hubbub for the time subsides.
Such scenes as these were of almost daily occurrence in the city, and it
was in vain that the Pope, both by foul means and by fair, attempted to
calm the frantic passions of the rivals.[22] It was in vain that S.
Bernardino, carrying his crucifix before him, came to preach of
brotherly love and unity, in vain the Blessed Colomba uttered mysterious
warnings. It was too late either for Pope or Saint to check so strong a
flood as the ambition of men like the Oddi and the Baglioni. All over
Italy at this period the character of individual families had grown too
strong for outer influences to crush it, and the heads of the Guelph
families were everywhere attempting to form themselves into ruling
princes. In the case of this struggle at Perugia the most successful of
the combatants were the Oddi and the Baglioni. The struggle between
them was a struggle unto death. Now one was driven from the city gates,
and now another; but finally, in 1488, the Oddi were ousted altogether,
and from that minute until the time when the great Farnese Pope came
down with guns and stones and every implement of war as well as curses,
to quell them, the members of the Baglioni family became the dominant
faction of the city. They left their country houses for ever. They fixed
their mighty eyries on the south side of the city, about where the
modern Prefettura stands to-day; from thence they dominated all the
town, and there they lived their wild ill-regulated lives, mingling the
most exquisite luxury with cruel vice. They were a splendid and a
beautiful race of men, and Italy rang with their great names, but their
rule was horrible.
"As I do not wish to swerve from the pure truth," says Matarazzo, who
himself adored them, "I say that from the day the Oddi were expelled our
city went from bad to worse. All the young men followed the trade of
arms. Their lives were disorderly; and every day divers excesses were
divulged, and the city had lost all reason and justice. Every man
administered right unto himself, _propriâ autoritate et manu regiâ_.
Meanwhile the Pope sent many legates, in order that the city might be
brought to order; but all who came returned in dread of being hewn in
pieces; for they threatened to throw some from the windows of the
palace, so that no cardinal or other legate durst approach Perugia,
unless he were a friend of the Baglioni. And the city was brought to
such misery that the most wrongous men were most prized; and those who
had slain two or three men walked as they listed through the palace, and
went with sword or poniard to speak to the podestà and other
magistrates. Moreover, every man of worth was downtrodden by _bravi_
whom the nobles favoured; nor could a citizen call his property his own.
The nobles robbed first one and then another of their goods and land.
All offices were sold or else suppressed; and taxes and extortions were
so grievous that every one cried out. And if a man were in prison for
his head, he had no reason to fear death, provided he had some interest
with a noble."
[Illustration: PALAZZO PUBBLICO]
CHAPTER III
_The Baglioni. Paul III. and last years of the City_
So after centuries of steady struggle fate had at last decreed that the
nobles should have their way. Because the way of the Baglioni is the
most picturesque point in all the annals of Perugia, because it was
crowned by one of the most horrible domestic tragedies of Italian
history, and because, moreover, it happens to have been so admirably and
so vividly recorded, we are sometimes inclined to regard it as the most
important fact about the town. We must, however, remember that it was
only one of the infinite points which make the city's history, and that
the rule of the Baglioni covers a period of not more than fifty years.
By a rare coincidence it happened that exactly at this period, _i.e._,
during the ascendency of the Baglioni, there was living in the city of
Perugia a scholar by name Matarazzo or Maturanzio.[23] This scholar took
upon himself to record day by day the extraordinary exploits of a family
in whose good looks and deeds of violence, their jousts and subterfuges,
he may be truly said not only to have delighted but to have revelled.
To understand the Baglioni and the fashion in which they were regarded
by the men of their day: terror, hatred, fear, and a cringing admiration
being pretty well mixed, one must study the chronicles of Matarazzo in
the original.[24] But as it would be impossible, and even impertinent
for us to try and retell the tale of this tragic history in new English
words, we have quoted at length the words of one who studied it
faithfully and recorded it with a strange vibrating echo of the original
language.[25] We have merely inserted here and there a few notes and
details which seemed to add to the narrative.
"It is not until 1495 that the history of the Baglioni becomes
dramatic, possibly because till then they lacked the pen of
Matarazzo. But from this year forward to their final extinction,
every detail of their doings has a picturesque and awful interest.
Domestic furies, like the revel descried by Cassandra above the
palace of Mycenæ, seem to take possession of the fated house; and
the doom which has fallen on them is worked out with pitiless
exactitude to the last generation. In 1495 the heads of the Casa
Baglioni were two brothers, Guido and Ridolfo, who had a numerous
progeny of heroic sons. From Guido sprang Astorre, Adriano--called
for his great strength Morgante--Gismondo, Marcantonio, and
Gentile. Ridolfo owned Troilo, Gianpaolo, and Simonetto. The first
glimpse we get of these young athletes in Matarazzo's chronicle is
on the occasion of a sudden assault upon Perugia made by the Oddi
and the exiles of their faction in September 1495. The foes of the
Baglioni entered the gates and began breaking the iron chains,
_serragli_, which barred the streets against advancing cavalry.
None of the noble house were on the alert except young Simonetto, a
lad of eighteen, fierce and cruel, who had not yet begun to shave
his chin. In spite of all dissuasion, he rushed forth alone,
bareheaded, in his shirt, with a sword in his right hand and a
buckler on his arm, and fought against a squadron. There at the
barrier of the piazza he kept his foes at bay, smiting men-at-arms
to the ground with the sweep of his tremendous sword, and receiving
on his gentle body twenty-two cruel wounds. While thus at fearful
odds, the noble Astorre mounted his charger and joined him. Upon
his helmet flashed the falcon of the Baglioni with the dragon's
tail that swept behind. Bidding Simonetto tend his wounds, he in
his turn held the square. Listen to Matarazzo's description of the
scene; it is as good as any piece of the _Mort Arthur_: "According
to the report of one who told me what he had seen with his own
eyes, never did anvil take so many blows as he upon his person and
his steed; and they all kept striking at his lordship in such
crowds that the one prevented the other. And so many lances,
partisans, and cross bow quarries, and other weapons made upon his
body a most mighty din, that above every other noise and shout was
heard the thud of those great strokes. But he, like one who had the
mastery of war, set his charger where the press was thickest,
jostling now one and now another; so that he ever kept at least ten
men of his foes stretched on the ground beneath his horse's hoofs;
which horse was a most fierce beast, and gave his enemies what
trouble he best could. And now that gentle lord was all fordone
with sweat and toil, he and his charger; and so weary were they
that scarcely could they any longer breathe. Soon after the
Baglioni mustered in force. One by one their heroes rushed from the
palaces. The enemy were driven back with slaughter; and a war
ensued which made the fair land between Assisi and Perugia a
wilderness for many months." It must not be forgotten that at the
time of these great feats of Simonetto and Astorre young Raphael
was painting in the studio of Perugino. What the whole city
witnessed with astonishment and admiration, he, the keenly
sensitive artist-boy, treasured in his memory. Therefore in the St
George of the Louvre, and in the mounted horseman trampling upon
Heliodorus in the Stanze of the Vatican, victorious Astorre lives
for ever, immortalised in all his splendour by the painter's art.
The grinning griffin on the helmet, the resistless frown upon the
forehead of the beardless knight, the terrible right arm, and the
ferocious steed--all are there as Raphael saw and wrote them on his
brain. One characteristic of the Baglioni, as might be plentifully
illustrated from their annalist, was their eminent beauty which
inspired beholders with an enthusiasm and a love they were far
from deserving by their virtues. It is this, in combination with
their personal heroism, which gives a peculiar dramatic interest to
their doings, and makes the chronicle of Matarazzo more fascinating
than a novel."
Matarazzo was not alone in his admiration for the Baglioni. He tells us
that whenever the "magnificent Guido," his son Astorre, or his nephew
Gianpaolo walked in the piazza every citizen paused at his work to
admire them, and if perchance a stranger passed through Perugia he was
certain to make every effort to see them. The soldiers would hurry from
their tents to see Gianpaolo go by, and anyone walking by this noble's
side seemed dwarfed and insignificant by reason of his great stature and
his noble form. Gismondo, another of Guide's sons, was universally
admired for his splendid horsemanship. He would make his horse leap into
the air, while he sat straight and square in the saddle, not stirring
hand or foot. The citizens looked on marvelling at these feats of skill
and daring. Gismondo was slim, and walked with the lightness of a cat,
so that no man in Perugia, however quick of hearing, knew when he was
coming. The richest and perhaps the handsomest of the Baglioni family
was young Grifonetto Baglioni, whose beauty Matarazzo compares to
Ganymede. He was the son of Grifone and Atalanta Baglioni, and nephew to
Guido and Ridolfo. His father had been stabbed at Ponte Ricciolo in
1477, and he lived with his young mother in one of the most beautiful
houses in Perugia. This palace had been commenced by Malatesta Baglioni
and finished by Braccio Baglioni, who, because of the court of learned
men he gathered round him, and the splendid festivals with which he
honoured the lovely ladies of the city, was called "Lorenzo il Magnifico
di Perugia." The palace was entered by a large and richly-ornamented
hall, hung with beautiful pictures. At the opposite end of the room was
a painting of a woman of most venerable and majestic bearing, and over
her head the word _Perusia_. This grave and queenly lady commanded a
view of all the celebrated men of the Umbrian city, for on one side of
the wall were portraits of the famous captains of adventure, and on the
other those of the most learned of the doctors and scholars, with their
names and a description of their mighty deeds written in full below
them. Grifonetto lived in great magnificence. "He kept numbers of
horses, Barbary steeds, to run in the races, jesters and other
properties pertaining to a gentleman. He even kept a lion; and all who
went to the house compared it to a king's court."
"In 1500, when the events about to be related took place,
Grifonetto was quite a youth. Brave, rich, handsome, and married to
a young wife, Zenobia Sforza, he was the admiration of Perugia. He
and his wife loved each other dearly, and how, indeed, could it be
otherwise, since 'l'uno e l'altro sembravano doi angioli di
Paradiso?'[26] At the same time he had fallen into the hands of bad
and desperate counsellors. A bastard of the house, Filippo da
Braccio, his half-uncle, was always at his side, instructing him
not only in the accomplishments of chivalry, but also in wild ways
that brought his name into disrepute. Another of his familiars was
Carlo Barciglia Baglioni, an unquiet spirit, who longed for more
power than his poverty and comparative obscurity allowed. With them
associated Girolamo della Penna, a veritable ruffian, contaminated
from his earliest youth with every form of lust and violence, and
capable of any crime. These three companions, instigated partly by
the lord of Camerino and partly by their own cupidity, conceived a
scheme for massacring the families of Guido and Ridolfo at one
blow. As a consequence of this wholesale murder, Perugia would be
at their discretion. Seeing of what use Grifonetto by his wealth
and name might be to them, they did all they could to persuade him
to join their conjuration. It would appear that the bait first
offered him was the sovereignty of the city, but that he was at
last gained over by being made to believe that his wife, Zenobia,
had carried on an intrigue with Gianpaolo Baglioni. The dissolute
morals of the family gave plausibility to an infernal trick which
worked upon the jealousy of Grifonetto. Thirsting for revenge, he
consented to the scheme. The conspirators were further fortified by
the accession of Jeronimo della Staffa, and three members of the
house of Corgna. It is noticeable that out of the whole number only
two--Bernardo da Corgna and Filippo da Braccio--were above the age
of thirty. Of the rest, few had reached twenty-five. At so early an
age were the men of those times adepts in violence and treason. The
execution of the plot was fixed for the wedding festivities of
Astorre Baglioni with Lavinia, the daughter of Giovanni Colonna and
Giustina Orsini. At that time the whole Baglioni family were to be
assembled in Perugia, with the single exception of Marcantonio, who
was taking baths at Naples for his health. It was known that the
members of the noble house, nearly all of them condottieri by
trade, and eminent for their great strength and skill in arms, took
few precautions for their safety. They occupied several houses
close together between the Porta San Carlo and the Porta Eburnea,
set no regular guard over their sleeping-chambers, and trusted to
their personal bravery and to the fidelity of their attendants. It
was thought that they might be assassinated in their beds. The
wedding festivities began upon the 28th of July, and great is the
particularity with which Matarazzo describes the doings of each
successive day--processions, jousts, triumphal arches, banquets,
balls, and pageants."
Perugia, it seems, was turned into a veritable garden of loveliness on
this occasion. Rich velvets, brocades, and tapestries hung from the
palace windows, their gorgeous colours mingled with long trails of ivy,
with many shrubs and the branches of blossoming trees, which also filled
the streets. Colossal arches spanned the roads at the different gates
into the city. All vied together to erect the finest arch; and one was
hung all over with tapestries showing the military exploits of the young
Astorre. As the Roman bride passed in, the ladies of Perugia went to
meet her, offering her rich presents. Some were dressed in cloth of
gold and silver, others in silk and velvet, and many of them were lovely
to behold. But Lavinia Colonna excelled them all by the glory of her
broidered gown, and by the pearls and jewels twisted in her hair.
Simonetto Baglioni drove round the city in a triumphal car, and as he
went he cast great quantities of sugared dainties to the crowd, thus
trying, by every means in his power, to add to the merriment of the
marriage-day, and to show that love and comradeship united the Baglioni
family.
But down in the Borgo S. Angelo men were silent and morose, for they
hated these tyrants of Perugia, and held aloof from all rejoicings. They
had noted strange auguries of late, and a whisper went round that evil
was impending. On the first night of the festivities a terrible storm
arose, scattering the decorations in the whirlwind. It was an awful
night, and the young Roman bride shuddered, as above the din of the
storm, she heard the sinister roars of the Baglioni lions.[27] Lavinia
and Astorre were lodged in the palace of their traitorous cousin
Grifonetto, and neither dreamt of the treachery that was so near at
hand.
"The night of the 14th of August was finally set apart for the
consummation of _el gran tradimento_: it is thus that Matarazzo
always alludes to the crime of Grifonetto, with a solemnity of
reiteration that is most impressive. A heavy stone let fall into
the courtyard of Guido Baglioni's palace was to be the signal: each
conspirator was then to run to the sleeping-chamber of his
appointed prey. Two of the principals and fifteen _bravi_ were told
off to each victim: rams and crowbars were prepared to force the
doors if needful. All happened as had been anticipated. The crash
of the falling stone was heard. The conspirators rushed to the
scene of operations. Astorre, who was sleeping in the house of his
traitorous cousin Grifonetto, was slain in the arms of his young
bride, crying, as he vainly struggled, 'Misero Astorre che more
come poltrone!'[28] Simonetto flew to arms, exclaiming to his
brother, 'Non dubitare Gismondo, mio fratello!'[29] He, too, was
soon despatched.[30] Filippo da Braccio, after killing him, tore
from a great wound in his side the still quivering heart, into
which he drove his teeth with savage fury. Old Guido died groaning,
'Ora è gionto il ponto mio,'[31] and Gismondo's throat was cut
while he lay holding back his face that he might be spared the
sight of his own massacre. The corpses of Astorre and Simonetto
were stripped and thrown out naked into the streets. Men gathered
round and marvelled to see such heroic forms, with faces so proud
and fierce even in death. In especial the foreign students likened
them to ancient Romans. But on their fingers were rings, and these
the ruffians of the place would fain have hacked off with their
knives. From this indignity the noble limbs were spared; then the
dead Baglioni were hurriedly consigned to an unhonoured tomb.
Meanwhile the rest of the intended victims managed to escape.
Gianpaolo, assailed by Grifonetto and Gianfrancesco della Corgna,
took refuge with his squire, Maraglia, upon a staircase leading
from his room. While the squire held the passage with his pike
against the foe, Gianpaolo effected his flight over neighbouring
house-roofs. He crept into the attic of some foreign students, who,
trembling with terror, gave him food and shelter, clad him in a
scholar's gown, and helped him to fly in this disguise from the
gates at dawn. He then joined his brother Troilo at Marsciano,
whence he returned without delay to punish the traitors. At the
same time Grifonetto's mother Atalanta, taking with her his wife,
Zenobia, and the two young sons of Gianpaolo, Malatesta and Orazio,
afterwards so celebrated in Italian history for their great feats
of arms and their crimes, fled to her country-house at Landona.
Grifonetto in vain sought to see her there. She drove him from her
presence with curses for the treason and the fratricide that he
had planned. It is very characteristic of these wild natures,
framed of fierce instincts and discordant passions, that his
mother's curse weighed like lead upon the unfortunate young man.
Next day, when Gianpaolo returned to try the luck of arms,
Grifonetto, deserted by the companions of his crime and paralysed
by the sense of his guilt, went out alone to meet him on the public
place. The semi-failure of their scheme had terrified the
conspirators: the horrors of that night of blood unnerved them. All
had fled except the next victim of the feud. Putting his sword to
the youth's throat, Gianpaolo looked into his eyes and said, 'Art
thou here, Grifonetto? Go with God's peace: I will not slay thee,
nor plunge my hand in my own blood, as thou hast done in thine.'
Then he turned and left the lad to be hacked in pieces by his
guard. The untranslatable words which Matarazzo uses to describe
his death are touching from the strong impression they convey of
Grifonetto's goodliness: 'Qui ebbe sua signoria sopra sua nobile
persona tante ferite che suoi membra leggiadre stese in terra.'[32]
None but Greeks felt the charm of personal beauty thus.[33] But
while Grifonetto was breathing out his life upon the pavement of
the piazza, his mother, Atalanta, and his wife Zenobia, came to
greet him through the awe-struck city. As they approached, all men
fell aside and slunk away before their grief. None would seem to
have had a share in Grifonetto's murder. Then Atalanta knelt by her
dying son, and ceased from wailing, and prayed and exhorted him to
pardon those who had caused his death. It appears that Grifonetto
was too weak to speak, but that he made a signal of assent, and
received his mother's blessing at the last: "And then the noble
stripling stretched his right hand to his youthful mother, pressing
the white hand of his mother; and afterwards forthwith he breathed
his soul forth from his beauteous body, and died with numberless
blessings of his mother instead of the curses she had given him
before."
"After the death of Grifonetto and the flight of the conspirators,
Gianpaolo took possession of Perugia. All who were suspected of
complicity in the treason were massacred upon the piazza and in
the cathedral. At the expense of more than a hundred murders, the
chief of the Baglioni found himself master of the city on the 17th
of July. First he caused the cathedral to be washed with wine and
reconsecrated. Then he decorated the Palazzo with the heads of the
traitors and with their portraits in fresco, painted hanging head
downwards, as was the fashion in Italy. Next he established himself
in what remained of the palaces of his kindred, hanging the saloons
with black, and arraying his retainers in the deepest mourning.
Sad, indeed, was now the aspect of Perugia. Helpless and
comparatively uninterested, the citizens had been spectators of
these bloody broils. They were now bound to share the desolation of
their masters. Matarazzo's description of the mournful palace and
the silent town, and of the return of Marcantonio from Naples,
presents a picture striking for its vividness.[34] In the true
style of the Baglioni, Marcantonio sought to vent his sorrow not so
much in tears as by new violence. He prepared and lighted torches,
meaning to burn the whole quarter of S. Angelo; and from this
design he was with difficulty dissuaded by his brother. To such mad
freaks of rage and passion were the inhabitants of a mediæval town
in Italy exposed! They make us understand the _ordinanze di
giustizia_, by which to be a noble was a crime in Florence.
"From this time forward the whole history of the Baglioni family is
one of crime and bloodshed. A curse had fallen on the house, and to
the last of its members the penalty was paid. Gianpaolo himself
acquired the highest reputation throughout Italy for his courage
and sagacity both as a general and a governor."
Gianpaolo is the last member of the Baglioni brood who succeeded in
ruling over his native city, maintaining the despotic traditions of his
predecessors by a system of unconscionable brutality. The personality of
this tyrant is strongly brought forward in Italian histories. Frolliere
gives the following account of the fascination of the outward man:
"Gianpaolo during his life-time was the favoured one of Heaven and
of fortune. He was handsome and of a gracious aspect, pleasant and
benign; eloquent in his conversation, and of great prudence; and
every gesture harmonised with his words and manner. In his desire
to please all, even strangers, if perchance he was unable or
unwilling to serve them, he showed himself so gracious and so
willing, that they left him satisfied and pleased. He was much
given to the love of women and he was greatly loved by them by
reason of his delicate and lordly bearing. He was, indeed, a
valiant and a gallant knight, of admirable and almost divine talent
and resource, as was shown in many of his enterprises and his
actions."[35]
But there was a very different side to this in the character of
Gianpaolo, and we hear that on one occasion
... "he had it in his mind to murder four citizens of Perugia, his
enemies. He looked calmly on while his kinsmen Eusebio and Taddeo
Baglioni, who had been accused of treason, were hewn to pieces by
his guard. His wife, Ippolita de' Conti, was poniarded on her Roman
farm; on hearing the news, he ordered a festival in which he was
engaged to proceed with redoubled merriment."[36]
Gianpaolo was also a good diplomatist, as cautious as he was cruel, and
one of the most striking pictures in Perugian history is that of his
reception of Julius II. in 1506, on which occasion the Pope came to
visit the tyrant in person. The Baglioni was perfectly well aware that
Julius had come for the purpose of re-establishing papal dominion in the
city; but he was too cautious to shove His Holiness over a wall which he
was building at the time, and thus to counterfeit the papal plans and
set all Italy ablaze with admiration at the audacity of his action:
"While Michelangelo was planning frescoes and venting his bile in
sonnets, the fiery Pope had started on his perilous career of
conquest. He called the cardinals together, and informed them that
he meant to free the cities of Perugia and Bologna from their
tyrants. God, he said, would protect His Church; he could rely on
the support of France and Florence. Other popes had stirred up wars
and used the services of Generals; he meant to take the field in
person. Louis XII. is reported to have jeered among his courtiers
at the notion of a high-priest riding to the wars. A few days
afterwards, on the 27th of August, the Pope left Rome attended by
twenty-four cardinals and 500 men-at-arms. He had previously
secured the neutrality of Venice and a promise of troops from the
French court. When Julius reached Orvieto, he was met by Gianpaolo,
the bloody and licentious despot of Perugia. Notwithstanding
Baglioni knew that Julius was coming to assert his supremacy, and
notwithstanding the Pope knew that this might drive to desperation
a man so violent and stained with crime as Baglioni, they rode
together to Perugia, where Gianpaolo paid homage and supplied his
haughty guest with soldiers. The rashness of this act of Julius
sent a thrill of admiration throughout Italy, stirring that sense
of _terribilità_ which fascinated the imagination of the men of the
Renaissance. Machiavelli, commenting upon the action of the
Baglioni, remarks that the event proved how difficult it is for a
man to be perfectly and scientifically wicked."[37]
* * * * *
"At last the time came for Gianpaolo to die by fraud and violence.
Leo X., anxious to remove so powerful a rival from Perugia, lured
him in 1520 to Rome under the false protection of a papal
safe-conduct. After a short imprisonment he had him beheaded in the
Castle of S. Angelo. It was thought that Gentile, his first cousin,
sometime Bishop of Orvieto, but afterwards the father of two sons
in wedlock with Giulia Vitelli--such was the discipline of the
Church at this epoch--had contributed to the capture of Gianpaolo,
and had exulted in his execution. If so, he paid dear for his
treachery; for Orazio Baglioni, the second son of Gianpaolo and
captain of the Church under Clement VII., had him murdered in 1527,
together with his two nephews Fileno and Annibale. This Orazio was
one of the most bloodthirsty of the whole brood. Not satisfied with
the assassination of Gentile, he stabbed Galeotto, the son of
Grifonetto, with his own hand in the same year. Afterwards he died
in the kingdom of Naples while leading the Black Bands in the
disastrous war which followed the sack of Rome. He left no son.
Malatesta, his elder brother, became one of the most celebrated
generals of the age, holding the batons of the Venetian and
Florentine republics, and managing to maintain his ascendency in
Perugia in spite of the persistent opposition of successive popes.
But his name is best known in history for one of the greatest
public crimes. Intrusted with the defence of Florence during the
siege of 1530, he sold the city to his enemy, Pope Clement,
receiving for the price of this infamy certain privileges and
immunities which fortified his hold upon Perugia for a season. All
Italy was ringing with the great deeds of the Florentines, who for
the sake of their liberty transformed themselves from merchants
into soldiers, and withstood the united powers of pope and emperor
alone. Meanwhile Malatesta, whose trade was war, and who was being
largely paid for his services by the beleaguered city, contrived by
means of diplomatic procrastination, secret communication with the
enemy, and all the arts that could intimidate an army of recruits,
to push affairs to a point at which Florence was forced to
capitulate without inflicting the last desperate glorious blow she
longed to deal her enemies. The universal voice of Italy condemned
him. When Matteo Dandolo, the Doge of Venice, heard what he had
done, he cried before the Pregadi in conclave, 'He has sold that
people and that city, and the blood of those poor citizens ounce by
ounce, and has donned the cap of the biggest traitor in the world.'
Consumed with shame, corroded by an infamous disease, and
mistrustful of Clement, to whom he had sold his honor, Malatesta
retired to Perugia, and died in 1531. He left one son, Ridolfo, who
was unable to maintain himself in the lordship of his native city.
After killing the papal legate, Cinzio Filonardi, in 1534, he was
dislodged four years afterwards, when Paul III. took final
possession of the place as an appanage of the Church, razed the
houses of the Baglioni to the ground, and built upon their site the
Rocca Paolina....
... "Ridolfo Baglioni and his cousin Braccio, the eldest son of
Grifonetto, were both captains of Florence. The one died in battle
in 1554, the other in 1559. Thus ended the illustrious family. They
are now represented by descendants from females, and by contadini,
who preserve their name and boast a pedigree, of which they have no
written records."[38]
* * * * *
Thus the Baglioni practically killed themselves--stamped out their own
power through their own passions. It remained for the Church to crush if
possible the spirit of liberty and of self-government in the people of
Perugia. It is as though a mighty wheel spun round and we next find the
city wholly and entirely in the clutches of Rome.
* * * * *
When the last strong member of the terrible brood, Ridolfo Baglioni,
forced his way back into Perugia with the evident intention of ruling
there, he seems to have ignored the fact that he had something more
powerful to face than the opposition of the people. Ridolfo set fire to
the people's palace, but he went much further, he assassinated the
Pope's Legate. This outrage gave the final push to Rome, who had so
often and so impotently interfered before, and Paul Farnese, the
reigning Pope, listened, we hear, with the profoundest displeasure to
the account of this barefaced murder. He at once took the high hand. He
sent troops from Rome to drive out Ridolfo, who retired before them to
seek a better fortune elsewhere. He then had the walls of Spello,
Bettona, Bastia, and other strongholds of Ridolfo Baglioni demolished,
and finally, in order to make his policy more permanent and decisive,
the great Farnese Pope arrived in person at Perugia.
Paul's arrival is one of the most impressive points in the annals of the
town. The rule of the Baglioni had been so powerful and so picturesque
that in tracing it one is inclined to ignore the undercurrent of affairs
in the city. As a matter of fact the old order of rule had not really
died out under that of the nobles, and in the description of Paul's
reception we find the familiar names of companies and _Priori_ occurring
again and again with all their followers and titles.
The Perugians, wearied to death by the despotic rule of the nobles,
hailed the advent of a much more despotic Pope with blind and excessive
joy. Paul came in triumph, and in triumph he was received. Great arches
were built for him and for his cardinals to pass beneath, and since the
town had not sufficient money to spend on his reception they even melted
down a beautiful silver ship belonging to the city plate chest. It was
on the last day of August 1535, and at about midnight, that "His Blessed
Holiness" arrived at the gates with fourteen cardinals and some
companies of 600 or 700 horse and 700 infantry. The Pope rode up on
horseback, dressed in scarlet. Drums and tambours heralded his approach.
The cardinals rode by two and two. On either side of His Holiness rode
his two nephews: the Cardinals Alexander Farnese and Guido Ascanio
Sforza. The _Priori_, all in new and gorgeous robes, preceded by the
Holy Eucharist, came out to meet him, and through their ambassador or
_nunzio_ they presented to His Holiness a silver basin containing the
keys of the city. Then a learned doctor of the University delivered "a
short but elegant address," to which the Pope listened attentively, and
for that night the Pope turned in to sleep in the monastery of S.
Pietro. The following day he entered the city with extraordinary pomp
and took up his abode in the Palazzo Pubblico, where the _Priori_ had
vacated their own rooms in order to give him proper space; and thither
all the professors and all the members of the city guilds and
confraternities arrived that afternoon to kiss his foot.
Paul's first visit to Perugia may be called a triumphal progress rather
than anything else. He gave great gifts of grain to the city, and he
conferred countless benefits upon its churches and its clergy. But he
came to rule, and not to pamper or caress. For a time all went well.
The convents and the monasteries grew fat and prosperous, the Baglioni
were away, and the people apparently at peace; but storms were brewing.
After three years of passive submission Perugia found cause to revolt
against her new ruler as she had done against her old. In 1538 Paul III.
sent out his decree for raising the price of salt by one half in all the
pontifical states, and the Perugians revolted at once against an
imposition which they had good reason to feel unjust.[39]
Revolution was declared. Alfano Alfani, the chief of the magistrates,
tried to calm the fury of his countrymen, and at first only humble
entreaties were sent down to Rome imploring Paul III. to remove a tax so
odious to the people. But the Pope was too much in need of money to
listen to these prayers. His only answer was an excommunication, which
punishment was not unfamiliar to the people of Perugia. During the month
of March 1539 the city lay under an interdict, no masses were said, no
sacraments given, and the churches seemed as the monuments of a people
long since dead. Every day the murmurings of the Perugians grew and
strengthened, and finally they took the high-handed measure of arranging
matters for themselves. They elected twenty-five citizens who were
called "the twenty-five defenders of justice in the city of Perugia,"
and before many days were out the "twenty-five" had obtained unlimited
power. They exercised an independent and undisputed authority and pushed
the _priori_ entirely to one side. Their endeavours to protect their
liberty and resist the Pope's authority soon roused his anger. The
Farnese was not a person to be trifled with, and this barefaced
rebellion of the little Umbrian city had to be crushed by prompt and
powerful means; so the Pope sent his son, Pier Luigi Farnese, at the
head of 10,000 Italians and 3000 Spaniards to meet the rulers in the
field.
A strange piece of history follows. The Perugians veer round utterly and
call in as their leader Ridolfo Baglioni to help them against a Pope,
whom but three short years ago they had welcomed as their best
benefactor.
Ridolfo went forth to fight against the Papal troops with a mighty
flourish of trumpets, but we only hear faint rumours of a skirmish near
Ponte S. Giovanni where one or two men were killed, and a few more
tumbled off their chargers. The whole account reads like a farce, and
yet we know that men and women regarded it with deadly earnest at the
time. The city was all unhinged. An extraordinary religious phase which
had nothing to do with the Church came over her. The large crucifix
which is still to be seen in S. Lorenzo, was placed above the main
entrance to the Duomo, and here the people came to pray and tell their
beads with an unwonted fervour. Continual processions wound their slow
way up from S. Domenico to the Cathedral square, and we hear that the
cries for mercy were deafening throughout the city.
On a dark night, by the flickering light of many torches, Maria Podiano,
the Chancellor of the Commune, delivered a touching oration, and in the
sight of all the citizens he placed the city keys at the foot of the
great crucifix on the outside of the Cathedral--Christ was to be their
defender, Christ their leader, to fight against a Pope![40]
But it was impossible that Perugia should be able to stand against such
an army as that of Paul III., and Ridolfo Baglioni was the first to see
that his side must lose. With less loyalty than might have been expected
from this would-be despot of Perugia, he edged towards peace, and
finally, on the 3rd June 1540, peace was concluded between Pier Luigi
Farnese and Ridolfo Baglioni. Thus it happened that once again Perugia
was cast under the shadow of Pontifical Rome. Neighbouring towns had
abandoned her at the moment when she wrestled for her liberty; Ridolfo
Baglioni had given her but a half-hearted help, and the Perugians were
driven to confess that the only course which now lay open to them was an
apology to the Pope. Twenty-five ambassadors were therefore sent to
Rome. Dressed in long black robes with halters round their necks, the
unhappy Perugian envoys crouched in the portico of S. Peter's awaiting
their absolution.
Pardon was obtained, but at a heavy price. The ambassadors returned home
bearing the news that Paul had forgiven the city; but the titles of
Preservers of Ecclesiastical Obedience, borne by the Pope's magistrates,
warned Perugia quite sufficiently that her old forms of government were
wiped away for ever. A few days later and the foundations of Paul III.'s
fortress were laid on the site of the razed palaces of the Baglioni, and
the citizens were compelled to lend their help in the erection of this
colossal stronghold which was to prove their bane for centuries to
follow. On its inner walls it bore the following inscription, which
fully indicated the feelings and intentions of the indomitable Farnese:
_Ad coercendam Perusinorum Audaciam_.[41]
Writhing beneath the yoke of priests, the Perugians soon regretted even
the rule of the Baglioni: "Help me if you can," Malatesta Baglioni had
cried as he lay dying at Bettona in 1531, "for after my death you will
be made to draw the cart like oxen"; and Frolliere, chronicling these
words, remarks: "This has been fulfilled to the last letter, for all
have borne not only the yoke but the goad."[42]
In the same year (1540) as that in which Paul III. laid the foundations
of his famous fortress, a society, which proved of invaluable service in
furthering the work and wishes of the Papacy, sprang forth into vigorous
life, and gradually the chief power in Perugia fell into the hands of
the Jesuits. These agents of the Pope proceeded to convert the city
wholesale by means of religious ceremonies, general confessions,
preachings in every square, and in all the corners of the streets, and
colossal processions, headed by missionaries wearing crowns of thorns
and bearing enormous crosses. Industries died out, poverty, famine, and
pestilence decimated the city, and in 1728, from a petition presented to
Clement X., it appears that Perugia was reduced to such a state of
wretchedness as to bring tears to the eyes of those who remembered her
former prosperity.
* * * * *
The final history of Perugia, down to the present day, may be compressed
into a very few lines. Up to the
[Illustration: FORTRESS OF PAUL III. SHOWING THE UPPER PART NOW OCCUPIED
BY THE PREFETTURA, ETC., AND THE LOWER WING WHICH COVERED THE SITE OF
THE PRESENT PIAZZA D'ARMI
(_From a water-colour sketch now in the possession of Madame Brufani at
Perugia._)]
end of the last century, she was practically ruled by the Popes, and was
a city of the Papal States. Her immense convents and churches were
filled with monks and nuns. In 1549, Julius III. restored to her some of
her ancient privileges of which Paul had deprived her, and in some sort
she regained her old forms of government, but she could never again be
called by her historians an independent State. In 1797, during the
general upheaval of Europe which followed the revolution in France, she
underwent a quite new phase, and became a French Prefecture under the
title of _Departimento del Trasimeno_. General la Valette levied tribute
from the citizens, who were further harassed by the sudden break up of
the Roman Republic and an Austrian occupation. After the Battle of
Marengo, in 1800, Perugia ceased to be Pontifical, and in 1809 she was
formally annexed to the French Empire, and made a canton of Spoleto
under a sub-prefect. By Napoleon's orders the convents of both sexes and
of all orders were suppressed, the bishops and prelates were sent to
Rome in carriage loads, and the poor monks and nuns were unfrocked and
literally carted through the streets to their homes. When a turn came in
the fortunes of the empire, Perugia became the victim of another change,
and with the partial introduction of the papal sway, the monks and nuns
returned to their convents.
In spite of its tyrannies, the Napoleonic occupation had given the
Perugians a taste for better things than a papal despotism, and they
never again found rest in the care of the Pope. They fretted and chafed
under the Pope's people; the Pope's fortress became a veritable eye-sore
to them, the daily sight of its walls burned into their hearts like
red-hot nails, and whenever they could they pulled a part of it down.
At last, in 1859, they rose in open rebellion, and Papal troops were
sent by Pius IX. to besiege the town. Some 2000 of the Swiss Guard, led
by Colonel Schmid, arrived from Rome to quell the insurrection. Bonazzi
gives a vivid account of the atrocities these men committed in the city.
They killed all whom they laid hands on in their raids as they passed
through the streets, crying aloud as they went that "their master the
Pope had given them orders that none should be spared." S. Pietro was
forced, and, notwithstanding the protests of the Abbot and his monks,
its vestments were torn to threads, gold and silver ornaments carried
away, and not even the archives with their wealth of long accumulated
missals escaped the vandalism of the papal troops. (See p. 162.)
In 1860 the Swiss were finally dislodged by Victor Emanuel's envoy,
General Manfredo Fanti; and, unarmed and closely guarded by a double
file of the King's soldiers, the last representatives of papal power
were driven from the fortress of Paul III., and having passed a night in
the cathedral, they were ousted for ever from the precincts of Perugia.
Paul III.'s fortress had now been entirely pulled down by an infinite
number of willing hands, and the present great buildings of the
Prefettura, which represents the modern government of a prosperous town,
took their place on the former site of the Baglioni palaces.
* * * * *
With the loss of Perugia's independent existence in 1540 the light of
romance was lost to her history. But from that minute, and in spite of
all her anguish and humiliation, she learned the final lesson of how to
live at peace within herself, and be at peace with all her neighbours.
This lesson she had never learned through all her battlings in the past.
She had risen fighting, and fighting she had flourished. It would be
inaccurate to say that fighting she fell.
Perugia never fell. She was merely caught and tamed. Anyone familiar
with the cities of Umbria will at once recognise in this, their head,
something forcible, strong, grand, and enduring, which neither nobles,
emperors, nor popes were able to beat out of her; something which has
kept her what she was at the beginning: Perugia, the city of plenty, and
fitted her to be what she is now: Perugia the capital of Umbria; as
grand in her unity with her great mother, as she was powerful in her
strife.
CHAPTER IV
_The City of Perugia_
"C'est une vieille ville du moyen âge, ville de défense et de
refuge, posée sur un plateau escarpé, d'où toute la vallée se
découvre."--H. TAINE, _Voyage en Italie_.
Having glanced thus rapidly over the history of Perugia we turn with
fresh interest to examine the city itself, and to trace through what
remains of its earliest walls and houses, the character of those same
fascinating, if pugnacious persons, who built those walls, fought over
them, lived and died within them.
Perugia is an excellent mirror of history, combining on its surface not
only a reflection of the immortal past but of a prosperous present, and
with the exception of ancient Roman influences, which, for some obscure
reason, have almost entirely vanished, it would be difficult to find a
nest of man more perfect or unchanged in all its parts. Battered and
abused by warfare and by weather the stones of the middle ages may be
and are, but they have not been destroyed, and there is something grand
and clean in the modern buildings which confirms, rather than destroys,
the æsthetic charm and splendour of the old.
Perugia is very distinctly the living capital of the province. After
travelling through Umbria and studying one by one the little dreamy
old-world cities--each perched upon its separate hillside, which seem to
have fallen asleep long centuries ago, letting the silence of
[Illustration: PERUGIA FROM THE ROAD TO THE CAMPO SANTO]
the grass close in on their paved streets, as the need of
self-protection vanished--one returns to Perugia and recognises that
she, at least, has never died. She is often very silent, very brown and
grim; she has her dreams, but the hope in her: the desire for rule and
power, has never really vanished. The most remarkable change about the
town, if we are to take what we read of her history for certain fact, is
the change in her people. The inhabitants of Perugia, in every class,
are unmistakably gentle and amiable, both in mind and manner. They are
courteous to strangers, kind, helpful and calm. Even the street boys ask
one for stamps instead of pennies. In their leisure they are gay, and in
their work persistent. They are never frantic or demonstrative. As one
sits at one's window on warm spring nights, one almost wishes the people
in the street would either fight or sing, but they do neither. They take
their pleasures calmly, and hang upon their town walls by the hour,
gazing out upon a view they love. Perhaps in their inmost hearts they
are counting the numberless little cities, all of which their fathers
won for them in battles of the past. The fact of their supremacy may
make them thrill, but there is nothing to mark their triumph in their
faces.
This is no place in which to discuss the rapid change of personality in
the Perugians. We note it as a fact, and pass to a description of the
town itself, which certainly contains abundant marks of that same
"warlike" character which time has washed away from the minds of its
inhabitants.
The city is built, as we have shown in our first chapter, on one of the
low hills formed after thousands of years by the silting up of the
refuse brought down by the Tiber, and not, as one naturally at first
imagines, on a spur of the actual Apennines which are divided from her
by the river. Much of the power of the town in the past may be traced to
her extraordinary topographical position. Perugia stands 1705 feet above
the level of the sea, and 1200 above that of the Tiber. She stands
perfectly alone at the extreme edge of a long spine of hill, and she
commands the Tiber and the two great roads to Rome.[43] But looked at
from a merely picturesque point of view, few towns can boast of a more
powerful charm. Perugia, if one ignores her history, is not so much a
town as an eccentric freak of nature. All the winds and airs of heaven
play and rush around her walls in summer and in winter. The sun beats
down upon her roofs; one seems to see more stars at night, above her
ramparts, than one sees in any other town one knows of. All Umbria is
spread like a great pageant at her feet, and the pageant is never one
day or one hour like the other. Even in a downpour, even in a tempest
the great view fascinates. In spring the land is green with corn and oak
trees, and pink with the pink of sainfoin flowers. In winter it seems
smaller, nearer; brown and gold, and very grand at sundown. On clear
days one can easily trace a whole circle of Umbrian cities from the
Umbrian capital. To the east Assisi, Spello, Foligno, Montefalco, and
Trevi. The hill above Bettona hides the town of Spoleto, but its ilex
woods and its convent of Monte Luco are distinct enough. To the south
Todi and Deruta stand out clear upon their hillsides; and to the east
the home of Perugino, Città della Pieve, rises half hidden in its
oakwoods. Early in the mornings you will see the mists lift slowly from
the Tiber; at night the moon will glisten on its waters, drawing your
fancy down to Rome. Strange lights shine upon the clouds behind the
ridge which covers Trasimene, and to the north the brown hills rise and
swell, fold upon fold, to meet the Apennines. In autumn and in winter
the basin of the old Umbrian lake will often fill for days with mists,
but the Umbrian towns and hamlets rise like the birds above them, and
one may live in one of these in splendid sunshine, whilst looking down
upon a sea of fog which darkens all the people of the plain.
The inhabitants of Perugia swear by the healthy nature of their air, and
indeed, were it not for the winds, the most fragile constitution would
probably flourish in the high hill city. But it must be confessed that
there come days when man and horse quiver like dead leaves before the
tempest, and when the very houses seem to rock. Indeed, it would be
almost impossible to exaggerate the arctic power of a Perugian
whirlwind. Yet the average temperature is mild, and myrtles grow to the
size of considerable trees in the villa gardens round the town.
