Part 9

Almost adjoining the south-west corner of the cathedral, and built on sloping ground, stands Parma's celebrated baptistery. It was begun in the year 1196, from designs by Benedetto Antelami. The construction was for many years very spasmodic, and wholly ceased when the bloodthirsty Ezzelino da Romana governed North Italy for Frederick II. in the thirteenth century, and forbade the inhabitants to quarry any more marble. At his death it was pushed on, and in the end finished towards the close of that century, a date which accounts for the pointed arches at the top of the interior. It is built of Verona marble, and is an octagon with three arched portals, on which are some very interesting sculptures of Old Testament history. Jacob, out of whom grows a tree in the branches of which are his brothers with Moses at the top, is on one side of the north door. Another tree, with David and Solomon and the Prophets, is a pendant on the other. The south doorway is decorated in a similar style, but the trees are full of all the birds apparently then known. Barn-door fowls, storks, parrots, eagles, ducks, and peacocks, &c. &c., find a place in this extraordinary aviary in stone. Signs of the Zodiac form a sort of frieze on the lower portions of the eight sides of the exterior. Four tiers of columns forming open galleries support a continuous architrave, which, whatever the architectural merits, is not artistically a pleasing arrangement. The interior is sixteen-sided. Between each division a long marble shaft is carried from its base on the floor right up to the converging ribs of the pointed vaulting. The whole of the walls and vault are covered with frescoes. The upper are early, and appear to be almost contemporaneous with the finishing of the building. The lower bear the names of Niccolo da Reggio and Bartolino da Piacenza, and are of fourteenth-century date. The Life of John the Baptist naturally takes precedence in these interesting examples of mural decoration. The huge font in the centre of the baptistery is cut out of a single block of marble. It has a centre compartment like that already described in S. Giovanni in Fonte, in Verona. The registers of the baptistery go back as far as the year 1459, since when it is known that all the babies born in Parma have been received into the Faith within its walls.

The church of S. Lodovico, also called S. Paolo, was formerly attached to a Benedictine nunnery. Correggio's celebrated series of pagan frescoes cover the walls of the "parlour" of the nunnery. They were executed to the order of the abbess, Giovanna da Piacenza, and are more fitted for a "Trianon" than a convent. Minerva, Juno, Bacchus, and other heathen gods and goddesses, with Cupids, and such-like profanities, are most charmingly arranged amidst a lattice pattern of flowers and foliage. At the period, the beginning of the sixteenth century, when this dainty scheme was painted, great licence and irregularities prevailed in some of these conventual establishments. The abbess and her nuns often entered into all the gaieties of the outside world and indulged in the vices pertaining to it. In this case the wrath of the austere Adrian VI. was visited on Giovanna and her flock, and S. Paolo was closed, the abbess dying within a month after this humiliation.

GENOA

The poet Tasso in his "Jerusalem Delivered" sings of the exploits of the great commander of the First Crusade; and although Godfrey de Bouillon had little to do with Genoa, it was from its port that his fleet spread sail in 1096 and disappeared over the southern horizon on its way to the Holy Land. Nearly three years had passed in hard fighting before Godfrey and his army found themselves before the walls of Jerusalem. Meanwhile the Second Crusade had started from Genoa, under the command of Guglielmo Embrianco. He joined forces with De Bouillon, and the Holy City fell to their arms on July 15, 1099. Embrianco covered himself with glory; and on his return, among other treasures, brought home the celebrated Sacro Catino, which he presented to his native city. This dish of green glass is in the Cathedral. For centuries it was supposed to have been fashioned from a single emerald, and tradition has it as the very dish, the Holy Grail, which held the Paschal Lamb at the Last Supper.

The port of Genoa is very different now to what it was in those early days. Ships of all nationalities and every sort of build find refuge behind the numerous breakwaters which protect them from every gale that blows. The Molo Vecchio is the oldest of these shelters, and built upon half its length is an old quarter that is one of the fast-vanishing slums of the city. On the sea-ward side of this mole the Mura della Malapaga frowns on incoming craft, just as when in days gone by it bid defiance to the enemies of Genoa whose temerity had led them thus far in attacks on the city. It is terminated by a grand sea-gateway of very massive construction. At the end of a subsequent extension the old lighthouse rises, now well within the port. The house still stands in the old quarter in which Marco Polo was imprisoned after the defeat of the Pisans at the battle of Curzola, when he was taken captive. The Molo Nuovo stretches from the west side of the port near the tall Pharo, and, running outwards, bends back and covers the Molo Vecchio from the southerly gales.

