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LETTERS 
 
 OF AN 
 
 ARCHITECT, 
 
 FROM 
 
 FRANCE, ITALY, AND GREECE. 
 
 BY 
 
 JOSEPH WOODS, F.A.S. F.L.S. F.G.S. 
 
 AND CORRESPONDING MEMBER 
 OF THE SOCIETY OF GEORGOFILI AT FLORENCE. 
 
 IN TWO VOLUMES. 
 
 VOL. I. 
 
 LONDON: 
 
 PRINTED FOR 
 
 JOHN AND ARTHUR ARCH, 61, CORNHILL. 
 1828. 
 
J. M'Creery, Tooks Court, 
 ChaDcerylaDe, LondoD. 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 Many books of travels in the south of Europe have been pub- 
 lished; some of them written by men of talents and information, 
 who were attached to the fine arts, and to architecture as one of" 
 them ; and many professional works treating on the architecture 
 of Italy and Greece, of greater or less excellence, have been given 
 to the world ; but I do not know that there is any one in which 
 the author, after examining the most celebrated edifices of ancient 
 and modern times, endeavours to explain to what circumstances 
 they owe their power of pleasing ; and what are to be considered 
 as defects, tending to diminish that power. The subject has been 
 slightly and incidentally touched upon by more than one travel- 
 ler, but not treated with that care and detail which it de- 
 serves. To the architect, it is of the greatest importance: it is 
 no less than the knowledge of what he is to shun, and what to 
 imitate ; by what different modes of building he can produce the 
 same effects, or how, by methods nearly similar, he can produce 
 different effects. In short, in what manner, with means always in 
 some degree limited, either by the nature of the material to be 
 employed, the customs of the country, the expense, or the taste or 
 no taste of the employer, he can produce beauty. The plans 
 and details of a great many edifices have been measured with 
 
iv PREFACE. 
 
 care, and published with considerable accuracy; and knowing the 
 original building to be beautiful, we copy, and re-copy its parts, 
 without considering whether all the particulars conduce to the 
 same harmonious effect, or whether those forms which please 
 under certain circumstances, may not displease in others : nor are 
 we entirely free from the danger of neglecting that character 
 and propriety of ornament, on which the beauty of the whole 
 must in some measure depend. In all the fine arts, but particu- 
 larly in architecture, the eye is frequently pleased without our 
 being able to explain why; and this why has sometimes escaped 
 in the drawings and measures which have been published of the 
 edifices. This connexion of cause and effect is then the great 
 end and object of the architect; the completion and consumma- 
 tion of his studies ; and this it is the object of the author of the 
 present work to explain, as far as his abilities and opportunities 
 will admit. The sentiment of wanting such guidance on his own 
 part, first incited him to make the attempt, and the frequent ob- 
 servation of how little the student in architecture, on first setting 
 out on his travels, knows how, or what he is to study, has en- 
 couraged him to persevere. He wishes to shew that the young 
 architect has a more important task to perform, than that of mea- 
 suring and re-measuring what has been a thousand times measured: 
 a task requiring much more mental exertion, and conducing in a 
 much higher degree to his future excellence. The first place in 
 the art is still unoccupied. The ancients had a Phidias, excellent 
 alike in sculpture and architecture; but the moderns have cer- 
 tainly yet produced no one, who can occupy in architecture, the 
 lofty eminence which Raphael does in painting. 
 
 This general and enlarged view of the subject will also, he 
 
PREFACE. V 
 
 flatters himself, be not without its use and interest amongst ama- 
 teurs. The uneducated man judges by his feelings ; the half 
 educated by rule. He who is thoroughly master of the subject 
 returns again to his feelings, but to feelings trained and purified 
 by study and reflection : and this training of the mind to a true 
 taste for what is good and beautiful, is an employment exceed- 
 ingly pleasant in itself, and conducing to that perfection of the 
 intellect, which it is the object of every man to attain. A 
 person who thus criticizes every fine building which he sees, 
 without vanity or presumption, with a sincere desire to find out 
 whatever is excellent, and to understand, and fully enter into, 
 the reasons for any admiration which has been generally bestowed 
 upon it by others, yet at the same time not blindly following 
 authority, but bringing everything to the test of his own feelings 
 and judgment, will form to himself a habit, profitable not only 
 when applied to architecture, and the other fine arts, but in every 
 subject on which the human understanding is exercised. 
 
 The following work will be found to be composed, almost en- 
 tirely, of observations on the principal buildings which occurred 
 to the author in his route through France, Italy, and a small part 
 of Greece. Yet, though always attending to this as the principal 
 object, he does not profess to confine himself so closely to it, as 
 not occasionally to have touched on almost every subject which 
 came in his way, partly in the hope of communicating what is not 
 generally known, partly with a desire of relieving his readers from 
 a tedious monotony of subject, which after all, from the nature of 
 a book of travels, must consist of observations in some degree loose 
 and detached ; and not of deep and extensive reasonings, even if 
 the author's mind were capable of producing them ; but more 
 
Vi PREFACE. 
 
 perhaps to relieve the tedium of the writer himself, who, too 
 much habituated all his life to diversify his studies, would 
 have found himself crampt by restrictions which limited him 
 to a single subject. The substance was contained in a series of 
 letters written during the journey. Some things of a private na- 
 ture have of course been omitted ; others, consisting principally of 
 dates and dimensions, have been added on the authority of books, 
 or of his friends; and some observations made on a subsequent tour 
 in 1825 and 1826, have been united to the present publication. 
 The arrangement of the subjects has at times been altered, from 
 that which they occupied in the original letters, and two or more 
 letters have sometimes been compressed into one ; but on the 
 whole, neither the substance nor the form has been materially 
 changed. 
 
 Some persons may deem an apology necessary for the positive 
 tone which the author has adopted in mere matters of opinion. 
 He had in fact, at first, frequently introduced the expressions, I 
 think, It seems to me, and others similar. The reflection that what- 
 ever he could say on such subjects, was necessarily the mere ex- 
 pression of his owa sentiments, has ultimately induced him to 
 
 reject such phrases, except where his own mind was not fully 
 made up. 
 