To fully understand the city of Perugia, the marvellous fashion of its
building, and the way in which its houses have become a part of the
landscape and seem to creep about and cling to the unsteady crumbling
soil, one should pass out into the country through one of its gates,
and, rambling round the roads and lanes which wind beneath its walls,
look ever up and back again towards the town. In this way only is it
possible to understand what man can do with Nature, and how, with the
centuries, Nature can gather to herself man's handiwork and make of it a
portion for herself. Birds and beasts have built in this same fashion,
but rarely except in Umbria have men.
"The unstable quality of the soil on which Perugia is built," writes
Mariotti, "has made strong walls and very costly buildings a necessity,"
and he goes on to point out the different and expensive ways in which
the town has been bolstered up with solid masonry. The Etruscans were
the first to recognise this necessity. They may have been a peaceful and
a rather bourgeois set of human beings, differing in all ways from
their combative successors, but they understood the science of building,
and their walls, which encompassed only about one-third of the space
covered by the mediæval town, remain a monument of splendid solid
masonry wherever they can be traced.
[Illustration: ETRUSCAN ARCH. PORTA EBURNEA]
* * * * *
The Etruscan walls are a marked feature of some Umbrian cities, and
although it is rather the fashion to dispute their authenticity in
Perugia, the bits which remain of them there are probably quite genuine.
They have, however, become such a part of the mediæval and the modern
town, and are often so embedded in later buildings, that without close
study it is difficult to trace them; we have therefore marked their
course in red on the map of the town.
Five of the present gates of the town, namely, _Porta Eburnea_, _Porta
Susanna_, _Porta Augusta_, _Porta Mandola_, and _Porta Marzia_ are the
genuine old gates of the Etruscan town, and although the Romans altered
them a little, enlarging them from below, a great part of their masonry
is the work of the Etruscans, and from three to four thousand years old.
Of these gates, the _Porta Augusta_ is familiar to every one, as it is
one of the most remarkable and impressive features of the town. Rome and
the Renaissance have combined to give it a fantastic and a fascinating
appearance, even as these same influences have made a miniature museum
of the now disused _Porta Marzia_. Strangely enough the work of the
Etruscan masons is far better preserved than any which followed them,
and the great blocks of travertine neatly placed (as some suppose
without mortar) on one another, are easily distinguishable from those
built above and below them. Perugia always felt a certain respect for
her oldest walls, and even in the fifteenth century, when she was in her
prime, and bristling with new towers and churches, the work of the dead
people was respected. In 1475 we read that a law was passed for the
preservation of the Etruscan walls, as "they were very marvellous, and
worthy to be preserved into all eternity."
Beyond the city walls nothing remains of the Etruscans at Perugia,
except what is found in their tombs. That the town was rich in temples
and other beauties we may gather, but these, together with the houses,
were
[Illustration: MEDIÆVAL STAIRCASE IN THE VIA BARTOLO]
destroyed when Augustus took the town in 40 B.C., and when her devoted
citizen, Caius Cestius, set fire to his native city, to cover her
disgrace. Of the Roman occupation, which covered a period of many
centuries, no trace remains in Perugia. The present town is therefore a
monument of the purest mediæval building crowned by some rare and
beautiful bits of Renaissance architecture.
But before entering into a description of the city, it may be well to
insist once more on the fact already made plain in our history, that if
men made Perugia, men also marred her.[44] The impatience of man is
everywhere discernible in her streets her palaces and churches, and only
the latest buildings have their towers and stones intact. The towers of
S. Pietro, S. Domenico, and others have had their tops all truncated by
popes, by nobles, and by people in moments of their fury or their
vengeance. The city was built for warfare and defence, and not for
beauty, luxury and peace. In these comparatively quiet times of ours we
go about in foreign towns and look for art, and art alone. We seem to
forget that art is but a small affair--a little landmark in the history
of nations. There is an art in Umbria, an art so pure, so sweet, so
tender that thinking of it we may easily forget the history of her men,
or, if remembering, we seem to dream a dual dream. The art of Perugia
was, maybe, the outcome of her almost fanatical religion, but the wars
of her inhabitants have always been her life-blood. The very first
walls were built for defence, or, as some say, to store the crops, the
corn and hay, in; and the houses of the earliest mediæval town were also
built purely with a view to personal safety and protection. Bonazzi
gives a curious account of the growth of the city, and the almost
fantastic fashion in which its inhabitants hammered its houses together,
and then proceeded to live in them. "There were," he says, describing
the town in about 1100 and 1200, "few monuments or buildings of
importance up to the sixteenth century. The houses were all on one
floor, the sun barely reached them; some of them were of stone and
bricks, but the greater part of mud, clay and straw. Hence incessant and
considerable fires, increased by the lack of chimneys. And they were so
inconveniently arranged that often eight or ten persons slept in a
single room. A motto, a saint, some small sign took the place of our
modern numbers, and the lamp which burned in front of the many shrines
served to light the streets at nightfall. There were no flags or
pavements then upon the streets, which took their names from the
churches or houses of the nobles which happened to look down upon them;
these were narrow and tortuous, simply because they grew without any
method or premeditation, they were horrible to behold as all the dirt
was thrown into them, and because of the herds of swine which passed
along them, grunting and squeaking as they went."[45] Bonazzi next goes
on to trace the topography of the mediæval town, which was much smaller
than the present one, and lacking in large monuments. There was no Corso
in those days, no Piazza Sopramuro, no Palazzo Pubblico. Where the
present cathedral now stands there was only the little old church of S.
Lorenzo and a big and beautiful tower with a cock on the top of it. The
towers of Perugia were a most marked feature of her architecture and,
indeed, in old writings she is always mentioned as _Turrena_ because of
them.[46] "About this time," says Bonazzi, "another great work began in
our city, which was continued into the following centuries. The feudal
lords who came in from their own places in the country to inhabit the
town, brought with them each the tradition of his own strong tower in
the abandoned castle. Great therefore was the competition between them
of who should build the highest, and this each noble did, not so much
for decoration as for a means of defence and of offence, and according
to the amount of power possessed by himself or by his neighbour.... In
the shadow of the massive feudal towers," Bonazzi writes in another
place, "like grass which is shaded by giant plants, rose the little
houses of the poor. The more elegant houses were of terra-cotta (bricks)
without plaster or mortar, and their windows were arched in the Roman
fashion.[47] After 600 they were roofed with flat tiles in imitation of
the Lombards."
The city gates were always closed at nightfall, and some of the streets
were blocked by means of huge iron chains which stretched across the
road, preventing the passage of horse or carts, from one house to
another. One can still see the hooks and holes belonging to these
somewhat barbaric defences in some of the more solid houses of Perugia;
and in the neighbouring town of Spello the chains themselves have been
left hanging to one of the houses. In 1276 we read that the law of
closing the city gates was abolished, but a little later on it was again
found necessary to barricade the town at nightfall, and during some of
the fights between the nobles in 1400 and in 1500 we hear of the
difficulties which one or the other party had to combat in the "chains
across their path."
Strange scattered relics of this nest of mediæval man linger and come
down to us even in the nineteenth century. Amongst these are the _porte
del mortuccio_, or doors of the dead. All the best houses had these
doors alongside of their house-doors, but they are bricked up now and
quite disused, and might easily be ignored in passing through the
streets. The _porta del mortuccio_ is tall, narrow, and pointed at the
top; it is, indeed, just wide enough to pass a coffin through. It seems
that in very early days, even so far back as the Etruscans, there was a
superstition that through the door where Death had passed, Death must
enter in again. By building a separate door, which was only used by the
dead, the spirit of Death passed out with the corpse, the narrow door
was closely locked behind it, and the safety of the living was secured,
as far as the living can secure, from Death. Other charming details of
the mediæval city are the house doors. They are built of travertine or
_pietra serena_, and have little garlands of flowers and fruit bound
with ribbons, and delicate friezes above them. Some of them have very
beautiful Latin inscriptions, which show a strong religious sentiment.
We quote a few of them here: _Janua coeli_ (door of heaven, over a
church); _Pulchra janua ubi honesta domus_ (beautiful the door of the
house which is honest); _A Deo cuncta--a domino omnia_ (all things from
God); _Ora ut vivas et Deo vives_ (pray to live and thou shalt live to
God); _Prius mori quam fædari_ (die rather than be disgraced); _In
parvis quies_ (in small things peace); _Solicitudo mater divitiarum_
(carefulness is the mother of riches); _Ecce spes I.H.S. mea semper_
(Christ always my hope).
Over one or two of the doorways in Perugia you will find almost
byzantine bits of tracery with figures of unknown animals--beasts of the
Apocalypse--carved in grey travertine all round them. One of the very
earliest bits of mediæval building is the fragment of a door of this
sort, belonging to the first palace of the _Priori_, which is now almost
buried in the more modern buildings of the sixteenth century. There is
another amusing procession of beasts over a gateway below S. Ercolano.
These odd animal friezes were probably first designed for some sort of
closed market where beasts were sold, and the old Pescheria has
medallions of _lasche_ on its walls.
As for the ways and manners of the people who inhabited this mediæval
city, Ciatti and other writers supply us with plenty of fantastic
information:
"Perugia lies beneath the sign of the Lion and of the Virgin," Ciatti
says in his account, which is as usual, unlike the account of anybody
else, and highly entertaining, "and from this cause it comes that the
city is called _Leonina_[48] and _Sanguinia_, and the habits of the
Perugians are neither luxurious nor effeminate. Like those of whom
Siderius writes, they came forth strong in war, they delighted in fish,
were humorous in speech, swift in counsel, and loved the law of the
Pope.... The women," he continues with a certain monastic indifference
to female charm, "were not beautiful, although Siderius calls them
elegant;[49] the genius of Perugia was ever more inclined to the
exercise of arms than the cultivation of beauty, and many famous
captains have brought fame to this their native city through their brave
deeds. In Tuscany the Sienese have the reputation of being frivolous,
the Pisans astute and malicious, the Florentines slow and serious, and
the Perugians ferocious and of a warlike spirit."
Concerning the clothes and the feasts of this combative race of people
who lived for warfare rather than for delight, we hear that they were
accustomed to wear a great deal of fur, the nobles using pelisses of
martin and of sable, the poor, sheep or foxes' skins. The fur tippets
still worn by the canons of cathedrals in Italian towns in winter are
probably a remnant of these days. For the rest an adaptation of the
Roman tunic was perhaps worn by the men, whilst the women kept to the
tradition of the Etruscan headgear. "Victuals," Bonazzi tells us, "were
of a coarse description, more lard and pepper was eaten in those days,
than meat and coffee in ours. But at the feasts of the priests and
nobles an incredible quantity of exquisite viands was consumed; great
animals stuffed with dainties were cooked entire, and monstrous pasties
served at table, from which, when the knife touched them, a living and
jovial dwarf jumped out upon the table, unexpected and to the great
delight of all the company."
* * * * *
But from the Age of Darkness men awoke both in their manners and in
their buildings. Perugia of the Middle Ages shook the sleep from off her
heavy eyelids, and with that passionate impulse towards Light which was
perhaps the secret of the Renaissance, she too strove toward the
Beautiful, and in a hurried, fevered fashion, she too decked herself
with fairer things than castle towers and hovels. The fourteenth and the
fifteenth centuries were, as we know, the Age of Gold in later art, and
Perugia, in spite of all her tumults, in spite of her feuds, and even
her passionate religious abstinences, woke with the waking world. Most
of her churches, and most of those monuments which mark her as a point
for travellers, date from that period. "And at that time," says the
chronicler Fabretti, "there was so great a building going on in
different parts of the city that neither mortar nor stones nor masons
could have been procured even for money, unless a number of Lombards had
come in to build. And they were building the palace of the _Priori_
(Palazzo Pubblico), they were building S. Lorenzo, Santa Maria dei
Servi, S. Domenico, S. Francesco, the houses of Messer Raniero ... the
tower of the Palazzo, and numerous other houses of private citizens all
at that same time."
But it was not merely a love of beauty which prompted the Perugians to
this sudden departure in the way of architecture; the spirit of the
great saint of Umbria had much to do with it. In Perugian chronicles and
histories we find a strange silence about the influence of S. Francis on
a city which was only separated by some fourteen miles from Assisi. Yet
it is not possible that so strong a force as that of this man's
preaching could have been kept outside the walls of the neighbour town,
and Ciatti declares that at one time nearly a third part of the
inhabitants of Perugia took the Franciscan habit. In 1500 and 1600 there
were more than fifty convents in Perugia, many of which had sixty to
eighty inhabitants, but that was during the rule of the popes. Of the
great period of building in the fourteenth century, which included many
fine churches and convents, the buildings of the people and not of the
priests remain intact. The splendid Palazzo Pubblico and Pisano's
fountain in the square belong to this period. But because the work of
the Renaissance is so conspicuous and charming we have described it in
another place, and in our description of the town have lingered rather
over the fragments of the Etruscan and the mediæval city.
As it would be impossible in this small book to give anything beyond a
cursory sketch of all the different buildings of the town, we have
decided to deal with the details of some of the principal ones, leaving
the rest for the discovery of those whose leisure and intelligence will
always make such exploration a delight. There is no lack of excellent
guide-books to Perugia. Of the fuller and rarer ones we would mention
those of Siepi and Orsini and the more modern one of Count Rossi Scotti.
These are in Italian. Murray's last edition of "Central Italy" contains
clear and excellent general information, and there are several small
local guides--the best of these by Lupatelli--which can be had in the
hotel. No one who really desires to study the town should fail to read
the fascinating books of its best lover, Annibale Mariotti; and the
works of Conestabile and Vermiglioli are invaluable for students. All
these can be had in the public library of the town where there is a
pleasant quiet room in which to study them, and the excessive courtesy
of whose head--Count Vincenzo Ansidei--makes research an easy pleasure
there.
The topography of Perugia is simple: "The entire city," says Mariotti,
"since the very earliest days, was divided into five quarters or
_rioni_, which from the centre, that is to say, the highest point of the
town, and with as gentle an incline as the condition of the ground
allows, stretch out in five different directions like so many sunbeams
across the mountain side. These gates are: _Porta Sole_ to the east,
_Porta Susanna_ to the west (formerly called Trasimene), _Porta S.
Angelo_ (formerly Porta Augusta) to the north, _Porta S. Pietro_ to the
south, and _Porta Eburnea_ to the southwest. Each of these separate
gates bears its own armorial design and colour. Porta Sole is white and
bears a sun with rays; Porta Susanna blue, with a chain; Porta S. Angelo
red, with a branch of arbutus; Porta S. Pietro yellow, with a balance,
and Porta Eburnea green, with a pilgrim's staff."
Owing to the extraordinary situation of the town there are hardly any
level squares or streets. The two considerable flat open spaces on
either side of the Prefettura, the site of the Prefettura itself and of
the hotel Brufani are artificial spaces, the result of the demolition of
Paul III.'s fortress (see chap. vi.). We imagine that many intelligent
persons have passed through the comfortable hotel of Perugia not
realising at all the artificial nature of the ground on which it stands.
The Corso and the Piazza di S. Lorenzo may be said to be the heart of
the town; its pulse beats a little lower down in the Piazza Sopramuro
where fruit and vegetables are sold and where there is a perpetual
market-day.[50] The other big open square is the Piazza d'Armi, on a
lower level of the hill and to the south of the town. There the cattle
fair is held on Tuesdays, and there the beautiful white Umbrian oxen,
with skins that are finer than the cattle of the plain, and the grey
Umbrian pigs, and tall Umbrian men and girls can be seen in all their
glory. Here too is the convent of S. Giuliana with its splendid
cloisters and little Gothic campanile, and here above all do the
soldiers of Perugia practice their bands, their horses, and their bugles
every morning.
There are three things lacking in Perugia, as there are naturally in all
hill-cities, and these are gardens, carriages, and running water. But
all these wants have been delightfully overcome by the inhabitants. As a
matter of fact, there are plenty of hidden gardens, behind the houses in
the town, but in almost every house you will see that iron sockets or
rings have been fastened to the walls below the windows, and in
[Illustration: PIAZZA SOPRAMURO, SHOWING THE PALACE OF THE CAPITANO DEL
POPOLO AND THE BUILDINGS OF THE FIRST UNIVERSITY OF PERUGIA]
these, pots of geraniums, daisies, and carnations are hung and tended
with excessive care. Some of the better palaces or convents have stone
brackets in the shape of shells for window gardens, and even in the dusk
of grim December days the old stone walls seem green and living. The
lack of carriages is really only felt in winter when the inhabitants
seem to fall for the while asleep, leaving the streets to assume their
mediæval character, and to be swept by winter hurricanes; in spring and
summer the place is gay enough; indeed the Corso is a very good specimen
of Umbrian Piccadilly on a fine May evening, and there are plenty of
carriages in the tourist season. But go into any palace of Perugia and
you will find the sedan chairs of our grandfathers ready for instant
use, proving that carriages are quite a modern innovation in the town.
The need of running water is, of course, the most serious point about so
big and prosperous a city, and a running stream to turn a paper mill
would heal more ills than all her pictures and her wide calm view. The
great rushing stream of the Tiber down at the foot of the hill seems
like a sort of solemn mockery to people who have only wells and a little
river from the hill to drink from and to wash their linen in. We have
realized this on winter nights when the Tiber was out in flood in the
moonlight down below our windows, and small drops freezing, one by one,
on Pisano's fountain behind us in the square.
Yet the town is prosperous. Its inhabitants and those of the commune
have increased by some six thousand since the days of its first
prosperity. Commerce, it is true, seems somewhat at a standstill. There
is the commerce of travellers, which is by no means inconsiderable; and
there is the commerce of Mind. This last Perugia has always had since
the days when she grew powerful, and the University of Perugia has
played a constant and important part throughout her annals. It was
founded in the beginning of the fourteenth century, and its management,
like other things in the city, was chiefly in the hands of the people
and their representatives, the _Priori_. Five _Savi_, one from each
_rione_, were told off to regulate its affairs and to elect its
professors. Urban VIII. brought it under the management of the Church,
but this did not in any way alter its first rules and laws. We hear that
"the Emperor Charles IV. bestowed upon the University all those
distinctions which were enjoyed by the most celebrated universities of
the Empire," and Napoleon confirmed these and added much to the
magnificence of Perugia's university. It was during the Napoleonic rule
that the college was transferred from its old quarters in the Piazza
Sopramuro to the vast new buildings at Montemorcino. Her three main
branches of study are jurisprudence, science, and theology. Several of
the popes studied in Perugia. S. Thomas Aquinas lectured here, and many
distinguished men of science and of law passed through their first
schools in the Umbrian hill town. The two great lawyers Baldo Baldeschi
and Bartolo Alfani were students in the University of Perugia, and
Alberico Gentile, who afterwards lectured in Oxford, studied here at the
University. The affairs of war were never allowed to interfere with
those of the mind, and we hear that a guarantee of safe conduct was
given to any scholar who came here from a distance.
The arts of peace, such as the manufacture of wool and silken stuffs,
were known in the middle ages in spite of the want of water (the hand
and foot looms of Perugia are almost prehistoric in their simplicity),
and in 1297 we hear of the magistrates of Perugia sending an embassy
into Lombardy to fetch two friars thence who should teach their
townsfolk the secrets of weaving. This art was zealously kept up for
many years, but finally it fell into decay. A branch of it has lately
been revived by a Milanese lady, and thanks to her efforts we are again
able to buy the strange flame-patterned carpets which we find on the
altars of so many of the older Umbrian churches.
* * * * *
Except in the Corso, life seems very quiet in Perugia. Yet though there
is poverty, there is none of that feeling of decayed splendour, of
arrested magnificence and luxury which we feel in so many cities of
Italy. The Perugians were probably never very luxurious. There are one
or two beautiful old palaces, but they are plain to look at, and the
palaces of the nobles had a bad time of it and were constantly pulled to
bits as their different owners were driven into the country. The town is
a town of a strong people; it is dignified and peaceful. When the wind
is not battering about its roofs and howling through its narrow streets
one becomes aware of an extraordinary silence.
And in that silence the questions rise--one cannot stifle them: Where
are the _Beccherini_ and where are the _Raspanti_? Are the Baglioni
really dead, and the Oddi, where are they? And the Flagellants and the
_Penitenti_--have even their ghosts departed? Will not a pope ride in at
the gates with his nephews and his cardinals and take up peaceful
quarters in the grim Canonica? Will not some warlike Abbot come and
batter down the church towers to build himself a palace? Will no
procession pass us with a banner of Bonfigli, and women wailing that the
plague should be removed?...
The snow falls silently upon the roads in winter. No blood of nobles
stains it. In May all Umbria is green with crops. No _condottiere_
comes to trample down the corn. But high upon her hill-top Perugia
stands as she stood then, and in her silence seems to wait for something
yet to come.
* * * * *
Before closing this chapter we would once again repeat that no one with
a few hours' leisure should forbear to wander round the outer walls of
the town before leaving Perugia. With only one break: that which is
formed by the deep ravine (or _bulagnjo_ in the local dialect) between
Porta Sant Antonio and Porta S. Angelo, one can walk on quite good paths
and roads under the outer walls of the entire city. The Via della
Cuparella is a pleasant lane reached by passing out through Porta
Eburnea. It skirts under the mediæval and Etruscan walls to the west of
the town and re-enters the city again a little below Porta Susanna. This
lane is one of the most sheltered corners in Perugia, and we have
wandered up and down it in the early days of January, and found the
sleepy lizards basking on its banks and yellow aconites in all the
furrows. The trees bud early there; their young green shimmers like a
vision of immortal youth against the grim walls of the mediæval and
Etruscan city up beyond.
Another charming walk is that along the eastern side of the town,
passing out through Porta S. Ercolano and through the Corso away along
the broad high-road to the convent of Monte Luce, which is quite one of
the most fascinating buildings of Perugia, with its front of white and
rosy marble, its court-yard and rose window, and the splendid block of
its nunnery walls covering the crest of the hill behind the church. The
convent was built early in the thirteenth century on the site, some say,
of an Etruscan temple dedicated to the Goddess Feronia, but more
probably in the sacred wood or _lucus_ from which it derived its name.
It was one of the most prosperous convents of the country, and Mariotti
gives a delightful account of a visit paid by the great Farnese Pope,
Paul III., to its Abbess. The Pope, it seems, gave himself the
permission to visit the nuns, who received him, "marvelling," as the
most learned nun of her day relates, "that the Vicar of God on earth
should so far humiliate himself as to visit such vile servants, as we
were." The Pope came into the church and took the seat prepared for him
in the choir, "all of his own accord, without being helped by anybody,
and like a meek and gentle lamb ... and being seated, he said to the
sisters, 'Come everyone of you and kiss my foot.'" Then the Abbess and
the sisters kissed the feet of the Pope. A long conversation and
exchange of compliments followed, and finally at sundown the Pope
departed, "very greatly edified."
[Illustration: CONVENT OF MONTE LUCE]
From Monte Luce one road winds down to the Tiber, passing under the
charming villa of Count Rossi Scotti, and another back into the city,
first through a strange row of wooden booths which are opened on the
feast day of Monte Luce (August 15th), and then on through the walls of
Mommaggiore's fortress and back into the town through Porta S. Antonio.
* * * * *
But it is not possible to describe all the details of a place which,
like all fair things, should be explored to be enjoyed. The discovery of
its hidden lanes, its little wayside villas, and its churches must be
left as it was left to the present writers, who never will forget the
tramps they took in the brown winter twilight, the drives on warm spring
afternoons when honeysuckle scented all the hedges, and the strange
excited feelings which possessed them when they found the hidden wayside
house or chapel, which had no written record to tell them who had built
it, and nothing but its own Perugian charm to endear it to them, and to
give it history.
CHAPTER V
_Palazzo Pubblico, The Fountain, and the Duomo_
In Professor Freeman's small sketch of Perugia he says very truly that
the most striking points of the city--that is to say, of the Mediæval
and Renaissance period--are those which are gathered together in the
_Piazza di San Lorenzo_.
The whole atmosphere of the square is unique and impressive: individual
as are the piazzas of the largest and the smallest towns in Italy which
have battled for their independence throughout the course of centuries.
The buildings have been changed about, burnt, battered and rebuilt, but
the spirit of the middle ages has never really left them. Sitting on the
steps of the Duomo we seem to feel it creep up round our feet telling us
stories of a past which is immortal. It was here that the people of
Perugia fought and judged, preached and repented, loved maybe, and most
certainly hated. It was in this little pulpit above our heads that S.
Bernardino preached, and saw the books of necromancy and the false hair
of the ladies burned; here that the _Podestà_ and the people received
ambassadors with deeds of submission from terrified neighbour towns. On
the spikes of the railing round the fountain one set of nobles stuck the
heads of others whom they hated, whom they slaughtered; and down those
steps of the palazzo opposite, the great procession of the _Priori_
came on days of solemn ceremony, and up through the dark gateway of the
Canonica the Pope and all his cardinals passed in when they arrived from
Rome. Truly the spirit of the past history is not dead. It is painfully
and supremely living. The Piazza di S. Lorenzo on a December night with
windstorms hurrying the sleet across its great grim walls is more
absolutely filled with the _terribilità_ of humanity than anything we
ever realised.
One strange fact to trace in the square is the splendid preservation of
the municipal buildings as compared to the almost ruinous condition of
those of the church. The strife between the people and the papacy is
carved as it were upon the very hearts of the monuments, and whereas the
palace of the people has remained comparatively perfect--a beautiful
finished building which delights the eye--the palace of the popes has
been battered and abused almost to destruction at the hand of man, of
fires and of time. Almost the only lovely detail which still clings to
the face of the cathedral is the small pulpit whence the saint of Siena
preached to the people; and this in itself is a symbolical fact, for it
was the power of a single human _soul_ which, for an instant tamed, if
it could not quell, the passion of the Perugians. The power of the
church, as church, never really mastered them. Paul III. mastered them,
but he did so in the character of a warrior and tyrant.
As far as position goes the cathedral entirely dominates the municipal
palace. It stands so high that in any distant view of the city it seems
to soar above the other buildings. As we have seen before, the Perugians
had but little patience with architectural or æsthetic matters. "They
always preferred Mars to the Muse," says Bonazzi. Some grim and enduring
respect kept their hands off their municipal palace when once it had
been completed to their satisfaction, they
[Illustration: PIAZZA DI S. LORENZO, SEEN FROM UNDER THE ARCHES OF THE
PALAZZO PUBBLICO]
took the precaution of putting a large iron fence round their fountain,
but their cathedral suffered. They were zealous during the time of their
prosperity to have a large and splendid church, but they never found
time to finish or adorn it. They left the brickwork naked, hoping for
some chance fight to furnish them with marbles for it, and in 1385 they
were able to secure those which had been prepared for the cathedral of
Arezzo. But they did not keep them. Pellini gives a weird account of
the bringing of these marbles. "These things being accomplished," he
says, referring to a very inhuman siege and conquest over the
unfortunate Arezzo, "some outward sign of the acknowledged victory was
necessary; so many marble stones were brought back to Perugia with some
paintings upon them which had been formerly in the cathedral of the
city; and the oxen and carts which brought them hither, with all the men
who worked to bring them, were dressed out by our city with red cloth;
but of those said stones, although they were certainly put up outside
the walls of our cathedral, no sign at all remains." A little later
Pellini explains their loss, for the people of Arezzo got back their
marbles. "They started on their journey back to Arezzo," says the
faithful historian, who will acknowledge no possible conquest of his own
city, "and were put up on a part of their church where they may now be
seen, white and red in colour, and very lovely to behold."
Throughout the history of Perugia, in the fifteenth and sixteenth
centuries, we hear of fights and skirmishes in the square, but it was
always the cathedral and not the palace which was turned into a
fortress. In 1489 one of the endless fights between the Baglioni and the
Oddi occurred, and the cathedral became a castle. Guido Baglioni arrived
in hot haste from Spello, and proceeded to turn the Oddi out of Perugia.
"Girolamo della Penna," says Villani, "deserted his brother Agamemnon
and joined the Signori Baglioni, taking with him Silvio del Abate and
others, and, together with the Baglioni, they took possession of S.
Lorenzo, placed artillery there, and fortified the church, its loggia,
and its roof in every way they knew of." The Duomo, on this occasion,
proved such an excellent stronghold, that the Oddi outside were entirely
discomfited, and had to abandon the siege and retire once more to the
country. Another remarkable instance of fighting between the two
pugnacious families is given by Fabretti, which illustrates, moreover,
the slight power possessed by the Pope at that period. "At the end of
October 1488 there was a great fight in the Piazza degli Aratri, and
then the Baglioni collected in the piazza, and an ever-increasing throng
of supporters assembled round them. And on that same day the brother of
the Pope (Innocent VIII.) arrived, and as he passed by the piazza the
people called out, '_Chiesa, chiesa_.' He was accompanied to the steps
of the Palazzo Pubblico by Guido and Grifonetto Baglioni, who hoped that
he might manage to arrange matters. But the _Priori_ looked out of the
windows above them, and seeing the Baglioni in the street below, they
began to throw down large and heavy stones in the hopes of wounding
Guido Baglioni. The hubbub continued with renewed force, and only at
dusk did stillness fall upon the city."
PALAZZO PUBBLICO.
Having glanced thus rapidly over the general historical interest of the
piazza, it may be well to describe the buildings separately, taking the
_Palazzo Pubblico_ first. Anyone who comes to Perugia, even for a single
afternoon, will naturally hurry to this point and spend an hour or two
in the Cambio and Pinacoteca; but if a little time remains he should
wander further through its public corridors and halls and archives, its
council chambers, library, and prisons. All these are gathered together
with a certain indifference to the first lines of architecture in the
shell of the massive old buildings, and by penetrating these mysterious
regions one seems better able to understand the spirit of historical
Perugia. The iron force of the
[Illustration: REMAINS OF THE FIRST PALAZZO DEI PRIORI IN THE VIA DEL
VERZARO]
people's law--that force which alone kept head above the breakers of
foreign wars and civil discord in the past--slumbers, but is not dead,
in the halls where it once reigned. A hum of modern life, a host of
modern busts and portraits now clash with, now mellow, the sombre walls
and passages. At the other end of the Corso there is a grand new
Prefettura, where the Prefect of all Umbria manages Umbrian matters,
but the pulse of the old city beats on in its old veins. The _Priori_,
with their golden chains and crimson gowns, have vanished, but the men
and women of the land are pretty much the same. They wear big collars of
foxes' fur on their long winter cloaks, just as they did in mediæval
times, and they bring their claims of business into their first house of
business, they swarm and hum within the corridors, and trample up and
down the wide stone staircase with dignified determination stamped upon
their features. In the rooms to which they go the clerks sit writing
steadily amidst their piles of archives and of blue-books. Few probably
of all these people know, and fewer care, about the Peruginos and
Bonfiglis in the rooms above; for the natural man or woman desires to
pray before his saints and not to pay to stare at them.
We hear that the present palace was finished in the middle of the
fourteenth century. Long before that date there had been a public hall
where the rulers of the city met to discuss and settle its affairs.[51]
But this building was comparatively small and cramped, and the new
meeting-house was undertaken with superb disregard to expense. A rough
calculation from the many bills shows us that upwards of 14,041 _libre_
was spent on the building of it, but it took nearly one hundred and
thirty years to build, and the fact that it was finished at different
periods--a bit being added at intervals down the Corso--may account for
the waving and irregular line of the east front, which is one of its
most marked features.
The first architects employed were natives of Perugia: Fra Bevignate and
Messers Giacomo di Servadio and Giovanello di Benvenuto. The original
plan of the building was probably a perfect square, reaching from its
present north front down to where the great door now stands. One should
examine the building from the back in order to understand it fully. At
one time we hear that Lombard workmen were called in to assist in the
"very heavy labour," which, perhaps, gives a certain Lombard look to
parts of the brickwork round the windows.
The citizens took a vast interest in the erection of their public
palace, and allowed many private houses and even churches to be pulled
down in order to make room for it. As for the decoration of the
cathedral, so also for that of the palace, a neighbouring town was
ransacked to furnish ornaments, and the unhappy Bettona was stripped of
marbles to supply the magnificent _Priori_ with their pillars and their
friezes. Different portions of the huge edifice were given to the
principal city guilds to decorate, and it was probably a spirit of
emulation in these societies which produced the costly beauties of the
separate parts. The chapel was decorated by the Merchants' Guild, and
also the principal door, which was dedicated to St Louis of Toulouse. It
is a beautiful piece of work, rich and lovely in its smallest detail,
and carved in the grey stone called _pietra serena_, which always looks
a little cold and dusty, like the fur on a grey mole's back, but which
lends itself to a certain attractive style of polished carving peculiar
to old doorways in Perugia.[52] Through it one passes into an immense
hall, from which a staircase leads into the rooms of the palace above.
In former times there were no steps, and persons of distinction and of
wealth rode up on horseback to the council chambers.
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
_Podestà_ 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 _Podestà_ 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 Podestà 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 _Podestà_" (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 _Podestà_ 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
_Podestà_, 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'hôte 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 là da lui, più 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 _Pietà_ 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 _Podestà_ 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 _Podestà'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.
[Illustration: PORTA MARZIA]
S. ERCOLANO.
The church of S. Ercolano is built straight against a part of the first
Etruscan walls on the spot where the saint is supposed to have been
decapitated by Totila. It is a strange little church, octagonal and very
tall and narrow. The first church is said to have been built as early as
1200 and out of the remains of an old amphitheatre, or, as some say, the
temple to Mars, which originally stood on the site. Its early history
is, however, somewhat hazy. In 1600 the church was finally rebuilt by
Bishop Comitoli, who at once looked about him for some suitable tomb in
which to place the body of S. Ercolano, which had hitherto had such a
very unquiet history. It happened that just at that time a splendid
sarcophagus was dug up under the little chapel of S. Orfito at the foot
of Monte Pacciano. Six skulls and a wooden cross, together with certain
legends connected with some early Christian martyrs and a chapel in the
woods, seemed to prove that the sarcophagus had formerly held their
"holy bones." The pious bishop Comitoli very reasonably concluded that
"Heaven was ministering to his need," so he took the sarcophagus and put
it on the altar of his new church, and in it he laid the body of the
saint. The translation of the body from its old abode in the Duomo was
marked by a magnificent ceremony. The Bishop got up into the pulpit in
the square, which had never been used since the days of S. Bernardino,
and thence preached a sermon on the merits of their patron Saint to the
people of Perugia, who came in thousands to attend him.
S. Ercolano, who is purely a local saint like S. Costanzo, plays an
important part in the history of Perugia; he may, indeed, be called the
presiding genius of the city. His history is often confused with that of
a most obscure and highly mythical person
[Illustration: CHURCH OF S. ERCOLANO AND ARCHWAY IN THE ETRUSCAN WALL]
of the same name who was martyred at Perugia in very early days and
devoured by wild beasts in the amphitheatre. The shining point in the
life of the second S. Ercolano is the part that he played in the defence
of his city during the siege of Totila. This has endeared him to the
hearts of the citizens, and his name is as familiar to the street boys
of Perugia as that of S. Ubaldo to the children of Gubbio. Unlike the
saint of Gubbio, however, S. Ercolano failed in his diplomacy.
Barbarossa listened to the prayers of Ubaldo and departed from Gubbio;
Totila took Perugia and beheaded its Bishop, and the Gothic soldiers cut
off his head on a ledge of the Etruscan walls where the present church
now stands to commemorate his martyrdom.
All sorts of strange ceremonies and religious festivities grew up round
the worship of this beloved saint, for the Perugians were as religious
as they were warlike, and they delighted in pious displays. Indeed, one
old proverb describes the _credo_ of the city as consisting of three
P's: _Processione_, _Persecuzione_, _Protezione_. There were countless
rules and regulations concerning the processions of the various saints.
Some had a double procession, or one which extended itself over two
days. On the first of these, the procession started from the house of
the Saint and proceeded to the Duomo, and on the second the order was
reversed. In the case of S. Ercolano his statue was carried on the first
day from his house with a wooden head upon its shoulders. On the second
day it returned to its abode with a silver head in commemoration of his
martyrdom. So when anybody in Perugia lied or was deceitful, he was
described as having two faces like the blessed Ercolano!
In Monaci's collection of the Uffizi Dramatici dei Disciplinati dell'
Umbria we find many of the great tragic songs or plays sung by the
Flagellants of Perugia, and some of the finest of these are addressed
to S. Ercolano, who, as we have said, exercised a peculiar influence
over the minds and consciences of the Perugians. The outside world made
great sport of this almost infantine side to the character of the
Perugians, and on one occasion the Florentine painter, Buffalmacco, made
use of it in combination with their other worship, namely, their love of
fishes, to play a rather hazardous practical joke upon them. Vasari
recounts the history at length:--
"Now the Perugians," he says, "gave Buffalmacco an order to paint
in the Piazza of S. Ercolano a portrait of that saint, who is the
patron and was the bishop of their city. The price being arranged,
a scaffolding of wood covered with matting was put up for him in
order that none might watch him at his painting; and this being
done he set to work upon it. But ten days had not passed by before
everyone who happened to walk that way began to ask when the
picture would be finished, as though such things as this could be
cast in a mould, and at last the thing became a nuisance to
Buffalmacco. Therefore, having finished his work and being wearied
of so much importunity, he decided within himself to be quietly
avenged on the impatience of these people, and he succeeded; for
the work being finished, he showed it to them before uncovering it,
and they expressed themselves absolutely satisfied. But when the
Perugians expressed their desire at once to pull down the
scaffolding, Buffalmacco told them to let it stand for another two
days because he desired it to retouch certain points for his own
satisfaction, and thus it was settled. Then Buffalmacco went back
to that spot where round the head of his saint he had painted a
large golden aureole, and as was the custom in those times, with a
high relief of plaster he made him a crown, or more properly
speaking, a garland, and wound it round and round his head, and all
of _lasche_. And this being done he one day paid his landlord and
returned to Florence. Then as the days passed by, and the Perugians
failed to see the painter moving about as was his custom, they
asked the landlord what might have become of him, and hearing that
he had returned to Florence, they immediately hurried to uncover
the picture, and finding their saint crowned only with a wreath of
fishes, they immediately carried the news to the governor of their
city and then, with hottest haste, sent horsemen in pursuit of
Buffalmacco; but in vain, for he had returned to Florence with the
best speed he might. Therefore they decided to have the crown of
fishes removed from the head of the saint and the aureole replaced
by one of their own painters, and in future to speak as much evil
as they could, both of Buffalmacco himself and of the Florentines
in general."[66]
The story of Buffalmacco, the saint, and the crown of fishes is comic
enough, but the square in which the scene described above was acted
witnessed the deepest human tragedy that the annals of Perugia have
preserved for us. It was just outside the church of S. Ercolano that
Grifonetto Baglioni got his death-wound. Driven back from Porta S.
Pietro with only a few men, he prepared to keep the gate of "Sancto
Ercolano" and there, hopeless of anything save death, he awaited the
assault of Gianpaolo. It was here in this place that he fell. Did
Raphael come down the street along with the other terror-stricken people
after the fight was over? Did he, with the quiet eyes of the artist,
look on this passionate scene of love and death? Was it Grifonetto that
he painted later in his picture--"Grifonetto gracious in his person." We
cannot tell; we only know as a fact that the "Entombment," now in the
Borghese villa at Rome, was ordered by Atalanta Baglioni, and in a
letter from Raphael concerning it we see that he was acquainted with her
personally. It has been suggested to us by a Perugian who is wise in art
and history, that Raphael painted a portrait of Grifonetto not in the
figure of Christ as one might naturally suppose, but in the more
prominent figure of the vigorous young man who supports the feet of the
dead Saviour. The whole attitude of this figure is one of dauntless
energy and courage such as one would expect to see in the son of two
such cousins as Atalanta and Grifone Baglioni.
* * * * *
From the steps of S. Ercolano one of the only broad and comparatively
even streets of the town--the Corso Cavour--leads to the main road
through the Porta Romana, down the steep hill to the Tiber and across
the plain to join the road to Rome. Most of the history of Perugia has
come and gone along this road; it was here that the popes made their
triumphal entries, here probably that the barbarians forced a passage,
and here, even in our own days, that Perugia suffered a final and a
painful siege from Rome. It was on the of 20th of June 1859 that the
Swiss guard fought its way along it, burning down the houses and beating
back as they advanced the ill-organised body of inhabitants. Strange
thrilling details of that day have been told to us by people who were
present. One inhabitant, a mere boy then, was up with his parents at the
top of their house in the Corso Cavour, but smelling smoke in the shop
below they crept downstairs to see what might be happening, and found
the Pope's guard foraging amongst their medicine bottles. The mother and
boy fled back up the stairs, but the father was caught and carried out
into the street to be shot. Then the small boy leaned from the window,
covering his face with a scarf, and pleaded so passionately for his
father's life that the Swiss soldiers spared him and passed to more
profitable pursuits further up in the town. (We hear that they were
filled with so great a lust for blood that they even wrung the neck of a
tame falcon in the Piazza Sopramuro!) Another gentleman who had come in
with the Pope's guard gave us some details of the siege, and amongst
them he told us of a certain priest at S. Pietro, who, thinking to kill
the leader of the troops, shot at the drum-major, whose magnificent
appearance would no doubt make him remarkable to a quiet monk. The
unfortunate priest was shot for his pains up in the square on the
following morning.[67]
The Corso Cavour has a very modern look about it. Most of its big
buildings are used as barracks, but some few of the old are left. The
Palazzo Bracceschi has a fine old outside staircase and a good
collection of pictures, amongst them an exquisite Madonna and child
attributed to Filippo Lippi, but more like a Neri di Bicci, also some
fine original drawings.
S. DOMENICO.
The gigantic church of S. Domenico towers above the street to the left.
It is one of those desolate unfinished Gothic buildings which one finds
so often in Italian cities--a great idea dwarfed, not by want of
inspiration, but by the need of money to complete it. The church as we
now see it is merely a patchwork of the first architect's original
conception. It was begun early in the fourteenth century from designs
by Giovanni Pisano, but it was not finished till 1459. The building owed
much of its splendour to a young man of Perugia, Cristiano Armanni, who,
whilst studying at Bologna, had been converted to the faith by the
preaching of S. Domenico. Cristiano returned from the university in the
society of a certain S. Niccolò of Calabria, and induced his parents and
his friends to give him money for the new church which was about to be
built to honour S. Domenico. The magistrates of Perugia contributed a
banner to the cause, and they decided that wherever S. Niccolò might
place this banner, there the new church should be built. He planted it
near the church of S. Stefano, and on that site the present church of S.