[Illustration: AN OLD STREET, RAVENNA]

Genoa's quays present a busy picture with the endless traffic that makes her the premier port of Italy. Strings of heavily laden carts drawn by teams of great mules are continually passing to and fro. Cabs rattle on the pavements, their drivers cracking their whips, the horses' heads decorated with the long tail feathers of the Amherst pheasant that dance about to the music of the harness-bells. Groups of boys play pitch and toss with coins, and still cry "Croce e Griffo" ("Cross or Gryphon"), a cry as old as the wars with Pisa. Itinerant pedlars pester folk to buy what no one seems to want. Under the arcades that face the sea-front shops of all sorts exhibit everything the seafarer can possibly require, and a lively business goes on in restuffing the emigrants' mattresses with dry sea-weed or hay. Up, behind all this, narrow streets wind through the old parts of the city and form an intricate maze wherein it is not difficult to miss one's way. Many of the houses here are seven, eight, or nine storeys high. All the day's washing--and every day is washing day--hangs out from the windows on long bamboos, or flutters from a cord stretched across the confined thoroughfares. Fowls, in their inquisitive endeavours to find food, try to satiate an appetite which is never satisfied. They are all scraggy. Dark courtyards at the bottom of these tall dwellings teem with screaming children and scolding women who are engaged at the fountain troughs with the washing. The ear-splitting cries of hawkers hasten one's footsteps down the steep descents, and one dodges out of their way only to lose oneself in vain attempts to leave the picturesque but squalid quarters of old Genoa.

However fascinating these slums may be--and they can hold their own from the painter's point of view with those in any other Mediterranean port--it must be acknowledged that the palaces for which Genoa is justly famous have hardly a rival. Historically the most interesting is the Palazzo di S. Giorgio, which stands close to the quayside at the east end of the Piazza Caricamento. It was erected in 1261 by Guglielmo Boccanegra, Captain of the People, for his own residence. At his death it was taken over as the government office for the registration of public loans, or _compere_, and named the Palazzo della Compere. In 1407 the Banking Company which practically ruled commercial Genoa acquired it as their headquarters, and its name was changed to that of the city's patron saint. This bank was the oldest in the world. It originated after the Genoese had driven the Venetians out of Constantinople, and so crippled the trade of their great Adriatic rival that for a time they were masters of nearly all the Eastern commerce that flowed westwards. This increase in prosperity was to a great extent the cause of the formation of a trading company, which accepted deposits and advanced loans to others than its own members. Thus was founded a bank that carried on its business successfully until the last Doge of Genoa was unseated and the mushroom Republic of Liguria proclaimed. The bank's property was then confiscated, and Genoa, governed by time-servers and place-hunters, fell upon evil days.

The Palazzo has been much altered and restored, but retains some of the original Genoese Gothic of Boccanegra's building. The Grand Hall on the first floor contains many statues of the city's benefactors and prominent men, and is an interesting epitome of their charities, which are commemorated on tablets attached to each. Some of these statues are seated, others are standing. The former are of men who purchased their niche in this Temple of Fame by payment of one hundred thousand livres to the state; while those who wished to be handed down to posterity at a cheaper rate had to content themselves with effigies that for ever are on two legs. The building is now the Customs House, and so once more money passes through different hands within its walls.

There are no other streets in Italy which can boast such an array of noble houses as the renamed Strada Nuova, now the Via Garibaldi, and the Via Balbi. The Palazzo Rosso has a magnificent _sala_ that has a roof decorated with the armorial bearings of the Brignole family and those they intermarried with. The Municipality is now lodged in the Palazzo Doria Tursi. It has a grand façade flanked by open arcades with gardens on top, and was built for one of the Grimaldi by Rocco Lurago, a Como architect. Christopher Columbus was born in Genoa, and a bust of him stands in the great hall of the palace, the Sala della Giunta. In its pedestal are some of his autograph letters to the Banco di S. Giorgio. His family came from Piacenza, but at the time of his birth his father was warden of the Porto dell' Olivella, one of the city gates. The Palazzo Ducale, a huge building of mixed styles, was begun in the thirteenth century but not finished until the sixteenth. The Palazzo Durazzo has a grand vestibule and the finest staircase of all. The Palazzo Doria, standing alone in a delightful garden which extends towards the harbour, is beautified by a good _loggia_ with arcades. Many are the palaces built by the great families of Genoa, the Spinola, Pallavicini, Balbi, Fieschi, Cambiasco, and others, as well as those already mentioned. They all contain large collections of pictures and other treasures, and it can certainly be said that the old nobility have left a hall-mark on their city. The earlier buildings all possessed towers, and during the Guelph and Ghibelline feuds, when street fighting was ever recurrent, these vantage positions were of immense strategic value--it was so pleasant to put the opposing faction _hors de combat_ by pouring boiling pitch and molten lead on to the heads below! Street fighting became at length such a nuisance to the peaceable inhabitants that the order went forth that all towers were to be demolished, with one exception, the tower that Guglielmo Embrianco attached to his house. This alone was spared. And it is due to the veneration in which his name was held that it stands to-day the solitary defensive relic of Genoa's family feuds. It will be noticed that some of these palaces are faced, like the Cathedral, with bands of black and white marble. This distinction was granted to the four noble houses of Doria and Spinola, who were adherents of the Pope, and Fieschi and Grimaldi, who took the Emperor's side in all wars.