TABLE OF CONTENTS. 
 VOL. I. 
 
 LETTER I. 
 
 JOURNEY TO PARIS. 
 
 Bed-room and bed at Calais, p. 1. — Peculiarities of French towns, 2. — Journey to Bou- 
 logne, 2. — Combination of parts to form a perfect cathedral, 2. — Account of the head of 
 St. John the Baptist, and of the bones of St. Firmin, 3. — Cathedral of Amiens, 4. — 
 Western fronts of Churches, 6. — Comparison of French and English churches, 6. — Cen- 
 tral towers, 6. — Unequal towers in front, 7. — Doorways, 7. — Rose windows, 9. — Ridge 
 moulding, 10.— Effect of different styles of architecture, 10.— School-boys, 13. — Paper- 
 hanging, 14.— Journey to Beauvais, 14.— Cathedral at Beauvais, 14. — Oblique groins, 
 15. — Catholic ceremonies, 16. — Notre Dame de Basse oeuvre, 17. — St. Stephen, 17. — 
 Fragments of ancient architecture, 18. — Situation of Beauvais, 18. — Lodgings at Paris, 18. 
 
 LETTER II. 
 
 general account of PARIS. 
 
 Apartment at Paris, 19. — Boulevards, 20. — Gardens of the Tuileries, &c., 20. — Champs 
 Elys6es, 20. — Straight and winding walks, 21. — Walk through Paris, 21. — Quays, 21. — 
 Bridges, 22. — Narrow and crooked streets, 22. — Palais Royal, 22. — Cafe de Mille Co- 
 lonnes, 23 — M. du Fourny, 23. — Effect of collections in the fine arts, 24. — Denon, 24. — 
 Biblioth^que Royale, 25.— Humboldt, 26.— Institute, 26.— Visconti, 27.— Percier, 27. 
 — Millin, 28. 
 
 LETTER III. 
 
 GOTHIC ARCHITECTURE. 
 
 Journey to Chalons, 29.— Notre Dame de Chalons, 29.— Styles of Gothic, 30.— Chevet, 31. 
 — Change of form in the bases of the shafts or piers, 31. — Portals, 32. — Forms of piers, 
 32.— St. Wulfram at Abbeville, 33.— Forms of ornaments, 33.— Intersecting bases, 34.— 
 Church at L'Epine, 35.— St. Germain des Pr6s, 36. — Pointed arches, 37. — N6tre Dame 
 at Chalons continued, 40.— Old monuments, 41. — Cathedral at Chalons, 42. — Italian 
 tiles, 42. — Journey to Rheims, 42. 
 
viii 
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 LETTER IV. 
 
 GOTHIC ARCHITECTURE. 
 
 Church ot St. Remi at Rheims, 44. — Crypt, 45. — Church at Mantes, 45. — Cathedral at 
 Chartres, 47. — French guide-books, 47. — Shift of the Virgin, 48. — Elevation of roof in 
 French churches, 49. — Shrine-work round the choir, 53. — Disposition of the people, 54. — 
 Notre Dame at Paris, 54. — Comparison with Westminster Abbey, 57.— Cathedral at 
 Rheims, 57. — Disposition of coloured glass, 59. — Method of judging of the comparative 
 merits of buildings, 59. — Roman arch, 60. — Vaulted chamber, 60. 
 
 LETTER V. 
 
 RETURN TO PARIS. 
 
 Table d'hote, 61.— Chouan, 62. — Promenades, 62.— Journey to Soissons, 63. — Ruined 
 church of St. John the Baptist, 64. — Walk round the town, 64. — St. Leger, 64.— Cathe- 
 dral, 64. — Anniversary of the return of Louis XVIII., 65. — Return to Paris, 65. — Jardin 
 du Roi, 65. — Museum, 67. — Mont-martre, 68. — Mineralogic collections, 69. — Paintings of 
 David, 69, — Excursion to Chartres, Dreux, and Mantes, 70. — Cross-road travelling, 70. 
 — Bridge at Neuilly, 71. — Palace of St. Cloud, 71. — Botanique rurale, 72. — Versailles, 
 74. — Restaurateurs, 75. — Cafe d'Apollon, 75. — Church of St. Denis, 75. — Churches at 
 Braine sur Vesle, 77. — St. Andre at Chartres, 77. — St. Pere at Chartres, 77. — Cathedral 
 at Dreux, 78. — Church at Limay, 78. — St. Germain Auxerre, 78. — St. Jaques de la Bou- 
 cherie, 78.— St. Severin, 78.— St. Martin, 78.— St. Etienne du Mont, 78.— St. Nicolas des 
 Champs, 78. — St. Gervais, 78.— St. Eustache, 78. — Groins, 79. 
 
 LETTER VI. 
 
 EDIFICES OF PARIS. 
 
 Church of the Assumption, 82.— Val de Grace, 82. — Sorbonne, 82. — Invalides, 83. — 
 Gilding, 83. — Hospital of the Invalides, 83. — Dormer windows, 83. — Hotel de Clugny, 
 84.— Church of the Institute, 84.— History of the Church of St. Genevieve, 84.— St. Roch, 
 92.— St. Sulpice, 92.— Illuminated statue, 93.— St. Philippe en Roule, 93.— Palace of the 
 Tuileries, 93.— Space in French buildings, 94.— Louvre, 95.— Garde Meuble, 97.— Gal- 
 leries of the Louvre, 97.— Palais de Justice, 99.— Palace of the Luxembourg, 99.— Palais 
 du Corps Legislatif, 100.— Ecole de Medecine, 100.— Fountain, 101.— Hotel de Ville, 
 101.— Halle aux bles, 101.— Abattoirs, 101.— Fountains, 102.— Palais des Thermes, 102. 
 — Aqueduct of Arcueil, 103. 
 
 LETTER VII. 
 
 PARIS. 
 