Domenico now stands. Through the fault of inferior masons, part of the
choir and the middle nave fell through in 1614, but Bishop Comitoli
determined to rebuild it on the original design. He spent more than 4000
_scudi_ on this generous act and was as ill-rewarded as the most patient
builder of card-castles ever was, for the whole of his work collapsed
for the second time. It was finally rebuilt on the designs of Carlo
Maderno, in 1632. But all this tinkering has left very sorry scars, and
even the tower outside has not been spared. It was begun later than the
rest of the church and was not finished till about the end of the
fourteenth century, when Paul III. at once had the top of it knocked off
because he declared that the monks of S. Domenico could, from their
campanile, look down and spy upon the building of his fortress!
One or two relics alone remain of the many beautiful bits of art with
which the church was rich in early days. Of these the tomb of Pope
Benedict XI. is the most fascinating.
Of the life of Benedict there is not much to say; his reign covered a
period of only eight months, and perhaps his greatest glory is in his
tomb. He was a native of Treviso and belonged to the Dominican order. In
1304 he, like other popes and tired people, came to Perugia in search of
the peace he could not find in Rome, and there, in that same year, he
died. When in Perugia his mother came to see him--a thing which had only
once happened to a pope before.
"Moved by a desire to see her son," says Mariotti, "Filomarina came
to Perugia, and here having had herself nobly dressed by the people
of Perugia, as befitted the mother of the Pope, she presented
herself to her son. But he, seeing her so beautifully clad,
pretended that he did not know her, saying that this was not his
mother, because _she_ was a poor old woman and not a lady like this
one. And his mother hearing this thing, and being a good and holy
woman, took off those rich adornments, and putting on her own
again, she returned to the Pope, who recognising her as his mother,
received her with all tenderness."
Pope Benedict was anxious to make peace between the Bianchi and Neri of
Florence, and received from some of the heads of the Guelph factions a
visit of state in his residence at Perugia. Twelve of them, headed by
Corso Donato, came with all their suite behind them: one hundred and
fifty horses we hear, and many friends and relatives. No satisfactory
agreement was arranged, and shortly afterwards this holy but powerless
Pope passed into his rest.
It was supposed that Benedict died of poison, and the older stories run,
like the modern one of Zola, on the subject of a basket of poisoned
figs.
"In the year of Christ 1304, on the 27th of the month of June,"
says Villani, "Pope Benedict died in the city of Perugia, and it
was said that he died of poison. As the Pope sat eating at his
table a young man came to him dressed and veiled in the guise of a
woman, and as a servant of S. Petronilla, with a basin of silver in
which were many beautiful figs and flowers which he presented to
the Pope in the name of the faithful Abbess of the convent. The
Pope received the figs with very great delight, and because he
loved them, he made no enquiry concerning them, seeing moreover
that they came from a woman, and he ate a great quantity, whereupon
he immediately fell ill, and after a few days he died, and was
buried with great honours by the Preaching Friars who belonged to
the Dominican order at Perugia. Benedict was a good and an honest
man, but it is said that because of the envy of certain of his
cardinals, they had him poisoned in this fashion."
[Illustration: DETAIL OF THE TOMB OF POPE BENEDICT XI. IN THE CHURCH OF
S. DOMENICO]
Some say that Benedict was poisoned because of the ill-feeling of the
Florentines towards him, and others that he died by the jealous hand of
Philippe le Bel of France. The historians of the present day deny the
fact of poison at all. Be these matters as they may, the fact of the
dead pope's tomb remains--an entrancing bit of human workmanship. It was
made by Giovanni Pisano, son of the great Niccola, "who first breathed
life, with the breath of genius, into the dead forms of plastic art."
Pope Benedict lies asleep; stretched out quite flat and thin in his
exquisitely folded robes; there is a canopy over him with curtains
strung across it and two angels have drawn the curtain back to gaze at
the figure of the dead man. The columns of the tomb were filled up once
with precious mosaics, but during Napoleon's occupation of Perugia, a
regiment of men and horse were quartered in the church of S. Domenico,
and the French soldiers are said to have employed their leisure hours in
picking out these treasures with their pen-knives. Perhaps it was these
same thoughtless beings who wilfully mutilated the exquisite figures of
children, fragments of which are still left clinging to the spiral
curves.
The terra-cotta decorations in the chapel of the Rosario are the work of
Agostino Ducci--the Florentine sculptor who made the lovely front of S.
Bernardino, (see chapter viii.), and they would be interesting if only
for that reason. Though mutilated in parts, and spoilt by careless
white-wash, much of the detail is still charming; notably the three
little angels over the central arch. As for the rest of the church it
has but little interest now-a-days. The immense Gothic window of the
choir is said to be the largest in Italy, but the original glass is
entirely gone from its frame. The whole has been carefully restored by
Signor Moretti of Perugia. The stalls are covered with good intarsia
work, but they have been greatly spoiled by careless restoration, and
have a naked and forsaken look about them. S. Domenico is one of those
pathetic buildings which leave upon one's mind the feeling of arrested
decay, and one hurries gladly from it and out into the sunlight of the
street.
S. PIETRO.
Very different in every way is the church of S. Pietro, which one
reaches after passing through the gate of Porta Romana. "The Basilica of
S. Pietro is so adorned with beauties," says its faithful, but perhaps
too fond, biographer, "that it would suffer and be overburdened were
others added to it." The praise is certainly high, but it has a certain
grain of truth, and the church of S. Pietro, is, amongst the churches of
Perugia, a jewel of inestimable price, for unlike all the others it has
been left with all its treasures and its pictures in it (see note, p.
163).
The church and monastery of S. Pietro are built on the hill of Capraio
or Calvary, which stretches away to the south of the town. They form the
first object which catches the eye as one approaches the city on the
line from Rome; they serve as a sure landmark from many distant points
of Umbria, and one cannot stay long in the city without becoming
sincerely attached to the beautiful group of pale brick buildings,
crowned by their graceful campanile, which catch the sunrise and the
sunset lights, and fascinate one's fancy at every time and season.
It is difficult to decide the date of the first church of S. Pietro.
Tradition says that it is built on the site of an old Etruscan temple,
and that it was the first Christian building of Perugia, certainly it
was the first cathedral. We hear that the earliest Christians of Perugia
used to meet in subterranean passages under the present church of S.
Costanzo, which stands on the same spur of hill as that of S. Pietro,
and that there S. Costanzo, the second Bishop of Perugia, gathered his
little flock together to "feed them with the milk of the holy word of
God." We know that the present basilica was built by a certain Abbot,
Pietro Vincioli, a monk of the Benedictine order, who lived in the tenth
century, and was a great friend of the Emperor Otto III. Bonazzi gives a
delightful description of this Abbot and of his method of building and
the miracles he employed for the purpose. It seems that Pietro was
famous for his great sanctity and learning, and that he lived at a time
when everybody imagined that the world was about to come to an end:
"He had rich friends, the Emperor among them, and the latter, who
entertained the general superstition about the end of the world,
gave him a great deal of money, with which the Abbot determined to
build for himself the present church of S. Pietro. The Pope, the
Emperor, and many other persons showered down donations and
privileges for the purpose, and the new Benedictine monastery soon
became celebrated, and its monks took an active and important part
in the affairs of Perugia.... Although S. Pietro was of a somewhat
surly temper," continues Bonazzi, "he had the gift of miracles, and
once when the Tiber was in heavy flood, and a mill belonging to the
convent was threatened with destruction, the saint caused the
waters to subside. On another occasion during the building of S.
Pietro, the ropes which were raising one of the columns snapped in
two, and the Saint caused the column to remain suspended in mid air
until new ropes were brought, so that nobody was hurt. This
particular column is the second on the left as you enter.... It is
impossible to imagine," Bonazzi continues, "how great was the
sensation caused by these miracles, and for the time being, nobody
thought any more about the end of the world--perhaps they hoped
that our Saint had exorcised that, as well as the lesser
catastrophes."
Just as the Abbot had built his church in 963--a beautiful bare
basilica, with colonnades, and naked raftered roof--so she remained till
well down into the fifteenth century, waiting, as it were, for the
raiment of the Renaissance to clothe her with fresh glories. Then
gradually, first by the roofing of the ceiling, then by pictures,
chapels, the enlargement of the sacristy and choir, and such things of
rare and exquisite beauty as the stalls and the altar-piece of Perugino,
S. Pietro grew into a thing of marvellous taste and finish. But it was
an evil day in which some person ruined the original façade by adding
the courtyard and the cloisters. In old times the campanile stood free
of the church, and the front of the church had strange figures and
frescoes on it, parts of which can still be seen by penetrating a dark
passage under the bell-tower at the back of the little sacristy. (See
Bonfigli's fresco, p. 243.)
The history of the campanile of S. Pietro is a study in itself. This
most lovely and unfortunate tower was for ever suffering at the hands of
man or else the elements. Its chronicler is unable to discover the date
of its first erection, but he tells us that it was probably built on the
site of an old Etruscan tomb, which even now forms its basement. The
earliest written record of the campanile is dated 1347, at which time we
are told that it was so elegant, and so very richly adorned, that an
early historian thought it to be the "loveliest in Tuscany," yet a
certain war-like Abbot, Fra Guidalotti, a man "who rather inclined to
the affairs of war than the discipline of religion, with a view maybe to
convert his campanile into a fortress, that it might thus better serve
his war-like spirit," began to claw it down. He got as far as the first
obelisk, and in his evil operations he tumbled down the metal statue of
the Saint which once adorned the summit. The engaging work of the Abbot
was taken up and continued by Pope Boniface IX., who, in 1393, spent 180
florins in turning the gracious tower into a strong fortress! In 1468
the campanile was rebuilt by the monks at the great cost of 4000
florins, but some years later it was struck by lightning and much
injured. "From this point onward," writes its historian, "the history of
the tower can only be traced through one continuous series of repairs,
which injury from lightning necessitated." These injuries were of such a
sort and so continuous that finally the building showed signs of
approaching ruin. Iron clamps were added, but the lightning continued
to attack it. At last someone had the wisdom to put up lightning
conductors, since when the tower is safe, and one of the loveliest
points in the landscape is secured for us.
A door festooned with splendid garlands of fruit, carved deep in creamy
marbles, leads from the courtyard into the church. The interior is
heavily decorated, but though some of the pictures are far from good,
the impression given by the whole is beautiful and pleasing; and the
choir, which was added in 1400, is one of the loveliest things of its
kind in Italy. The columns of the nave are some of the remains of the
only pagan temple which was left in Perugia after the siege of Augustus
(see S. Angelo, chapter vii.). With the exception of Perugino's great
altar-piece, S. Pietro has preserved nearly all the pictures which were
painted for it. Amongst these is a good _Pietà_ by Perugino (perhaps one
of the panels out of the big picture at S. Agostino). There are three
large canvases by Vasari in the chapel of the Holy Sacrament, a painting
by Eusebio di S. Giorgio of the Adoration of the Magi on the wall
outside and a picture by Guido Reni in the chapel of the
Annunciation.[68] At the end of the left transept is a _Pietà_ by
Bonfigli. "Cette Piété incorrecte et pieuse," as M. Broussole describes
it. The picture hangs in a bad light between the Vibi chapel and the
door, and at first only the white naked figure of Christ shines out on
the dark blue gown of the virgin; but looking a little longer we find
ourselves in the study of S. Jerome: one of those enchanting rooms which
this particular saint inevitably inhabits, neat and exquisite in the
arrangement of its benches and its lectern. Our Lady of Pity is sitting
there, holding the dead figure of her son and kissing his head upon her
shoulder. To her right is a figure of S. Leonard, to the left, and
wholly unconscious of the tragedy, S. Jerome sits, smiling a little
slyly. There is beautiful intarsia work (older than that in the choir)
on the walls of the sacristy, and some fine illuminated books; lower
down the church in the right transept, a beautiful bit of work by
Salimbene of Siena, and on the last wall a fine picture of the school of
Perugino, very rich and bright in colour. The two Alfanis have left
ample specimens of their art in S. Pietro, and there are several of
Sassoferrato's copies of great masterpieces. But the greatest treasure
of the church, like those of S. Lorenzo and S. Agostino, did not escape
the terrible eye of Napoleon Bonaparte. Perugino's great Assumption,
which formed the glory of the high altar, is gone to France. Only six of
the saints, battered and cut from their frames, linger like unhappy
ghosts on the walls of the sacristy.
The altar in the chapel of the Vibi and Baglioni families is a lovely
bit of Mino da Fiesole's work. Vasari accuses this sweet-souled sculptor
of a lack of originality--of a desire to copy the sentiment of his
master (Desiderio da Settignano) rather than to draw straight for
himself from the sources of nature. Be this as it may in the case of
Mino's portraits of people, those of his flowers in this particular
piece of work are strangely realistic. We think he must himself have
gathered and bound the garlands which hang from the narrow frieze, and
in doing so he took for models the sharpest and the prickliest fruits
and leaves of autumn: hazel nuts and tiny fir cones, their points just
tipped with gold. The halos, too, on the angels' heads, their wings, and
the details of the architecture are all picked out with gold. White,
clean, and flat and fair is Mino's altar-piece in the Baglioni chapel.
How different from the blood-stained hands and hearts of those same men
who came to tell their beads here and be buried.
Long after other details in the church have been forgotten, its choir
will remain a haunting vision of excessive beauty. Every inch of it is
worked with exquisite care and finish, for the monks spared no pains or
money, either in its construction or its decoration. Although a piece of
the purest Renaissance fancy, it does not clash with the lines of the
older basilica, and the two little pulpits of pietra serena, with their
rich gilding, the organ lofts and the rather rococo frescoes on the
ceiling, seem only to harmonise the meeting of the different styles of
building. Raphael is said to have designed the stalls, but there is no
sort of document to prove this. "Because our choir is the work of a
genius, it does not follow that that genius should be Raphael ... genius
is not the possession of one sole person," pleads M. Cassinese. Raphael
died in 1520, the present stalls were not finished till 1535, and they
are probably almost entirely the work of Stefano da Bergamo and the men
and boys whom the Bergamasque employed. Some few may be of an earlier
date, for we know that the choir was begun in 1524, and that the work
was interrupted by the same terrible pestilence as that which killed
Perugino. In 1532, Stefano da Bergamo undertook the work of the choir.
He worked steadily, and the monks of S. Pietro kept the most accurate
account of what they paid him, and of how many measures of flour and
pence they gave the men and boys whom he employed. Little is known of
the life of Stefano da Bergamo; we do not even know from whom he learned
his art, but M. Cassinese rightly concludes that he drew his inspiration
from the divine Raphael, since his designs are purely Raphaelesque. The
carving is unequal, and some of the stalls are infinitely lovelier than
others. Note the ninth on the right of the choir: a mother and three
children encircled by a heavy garland of fruit and flowers, and under
them a child, with flying hair, playing with snakes. Note, too, the
extraordinary rows of mythical beasts which lie upon the arms of the
lower row of stalls; catch them in perspective one evening in the
dusk--they will give you food for most fantastic dreaming. What minds,
half childlike and half mad, these early carvers had!
The doors of the choir are the work of Fra Damiano of Bergamo. They are
intarsia work, and show a most delightful fancy. They have unfortunately
been much polished and restored; still what a jewel this panel is, which
is said to represent the finding of Moses! Compare the banks of the Nile
with this palace and this pleasaunce of the purest Renaissance. Its
bulrushes are turned to pergolas, its pyramids to a maze of pillars and
of marble terraces, and there is a bear in the foreground eating honey,
a crane, a rabbit, a long-eared goat, and other beasts of singular
delight. It is strange to think of Fra Damiano sitting in his rooms at
Bologna and preparing these same decorative panels for a place which,
maybe, he had never seen. Above the doors is a fresco attributed to
Giannicola Manni(?), and when the doors open you step out straight upon
a little balcony, and down below lies the Umbrian plain, without a break
of building, and straight in front of you Assisi lies upon its broad,
calm hillside.
The work for the stalls of S. Pietro was finished, it seems, in 1535,
but the pieces were not put together till 1591. In that year, on the 4th
of August, a native architect undertook to put the carvings in their
places. He worked so steadily that on Christmas Eve of that same year,
"at the first vespers of the feast, the choir was solemnly inaugurated
in a musical mass sung by the friars."
What a picture we have--the dull light of the candles on the winter
morning and the monks singing together, in the midst of all their
beautiful new woodwork!
A curious incident is told in connection with the choir of S. Pietro and
three citizens of Perugia. When on the 20th of June 1859, the papal
troops entered Perugia, a detachment of them were quartered in the
church and monastery of S. Pietro, after the town had been seized, and
three gentlemen of Perugia who had been fighting for her liberty at the
gates found themselves cut off from the town and surrounded by the Swiss
guard, who, however, were not conscious of their presence, in the
monastery of S. Pietro. It will be remembered that the monks of S.
Pietro, on this occasion, sided with the citizens, and one of them, Fra
Santo, hustled the three gentlemen up into a little cupboard in the
organ-loft where he kept them concealed for three whole days, feeding
them, as best he could, with a little bread and water. One other
gentleman, who was concealed in another part of the church, managed to
escape under cover of certain dust-pans belonging to the friars, with
which he passed himself off on the guard at the gates as a sacristan.
Either he, or someone else, let the cat out of the bag about the
gentlemen in the organ, and a most diligent search was set on foot.
However, the little cupboard escaped notice for the time, and on the
morning of the fourth day of their confinement, whilst the Papal guard
were getting their pay, Fra Santo and another monk took from the stalls
the ropes which they had cut from their bells on the preceding evening,
and tying these to the balcony of the choir, they hastily let out the
three gentlemen from the organ, who clambered down the ropes, and waving
adieu to their benefactors, scampered off as quickly as they could
across the open country. Five hours later the Pope's guard went up into
the organ, but even then they failed to discover the cupboard whence
their enemies had so lately flown!
When, some time later, the monks of S. Pietro went to Rome to beg the
Pope's pardon for the part they had played against him in the siege of
Perugia, the heaviest blame fell, of course, on Fra Santo; but his
Holiness with extreme good sense thus put an end to the question: "If
Fra Santo has done what you tell me he has, God has willed that he
should do so, and we must ever respect the will of God."
There are one or two lovely bits of della Robbia work in the refectory
of the monastery, a fresco by Tiberio d'Assisi(?) in the chapel, and a
fine well in one of the cloisters. The garden, too, is very charming,
but it is not easy to get permission to wander in these pleasant places
where popes and monks and men of learning spent such pleasant and such
profitable hours. The place is now occupied by students as the whole
convent was turned last year (1896) into a great agricultural college.
(See Note, p. 163.)
S. COSTANZO.
A little lower down the hill is the small church dedicated to S.
Costanzo. For some obscure reason this saint, who is purely local, has
become the patron saint of lovers, and on his feast day all the lovers
of the neighbourhood assemble at the shrine. If the eye of S. Costanzo
blinks at the young man or the girl who kneel before his image, they
feel a happy certainty that the course of their affection will run
smooth, and that the year will end in happy union.
S. Costanzo was converted to the Christian faith by S. Ercolano I., whom
he succeeded as bishop of Perugia, and Ciatti gives us a long list of
his virtues and his miracles. The blind of the city received their
sight from him, we hear, and the lame were made to walk. But all his
miracles and his conversions made him an object of hatred to the pagans,
and one day he was seized together with his followers, and thrown into
prison. They were then put into scalding baths, "but," says Ciatti, "the
Holy Ghost, who filled their souls with fire, tempered the external
heat, and they sang hymns to signify their great tranquillity." Their
only discomfort lay in the darkness all around them, but soon "a
wonderful brightness appeared unto them from heaven which comforted them
exceedingly." Then the pagans continued their tortures and forced the
Saint to walk on burning embers, but as these did him no harm he was
stripped and covered with red hot coals; and all the time he went on
singing much to the annoyance of his tormentors. Finally he and his
followers made their escape and fled to Spello, where fresh conversions,
followed by fresh tortures, are recounted. At last, in 154 A.D., he met
his death at Spoleto. His body was taken back to Perugia by a certain
Serviano da Foligno, who found it "surrounded by a choir of rejoicing
angels, and in a shroud of heavenly light. The holy burden was too heavy
for Serviano to carry alone, and he called on two men who were passing
by to help him. At first they refused and scoffed at the miracles he
related, whereupon they were both struck blind, and trembling, they
prayed for mercy to the God of the Christians. On touching the body of
the Saint they received their sight, whereat they gladly helped to carry
it into Perugia. They entered by Porta S. Pietro, and were met by many
of the faithful." The body of S. Costanzo is buried in the little church
outside the Porta S. Pietro, rebuilt by the present Pope, and the
beautiful byzantine doorway seems a fit entrance to the tomb of this
suffering and much tormented martyr of Perugia.
CHAPTER VII
_Piazza del Papa, S. Severo, Porta Sole, S. Agostino, and S.
Francesco al Monte_
The Piazza del Papa[69] lies a little to the right of the entrance door
to the Duomo. In former times the straw market was held in this square,
which was then called the Piazza di Paglia, and at that period the
statue of Pope Julius occupied a splendid position on the steps of the
cathedral. But during the great revolt against the Papacy in 1780 the
Pope's statue was taken away from its prominent place by some wise
persons who foresaw its destruction should they allow it to remain
there, and it was bundled into the cellar of a tavern in the town, where
it remained, not, it must be confessed, entirely incognito, till
people's nerves had calmed a little.[70] Not so very long ago the Pope
was once more brought to the light of day and set in his present
position.
Pope Julius III. is a great figure in Perugian history. He is in a sense
a lay figure, for he never set foot in the city after his student days,
and he was worshipped almost in the manner of an unseen deity by the
Perugians. Julius succeeded Paul III., and though he by no means did
away with the supreme power of the
[Illustration: HOUSE IN THE VIA PERNICE]
Church in the city, still he mitigated many of the hardships and the
ignominies which that power had entailed in the hands of the great
Farnese. When Paul III. died in 1549 his fortress remained as a legacy
to the city, with a Castellano to watch over its (Papal) interests.
This man proceeded to rule as his master had taught him, and he defended
the castle vigilantly against the Pope's nephew, who made some efforts
to gain possession of so rich a prize.
The policy of Julius III. was of a much milder order. "Julius had always
loved our city with a peculiar partiality," says Mariotti, "and he sent
his relation Cardinal della Corgna hither, endowing him with full
authority, and hardly had the Cardinal arrived than he restored to the
city the arms of which she had been deprived so long; and in February of
that same year Julius III. sent a brief to the holders of ecclesiastical
liberty, which was addressed to the _Priori delle Arte_ (heads of City
Guilds), a title which had not been heard of in Perugia since 1539; and
to this grace the same Pope added considerable sums of money for the
maintenance of those same magistrates...."
It will be easy to anyone who has formed even a dim conception of what
the strength of the spirit of liberty was like in the minds of the
Perugians to understand the pure sensation of delight which the Pope's
open acknowledgment of their old municipal rule, followed as it was by a
message couched in such friendly terms, was likely to produce. Fretting
as the citizens had been for many years under the rule of the despotic
Paul, they hailed his more temperate successor as a sort of saviour, and
they determined to express their sentiments of joy in what Bonazzi fitly
terms "a day of political bacchanalia."[71]
"So on the morning of the first day in May the heads of the
principal guilds of the Mercanzia and the Cambio met in the piazza,
and there having put aside their black apparel (Paul III. had
Insisted on the _Priori_ wearing a form of mourning, in order, and
probably with perfect wisdom, to insist on his own authority in
Perugia), they reassumed the crimson of the former _Priori_, and
thrusting their heads through the golden chains which the Pope's
Vice-Legate himself insisted upon hanging round them in token of
their reinstatement, they took their seats upon the damask benches
and listened to the Mass of the Holy Ghost, sung by the
Vice-Legate. Then, upon leaving the church, all the religious
orders, the _Confraternitàs_, the guilds, the gentlemen, the
troops, and the excited populace seeing the transfigured
magistrates, lifted a frenzied cry, and forming into a monstrous
procession to the sound of pipes, of drums, of trumpets, bells, and
much artillery, the whole crowd followed the _Priori_ to the Church
of S. Agostino and there, having heard another musical mass, the
new magistrates, followed by an ever increasing and clamorous
cortège, went on to take up quarters on the first floor of the
Palazzo Pubblico."
Not satisfied with this demonstration of their delight and loyalty
toward the new Pope, the Perugians determined to commemorate the
occasion through the medium of art. They commissioned Adone Doni to
paint the above described scene of the reinstatement of the magistrates
(see the picture in the Palazzo Pubblico), whilst Vincenzo Danti, then a
mere boy, was employed to make the big bronze statue of Julius III.,
which is one of the most remarkable points in the present town.
But to us who know the almost purely democratic, or at least municipal,
tendencies of past Perugia, this great bronze figure of a Pope eternally
blessing the city always excites a sense of something false and
contradictory, and had we been permitted to visit the benevolent Julius
in the caverns of the wine shop, we should have felt him in that place
to be a truer symbol of the spirit of the town throughout her troubled
history.
S. SEVERO.
From the Piazza del Papa several roads branch off to different points of
the town. To the right the Via Bontempi leads down past some beautiful
old palaces into a network of typical Perugian streets. The churches of
S. Fiorenzo, the Carmine, and S. Maria Nuova, all of which have
_gonfaloni_ or banners by Bonfigli, lie in this direction, and are very
well worth visiting. Indeed, the _gonfalone_ in S. Maria Nuova is
extraordinarily interesting: a typical specimen of that tragic and
almost passionate form of art which arose out of, and answered to, the
needs of a people convinced of its own moral depravity (see p. 232). To
the left of the Via Bontempi a narrow street winds steeply up the hill
to the church of S. Severo, which stands high up above the church of S.
Maria Nuova, and commands a splendid view to the east of the city, and
away across the valley of the Tiber to Assisi. "It is asserted by some
persons," says Siepi, "that in the year 1007 a little colony of
Camaldolese monks was transferred to the city of Perugia, who, during
the lifetime of their holy founder, took up their abode on the hill of
S. Severo, and here, upon the ruins of an ancient temple, which some
believe was dedicated to the sun god, and upon a spot which might be
termed the Acropolis of Perugia, they built their church, and dedicated
it to S. Severo, Bishop of Ravenna, probably because they came into
Perugia from that same city." As to whether the church of S. Severo was
really built on the site of an old pagan temple dedicated to the sun god
we cannot say; it is certain that this whole quarter of the town is
called Porta Sole, but, however it be, the church of the Camaldolese
monks has been quite altered in the course of centuries, and, except for
its position and its fresco, it has not much to charm the casual
tourist. During later restorations the outer porch with Raphael's and
Perugino's fresco was preserved, and built into a little chapel, where
we see it now. The fresco is signed 1505, so Raphael was no longer a
boy when he painted it. Some years later he painted his great pictures
in the Stanze of the Vatican, and, perhaps, he was feeling his way to
these grand compositions when he drew his semi-circle of saints on the
walls of the little old church of S. Severo. Did the master Perugino
watch his brilliant pupil as he painted? There is a touch of pathos in
the facts which follow:--Raphael the mighty genius dies, and Rome goes
into mourning for him; fourteen or fifteen years go by, and Perugino,
who, be it remembered, was not a young man when the slim youth from
Urbino came one day into his studio and asked to learn the art of
painting from him, comes back to the spot where Raphael's fresco shines
upon the wall, and paints, in his most faded style, the six pale saints
which we now see below it....
PORTA SOLE.
But to return once more to the piazza. Another road leads up immediately
behind the statue of Pope Julius to one of the most surprising points in
the city, namely, the bastions of Porta Sole. It was to this high point,
which commands an extraordinary view over the north of the town, that
Dante alluded when writing of Perugia:
"Intra Tupino e l'acqua che discende
Del colle eletto del beato Ubaldo
Fertile costa d'alto monte pende,
Onde Perugia sente freddo e caldo
Da Porta Sole, e diretro le piange
Per grave giogo Nocera con Gualdo."
Porta Sole is mixed up with a strange and a most typical bit of Perugian
history. We have seen how much this city was influenced by the popes,
and how, in the many fluctuations of her history, she nearly always
returned to the nominal rule of the Church of Rome. Early in the
fourteenth century she broke away for a time from Papal power, but in
1370 again swore allegiance to Pope Urban IV., who sent his brother,
Cardinal Albano, to receive the act of submission from her people. The
following year the Cardinal of Jerusalem came to Perugia to establish
peace between the nobles and the _Raspanti_. He was escorted by about
500 horsemen and 300 infantry, and the people received him with
enthusiasm, coming out to meet him with palms in their hands, and cries
of "Viva Santa Madre Chiesa, eviva il Signore!" Unfortunately his wise
rule lasted but a year, and he was succeeded by a very different sort of
person, namely, the Abbot of Mommaggiore from Cluny (see p. 30), who
arrived in Perugia in a most hostile frame of mind, and quite prepared
for war and for revolts of every kind. The Abbot at once set to work to
build for himself fortresses, the like of which, as one proud chronicler
relates, had never before been seen in Italy. He erected a massive
citadel at Porta Sole, and in order to be in connection with the Palazzo
dei Priori he made a covered passage with high machicolated walls to
join the two together. In doing this he did not scruple to knock down a
large part of the cathedral which happened to come in his way. At Porta
S. Antonio, too, the Abbot built some large and splendid houses, part of
which may still be seen, and these he joined by means of a covered
passage to the other citadel on Porta Sole. Thus Mommaggiore may be said
to have had a run over half the city of Perugia. So beautiful and
luxurious were his palaces at S. Antonio, that we are told they seemed a
veritable paradise. In them he stored enough wine and flour and other
things to last him and his French companions for at least ten years,
and not content with all these preparations for a possible revolt of the
citizens, he even called in the help of an English _condottiere_, Sir
John Hawkwood, who was at that time in the service of the Church, to
come and ravage all the country round Perugia.
The Perugians looked on in silence, and in silence they planned a
desperate plan of revolution, for they were determined to resist this
abominable French Abbot and to assert their former authority. Silently,
and with bowed heads, they watched the Abbot's troops scouring the
streets on the evening of the 12th December 1375; and not till night had
fallen on the town did a hum arise. Then deep growling sounds rang
through the darkness of the night, and the tyrant, sitting in his
palace, knew that the men of the town were up, and that a mighty
mischief was preparing. Down in the Porta S. Angelo the cry of "Viva il
Popolo" was heard, and with one accord, little and great, nobles and
people, forgetting private injuries and discords, and moved by a single
purpose, clasping hands and crying, "Viva il Popolo, and death to the
Abbot and the pastors of the Church," rushed into the piazza just as the
sun had risen. The terrified Abbot, seeing that the people were about to
storm the Palazzo Pubblico, fled with his friends and soldiers along the
covered passages to his palace at S. Antonio. The furious citizens were
quick to follow and arrived before the fortress with all sorts of
infernal machines, amongst others a large catapult which hurled forth
stones of such a size and with such excellent effect that it received
the name of _Cacciaprete_ (Kick out the priests). We hear of a great
battle which took place when the Abbot, being besieged in his citadel,
was forced to implore the help of Sir John Hawkwood; but the latter,
having been well bribed by the Perugians, abandoned his unfortunate
patron, leaving him, surrounded night and day by a crowd of angry
citizens, to meditate upon the various fortunes of war. At last,
however, a peace was concluded, and Sir John Hawkwood arrived at the
head of 300 lancers[72] to escort the Abbot, his French friends, and his
1500 horse and soldiers safe beyond the city. The Perugians, seeing
their enemy the Abbot arrayed in heavy armour and hardly able to lift
his feet, slipping moreover at every turn upon the muddy ground, saluted
him with shrill whistles, which even the mighty Hawkwood was unable to
suppress, and a chronicler devoutly tells us that "thus in the name of
God, of His holy Mother Mary, and of the blessed Saints: Ercolano,
Lorenzo, and Costanzo, was the city of Perugia delivered from the hands
of those accursed pastors of the Church." The happy event was celebrated
by grand religious functions, although the revolt had been entirely
against the temporal power of the Pope. Even Milan and Florence rejoiced
at the news, and ambassadors from Siena and from Arezzo came to Perugia
to grace the feasts and the rejoicings with their presence. "_Priori_
and treasurers of the Republic, doctors, nobles, _Raspanti_, and
_Beccherini_, danced for a whole week, day and night, in friendly
concord, and there were fireworks and much sound of music."
These things were done at Porta Sole in the past. The Abbot's palaces
and covered passages were well-nigh battered to bits by the revengeful
citizens, but the charm of the small piazza has not vanished with them.
Looking from the bastions one still can trace a portion of the covered
passage by which the terror-stricken Abbot fled at sunrise to his
palaces at Porta Sant' Antonio; and on winter evenings we have often
stood there, watching, with an ever fresh delight, the brown roofs of
the slumbering town below--the brown woods of the browner Apennines
beyond; and seen them fade and gather into one harmonious whole just as
they did five hundred years ago, when Mommaggiore sat at supper and
heard the first low hum of revolution.
From the piazza of Porta Sole a steep paved road or staircase leads down
to the Piazza Grimani, and here one is confronted by what is perhaps the
most remarkable point in the whole city, namely, the Arch of
Augustus.[73]
ARCH OF AUGUSTUS.
In Dennis' admirable account of Perugia he gives a full description of
this arch:--
"The best preserved and grandest of all the gates of Perugia," he
says, "is the _Arco d'Augusto_, so called from the inscription,
_Augusta Perusia_, over the arch. It is formed of regular masonry
of travertine, uncemented, in courses of 18 inches high; some of
the blocks being 3 or 4 feet in length. The masonry of the arch
hardly corresponds with that below it and is probably of subsequent
date and Roman, as the inscription seems to testify, though the
letters are not necessarily coeval with the structure. The arch is
skew or oblique; and the gate is double, like those of Volterra and
Cosa. Above the arch is a frieze of six Ionic colonnettes, fluted,
alternating with shields; and from this springs another arch, now
blocked up, surmounted by a second frieze of Ionic pilasters, not
fluted. All the work above the lower arch is evidently of later
date than the original construction of the gateway.... This gate
stands recessed from the line of the city wall, and is flanked on
either hand by a tower, projecting about 20 feet, and rising,
narrowing upwards, to a level with the top of the wall above the
gate. The masonry of these towers, to the height of the imposts of
the arch, corresponds with that of the gate itself, and seems to be
the original structure, all above that height is of a later
period.... The gate still forms one of the entrances to the city,
though there is a populous suburb without its walls. Its appearance
is most imposing. The lofty towers, like ponderous obelisks,
truncated--the tall archway recessed between them--the frieze of
shields and colonnettes above it--the second arch soaring over all,
a gallery, it may be, whence to annoy the foe--the venerable
masonry overgrown with moss, or dark with the breath of ages--form
a whole which carries the mind most forcibly into the past."
The history of the arch of Augustus, or _Porta urbica etrusca_, has been
given again and again by local and by foreign guide-books and
historians, but we know of no better account than the above by Dennis,
and little is left to say on the subject here. In speaking of Etruscan
walls in another part of his book, Dennis remarks that one of their most
striking features is the apparent newness of the stone. The big blocks
of travertine on the Arco d'Augusto are as sharp almost as on the day
when the Etruscans brought them up the hill, something like three
thousand years ago, the marks of the individual masons are perfectly
clear upon their faces, and time has mellowed the light and graceful
colonnade of the Renaissance and Roman architecture, as much or more
than that of the vanished people.
For a vivid first impression of the city one should certainly enter it
from its northern side, and pass at once into its grim, dark, mediæval
streets, through these splendid early portals. The usual approach from
the station, which is certainly no quicker and much more tedious, gives
nothing like the same impression of the real Perugia, which we love to
read about and study.
[Illustration: ARCO D'AUGUSTO]
S. AGOSTINO.
Many roads meet in the Piazza Grimani, and joining as it were together,
pass back to the heart of the town through the arch of Augustus. The
whole of the Borgo S. Angelo, which spreads away to the north of the
piazza, though enclosed by very early walls, is not part of the first
city of Perugia, and is indeed a little city of its own with one main
street, the Via Longara, and houses closely packed on either side.[74]
To the right as one passes up it is the church of S. Agostino, with its
wonderful choir--one of those choirs which, by its exquisite variety of
design and transformation of the wood to beasts, delights and fascinates
one.
The choir was made in 1502, and, as Mariotti, who describes it at
length, remarks, it is "indeed worthy of praise." Perugino himself
supplied the designs, which were carried out by his Florentine friend
Baccio d'Agnolo, and Perugino saw that the payment of the work was good:
1120 florins down at the end of the year when the work was done.[75]
S. Agostino, like other churches of the town, has long since been
despoiled of its best treasures. We read a long list of its early
pictures; the crowning glory of these, the large and many-sided
altar-piece by Perugino, was pulled to bits and scattered during the
Napoleonic raids. The history of this great altar-piece has been traced
with extraordinary precision, and as it throws some light on the ways of
the painter we give a sketch of it here. It seems that in the autumn of
1502 the indefatigable Pietro signed a contract in which he promised to
paint his "Sposalizio" for the Duomo, three other smaller pictures,
designs for the stalls of S. Agostino, and finally an immense two-sided
altar-piece for that same church. As may easily be imagined the
[Illustration: S. AGOSTINO AND PORTA BULAGAJO]
carrying out of this colossal contract was no light matter, and it
dragged on for years during which time Perugino did not hesitate to
embark on several other works; and, not at all abashed by his own lack
of faith in promises, we find him writing to the friars of S. Agostino
from Pieve di Castello, where he was for the time engaged on other work,
begging them in a large round hand and most marvellous spelling, to give
some corn to one of his protégés, bearer of the letter (see Pinacoteca).
The letter is dated March 30, 1512. The next we hear of the picture is
in the autumn of 1521 when there is a question about payment which
proves that the work was finished. It is not an easy matter to
reconstruct this picture, but we have seen the plan of it in a very
early manuscript which shows a grand pile of frame and canvasses much in
the style of Pinturicchio's altar-piece in the Pinacoteca. Of all its
many parts Perugia has only kept a few of the saints, the Baptism, the
Nativity and the _Pietà_(?). We read of scattered fragments in such
different towns as Grenoble, Toulouse, Lyons, and Nantes. The Madonna
herself, we hear, was pierced by a German ball at Strasburg.
There is in a side chapel of S. Agostino a rather beautiful old fresco,
probably by some scholar of Perugino, of a Madonna and some saints with
a white rabbit in the foreground. Looking one day at the picture we
wondered vaguely why the rabbit had been painted there: "Ma, per
bellezza," hazarded the small son of the sacristan with the delightful
intuition peculiar to the children of his nation. No doubt he was
perfectly right. Another good fresco by Perugino or his scholars may be
found, strangely enough, in the back passage of a baker's shop a little
farther up the Via Longara; but before leaving the church of S. Agostino
it would be well to look at the splendid meeting-room of the
Confraternità next door to it. This room, like that at S. Francesco, is
a magnificent specimen of rather heavy and sumptuous Renaissance
wood-carving.
S. ANGELO.
At the very end of the Borgo, just before turning into the open country,
is the little old temple of S. Angelo. One of the earliest facts we find
in the history of Perugia is that this temple was the only building
which escaped the fire kindled by Caius Cestius (see p. 10). The church
is probably built on the site of some old Etruscan temple, but in its
present state it bears only a phantom resemblance to the form of its
first architecture. Some say that the early temple was dedicated to Pan,
more likely it was a temple to Venus or Vulcan. Conestabile declares
that three distinct periods of building can be traced in it, and he
suggests that the original temple was pulled down and rebuilt by
ignorant early Christians with the ruins of another temple dedicated to
Flora. The pillars are certainly of different sizes and very different
qualities of stone. Some few are of Greek marble, and one has an
Etruscan capital; yet in Fergusson's description of S. Angelo he says
that "the materials are apparently original and made for the place they
occupy;" he also suggests that the church was originally used as a
baptistery, or may have been dedicated to some martyr, "but in the heart
of Etruria," he adds, "this form may have been adopted for other
reasons, the force of which we are hardly able at present to appreciate;
though in all cases locality is one of the strongest influencing powers
as far as architectural forms are concerned." In the first form of the
Christian building it was surrounded by a third row of columns (see p.
171) which were taken by the Abbot of S. Pietro to adorn his new
basilica, and in those times the third circle stood open to the air
[Illustration: CHURCH OF S. ANGELO]
with vestibules and atrium. The altar of sacrifice, now a side altar,
stood in the centre of the church where the hideous rococo baldachino
stands to-day. The small square pillar with the Latin inscription was
probably moved from its place, and turned to the north at the time
when, as a local writer fitly says, "the architecture of S. Angelo was
burdened by so many bagatelles and such a profusion of false ornament."
Among other late Christian "ornaments" in S. Angelo we must mention the
body of a young Saint which lies embalmed under one of the side altars.
It is one of those odd pathetic bits of bad taste which somehow charm
us. The Saint is dressed in tawdry armour, but his face and limbs are
exquisitely fine, his expression pure and very peaceful. His hair is
long, the skin of his face waxen, he seems to be merely sleeping. One of
the very earliest Umbrian frescoes of Perugia, "La Madonna del Verde,"
is painted in a chapel to the right. The whole building is a remarkable
mixture of early pagan, of Roman, and of Christian art, and we can only
regret that the last should have been added later, and in its worst and
most degraded era.
The temple stands on a quiet plot of ground within the city walls,
which, a little to the left of it, end in a great mediæval tower or
portcullis put up in time of war by a _condottiere_! It needed the
Umbrian sky, it required the Umbrian landscape to make of such strange
contrasts an harmonious whole. Yet S. Angelo is one of those things
which at once possesses men's fancy, and we read that even in the middle
ages fantastic legends centred round it, and that the early writers
believed it to be the "pavilion of Orlando."
* * * * *
Having, in this chapter, run through some few historical facts relating
to a Pope, an Abbot, two Umbrian painters and a pagan temple, we may as
well complete the medley with one or two calm records of the Umbrian
saints. Leaving the church of S. Angelo one passes back to the street
and out through the Porta S. Angelo into the open country. The gate is
half a castle, and was built by Fortebraccio when he was strengthening
the city with new walls. There is a charming detail in the life of S.
Francis connected with it. We hear that when Pope Honorius III. was
staying at Perugia, the enthusiasm for saint Francis of Assisi was at
its height, and the Pope with all his court went down across the plain
to visit the quiet dwelling-place of the gentle Christ-like teacher:
"And the friars of S. Francis," says Mariotti, "beheld many counts and
cavaliers and other noble gentlemen, and a great number of Cardinals,
Bishops, Abbots and different clergy, who all came down to see the large
but humble congregation of S. Francis." And then the Saint returned the
visit, and coming in person to call upon the Pope in order to obtain
indulgences for his new church of the Angeli, it happened that as he
passed through the Porta S. Angelo he met with S. Domenico who himself
was hurrying in the same direction. They met each other in the
archway--these two founders of great religious orders--"and with their
usual charity they embraced each other." The picture is beautiful and
striking indeed: maybe a hot May morning, and the two men, who more than
most on earth had overcome themselves and elevated the souls of other
men, staying to embrace in a quiet, homely fashion before passing
further on into the presence of the acknowledged Pontiff of the Church.