The Cathedral is a good example of what may be termed Genoese Gothic. It is dedicated to S. Lorenzo, and was consecrated by Pope Gelasius II. in 1118. The façade, separated into three unequal parts, is a good example of thirteenth-century Gothic. The _piazza_ on to which it faces slopes sharply downhill--all Genoa is up and down hill--and the Cathedral rises well on its tier of steps. Bands of black and white form the exterior wall of the whole building, and are effectively carried through the recesses of the portals. The centre porch has twisted columns, which are carried round the splay of the arch. The columns themselves alternate with others that are circular. The bases and pedestals are covered either with carving or inlaid chequer and lozenge patterns. The two flanking porches are similar, and assist very greatly to increase the pleasing effect of this somewhat elaborate treatment, which is heightened by the two detached spiral columns on either side and those that terminate the façade at each end. In the tympanum over the central doorway is a figure of S. Lawrence lying nude on a gridiron. The fire beneath is stoked and kept alive by bellows handled by those who assisted at his martyrdom. Above is a figure of the Almighty surrounded by an angel, a lion, a peacock, and a deer. The detached column at the south-west angle of the façade, seen in the illustration, carries a figure of the patron saint under a canopy. It rests on the back of a lion; four smaller beasts of the same species encircle the base. The two huge _couchant_ lions at either end of the steps are of much later date than these. From the south-west angle a fine turreted tower rises upwards from the square, and with its copper dome forms a great feature of the Cathedral as one walks up the Strada Carlo Felice. This street is narrow and full of traffic, so much so that it is with difficulty one makes out the many mutilated tablets with Roman inscriptions, built haphazard into the south wall of the Cathedral, and the canopied mediæval tombs let in above.

[Illustration: FAÇADE OF THE CATHEDRAL, GENOA]

The interior of the building is disappointing. One expects to find more space. A gallery at the west end, under which you find yourself directly upon entering, forms a sort of atrium. It is supported by very massive clustered columns which carry a good groined vault with heavy ribs. This was originally the _cantoria_, or organ-loft. Nine small bays on either side separate the nave from the aisles. The single columns of the arches are of red and purple marble from the renowned quarries at Tortosa, in Spain. At each corner of the black marble bases, and touching the _torus_ of the column, the head of a bird or animal has been carved. The arches of the bays are pointed. Above them is an open triforium formed by rows of small stunted arches that are carried by single and clustered columns in banded black and white. The clerestory is of small narrow single lights. The transepts are Renaissance, and the choir a mixture of styles.

The chapel of St. John the Baptist in the north aisle bears a resemblance to that of "Il Santo" at Padua. Four slender carved pillars support the entablature of good Renaissance design, on which are exceptionally well arranged panels illustrating the saint's life. Filippo Doria erected the canopy borne by porphyry columns which stands over the altar. Under this, enclosed in an iron casket within a marble ark, on which are sculptured reliefs, are the remains of St. John.

Genoa's fleet was homeward bound after one of the crusades, when, through stress of weather, it took shelter in the port of Myrra, in Lycia. Hearing that a monastery close by contained the sacred remains of the saint, some of the bolder spirits of the fleet entered the church attached, and, despite the protests of their co-religionists, carried off in triumph all that remained of St. John. The relics were presented to their own Cathedral of S. Lorenzo on arriving home. Here they have rested ever since. No women are admitted into the chapel--a prohibition imposed by Pope Innocent VIII. in remembrance of the guilt of Herodias. The Treasury holds many things of value and interest besides the Sacro Catino already described. Among them is a fine piece of Byzantine much-bejewelled metal work known as the Cross of Zaccaria. It was carried off from Phocea by Ticino Zaccaria at the capture of that place.