 Academy, 104.— Sevres, 106.— M. Prudhom', 107.— Gallery of M. Sommariva, 107.— 
 Theatres, 107.— Signs, 108.— Festivals, 108.— Religious opinions, 109.— Illuminations, 
 111-— Liberty of the French, 112.— Political opinions, 113. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 ix 
 
 LETTER VII I. 
 
 JOURNEY TO LYON. 
 
 Jouruey to Troyes, 115. — Cathedral, 116. — Progress of crenated ornament, 118. — Church 
 of La Madelaine, 118.— St. TJrbain, 119.— Journey to Dijon, 119. — Cathedral, 120.— 
 Church of St. Michel, 120. — N6tre Dame, 121. — Working tradesmen, 124. — Journey to 
 Lyon, 124. — Cathedral at Chalons sur Saone, 125. — Church at Tournu, 125. — Approach 
 to Lyon, 126. 
 
 LETTER IX. 
 
 LYON. 
 
 Cathedral at Lyon, 127. — Rose and marigold windows, 128. — St. Paul, 130. — St. Nizier, 
 130. — Imitation of Roman mouldings, 131. — Church at Aynai, 131. — Hotel de Chevriere, 
 132. — Roman aqueduct, 132. — Crypt under church of St. Irene, 132. — Museum, 133. — 
 Deficiency of general knowledge among the French, 133. — Country about Lyon, 133. — 
 Caffes, 134. — French politeness, 134. — Theatre, 135. — Relicks, 135. — Constructions in 
 Pise, 136. 
 
 LETTER X. 
 
 SOUTH OF FRANCE. 
 
 Voyage to Vienne, 137. — Bridge, 137. — Church of St. Andre le Bas, 137.— Ancient temple, 
 138. — Pyramid, 138. — Roman arch, 138. — Roman fragments, 138. — Cathedral, 138. — 
 Elevated platform, 139. — Church of St. Michel, 141. — Churches by the Rhone, 141. — 
 Value of the Louis, 141. — Voyage down the Rhone, 141. — Ferries, 142. — Descent of the 
 Rhone, 143. — Pont St. Esprit, 143. — Mummies, 143. — Orange, 144. — Triumphal arch, 
 144. — Roman and Greek capitals and bases, 145. — Theatre, 146. — Circus and amphi- 
 theatre, 147. — Walk to Avignon, 147. — Voyage to Beaucaire, 148. — Beaucaire, 148. — 
 Quack, 149. — Castle of Beaucaire, 150. — Tarrascon, 150. — Advertisement, 150. — Maison 
 carree at Nismes, 151. — Temple of Diana, 151. — Public garden, 152. — Idea of comfort, 
 152. — Amphitheatre, 152. — Roman gateway, 153. — Tour magne, 153. 
 
 LET! ER XI. 
 
 SOUTH OF FRANCE. 
 
 Pont du Garde, 154. — Journey to Aries, 154. — Aries, 154. — Amphitheatre, 155. — Theatre, 
 155. — Capitol, 356. — Obelisk, 157. — Remains of baths, 157. — Sarcophagi, 157. — Jour- 
 ney to St. Remi, 159. — Arch, 159. — Sepulchral monument, 160. — Vaucluse, 160. — Ro- 
 man monuments mentioned by Millin, 161. — Chronological arrangement of buildings in the 
 South of France, 161. — Notre Dame de Dom, 162. — Cavern-like Gothic, 163. — Church 
 at Orange, 164. — Cathedral at Aries, 164. — Church at Tarrascon, 165. — Cathedral at 
 Nismes, 165.— Church at St. Remi, 166.— Cathedral at Valence, 166.— Cathedral at 
 Vienne, 167. — Inversion of ornament, 167. 
 VOL. I. b 
 
X 
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 LETTER XII. 
 
 SOUTH OF FRANCE. 
 
 Bridge at Avignon, 168.— Collections at Avignon, 169.— Papal palace, 169.— Tower of mas- 
 sacre, 169.— Journey to Grenoble, 170.— Grenoble, 171.— Visit to the Grande Chartreuse, 
 171._Tomb of Bayard, 173.— Journey to Geneva, 174.— General observations on the 
 French, 174.— Persecution of the Protestants at Nismes, 175. 
 
 LETTER XIII. 
 
 GENEVA. 
 
 Neighbourhood of Geneva, 178.— The Saleve, 178.— Ferney, 178.— Geneva, 179.— Church 
 of St. Pierre, 179.— Walk to Chamounix, 181.— Waterfalls, 182.— Effects of sunset on 
 the snow, 188.— Glacier, 183.— Montanvert and Mer de Glace, 185.— Walk to Martigny, 
 186.— Tete noire, 186.— Goitres, 186.— Pissevache, 187.— Vallais, 187.— Bex, 187.— Di- 
 rection of valleys, 187.— Salt springs, 188.— Walk to Meillerie, 188.— Lausanne, 189.— 
 Cathedral at Lausanne, 189. 
 
 LETTER XIV. 
 
 TOUR IN SWITZERLAND. 
 
 Ride to Bern, 191. — Fribourg, 191. — Bern, 191. — Models of Mountains, 191. — Gymnasium, 
 191. — Ride to Thun, 192.— Unterseen, 192.— Lauterbrunnen, 193. — Staubbach, 193. — Ava- 
 lanche, 193— Wengern Alp, 1!>4.— Alp, 194.— Grindelwald, 195.— Castle of Unspunnen, 
 195.— Niesen, 19G — Kanderthai, 196.— Gemmi, 196.— Baths of Loetsch, 197.— Vallais, 
 197. — Kainbow, 197. — Simplon, 197.— Swiss churches, 198. — Swiss cottages, 198. — 
 Duomo d'Ossola, 198. — Via crucis, 198. — Walk to Locarno, 199. — Lago raaggiore, 200. — 
 Borromean islands, 200. — Statue of St. Charles, 201. — Walk to Lugano, 201. — Lake of 
 Lugano, 202.— Walk to Menaggio, 203.— Lake of Como, 203.— Villa Pliniana, 203.— Walk 
 to Como, 204. 
 