S. FRANCESCO AL MONTE.
A little further down the road on the left hand side, is the monastery
of S. Francesco al Monte. We hear that the place was endowed in the
following manner: "It happened that a rich gentleman, Giacomo di
Buonconti de' Coppoli, who, in his houses of Monteripido," (the hill on
which the present convent stands) "was wont most tenderly to entertain
the blessed brother Egidio, delighted beyond power of description in the
ecstatic trances of that Saint; and having become a widower, by the
death of Donna Vita, who died childless, Messer Giacomo took holy
orders, and in his will he ordered that his houses should be turned into
the convent of S. Francesco al Monte which was therefore built in 1276
by the Minori Osservanti." We may conclude that Fra Egidio, who was one
of the most fascinating followers of S. Francis, long outlived his
ardent worshipper, for we hear that he spent a great deal of his time in
the convent that was built to do honour to the Franciscan order.
Poor Fra Egidio! when he knew that death was near he begged to be taken
back to Assisi to die and be buried in the home of his loved leader; but
the Perugians, although they simply idolized him, refused him this last
comfort. They forced him to die in their midst so that they might have
his corpse and profit by the miracles that they expected would be worked
by it. They gave him a beautiful tomb at last, which may now be seen in
the church of the University. His staff, his book, his poor brown gown,
are kept in a crystal case tied up with roses and silk ribbons.
The monastery of S. Francesco al Monte rises bare but beautifully
proportioned on its hill top. Tall lines of slender cypress trees guard
either side of the steep ascent or "sacro monte" which leads to it. We
cannot explore the cells; the little church is bare, its Perugino
altar-piece and other pictures gone, like the rest, to the Pinacoteca;
but sitting on the grass-grown steps we may read one of the most
delightful and ingenuous stories ever told about either Perugia or the
followers of S. Francis:--
"So S. Louis, King of France, went upon a pilgrimage to visit all
the sanctuaries upon the earth, and hearing great fame of the
holiness of Brother Egidio, who had been one of the first
companions of S. Francis, he set his heart on visiting him in
person, wherefore he came to Perugia where Fra Egidio then was
living. And coming to the door of the convent dressed as a poor and
unknown pilgrim with but a few companions, he enquired with great
insistence after Fra Egidio, saying nothing to the porter of who it
was that asked. So the porter went to Fra Egidio, and told him that
a pilgrim was asking for him at the door, and to Fra Egidio it was
revealed by God that he who waited for him was the King of France,
whereat he immediately and with the utmost fervour left his cell
and hurried to the gate; and without further questioning and
although they had never met before, with the most deep devotion
those two kneeled down together kissing each other with such a
sweet familiarity it seemed that they had held long fellowship
together: but in spite of all these things neither the one nor the
other spoke a word; they merely held each other in that close
embrace, with every sign of charitable love, in silence. And having
stayed together thus for a long space of time without exchange of
words they parted from each other; and S. Louis went forth upon his
journey and Fra Egidio returned unto his cell." ...
Then we hear that the monks in the convent arose and murmured together,
and questioned Fra Egidio about the mysterious guest with whom he had
stayed so long in close embrace, and Fra Egidio told them very simply
that it had been the King of France. Then they upbraided him for his
discourtesy towards so great a man: "O Fra Egidio, wherefore hast thou
been so rude as never to have spoken even one syllable to so devout a
King who came all the way from France that he might see thee, and hear
from thee some holy words?" And Fra Egidio answers them with the
child-like and unruffled candour peculiar to his order, and begs them
not to marvel at the mutual silence of that meeting,
"Because," he says, "as soon as we had embraced each other the
light of wisdom revealed and showed to me his heart, and likewise
mine to him; and thus by a divine concurrence seeing into each
other's hearts, we understood far better, he, what I desired to say
to him, and I, what he desired to say to me, than if we had spoken
together with our mouths; and we found far greater consolation than
if we had attempted to explain with our voice that which we felt in
our hearts: for, had we spoken with our mouths, such is the
faultiness of human speech, we should more likely have had
discomfort in the place of comfort: now therefore understand, that
the King went from me marvellously contented, and his whole soul
refreshed."
So King Louis of France went out across the Umbrian hills, the Umbrian
Saint returned to his cell, and Perugia added a new and splendid number
to her list of royal visitors. Probably this story, be it a myth or be
it truth, has caused the confusion between the French King and the
French bishop, one of whom is certainly a patron of the city to this
day. The lilies of France are scattered everywhere at the feet of the
Umbrian griffin. But the true patron of Perugia is S. Louis Bishop of
Toulouse, and as far as we know the visit of King Louis of France was
only recorded by the author of the _Fioretti_.
CHAPTER VIII
_Via dei Priori--Perugino's House,--Madonna della Luce--S.
Bernardino and S. Francesco al Prato_
Just under the bell tower of the Palazzo Pubblico a narrow street,
called the Via dei Priori, well-paved, and preserving many
characteristics of the mediæval city, runs steeply down through the
Porta S. Susanna and into the open country by the station. Once when the
nobles were fighting in the square above, or more probably in the Corso,
the blood flowed so freely that it is said to have come running down the
street in a crimson stream at night--hence the name of Via del
Piscinello which is given to the street a little lower down. The houses
are very old, very grim, and closely packed in the Via dei Priori. The
_lumieri_, where the heads of enemies were hung, stand out maliciously
upon the walls of the Palazzo Pubblico to the right, and many of the
palaces have still their narrow doors for the dead or _porte del
mortuccio_.[76]
From the Chiesa Nuova (built in 1218 but entirely remodelled and spoilt
by bad decoration) a narrow street leads off to the left and down past
some charming red brick palaces into a narrower street where what is
known as Perugino's house still stands.
[Illustration: THE OLD COLLEGIO DEI NOTARI, SAID TO BE THE STUDIO OF
PERUGINO]
Though there seems to be but very slight evidence about the real abode
of the painter, his studio has been fixed in the beautiful old corner
palace with the red marble windows in the Via del Commercio off the
Corso. But one place does as well as another to pin a legend to,
[Illustration: TORRE DEGLI SCIRRI]
and this little house of mean appearance tucked away in a dark and
somewhat dingy street, with only a marble slab to mark it, serves the
purpose well enough. Indeed, if one believed Vasari, one could with
ease imagine Perugino choosing such a spot as this to hide his wife, his
crimes (?) and all his money in, and see him hurrying thither in the
dusk of a December evening from some big church or city where he had
been to paint an altar-piece for prince or pontiff. One can even picture
the long dark cloak he wore to cover up his money bag, his little cap
pressed low upon his rather cloudy forehead, and one can almost hear him
chuckle as he eats his maccaroni and strokes the fair hair of the woman
he so loved, thinking with the joy of malice of all the other women who
would come to pray and weep before his saints and his _Pietàs_.
But this is nothing better than a dream. Blankly one looks at the slab
above the door, at the wall from which even the frescoe of S.
Christopher has vanished, and from the utter silence of the place one
hurries away and further on down the Via dei Priori. The street ends,
and one passes into the open country through the Porta S. Susanna. Just
above is the _Torre degli Scirri_--one of the only specimens remaining
of all the wealth of towers in the past. A tree has grown upon its very
top as though to seal the peace which follows after strife. A little
further on is the small church of the Madonna della Luce. The front of
this church is a very dainty bit of architecture and was designed by
Cesarino Roscetto, a Perugian goldsmith, who also made the silver shrine
in the cathedral which holds the Virgin's ring. It has inside a
beautiful altar piece by some scholar of Perugino. The picture is
exquisite in colour and in sentiment. Siepi gives a long history about
it, which, although it does not altogether fit in with the facts of
dates, we cannot refrain from mentioning here. (Perhaps he was alluding
to some older fresco which has disappeared.) He says that on the 12th of
September 1513 some youths were playing at cards under the
[Illustration: ETRUSCAN ARCH OF S. LUCA]
wall of a butcher's shop which in old days stood outside the church of
S. Francesco. One of them, a young barber, called Fallerio, lost heavily
at the game, whereat he swore a terrible oath, hearing which blasphemy
the Madonna in her shrine by the wayside closed her eyes, and kept them
closed for the space of four whole days. On the 16th she opened them
again. So great was the fame of this miracle, and the sensation it
caused, that processions and great multitudes of people came to worship
before her shrine, and on the 7th of April 1513 her picture was carried
to its present place in the new church which the people built for her,
and she was no longer called the Madonna di S. Luca, but the Madonna of
Light to commemorate this wonderful occurrence.
From the church one road leads out into the country through the old
Etruscan gate of S. Luca and another to the right into the Piazza della
Giustizia: that fair open green which holds one of the loveliest flowers
of Renaissance art--the façade of the Oratory of S. Bernardino.
S. BERNARDINO.
The Oratory was built in 1450 by the magistrates of Perugia, who were
anxious to leave to their city some enduring mark of the man whose
influence in times of extreme moral depravity and perpetual party strife
had been so purely one of good to the citizens of Perugia. The life of
S. Bernardino of Siena is familiar to most people. He, like S. Francis,
exercised an extraordinary power over the minds of men in the middle
ages by the mere example of pure living and sweetness of character, but
perhaps his power lay a little more in preaching and in stirring men to
action than that of the saint of Assisi, whose influence was more
absolutely that of peace.
S. Bernardino of Siena was born at Massa, near Siena, in 1380. His
mother died early, leaving the child to the care of an aunt. By this
lady, Diana degli Albizeschi, he was educated with extreme care and
tenderness, and he grew up beautiful, gracious, and very pure of heart.
At seventeen he joined a confraternity at Siena, and by the early age of
twenty-four he had already shaken an always weak constitution by his
great labours for the sick in the time of plague. He died at Aquila in
the Abruzzi, and was canonized in 1450 by Pope Nicholas V. S.
Bernardino's life was one perpetual strain towards the light in an age
which was dark, and one of its greatest objects had been to reconcile
the mutual hatred of the Guelphs and Ghibellines. He was full of
child-like faith and wise philanthropy; and tradition says that it was
he who started the first _Monte di Pietà_ or pawnshop, and Perugia
claims the privilege of having seen the first of these institutions.[77]
The figure of S. Bernardino is always unmistakable in art, and it
becomes familiar to us in Perugia, where he exercised an extraordinary
power, and where he would preach from his pulpit in the public square to
an almost maddened crowd of penitents. The saint is always represented
holding a square tablet with the initials of Christ set round with rays
upon it, because he was accustomed to hold one of these whilst
preaching. His face is emaciated, but beautiful both in line and in
expression; it is a face which the spirit illumines with an unmistakable
glory. Mrs Jameson, in her life of the saint, says that the finest
sculptured portrait of him is that on the façade of his Oratory at
Perugia; and certainly, if taken merely as a graceful bit of art, few
things could do more honour to the man whose best tribute, however, will
always be his extraordinary hold on the hearts of men throughout the
whole of Italy.
In 1461 the people of Perugia called in a Florentine sculptor, Agostino
Ducci or Gucci, to ornament the façade of their new oratory. This
sculptor is described by both Vasari and Mariotti as Agostino _della
Robbia_, and connected, either as a son or a brother, with that
well-known family. The connection is, however, not proved, neither does
his work seem to corroborate it in any way.[78]
The façade of S. Bernardino is a marvellous and perhaps a unique thing
in art. The work on it is light and airy like the winds of spring. The
figures of the angels, the garlands, and the saint himself, are full of
that elegant and subtle charm which now and then surprises one in
sculpture. Ducci made wonderful use of the pale pink marble of the
country, mixing it with terra-cotta figures, bits of blue sky, and
marble, creamy white, for all his garlands. Perhaps the loveliest
figures, where all are lovely, are those of the six virtues, Mercy,[79]
Holiness, and Purity, Religion, Mortification, and Patience, on either
side of the entrance doors. But the different angels playing on
different instruments, and the flying angels round the figure of the
saint, are each delightful in their separate ways. Even the inevitable
griffin seems softened by the hand of the Florentine sculptor, and he
has admirably caught the purely spiritual nature of the saint, both in
the large central portrait, and in the smaller plaques where some of his
miracles are represented. Siepi gives a full description of the
different scenes:
[Illustration: MERCY. DETAIL ON FAÇADE OF THE ORATORY OF S. BERNARDINO]
"Under the two higher niches," he says, "are two squares, and on
the right one of these we see the Saint, who, whilst preaching on
the Isola Maggiore of our Lake of Trasimene received into his order
the blessed Giacomo of the Marches.... To the left," he continues,
"the Saint is discovered preaching, and illuminated by a star,
which in the full light of day shines over his head, a miracle
which happened in the city of Aquila five years before his death,
while preaching the praises of Mary.... Three other miracles of
the Saint are given on the frieze below. In the middle one of these
we see the Saint preaching to the people of Perugia, and the
bonfire which he made them light on the piazza of our Duomo, where
books of superstition, of necromancy and the law of astrology were
burned in public, together with fashionable follies of the period:
packs of cards, obscene pictures, forbidden weapons and ornaments
of female luxury--instruments all of iniquity and of delight.
Therefore it is that from the flames demons are seen to rise. In
the miracle to the right we see two children saved by the
intercession of the Saint from the furious waters of a mill-stream
in which, having been caught, they were miraculously saved by the
Saint from death...."
It is not very clear why this particular spot was chosen from all others
on which to build the Oratory of S. Bernardino, but it was probably
because it stood so close to the convent of S. Francesco al Prato, where
the Saint, who himself was a Franciscan, would naturally stay when he
paid his visits to Perugia. We hear that he was deeply attached to a
certain bell which hung in the campanile of the convent, and which bore
the name of Viola and was noted for the peculiar sweetness of its voice.
It happened once, when all the bells of the town were ringing, that
Viola fell. S. Bernardino was preaching at the minute up in the square
of the cathedral, but by a miracle he heard her fall and stopped his
sermon for an instant, saying to the people: "My children, Viola has
fallen, but she is not harmed!" and he was right. Viola was set up in
her place again and rings with a clear strong voice, dear to the heart
of the Perugians, even in the present century.[80]
* * * * *
Long even before the birth of S. Bernardino a much older order or
_Confraternità_ held its meetings in the small church at the back of the
present oratory. This was the _Confraternità di S. Andrea della
Giustizia_, and it was one of the earliest of those remarkable
societies--one may almost describe them as religious guilds--which rose
up out of that great devotional movement at the end of the middle ages
which resulted in the extraordinary processions and displays of the
"Flagellants." "The movement," says Doctor Creighton, "passed away; but
it has left its dress as a distinctive badge to the confraternities of
mercy which are familiar to the traveller in the streets of many cities
of Italy."
Morals, as we have seen, were very low in the thirteenth and the
fourteenth century; blood flowed freely in party feuds and towns were
devastated and corrupted by the strife of church and people. All these
things, and the great pestilence which ravaged the country and the
cities, were taken, and probably with perfect justice, to be the signs
of an offended deity. "It was then," says Bonazzi, "when men had grown
familiar with death, that those strange songs arose which the people
sang in the moonlight, wrapped in white sheets, whilst they danced the
dances of the dead about the streets, clanging the bones together in
weird accompaniment to their songs." Doctor Creighton[81] dates this
movement to the end of the fourteenth century. He says also that it
originated in Provence. Perugia, however, lays strong claim to having
herself sown the first seed, and this as early as the middle of the
thirteenth century, of the displays of the Flagellants.
In 1265 we read the strange tale of a monk who describes himself as
"_Fra Raniero Fasano de Peroscia Comenzatore della Regola dei Battuti di
Bologna_." Raniero tells us that he was accustomed, as a young monk at
Perugia, to lead a life of excessive privation and abnegation, and one
day, when scourging himself as was his custom, he was joined in a
vision by certain saints who accompanied him to the church of S.
Fiorenzo, and there they all beat themselves together in front of the
high altar. This vision occurred day after day to Raniero, but at last
one of the saints spoke to him and told him that it was the will of
heaven that men should purge their sins in this same fashion. Raniero
carried his tale to the Bishop, who expounded it in a sermon to the
inhabitants of Perugia, and this, according to some historians, was the
origin of all the fantastic demonstrations of public repentance which
soon spread over Italy, and from which, as years went by, there arose
the calmer and more practical institutions of Confraternities in the
several cities. One of the earliest of these at Perugia itself was the
company of S. Andrea, and it is interesting to read its laws and
statutes. Through its own annals we find that it was started in 1374,
during the reign of Pope Gregory XI. "for the furtherance of the worship
of God and of His Mother the blessed Virgin Mary, and of the glorious
martyrs and protectors of the city--Messers Sancto Ercolano, Sancto
Laurenzo, Sancto Costanzo, and Sancto Andrea the apostle; and for the
honour and estate of the Holy Mother Church and her protectors; and
further for the maintenance, the governing, the magnificence, and the
peaceful state of the people and the city of Peroscia."
Infinite and careful laws of civil and religious duties follow--laws for
the maintenance of peace and the Christian comfort of souls: the day of
the saint was to be most strictly kept, fasting if possible, or by him
who could not fast, a feast was to be given to a beggar or twenty-five
paternosters told, "and all must be at mass that day or pay a fine of
twenty soldi." But the great work of the society of S. Andrea was the
help and protection of criminals. Its members got permission from the
city government to meet those who were going to execution, and to
accompany them to the scene of death, comforting them by the way, and
sustaining them with prayers and even sweetmeats to the very last. In
early times criminals were beheaded far from the city walls; and in
Perugia the place of doom was down in the open country on the site of an
old Etruscan tomb, the Torre di S. Manno. "Wherefore," writes one
historian, "in the fatal passing of these miserable people, the pious
_disciplinati_ met them on the threshold, comforted them, assisted them,
and went with them even unto the gallows." Hence probably the name of
"Giustizia" given to this particular square, and not, as is usually
said, because justice was carried out on the spot itself.
The _Confraternità_ of S. Andrea continued to increase both in power and
in size. Other societies of the same charitable sort sprang up all
through the city, and after the death of S. Bernardino of Siena a new
one was started in his name at Porta Eburnea. But in one of the great
fights between the nobles, their buildings were so knocked about and
mutilated that the members of the society had to seek out different
quarters, and they then joined themselves to the older confraternity of
S. Andrea down at S. Francesco and thenceforth "worked together,
extending their labour of charity to the inspection of prisons, and to
the Christian comfort of prisoners."[82]
S. FRANCESCO AL PRATO.
To the right of the Oratory of S. Bernardino is the immense, but quite
ruined, church and convent of S. Francesco al Prato. S. Francesco, more
even than S. Domenico and so many of the churches of Perugia, is only
the skeleton of a once beautiful body from which the silken robes, the
jewels, even the flesh, have been torn rudely off by men and time. The
church was built in 1230, in the form of a Latin cross with a single
nave. But from the moment it was built, owing to the crumbling nature of
the soil, and the heavy and overweighted style of its architecture, it
was threatened with immediate destruction, so that in 1737 it fell in
almost completely.
Throughout the history of Perugia we read of great events which centred
in S. Francesco, of great men who were buried there, artists who
painted, and popes who blessed and prayed. Of all these former
splendours, nothing remains beyond a carcase of stone walls. The
pictures--the Raphael, the Pinturicchios and the Peruginos, with the
exception of Bonfigli's banner in the chapel of the Gonfalone,[83] and
one interesting early fresco down in the crypt,--have been removed to
the Pinacoteca and to other towns. Fortebraccio's bones have gone to the
museum, Fra Egidio's tomb is in the church near the museum, and the roof
has fallen in upon a rubbish heap of beams, and bricks, and mortar.
S. MARTINO.
There are several ways of returning to the Duomo from the Piazza della
Giustizia. One of the pleasantest runs through a bit of cultivated land
outside the town walls: the Via di San Francesco, and, joining the Via
della Conca, passes up under the Arco d'Augusta and back by the Via
Vecchia. But another way, which few could find who did not know of it,
winds back into the heart of the old town, actually crossing the
Etruscan walls in one place, and comes out opposite the Canonica, having
passed the little old church of S. Martino.
S. Martino is so old, and so much overshadowed by the big palace
opposite, it is sunk so low upon the street, that passing by it
hurriedly one scarcely recognises it as a church at all.[84] The high
altar has a very beautiful altar-piece by Giannicola Manni--one of the
loveliest bits of Umbrian colouring that we remember in Perugia, and
there is a rather faulty fresco by some scholar of Perugino on the west
wall, redeemed by that subtle and sweet charm peculiar to the work of
the master. The little church is guarded by a true friend, who not only
honours its pictures, but has even copied them with faithful care, and
the whole place is filled with something of the quiet and religious
fervour which lingers only after centuries of prayer and incense, and
which is lacking in so many of the more frequented churches of the
town.
CHAPTER IX
_Pietro Perugino and the Cambio_[85]
The name of Perugia is naturally connected with that of Pietro Vannucci
_detto il Perugino_, or, as he preferred to sign himself, _Petrus de
Castro Plebis_, who stamped the peculiar personality of his painting
upon a whole school of Renaissance Italian art. Vannucci was by no means
the first artist of the Umbrian school, but he was the man who brought
it into general notice, and it was in the city of Perugia that he lived
and worked, and had his school of painting.
The best of Perugino's work, however, with the exception of his frescoes
in the Cambio, is not to be found in his native town. The indefatigable
Napoleon had a profound admiration for Pietro's altar-pieces. He sought
them out, he insisted on getting every inch of them, down to their
smallest predellas, and the splendid pictures of S. Pietro, S. Lorenzo,
and S. Agostino went over the Alps to swell his galleries in the
Tuileries. The frescoes of the Cambio could not go, and they at least
remain exactly as the master painted them. To understand the man Pietro
as well as the artist, we must study in the Cambio, for there his
portrait hangs face to face with a whole set of his frescoes, and the
contrast of the painter's face and the faces he invariably gave to his
saints is almost as strange as that between the Umbrian saints and the
history of the times in which they lived and worked.
To understand the painters of Perugia one must understand the period in
which they were produced. One wonders whether Vasari reckoned at all
with this when he wrote his life of Perugino. The Florentine was not
particularly just to Umbrian painters in general, and of Pietro Vannucci
he paints a very unsympathetic portrait. He accuses him of two great
faults: avarice and irreligion, and these have become so inevitably
connected with Pietro's name that it is not easy to dispute them. Yet,
if not absolutely false, the facts have been grossly exaggerated.
Concerning the first--avarice--Vasari maintains that Pietro painted
exclusively for the sake of gain, and never for that of art or faith.
This accusation has been disproved by later writers in so far as the
early life of Perugino is concerned. We hear, for instance, that he
painted several banners for his native city in the time of plague and
war, that he asked no money for them, and when the time of need was past
he took them back and kept them in his studio. Also, merely as an
amusing anecdote, Vasari himself tells us that Pietro could open his
purse for the woman he loved, and dress her in the fairest and the
costliest clothes, setting the pins and folds himself upon her headgear.
In the latter part of his life, which was not without some shadow, he
did paint for money, allowing soulless pictures to pass from his studio
to the altars of believing monks and ladies; but his best work belongs
to his earliest period, and there is no reason to believe that it was
uninspired save by the inspiration of gold.
Concerning the second accusation--lack of faith--we have dealt with it
at the end of Pietro's life, and we can only add here that the man must
have been of super-human gentleness who could live through the scenes
that Vannucci lived through, and maintain the faith of childhood.
The portrait in the Cambio is a stumbling block. The expression is heavy
and unspiritual. This fact jars, and we resent it. (See frontispiece.)
But whatever Pietro's appearance, whatever his personal character may
have been, he did two things: he left behind him an enduring mark in the
history of art, and he gave the soul to that considerable school of
painting from which young Raphael went forth into the wondering world,
together with a host of other painters whose tendency was entirely in
the direction of the spiritual and purifying elements in human life.
* * * * *
Away to the southwest of Perugia, above the lakes of Trasimene and
Chiusi, with a wide view southwards towards Rome, and northwards to
Cortona, is the little Umbrian hill-town of Città della Pieve. It is so
deeply buried in its oak woods that one can barely see it from the hills
and plains around it. The town is very old and very sleepy, built of red
bricks with hardly any stones, and scarcely any buildings of importance.
The streets seem fallen dead asleep. "Why do you come here? The place is
dead. Nothing ever happens in our city," said the melancholy daughter of
the landlord, and the girl, by her unconscious words, explained the very
reason of our visit.
Nothing ever happens in Città della Pieve. The town has fallen on sleep
in its delightful landscape--on sleep as silent and profound as that of
all the fossil shells in the banks along the roads which lead to it. But
the place is strangely and marvellously beautiful; it holds the very
essence of that intense religious charm peculiar to the landscapes of
Umbria, and to the painters who have painted them; without exaggeration,
we may say that the city looks to-day just exactly as it looked over
four hundred years ago, at the time when, to the lovers of art, its
history began and ended.[86]
* * * * *
Pietro Vannucci de Castro Plebis _detto il Perugino_, was born at Città
della Pieve in the year 1446. His parents were very poor, but they were
of a good family and position. There were many children, and life was a
struggle for bread in the small boy's home. When he was about eight, his
father, Christoforo Vannucci, decided to educate him as a painter, and
so he brought him to the city of Perugia, and there, as Vasari says,
"this child, who had been reared in penury and want, was given as a shop
drudge to a painter who was not particularly distinguished in his
calling, but who held the art in great veneration, and highly honoured
the men who excelled therein." The painter was probably Bonfigli, one of
the most delightful artists of the Umbrian school, but Pietro must have
gathered instruction from other sources too, from Fiorenzo di Lorenzo
and Piero della Francesca, who we know were painting at that time. Maybe
the boy met them at their work in churches, maybe he even travelled with
them as a sort of journeyman. But it was probably Bonfigli who early
inspired him with an ambitious desire to spread his wings in higher
spheres of art than the little Umbrian town afforded him, and who gave
him the worldly-wise advice retailed to us at some length by Vasari:
Perugino must go to Florence,
"for the air of that city generates a desire for glory and honour,
and gives a natural quickness to the perceptions of men. Yet it is
true that when a man has acquired sufficient for his purposes in
Florence, if he wishes to effect more than merely to live from day
to day, as do the beasts that perish, and desires to become rich,
he must depart from its boundaries and seek another market for the
excellence of his works and for the reputation conferred on artists
by that city. For the city of Florence treats her painters as Time
treats her works, which, having perfected, he destroys, and by
little and little gradually consumes."
Pietro listened to these naïve counsels; he drank them in and he
followed them out to the letter. When quite a young man he started
across the hills to Florence. He probably travelled as a journeyman,
begging or earning his bread along the way. He reached Florence, entered
the studio of Andrea Verrocchio, buried himself in a passionate study of
his art, and, barely ten years after the date when, as an almost unknown
artist, he had entered Florence with the secret of his genius in his
soul, he left it again to go to Rome and paint a portion of the Sistine
Chapel at the command of the reigning pope. Pietro studied in good
schools and in excellently good society. In Florence he probably met
with men like Botticelli, Credi, and certainly Leonardo da Vinci.
Raphael's father, Giovanni Santi, is said to have written the following
lines about the two young painters:
"Due giovan par d'etate e par d'amore
Lionardo da Vinci, e 'l Perusino
Pier della Pieve, ch'è un divin pittore."
Divine in truth were the two young men, for they were to be the fathers
of the Lombard and the Umbrian schools of painting.
Perugino's earliest commissions for pictures were received in Florence,
but nearly all the work of that period is lost. We cannot exaggerate the
loss, but it is useless now to dwell on it and to describe the vanished
frescoes of the Gesuati convent. Pietro was
[Illustration: PERUGINO: MADONNA AND PATRON SAINTS OF PERUGIA PAINTED
FOR THE MAGISTRATES' CHAPEL AT PERUGIA, NOW IN THE VATICAN AT ROME]
called to Rome about the year 1483. There he painted several pictures on
the walls of the Sistine chapel. Only two of them remain, and the
figures of Michelangelo's Last Judgment have long obliterated the
sweet-faced Umbrian saints and landscapes which used to cover the east
wall.[87] Having spent a little time in Rome, Perugino returned to his
native land, and the best of his paintings belong to that period--namely
to the years 1490-1502.
This is no place in which to describe the works of Perugino's prime. The
world knows them and the capitals of Europe possess them, but from the
city of Perugia, for which some of the very best were painted, they have
been taken away by "_quel stupendo ladro_--Napoleone Bonaparte."[88]
Perugino's fame spread like wildfire over the cities of Italy. "This
_maestro Pietro_," says a very old chronicler, "was distinguished
(_singolare_) in his art throughout the universal world." So intense was
his fame and popularity, and his work in such demand, that it was
impossible for him, for one single man, to supply all the work which men
demanded of him. We should not therefore feel surprised at the number of
second-rate pictures, planned by the master and carried out by his
scholars, which have come down to us bearing his name.
From the period of his prime, Perugino perhaps went wrong--that is to
say, he realised his own charms, specified, docketted them, stereotyped
the smile of his saints and set his scholars working, so to speak, on
the reproduction of the labels he himself had painted. His personality
extended itself into a school, where, at times, it became mere
caricature. Other stars had risen on the horizon, great and shining;
some of them straight from the master's own workshop, some from other
cities. There is a pitiful story told of the jealousy of the old Umbrian
master for the growing fame of Michelangelo. It ended in a lawsuit from
which Pietro withdrew his claims; but the tale may be unfounded, and we
know that Vannucci praised the David when called to pass a judgment on
it, we also know that he named one of his own children after the Tuscan
sculptor.
But if we can recognise the later weakness of Perugino, the men who
lived in his days and who openly declared him to be the master of
masters never apparently recognised it. They seem to have worshipped his
decadence as they had worshipped his dawn. They paid large sums for the
feeble saints which rose like ghosts beneath his brush. They desired no
better man to save them in the time of plague and bloodshed by the
creation of a S. Sebastian which they might carry in procession, or a
Madonna that they might kneel to. And truly to the end an ineffable
sweetness, a religious amiability, is the undercurrent of the master's
painting.
Pietro Vannucci died of the plague in the year 1523 at Fontignano, a
small village near Perugia, where he had been called to paint a S.
Sebastian in the time of pestilence. He was hurried into some desolate
grave under an oak by the wayside, and he died, as they say, without
faith of immortality, denying to the last that Saviour, whose face and
figure, whose Mother and surroundings, he, of all men on earth, had
striven through life to idealize.
So writes Vasari, but on this accusation we would pause. There may have
been some sickness in Pietro's soul, we feel and see it in his work and
portrait; but he had lived in terrible times and seen much evil and
striven to paint much good. The fact that he was buried in unconsecrated
ground proves literally nothing, for an old chronicler, describing the
wretchedness of the times, combined with the terrors of the plague,
tells us, "that such was the state of affairs, that the dead were paid
as little attention to in those times as in our day we might give to
goats or sheep; and that especially in the country where no one attended
to anything, all died, almost without exception, not like men but almost
like beasts; and as the consecrated ground did not suffice for burial
they put the bodies into ditches, covering them up with a very little
earth." Furthermore, "it was prohibited to visit the sick, and to attend
the funerals of the dead." This being the case, how was it possible to
find the corpse of one old man in order to lay it in consecrated ground?
Pietro's sons tried hard to find it. We read of them: of Giambatisto,
Francesco and Michaelangelo, searching diligently but in vain for their
father's bones, that they might lay them in the Church of S.
Agostino.[89]
Mariotti the chronicler of Perugino, whose loving and infinitely careful
search has soothed, if it could not obliterate Vasari's spiteful words,
ends his notes on Perugino with the following quotation from a Latin
poet:--
"Se pictus moreris, non moriturus obis."
* * * * *
It was just at the end of the period of Pietro's prime, namely, about
the years 1499 to 1507, that he was commissioned to paint the walls of
the Cambio. It is interesting to remember that at this time Perugino was
in correspondence with the monks of Orvieto, who wished him to paint the
frescoes in their Duomo. He had long dallied with his answer, he had
certain other large works on hand, but when his fellow-citizens sent in
their request that he should undertake this very considerable work for
them he did not hesitate; he threw over his previous engagement, which,
as we know, was magnificently taken up by Signorelli, and he at once set
to work upon the walls of the Cambio.
Perugino was perhaps out of his element in this new undertaking. He had
no choice of subjects, for they had been selected for him by the members
of the Guild, who throughout show a most naïve interest and concern in
the decoration of their rooms. These men were determined to secure the
very best work they could; their seats, their panels, their doors were
of the finest wood, worked by the most skilful carpenters and artists of
the day. They were not wise in literature themselves, so they applied to
the best scholar of their city, Francesco Matarazzo, for instructions,
and it was he who most probably arranged the curious mixture of classic
subjects and inscriptions which Perugino, with a certain child-like and
ingenuous persistence, painted as he had painted all the familiar
subjects of the Bible. For the ceiling of the audience chamber, which
deals entirely with mythological figures, he may have consulted certain
old illustrated missals in the Perugian archives; one of these, a Cicero
(unhappily stolen from the library some years ago), very probably
suggested some of the figures and beasts of the Zodiac which decorate
the ceiling.
* * * * *
The impression made upon one by the painting in the Cambio is very calm
and pleasing. The whole is a harmony--a harmony of subjects sacred and
profane such as the classic-loving minds of scholars in the days of the
Renaissance delighted to create, and give to one of their purely
religious artists to carry out successfully. The left wall is covered
by two frescoes--two lines of figures--eight Romans and four Greeks.
Behind these figures stretches the fair, calm, Umbrian landscape, dear
to the heart of the Umbrian painter. In the sky above them are four
female figures, Prudence and Justice, Fortitude and Temperance, and
below them small angels hold the long inscription which is written over
every group. Very soft and tender is Perugino's conception of Roman
Emperors and Greek philosophers. They have the hands of women, their
faces are sweet like the faces of saints. They look a little sad, and
very gentle as they bend towards each other--not one of these men could
have proved a ruler of nations. What did Perugino mean when he painted
in the second group this visionary host of warriors? Surely he dreamed
of some fair Umbrian girls that he had met in May along the lanes, but
not of heroes. These youths, with their wonderful headgear and their
long, limp bodies would have fallen as field flowers fall before the
scythe or even a summer shower. That they are fair no one denies, and in
the face of Cincinnatus there is a mysterious sweetness which disarms
our criticism; but they are merely spiritual or imaginative portraits of
the men whose names are carefully inscribed beneath them. The opposite
wall is covered by a group of Prophets and of Sibyls--a combination
which was not uncommon in later Christian art. To the left Isaiah,
Moses, Daniel, David and Jeremiah, and opposite them the Persian,
Cumaean, Lybian, Tyburtine and Delphic sibyls. Perugino crowned this
most singular mixture of pagan and of Hebrew figures with a portrait of
God the Father in glory. Many of the faces in this group are very
beautiful, notably that of Daniel, which is said to be a portrait of
young Raphael, and is a truly exquisite thing. Jeremiah is represented
as a young and very melancholy man, and his face is said to be a
portrait of Pinturicchio, but if this fact is true the likeness is much
idealized.
In the two frescoes at the end of the room, namely, the Nativity and the
Transfiguration, Pietro was in his old and dearer element. The former of
these is a beautiful bit of his best religious work, but it has been
terribly damaged by smoke, as the lamp of the Cambio used to hang
beneath it.
There is some dispute as to whether Pietro worked alone at these
frescoes. It appears almost certain that he did do so, with the
exception, perhaps, of one of his scholars, l'Ingegno, who is said to
have painted the face of Christ in the Transfiguration.[90] The ceiling,
where the planets are painted in medallions, is perhaps the work of his
school, although the drawings were entirely supplied by Perugino.
Pinturicchio is said to have helped in the painting, and Raphael
doubtless watched it with delight, and from it drew suggestions which he
carried later to the Vatican. Delightful animals, dragons, and different
birds pull the chariots of the various planets. The arabesques are
infinitely varied, and form a study in themselves. Small boys and
cherubs ride astride of dragons or of goats, and strange fantastic
animals turn and twist themselves through flower stalks and bowls of
fruits and flowers. Squirrels, peacocks, snakes, and many other known
and unknown creatures, cover the arches like enamelled gems.
* * * * *
It is curious to pass from Perugino's frescoes in the audience chamber
of the Cambio to those of his pupil Giannicola Manni in the chapel of
the same guild. Manni's work is very rare, and indeed it is barely seen
outside Perugia.[91] He was a scholar of Perugino, and in his earlier
years he followed in the steps of his master, but in later life he went
to Florence and there acquired a love for the style of Andrea del Sarto.
The influence of the two distinct schools of painting is strongly marked
in the chapel of the Cambio, the ceiling of which was painted early in
Manni's life, the walls after his return from Florence. Manni is a
genial and attractive painter. He paints exactly as he pleases,
regardless of religion or of history, and in his series of scenes from
the life of S. John he gives us a set of luxurious human beings leading
a very human cinque-cento life. The colour is bright, the figures
portraits of the time. The ladies are very decolletées, fat, and dressed
in comfortable gowns of the most beautiful stuffs and the simplest cut.
One lady in the Nativity is particularly attractive. She wears a
gorgeous gown of red; her fluffy yellow hair is neatly gathered in a
net, embossed with bobs of the purest gold. S. Elizabeth, too, may be
envied the splendour of her bed, and the looping of its heavy damask
curtains. There is a sense of luxury, a sort of wanton abundance which
is almost Venetian, throughout Manni's frescoes of the life of S. John.
In the banquet scene, a dog and cat are preparing for a playful battle
in the foreground of the picture. Had the Umbrian painter seen some
canvasses of Veronese? Certainly he had wandered far afield from the
early teaching which shows so clear upon the ceiling. He died in 1544,
and most of his work, which we know to have consisted chiefly of
banners, is lost to us, lost too, the painting of the city clock which
Mariotti records for us with such minute precision.[92]
* * * * *
On leaving the Cambio it would be well to look in at the Magistrate's
audience chamber which opens on to the Corso two doors further on. It is
a magnificent piece of Renaissance woodwork where every inch is
exquisitely carved and finished. Perugia is rich in rare and lovely
carvings, but nowhere more than in this single hall.
CHAPTER X
_The Pinacoteca_[93]
" ...Parmi de pareilles moeurs, les âmes se maintiennent
vivantes, et le sol est tout labouré pour faire germer les arts.
Mais quel contraste entre ces arts et ces moeurs!"
H. TAINE, "Pérouse et Assise," _Voyage en Italie_.
There is perhaps no gallery in Europe as single-minded--as devoted to
one set of men--as the gallery at Perugia. In passing through its
separate rooms one feels none of that painful sense of clash and strain
produced by a mixture of different schools, which haunts one in so many
collections of statues or of pictures; and the most tired and
indifferent traveller will feel something soothed and softened in his
brain before he turns his back upon the quiet sacred pictures of the
Umbrian masters.
In no land perhaps, and in no school of art, was the feeling of the
painters more purely and more absolutely _religious_ than in the land of
Umbria. The saints were painted for places where saints were worshipped;
the Christs have the love of the Father in their faces; the Marys are
Mothers of pity and of grace; the bishops have renounced the ways of
earth--their faces are calm and grey beneath their mitres. And the
Umbrian angels are crowned with roses, but they are the roses of
Paradise, and not the flowers of earth and of her banquets. Think of the
galleries of Venice, of Bonifazio's Dives, and the glorious women of
Titian; think of the Roman collections, of Bologna and Guercino; nay,
even think of the later art of Florence, and then come back to these
calm Umbrian masters. The gap is wide; the one is full of the passion
and splendour of earth, the other of the sentiment of heaven.
In M. Rio's chapters on the Umbrian school (_l'Art Chrétien_, vol. ii.),
he dwells at length on the purely spiritual tendency of the Umbrian
school, and to enforce this he points out two of its most remarkable
characteristics; firstly he remarks that the Umbrian painters rarely
painted portraits, and secondly, he gives an account of one of their
chief products, namely, the painting of the _gonfalone_ or banner.
We have seen in the history how the inhabitants of Perugia, driven to
desperation by their own wickedness, would take fits of the most
passionate religious revolt, and, casting aside the vanities of the
flesh, half kill themselves with cords and stripes and lamentations.
This excess of repentance took different forms. Sometimes, as we know,
it resulted in an appeal to the saints through wild, mad litanies; at
others in an appeal to Christ's mercy through art; and it was at such
times that the Umbrian school, beginning with Bonfigli and ending in
works like Raphael's Sistine Madonna and Baroccio's much later designs,
painted the _gonfalone_, a style of picture which is very typical of
Umbria, and which should be looked at with a knowledge of the events
from which it first originated. These banners were carried about the
city, the priests walking in front, the populace behind, a wail and
shriek of lamentation falling on the air as the procession passed.
Sometimes, as in the banner of Bonfigli at S. Fiorenzo, a poem of
supplication to God would be painted, upheld by angels, on the banner
itself, with passionate words of prayer upon it. It is difficult to
render into English the palpitating style of the original verses, but we
quote some passages to illustrate the sentiment which inspired the
painting of the _gonfalone_ of S. Fiorenzo (the date of the banner is
about 1476):
"Oh, most obstinate and wicked people--cruel, proud, and full of
all iniquity, who hast placed thy faith and thy desires on things
which are full of a mortal misery, I, the angel of Heaven, am sent
unto you from God to tell you that he will put an end to all your
wounds and weeping, your ruin and your curse, through the mediation
of Mary.... Turn, turn your eyes, most miserable mortals, to the
great examples of the past and present, to the utter miseries and
heavy evils which Heaven sends to you because of all your sins:
your homicide and your adultery, your avarice and luxury.... O,
miserable beings, the justice of heaven works not in a hurry, but
it punishes always, even as men deserve.... Nineveh was a city
florid and magnificent, and Babylon was likewise, but now they are
as nothing; and Sodom and Gomorrah, behold them now--a morass of
sulphur and of fetid waters.... Oh, therefore be grateful, and
acknowledge the benefits and graces of Our Saviour, and let your
souls burn hotly with the fire of faith and charity, of hope and
faithful love.... But, and if you should again grow slothful and
unwilling to renounce your errors, I foretell a second judgment
upon you, and I reckon that it will prove more terrible, more cruel
than the first...."
The _gonfalone_ on which this menacing appeal of the angel of God is
painted is by Bonfigli, and was made at the time of a terrible
pestilence which raged through Perugia at the end of the fifteenth
century.