The church of S. Bartolommeo degli Armeni contains the celebrated picture on a cloth of the head of Christ. It was given to one of the Montaldi, a noble Genoese family, by John Paleologus, Emperor of Constantinople, in return for important services rendered. The legend runs that Agbarus, King of Edessa, sent an artist, Annanias by name, to paint our Lord's portrait. Annanias was no portrait painter, and failed in the attempt. Our Lord then took a cloth, pressed it to His face, and sent the impression back to the King. Leonardo Montaldo bequeathed it to the church in 1382.

The church of S. Donato, with its Romanesque tower that was built into the walls of Genoa forming one of its defences, dates from the eleventh century. There are many other ecclesiastical fabrics in a place which is fast losing all traces of old associations. Of the three sets of walls built at different times as the city slowly enlarged itself, the outer alone bears any semblance of its pristine state, and modern Genoa, with up-to-date improvements, is encroaching on these. But for all this its situation is superb, and it is in every way a bright and charming place. To those who enter by rail it is impossible to grasp the incomparable position the city occupies. Coming in along the Cornice road from the west, or that from the east, it can be better realised. But the best approach is by sea. The long line of distant mountains that first appears on the horizon gradually opens up, peak rises beyond peak, the nearer hills become detached, valleys are revealed, and soon white houses may be discerned dotting the dark grey slopes. A long, broken array of villages fringes the blue waters, gathering closer together as land is approached. The mass of warm yellowish tint scintillating in the brilliancy of a Mediterranean sun takes shape, and the eye by degrees separates long terraced rows of buildings, church towers and domes from one another. The colour changes, and a heterogeneous combination of pink, white, yellow, and grey discloses the far-famed city rising tier above tier from the busy port that lies at its base. A whistle sounds, the rattling cable rushes out, the anchor plunges into the water, and our ship is at rest. We are in the historic port from which the First Crusade started, and from which not so long ago the patriot Garibaldi, with the friendly aid of Rubattino, sailed with his devoted thousand for Sicily.

PISA

You will not find in all Italy anything that is placed quite so well with an eye to effective grouping as the Baptistery, Cathedral, and Campanile of Pisa. Nowhere does anything approach so near to the ecclesiastical exclusiveness of an English cathedral close as the great square of level green sward in which these three remarkable fabrics stand. From one corner of the Piazza del Duomo part of the university buildings looks over the turf to the Baptistery. Hard by the seat of learning is the Porta Nuova, a fine gateway that pierces the old walls of the city--walls of an almost unpaintable red. Within the walls, on the other side of the Cathedral--that is, to the north--the Campo Santo stands with bare façade and domed tower. Adjoining it on the east, conventual buildings and the Palace of the Archbishop occupy the angle of the Piazza. They face the Campanile. The one or two establishments which come next as we continue our _giro_ are full of little marble "Leaning Towers" and other souvenirs which the tourist delights in. Save for the intrusiveness of these shops, there is nothing else in the surroundings of the vast square that detracts from the fascination of the wonderful group in the centre.

The Pisa of to-day cannot have changed much from the Pisa of two hundred years ago. It is true that, outside the old walls which encircle her, a straggling suburb is growing up, but within them noble palaces still front the River Arno, and others occupy the best positions in the city. Dwellings of the poorer classes line the narrow streets that connect the wider and more spacious thoroughfares; they crowd thickly together, and the life of the pavements is the life of Italy as the tourist loves to find it--the life of days gone by.

It has been said that all roads lead to Rome; in Pisa all roads lead to the Piazza del Duomo. In the centre stands the Cathedral; to the west of it, the Baptistery; to the east rises the Campanile, or Leaning Tower. Pisa had well-nigh reached the zenith of her power when in 1063 her people resolved to commemorate a great victory over the Saracens by building a new cathedral. Ninety years later, having destroyed their Southern rival Amalfi, the Pisans commenced the Baptistery. The year 1174 saw the first stone of the Campanile laid. Thus in a little over one hundred years these three buildings, which mark so important an epoch in Italian ecclesiastical architecture, were under construction. The advent of a man of unknown origin, Busketus, who designed the Cathedral, and whose epitaph is on one of its walls, heralded a new phase in the art of the country. And although he adapted something from the Romanesque, this grand church of his was the precursor of a style that we find amplified, but not improved upon, in Ferrara, Pavia, Parma, and, most notably of all, in the neighbouring city of Lucca. In the history of Italian ecclesiastical architecture Pisa stands pre-eminent.