 LETTER XV. 
 
 MILAN. 
 
 Cathedral, 205.— Effect of gloom, 209.— View from roof, 210.— Steeple of St. Godard, 210. 
 — Ornamental arches, 211. — Church of the Passione, 211. — Iron ties, 211. — Roodloft, 
 212.— Madonna di S. Celso, 212.— Courts, 212. — San Satyro, 212.— Sant Eustorgio, 212. 
 — Saint Ambrose, 213. — Want of elevation in churches in Italy, 214. — Funeral, 214. — 
 Madonna delle grazie, 216. — Painting of Last Supper, 217. — Church of St. Mark, 217. — 
 Palace of government, 218. — Colours, 218. — Brera, 219. — Arches upon columns, 219. — 
 Italian painting, 219. — Great hospital, 220. — Roman columns, 220. — Mosaics, 220. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 xi 
 
 APPENDIX. — PAVIA. 
 
 Canal from Milan to Pavia, 221. — Cathedral at Pavia, 221.— Church of the Carmine, 221. 
 
 San Francesco, 222.— San Salvadore, 222.— San Michele, 222.— San Pietro in Cielo d'Oro, 
 
 222. — Church erected by Pellegrino Pellegrini, 223.— University, 223.— Bridge over Ticino, 
 
 223. — Botanic garden, 223.— Certosa, 223. 
 
 LETTER XVI. 
 
 VERONA. 
 
 Journey to Verona, 225. — Theatre at Brescia, 225. — Lago di guarda, 225. — Amphitheatre at 
 Verona, 225. — Roman gateway, 227 —Bridges, 227.— Church of Santa Anastasia, 227. — 
 Cathedral, 228.— Church of St. Zeno, 229.— Cloisters of St. Zeno, 231.— Old church of 
 St. Zeno, 231.— Tomb of Pepin, 232.— Remains of the Bishop's Palace, 232.— Pellegrini 
 chapel, 232.— Relicks, 233.— San Fermo, 235. — Freedom in examining churches, 236.— 
 Tombs of the ScaUgers, 236.— Sanmicheli, 236.— Fortification, 237. — Palaces, 237.— 
 Tomb of Juliet, 237. 
 
 LETTER XVIL 
 
 VICENZA — PADL A. 
 
 Journey to Vicenza, 238.' — Vicenza, 238. — Lombard money, 239. — Palladio, 239. — Basilica, 
 
 240. — Palazzo Capitanale, 241. — Fabbrica Conte Porto al Castello, 241. — Palazzo Tiene, 
 
 241. — Triumphal arch, 242.— Church of Madonna del Monte, 242.— Rotonda, 242.— Pa- 
 lazzo Valmarana, 243. — Palazzo Trissino, 243. — Palazzo Barbarano, 244. — House of Pal- 
 ladio, 244. — Palazzo Chiericati, 244. — Palazzo del Conte Orazio da Porto, 244. — Olympic 
 theatre, 244.— Church of Santa Corona, 245.— Cathedral, 245.— Padua, 245.— Church of 
 St. Antony, 246. — Church of the Eremitani, 247. — Church of the Arena, 247. — Baptistery, 
 247. — Palazzo di Ragione, 247. — Church of Santa Giustina, 248. — Cathedral, 248. — 
 Church of La Madre Dolente, "249. — University, 249. — Tomb of Antenor, 249. — Museum 
 of the Palazzo Gazzola, 249. — Painting, 249. 
 
 LETTER XVIII. 
 
 VENICE. 
 
 Journey to Venice, 251. — Venice and Venetian life, 251. — Italian theatre, 253. — Piazza di 
 San Marco, 255. — Orologio, 256. — Campanile, 256. — Church of St. Mark, 256. — Ducal 
 palace, 261. — Harbour and canal of the Giudecca, 262. — Venetian palaces, 263. 
 
 LETTER XIX. 
 
 VENICE. 
 
 Gondolas, 265. — Santa Maria gloriosa de' Frari, 265. — Santi Giovanni e Paolo, 266. — S. 
 Stefano, 266. — Santa Maria del Carmine, 266. — San Zaccaria, 267. — Ducal palace, 267. — 
 San JacopoinRivo alto. 268. — Scuola diSan Rocco,269. — Procuratie Vecchie,269. — Zecca, 
 
 b 2 
 
xii 
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 270. — Procuratie Nuove, 270.— Campanile, 270— Loggia, 270.— Sansovino, 271.— Church 
 of San Martino, 271. — San Giorgio de'Greci, 271. — Church of San Francesco della Vigna, 
 
 271. — Redentore, 272.— St. George, 273.— S. Nicola de'Tolentini, 273.— San Pietro in 
 Castello, 274. — S. Simeon Piccolo, 274 — Santa Maria del Rosario, called Gesuati, 274. — 
 San Barnaba, 274. — Santa Maria della Salute, 274. — Santissimo Salvadore, 275. — Prigione 
 Nuove, 275. — Lions, 275. — Pictures, 276. — Painted outsides of houses, 277. 
 
 LETTER XX. 
 
 BOLOGNA. 
 
 Journey to Bologna, 278. — Residence at Bologna, 279. — Roman money, 279. — Paintings of 
 Bolognese school, 280. — Church of San Petronio, 280. — San Stefano, 282. — San Giacomo 
 maggiore, 283. — Cathedral, 283. — San Giorgio, 283. — San Salvadore, 284. — San Paolo, 
 
 284. — San Bartolommeo, 284. — San Domenico, 284. — Madonna del Monte, 284. — Portico, 
 
 285. — Certosa, 285. — Palazzo Ranuzzi, 285. — Torre degli Asinelli, 285. — Torre Garisendi, 
 285. — Disputations in Romish church, 286. — State of Italy, 286. — Superstition at Bologna, 
 291.— Mezzofanti, 292. 
 
 LETTER XXr. 
 
 FLORENCE. 
 