In Umbria therefore, more than in most countries, the history of her art
should be studied side by side with the history of the times in which it
was produced, for the one was, as it were, the spiritual escape or
reaction from the other. The art of Umbria was perhaps only another form
of that spirit which produced the teaching of S. Francis. The first
pictures of Perugia are full of man's best prayers, the earliest of them
bear his stripes, in very few can we detect his wantonness or humour;
and when we say that the later ones are imbued with man's weakness, or
at least his sentimentality, we make a most apparent platitude. It is
sufficient in this place to note that whatever the final faults of the
school, it originated in a purpose that was pure--the purpose of men who
strove to represent the very opposite of all that fury, blood, and
passion peculiar to the time and place in which they lived and painted.
To most people, therefore, who once have grasped these facts, there will
be something sad, nay, even offensive, in the Pinacoteca at Perugia.
Why, and for whom, were these purely religious paintings torn from their
niches in the quiet churches, and hung up, side by side, in a glare of
light on the walls of a gallery? How pale, and how sad they look, after
all, the saints and the Marys, the angels and the holy Child, here on
the bare grey walls. The thing has been said a hundred times before, but
a friend at Perugia said it to us in a way we have never forgotten. He
was a priest, and he loved his church. We were discussing together the
present system of local picture galleries. His eyes grew dark. "Yes," he
said, "it is as though they would tear a child from the breasts of its
mother. The mother withers and dies, and the child dies too, without her
care in the wilderness where they laid it."
* * * * *
It is the student of art who profits by the present arrangement, for the
pictures at Perugia are not difficult to find. With the exception of the
Duomo and S. Pietro, most of the churches have been ransacked, and their
canvasses and panels neatly stored in perfect order of dates and names
on the walls of the Pinacoteca, and it is an easy matter, even in a
quiet morning's stroll, to follow here the rise and fall of Umbrian art.
In the limited space before us it will not be possible to give anything
but a skeleton sketch of the school of Perugino. Larger works contain
abundant store of facts about this particular centre of Italian art; but
if one only shuts one's eyes and dreams of it, the three great names
start up before one: Pietro Vannucci, Raphael, and Pinturicchio. Close
upon these follow other names; some, and these perhaps the fairest and
most charming, rise like the dawn behind them: Ottaviano Nelli,
Bonfigli, and Fiorenzo di Lorenzo. The pupils follow after Manni, Lo
Spagna, Eusebio di S. Giorgio, l'Ingegno, Sinibaldo Ibi, Tiberio
d'Assisi and a host of others, who die at last, feeble, but not utterly
degraded, in the works of the two Alfanis.
* * * * *
An easy-going historian of Perugia summed up the earliest stages of her
art in the following sentence: "I have not been able to discover that
Perugia had any painters before the time of Bonfigli, but even if she
had them, they will not have been worthy of mention." The assertion was
sweeping, and later writers have taken pains to contradict it, but for
those who have only time for a superficial and general study of Perugian
pictures it yet holds a good deal of truth. No great original work (with
the exception of the missal workers, in which style of art Perugia is
very rich) is left to us from the hand of a Perugian artist before the
time of Bonfigli, and the early history of her art may be said to have
been a great deal that of outside influences, for from very early times
the best and greatest masters appear, like foreign tribes before them,
to have climbed the hill and left some subtle marks upon her churches
and her palaces.[94]
As the School of Siena died, that of Umbria awoke to life. Close upon
the heels of Taddeo Bartoli, those men followed who were born to precede
the School of Perugino. Before them there were around Perugia only
phantoms: stiff saints on panels and on parchment, without dates, ghosts
of unattained, though dimly felt, ideals--a scattered flock of
"primitives," left here and there on chapel walls or psalters. Then
gradually, all through Umbria and her border lands, in a steady circle
of glory, like the stars on a summer night, the lights arose and burned.
At Gubbio, Camerino, Foligno, Gualdo, Fabriano, and Urbino we trace
their steady progress through the work of men like Nelli, Piero della
Francesca, Gentile da Fabriano, Niccolò Alunno, and many others. And as
these stars arose great comets travelled through them--Giotto, Fra
Angelico, Benozzo Gozzoli, Filippo Lippi, and others, till the whole sky
was full. Then from the centre, straight from the hill of Città della
Pieve--there rose Pietro Perugino, and to his school came one with the
halo of pure art upon his forehead,--Raphael Sanzio of Urbino.
* * * * *
The following notes on the Pinacoteca and its pictures may be of use to
anyone who requires a few more details than a guide-book can supply.
They pretend to be nothing like a serious criticism, for the history of
art is long and the books about it full; in most of them the art of
Umbria is freely treated. We have gleaned our notes about the painters
of Perugia from such sources as Vasari (who, however, is often
prejudiced), Crowe and Cavalcaselle, and several local works. Any
personal gossip has been drawn from the ever delightful works of
Mariotti, whose words, if they be now and then a little antiquated, are
as trustworthy as those of a faithful student's only can be. We have
dealt chiefly with the work of the Umbrian painters, and indeed, with
the exception of Fra Angelico's panels and those of some of the Sienese
masters, there is little else to study in this small and charming
gallery.
* * * * *
The Umbrian School followed close upon that of Siena, and the Gallery of
Perugia has some fine bits of Sienese work, notably some panels by
Taddeo Bartoli (1363-1422) in Sala IV. This room has some other good
panels of early masters--of masters who probably influenced the
Perugians, but whose names are lost to us.[95]
ROOM I.
_Sala dei Cimelii._
The first room in the gallery is devoted to the very earliest art of
Siena and Umbria, and is one of those rather painful collections of
pictures which we find in every local Italian gallery--a room of the
primitive painters--which are, as the narrow path of art, beset with
many thorns, where only those who passionately love the goal need try to
push the briars back and tread the damp and pebbles. But we never
forget, though we may even dislike, the pitiful pale figures of the
crucified Christ, and the staring wooden saints in triptychs, for in
them is shown the strain of technical ignorance, but of ignorance which
strives with passionate pain to get beyond itself and soar towards the
expression of some deep emotion. This strain and impotent desire is
amply shown in the monstrous figure of our Saviour by Magaritone
d'Arezzo (see No. 26), which used to hang inside the chapel of S.
Bernardino. Such as it is that figure had the seed of art in it, and of
an art which, perhaps, had a greater power of appeal to the souls of men
and women in pain than all the finished figures of the later painters.
No. 28 is an interesting picture, inasmuch as the Bishop whom it
represents holds tight to his breast a picture of the old town of
Perugia. No. 16 is one of the earliest paintings known in Perugia. It is
terribly damaged, and it is difficult to trace the story of the Saint in
the battered little panels. These same panels were the first coffin of
Beato Egidio (see p. 198). Sometime after his death a splendid tomb was
made for the Saint, which can still be seen in the church of the
University, and when the humbler coffin was pulled to pieces, some
unknown local painter took the strange fancy to paint on it the history
of the man whose bones it had first covered, together with an accurate
portrait of his new and lovelier tomb. There are many other pictures in
this room, among them (No. 11) an exquisite fragment of some old
predella with two small angels on it; and one or two remains of early
Sienese work.
_Bonfigli._
The room which follows that devoted to the early schools, namely, the
Cappella del Bonfigli, is to a student of history one of the most
interesting points in the whole gallery, for here, through the frescoes
of a most childlike and delightful painter, we live again the life of
old Perugia; and here too we stand, face to face, with the authentic
work of a man whose celebrity formerly centred round the fact that he
was the first master of Perugino, but who, as the years go by, will,
doubtless, ever more and more stand on his own feet, and shine because
of some strange, subtle and ever-living charm, that of the individual,
which clings to all his work.
The Pinacoteca has many of Bonfigli's works, and no one who once has
realised the fashion in which this early Umbrian master crowned his
women and his angels will ever be able to forget it. How thin and
exquisite the veils upon the pale, calm heads of his Madonnas; how fair
and neat the wreaths of roses on the yellow hair of his young angels!
Bonfigli was, indeed, a pleasant painter, and it is strange to think
that his home relations were of a tempestuous order: "Certainly he had a
wife," says Mariotti, "and he had her of such a sort that she caused him
nothing but anxiety; moreover, he was in constant strife with her." But
Bonfigli was not always calm in his painting. He could be humorous, he
could have a touch of Carpaccio in him, as will be seen in his frescoes
for the Magistrates' Chapel; but he could also be passionate and
dramatic. To understand him fully one must study him in his _gonfaloni_,
or banners. Perugia has five of these--one of S. Bernardino, now in the
Pinacoteca, another in the sacristy of S. Francesco al Prato; another in
S. Fiorenzo (see p. 232); the fourth in S. Maria Nuova; and the fifth in
S. Lorenzo.[96] All have suffered from exposure and from restoration,
but they are unique and individual forms of art. The Christ in them is
inexorable and revengeful, Death strives with man, saints and the
Madonna try to interfere, and sad and supplicating groups of citizens
kneel by their city walls and pray for grace.
Nothing is definitely known about the early life of Bonfigli. There
seems to be no record of his birth. He was probably born about 1420, and
died about 1496. The first authentic mention of his work is in 1454,
when he undertook a commission from the priors and their chaplain to
paint the walls of the Magistrates' Chapel in the Palazzo Pubblico. That
Bonfigli was well known and very highly appreciated in his native city
before that date is evident. Mariotti tells us that he was called in by
the citizens as one of the judges to pronounce judgment on Agostino
Duccio's façade at S. Bernardino. It is probable that he even had a
school of painting--that school to which Vasari somewhat slightingly
alludes in his life of Perugino.
SALA II.
_Cappella di Bonfigli_
(_formerly the chapel of the Magistrates' Guild_).
Mariotti gives a long and humorous account of the contract between
Bonfigli and the magistrates about the painting of their chapel.
Undertaken in 1454 the work was still unfinished at the time of the
painter's death in 1496, and Mariotti is unable to discover any
sufficient reason for such undignified delay. "I do not easily think
ill of anyone," he writes, "and least of all of painters, but certainly
in those years we have no record even of any influenza raging in the
city of Perugia." When the chapel was half painted, Fra Filippo Lippi
was called in to judge about its excellence. He found the pictures good,
and voted a sum of four hundred florins in payment to Bonfigli, who once
more, and with infinite slowness, went to work upon them. Only the
skeleton of this work remains. At the end of the last century, Mariotti
thus bewails it: "But the pictures of Bonfigli--oh, my God--how have
they been ravaged by the little care bestowed upon them, how devastated
by the course of time." Half ruined by a form of restoration which
perhaps is worse than none, ill-lighted, and without their former
colour, the frescoes yet remain a delightful and engaging study. They
represent the lives of the two bishops, St Louis of Toulouse, and S.
Ercolano, patron saints of Perugia. To the right as you enter, and in a
dark corner by the window is the Consecration of S. Louis; next to it
the miracle of the fish performed by that Saint. This picture is
admirably preserved. The landscape is one of those half real and half
fantastic follies of a wise man which always charm one. Bonfigli knew
that he must paint a town by the seashore; he painted the sea, but he
put his own fair Umbrian city straight down upon its shores. There
stands the church of S. Domenico with its celebrated windows, and up
behind it, tier on tier, there rise the towers and the brown roofs of
the city that we read about, the Perugia of the middle ages, against a
dark blue sky. The miracle is a naïve one. A merchant lost his bag of
gold during a storm at sea. He prayed to S. Louis to reveal to him what
had become of it. S. Louis appeared in heaven and showed that a certain
large fish had swallowed the purse. The fish was caught, cut open, and
inside it was the merchant's bag of gold. We see the fisherman toiling
up from his boat with the heavy fish upon his shoulders, and then we see
the monks cutting open the fish, and the merchant and his wife receiving
their money. So realistically is the scene presented, that we even see
the blood of the fish upon the bag.
The next picture has been terribly damaged, and it is difficult to
understand the subject; but a learned gentleman of Perugia, to whom we
are indebted for various most ingenious suggestions, fancies that it is
simply the representation of some miracle of healing performed by the
Saint in Rome; certainly Bonfigli has striven to combine in his
background a marvellous mixture of Roman and Etruscan architecture, the
arch of Constantine mingling with Porta Susanna and the Colosseum!
The following fresco is perhaps the most delightful of the series. It
represents the burial of the Bishop of Toulouse. Now S. Louis is known
to have died in his father's castle of Brignolles in Provence at the
early age of twenty-four, but all this was of very secondary importance
to the ingenuous Bonfigli. It was sufficient for him to know that a dead
Bishop had to be painted. He selected the architecture that he loved
best--his own Perugian church of S. Pietro--he sliced it in half so that
all might look inside it, and on a bier in the centre of the aisle he
laid the corpse of a quite middle-aged Bishop. With infinite care and
faithful precision he copied the lines of his church. The true basilica
is here, not touched at all by decoration. There was no choir in those
days; a dark blue sky looks in at the windows, the roof is bare with all
its rafters showing. But the central figure is out of all proportion.
The feet and the head of S. Louis of Toulouse almost touch the columns
in the aisle. His robe, with the golden fleur de lis, is neatly folded
round him, his mitre glistens in the light; his face is grey and calm,
and full of dignity and of repose. Bonfigli had a sense of humour and
could not refrain from a touch of caricature. It is impossible to look
at the group of monks and prelates round S. Louis, and not to feel at
once convinced of this. A fat and pompous Bishop, in golden cope and
mitre, is saying the mass for the dead. His large red book is supported
by the head of a kneeling friar, and the very thumbs of this friar
express his disgust and discomfort. To the left of the Bishop a group of
roaring monks take up his words and repeat them in dolorous voices. Only
to look at their faces one knows that their litany is absolutely out of
tune. At the head of the Saint another priest is reading in a book, his
acolytes swing incense, one holds the Bishop's staff. The rest of the
church is filled with quiet groups of men and women; and the most
charming figure of the whole is that of a young man in a red gown with a
shock of yellow curls, who kneels, lost in prayer, at the knees of the
dead Saint, his back turned to us.
The next picture represents the siege of Perugia by Totila. No doubt
this siege--that most memorable event in the annals of Perugia--was
rather a chaos to the mind of Bonfigli as it is to many people nowadays;
but the following history, taken from old chronicles, will explain the
whole fantastic pageant. It will be remembered that Totila besieged
Perugia in 549, and that the little town held out valiantly, but finally
fell into the power of the Goths. During a terrible siege the Bishop of
Perugia, S. Ercolano, attempted certain childlike and vain subterfuges
of war, which unhappily ended in failure and in his own martyrdom.
Ciatti, in his somewhat weariful and dreamy style, records the events of
the siege as follows:--
[Illustration: FIRST TRANSLATION OF THE BODY OF S. ERCOLANO
(FRESCO IN THE PINACOTECA OF PERUGIA)]
"It is said that the saintly Bishop S. Ercolano, receiving much
heavenly aid and holy counsels, and perhaps led by God, turned his
soul to an act of human prudence. It happened that the city was
reduced to extreme misery by reason of the scarcity of victuals, so
that the citizens decided to surrender or to die fighting. S.
Ercolano counselled them to bring him any grain which should still
be found in the granaries, and they, knowing his great sanctity,
obeyed and brought to him, after most diligent search, one small
measure of corn. Then the Saint took the sole surviving lamb"
(Bonfigli in his frescoes has painted an ox) "and, to the wonder
and silent indignation of the people, he gave it to eat of the
grain; it ate abundantly and the Bishop then threw the lamb with
great force down from the ramparts, when, by reason of its great
fulness and the height of its fall, the innocent beast was at once
killed. When the captains of the enemy beheld this thing they were
angry, saying: 'These Perugians have so much grain that they can
give it to their beasts to eat, and so much meat that they cast it
carelessly away, how can we, therefore, hope to subdue them by
famine?' But it chanced that a young acolyte spoke from off the
ramparts to some Goths and unwittingly revealed to them the
distress and the mortality reigning in the city by reason of the
want of food; and the stratagem of S. Ercolano becoming known in
the camp, the infuriated Goths, hot with anger, returned to the
attack and with impetuous fury assailed the deserted walls. Greeks
and Perugians rushed to arms, but what could they, poor
starvelings, do against the Gothic host?"
Thus fell Perugia. Our learned author goes on to describe how S.
Ercolano was conducted to the ramparts and after his skin had been torn
off in strips from the neck downwards, he was beheaded and his body
thrown into the ditch. Some faithful adherents gave it secret burial,
and finding the body of the foolish young acolyte near by, laid it in
the same grave. Later, Uliphus, governor of the city, allowed the
Perugians to give their beloved pastor proper burial. To the
astonishment of all beholders the Saint's head was found joined to his
body, which seemed like that of a man asleep. This miracle converted
many of the Arian Goths to the Roman faith, and "with rejoicings and
hymns of praise the body of S. Ercolano was borne through the streets to
the church of S. Lorenzo."
The next picture gives the burial of S. Ercolano. It is only a fragment,
and we can hardly piece the scattered groups together. There is a lovely
little group of ladies to the left--a set of typical Bonfigli women with
exquisite white headgear. The curving front of the Palazzo Pubblico upon
the Corso is painted with accurate care, the loggia of Fortebraccio too,
is clearly seen and understood. But the picture is only a shadow; the
part we most wish to see, namely, the north front of the Palazzo, is
wholly obliterated, and the restoration spoils it terribly.
In the next fresco the body of S. Ercolano is being carried from S.
Pietro to S. Lorenzo, and Bonfigli has seized this excellent opportunity
to paint a fresh portrait of his native city. In the foreground the
basilica of S. Pietro with a colonnaded front and unfinished campanile
is faithfully depicted, and behind the funeral procession (which by the
way is moving in quite the wrong direction) the town towers up into the
sky like a pack of yellow cards, broken only by its towers and
campaniles.[97]
ROOMS VI. AND VII.
_Sala di Bonfigli and Sala di Bernardino di Mariotto._
Before leaving the subject of Bonfigli it will be well to look at some
other pieces of his work which are painted in quite a different manner.
Amongst these is a Madonna and Child (No. 13). It is a beautiful
specimen of the master's purely pietistic painting.[98] Tradition says
that Fra Filippo Lippi ordered this picture. It has suffered terribly,
for in old days it was hung in the lavatory of S. Domenico, and as the
friars washed their hands they must have splashed the water up against
the panels. No. 10, the Adoration of the Magi, is also by Bonfigli. The
picture as a whole is perhaps more interesting than beautiful, inasmuch
as it is one of the very few religious pictures of the Umbrian School
where the portraits of living people have been introduced. Orsini tells
us that the Madonna is a portrait of Bonfigli's sister, the Child a
picture of his nephew, and the youngest of the three kings that of his
brother. The loveliest point in the picture is the group of angels up in
the roof. Bonfigli must, we think, have seen the swallows flitting at
springtime in and out of some low breezy barn, and put their movements
into angels' forms. The predella, too, is a perfect gem in itself,
notably the panel of the Baptism where the wilderness is painted dark
and brown, but the sunrise is full upon the figures of three angels who
stand with crowns of roses on their heads and watch the scene among the
rocks. There is an Annunciation in the same room by Bonfigli; and it
again is chiefly charming because of the treatment of the angels. They
come fluttering up behind a group of cypress trees, all in the flush of
dawn. But the foreground figure is strange indeed. What did Bonfigli
mean when he painted S. Luke and his ox, and planted them there in the
midst of the picture so as quite to distract one's attention from the
principal figures of the piece? In the next room (Sala VII.) Bonfigli's
angels can be studied with ease. There are in all eight panels of them,
and it is interesting to see how the early painter strove between
realism and idealism in the faces. He loved his smiling angels best;
what care he took to crown them with pink roses; what baskets too of
roses he gave to them to carry! yet to his angels of the Passion he gave
no roses, only the symbols of the Crucifixion, its anguish and its
thorns.
We have lingered long over the work of a man whose figure is such an
attractive one in the Umbrian school. Before passing on to the work of
his contemporaries we must mention the name of another artist four of
whose pictures are hung in the room of the Bonfigli angels: namely,
Bernardino di Mariotto. Bernardino is an interesting figure in the
gallery, and one is struck at first sight by the quality of his work,
which differs from everything round it. He seems like some strange
missing link in the history of the Umbrian and the Roman school; and so
little is known about him that up to a quite recent date his work was
confused with that, first of much earlier painters, and then of
Pinturicchio. His treatment of detail: the Virgin's gown, the garlands
of fruit and flowers, the angels' wings and the saints' dresses, is
beautiful though his colour is cold and hard. His peculiar use of a very
stiff baldachin made people say that he was a master of Raphael. As a
matter of fact he lived at S. Severino in the Marches and worked about
the years 1502 to 1521.
* * * * *
In the same room there are two big pictures by Bartolomeo Caporali, who
was a pupil of Perugino. His great flying angels in No. 12 are like the
angels of Bonfigli gone mad, there is something grand in the rush of
their wings, and whatever the faults of the somewhat exaggerated
composition, it forces one's immediate attention.
[Illustration: GONFALONE OF THE ANNUNCIATION BY NICCOLÒ ALUNNO]
To return to the order of the earlier painters, we come to one or two
names which are probably more familiar to most people than that of
Bonfigli: these are Fiorenzo di Lorenzo, Boccati da Camerino and Niccolò
Alunno. There is a fine bit of Alunno's work in Sala VII. (No 14). It is
about the only thing of his which is now attributed to him in Perugia.
Such a host of angels singing and playing to God in the heavens, and a
charming garden scene round the young Virgin! She kneels very quietly at
her desk. Neat pots of flowers stand on the marble wall behind her and
three stiff cypress trees against the sky; round a corner of the garden
wall two very engaging angels stand gossiping together, their heads
thrown back, their mouths a little pouting. In the immediate foreground
two patron saints are kneeling to introduce a group of lawyers who
commissioned the painting of the banner.
* * * * *
Boccati da Camerino's work is rare. There is a charming thing of his in
Sala VI. (No. 13): a Madonna and a fascinating choir of angels. His
largest picture (No. 16) is in the same room and represents the same
subject. The Madonna sits enthroned under a heavy pergola of roses, and
all around her is a stiff little choir of angels: a most delightful and
original conception. The picture was painted for the monks of S.
Domenico, and so the emblem of the saint, his dog, had to figure in it.
What Boccati was about we cannot judge, but he certainly painted an
ermine instead of a dog, and the little Christ receives the strange
beast with delight. The predella of the picture is full of stories
almost in the style of Carpaccio. Boccati had a rare and charming fancy.
In his scene of the procession to Calvary, he shows how a rude soldier
attempts to strike the fainting figure of Christ; and one of the horses
of the guard, with ears bent back, stoops forward to bite the hand of
him who would distress the Saviour.
ROOMS VIII. AND IX.
_Sala di Fiorenzo di Lorenzo, Gabinetto di Fiorenzo di Lorenzo._
We now come to Fiorenzo di Lorenzo, to whose name two rooms in the
Pinacoteca have been dedicated. Very little is known about his life. We
can only gather that he studied in the school of Bonfigli, and that he
competed with Bonfigli in the painting of banners. He may have been a
rather younger man, but he was earlier than Perugino and his scholars,
and so he forms a sort of link between the masters and the pupils of a
great school.
Fiorenzo may be said to have begun the school which now is called the
school of Perugino. It was he who distinctly and for ever broke away
from that Greek or Byzantine influence which we feel in much of
Bonfigli's work. In his own day he was eclipsed by the greater lights
which rose up round him, and it is only to us, who try to trace the
school, that he is such a really important and delightful figure.
Throughout his work one feels a great effort towards light--towards
fresh issues. His drawing and his colour are often very beautiful, but
there is a great difference in the style of the various works ascribed
to him. Compare No. 53 (Sala VIII.) and its surrounding panels, with
Nos. 30, 6, and 5. (The three latter probably all formed part of one
large altar-piece.)
The Adoration, attributed to Fiorenzo, is a crowded but a beautiful
composition. The Virgin, S. Joseph, and a group of shepherds kneel in
the foreground, and exquisite flowers, grape-hyacinths,
[Illustration: ADORATION OF THE SHEPHERDS BY FIORENZO DI LORENZO]
even some fluffy heads of dandelion seed grow at their feet. Behind them
is the stable--an Umbrian stable in an Umbrian landscape--filled with a
host of angels. In the dim distance the shepherds feed their flocks upon
the hills. The figures are mere sketches of some Umbrian goat-herds whom
Fiorenzo must have met outside the Umbrian farms at dawn. Nos. 10 and 16
(in Sala IX.) are beautiful specimens of the master's later work. Note
the hand and the crimson sleeves of the Virgin.
But if Fiorenzo could apply himself with the religious ardour of his
school to sacred subjects, to the Bible of his art, he could also
sometimes take a holiday and write a fantastic and entrancing _scherzo_
on his own account. It is his series of pictures on the life of San
Bernardino of Siena which at once attracts us in the gallery. Here we
find one of those wonderful visions of the past--a record of men's
manners, of their costumes and architecture, as seen through the eyes of
some intelligent yet child-like artist.[99] To describe the miracles is
not an easy matter. In seeking the subject one is carried away by the
charm of the models, just as the painter was who painted them. A company
of entrancing youths with long thin legs, their marvellous crimson
tunics trimmed with fur, their small caps barely clinging to their
shocks of golden curls, strut up and down the panels, but barely
conscious of the Saint and all his patient care of them. No 3,
represents the miracle of a girl who has fallen into a well, and whom
the Saint has saved from drowning; we see a lovely and impassive
creature sitting upon the marble floor, her yellow hair has not been
wetted, the small red fillet binds it gracefully; her relations and her
lovers pray and pose all round her, but little ruffled by the memory of
the late catastrophe. Just the same is the accident of the mason,
treated in No. 7. His comrades stand about the wounded man, exquisite
and undisturbed. "Ah," they seem to say, "thus and thus it happened,
thus, maybe, he fell"; but all the time they are thinking of their
well-set tunics and of their long and lovely legs; and who can be
surprised at this, seeing that their _toilette_ is carried to
perfection? No. 5 shows the capture and escape of a prisoner. It has a
pleasant landscape in the background, a sort of park, with a lake and
trees about it. In No. 6 the Saint appears in a cloud under a beautiful
marble palace and heals the blindness of a fellow friar. The doctors do
seem somewhat interested, but everything is too beautiful and finished
for much pity or, anyhow, for pain; and as for the hair of the young men
in this panel, it is more excellently curled than in any of the series.
The remaining miracles are by another hand. Some pupil or imitator of
Fiorenzo tried to finish them, but the treatment is coarser, the charm
of the first is gone.
ROOM V.
_Sala dell' Angelico._
Before passing on to the work of Perugino and his school, which one must
confess, with the exception of Sala XI., is but a disappointing show of
canvasses and panels, one passes through the little room of Fra
Angelico.
In Taine's slight but exquisite sketch of Perugia and its pictures we
read the following words about the work of Fra Angelico at Perugia: "He
was happier here than in his pagan Florence, and it is he who first
attracts us (in the gallery). Looking at his work there, one seems to be
reading in the 'Imitatio Christi,' for on the golden background the pure
sweet faces breathe a quiet stillness, like the immaculate roses in the
gardens of Paradise." Taine is right; everyone is at once attracted to
the work of the Florentine monk when they come to the gallery of
Perugia. We have searched for some record of the friar's visit to
Perugia, but have not been successful. It is certain that the Florentine
painter came to stay in Umbria, leaving behind him as a legacy to later
painters the influence of his pious gentle art. He became a monk in 1408
at Fiesole, but his convent got mixed up in painful religious disputes,
and the monks had to fly and wander into other lands, hoping to return
when times should be more peaceful. Fra Angelico came to Cortona, and
there did some of his very earliest work. Thence, very probably, he
travelled to Foligno, staying on his way to rest at Perugia, and leaving
there, in the church of S. Domenico, that wonderful picture, all the
parts of which now hang together in the Pinacoteca. They are jewels,
these small panels--jewels fresh as dewdrops on the first May wreaths of
girls. Angelico never lost this bloom of utter purity, and here we find
it at its very dawn. The Madonna and Child are in the centre; round them
stand four angels, their baskets full of roses. "Two angels in long
dresses," says Taine, "bring their roses to the feet of the small Christ
with the dreaming eyes. They are so young, and yet so earnest." Again,
of the Annunciation, he says: "The Virgin is candour and sweetness
itself; her character is almost German, and her two hands are clasped
with deep religious fervour. The angel with the curly hair who kneels
before her seems almost like some young and happy girl--a little raw
perhaps--and coming straight from the house of her mother.... These
indeed, are the delicate touches that painters of a later date will
never find again. A sentiment is an infinite and incommunicable thing;
no learning and no effort will ever reproduce it absolutely. In real
piety there is a certain reserve; a certain modesty is shown in the
arrangement of the draperies and in the choice of little details, such
as even the best masters, only a century later, will not understand at
all." It is difficult to choose any particular point for description in
the twelve narrow panels of saints. Angelico carefully studied to show
the individual character of each. He gave to his Magdalen a new and
lovely attitude--a sort of ascetic repose. Of her physical beauty he
only left the yellow hair; it falls to her ankles gold as the maize in
autumn, but her body is wasted beneath it. St Catherine of Siena is said
to be a really authentic portrait of the Saint. The Bishop of Toulouse
is unlike that of Bonfigli, younger and gentler in expression. The whole
set make an ineffably sweet impression on our mind, and it is difficult
to turn to the other pictures in the room. Of these the best and the
most interesting is by Piero della Francesca.
Piero was one of Perugino's first masters. He was born early in the
fifteenth century at Borgo San Sepolcro. He had a passion for
perspective, and was one of the first men who made a real study of this
branch of art. We hear that he wrote books on geometry, and grappled
with Euclid and the laws of measurement. He also studied the proportion
of light and shade, and all these points are admirably proved by his
picture at Perugia (No. 21). Vasari gives a full account of it in his
life of Piero. He describes the lower part, then adds: "Above them is a
most beautiful Annunciation with an angel, which seems, in truth, to
have descended from heaven; and what is more, a range of columns in
perspective, which is indeed most beautiful." St Elizabeth of Hungary is
a fine point in the lower composition. She wears a green gown, and in
its skirt she carries the loaves which, by grace of heaven, and to
defend her from the anger of her husband, were turned, as we know, to
roses.
ROOM X.
_Sala del Perugino._
An irresistible sense of sadness creeps over us as we pass through the
room which bears the name of Pietro Perugino. Looking at the collection
one feels much in the same frame of mind as one does in searching the
wearisome domestic letters of a genius. Only one or two of the pictures
attributed to Vannucci in the Pinacoteca of Perugia have the touch of
the spirit in them. No. 25, which is double-sided like most of the
altar-pieces of convents, where the one side faced the congregation and
the other the monks or nuns, is a beautiful bit of Perugino's work, fine
both in colour and in sentiment. No. 10, too, is a small gem from one of
Pietro's really beautiful altar-pieces.[100] Nos. 20 and 4 are fragments
of one enormous altar-piece (see p. 190), which used to hang in the
church of S. Agostino and which like many others of Pietro's finest
works was torn to pieces, and carried across the Alps to swell the
galleries of Napoleon. One hurries shuddering past pictures like Nos.
1, 5, and 26. It seems so impossible that what the Germans call a
"Schöne Seele" should have allowed such things to be.
ROOM XI.
_Sala di Bernardino di Betto detto il Pinturicchio._
In the little room which leads out of Room X. we make an interesting
study of Perugino's pictures, for it contains some of his earliest and
also some of his most decadent work. Had the municipality of Perugia
just a touch of humour or malice when they hung No. 25 side by side with
No. 16? Whatever they had in their heads they have given to us a curious
study. Here are two works by the same man, the latter probably a
pot-boiler of his school but still burdened with his name. Both
represent precisely the same subject, the same set of saints is in each
of them; but the early work is full of thought, of reverence and
feeling; the early Sebastian, calm and grave, has the arrow in his very
flesh, and the later Sebastian, simpering and affected, toys with his
arrow and turns with painful affectation to the Saviour. There is a
lovely little set of sketches on the predella under No. 6; the Nativity,
a mere hurried impression, seems full of the breeze of early spring in
Umbria.
* * * * *
We have a splendid bit of Pinturicchio's work in this room which bears
his name, and also one of the rare paintings of Lo Spagna; one or two
pictures which bear at least the name of Raphael, and the much disputed
"Adoration" which has been ascribed to more than one distinguished
person.
* * * * *
Bernardino di Betto, usually known as Pinturicchio and sometimes as il
Sordicchio because he was deaf, and small and of a mean appearance,
studied in the school of Perugia, and indeed was one of its most
distinguished painters; but having left that earliest studio he carried
his talents to other parts, and painted as we know for popes and
princes, painted above all things those two wonderful series of frescoes
in the Duomo at Siena and in the Borgia rooms at the Vatican. He has
been called sometimes the Umbrian Gozzoli; certainly he was the
historical painter of the great school which grew in the times of
Perugino. Vasari with a certain prejudice and ill nature insists that
Pinturicchio's success was one rather of opportunity than of talent; but
it is much more probable that the painter was beloved because he was
faithful to his promises and carried out his orders with care and with
precision. We know, too, that after all the sums he got, and all his
heavy labours, he died of hunger and neglect on a winter's night at
Siena, his wife having deserted him and eloped with a new lover.
Pinturicchio had a grant of land given to him in the neighbourhood of
Perugia in 1495, by Alexander VI., and he determined to return to his
native city and live there; but some years later, when in money
difficulties, he was forced to sell it to a gentleman of Perugia.
The splendid altar-piece (No. 10), which alone remains to Perugia of
this distinguished pupil of Perugino, is ill lighted and rather
difficult to judge from top to bottom, but is interesting as well as
beautiful; for the picture remains just as the painter painted it with
all its panels in their proper order, unlike the panels of so many of
Perugino's finest altar-pieces. The Pietà, the angel of the
Annunciation, both the figures of the Virgin and the detail of their
dresses, fruit and books, are exquisitely finished.
* * * * *
There is in the same room an excellent specimen of the work of another
of Perugino's scholars--Lo Spagna (No. 7). Giovanni di Pietro was one of
the most distinguished of Vannucci's school, and Kugler indeed
pronounces him to be _the_ most distinguished after Raphael. It is
probable that he studied with Fiorenzo di Lorenzo before going to
Vannucci's studio, but it is difficult to discover any details about his
private life. His whole career is shrouded in some mystery. His name
would make one think he was Spanish by birth. We know that he left
Perugia and went to live at Spoleto. Vasari declares that this was
because the painters of Perugia were jealous of him and made life in
their midst impossible; this fact is however severely denied by our
gossip Mariotti, who declares that Lo Spagna was excessively well off in
Spoleto, where he not only received the rights of citizenship but also
secured a charming wife. Be all this as it may, of this really good
artist, who combined in his work the influence of Raphael and of
Perugino, only one piece is left in the place where he learned his art.
The Madonna and Saints (No. 7) is a fine specimen of his work. The
mother and the child are fresh and beautiful in colour and expression,
and all the details of the dresses and the landscape infinitely careful.
Note St Jerome, his gloves, his book, his hat and splendid gown. One
other picture is ascribed to Giovanni in the same room, but it is
greatly inferior in treatment.
* * * * *
We now come to the Adoration of the Magi, which after much dispute was
some time ago ascribed to Perugino's scholar Eusebio di San Giorgio, but
which is still the subject of endless local discussions, as, owing to
further and more minute investigations it is at length declared by
excellent judges to be the work of Raphael. One reason given for this is
that the young man to the right of the Virgin has on his trousers a
strange design, the arms of Raphael. Poor Eusebio must turn in his
grave. His former biographers, anxious to seize on any gem of painting
which should save the artist from a rather mediocre position in the
history of art, always stayed to shout exultant praises when they came
to this picture, and now the critic would tear even this glory from his
brows and crown another man whose head is already heavy with their
laurels.[101]
No. 20--a Madonna and Child--is ascribed to Raphael. The picture
certainly has something of the master in it and it may be the work of
the mere boy, when first he came from Urbino to paint with Perugino, and
in the Umbrian city dreamed his great Madonna of the future. Raphael
Sanzio passes like a dream through Perugia, leaving no certain relic of
his mighty fame save one faint faded fresco on the church wall of S.
Severo, and these poor relics in the gallery.[102]
ROOM XII.
_Sala di Giannicola e di Berto di Giovanni._
From this point forwards the interest of the gallery begins to wane. We
have tracked the dawn and seen the sunrise; now we feel the dull warmth
of midday, and passing through the weary hours of the afternoon, most
fully and amply represented in the work of the two Alfanis, we pass to
night through the fevered rooms of the Decadence. Sala XII. is devoted
to the work of Perugino's scholars, but most of it is weak. Still there
is a touch of the old sweetness here and there among the figures. Note
No. 15 by Giannicola Manni. It has a charm though it is very imitative.
The rest of Giannicola's work in this room is rather dreary. But there
is charm, too, in the purely imitative, nay copied work of Berto di
Giovanni. Berto was another of Perugino's scholars. He lived probably
towards the end of the fifteenth century and it is evident that he felt
a passionate admiration for his fellow student, Raphael. All we can
gather of facts about Berto comes to us through his connection with
Raphael. In 1516 he contracted to paint, in combination with his hero, a
picture for the nuns of Monteluce. Bits of the predella are now in the
Pinacoteca. In the flat and almost womanish sketches of Berto one traces
his persistent admiration for the greater artist. It is as though an
intelligent child had torn the leaves from its mother's sketch-book and
filled in the lines with faithful and laborious colouring. (See Nos. 19
to 26.) But Berto's charm, such as it is, went all wrong when he tried
to paint big subjects. Nos. 16 and 14 are little more than failures.
* * * * *
To anyone who admires the work of the two Alfani, Domenico and Orazio, a
happy hunting-ground exists in the last big rooms of the Pinacoteca. How
it came about that one of Perugino's really lovely frescoes got hung in
this part, we cannot tell, but it is certain that the Nativity (No. 31,
Room XIII.) is one of the loveliest things that remain of Pietro in the
town of Perugia. It is very like our own Nativity in the National
Gallery, faint and fair in colour, calm and true in composition, with a
peculiar lilac colour of crushed grapes throughout the dresses and the
landscape.
It would be impossible to close any account of the school of Perugino
without a slight sketch of the two Alfanis whose intense admiration for
the genius of painting became a fault, and who, through their very
earnestness preserved the corpse from which the life long since had
fled. The Alfanis, Domenico the father, and Orazio the son, had money
and long life. These two happy gifts they employed in the paths of art;
with these two gifts they at length degraded what they really attempted
to exalt. Domenico was such a passionate admirer of Raphael that one of
his historians declared him to have died in the same year as Sanzio.
Mariotti denies this. "However passionate a friend and inseparable a
companion," he urges, "Domenico had not for certain such a crazy folly
as to accompany him to the other world." Domenico far outlived Raphael.
In his long life he absorbed the teaching of many schools, and utterly
obliterated his own personality in the work of other people. His son
Orazio did the same. They went into partnership, started a large school
or studio, and there created the innumerable, rather middle-class
pictures, which cover the walls of the Pinacoteca. Grazio survived his
father about thirty years, and was the first president of the Academy of
Perugia founded in 1573.
* * * * *
One word to close these notes about the painters of the Umbrian school.
Seek out the painters in the places where they painted. Go to Spoleto
for the works of Lo Spagna, to Gubbio for the masterpiece of Nelli, to
Spello for Pinturicchio, to Foligno for the early men who have not even
names. Go in May to Montefalco, when all the green of Umbrian angels'
wings is in the lanes which lead to these. Learn by heart the Umbrian
landscape if you wish to really love and understand the spirit of
Umbrian art. The Pinacoteca of Perugia serves only as a backbone for the
genuine study.[103]
CHAPTER XI
_The Museum,[104] and Tomb of the Volumnii_
Having traced the first Etruscan walls and seen the tomb of the
Volumnii, a note of sombre and half melancholy interest will inevitably
have been struck upon our mind whilst trying to realise the lives of
those mysterious people who created these things and left these dumb
indications--dumb, because the language is so dead--upon the country
where they lived and died. This note is of course by no means confined
to the mind of the passing traveller. It is the people of the place
itself who feel it most, and in Perugia, thanks to their efforts, we
have, in the museum at the University, a very complete, if only a small
collection of the relics of Etruscan civilization as found in the
immediate neighbourhood. In a small book written by Signor Lupatelli
upon the growth of the museum, we read that the noble families of the
place have always loved to trace their earliest ancestors by carefully
collecting any sarcophagi or other relics which they found upon their
lands. In this way the Museum has been formed, and a crowd of tombs,
laid open by the plough or winter rains, have been preserved with all
their treasures in them.[105]
The study of the Etruscans is, after all, the study of the dead, and an
Etruscan Museum has about it all the mysterious atmosphere of the tomb.
What barrier greater, what ocean more profound, than that between
ourselves and this dead people! Their tombs, their busts, their
playthings and inscriptions seem to chill the very air around them.
Ordinary people, not students of archæology, must face this fact quite
boldly and come prepared to plunge head foremost into a very chilly
atmosphere if they wish to learn about the ancient Etruscans. The
present writers are bound to confess, that, on glad spring mornings,
they have turned from the sarcophagi and the bronzes and terra-cotta
vases in the cases to look with undisguised delight through the windows
of the museum and up beyond to the brown roofs of the wicked old
mediæval city opposite. The Duomo with all the blood upon its steps, the
Piazza with all its passionate and burning history, seemed to them more
real, more sympathetic, than the uneventful countenances, the harmless
funereal urns, of this quiet race of men, who lived and died over one
thousand years before our era.
"Les Tyrènes," says M. André Lefèvre, "durant leur longue
domination _sont restés des étrangers, c'est ce qui explique
pourquoi leur langue et leurs dieux ont disparu avec leur
puissance_, et pourquoi nous sommes réduits à fouiller leurs
tombeaux pour connaître leur vie. C'est de leurs demeures
funéraires que nous exhumons aujourd'hui leurs industries, leurs
arts, leurs festins, leurs danses, leurs jeux, leurs pompeuses
cérémonies triomphales, et leurs nuptiales, et aussi leur courte
philosophie faite de fatalisme et d'insouciance."
[Illustration: VIA DELLA PERA UNDER THE AQUEDUCT ON THE WAY TO THE
UNIVERSITY]
It is probable that when the Rasenae first arrived in central Italy,
they were still an almost barbarous nation, and that their arts and
civilization were developed later in their northern settlements, in
Tuscany and Umbria. They seem to have adopted little from the races who
preceded them in Italy, though some say that they learned the art of
statuary from these still more mysterious people; but, being, as we
know, themselves a sea-faring nation they may have taken their first
conceptions of art from the Carthaginians and Phoenicians, and in this
way they might easily have come in contact with the art of Egypt and of
Carthage. But by far the strongest influence was that of Greece. This
they perhaps felt first in Greece itself, and later through their
contact with Greek settlers in Italy.
* * * * *
The Etruscans were a receptive people; they easily grasped a new idea,
and carried it out with careful precision, though with rounded edges, so
to speak. The spirit of the inspiration of pure art is lacking in their
work. They were excellent craftsmen, and Rome is said to have learned
certain points in the uses of casting metal and in masonry from Etruscan
artisans. They were also an agricultural people, who did much towards
improving the soil wherever they settled. The Etruscans were a very
religious, or at least a superstitious race, full of faith in augury,
constantly consulting natural oracles, such as the flight of birds and
variations of the atmosphere, and, like the Greeks, they had their
household gods or _lares_. The Medusa's head is for ever recurring in
their monuments and on their house-doors. Having some strong belief in
the immortality of the human soul, they crowded their dead with gifts,
putting their most elaborate work upon the tombs, and giving to the
corpse all the necessaries for a long journey to a distant land, or for
a possible reawakening. They had different modes of burial. Usually the
body was burned, but sometimes--and we have admirable instances of this
in the Perugian Museum--it was simply buried in a stone sarcophagus.
Women were respected and held a high position in society. This fact is
clearly shown by their prominence upon the tombs, where they sit side by
side with their husbands, as they were probably in the habit of doing at
their feasts. The toilet was also respected, and the dead took as many
pots of balsam to the grave as they took tear-bottles. The richer bodies
have a wonderful array of dressing-table nicknacks at their head and
feet, and the loveliest and most careful work in the whole museum is
that upon the hand-mirrors (see Case 12, Room vi.), which were also
probably laid in the tomb of the beloved dead.
* * * * *
The chief interest in this museum of Perugia is the wealth of its
inscriptions. The passages are lined with them, and a catalogue or
dictionary has been made of them. The Etruscans lived side by side with
the Romans and the Greeks, and often we find inscriptions written in
both languages upon one tomb; yet, though the two latter peoples were
the greatest scholars of the world, the Etruscan language is dead to us
for all practical purposes; and the longest Etruscan inscription which
is known--the pride of the Perugian Museum--is little better than a
blank wall to all who look to it for purposes of study.[106]
The Etruscans lived luxurious lives, but their race ran long upon the
soil of Italy. As far as it can be traced, their rule, or at least their
occupation, lasted for about twelve centuries. By the beginning of the
Christian era they were already dying out.
M. André Lefèvre gives the following final summing up of the influence
of the Etruscans upon the greater nation which gradually took their
place:--
"Bien que, même aux temps de leur plus grande puissance ils n'aient
pu imposer ni leur langue ni leurs dieux à des peuples établis
depuis mille ans sur le sol Italien, leur part n'en a pas moins été
considérable dans la civilisation Latine. Leur influence a été
moindre sur les hommes que sur les choses, sur l'esprit que sur les
formes extérieures, cérémonielles et rituelles,--qui, à leur tour,
affectent les institutions et les moeurs. Ils ont appris aux
Romains à bâtir des maisons et des temples, à ordonner les festins,
les processions, les pompes triomphales et les jeux sanglants du
cirque. Les meubles, les sièges, les statues, les licteurs, le
costume, la bulle d'or des enfants patriciens, sont aussi d'origine
Étrusque. Enfin, ils ont ajouté aux superstitions déja si
nombreuses des Latins et des Sabins la science, si ce n'est pas
profaner un tel mot, la science augurale, élevée au rang
d'institution politique, perpétuant ainsi, au sein d'une
civilisation avancée, les plus niaises pratiques de la sauvagerie
la plus infinie."
As it would have been impossible in the slight scope of this small book
to give any detailed account of the different objects in the Perugian
museum, we have thought it wiser to offer the above sketch of the
Etruscans themselves, adding only some promiscuous notes about the
collections for those who care to read them as they pass through the
different rooms. The new Catalogue by Signor Donati, the profound works
of Count Conestabile and Signor Vermiglioli, and the delightful chapter
in Dennis' _Etruria_ contain all the information that a genuine student
will desire.
ROOM II.
CASE A.
No. 5. A Medusa's head in terra-cotta; exquisite and of unusually
careful workmanship. This head was probably one of those plaques or
tablets which were put up by the Etruscans over the lintel of their
house-doors to keep away the evil spirits. The Medusa is commonly
used in this way, and we find her constantly in tombs and other
places. Her face is usually calm, and often lovely, though in this
instance it is calculated to strike terror, as well as admiration,
into the mind of any witch or evil spirit. Beside it are two
tablets of the same sort, but much coarser in treatment and design,
and apparently worked under Egyptian influences.
* * * * *
No. 12. Some charming pieces of Etruscan glass; small tear and
balsam bottles; also some larger bottles, square in form. These
latter were probably used for medicines. Their chief interest lies
in the fact that they bear the stamp of their Etruscan makers.
* * * * *
No. 6. A row of terra-cotta _pateræ_, such as the dead hold in
their hands on tombs.
* * * * *
No. 9. A plateful of little glass balls, which shine like handfuls
of the most lustrous emeralds and opals in the dim light of the
Museum. These were used as counters by the Etruscans in their games
of dice, and it is thought that they were put into the graves of
habitual gamblers, so that the soul of the dead man, during its
passage to eternity, should not be denied the consolation of its
favourite diversion.
* * * * *
No. 27. Some beautiful fragments of feet, heads, and arms. It has
been supposed that the Etruscans often made whole statues of wood
or of some such cheap material, only giving to the extremities the
careful work required by terra-cotta. Hence these apparently
disconnected relics.
CASES B. AND C.
Most of the objects in this case came from Chiusi and are made of
the black ware called _bucchero_. Some are Etruscan, some of an
even earlier origin. All along the top of the case are some quite
simple cinerary urns of a different form to the vases inside the
cases, which latter were designed more for decoration in rich men's
houses.
* * * * *
No. 5. Two beautiful trays or toilet tables belonging to the
Etruscan ladies. Looking at these one seems to understand the
elaborate wigs on the heads of those ladies who smile upon the tops
of their sarcophagi. Several objects in Case D. explain them
further.
No. 4. A lovely line of graceful vases, good illustrations of the
imitative power of the Etruscans. Not only the forms, but even the
shining texture of the Grecian bronze, is here copied in
_bucchero_.
* * * * *
No. 8. These vases are the work of those people who preceded the
Etruscans in Umbria. The forms are simple, the patterns purely
geometrical.
CASE D
Nos. 2, 3. Some quite common earthenware urns for the ashes of the
poor who could neither afford tombs nor inscriptions. On one or two
of these a name is scratched in rough black paint, probably with
the finger, and as a last token to the dead from someone who had
loved him.
* * * * *
No. 7. Some earthenware bottles corresponding to the beautiful
glass ones in Case A: those in earthenware were used for the tombs
of the poor.
ROOM III.
SARCOPHAGI.
This room has a selection of the most interesting Sarcophagi in the
museum. The corridors outside, and the staircase also, are filled
with other specimens of more or less interest.
There is always a certain monotony in a collection of Etruscan
tombs or sarcophagi, and the ordinary person wearies easily of the
recumbent figures which lie so stolidly in effigy upon the lids of
their own burial urns, with an expression of comfortable
contentment on their somewhat unexciting and uneventful
countenances. They seem, one and all of them, like persons who have
fallen asleep on peaceful days with easy consciences,--persons
whose hope of heaven is as slight as their fear of hell. They are,
most of them, middle-aged, the pathos of old age, the hope and the
passion of youth, is lacking in their faces. Their charm is to be
sought in their extreme repose.
There are several forms of tombs in the Perugian collection, that
with the recumbent figures on the lid being probably the one used
by the richer and more prosperous families. With few exceptions the
work on the sarcophagi is rather coarse--a singular and persistent
monotony of subject is displayed. The simpler forms have either a
rose or a Medusa on their front panels, the more elaborate are
ornamented with subjects from the Greek mythology, which seem to
clash at times with the conventional figures on their lids. The
story of Iphigenia is a favourite theme for the sarcophagi of
women.
On those of men, battles and boar-hunts figure largely, the labours
of Hercules too, and fights with the Amazons. It is probable that
these cases were kept in stock, and that when one was needed, the
order was simply given to add a face, a portrait face of man or
woman, to the figure, and sometimes an inscription. Most of the
figures hold the familiar _pateræ_ in their hand, others clasp
their long and heavy necklaces, some of them carry a flower--a
lotus, maybe, or a rose.
There was one quite different form of burial, when the whole body
was preserved in a stone sarcophagus. Sometimes the corpse must
have first undergone some kind of disintegration in the earth, as,
in one or two cases, we find the bones gathered together in a small
urn, into which the whole body could never have been pushed. At
other times it was stretched full length in its long stone case.
Infinitely pathetic is the figure of an Etruscan lady in the
corridor. There she lies just as they found her, exposed to the
most casual observer, with all the requisites for an exquisite
toilet upon the resurrection morning: her hot-water can, her
_strigil_, her looking-glass, her pins, the money to pay her
passage across the river to Eternity--nay, even the little metal
weights she wore to keep her long straight skirts in order--all
laid out carefully beside her, and nothing of the beauty left
beyond her white and shining teeth.
* * * * *
Faint traces of colour linger on some of these sarcophagi. Note No.
8. The hair of the Medusa is painted a delicate lilac hue, and the
acanthus leaves which encircle it are blue like the sky in spring
time.
* * * * *
No. 23. An exception to the usual design of Greek mythology. The
defence of a city--dare we say of Perugia--is here depicted. The
men are fighting beneath the walls; and in the towers above, a row
of valiant ladies are preparing to crush them with large and heavy
stones.
* * * * *
No. 30. These much smaller sarcophagi are made of terra cotta and
come from Chiusi. In many of them the dead are represented in a new
way; they have fallen asleep wrapped in long thin veils which cover
the entire figure.
ROOM IV.
CASE A.
No. 9. Some good specimens of Etruscan helmets, one of them with
flaps of iron to protect the ears of the warriors. We learn clearly
in this room that the Etruscans wore elaborate armour--helmets,
belts, greaves, and bronze and iron spear-heads being plentifully
represented.
CASE B.
No. 31. _Pempobolo_ or _graffio_--an instrument used for stirring
the bodies of the dead as they burned, and for raking in the ashes
afterwards.
* * * * *
No. 35. _Cottabu._ This strange looking implement was probably used
for a kind of game practised at Etruscan feasts. It is supposed
that at the end of a feast, when the guests grew merry, a toast was
proposed, and that a glass was put on the tray at the top of the
pole just under the little deity, and then carried round the room.
The broader plate below was put to catch the wine as it fell with
the swinging of this most ungainly instrument.
CASE D.
Nos. 10 to 33, 40 to 60. A collection of small metal images, Lari,
or household gods, most of them very Greek in treatment, some of
them archaic.
Nos. 34 to 40. A collection of lead missiles for slings. These are
inscribed with words of the most marked abuse designed for the
enemy. On one of them is written: (in Latin characters) "For thy
right eye"--the sort of naïve thing a schoolboy might design.
ROOM V.
"As beautiful pottery like that of Vulci and Tarquinii is very
rarely found at Perugia, it seems probable that it was not
manufactured on the spot," writes Dennis. And if one has seen the
various other local Etruscan Museums in Italy, one will feel
decidedly disappointed in the vase-room at Perugia. One or two
interesting points may however be noted. It is strange to mark the
difference between the two separate classes of vases, between the
genuine Greek work, which the Etruscans had the good taste to
prize, and that of their own imitations of it. Note Nos. 3, 5, 14,
all of which are probably Etruscan copies from real Greek vases.
They are like the imitative sketches of children, lacking in
understanding and in feeling, and pathetic in their clumsy failure.
Nos. 7, 8, 10, and 12, are all specimens probably of real Greek
work.
No. 22. A fine terra-cotta vase--probably genuine Etruscan
work--with four heads of Bacchus at the base.
ROOM VI.
The gems of the museum may be said to have been gathered together
in this room, and the object which at once attracts one on entering
is the large sarcophagus of an Etruscan gentleman and his evil
genius, or Fate, which stands by the east window. Dennis has an
admirable description of it: "An Etruscan of middle age," he says,
"is reclining in the usual costume and attitude of the banquet,
with a bossed phiala in his left hand, and his right resting on his
knee. At his feet squats a hideous old woman, stunted and deformed,
whose wings show her to be a demon. She seizes one of his toes with
her right hand and grasps his right wrist with her left. (Some
authorities say she is feeling the pulse of the dying man.) She
turns her head to look at him, yet he appears quite unconscious of
her presence. She doubtless represents the Moira or Fate, whose
touch deprives him of life. The monument is from Chiusi, and of the
fetid limestone of that district. Both heads are moveable, and the
bodies hollow, proving that this, which looks like the lid of a
sarcophagus, is itself a cinerary urn."
No. 18. An Etruscan helmet of the finest work.
No. 14. Two exquisite sarcophagi differing in every way from the
one described above. So flowery is the work upon them that one
scarcely realises to what dark ages they belong. The terra-cotta
seems just baked, the paint is sticking to it. The griffins and sea
horses, the portraits on the lids, all are most exquisitely
treated.
No. 12. The wonderful mirrors in this case have been admirably
described by Dennis (see page 428). The one with the story of Helen
engraved on it (No. 11) is quite one of the loveliest pieces of
work ever discovered in the soil of Etruria.
No. 3. A sarcophagus with the most delightful procession depicted
upon its panels. There has been a good deal of discussion about the
subject represented. Some say it is a migration, or a colony going
forth to fulfil the vow of sacred spring; others that it is a
procession going to a sacrifice. Dennis suggests another
interpretation. "It seems to me," he says, "much more satisfactory
to suppose that it is a return from a successful foray. There are
captives bound, and made to carry their own property for the
benefit of their victors; their women behind, not bound, but
accompanying their lords, their faithful dog following them into
captivity, their beasts of burden laden with their gods; their
weapons and agricultural implements carried by one of the guards
and their cattle driven on by the rest." The sacrifice is the most
probable interpretation, for there is something solemn and sinister
about the composition. Not only criminals but also human victims
are being taken along by the fascinating but inexorable guards. The
treatment of the figures is very archaic, and yet it is realistic.
The long-eared goats, the horses and the mules step forward with an
engaging regularity. Their shepherds or their leaders turn, as such
people invariably do turn, to gesticulate and to explain among
themselves upon the way. The two side panels represent
banquet-scenes, banquets, we may imagine, which were given to
commemorate whatever event the procession itself was leading to.
The work on this Sarcophagus has been ascribed to the fifth century
before Christ.
No. 8. Under a glass shade, a strange little figure in bronze about
14 inches high, representing Hygiea, the Goddess of Health
(daughter of Æsculapius) or, as some say, the Genius of Long Life.
Smaller figure under same glass represents Telesphorus, the genius
of convalescence, seated, entirely enveloped in a cloak.
ROOM VII.
has a rather miscellaneous collection of later Roman and Etruscan
work, also some objects from Cyprus.
No. 36. A little tomb where the door is left half open, the key
hung up upon a peg, perhaps to show that the spirit is free to
wander in and out.
ROOMS VIII. AND IX.
contain the private collection of Count Guadabassi collected by him
throughout a life-time and from very different places, and left to
the town at his death with the request that their original
arrangement should be preserved. Thus the impression of the whole
is somewhat distracting to a student. One of the greatest treasures
of the Museum is in
ROOM VIII.
CASE H.
A very beautiful Etruscan mirror with Bacchus, or a Bacchante,
riding on a panther upon the cover. Two good mirrors in the same
case, and a fine Etruscan gold ornament, with figures delicately
traced upon it.
[Illustration: ETRUSCAN MIRROR IN GUADABASSI COLLECTION]
To the right of the door, a white marble _oscillum_ or slab, with
the figure of Archimenes on one side, and on the other the portrait
of a juggler taming snakes. This was probably put up outside the
house or booth of a juggler, and served as his sign.
CASE L.
Some good bits of Etruscan jewellery. One necklace with a large bit
of glass like an opal, set in gold and precious stones; also some
very delicate Etruscan earrings, with golden nets of filagree on a
gold ground.
CASE H.
Some specimens of Etruscan money. The pieces were valued according
to their weight, and form seemed quite a secondary consideration.
CASE P.
A collection of _strigils_, or brass scrapers, to be used after the
bath. Some of these were evidently used as ornaments (hung from an
elegant bracelet or ring), which leads one to imagine that the bath
was a rarity with the Etruscans, and the _strigil_ an object of
luxury and decoration rather than of frequent use.
ROOM IX.
CASE G.
A fine collection of gems. A little tomb, with pent-roof and tiles
in the shape of violet leaves (unnumbered).
* * * * *
The following rooms of the museum, from Room X., contain various
mediæval and renaissance works. The only point we would mention
here is the case which holds the bones of the mighty man of
Perugia: Braccio Fortebraccio di Montone.
There they lie, bare and grim before us. Poor bones, insulted by a
Pope, buried and then unburied, and now laid out for any man to
look at! There is a note of pathos in the sight, which the
inscription does not lessen.
HOSPES LEGE ET LUGE.
Perusiæ natum Montonium me exulem excepit.
Mars patriam Umbriam et Capuam mihi subegit.
Roma paruit Italia theatrum spectator orbis fuit.
At Aquila cadentem risit quem patria lugens brevi hac urna tegit.
Eheu! Mars extulit, Mors substulit.
Abi.
A portrait of Braccio hangs above his coffin--a strong pugnacious
countenance, differing quite from his other portrait in the
Confraternità di San Francesco. On the opposite wall is a picture
of Niccolò Piccinino.
To close these notes on the museum we would mention another private
museum in Perugia full of extraordinary interest; that of Professore
Giuseppe Bellucci, in the Via Cavour.
* * * * *
Prof. Bellucci has made a special study of the people who preceded the
Etruscans in Umbria, and, after years of careful search and
indefatigable energy, has accumulated a grand collection of objects
belonging to the stone age, and to the earliest settlers on the hills.
Arrow heads, battleaxes from Trasimene, pottery and ornaments of
infinite variety, are carefully stored and arranged in the top rooms of
one of the most charming of the old Perugian palaces; also a surprising
collection of amulets against witches and the evil eye, of which Prof.
Bellucci has made a special study. This museum can be visited by anyone
who is interested in the subject, and its owner is always willing to
show it.[107]
THE TOMB OF THE VOLUMNII.
About three miles from Perugia, down at the foot of one of the last
hills which fall into the valley of the Tiber, a mysterious necropolis
of _Perusia Etrusca_ was discovered many years ago on the property of
Count Baglioni. It was a big necropolis full of innumerable urns of more
or less artistic interest, and the land about the hill seemed
honeycombed with small vaults holding their respective sarcophagi and
ashes.
Some time later--so tradition tells us--whilst a peasant was driving his
oxen over a field in this same place one of the oxen fell forward. When
the man came up to see what had happened, he found that the creature
had stumbled through the stones of a great arch which covered a
hitherto unsuspected subterranean passage.[108]
When the hole thus made was examined it was found to be in truth a steep
staircase cut in the tufa and covered over by a travertine vaulting. It
led steeply down to a huge door of travertine, and when this was opened,
the wonderful tomb, belonging to the private family of the Volumnii, was
disclosed. Unfortunately the ox was not the first person to open up this
extraordinary place. The earth and dust of centuries had, it is true,
fallen in upon it, but in the Roman times it had been already ransacked
for its possible treasures. Beautiful and extraordinary as the place is,
haunted by the silent grandeur and mystery of the dead, it is not quite
complete, and many of the urns are missing in its first compartments.
Still, as Dennis says, "it is one of the most remarkable in Etruria....
To enter the tomb," he continues was to him "like enchantment, not
reality, or rather it was the realization of the pictures of
subterranean palaces and spell-bound men, which youthful fancy had drawn
from the Arabian Nights, but which had long been cast aside into the
lumber room of the memory, now to be suddenly restored.... The
impressions received in this tomb first directed my attention to the
antiquities of Etruria," Dennis adds, and many people will echo his
words.
* * * * *
Leaving the dust and the sunlight, the green trees and the sunny banks
of the outside Umbrian world, we plunge down a narrow staircase and
through the tall doorway of travertine into the darkness of the
Etruscan sepulchre, and find ourselves in a dim, low vestibule with
stone seats round it, small chambers branching off to right and left,
and one large chamber at the end. Strange and fascinating heads look
down upon us from the ceiling, marvellous little deities, suspended by
many leaden chains, hang silent, as though they dreamed, above our
heads. Weird serpents' heads pierce through the walls and seem to hiss
at us; and in the dim light of the candles we realize a whole new world
of wonderful and deep set imagery, combining with that solid sense of
comfortable respectability peculiar to the race of men who lie here.
The tomb of the Volumnii has a strong and a convincing individuality. In
this fact consists its charm. The necropolis was built for one family.
The clear cut inscription on the door post at the entrance points to
this, the name repeated again and again upon the tomb proves it yet more
forcibly.[109]
To get a first and full impression of the place it is well to sit down
on one of the low stone seats which run round the walls of the
vestibule. These benches were probably used by members of the family in
the peculiar fashion of the Etruscans. We hear that in order to bring
themselves nearer to the dead and to communicate with the Spirit of
Death, they would come to the sepulchres at night-fall and sleep beside
the urns of their dead friends--their brothers, wives, their children or
their lovers--and there receive visions from the souls which always
hovered near the place where the body was buried. Members of the
Volumnii family who were courageous enough, or peaceful enough in their
own souls to do this thing, must have received strong and convincing
visions from surroundings so unearthly and mysterious.
A great round disk, the sun probably, guards the entrance door of the
vestibule. It seems to rise up out of the sea; two dolphins plunge head
foremost into the waves beneath it; and under these, above the left
lintel of the door, a great wing stretches, one knows not whence or
whither, into the darkness all around it.
On the opposite wall, and guarding the tomb, is another great disk
covered with scales, or as some say laurel leaves, and a splendid head
in its centre. The face is grandly moulded and belongs to the best
period of Etruscan art, when the souls of the artists were probably
steeped in the art of Greece. The expression is calm, pure, and full of
strength. It is probably meant to represent the God Numa, though some
imagine it to be Apollo himself. Below it are two busts which are
supposed to be portraits of Apollo in his two qualities of shepherd and
of poet; and guarding the disk, two great scimitars with birds perched
over them. (It is imagined that the Etruscans shared the Greek belief
about birds sympathising in the death of mortals. The flight and ways of
birds, certainly formed a large part of their religion, but in this
case nothing can be actually proved). Vermiglioli having studied
various other points in the necropolis, suggests that the Volumnii were
a race of warriors and that the scimitars were a symbol of their warlike
ways.
Passing through this second doorway one stands in the actual presence of
some members of the family of the Volumnii. There they sit together on
their beautiful stuccoed urns: "each on a snow-white couch" says Dennis,
"with garlanded brow, torque-decorated neck, and goblet in hand--_a
petrifaction of conviviality_--in solemn mockery of the pleasures to
which for ages on ages they have bidden adieu."[110]
They are surprisingly real, this family, and they sit there now, just
exactly as they were sitting two thousand years or more ago.[111] The
figures and the sarcophagi are made of terra-cotta covered by a dead
white stucco which gives them a singularly modern look. Each sarcophagus
has the head of a Medusa on it, but of a marvellously fair Medusa, a
creature to adore, a woman to attract, a creature incapable of inspiring
aught save admiration.[112]
The sarcophagus in the centre of the group appears to have belonged to
Aruns Volumnius the head of the family. It is the most heavily decorated
of the set. Aruns lies on a well-draped couch. Two mysterious
figures--Furies, but attractive Furies--guard his urn. They are a
splendid piece of work, and have naturally enough been compared with the
work of Michelangelo; there is something muscular about them, and their
pose
[Illustration: TOMB OF ARUNS VOLUMNIUS]
is tragic, like that which the sculptor of the Renaissance delighted to
give to his figures. Unfortunately the fresco, which was perfect when
the tomb was opened, has fallen to bits in the damp air which enters
through the open door. To Aruns' left his daughter sits on her urn, to
his right his son, and next to his son the beautiful young wife Veilia,
or Velia. One could write a romance about Veilia. The beauty of her
profile haunts one like a dream. Was she an Etruscan or some woodland
creature? Surely the dull and conventional gentleman to whom she was
early married bored her into a decline? Certain it is that she died
young, and that the sculptor who made this portrait of her, loved and
understood the beauty of her human face, and drew it in as faithfully as
he had drawn the dull one of her husband and his family. All the other
portraits have the usual respectable Etruscan stamp upon them. Veilia
alone has a touch of the divine.
One beautiful little sarcophagus in the group differs from all around
it. It is exquisite in all its detail and built in the form of a temple
with doors and Corinthian columns, pent roof, and exquisite tracery upon
its walls. (The inscriptions upon it are written both in Roman and
Etruscan characters; but although this sounds like a delightful
dictionary they do not appear to coincide.) Four exquisite sphinxes and
a little frieze of lions' heads guard the roof; heavy garlands of fruit
and flowers hang from the skulls of oxen on the panels; and birds and
butterflies--symbols of the immortality of the human soul--are
marvellously carved about them.
* * * * *
The remaining cells have each some beautiful and interesting thing in
them, but the main historical interest is passed after the chambers of
the Volumnii urns; and the most beautiful things to note are the heads
of the Gorgons or Medusas carved in the tufa of the ceilings. Some say
that these heads are portraits of the family. Their eyes and teeth are
painted white. They seem to stare at one with calm kind eyes which have
looked into the centuries and realised the futility of human things.
* * * * *
To the present writers the Medusa of the Etruscan people is its
greatest and its most attractive study. She is always grand, beautiful
and mysterious; the material and conventional aspects of the Etruscan
race vanish and fly before her steady gaze, and in the Volumnian tomb
she reigns supreme.
CHAPTER XII
_In Umbria_
L'Apennin est franchi, et les collines modérées, les riches plaines
bien encadrées commencent à se déployer et à s'ordonner comme sur
l'autre versant. Cà et là une ville en tas sur une montagne, sorte
de môle arrendi, est un ornement du paysage, comme on en trouve
dans les tableaux de Poussin et de Claude. C'est l'Apennin, avec
ses bandes de contre-forts allongés dans une péninsule étroite, qui
donne à tout le paysage italien son caracterè; point de longs
fleuves ni de grandes plaines: des valleés limitées, de nobles
formes, beaucoup de roc et beaucoup de soleil, les aliments et les
sensations correspondantes; combien de traits de l'individu et de
l'histoire imprimés par ce caractère!
H. TAINE, _Voyage en Italie_.
We cannot study the history of a single town without acquiring a certain
knowledge of the towns around it, for the character of one set of people
was formed and influenced by that of another, and the land on which
cities are built is often in itself an explanation of their past. In no
country perhaps are these facts more strongly marked than in Umbria,
where even the smallest hamlet is perched upon a high hill-side as
though to provoke attention, and where the larger cities glare at each
other from commanding eminences, seeming, even in this peaceful
nineteenth century, to challenge one another by the mere aspect of their
mighty walls.
We cannot stay long in Perugia without getting its surrounding landscape
stamped upon our minds. That circle of small cities so distinctly seen:
Assisi, Spello, Foligno to the east, Montefalco, Trevi, Bettona, and
Torgiano to the south, and Città della Pieve westwards, all of them
perched upon their separate hill-top around the bed of the now vanished
lake (see chapter i.), excite one's fancy and one's longing, at first
perhaps unconsciously, and later with an irresistible persistence.
Finally we are driven to pack our trunks and wander out amongst them.
* * * * *
From a practical point of view, travelling in Umbria, even in its most
remote villages, is made extremely easy. The inhabitants are friendly
and courteous, and utterly unspoiled by tourists. The inns are clean,
the main roads excellent; prices reasonable, and carriages, with few
exceptions, good. From a romantic or artistic point of view, nothing can
excel the charm of such travelling. We are weary of hearing the stated
fact that every town in Italy is worth the visiting; but, however
hackneyed the remark, we must make it once again in the case of the
towns around Perugia. Each has an individual charm, a long and carefully
recorded history. We exclude Assisi, for that town is a study in itself,
a thing above and apart. Assisi may be called the Jerusalem of Italy;
its connection with one of the greatest Saints of the Catholic world has
made its churches monuments of art and history, a centre for pilgrims
and for painters throughout a period of nearly seven hundred years; and
quite apart from its history as a town (the walls of Assisi date back to
400 B.C.) this presence or possession of the saints has excited a whole
literature of art and of devotion.
But besides the towns we have mentioned above, there are a host of other
cities very near: Gubbio, Arezzo, Città di Castello, Terni, Spoleto,
Narni, Orvieto, Chiusi, Cortona and many others less or better known.
It is the diversity and contrast of these towns which charms one, but
space forbids that we should offer anything beyond a few small
travelling notes concerning one or two of them.
GUBBIO.
The road to Gubbio from Perugia leads over a mountain pass as wild, and
as forbidding in its aspect, as that of any in the Alps. Leaving the
broad and wooded valley of the Tiber it winds in long fantastic
wind-swept curves across the spines of the lower Apennines, then plunges
somewhat suddenly down into the smiling fields and oak woods of the
valley under Gubbio. The position of the town is most remarkable. It
looks out on a smiling peaceful valley, but is backed by a terrific
mountain gorge which would serve as an iron breastplate in the time of
siege. Gubbio is a small brown-coloured town, compact and perfect in its
parts; it has never changed since the middle ages. A fine Roman theatre,
a mysterious Roman mausoleum, fallen asleep on the cornfields outside
the city walls, tell of her early prime, but the character of the place,
as we see it now, is purely mediæval. The people themselves have the
spirit of their ancestors; the worship, which is almost like a fetish
worship, of their patron Saint Ubaldo is as passionate in its intensity
to-day as it was seven hundred years ago, when Barbarossa threatened to
destroy the town.[113] There is scarcely a single new building in
Gubbio. The great weaving-looms in the piazza are a relic of the city's
commerce in the Middle Ages, and the exquisite line of the palace of her
rulers, Palazzo dei Consoli, with the slim bell tower soaring up against
the barren outline of the gorge, lives in one's memory long after many
other points of Umbrian cities are forgotten.
Gubbio's bell tower and Gubbio's Madonna are points which we remember
with delight. Almost every Umbrian city has its local painter. Nelli is
the painter of Gubbio and the gem of all his works has been left on the
actual wall for which it first was painted. It was icy wintry weather,
although the month was May, when we arrived at Gubbio, but in the fields
all round it the flax shone grey and blue like a lagune. Had Nelli seen
such flax fields when he painted his Madonna's and his angels' gowns?
The stuffs he gave them were as blue, as pure, as all these flowers put
together.[114]
SPELLO.
Early one morning we left Perugia and passed along the plain to Spello.
We found it in a halo of May sunlight. There was nothing grim or
forbidding, nothing Etruscan about the smiling little town; the sunlight
and the air crept into the heart of its streets and seemed to linger
there. Yet these were narrow and steep and made for war and not for
peace or comfort, just like the streets of Perugia. Their character
indeed is so purely mediæval and untouched, that the chains which
guarded them at nightfall are even left hanging in one place to the
walls.
Right away from the town amongst the olive trees we came to the convent
of S. Girolamo. There in the back of the choir is the little fresco of
the Marriage of the Virgin by Pinturicchio--faint in colour and fragile
in outline, but charming in its composition.
Pinturicchio is the painter of Spello; there is much of his work in the
churches. He came there to paint for Troilo, one of the Baglioni, lords
of Spello. Hence he was called to Siena to do his well-known series of
frescoes for the Piccolomini. A whole chapel in S. Maria Maggiore is
covered with his works, and he has put his own portrait amongst them
with a string of beads, a brush and palette hanging from it. The
artist's face is thin and melancholy, but the frescoes round it are
large in line and treatment and some of the best specimens of his
religious work. There they stand mouldering mysteriously in the dim
light of the little old church for which this master made them four
hundred years ago. We lingered long before them, then passed back into
the sunlit street and drove away through the gate of the town with the
Roman senators above it and out across the hot dry plain to the city of
Foligno.[115]
FOLIGNO.[116]
Sunk, as it were, in a broad basin of plain, through which the quiet
waters of Clitumnus drain slowly to the Tiber, is the city of
Foligno--that city which Perugia so detested, so offended in the past.
The town has all the character of the towns of the plain. Driving
through its straight and even streets we felt as though we were in
Lombardy, in Padua or Ferrara. There were Lombard lions in the porch and
Lombard beasts around the arch of the Duomo. The houses were all shut
up, square, silent, cool, preparing, as it seemed, for summer heat and
dust, and infinite hours of afternoon. The place was flat and drowsy,
but we liked it and studied in its churches with delight.
* * * * *
Niccolò Alunno is the painter of Foligno. Some of his work is scattered
through the churches, and more is gathered together in the small
Pinacoteca together with that of other early Umbrian masters. Very gold
and brown the frescoes seemed, very sober and religious in their
sentiment. Here one could study the Umbrian school, apart from the
Peruginesque, and it struck us that the art of the first Umbrian
painters was a natural, and (if one may say so in this age of critics)
an inspired one, which sprang straight up from the soil about the feet
of the painters, and was only influenced at certain purely decorative
points by the teaching of the Florentines. The angels were the Umbrian
children, well groomed, well fed, and wholly unaffected. Neither
Paganism nor Christianity had very much to do with them. When Perugino's
ripened influence came in, they weakened as garden flowers weaken, in
their power of appeal through pure simplicity. The first faces of
Umbrian saints and angels were simple like the Umbrian dog-rose.
Perugino turned them into garden roses. Both in their way were fair, but
the former flowers seemed nearer the divine than those which had been
trained and cultivated.
It is not possible to mention here all the pictures of Foligno. There
are two fine Alunnos in S. Niccolò; and a rather surprising Mantegna
with the colour of brown wine--colour of passion and pain, which clashes
with the Perugino just beside it--on the chapel of the Nunziatella. The
Palazzo Communale is covered with the work of Nelli, but one feels that
the painter who so loved what was gay and rich and beautiful (see his
picture at Gubbio) wanted a lot more gold and ultramarine than his
patron allowed him when painting the ceiling of this chapel.
Before leaving Foligno we went into the church of S. Maria infra Portas.
It is so old, this little low basilica, that it has sunk quite deep into
the soil around it. Inside are many faded frescoes, brown and gold, and
full of almost painful early sentiment. As we stood among them in the
dusk, a blackbird poured a flood of freshest song in through the door
from the light of the courtyard. "How your bird sings!" we said to the
custode. "Yes," said the man; "he sings all day; but whether for love or
rage I cannot tell." ... And it struck us that no Umbrian of a hill
town, or no Perugian anyway, would have made this profoundly melancholy
statement about a tame bird's song.
MONTEFALCO
The road from Foligno to Montefalco leads all along the flat at first,
through the peaceful vale of the Clitumnus. Sometimes we crossed the
water and saw the reeds and rushes growing, and felt the cool fresh
breath of the enchanted stream. Then passing under a mediæval
watch-tower we left the flat land and began the steep ascent to
Montefalco.
The town stands on a hill in the very heart of Umbria, and hence it is
called by the people the _ringhiera d'Umbria_. We saw it "on a day of
many days," and it struck us that this was the site of the city of our
dreams--the best, the fairest we had ever met in travel. The sun was low
as we drove through the gates. Far below us and around us stretched the
Umbrian landscape, the bed of the old Umbrian lake: long green waves of
blue and green, seething in the heated air of the May afternoon.[117]
The town felt very quiet and deserted. The grass grew everywhere through
the stones of its piazza. In silence the children played, in silence the
women sat at their doors, the place had fallen asleep. But once the city
knew prosperity, and many painters climbed the steep roads from the
plain below, and came to Montefalco to leave some impress of their art
upon the walls of chapels and of churches. Hither came Benozzo Gozzoli
in 1449, and here he painted many of his early frescoes. What brought
the splendid Florentine to the tiny town we wondered? He came in the
very prime of his youth, and they say that he did so, simply because he
was connected with the Dominicans of the place. Certainly he settled
here for seven years or so, did good work, and spread the influence of
Florence throughout the minds of the rising Umbrian masters. Benozzo's
early work at Montefalco is fresh, raw, naïve. It lacks the finish and
the gilded ornaments of the Riccardi chapel, but in exchange it holds a
certain simple and religious sentiment which is lacking in his later
frescoes. The best of his paintings are in the church of S.
Francesco,[118] and there are several other good pictures of the Umbrian
painters here--a fine Tiberio d'Assisi and some things by Melanzio. In
one of the latter, a portrait of the painter by himself--a tall, slim
youth with long light hair and earnest face full of quiet thought and
strength. Melanzio is the painter of Montefalco, and luckily his work is
well preserved in many of the churches. The little frieze of angels
playing with carnations above the left hand altar as one enters the
church of the Illuminata, is one of the most fascinating bits of detail
that we have ever seen.
* * * * *
Before leaving Montefalco we drove out to the convent of S. Fortunato,
which lies to the east of the town. There were pictures there--of these
we remember little; but the lanes which led to the convent we never
shall forget. They were warm deep lanes and the hedges above were full
of dog-roses and honeysuckle, the light inside was green and blue like
the landscape down upon the plain. The lanes of Montefalco were as
beautiful a vision as we have ever seen. Like the frescoes of Melanzio
they had the colour of a tropic butterfly, and like the flight of
butterflies they hover in our memory.
FOLIGNO TO SPOLETO.
In the very height of the midday we left Foligno and took the road to
Spoleto. It is a fine broad road, passing along the site of the old
Flaminian Way, grand, dusty, white, with a feeling that Rome is at the
end of it, and Umbria but a little land to be passed quickly by. As we
trundled along in our clumsy landau dragged by a pair of miserable
horses, we thought of all the popes, the emperors and legions, who,
going south or northwards, had passed in this direction. The dust flew
up and almost choked us; it was the week of the wild roses, and the
hedges were all aglow with their delicious blossoms, their petals bent
wide back as though to catch the very essence of the sunlight on their
golden stamens. We left the main road a little below Trevi, and driving
through fields and oak woods, passed up the hills by a steep short cut
which leads to the town above. This road cannot be recommended to
travellers unless they go on foot; our poor little city horses struggled
painfully over the sand and pebbles of the numerous streams it crosses.
But what a stretch of country for the artist! Everywhere the poppies
were in flower--a shimmer of pure cadmiums and carmines under the oaks
and the olives. After about an hour's climb we came out suddenly on the
broad bastions of the road which runs from Trevi to the convent of S.
Martino.
TREVI.
The tiny town of Trevi is a familiar object to all who pass along the
line to Rome. It stands, as one expects all Umbrian towns to stand, a
crown of buildings closely packed upon a little hill-top. The city felt
bare and baked when we entered it, and we left it soon to wander round
its bastion-road; a thing which was fairer far than all the pictures in
the churches.[119] Long we sat in the grasses, tracing out the landmarks
in the heat mist far below us: Montefalco in the foreground, Perugia
behind it, Assisi and Spello a little to the right, and, sunk in the
broad plain of the Clitumnus, just as Raphael painted them four hundred
years ago, the houses and the towers of Foligno.
THE TEMPLE OF CLITUMNUS.
"Hinc albi, Clitumne, greges, et maxima taurus
Victima, saepe tuo perfusi flumine sacro,
Romanos ad templa Deum duxere triumphos."
Georg. ii. 146.
Barely three miles from Trevi, just off the dusty road, in the burning
heat of a brewing storm, we came to the Temple of Clitumnus. This
marvellously romantic spot needs no description of ours, for the tiny
temple seems to hold the very essence of what is best in pagan art and
worship, and its praises have been sung by classic poets throughout the
course of centuries.[120]
[Illustration: THE TEMPLE OF CLITUMNUS]
With the following stanzas passing through one's mind, one may linger
very long and pleasantly down by the water's edge, and dragging one's
hands in the cool stream, and looking towards the temple up above, dream
golden dreams of river gods and hamadryads as well as of "milk white
steer."
"But thou, Clitumnus! in thy sweetest wave
Of the most living crystal that was e'er
The haunt of river nymph, to gaze and lave
Her limbs where nothing hid them, thou dost rear
Thy grassy banks whereon the milk-white steer
Grazes; the purest god of gentle waters!
And most serene of aspect, and most clear;
Surely that stream was unprofaned by slaughters--
A mirror and a bath for Beauty's youngest daughters!
"And on thy happy shore a Temple still,
Of small and delicate proportion, keeps,
Upon a mild declivity of hill,
Its memory of thee; beneath it sweeps
Thy current's calmness; oft from out it leaps
The finny darter with the glittering scales,
Who dwells and revels in thy glassy deeps;
While, chance, some scattered water-lily sails
Down where the shallower wave still tells its bubbling tales.
"Pass not unblest the Genius of the place!
If through the air a zephyr more serene
Win to the brow, 'tis his; and if ye trace
Along his margin a more eloquent green,
If on the heart the freshness of the scene
Sprinkle its coolness, and from the dry dust
Of weary life a moment lave it clean
With Nature's baptism,--'tis to him ye must
Pay orisons for this suspension of disgust."
See "Childe Harold's Pilgrimage," Canto IV., stanza lxvi., etc.
SPOLETO.
Late in the light of a thundery evening we drove into the town of
Spoleto. As our weary horses dragged us through the city gates, and up
and under the walls of the silent town, a sort of terror and of gloom
possessed our spirits. Here was something new and big and strange. What
did it mean? Gradually we became accustomed to the spirit of the place,
and seemed to realise the reason of its grim impression.
For days we had been steeped in Umbrian landscape as one expects to know
it nowadays, in gentle fields, in lanes, and hills and sunny
pastures--in those same things which gave to the Umbrian saints and
painters the spirit of peace. Spoleto had none of these. Spoleto is
purely Umbrian, as far as geography goes, she was at one time the head
of Umbrian matters, but the town was always independent, a thing apart,
or rather, perhaps, influenced by the influence of larger rules and
kingdoms. Hers is a stirring history,[121] and the sense of her wars and
of her dukes lives on within her stones, and is stamped upon her houses
and her church walls. There was a smell of dukes and cardinals, of
pomposity and vastness, even in the rooms of our inn[122]; and the very
landscape round seemed throttled by the passing of imperial people. It
was as though a great emperor had taken a peasant girl and dressed her
up in gorgeous clothes and given her a splendid palace for a home. The
girl (the gentle spirit of Umbria) withered, but the palace built for
her remained, and the best thing about it--its grand supply of freshest
water from the hills above, brought down in great Roman aqueducts--has
never been removed.
As we pondered these things we remembered the brown roofs and the square
of S. Lorenzo at Perugia, and we thought them better than all the
grandeur of imperial powers stuffed into a narrow creek of the Umbrian
hills.
Yet Spoleto is a place which excites a strong and lasting fascination.