 Journey from Bologna, 294. — Vetturino system, 294. — Apennines, 294.— Italian time, 295. — 
 Florence, 295. — Cathedral, 295. — Different notions of antiquity, 299. — Campanile, 299. — 
 Baptistery, 299.— Church of Santa Croce, 300. — San Remigio, 301. — Santi Apostoli, 301. — 
 Unfinished fronts, 301. — Santa Maria Novella, 301.— San Lorenzo, 302. — Sagrestia nuova, 
 304.— M. A. Buonarroti, 304 — Burying-place of the Medici, 304.— Church of Santo 
 Spirito, 305.— Annunziata, 306. — Madonna del Carmine, 306. — St. Mark, 307.— Cose 
 stupende, 307.— Old nobility of Florence, 307. — Palazzo Vecchio, 308. — Loggia, 308. — 
 Gallery, 309.— Palazzo Pitti, 309.— Palazzo Riccardi, 309. — Palazzo Strozzi, 310.— Pa- 
 lazzo Pandolfini, 310. — Casa Michelozzi, 311. 
 
 LETTER XXII. 
 
 JOURNEY TO ROME. 
 
 Fiesole, 312.— Journey to Siena, 312.— Siena, 313.— Gutturals, 313.— Piazza, 313.— Cathe- 
 dral of Siena, 313. — Hospital, 315.— Church of San Domenico, 315. — History of Siena, 
 315. — Neighbourhood of Siena, 315. — Ventriloquist, 316. — Radicofani, 317. — Acquapen- 
 dente, 317. — Lake of Bolsena, 318. — Bolsena, 318. — Monte Fiascone, 319. — Orvieto, 
 319.— Cathedral, 319.— Bishop's palace, 321.— Church of San Michele, 322.— Church of 
 San Domenico, 322. — Church of San Lorenzo, 322, — Well of Sangallo, 322. Palazzo 
 Soliana, 322.— Pal. Gualtieri, 322.— Bollicame, 322.— Viterbo, 323.— Cathedral, 323.— 
 Church of the Triniti, 323.— S. Francesco, 323.— Monte Cimino, 323.— Lake of Vico, 
 
 323. — Capraruola, 323. — Church of the Teresiane, 324. — Ronciglione, 324. — Campagna, 
 
 324. — Sutri, 324.— Amphitheatre, 325. — Subterranean church, 325. — Bridge, 325.— Bac- 
 cano, 326. — Arrival at Rome, 326. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 xiii 
 
 LETTER XXIII. 
 
 ROMAN ANTIQUITIES. 
 
 General impressions, 327.— Capitol, 327. — Palatine hill, 328. — Disposition of hills, 329. — 
 Lodging, 330.— Steps of the Trinilii, 330.— Forum, 330.— Capitoline hill, 331.— Tabu- 
 lariura, 331. — Temple of Jupiter Tonans, 331. — Richness of detail in Roman architecture, 
 
 332. — Temple of Concord, 332 — Arch of Septimius Seveius, 333.— IVlamertine prisons, 
 
 333. — Column of Phocas, 334.— Temple of Saturn, 334.— Temple of Antoninus and 
 Faustina, 334. — Temple of Romulus and Remus, 33-5. — Jupiter Stator, 33.3. — Form of 
 shaft of the columns, 337. — Effect of slight variations, 337. — Temple of Peace, 338. — 
 Progress of architecture in Rome, 338. — Arch of Titus, 340. — Temple of Venus and 
 Rome, 341. — Coliseum, 341. — Arch of Constantine, 342. — Baths of Titus, 342. — Viva- 
 rium, 344. — Baths of Livia, 345. — Palace of the Cdesars, 345. 
 
 LETTER XXIV. 
 
 ROMAN ANTIQUITIES. 
 
 Temple of Romulus, 34G. — Forum Boarium, 340. — Arch of Janus, 347. Arch of the gold- 
 smiths, 347. — Cloaca maxima, 347. — Temple of Patrician Modesty, 348. — Temple of 
 Vesta, 348. — Foliage of the Corinthian capital, 349. — Greek and Roman styles of orna- 
 ment, 349. — Temple of Fortuna Virilis, 3-50. — House of Rienzi, 350. — Pons Palatinus, 
 350.— Temples of Filial Piety, &c. 350.— Theatre of Marcellus, 351.— Theatre of Pom- 
 pey, 351. — Portico of Octavia, 351.— Baths of Agrippa, 351. — Pantheon, 352. — Use of 
 bricks, 353. — Use of discharging arches, 353. — Pyramidal form in buildings, 354. — 
 Coffers on domes, 357. — Basilica of Antoninus, 3-59. 
 
 LETTER XXV. 
 ST. Peter's. 
 
 History of the building, 361.— Model, 362.— Expense, 365.— Cracks, 366.— Sacristy, 367. 
 — Cause of its want of apparent magnitude externally, 369. — Internally, 372. — Sculpture 
 in the church, 374. — Change of design from Greek to Latin cross, 377. — Gilding, 378. 
 — Effect of magnificence, 380. — Pieta of Michael Angelo, 380. — Monuments, 380. — 
 Mosaic, 381. 
 
 LETTER XXVI. 
 
 BASILICAN CHURCHES. 
 
 San Paolo fuori delle mura, 383.— Churches visited to obtain indulgences, 383. — Churches 
 which have the Porta santa, 383. — Patriarchal churches, 383. — Ancient basilica of St. Pe- 
 ter, 386. — St. John Lateran, 387. — Corsini chapel, 388. — Cloisters, 388. — Scala santa, 
 
 389. — Triclinium, 390. — Baptistery of Constantine, 390. — Santa Croce in Gerusalemme, 
 
 390. — Santa Maria in Trastevere, 391.— S. M. di Ara Coeli, 391.— San Grisogono, 392. — 
 
xiv 
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 Quattro santi, 393. — San Pietro in Vincolis, 393. — Figure of Moses, 394. — Santa Agnese 
 fuori delle mura, 394. — Temple of Bacchus, 395. — San Lorenzo fuori delle mura, 396. — 
 Santa Maria Maggiore, 397.— Chapels, 399.— Santa Sabina, 399.— St. Clement, 400.— 
 Small courts, 400.— San Martino de' Monti, 401.— Baths of Trajan, 401.— Santa Pu- 
 denziana, 401. — Santa Prassede, 402. — Santa Maria in Domnica, 402, — Marble boat, 402. 
 — San Giorgio in Velabro, 402. — Ancient towers, 402. 
 