Its situation is magnificent. The citadel of Theodoric soars above it: a
mighty block of masonry; at its feet the Duomo and the town, and at its
back the towering crags, covered here and there with a dense growth of
ilex, box, and oak. Town and mountain are divided by a deep gorge, but
this is spanned by the Roman aqueduct, 266 feet in height, and the most
remarkable point of the whole town. To get a full impression of Spoleto
one should cross the aqueduct and walk or ride to Monte Luco, a convent
built immediately above the city, in the midst of the ilex woods.
Thence, on a broad bastion, outside the cell where S. Francis came to
pray, one's eye wanders over a magnificent stretch of plain and hill and
river, backed by a land of barren mountain tops and gorges.
* * * * *
Very few treasures of art are left in the town itself, and these are as
bruised, as scattered, and unsatisfactory as those of any city whose
history is one of fighting and perpetual sieges rather than of artists
or of fame. Lo Spagna lived at Spoleto, and worked there largely; but
the gentle style of his colouring, the peace and often affectation of
his figures seems out of place on the altars of half barbaric or barocco
churches. Everywhere there are bits of Roman building picked up and
stuck about on pavements and façades: a painful mixture, lacking care
and order. Several of the churches have good Lombard fronts; the Chiesa
del Crocifisso is built from the ruins of a Roman temple, but the place
is only a pain to see in its dilapidation.
The Duomo is a really impressive building, with a splendid Lombard
front--a broad balcony supported by columns, and eight rose windows
above it. The roof of the choir is painted by Filippo Lippi.
Filippo Lippi died at Spoleto in 1489. He was poisoned, some say, this
Florentine monk, because of his loves with an Umbrian lady. Lorenzo de'
Medici tried to get his body back that they might bury it in Florence,
but the Spoletans refused, pleading that they possessed so few objects
of interest of their own that they must needs keep the bones of this
great painter for an ornament. So Lorenzo caused his tomb to be built in
the cathedral of Spoleto. As we turned from the long Latin inscription
written above it we felt that Browning's lines would have served the
purpose just as well, and much more shortly:
"_Flower o' the clove,_
_All the Latin I construe is, 'amo' I love!_"
NARNI.
Leaving Trevi and its cataracts to the left we passed in the train to
Narni. We came there for an hour, we stayed a whole day and a night,
fascinated by the marvellous view which met us from the windows of the
inn.[123] Part of the city of Narni is built immediately upon the steep
crags which overhang the gorge of the Nar. From this side the position
of the city may be practically called inaccessible, and over it our
windows looked. We had seen the Umbrian plains and valleys, we had seen
Spoleto; Narni again was a fresh surprise, it seemed to represent to us
the Umbrian Alps. The place has a tempestuous history. There is a
certain beaten look about its walls which reminded us of Perugia, and,
indeed, the cities are alike in many ways. Both were practically in the
power of the Popes whilst considering themselves as independent
republics, both fostering perpetual feuds between the neighbouring
cities.[124] But whereas Perugia has kept an ample record of her past,
that of Narni is almost obliterated. Through a piece of misguided policy
she laid herself open to a horrible siege in 1527 (see pamphlet by
Giuseppe Terrenzi). The Bourbons entered the town, sacked the houses,
butchered her inhabitants, destroyed her considerable treasures of art,
and finally, made an end of nearly all her archives.
* * * * *
In Narni, however, we did not look for art. We came there almost
unexpectedly, and unexpectedly we stayed, wandering through its streets,
discovering with delight the rare and lovely bits of Lombard tracery on
house and church door, and passing in and out between the Roman
gateways.[125] At night we sat in the quiet rooms
[Illustration: NARNI (WITH ANGELO INN IN FOREGROUND)]
of the Angelo inn, and listened to the nightingales which sang with
their habitual vehemence deep in the ilex woods across the river Nar.
They had sung, no doubt, in just this fashion hundreds of years ago,
when the Bourbons broke into the town and half destroyed her people.
ORVIETO.
In the dull light of coming rain we turned our backs on Narni and took
the train for Orte. We left the sun at the same time as we left the
green and wooded hills and valleys. The rain came down in sheets at
Orte; and we found ourselves in the deadly land--the land of grey
volcanic strata, bare like a bone, in the valley of the Paglia. Dreary
enough was the outlook when we came to Orvieto. The city seemed as
though it had been drenched in the ink of a wounded sepia; the streets
were black and foul, the houses low and closely packed; walls without
towers, dwindled and decayed rather than bombarded, and people with
fever-stricken faces huddled in the square.
* * * * *
Heavy drenching rain of spring. Under the darkness of the clouds,
soaring high as a glorious vision above the miserable houses--a peacock
in a hen-coop, a miracle of marbles and mosaics--the Duomo of
Orvieto!... No one who has ever seen the building can forget it, for it
is like a great surprise; it startles and astounds one in the midst of
the decay around it. Here, if anywhere in Umbria, the power of the Pope
or of the Church was sealed on the rebellious souls of its inhabitants;
here to commemorate a dubious miracle men made a dream in stone.[126] To
describe its splendours were in this small sketch a mere impertinence.
But if we wish to see what is perhaps the finest bit of Gothic work in
Italy, if we wish to learn the power of Signorelli's painting, it is
certain that we must come hither and study at Orvieto.
* * * * *
As we turned our back on the cathedral we wondered what it was about her
people which had allowed them to foster such a mighty piece of purest
art throughout a turbulent history. Certainly the popes had power in the
city.[127] They made it a mighty church, they made for it an almost
mightier well! When Clement VII. fled from Rome in 1527 he took refuge
in Orvieto, and, haunted by the fear of drought in case of siege,
conceived the extraordinary idea of building a colossal well, for which
purpose he employed the same architect as Paul III. employed to build
his fortress at Perugia.
Signorelli painted a picture of the Inferno for Orvieto, Sangallo built
for it an Inferno in bricks! Feathery mosses, sombre ferns have grown
across the inside walls of the great _pozzo_ (which was built on a scale
to suit a train of ascending and descending elephants); they seemed to
seethe like sulphurous smoke in the dark and fetid air and we hurried
from it gladly into the rain of the street....
CHIUSI.
From Orvieto we went to Chiusi. The rain went with us too, and of the
town itself we saw but little, only all around us in the dense woods, in
the silent soaking air of night, the nightingales were singing their
piercing penetrating songs of love and May. The air was full of the
strong sweet voices and of the scent of growing leaves, of privet, and
wet earth. Chiusi is a centre of interest to students of Etruscan
history, and although the little town exports its treasures to every
museum in Europe its own is full of beauties still. We lingered long
among them, fascinated by the goblin birds which are perched upon the
vases and the pent roof of the tombs, fascinated by the excellence and
the variety of the greater part of all the objects in the cases. The
rain poured pitilessly upon the streets of Chiusi; it swept in sheets
across the lake and over the towers of Montepulciano, and we abandoned
all hopes of going to the tombs themselves and drove away across the
marshes and up the wooded hills to Città della Pieve.[128]
CITTÀ DELLA PIEVE.
... "j'étais tout de même persuadé que Città della Pieve reste la ville
la plus merveilleuse de l'Ombrie," says M. Broussole; and we ourselves
in many ways agreed with him. The charm of the town consists firstly, in
its situation, and secondly, in its association. It commands wide views
northwards over the lakes of Chiusi and of Trasimene, and southwards
towards Rome. The hill on which it stands is densely wooded, there is
perpetual peace in its streets, it is the birth-place of Pietro
Perugino and contains some faint fair bits of the master's later work.
All day we wandered through the town, and when the evening came we found
ourselves at service in the church of Santa Maria dei Servi.
* * * * *
It was May, the month of Mary. The people from the town came pouring in
for benediction. They were nearly all of them very poor people, the men
haggard with perpetual labour in the fields,[129] quiet and eager even
when very old; the girls fair, slim, colourless, their shawls too well
defining the slender slope of their thin shoulders; the children brown
and fascinating, and the older women lost in prayer. (We have noticed
that the veriest hags in Umbria seem to pray as though they fully
realised the sins of their forefathers, and felt the present generation
needed all their prayers.) Peace and poverty were the two things which
were stamped most clearly on the faces of the congregation. The priests
themselves looked poor and worn, shorn of their fat homes and
privileges. There were not many candles on the altar and these they
lighted slowly one by one. Then they begun to sing a long low wailing
chaunt in praise of Mary.
It had thundered and rained since morning. The day died out in an orange
glow which filtered through the hedges on the road outside and fell
through the door of the church, gilding, as though with the softness of
a vision, the groups of tired people. It rested with a wonderful
radiance on the faded fresco above the chapel where we sat.[130]
In all the country round, it would have been difficult to find a scene
more steeped in the spirit of pastoral Umbria than this one: the
half-ruined church, the graceful tired people, the thin priests, and the
faded fresco of Perugino; the whole saved from squalor by the splendour
of the sunlight on the land outside the door.
We opened a book which we had carried with us on our journey and read
the following lines:
"Oh! qui nous délivrera du mal de science! N'est-ce point folie
d'avoir étouffé à grand peine tous les meilleurs instincts de notre
être, pour obéir à la mode du jour et nous faire une âme critique!
Adieu les beaux enthousiasmes! On n'ose plus aimer la vérité
d'aujourd'hui depuis qu'on ne sait jamais qu'elle sera celle de
demain! Il y, a des erreurs dont on ne peut se consoler. Quelle
pitié de s'être prosterné tant de fois avec toutes les tendresses
de son âme croyante devant un escalier vermoulu que des moines
trompeurs exhibaient depuis des siècles comme ayant abrité la
sainte pénitence d'un saint Alexis qui n'a jamais existé! Ne
donnons plus jamais notre coeur à la vérité! Promenons sur les
choses et les hommes l'eternel sourire de notre indifférence
moqueuse. C'est là qu' est le plaisir et le charme de la saine
critique. Tout sera parfait quand les histoires commenceront et
finiront par ce gai refrain _Chi lo sa_."[131]
* * * * *
_Chi lo sa._--The words brought up before our eyes a host of images:
hedges and fields, woods and plains, green with the green of the
May-time: white roads and poppy fields, the oak woods under Trevi, the
ilex groves of Spoleto, the long low lines of shining Trasimene, the
marshy shores of Chiusi; and still more fair and more romantic, the cool
green stream of the Clitumnus flowing beneath the pagan temple of a
Roman river god.... That was the vision we had learned to love and know,
with no attempt to criticise, and it was all composed of natural things.
Dimly in the past we saw another vision: our study at Perugia. Piles and
piles of manuscripts were there; books and maps, and guides, pamphlets,
chronicles and histories--the records of men's doings, one and all.
* * * * *
What about all this history, these interminable records of building and
of quarrelling, of burying and strife? What in fact about all these
Perugian P's:--_Persecuzione_, _Protezione_, _Processione_; Popes,
people, painters, and _Priori_? What had all these persons done to touch
or trammel permanently the eternal smile of Umbrian nature through which
we had been passing? Surely there were lovers who, amongst the savage
bands of men who skirmished down the hill across the plains in order to
insult or to offend their neighbours, stopped to snatch a white rose
from the hedges where they grew in thousands? And there were women,
young and pure and peaceful, ignorant of the Pope, indifferent to the
Baglioni, who waited for them in their homes--women with the faces of
Bonfigli's angels, Bonfigli's roses, maybe, twisted in their hair?...
With dim delight we realised that whatever the doings of the past may
have been in Umbria as elsewhere, the microscopic scratches made by him
through centuries upon the calm smooth breast of Nature have now all
turned to a delicate adornment. The war and the strife, the hurrying and
skurrying to power have vanished utterly. Man's work is there: wonderful
little cities of men made one with Nature now; frescoes fading into
death around the quiet altars of forgotten churches, fortresses and
wells and city walls, bridges and the tombs of vanished nations; new
buildings rising here and there upon the old, new people praying or
parading, where the old had fought and prayed. But above them all the
balm of sun and rain, of rivers, lakes and water-courses doing their
work.
* * * * *
As the twilight fell we left the church. Early the following morning we
turned our faces northward on Perugia, but took a last long look at
Perugino's altar-piece in the church of the Disciplinati. Faint golds,
faint greens, a quiet landscape, with low hills falling peacefully on a
low stretch of valley. No harsh shadows, no high lights, the shepherds
crossing down the paths behind their browsing sheep. The Virgin, a type
of purest girlhood with just enough of the woman in the way she holds
the Child to show it is her own; young men, for kings, with angel faces,
and the smile of saints; no touch of passion, no glimmer of pain ...
that was the sense of the picture.
As we looked at it the people from the town came in to see it too, the
baker and the smith, the driver and the local painter. "You see," said
the smith, "it is a very beautiful thing this picture of ours; and when
we hear it is uncovered we come to see it too. We particularly like that
white dog in the background, and the shepherds are exactly like the
life. We often come to look at it--how should we do otherwise?"
The smith was tall and slim and very gentle. His face was like that of
the youthful king who holds the chalice in Pietro's fresco, it merely
lacked the affectation, and his perfectly simple comments seemed to us
more genuine and impressive than many books of critics. We listened to
them gladly, but as we turned our faces homewards, we remembered
certain other subtle and delightful phrases written by Alinda Brunamonti
upon a work of Perugino. With these calm words we close a book which
opened with the clash of swords and the conflicts of the Umbrian people:
"Sorrow does not disturb serenity; pain is at enmity with joy but not
with peace. This Christian law is incarnated within our art. Peace and
not joy is in her idylls; peace in the landscapes which are so utterly
our own, and so serenely beautiful. How often--even whilst my vision
wandered into the infinitude of sky behind our blue green hills, and
further again beyond the outposts of the Apennines, and further still
away into the depths of the azure-laden air--have I not said unto
myself; 'This vision surely is of an insuperable loveliness! How
therefore could our artists fail to be above all things _ideal_ when
Nature of herself had trained them in schools of such an exquisite
perfection?'"
[Illustration: PLAN OF PERUGIA]
INDEX
A
ABBOT, of S. Pietro (Guidalotti), 38;
treacherously assassinates B. Michelotti, 39;
flies from Perugia, 40.
ADONE DONI, picture by, 119; 181.
AGILULF, King of the Lombards, recaptures Perugia, 15.
ALBANO, bishop of, (Cardinal Angelico), Urban VI.'s
Vicar General in Perugia, 30, 184.
ALBORNOZ, Cardinal, attempts to recover States of the Church, 30.
ALEXANDER VI., Pope, enmity with Baglioni, (note) 55; 263.
ALFANI, Domenico and Orazio, 234; 264; 265.
ALUNNO, Niccolò, 235; 251; 295.
ANGELICO, Fra Beato, 235;
his pictures at Perugia, 256, 257, 258.
AQUILA, siege of, by B. Fortebraccio, 48; 49; 50; 207; 209.
AREZZO, 18;
wars with Perugia, 21, 22, 111, 112; 291.
ARMANNI, Cristiano, contributes towards building of S. Domenico, 164.
ASSISI, taken by Totila, 13; 18;
wars with Perugia, 19; 30; 37; 41; 43; 60; 85; 98; 118; 182; 290; 300.
AUDIENCE Chamber of Magistrates, Renaissance woodwork in, 229.
AUGUSTUS, Emperor, takes Perugia, 9; 12; 91; 171.
B
BACCIO D'AGNOLO, 190.
BAGLIONI, 33;
murder of Pandolfo, 37;
Spello given to Malatesta, 51;
blood-feuds with the degli Oddi, 55, 112;
Matarazzo, historian of the, 58;
described by J. A. Symonds, 59, 60;
beauty of the, 61;
treachery of Grifonetto, 62;
marriage of Lavinia Colonna with Astorre, 63;
massacre of the, 64, 65;
flight of Atalanta, Zenobia and Gianpaolo, 65;
death of Grifonetto, 66, 161, 162;
Gianpaolo, despot of Perugia, 67;
character of Gianpaolo, 68;
death of Gianpaolo, 69;
murder of Gentile and Galeotto, 69;
death of Orazio, 69;
betrayal of Florence by Malatesta, 70;
descendants of the, 70;
Ridolfo, fires the People's Palace, assassinates Pope's
Legate, and is driven out of Perugia, 71;
Perugians recal Ridolfo, 74;
Ridolfo, makes peace with Paul III., 75;
destruction of palaces of, 75;
dying words of Malatesta, 76;
tomb of Bishop Giovanni Andrea, 146;
Benedetto, helps in destruction of Paul III.'s fortress, 151;
Chapel in S. Pietro of the, 172; (note) 255;
tomb of the Volumnii discovered on property of Count, 282.
BARBIANO, Alberigo di, 41.
BAROCCIO, Federigo, fresco by, in Palazzo Pubblico, 119;
picture in S. Lorenzo by, 136;
his love of Perugia, 137.
BARTOLI, Taddeo, 235; 236.
BARTOLI, historian, quoted, 19, 26; 28.
BASTIA, (note) 70; 71.
BATTLE of the Stones, description of, 45.
BECCHERINI, nickname of the common folk in Perugia, 27; 105; 186.
BELLISARIUS, General, 13.
BELLUCCI, Prof., plain of Umbria described by, 3;
private museum of, 282.
BENEDICT XI., Pope, tomb of, 164, 166, 167;
visited by his mother, 165;
death of, 165.
BENOZZO GOZZOLI, 235;
work at Montefalco, 297; 298.
BERNARDINO, S. of Siena, 55; 109;
representation of, in stained glass window in S. Lorenzo, 138;
account of, 206, 207;
portrait of, 207;
favourite bell of, 210;
miracles of, painted by Fiorenzo di Lorenzo, 255.
BERTO DI GIOVANNI, 264.
BETTONA, (note) 34; (note) 70; 116; 291.
BEVIGNATE, Fra. plans Perugian Fountain, (note) 125.
BOCCATI DA CAMERINO, his pictures, 251.
BOLOGNA, 41; 42; 68; 221.
BONAZZI, Luigi, modern historian of Perugia, quoted, 2; 11; 27;
describes lives of exiled nobles, 34; 37; 80; (note) 91;
describes growth of Perugia, 92, 93;
describes feasts of Perugia, 130; 146; 149; 152;
mentions miracles of Abbot of S. Pietro, 168;
describes a day of "Political bacchanalia" in Perugia, 180;
on the Flagellants, 211.
BONFIGLI, Benedetto, (note) 96; 105; 115;
Pietà in S. Pietro by, 171;
in S. Fiorenzo, 182, 232,
the Carmine, S. Maria Nuova, 182,
_Gonfalone_ by, in Pinacoteca, (note) 213,
S. Francesco al Prato, (note) 214;
probable master of Perugino, 219;
Capella del, in Pinacoteca, 237;
account of, 238, 239;
frescoes in Pinacoteca by, (note) 161, 240, 241, 242;
picture of Perugia by, 246;
pictures in Pinacoteca by, 246, 247; 248; 251; 252.
BONIFACE IX., Pope, fortifies monastery of S. Pietro, 35, 170;
arbitrator between Perugians and B. Michelotti, 35;
jealous of B. Michelotti, 37, 39;
Perugians submit to, 41; (note) 73.
BONOMI, Messer, plans Perugian aqueduct, 129.
BOWER, Mr, (note) 293.
BROUSSOLE, M., 171, quoted, 311, 313.
BROWNING, Robert, quoted, 305.
BRUFANI, Hotel, 152.
BRUNAMONTE, Alinda, Perugian poetess, (note) 210; 266;
quoted, 316.
BUFFALMACCO, Buonamico, practical joke on Perugians by, 160, 161.
BYRON, Lord, quoted, 302.
C
CAIUS CESTIUS (Macedonicus), sets fire to Perugia, 10, 91, 194.
CALDORA, General, 49.
CALISCIANA, 52.
CAMBIO, The, (note 2) 190;
frescoes in, 216;
Perugino's portrait in, 218; 224; 225;
description of frescoes in, 226-229.
CAMERINO, 38; 235.
CAMPANO, Gianantonio, his description of B. Fortebraccio, 45;
his account of 'Battle of Stones,' 46.
CANONICA, The, occasional residence of Popes, 25; 26; 28;
description of, 146;
vision of Gregory IX. in, 149.
CANTÙ, Cesare, (note) 20.
CAPORALE, Bartolomeo, pictures by, 248.
CARPACCIO, Vittore, 251.
CASALINA, 40.
CASSINESE, M., 173.
CASTIGLION DEL LAGO, submits to Perugia, 18.
CATHEDRAL, The (see Church of S. Lorenzo), 17; 47;
washed with wine and reconsecrated, 67; 110;
used as a fortress, 112; 135; 204.
CATHERINE, S., of Siena, portrait of, 258.
CHARLES IV., Emperor, 29; 104.
CHARLES, of Anjou, 125; 144.
CHARLEMAGNE, Emperor, 25.
CHIAGIO, river, 3.
CHIUSI, (note) 85;
wedding-ring of the Virgin stolen from, 139, 218; 276; 291;
description of, 310, 311; 314.
CHURCH of S. Agostino, 189;
choir of, designed by Perugino, 190;
picture by scholar of Perugino in, 193; 216; 224.
CHURCH of S. Angelo, account of, 194;
early fresco in, 196.
---- S. Bernardino, built in honour of S. Bernardino, 206;
description of façade of, 208; 210; 213; 238; 239.
---- of the Carmine, 182; (note) 238.
---- of S. Costanzo, 49; 168; 176;
rebuilt by Leo XIII., 177;
byzantine doorway of, 177.
---- S. Domenico, tower of, 91; 97; 163;
account of, 164;
tomb of Benedict IX. by G. Pisano in, 164-167;
work of A. Ducci in, 167;
Gothic window in, 167; 208;
represented in Bonfigli's fresco, 240.
---- S. Ercolano, 95; 125; 154;
account of, 156;
Grifonetto Baglioni killed close by, 161; 162.
---- S. Francesco al Prato, 50; 97; (note) 208;
legend of bell of, 210; 213;
_Gonfalone_ in Sacristy of, 214; 238.
---- S. Fiorenzo, 120; 182; 212;
_Gonfalone_ in, 232; 238; (note 2) 263.
---- S. Lorenzo (Cathedral of Perugia), 39; 44; former church of, 93; 96;
built partly by Lombard workmen, 97; 123; 133;
foundation stone laid of, 135;
description of, 135;
Chapel of S. Bernardino with F. Baroccio's picture in, 136;
window by A. Fiammingo in, 137;
choir and stalls in, 138;
Chapel of the Virgin's ring, 138, 139;
'Miraculous' picture in, 141;
Chapel of baptistery in, 142;
picture by L. Signorelli in, 142;
picture by Perugino in, 143;
urn with ashes of three Popes in, 143;
fragments of tomb by G. Pisano in, 145;
tomb of Bishop Giov. Andrea Baglioni in, 146; 216; 238;
body of S. Ercolano carried to, 246.
---- Madonna della Luce, altar-piece in, 204;
legend of, 206.
---- Maestà delle Volte, (note) 115.
---- S. Maria Nuova, _gonfalone_ in, 182; 238.
---- S. Maria del Popolo, 138.
---- S. Maria dei Servi, 97.
CHURCH, S. Martino, 214;
altar-piece by Giannicola Manni in, 215; (note) 228.
---- the Chiesa Nuova, 201.
---- S. Pietro, 44;
tower of, 91, 170;
becomes a 'Nation-Monument,' (note) 163; 167;
Abbot Pietro Vincioli builds, 168, 169;
first Cathedral of Perugia, 168;
_Pietà_ by Perugino in, by Bonfigli in, 171;
pictures by Eusebio di S. Giorgio, Guido Reni and Vasari in, 171;
pictures by two Alfani, Salimbene and Sassoferrato in, 172;
sacristy in, 172;
Mino da Fiesole's altar-piece in, 172;
description and account of choir, in, 173, 174;
fresco attributed to Giannicola Manni in, 174;
anecdote connected with, 175; 216; 233;
represented in Bonfigli's fresco, 241, 242.
---- S. Severo, built by Camaldolese monks, 182;
fresco by Perugino and Raphael in, 182, 183; 263.
CIATTI, Chronicler, his legend of Noah, 6;
of origin of Griffin in Arms of Perugia, 7; 13;
describes Perugians, 95;
his legend of the Virgin's wedding ring, 140, 141;
his legend of Innocent III.'s ascent into heaven, 143;
quoted, 176, 177; 242;
his legend of S. Ercolano, 245.
CITTÀ DI CASTELLO, 18; 30; 291.
CITTÀ DELLA PIEVE, rebellion of, 19, 20; 85; 218; 291;
birth-place of Perugino, 311;
description of, 311, (note 1) 312; (note) 313.
CIUNILLO, poet of Aquila, (note) 49.
CLEMENT IV., Pope, 23.
CLEMENT VII., Pope, 70; 310.
CLEMENT X., Pope, 76.
CLITUMNUS, river, 300; 302.
CLITUMNUS, The, temple, description of, 300; 302.
COLOMBA, Blessed, 55.
COLONNA, Cardinal, 27.
COMITOLI, Bishop, rebuilds part of S. Domenico, 164; 156.
CONCLAVE, The, Perugians claim invention of, 26.
CONESTABILE, Count, on Etruscan Antiquities, 99; 194; (note) 268; 273.
CONFRATERNITÀ di S. Andrea, its protection of criminals, 212, 213.
CONSTANTINE, General, 13.
CONVENT of S. Giuliana, 100.
---- of Monte Luce, 46; 106;
Paul III.'s visit to nuns of, 107; 108.
---- of Monte Luco, 8; 304.
COPPOLI, Giacomo di Buonconti de', gives houses
on Monteripido to Franciscans, 198.
COSTANZO, S., 24; patron of Perugia, (note) 117; 126; 168;
legend of, 176;
martyrdom of, 177.
CORSO Cavour, historical interest of, 162; 163.
---- Vannucci, 99;
gaiety of, 103; 105; 106; 114; 116; 152; 201; 202; 229; 246.
CORTONA, 218; 291.
CREIGHTON, Dr, Bishop of London, quoted, 211.
CROWE and CAVACASELLE, 236; 266.
CYPRIAN, assassinated by Totila's orders, 13.
D
DAMIANO, Fra, of Bergamo, makes intarsia door in choir of S. Pietro, 174.
DANDOLO, Matteo, Doge of Venice, 70.
DANTE ALIGHIERI, quoted, 22, 144, 183.
DANTI, Vincenzio, makes statue of Julius III., 181.
DENNIS, G., his description of Arch of Augustus, 187, 188; 273; 277;
quoted, 278, 279, 283, 286.
DERUTA, (note) 34; 36; 85;
pottery works at, probably founded by A. Ducci, (note) 208.
DOMINIC, S. (Domenico), canonized at Perugia, 28; 164;
meets S. Francis at Perugia, 197.
DONATI, Signor, catalogue of Etruscan Museum by, 273.
DONATO, Corso, visits Benedict XI. at Perugia, 165.
DUCCI, Agostino (_della Robbia_), (note) 145;
work at S. Domenico, 167;
façade of S. Bernardino by, 208.
E
EGIDIO, Fra Beato, death of, 198;
visited by S. Louis, K. of France, 199;
tomb of, 214, 237.
ELIZABETH, S., Q. of Hungary, canonized at Perugia, 28; 259.
ERCOLANO, S., bishop of Perugia, 13; 24;
(note) 117; 126; 154;
translation of body of, 156;
double procession of, 159;
proverb about, 159;
Buffalmacco's practical joke on picture of, 160; 242;
legend of, 245; 246.
ETRUSCANS, The, 4; 94;
monkish legends of, 6;
Perugia one of their chief cities, 8;
victory of Fabius over, 9; merged in the Romans, 11;
walls of, 86, 88, 188;
account of, 268, 271, 272;
their influence on the Romans, 275;
their custom of visiting tombs at night, 285;
their use of the Medusa, (note 3) 286.
EUSEBIO DI S. GIORGIO, picture in S. Pietro by, 171; 234;
(note) 259; 262;
account of, (note 1) 263.
F
FABIUS MAXIMUS, defeats the Etruscans, 9.
FABRETTI, chronicles of, 43; 97; 113; 120; 123.
FANTI, General Manfredi, takes Perugia in 1860, 80.
FARNESE (Pope Paul III.), 73.
FARNESE, Pier-Luigi, 73.
FERGUSSON, J., describes S. Angelo, 194.
FERONIA, Goddess, 106.
FIAMMINGO, Arrigo, window in S. Lorenzo by, 137.
FIORENZO DI LORENZO, fresco in Palazzo Pubblico by, 119; 251;
account of, 252, 255; 262.
FLAGELLANTS, The, songs of, 159;
religious movement of, 211;
legend of, 212.
FLAMINIAN way, site of, 299.
FLORENCE, accepts Perugia's help, 22; 29; 30; 47;
Malatesta Baglioni betrays, 70; 160; 231; 257.
FOLIGNO, 18;
skirmishes with Perugia, 20; 85; 235; 291;
description of, 295, 296; 297; 299; 300.
FONTIGNANO, Perugino dies at, 223;
burial at, (note) 224.
FORTEBRACCIO, Braccio, 31; 40;
joins Italian company of S. George, 41;
rivalry with Attendolo Sforza, 42;
ambition of, 42;
attempts to take Perugia, 43;
battle of Sant' Egideo, 43;
despot of Perugia, 44;
personality of, 45;
Martin V.'s jealousy of, 47;
siege of Aquila by, 48;
death of, 49;
hints of Sforza's treachery in Ciunillo's poem towards, (note) 49;
consternation in Perugia at death of, 50;
Niccolò Piccinino follower of, 51; (note) 73; (note) 100;
Porta S. Angelo built by, 197; 214; (note) 236;
_loggia_ of, in Bonfigli's fresco, 246.
----, Niccolò, brings B. Fortebraccio's bones to Perugia, 49.
FORTRESS, The, of Paul III., foundation of, 75; 79; 80; 99;
history of, 151, 152;
description of, by A. Trollope, 152, 153; 154.
FOUNTAIN, The, 109; 111;
description of, 125, 126;
laws for preservation of, 130.
FRANCIS, S., of Assisi, imprisoned in Perugia, 19;
canonized in Perugia, 28; 98;
appears to Gregory IX., 149;
Honorius III. visits, 197;
meets S. Dominic in Perugia, 197; 199; 206; 233; 304.
FREDERIC, Emperor, Barbarossa, (note) 292.
FREDERIC II., Emperor, 20.
FREEMAN, Professor, quoted, 109.
FROLLIERI, Girolamo, (note) 8;
account of Gianpaolo's character, 67, 68; 76.
G
GALLERY, National, The English, picture by Paolo
Uccello in, (note) 44; 267.
GATES of Perugia, Etruscan, 88; 99.
GENTILE DA FABRIANO, 235.
GIACOMO, Messer, di Servadio, one of the architects
of Palazzo Pubblico, 116.
GIOTTO, 235.
GIOVANELLO DI BENVENUTO, plans Palazzo Pubblico, 116.
GOLDONI, Carlo, describes the Virgin's ring, (note) 140;
as a child acts in Palazzo Gallenga, (note) 187.
GONFALONI, The, by Bonfigli, in S. Maria Nuova, 182, 238;
in S. Fiorenzo, 182, 232;
in Pinacoteca, (note) 213, 238;
in S. Francesco al Prato, 214, 238;
in S. Lorenzo, 238;
in the Carmine, (note) 238;
account of, 231.
GRAZIANI, chronicler, 50.
GREECE, influence on Etruscan art of, 271.
GREGOROVIUS, Ferdinand, quoted, 21; (note) 146.
GREGORY IX., Pope, visits Perugia, 27;
canonizes S. Francis of Assisi, S. Domenic and
S. Elizabeth of Hungary, 28;
his vision of S. Francis, 149.
GREGORY XI., Pope, excommunicates Perugians, 31; 212.
GRIFFIN, origin of, on Perugia's arms, 7, 8.
GUADABASSI, Count, Etruscan collection of, 279.
GUALDO, 22; 183; 235.
GUBBIO, 18; 38; (note) 85; (note 2) 93; 235; 265; 291;
description of, 292.
GUCCI, _see_ Ducci.
GUIDALOTTI, Abbot, of S. Pietro, his plot against B. Michelotti, 38, 39;
his flight from Perugia, 40;
he destroys _campanile_ of S. Pietro, 170.
H
HAWKWOOD, Sir John, (note) 35; 119; 120;
called in by Abbot of Mommaggiore, 185; 186.
HONORIUS III., pope, election of, 26;
attempts to enforce Papal authority in Perugia, 27; 197.
I
INNOCENT III., Pope, 25;
first _padrone_ of Perugia, 26; 29; 51;
legend of his ascent into heaven, 143; 144; 145; 146.
INNOCENT VIII., Pope, 113.
J
JAMESON, Mrs, 207.
JANUS, 6.
JESUITS, The, chief power in Perugia falls to, 76.
JOHN XXI., Pope, 24.
JOHN XXIII., Pope, 42.
JULIUS II., Pope, visits Gianpaolo Baglioni, 68; 69.
JULIUS III., Pope, 79;
statue of, 178;
policy towards Perugians of, 180; 181; 183.
JUNO, image of, 10.
L
LADISLAUS, King, of Naples, connection with Perugia, 42.
LASCHE, 21; 24; 95; 160.
LEFÈVRE, M. André, quoted, 268; (note) 272; 273.
LEO, Emperor, decree against image worship, 15.
LEO X., Pope, plots against Gianpaolo Baglioni, 69.
LIPPI, Fra Filippo, 163; 235; 240;
dies at Spoleto, 305.
LOMBARDS, The, occupation of Perugia by, 14;
employed in building Palazzo Pubblico at Perugia, 97.
LOUIS, IX., S., King of France, visits Fra Egidio
at Perugia, (note) 117; 199; 200.
LOUIS, S., Bishop of Toulouse, door of Palazzo Pubblico
at Perugia dedicated to, 116;
patron saint of Perugia and of Palazzo _dei
Priori_, (note) 117; 126; 200;
fresco of, by Bonfigli, 240, 241, 242.
LUPATELLI, A., guide-book of Perugian art, 98; (note) 230.
M
MACHIAVELLI, N., comments on action of the Baglioni, 69.
MALATESTA, Carlo, fighting for the Perugians, is taken prisoner
by Braccio Fortebraccio, 43.
MALATESTA, Galeazzo, 43; (note) 44.
MANNI, Giannicola, 142; 174;
picture in S. Martino by, 215;
paints chapel in the Cambio, 228; (note) 263;
pictures in Pinacoteca by, 264.
MANTEGNA, Andrea, picture at Foligno, 296.
MARENGO, battle of, 79.
MARGARITONE D'AREZZO, 237.
MARIOTTI, Annibale, 21; (note) 84; 86; (note 1) 93;
topography of Perugia, 99; 107; 118; (note) 126; 144;
describes visit of Benedict XI.'s mother to Perugia, 165;
quoted, 180; 190;
Honorius III. and S. Francis of Assisi, 197; 208;
notes on Perugino, 224; 229; 236;
character of Bonfigli's wife, 238; 239;
deplores bad condition of Bonfigli's pictures, 240; 262;
quoted, 265.
MARIOTTO, Bernardino di, pictures by, 248.
MARTIN IV., Pope, excommunicates Perugians, 21; 143;
dies of surfeit of eels in Perugia, 144;
tomb destroyed of, 145.
MARTIN V., Pope, sends for Fortebraccio to Florence, 47, 48;
his wars with Fortebraccio, refuses him Christian burial, 49;
enters Perugia as Lord, 51; (note) 73.
MASSA, birth-place of S. Bernardino, 206.
MATARAZZO, Francesco, describes miserable condition of Perugia, 56;
scholar of Perugia, 58;
chronicles of, 59;
his description of Astorre Baglioni (translated by J. A. Symonds), 60;
his admiration of the Baglioni, 61; 63; 64; (notes 3 and 4), 65;
describes Grifonetto Baglioni's death (translated by J. A. S.), 66,
67; 225; (note) 255.
MATTEO DA SIENA, 235.
MATURANZIO, _see_ Matarazzo.
MAURITIUS, Duke, treachery of, 15.
MELANZIO, Francesco, work at Montefalco, (note) 297; 298; 299.
MICHELOTTI, B., 31; 35; 37; 38; 51;
account of, 36;
murder of, 39.
MOMMAGGIORE, Abbot, 135; 145;
his despotism, 30, 184, 187.
N
NAPOLEON, Emperor (Bonaparte), 104; 118; 167; 216; (note 2) 222;
occupies Perugia, 79;
robs Perugia of her masterpieces, (note) 91.
NARNI, 8; 293; 306;
description of, 305.
NAR, river, 308; 311.
NELLI, Ottaviano, 267; 298;
Masterpiece at Gubbio, 295.
NERI DI BICCI, 163.
NICHOLAS IV., Pope, (note) 309.
NOAH, legend of, 6.
NOCERA, 22; 183.
O
OCTAVIUS CÆSAR, (Augustus), besieges Perugia, 10.
ODDI, the degli, 31; 33; (note) 34; 54; 55; 59; 255;
expelled from Perugia by the Baglioni, 56.
ORATORY of S. Bernardino, _see_ Church.
ORSINI, Bertolda, marries B. Michelotti, 38.
ORSINI, Signor, guide-book of Perugia by, 98; 247.
ORVIETO, (note) 85; 224; 291;
description of, 309, 310.
OTTO I., Emperor, confirms donation of Perugia to the Papacy, 25.
OTTO III., Emperor, 168.
OXFORD, (note) 100; 104.
P
PALACE of Justice, 22.
PALAZZO Baldeschi, 23, (note) 235.
---- Baglioni, Palace of Grifonetto, 61.
---- Bracceschi, 163; (note) 235.
---- (or Palace of) Capitano del Popolo, 19; (note) 100.
---- Gallenga, (note) 187.
---- Guidalotti, 39.
PALAZZO Oddi, degli, (note) 34; 201.
---- Pubblico (also called _dei Priori_ and _del Podestà_), 17; 44;
67; 72; 97; 98; 109; 111; (note) 229; (note) 268;
bell-tower of, (note 1) 93;
description of, 113, 114;
first architects employed on, 116;
outer staircase and principal door of, 117, 118;
_Sala del Malconsiglio_ in, 119;
prisons of, 120;
barbarous butchery in, 123;
prisoners liberated "_pro amore Dei_" from, 124;
Pinacoteca in, (note) 230;
representation of, in Bonfigli's fresco, 246.
PAUL III., Pope, 71; 72; 75; 79; (note) 91;
110; 178; 179; 180; (note) 222; 310;
builds the _Rocca Paolina_ (or fortress) on the
site of the Baglioni houses, 70, 75;
excommunicates the Perugians, 73;
conquers Perugia, 75, 76;
fortress destroyed of, 80;
visits convent of Monte Luce, 107;
description of fortress of, 151, 152;
A. Trollope's account of, 152, 153, 154;
destroys top of campanile of S. Domenico, 164.
PEPIN, King of France, cedes Perugia to the Holy See, 25.
PERUGIA, 2; 8; 23; 24;
Prof. Bellucci on, 3;
a city of the Etruscan league, 4;
legendary history of, 6;
origin of griffin in city arms, 7;
conquered by Octavius, 9;
Caius Cestius sets fire to, Octavius rebuilds, 10;
taken by Belisarius, 12;
ruled alternately by Lombards and Goths, 14, 15;
saved by intercession of S. Zacharius, 16;
early history of, 17;
dominion extended over Umbria, 18;
contests with Assisi, Città della Pieve and Foligno, 19, 20;
victory of Arezzo over, 21;
defeats Siena, 22;
given to Holy See by Pepin, by Charlemagne and by Otto I., 25;
Innocent III. dies and Honorius III. is elected in, 26;
internecine broils, 27;
Gregory IX. canonizes S. Francis, S. Dominic and S. Elizabeth in, 28;
becomes one of the _Tre Communi_, 29;
rebels against Papal authority, 30;
acknowledges dominion of Urban VI., 31; 32;
struggle between nobles and people, 33; (note) 34;
Michelotti enters, 36; 37;
Gian Galeazzo, Duke of Milan, Lord of, 44;
Braccio Fortebraccio captures, 42;
is acclaimed Lord of, 41;
'Battle of the Stones' in, 45; 47; 48;
Braccio Fortebraccio's bones brought to, 49, 50;
Martin V. enters, 51; 52; (note) 55; 56;
Matarazzo born in, 58; 59; 60; 61; 62;
reception of Lavinia Orsini in, 63; 64;
mournful aspect of, 67; 68; 69;
Malatesta Baglioni dies in, 70;
Paul III. enters, 71, 72;
lays interdicts on, 73; 75;
Jesuits ruin, 76;
annexed to French Empire, 79; 80; 81; 82; 83;
topographical position of, 84;
view from, 85;
unstable soil of, 86;
Etruscan walls of, 88; 91;
towers of, 93;
doorways in, 95; 96; 97;
guide-books to, 98;
gates of, 99; 100; 103;
University of, 104; 105;
walks round, 106; 109; 112; 113; 116; 119;
_lumieri_ at, 123;
prisons in, 124; 126;
fountain in, 129, 130, 135;
Chapel of S. Bernardino in, 136;
Baroccio paints in, 137; 138;
wedding-ring of Virgin Mary, in S. Lorenzo in, 139, 140, 141; 142;
death of Martin IV. in, 144;
Canonica in, 146; 149;
fortress of Paul III. at, 151, 152, 153, 154;
S. Ercolano, Saint of, 156, 159; 161; 162; (note) 163; 164;
Benedict XI. dies at, 165, 166; 167; 168; 171; 175;
miracles of S. Costanzo in, 176, 177; 181;
Church of Camaldolese monks in, 182;
Dante on, 183;
Abbot Mommaggiore builds fortresses in, 184;
is driven out of, 186;
Arch of Augustus in (described by Dennis), 187; 189; 190; 193;
meeting of S. Francis and S. Dominic in, 197; 199; (note) 201;
Ducci's work at, 208, 210;
rise of Flagellants in, 211, 212; 214;
S. Martino in, 215;
Perugino's work at, 216, 217; 218;
Perugino comes to, 219;
Manni's work at, 228;
picture gallery in, 230;
_gonfaloni_ (banners) in, 231, 232;
pictures in gallery of, 233, 234, 235, 236, 237;
Bonfigli's work in, 238, 240, 241, 242, 245, 251; (note) 255;
Fra Angelico visits, 257; 260;
Perugino's pictures in gallery at, 259, 264;
Pinturicchio's pictures in gallery at, 260, 261;
Lo Spagna's picture in gallery at, 262;
Raphael's pictures in, 265;
Academy of, founded, 265; 266;
Museum of, 261, 281;
tomb of the Volumnii near, 282; 290; 291;
road to Gubbio from, 292; 294; 295; 300; 304; 306; 315.
PERUGINO, Pietro, (Vannucci) 60; 85; (note 2) 96; 115;
_Sposalizio_ by, 138, 190, 193; 142;
picture in S. Lorenzo by, (note) 143;
_Pietà_ in S. Pietro by, 171;
"Assumption" by, 172; 173;
fresco in S. Severo by, 182, 183;
designs choir of S. Agostino, 190; 198;
house of, 202, 203, 204; 214; 216;
Vasari's accusations against, 217;
his portrait in the Cambio, 218;
his influence on Raphael, 218;
birth of, 219;
Bonfigli probably first master of, 219;
goes to Florence, 220;
pupil of Verrocchio, 220;
meets Leonardo da Vinci, 220;
paints in Sistine Chapel, 221;
returns to Perugia, 222;
lawsuit with Michelangelo, 223;
his death, 223, (note) 224;
paints in the Cambio, 225-228; 229; 239; 252; 256; 258;
his work in the Pinacoteca, 259, 260, 261; 262; (note) 263;
"Nativity" by, 264; 296;
his birth-place, 311;
picture at Città della Pieve by, (note 2) 312; 313; 315; 316.
PIAZZA degli Aratri, fight in, 113.
---- d'Armi, cattle fair held in the, 100; 152.
---- Emanuele, 152.
---- di S. Ercolano, 160.
---- Danti, (note) 178.
---- della Giustizia, 206;
origin of name, 213; 214.
---- Grimani, 187; 189.
---- di S. Lorenzo, 99;
historical interest of, 109, 110;
Fountain in, 125.
---- Morlacchi, 146.
---- di Paglia, 178.
---- del Pallone, 152.
PIAZZA del Papa, 178; 181.
---- Sopramuro, 100; 152.
PICCININO, Niccolò, 31;
follower of B. Fortebraccio, 51;
account of, 52; 281.
PIETRO, S., Vincioli, 168;
miracles of, 169;
builds Church of S. Pietro, 169.
PINACOTECA, The, (Palazzo Pubblico), (note) 115;
(note) 137; (note) 229; (note) 230;
description of pictures in, 230-266.
PINTURICCHIO (B. di Betto), 248;
account of, 260, 261; 265;
fresco at Spello by, 294.
PISANO, Giovanni, 125; 126; 145;
designs S. Domenico, 164;
tomb of Benedict XI. by, 166.
---- Niccola, 98; 103; 125; 126.
PIUS IX., Pope, 79.
PLENARIO, Frate, plans the aqueduct of Perugia, 129.
POLVESE, island of, submits to Perugia, 18.
PORTA, Augusta, or Arch of Augustus, 88;
description of, by G. Dennis, 187; 188; 189; 214.
---- Eburnea, Baglioni houses near, 63; 88; 113.
---- Mandola, 88.
---- Marzia, 88;
one of the old Etruscan gates, used by San Gallo as
a decoration to the fortress, 154, 155.
---- Romana, 167.
---- Sole, 135; 182; 183;
incident connected with, 184; 186; 187.
---- S., Agata, (note) 14.
---- S., Angelo, 99; 106; 185; 196; 197.
---- S., Antonio, 106; 184; 186.
---- San Carlo, Baglioni houses near, 63.
---- S., Ercolano, 106; 161.
---- S., Pietro, 99; 135; 161; 177; (note 1) 208.
---- Susanna, 88; 99; 106; 201; 241.
---- Veneris, Roman gate at Spello, (note) 297.
PREFETTURA, The, 80; 152.
R
RANIERE, Fra, vision of, 211, 212.
RAPHAEL, (Sanzio), Immortalizes Astorre Baglioni in two pictures, 60; 138;
paints "Entombment" for Atalanta Baglioni, 161; 173;
fresco in S. Severo, 182, 183, 214; 231; 234; 235, 248;
pictures ascribed to, 262, 263; 264; 300.
RASPANTI, nickname of rich burghers in Perugia, 27; 35;
rally round B. Michelotti, 36;
assassinate Pandolfo and Pellini Baglioni, 37; 41; 42; 184; 186.
RATCHIS, King, besieges Perugia, 15, 16.
RAVENNA, Exarch of, 15.
RENI, Guido, picture in S. Pietro by, 171.
RING, The Wedding, of the Virgin, legend about, 139, 140; 141; 204.
ROBERT, King, of Naples, (note) 117.
ROBBIA, della, 176.
RIO, A. F., 231.
ROME, 8; 9; 10; 11; 12; 13; 17;
submits to B. Fortebraccio, 44.
ROSCETTI, Cesarino, designs façade of Madonna della Luce, 204.
ROSSI, Adamo, 118; (note) 229.
---- SCOTTI, Count, guide-book of Perugia by, 98.
RUMOHR, Ch. von, (note) 227.
S
SALIMBENE, Ventura, 172.
SANT' Egideo, battle of, 43; (note) 44.
SANTI, Giovanni, quoted, 220.
SASSOFERRATO, 172.
SCHMID, Colonel, enters Perugia, 80.
SEXTUS IV., Pope, (note) 93.
SFORZA, Attendolo, rival of B. Fortebraccio, 42; (note) 49.
SFORZA, Francesco, (note) 42; (note) 49;
rival of N. Piccinino, 51; 52.
SIENA, 18; 29; 186; 207; 236.
SIENESE, defeated by Perugians, 22.
SIEPI, guide-book of Perugia, 182; 204; 208; (note) 215.
SINIBALDO IBI, 234.
SISMONDI, S. L. de, 42; 43.
SPAGNA, Lo, 234; 265; 267; (note) 300; 305.
SPELLO, 51; 71; 85; 94; 265; 291;
description of, 294; 300.
SPOLETO, 16; 18; 79; 85; 177; 262; 265; 291; 299;
description of, 302-305.
STEFANO DA BERGAMO, choir in S. Pietro by, 173.
STILLMAN, Mr, (note) 229.
SYMONDS, J. A., 33;
history of Baglioni by, 59-70.
T
TADDEO BARTOLI, 235; 236.
TAINE, H., quoted, 82; 230; 257, 290.
TEMPLE, of Clitumnus, description of, 300, 201;
Byron's stanzas on, 302.
TERNI, 291.
THEODERIC, Emperor, citadel at Spoleto of, 304.
THOMAS, S. Aquinas, 104; 144.
TIBER, river, 3; 25; 28; 43; 169; 292; 295.
TIBERIO D'ASSISI, 176; 234.
TITIAN, 137; 231.
TODI, 18; 85.
TOMMASO D'ARCANGELO, (note) 236.
TORGIANO, 3; (note) 70; 291.
TORRE di S. Manno, site of Etruscan tomb, 213.
---- degli Scirri, (note 1) 93;
last of Perugia's towers, 204.
TORRITA, battle of, 22.
TOTILA, besieges Perugia, 12;
takes Perugia, 13; 159;
Bonfigli's fresco of siege by, 242.
TOWERS of Perugia, marked feature in olden days, 93.
TRASIMENE, lake, hatchet heads of jade found near, 3; 18; (note) 21; 24.
TREVI, 85; 291;
description of, 299, 300; 313.
TROLLOPE, Adolphus, description of Paul III.'s fortress by, 152, 153.
U
UBALDO, S., 159;
patron of Gubbio, 292.
UNIVERSITY, of Perugia, supposed origin of the, (note) 12; 103;
account of the, 104;
Etruscan museum in the, (note) 267; (note) 230; (note) 268.
URBAN IV., Pope, 143; 144; 184.
URBAN V., Pope, 30.
URBAN VI., Pope, legend of white dove, 31.
URBAN VIII., Pope, 104.
URBINO, 38; 235.
V
VARANO, Nicolina da, wife of B. Fortebraccio, 48.
VASARI, Giorgio, 125;
quoted, 160;
pictures in S. Pietro by, 171; 172; 203;
accusations against Perugino by, 217; 223;
quoted, 219; 224;
Vasari on L'Ingegno, (note) 227; 236; 259; 261; 262.
VELASQUEZ, pictures ascribed to at Perugia, (note) 235.
VENICE, 231.
VERMIGLIOLI, Giov. Battista, writes on Etruscan
antiquities, 99; (note) 126; 273; (note) 284.
VERROCCHIO, Andrea, 220.
VIA Bartolo, staircase in, 89;
---- Bontempi, 182.
---- della Cuparella, 106.
---- del Commercio, 202.
---- della Conca, 214.
---- della Gabbia, 120; 123; (note) 124.
---- Longara, 193.
---- della Pera, 269.
---- Piscinello, 201.
---- dei Priori, (note) 14; (note) 34; 201; 204; 229.
---- di San Francesco, 214.
---- delle Stalle, 39.
---- Vecchia, (note) 92; 215.
---- del Verzaro, (note) 115.
VILLANI, G., quoted 112;
describes death of Benedict XI., 165.
VISCONTI, Gian Galeazzo, 37;
lord of Perugia, 41.
VITERBO, 30.
VOLUMNII, Tomb of the, description of, 282-289.
VULCAN, Temple of, 10.
W
WITIGIS, King, 13.
Z
ZACCHARIAS, Pope, S., 15;
saves Perugia, 16.
ZUCCHERI, The, 137.
PRINTED BY
TURNBULL AND SPEARS,
EDINBURGH
FOOTNOTES:
[1] One of the most common explanations of the ship on Etruscan coins
is that these people were the first to bring ships to Italy.
[2] Umbria was originally incorporated in the province of Tuscany.
[3] Among the precious objects kept at the Palazzo Pubblico which
are described by Frollieri (see Arch. Storico, v. 16 part ii.) are
two talons of the griffin, whose capture we read of in Ciatti. These
had been given to the general of the Franciscan order by the king of
France, and in 1453 he handed the talons over to the city of Perugia.
[4] Dare we presume that the University of Perugia can trace its
origin to this period? We certainly are told that the Roman youth were
sent here in early days to be instructed in the art of augury.
[5] There is scarcely any trace of the Lombard occupation left in the
architecture of Perugia with the exception of the porch over the door
of S. Agata, in the Via dei Priori.
[6] The law obliging priests to dress in black was only made after
the fourteenth century. In 1203 a certain priest in his will left his
clothes to different friends, and among them there was nothing black
except his hat. See Cantù, chap. lxiv.
[7] _Lasche_--a small fish corresponding to our dace, and abundant
in the Lake of Trasimene. The Perugians were celebrated for their
greediness in old days, and their strong affection for this particular
fish became a by-word throughout all Italy, and is constantly alluded
to in Umbrian chronicles. The tabby cats probably alluded to the
emblem of the _Raspanti_: a cat.
[8] Perugia had a close connection with Florence, whom she imitated in
many ways. The Florentines were careful to keep upon good terms with
Perugia, and many were the embassies exchanged by the two towns. We
even hear that, when the Guelph party were exiled from Florence, the
Perugians, ever faithful to the Lion of the Guelphs, enabled them to
re-enter their city. Yet it must in truth be added, that the two towns
had several points of difference, and that they occasionally met on
the field of battle as well as in the council chamber.
[9] No cardinal was allowed to enter Perugia's gates before he had
arrived at a distinct understanding with the chancellor that he came
as friend and well-wisher to the city, and not as legate with powers
to infringe on the rights of the citizens.
[10] For an account of his death, see chap. v. p. 143.
[11] _Beccherini_: probably derived from _beccaio_ (butcher) or
_beccheria_ (slaughter-house), which place Perugia greatly resembled
at times.
[12] See page 149.
[13] Some say that the bull was found reposing in the hands of S.
Ercolano's statue, as nobody had courage enough to present it to the
citizens.
[14] On all the lower hills and in the plains around Perugia the
nobles had their strongholds--great walled citadels of bricks and
mortar, like the nests of prehistoric birds. Deruta was one of these,
belonging to the Baglioni in early times: Bettona, another (where some
descendants of the Baglioni still live in a large red villa). In the
Palazzo degli Oddi--Via dei Priori--some well-kept canvasses still
show what the nests of the Oddi looked like, and also their position.
[15] Sir John Hawkwood and his English soldiers became a scourge in
Umbria at this period.
[16] Pandolfo was the first of the Baglioni who openly attempted to
get power in his native town.
[17] His son, Francesco Sforza, was afterwards Duke of Milan.
[18] Paolo Uccello's splendid picture in our National Gallery is
always said to represent the battle of S. Egidio. We have however no
proof that the youth with yellow hair is indeed, as hitherto reported,
a portrait of Galeazzo Malatesta.
[19] It was believed by some that Braccio's success depended on a
kindly spirit imprisoned in a crystal who gave him good council, and
brought him luck.
[20] A poet of Aquila, Ciunillo, points to a more tragic cause of
Braccio's death. We are given to understand that young Francesco
Sforza (the son of Braccio's great rival Attendolo Sforza, who had met
his death a few months previously whilst crossing the river Pescara on
his way to relieve Aquila) gave the surgeon's arm a slight nudge as he
was cleaning the wound, and drove the sharp instrument straight into
Braccio's brain. Nothing that we know of Francesco Sforza's character
(he was afterwards Duke of Milan) would lead us to suppose him capable
of such a deed.
[21] Date of his birth uncertain (1386?).
[22] While Alexander VI., the Borgia Pope, was staying at Perugia in
the summer of 1495, he made an effort to rid the Church of the whole
Baglioni family at one stroke, but to gather at once all its members
into his net required some diplomacy. With Borgia cunning he called to
him Guido, the head of the clan, and expressed a great desire to see,
during his stay in the city, a joust or tournament, politely implying
that if organised by the illustrious house of Baglioni it must surely
be a magnificent success. Guido, as shrewd and crafty as any of his
family, replied that he was ready to do anything to gratify the Pope,
and that he could think of nothing more likely to be acceptable and
pleasing to His Holiness than to see the people of Perugia fully armed
and equipped for battle, with the _condottieri_ of the Baglioni house
and their retainers ready for instant combat. Guido's covert threat
was taken with a smile, but very soon afterwards Alexander left for
Rome, and spoke no more of tournaments.
[23] The well-known scholar, Francesco Matarazzo, was born at Perugia
in 1443, studied there, married, and died there in 1518. It has been
doubted whether he really was the author of the marvellous chronicle
of the deeds of the Baglioni, but there is nothing to disprove this;
the dates coincide, and the chronicle is always included in the list
of his life-works.
[24] The Baglioni are rarely mentioned without the title of
_Magnifico_ being added to their name. "I Magnifici Baglioni"
exclaimed a Perugian of the present day, "_I Magnifici Birbanti_" (The
magnificent scoundrels) were for them a fitter title!
[25] See John Addington Symonds, "Sketches in Italy."
[26] "Both the one and the other appeared to be like two angels of
Paradise."
[27] Two lions had been given to Gianpaolo and Astorre by the
Florentines in recognition of services rendered for them against the
Pisans. A third was kept by Grifonetto.
[28] "Unhappy Astorre, dying like a poltroon."
[29] "Have no fear, Gismondo, my brother."
[30] "Simonetto might have lived," sighs Matarazzo, "but his great
courage killed him, for he scorned to flee." "Indomitusque Simon" had
been written of him, and as the citizens drew near to look the last on
these young brothers, they told each other that even now, struck down
by so cruel a fate, Simonetto appeared still unvanquished and untamed.
[31] "Now my time is come." Matarazzo tells us that Guido was a
fatalist ("era homo che credeva al destenato sempre," p. 118).
[32] "Here his lordship received upon his noble person so many wounds
that he stretched his graceful limbs upon the earth."
[33] The scholar, Francesco Matarazzo, went, as a matter of fact, to
Greece in his youth in order to copy passages from the Greek classics.
It is therefore possible that he acquired his love of the human form
actually in Hellas.
[34] "Everything," he says, "seemed darkened and full of tears; all
the servants wept, and the doors and the rooms, and every house of the
other members of the Baglioni were all like the palls of the dead.
And throughout the city there was no soul who played or sang; and few
there were who smiled."
[35] See Archivio Storico, vol. xvi. part ii. page 437.
[36] John Addington Symonds' "Sketches in Italy," p. 83.
[37] John Addington Symonds, "Life of Michelangelo," vol. i. p.
184-185.
[38] The name is still common in Perugia and owned by some of the best
families in the place, and the splendid villas near Bettona, Torgiano,
and Bastia are all inhabited by people of the mighty name of Baglioni.
[39] By the treaty concluded with Martin V. (1424) after
Fortebraccio's death, Perugia was absolved from every tax not in force
during the time of Boniface IX., and Paul had accepted this treaty on
his accession.
[40] The place where this great crucifix stood (the cross itself
is hidden by a window) can still be seen on the south side of the
Duomo, and every night a lamp is burned above it in commemoration of
that fantastic ceremony. How little probably does the _custode_, who
strikes the match, guess for what purpose he does so. No doubt he
imagines that he is lighting up to make the street below more clear
for passers-by.
[41] This immense and extraordinary building has been fully described
in another place (see chap. vi.). Plate, p. 77, and map will explain
how powerful was the position that it held, and how well calculated it
was to strike terror into the minds of the citizens. But according to
one authority the Latin inscription quoted above was never written on
its walls.
[42] See "Archivio Storico Italiano," vol. xvi., part ii. p. 443.
[43] The topographical position of Perugia distinguished her in
very early times. "It is believed," says Mariotti, "that the _Via
Cassia_, which led from Rome to Chiusi, passed by Perugia, or rather
the _Via Vajentana_, which was one of the ancient military roads
passing through Tuscany. Other writers have placed Perugia on the _Via
Aurelia_. She had beside the principal military roads, several others
which served her for communication with the neighbouring Etruscan
cities, and it is most likely that modern roads leading to Chiusi,
Orvieto, Gubbio, &c., preserve many parts of the old roads."--_See
Mariotti_, vol. i. p. 9.
[44] Even after the Perugians had ceased to fight among themselves,
their unhappy churches and palaces were battered about. "That wind of
the desert," says Bonazzi, "that simoom of Pontifical dominion did
not pass over our city in vain." Paul III., in building his fortress,
did infinite damage to the south of the old town; and the work of
destruction, as far as the gems of painting go, was completed by
Napoleon Bonaparte, whose raids among the masterpieces of Perugia were
quite imperial in their extravagance.
[45] Bonazzi says that the present Via Vecchia was one of the very
earliest of the streets, and that people have tramped up and down it
for at least twenty-five hundred years.
[46] One historian says that there were as many as a hundred towers,
but the more prudent Mariotti will only allow of forty-two. Only
one or two remain, yet in old days they, like the city walls, were
most carefully preserved, and it appears that Sextus IV. "fulminated
excommunications and fined by a fine of fifty ducats any person who
dared to pull down a tower." Of those which remain the Torre degli
Scirri at Porta Susanna is the most conspicuous. The bell tower of the
Palazzo Pubblico is another; and in many of the streets one can trace
their mutilated trunks between the house walls.
[47] These graceful arches have been almost everywhere bricked up and
replaced by square window posts, perhaps because it was easier to
fit glass into a square than into an arch. In Gubbio and some of the
smaller Umbrian towns the arched window has in many houses been left
untouched.
[48] In old days the Perugians actually kept a caged lion in their
public palace, so Ciatti was probably quite correct as far as this
first statement is concerned.
[49] Ciatti was neither fair nor true to the women of the town.
The Madonnas of Bonfigli and Perugino disprove his testimony in
the sixteenth century even as our own eyes contradict it in the
nineteenth. We have only to go to mass in S. Lorenzo to realise the
simple grace of the young Umbrian peasant girls, and in some of her
palaces we may have the happiness of seeing some of the fairest women,
and certainly the most elegant, of modern Italy.
[50] This square is one of the most charming points in the city. In
old days it was a very disreputable and untidy suburban square or
thoroughfare. The last witch burned in Perugia was burned in this
place. All the refuse of the city was cast out upon it. In this way,
and upheld by the first Etruscan wall, an artificial space of flat
land was procured which the houses to the east of the piazza now
occupy, but these were always threatened by destruction as the soil
below them was constantly giving way, and one of Fortebraccio's great
works was the bolstering up of these houses with strong arches and
walls from below. The reason of the name of the square is that its
pavement actually covers the Etruscan wall. It is a beautiful and
picturesque place, full of fine detail. The buildings of the old
University (1483) have almost an echo of Oxford in their square window
frames; the palace of the _Capitano del Popolo_ has a grand door in
pietra serena with the figure of Justice carved above it.
[51] It is difficult to reconstruct these earlier buildings, which
have almost entirely vanished with time and different fires, but they
lay more to the west of the piazza, and formed a fine group, with a
great flight of steps leading up to them from the square. The church
of the Maestà delle Volte belonged to them; also the exquisite little
arch which is left standing alone at the head of the Via del Verzaro.
For an accurate idea of the first plan of the buildings in the piazza
it would be well to look at a picture in the Pinacoteca, which hangs
in the small room out of the _Sala di Mariotto_.
[52] All the emblematic heraldry of the city may be followed on
this big doorway. The three patron saints of the city, S. Ercolano
(Herculanus), S. Costanzo, and S. Louis of Toulouse stand in the
centre. The last of these was the son of Charles II. of Naples, and a
great grandson of Louis IX. of France. The Perugians, who were always
strong Guelphs, chose him as their patron saint when Robert I. King
of Naples, and brother of Louis, took arms against the Ghibellines at
Genoa. S. Louis was also the particular patron of the Palace of the
_Priori_. The two lions who support the pillars of the doorway are
symbols of the Guelph cause.
[53] It is said that Fiorenzo painted this fresco to commemorate the
fact that he had been himself a _Priore_ in 1472.
[54] We would point out that, as far as prisons are concerned, the
nineteenth century has certainly improved in cleanliness and decency
upon its predecessors. We visited the dungeons in the _Via della
Gabbia_, one bitter winter afternoon, and left them shuddering. The
following day we were taken through the wards of the unromantic modern
building which stands--a veritable eyesore to the artist--on the
southern slope of the city. Civilisation has brought great good in
certain things, if not more beauty for humanity. The modern prisons
of Perugia are given over to the care of Belgian nuns. There seemed
to be a scent of freshest lavender in the long cool rooms where the
prisoners sleep and work, and we left them we may almost say with
comfort, or, at least, with far happier feelings than those which had
saddened us the night before in the gruesome cells of the _Palazzo
Pubblico_.
[55] Fra Bevignate was a Sylvestrian monk. Pascoli says that he died
in 1350, at the age of ninety-five, in which case he was but a youth
when he designed the fountain.
[56] For full account of the fountain, see Mariotti, "Lettere
Pittoriche," and Gio. Battista Vermiglioli's admirable work on the
subject. The latter is splendidly illustrated.
[57] Some years ago a gentleman of Perugia bought from a grocer in
the town for the sum of twenty-five centimes the original drawing
of Baroccio's "Deposition." (See No. 9, Gabinetto della Torre,
Pinacoteca.)
[58] See model in the Museum of the University.
[59] The stone is probably some rare form of agate. It is transparent
and takes many lights; the colour is a faint yellowish blue. The
people of the place have strange fancies about its colour. Before we
had seen it we asked of others what it looked like. "Ah," answered the
small son of the sacristan, "it is white, and it is not white. It has
no given colour. It is impossible to describe it, for nothing else is
like it." Goldoni, in his memoirs, gives the following description of
it:--"The ring with which St Joseph wedded the Virgin Mary is made of
a transparent blue stone, and is a circle of some thickness; thus it
appeared to me, but they say that the ring changes its colour and form
miraculously, according to the various persons who approach it."
[60] A picture capable of working miracles.
[61] To those who only search for art, its picture by Perugino will
seem the chief attraction. This is, however, a poor bit of the
master's work with many of his later affectations.
[62] This fact is uncertain, and many people ascribe the work to Ducci.
[63] A note to Gregorovius' "Tombs of the Popes" says that Innocent's
bones have been carried to Rome by Leo XIII. and buried in S. John
Lateran.
[64] See "Lenten Journey in Umbria, 1862."
[65] The word Marzia naturally suggests a temple to Mars, and indeed
certain half-legendary records point to the fact that such a temple
formerly existed on this same spot.
[66] In Bonfigli's fresco of the siege of Perugia by Totila at the
Pinacoteca (see chapter x.), we have an admirable portrait of the
square of S. Ercolano, and on one of the house walls, under a small
pent roof, there is a minute copy of a fresco: a madonna and saints
with angels. It is not at all improbable that this fresco is really
the one by Buffalmacco (now destroyed) described in the above passage
by Vasari.
[67] This last fact is interesting for several reasons. It shows that
even some of the Perugian priests took part against the Pope on this
memorable 20th of June. The Benedictine monks at S. Pietro opened
their convent to the citizens to use as a fortress on that day, and
themselves joined in the fighting. Their loyalty to the city has
never been forgotten. When in 1860 all the convents of Perugia were
broken up the government spared the monks of S. Pietro. They left the
pictures in the church, which was turned into a "national monument";
and they left the monks in their cells with the understanding that
when their number should be at last reduced to two the convent with
its vast lands was to be turned into an agricultural school, but in no
ways to be divided up, sold, or desecrated. Hence the comparatively
perfect condition of S. Pietro.
[68] The _Garden of Gethsemane_. The picture has been struck by
lightning, and the strong slanting line which crosses it from end
to end adds a certain mysterious charm to the group of the sleeping
Apostles.
[69] Sometimes called Piazza Danti.
[70] There are many people still living in Perugia who remember
the time when those who wanted to converse over a glass of good
wine would give each other rendezvous at "Il Papa." In Hawthorne's
"Transformation" some of the principal characters keep a tryst under
this same statue.
[71] It must, however, be remembered that Julius' policy was only on
the surface, and that the yoke of Rome was not by any means lifted
from the city.
[72] _Lancie_: stands in old Italian for three horsemen.
[73] There are one or two other points of interest in this square,
which are dwarfed, of course, by the splendid Etruscan relic. In
the big block of late Renaissance building (Palazzo Galenga) to the
left, Goldoni acted as a child, and in the same square the composer,
Francesco Morlacchi, was born. Morlacchi was the author of much music,
sacred and profane, and the Perugians, who cannot truly be called a
musical race, are very proud of, and have named their biggest theatre
after him. Morlacchi died in 1841, and the great Requiem which he
had composed for the funeral of his patron, Frederic Augustus I. of
Saxony, was sung in the Duomo of Perugia, "to obtain eternal peace for
the soul of this her valiant son."
[74] The borgo of S. Angelo was always reported in old days to be
inhabited by the most wicked people in Perugia, and, indeed, during
the turmoils of the centuries the first rumble of revolution and of
discord could usually be traced to this quarter.
[75] Perugino seems to have taken a particular pleasure in work of
this sort; his designs for the Cambio stalls are a good illustration
of the ingenuity he expended on them.
[76] In one of the loveliest of the old houses as one passes down to
the left, Madame Alinda Brunamonte lives: a poetess of whose talent
Perugia is most justly proud; and a little lower down is the Palazzo
degli Oddi with its exquisite copy, said to be by Pinturicchio, of
Raphael's Madonna del Libro, and the strange charts of the Oddi
palaces upon the plain, decorating its walls.
[77] It is fair to say that many other towns dispute this strange
honour with Perugia, and probably with far better claims.
[78] Ducci did other excellent work in Perugia, namely, the gate of
S. Pietro, the beautiful altar in S. Domenico, and a Madonna and
child which is now in the University Museum, but which was originally
made for a niche on the façade of S. Francesco al Prato. It was the
Florentine sculptor, too, who is said to have founded the pottery
works at Deruta.
[79] See plate.
[80] See poem of "Viola," by Alinda Brunamonte.
[81] See "History of the Papacy during the Reformation," vol. i. p.
146.
[82] In Bonfigli's great _gonfalone_ now at the Pinacoteca, but
originally painted for the Oratory of S. Bernardino, we see a meeting
of the Confraternities, and an admirable portrait of their chapel and
their square.
[83] This _Gonfalone_ is one of the loveliest of the series mentioned
on p. 238. Like the one in the Duomo it is covered with a gauze veil,
but can easily be seen with a little patient inspection.
[84] Siepi says that he cannot even imagine how old S. Martino is, but
he knows that it is built upon the top of the Etruscan wall.
[85] See note p. 229.
[86] The town, like every other small Italian town, has had its
complicated and tempestuous history. Its walls, many of which are
very early, have suffered siege (see pp. 19, 20); and its hills are
honeycombed in places with Etruscan tombs.
[87] It is curious to note that it was Paul III. who ordered
Michelangelo's Last Judgment to be painted over Perugino's
altar-piece, and that it was also Paul III. who built his fortress on
the ruins of the Baglioni palaces at Perugia.
[88] "That stupendous thief Napoleon Bonaparte." This magnificent
title was conferred on the dead Emperor by a poor little withered
custodian of an Umbrian church.
[89] Since writing the above, we have been shown a very early MS.,
which shows that Pietro's bones were taken from the ditch by a priest
and buried under the walls of his church at Fontignano.
[90] L'Ingegno is a mysterious figure in the school of Perugino. Our
National Gallery has a picture signed A. A. P. (ANDREAS ALOYSII
PINXIT) which is believed to be an authentic work of his. We have
no distinct records of the man, though the pictures ascribed to him
are very numerous. The best known of these are at Assisi. His work and
his personality are a sort of shadow of Perugino. Vasari felt no sort
of doubts about l'Ingegno; indeed he pronounced him to be the best
master of Perugino's school, and vying with Raphael in his studio. He
also tells us that l'Ingegno's glory was early withered by the curse
of blindness; this fact has, however, been disproved by Rumohr, who
has made very careful research upon the subject. Whatever l'Ingegno
was, or whatever he did, one cannot ignore his existence in a survey
of the Umbrian school, and the very fact of the mystery in which he is
shrouded attracts and draws one to him.
[91] There is a beautiful bit of his work in the little old church of
S. Martino at Perugia. (See p. 215.)
[92] The Cambio is in the same block of buildings as the Palazzo
Pubblico, though separated from these by the Via dei Priori. It is the
hall in which the members of the Exchange met in old days to settle
their affairs. For full account of the history of the Exchange at
Perugia, and of its meeting-room, see _Storia Artistica del Cambio di
Perugia_--Adamo Rossi.
[93] The pictures of Perugia were formerly stored in the museum of the
University. In 1871 they were removed to the top storey of the Palazzo
Pubblico, and here, since they may never again return to church or
convent, they have found a permanent and fitting home.
[94] Two fine portraits in the Palazzo Baldeschi are attributed to
Velasquez, but there is no proof that the Spanish painter really
came to paint them. Another beautiful picture--the property of Count
Meniconi Braceschi, at Perugia--is attributed to Filippo Lippi, but is
more probably the work of Neri di Bicci.
[95] The frieze round the top of the same room clashes hopelessly with
the calm pre-Raphaelite figures beneath it. It was painted by Tommaso
d'Arcangelo, a pupil of Giulio Romano, and represents some of the
events in the life of Braccio Fortebraccio.
[96] There is another picture of exactly the same type in the Church
of the Carmine. It has hitherto been given an earlier date than
Bonfigli--1130--and it is one of the so-called miraculous Madonnas.
We have made careful search, both in the documents of the church and
in other books upon the pictures of Perugia, but can get no certain
information about it; yet we feel nearly convinced that it is the work
of Bonfigli. Some of the _gonfaloni_--those in S. Francesco al Prato
and S. Lorenzo--are covered with a thin gauze veil. The one of the
Carmine was also thus covered originally, but the veil caught fire and
burnt to cinders. Not a flame even so much as touched the faces of our
Lady and her angels.
[97] The picture is a curious record of the times. Two excommunicated
women kneel in the right hand corner; one of them is huddled in a
veil, but the other, fair and soulless as Greek Helen, turns aside and
smiles.
[98] The four panels of saints and angels round the Madonna are
attributed to Caporali.
[99] In Matarazzo's chronicles of the sixteenth century we find
an accurate account of the different costumes worn by the nobles
of Perugia (see p. 99). It has been suggested to us by a learned
gentleman of Perugia, that Fiorenzo was simply copying the costumes of
his period, and that in his group of young men in the miracles of S.
Bernardino he did but portray the most important actors of the day,
whose armorial bearings were shown in their apparel, namely, the "most
magnificent gentlemen, Oddi and Baglioni."
[100] The hole it filled may still be seen in No. 16, Room XIII., but
the big picture is torn from its frame and its place filled up with a
good bit of Eusebio's work.
[101] Eusebio was a favourite pupil of Perugino. There is something
pathetic in his life. Men seemed better friends to him than fortune.
Pinturicchio loved him and took him with him to Siena to help him with
his work there. He was a great friend of Manni, too, and a passionate
admirer of Raphael, whose work he imitated. When very young he married
a beautiful girl of Perugia whom he loved deeply. By her he had many
children and his life became a struggle to support them, so that he
was often hampered and distracted in his work and died early and in
misery.
[102] That Perugia had great Raphaels not very long ago everyone
knows. The exquisite Madonna del Libro is now in S. Petersburg, and
the British nation paid a memorable sum for the Ansidei Madonna which
used to hang in S. Fiorenzo.
[103] It will perhaps be objected by some readers that the above
pages contain too few facts and dates about the painters of the
Umbrian school and the manner in which they were influenced by the
Florentines. For these, we add the following list of authorities whose
works contain full store of information on the subject:
Crowe & Cavalcaselle--_History of Painting in Italy_, vol. iii.
Alinda Brunamonti--_Pietro Perugino e l'Arte Umbra._
Angelo Lupatelli--_Storia della Pittura in Perugia_ and _Pinacoteca
Vannucci_.
Bernhard Berenson--_The Central Painters of the Renaissance._
[104] The Museum is kept in the upper story of the University at
Perugia, and a delightful street, or rather aqueduct, called the Via
Appia, leads down to it from the back of the Canonica.
[105] At first these collections were kept in their owners' private
palaces, later on they sold or gave them to their native town. Early
in this century the objects thus collected were moved from their
original home in the Palazzo Pubblico, and placed in the corridors and
upper storey of the university. Thanks to the indefatigable care and
energy of such men as Vermiglioli and Conestabile, who devoted their
lives to the study, explanation, and history of these relics, we now
have a splendid answer to many of our questions, both in the carefully
arranged collection of the University and in the books concerning them.
[106] In our quotation from M. Lefèvre's work (see p. 268) we find
what is at least a very plausible explanation of this dearth of their
language.
[107] Send a card through Madame Brufani, Grand Hotel, or through the
custodes at the University Museum.
[108] The discovery was a great point for students, and everybody will
be glad to hear that the unconscious discoverer did not suffer through
it, but lived to plough the surface of the land, the caverns of which
antiquarians from distant countries hurried at once to investigate.
[109] For a full description of the Tomb of the Volumnii, see Gio.
Battista Vermiglioli's work: _Il Sepolcro dei Volumni_. Vermiglioli
has made the most elaborate investigations, and transcribes the
inscription on the door post thus:
Arnth: larth: Velimna:
Aruneal: Thvsiur:
Svthi: avil: thece:
which he translates after infinite labour, to mean roughly Aruns Lars
Volumnius (son of) Arunia or Aronia dedicated (the monument, and
ordered) the annual sacrifices.
Vermiglioli has also traced the origins of the Volumnian family who,
it seems, were well known in the Roman times, and constantly mentioned
by the Roman writers. One of the Volumnii is known to have been the
writer of tragedies (these were probably written in Latin). There
was an Etruscan divinity called Volumnus or Volumna. The family was
important throughout Etruria. It may have started in Perugia certainly
its chief necropolis seems to have been here.
[110] The group of sarcophagi in this chamber has apparently never
been touched.
[111] The sarcophagi do not belong to the early period of
Etruscan art, but to the times of the Roman occupation 200 or 300
B.C.
[112] The Medusa was used by the Etruscans as a sort of spell to
keep off evil influences and bad people from their dead. The dead,
it seems, never left their graves but hovered always round the place
where their ashes were preserved.
[113] In 1155 Frederick Barbarossa besieged Gubbio, but the Bishop
of the city--Ubaldo--pleaded in such passionate terms for her
deliverance, that the Emperor renounced the siege. Since then the holy
Bishop is worshipped with almost barbaric rites in the city. On his
feast-day (May 15) his image, and those of the two other patron Saints
of the town, are carried in a weird and almost horrible procession
from midday until night-fall through the streets. They are mounted on
immense candelabra--_ceri_--of extraordinary shape, and weighing each
several tons. The young men of the town, dressed in white shirts and
trousers and coloured caps, and staggering, half mad with wine and
weariness, bear them upon their shoulders at a half trot. At nightfall
they make a final rush with these Umbrian juggernauts up the mountain
side to the chapel of the Saint, and there the _ceri_ remain in peace
for the remainder of the year, till fetched for the same barbaric
performance the following May. For a full and most interesting account
of this ceremony we must refer the reader to Mr Bower's delightful
book on the "Ceri of Gubbio."
[114] Ottaviano Nelli, born sometime towards the end of the fourteenth
century, son of Martino Nelli and a native of Gubbio. He was one of
the very earliest masters of the Umbrian school of painting, following
close and copying without ambition the work of the Sienese. The fresco
in S. Maria Nuova at Gubbio is considered his masterpiece. It strives
towards beautiful colouring and sentiment rather than correct drawing.
[115] Spello was at one time a Roman colony. The Roman gate _Porta
Veneris_ is well preserved. A little to the left of the town, outside
its present walls, are the remains of its old theatre. The town is
also connected with the mythical history of Orlando, and a long
inscription on the walls records the facts minutely.
[116] _Albergo della Posta_--a really admirable inn.
[117] Melanzio, the delightful painter of Montefalco, had noted this
blue-green light of spring, he had caught it in his very soul, and put
it back into his landscapes, into his Virgin's gown, yes, and even
into the shadows on the faces of his saints. "Fourth-rate" a critic
called him, but we, who have no wish or power to criticise, loved him
for the harmony which we found between his native landscape and his
pictures.
[118] This airy old church has been converted into the Pinacoteca of
Montefalco. It is one of the few local picture galleries which ever
really pleased us. The pictures and frescoes taken from their altars
in the neighbouring churches have found a home and not a prison on its
wide walls; their dignity and sentiment have not been taken from them
in the change of their position.
[119] There are one or two pictures by Lo Spagna in Trevi, the best
one in the church of the Lagrime, to the south of the town.
[120] There is considerable doubt felt nowadays as to whether the
exquisite little temple once dedicated to the river god Clitumnus
which we now see standing above the river, is really the same as that
early one described by Pliny. The work on it is certainly very late
Roman, if, indeed, it be Roman at all: the emblems are, many of them,
purely those of Christian art. But as the temple was turned into a
Christian chapel (dedicated to S. Salvadore), it may, perhaps, be that
its detail was altered to suit the altered creed. However these things
be, the tiny building remains one of the most charming and romantic
points in Umbria--one of the sweetest tributes that man's mind ever
paid to the spirits of Nature. Before leaving the spot one should
walk on to the place below the road, where the river springs straight
from the foot of the hills--a limpid stream, rising almost invisibly
through the grass and trees which overshadow its mysterious source.
[121] Spoleto, like nearly every other important Umbrian city, was
at one time a Roman colony (512). Later she and Benevento were the
first of the Italian cities to form themselves into duchies under the
Lombards; and the dukes of Spoleto form an important point in Umbrian
history, as at one time they ruled over the whole of Umbria. (Later,
as we have seen, Perugia got the ascendency.) Spoleto was Ghibelline
in spirit, made incessant wars with neighbouring towns which favoured
the Pope, and quarrelled constantly with the popes themselves. The
extraordinary position of the town, serving, so to speak, as an inland
harbour off the Flaminian Way, exposed her to constant attacks from
passing hordes and armies, and one of the most dramatic points in
her early history is that of the repulse of Hannibal: "Alone, in the
midst of universal dismay, the youthful colony of Spoleto lost not its
courage," says a local historian, "and after a period of less than
twenty-four years from its foundation made its name illustrious, by
associating it with one of the most memorable events of antiquity." By
resisting the army of the African, Spoleto, of course, was of great
assistance to Rome, as the repulse was the first solid check in his
advance.
[122] Albergo Luccini, a rambling old palace belonging in old days
to a Cardinal, and now to Signor Luccini. An interesting inn, which
should be better known and more frequented. Its landlord has made
a beautiful collection of the old furniture, pottery, etc. of the
neighbourhood, and the vast rooms of his house are filled with these
fine things. We can imagine no more fascinating abode for any person
bitten with a love of history and (alas for its landlord) solitude.
[123] _Albergo dell' Angelo_, a thoroughly delightful house, clean,
well-kept, miraculously cheap, and hospitable, with airy rooms (no
luxuries), and one of the most surprising views in Umbria.
[124] The history of Narni is full of one long conflict with Trevi.
[125] The Duomo is almost perfect still, and dates from the thirteenth
century. A beautiful basilica, with unspoiled columns, a fine pulpit,
and one or two good pictures.
[126] The cathedral was begun at the end of the thirteenth century.
Nicholas IV. laid the first stone in 1290. It was built to commemorate
a miracle which happened to a priest at Bolsena (near Orvieto), who,
disbelieving in the sacraments, beheld them turned to actual flesh
and blood. The napkin with the blood stains is kept in a marvellously
beautiful shrine in the Duomo--a thing of rare and exquisite
workmanship in silver and enamels.
[127] The popes were always flying from Rome to Orvieto for safety.
Thirty-two of them are recorded to have stayed in the town.
[128] The road from Chiusi to Città della Pieve is marvellously
beautiful, winding up through one of those virgin forests of oaks
which still are scattered through various tracts of central Italy.
[129] It must be remembered that the only wealth of these hill-set
Umbrian cities, or rather the only source of life, comes from the
fields outside them. There is no commerce or manufacturing of any sort
in a town like Città della Pieve.
[130] _Descent from the Cross_ by Perugino. A door was at one time
driven through the fresco, thus exactly cutting away the principal
figure--that of our Saviour. The picture has been spoilt in other
ways; but it is full of Pietro's graceful sentiment, and the group of
the Marys at the foot of the cross is one of the most touching things
that we remember of the Master.
[131] See _Pélérinages Ombriens_, p. 265. M. Broussole had been
staying at Città della Pieve, and, carried away by the excessive charm
of the place, he revolted a little from the learned dissertations of a
local historian, and broke into the sentiments which we quote above.
* * * * *
Typographical errors corrected by the etext transcriber:
John Addington Symond's "Sketches in Italy,"=> John Addington Symonds'
"Sketches in Italy," {pg 68 fn 36}
Pietro Vanucci=> Pietro Vannucci {pg x 4}
d'ou toute la vallée se découvre=> d'où toute la vallée se découvre {pg
82}
the tops of their sarcophag=> the tops of their sarcophagi {pg 274}
C'est l'Appenin, avec ses bandes de contre-forts=> C'est l'Apennin, avec
ses bandes de contre-forts {pg 290}
CONVENT of S. Guiliana, 100.=> CONVENT of S. Giuliana, 100. {pg 320}
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