 LETTER XXVII. 
 
 LIVING AT ROME — MODERN CHURCHES. 
 
 Roman life, 404. — Play at Orphan school, 407. — Carnival, 407. — Race, 408. — Festina, 
 409. — Display of military authority, 410. — Italian language, 410. — Climate, 411. — Roman 
 churches, 412.— Method of lighting, 413.— Church of S. Andrea, 414.— St. Ignazio, 415. 
 — Church of the Jesuits, 416. — Santi Apostoli, 417. — Santa Agnese in Piazza Navona, 
 417. — San Carlo alle quattro fontane, 417. — Sant Andrea del Noviziato, 418. — Santa 
 Maria di Consolazione, 418. — Three smaller churches, 418. — Santa Maria in Campi- 
 telli, 418. 
 
 LETTER XXVIII. 
 
 ROME. 
 
 Roman spring, 419. — Easter ceremonies, 419. — Benediction, 425. — Vatican palace, 426. — 
 Sistine chapel, 426. — Galleries of Vatican, 428. — A razzi of Raphael, 428. — Camere of 
 Raphael, 429. — Loggie of Raphael, 430. — Mode of considering paintings, 430. — Museum, 
 432. — Statues, 433. — Greek and Roman schools of art, 434. — Library, 436. — Omission 
 of cornice, 437. 
 
 LETTER XXIX. 
 
 PALACES OF ROME. 
 
 General observations, 438. — Campidoglio, 439. — Museum, 442. — Cancellaria, 443. — Palazzo 
 Giraud, 444. — Sora, 444. — Stoppani, 444. — Massimi, 445. — Farnesina, 445. — Architec- 
 ture of Sangallo, 446. — Palazzo Saccheti, 446. — Farnese, 446. — Competitions, 447. — 
 Architecture of Giulio Romano, 448. — Palazzo Cenci, 448. — Architecture of Vignola, 
 449.— Court of Palazzo Farnese, 449. — Church of Sant Andrea, 449. — Villa Giulia, 449. 
 — Palazzo Alessandrini, 450.— Ruspoli, 450. — Quirinale, 4-50. — Combination of colours, 
 451. — Horses of Phidias and Praxiteles, 452. — Palazzo della Consulta, 452. — Archi- 
 tecture of Fontana, 453. — Palace of St. John Lateran, 453. — Sapieiiza, 453. — Architecture 
 of Bernini, 454. — Palazzo della Propaganda, 454. — Ghigi, 454 — Barberini, 454. — Archi- 
 tecture of Borromini, 454. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 XV 
 
 LETTER XXX. 
 
 ROME. 
 
 Piazza di Spagna, 456. — Piazza del popolo, 456. — Public gardens, 457. — French academy 
 
 457. — Church of the Trinita de' Monti, 458. — Capuchin convent, 458. — Piazza Barberini, 
 
 458. — Quirinal hill, 459. — Viminal, 459. — Esquiline, 459. — Church of St. Antony, 459. — 
 Trophies of Marius, 459. — Arch of GaUienus, 459. — Temple of Pallas, 460. — Temple of 
 Mars Ultor, 460. — Baths of Paulus ^Emilius, 461. — Forum of Trajan, 461. — Column of 
 Trajan, 462. — Basilica of Trajan, 402. — Church of Nome di Maria, 463. — Church of 
 Santa Maria di Loreto, 463. — Effect of gilding, 463. — Sepulchre of C. P. Bibulus, 463. 
 — Colonna palace, 463. — Baths of Constantine, 464. — Enormous fragment, 464. — Fountain 
 of Trevi, 465. — Loggia of the Palazzo Rospigliosi, 465. 
 
1 
 
 LETTERS OF AN ARCHITECT. 
 
 LETTER I. 
 
 JOURNEY TO PARIS. 
 
 Paris, 16th April, 1816. 
 
 It is a great advantage to me that I can address letters on architecture 
 to a person for whose taste and judgment I have so much esteem, but 
 who at the same time is not an architect. Being obliged to avoid a 
 great many technical phrases and forms of speech, which often serve as 
 a convenient shelter for ignorance or superficial knowledge, I shall find 
 it necessary to study the subject jnyself more attentively on all those 
 points which can interest a general observer, and to explain myself with 
 more care and precision. 
 
 I shall not trouble you with any observations on English ground ; and 
 indeed, between London and Paris, the road is so well known, and so 
 often travelled, that it seems almost an impertinence to detain you on it, 
 except to examine the two magnificent cathedrals of Amiens and Beau- 
 vais ; yet there are some particulars on this frequented track which strike 
 an architect more than they would a general observer. 
 
 My bed-room at Calais, with its high ceiling and broad striped paper, 
 was very different from what one finds on your side of the water. The 
 bed is, almost every where in France, placed sideways against the wall. 
 It has head and foot boards, and the square uprights which support 
 them are terminated with a vase, or some such ornament, at least on that 
 side of the bed towards the apartment. Above, a pin with an orna- 
 mented head, whose projection from the wall is equal to the width 
 
 B 
 
2 
 
 CATHEDRAL OF AMIENS. 
 
 of the bed, supports a long curtain of white dimity, which falls in a 
 pleasing curve over the head and foot boards, and being of a considerable 
 width, may be drawn forward so as nearly to conceal the bed. This 
 arrangement certainly leaves the room much more at liberty than ours, 
 and looks better ; and as it is not considered any impropriety to receive 
 company in abed-room, these circumstances are of more consequence here 
 than in England ; yet they are desirable every where, and the only 
 disadvantage I perceive arises from the necessity of rolling out the bed- 
 stead in order to make the bed, an inconvenience apparently very trifling. 
 
 There are doubtless some peculiarities in the French towns, but on 
 the whole fewer than I expected : the principal are, perhaps, that the 
 houses are without parapets, and that they have dormer windows,* the 
 front of which is usually upright over the wall of the house, the eaves 
 being sometimes continued across, and sometimes omitted. There is no 
 flat paving for the footpaths, but the streets are not narrower, if so 
 narrow, as in the country towns in England. 
 
 Every body knows that the road from Calais to Boulogne is not 
 pleasant. About Boulogne the scenery is much more agreeable, as we 
 pass along a valley adorned with trees and hedges. There is, I am told, 
 a law that all proprietors shall plant the sides of the road which passes 
 by or through their grounds : unfortunately there is no law which com- 
 pels the trees to grow, and a green stake is thrust into the ground, 
 which may either live or die ; if the latter, it is very easy to thrust 
 in another the succeeding year. After passing the town of Samer, 
 about ten miles from Boulogne, we again ascended the chalk hills, and 
 had a most beautiful view, coloured with uncommon richness and splen- 
 dour, as the landscape faded under the shades of evening ; but I believe 
 the charm depended principally on this colouring. We continued our 
 journey through the night, and the next morning at eleven reached 
 Amiens. 
 
 You did not, I believe, when in France, see the cathedral of Amiens, 
 but you have heard of it, and of the beauty of its nave. The French 
 say, that to form a perfect cathedral you must unite the front of Rheims, 
 the spire of Chartres, the nave of Amiens, and the choir of Beauvais. 
 The parts would not combine very well, but I hope at a future time 
 
 * Windows in the roof. 
 
CATHEDRAL OF AMIENS. 
 
 3 
 
 to conduct you to all these edifices. The cathedral of Amiens was 
 founded by Bishop Everard, in order to provide a suitable depository 
 for the head of St. John the Baptist and the body of St. Firmin. The 
 former saint, according to Rivoire, (Description de I'Eglise Cathedrale 
 d' Amiens, p. 160) was beheaded in the prisons of the castle of Mache- 
 ronte, or of Sebaste, (i. e. of Samaria). The Emperor Valens endea- 
 voured in vain to transfer the head to Rome. Theodosius, more for- 
 tunate, brought it from the village of Cosilaon in Siberia, to enrich 
 Constantinople; but whereabouts this village is situated, or when, or 
 why, or how any part of St. John the Baptist travelled into Siberia, I have 
 not been able to learn. A gentleman of Picardy being present at the 
 assault of Constantinople, on the 12th of April, 1204, found among the 
 ruins of an old building, called the Palace of the Arsenal, two great 
 dishes of silver, in one of which was this head of the Baptist, and in the 
 other that of St. George, as was fully testified by their respective 
 inscriptions. The dishes were large and heavy, and the discoverer was 
 in want of money; he therefore sold them to pay his expenses, reserving, 
 however, two smaller vessels which immediately contained the sacred 
 relics. What became of the head of St. George we are not told, but that 
 of St. John was transported to Amiens, where it arrived on the 17th of 
 December, 1206, the clergy and people going out to receive it. The 
 record of this event bears date in March, 1210. The skull is not 
 entire, the back part being apparently deficient, and there is an ob- 
 long hole over the left eye, supposed to have been made by the knife 
 of Herodias. 
 
 After such a long account of one relic it would be unfair not to make 
 some mention of the other. The bones of St. Firmin had been discovered 
 some time before the acquisition of the head of St. John the Baptist, by 
 a miraculous ray of light which shone upon the spot where they were 
 buried ; and the authenticity of the relic was farther proved, not only by 
 a delightful and healing odour which arose from them, but also by a 
 supernatural warmth which dissolved the snow then upon the ground, 
 made the grass grow, and the trees put forth their leaves, and, in short, 
 turned winter into summer. 
 
 I have given you quite enough of these fables, let me now turn to facts 
 better authenticated. An old cathedral was destroyed by fire in 1218. 
 The foundations of the present edifice were laid in 1220, according to the 
 
 B 2 
 
4 
 
 CATHEDRAL OF AMIENS. 
 
 designs of Robert de Lusarche. Bishop Everard, the founder, died in 
 1222. The pillars of the choir and nave were completed in 1223 ; the 
 north transept was erected in 1236, GeofFry d' Eu being bishop. Robert 
 de Lusarche had, probably, died in the interim, as the architects, at the 
 latter period, were Thomas de Courmont, and Renault de Courmont, his 
 son. The vaulting of the nave and side aisles was completed under 
 Arnold, who governed the church of Amiens from 1236 to 1247 ; at the 
 same time a magnificent stone tower was erected over the centre of 
 the cross. This tower was entirely of open work, it was destroyed by 
 lightning in 1527, and the wooden spire, which at present exists, was 
 erected two years afterwards. The building, exclusive of the side 
 chapels, was completed in 1288, according to an inscription formerly 
 existing on the pavement, now no longer legible. The following dimen- 
 sions are from Rivoire, (p. 24) reduced to English measure. They are, 
 perhaps, not all of them perfectly exact, but I had not opportunity 
 to examine them minutely, and am not apprehensive of any material 
 
 error. 
 
 Feet. Inch. 
 
 Length of the front platform 153 5 
 
 Width of the central porch 38 4 
 
 Depth of ditto 170 
 
 Side porches, each in width 20 7 
 
 Depth of ditto 14 10 
 
 Width of each pier between the porches 9 7 
 
 Whole length of the front 160 
 
 From the portal to the gate of the choir 234 6 
 
 Length of the choir 138 Q 
 
 From the choir to the chapel at the end of the rond point . 19 2 
 
 Length of this chapel 50 1 
 
 Whole length internally 442 3 
 
 Ditto, externally 479 5 
 
 Width of the nave between the piers 45 6 
 
 From one chapel of the aisle to the opposite chapel . . .104 5 
 
 Length of the transept 194 
 
 Breadth of ditto ai^ 'r 
 
 Height from the bottom of the piers to the summit of the 
 vaulting 
 
CATHEDRAL OF AMIENS. 5 
 
 Feet. Inch. 
 
 The pavement to the springing of the arches 45 4 
 
 Thence to the moulding under the galleries 24 2 
 
 Thence to the frieze* 213 
 
 Thence to the vault 511 
 
 Height of the side aisles 64 
 
 Distance between the piers 170 
 
 Height of the spire from the ridge of the roof, including the ) 214 2f 
 
 cock ) 
 
 From the pavement 422 
 
 Slope of the roof 53 3 
 
 Perpendicular height of roof 46 10 
 
 Height of the choir 137 5 
 
 Breadth of ditto 45 6 
 
 Height of the aisles and side chapels 64 8 
 
 Lateral width of the chapels 28 9 
 
 Depth of ditto 28 10 
 
 Circumference of the dial of the clock 102 3 
 
 Diameter of ditto 34 1 
 
 Height of the figures 2 
 
 Distance which separates them 7 5 
 
 Height of the north tower 223 8 
 
 Height of the south tower 205 
 
 Number of steps to the top of the highest tower .... 306 
 
 Having thus given you a sketch of the principal dates and dimensions 
 of this magnificent edifice, I will endeavour to give you some idea of its 
 present appearance. A detailed account of all the parts would require a 
 residence of some weeks on the spot, but my object is rather to commu- 
 nicate the impression produced on the mind of the observer, and to 
 point out the leading sources of that impression, than to enter into mi- 
 nutiae. The distant view exhibits a great square mass of building, a 
 little varied by the slightly superior elevation of one of the western 
 towers, and by a very slender spire or pinnacle of wood rising from the 
 
 * I do not understand what is here meant by the frieze, and there appears to be some error, 
 since the sura of the heights, of the parts, is made rather to exceed the whole height. 
 
 t Rivoire gives his dimensions in feet and in metres, which in this instance do not agree. 
 I have, throughout, followed the metres. 
 
6 
 
 CATHEDRAL OF AMIENS. 
 
 centre to twice the general height. The ridge of the roof of York 
 Minster is 112 feet from the pavement. That of Salisbury Cathedral, 
 115 feet ; St. Paul's at London, 112 ; Westminster Abbey, 140 ; the ca- 
 thedral at Amiens, 208 feet. This comparison may help you to form some 
 idea of the appearance of the last mentioned edifice, towering above the 
 houses of a provincial city. What was the design of the original central 
 spire of open work in stone, and what was its height, it would be curious 
 to determine. Central towers of that date in England seem to have been 
 low and heavy, and if that of Norwich Cathedral be cited to the con- 
 trary, still it does not at all help us to form a judgment of what a spire 
 of open work would have been. The spire and the upper part of the 
 tower at Salisbury are thought to be of a more modern date. The 
 highest western tower is surmounted by one of those steep roofs which 
 still seem to have something attractive to French eyes, but which to 
 mine are absolute deformities. On approaching the edifice, the richness 
 of the western front is very striking. There is a certain similarity in the 
 disposition of this part in all the French churches of the thirteenth 
 century. The cathedrals of Amiens, of Notre Dame at Paris, and at 
 Rheims, are distinguished from our English buildings by nearly the 
 same particulars, though they differ much from each other. They as- 
 sume in this part more of a pyramidal form ; the space between the 
 western towers is proportionally smaller than with us. The doorways 
 are much larger ; a rose or marigold window is placed over the central 
 opening, and above that is one or more ranges of niches, with statues 
 nearly hiding the triangular gable end of the nave. Sometimes one, or 
 even two ranges of niches occur below the marigold window, as is the 
 case in the example before us. Sometimes the window is between two 
 ranges of niches, and in some instances there are two rose windows. 
 These windows and niches form the elements of the composition, but the 
 arrangement varies in almost every edifice. The division immediately 
 above the porch at Amiens is marked by a range of twenty-two niches, 
 containing as many statues, which are supposed to represent the kings of 
 France, from Charlemagne to Philip Augustus ; the latter died in 1223, 
 and this coincidence of his death with the sera of the building seems to 
 have been used by the modern antiquaries in assigning names to the 
 statues. The profusion of ornament in this front is not without its effect, 
 but we endeavour in vain to trace any simple principle of arrangement. 
 
CATHEDRAL OF AMIENS. 
 
 7 
 
 and a certain degree of confusion diminishes the pleasure which woukl 
 otherwise be felt. This objection is applicable more or less to the exter- 
 nal of all Gothic buildings, and the more the parts are multiplied the 
 more obvious it becomes : yet it is not a style of architecture which can 
 succeed without a considerable proportion of ornament, and perhaps even 
 of intricacy. On the inside of a Gothic edifice of the best periods, al- 
 though the parts are numerous, yet they all seem to arise from the mode 
 of construction, and to follow each other so naturally, that the eye and 
 mind are led from one to the other through the whole system. With the 
 outside the case is otherwise ; the form of no one part seems to depend 
 on that below it, but each might as well be surmounted by something 
 different as by that which really succeeds it. The ranges of arches in 
 these fronts have the effect of dividing the height of the composition 
 into horizontal bands, and there can be no doubt that in the pointed 
 architecture, the perpendicular lines should prevail over the horizontal. 
 I think that in the present instance these horizontal lines are less striking 
 in the building than in the usual engravings, perhaps because in reality 
 we have no point of view sufficiently distant to permit the eye to embrace 
 the whole composition. 
 
 I have a few more words to say on the outside of this cathedral. The 
 two towers are of unequal height ; the seat of the archbishop alone, ac- 
 cording to my usual guide, Rivoire,* was distinguished by two equal 
 towers, as is the case at Paris and at Rheims. In Turkey the privilege 
 of more than one tower is still restricted to the royal mosques, but I be- 
 lieve it is altogether the fancy of this author that any similar regulation 
 existed for the forms of Christian churches. 
 
 There are three doorways. This disposition, which is sometimes ob- 
 servable in our cathedrals, is very general in the larger religious edifices 
 of France. The middle, says Rivoire, was for the clergy, that on the 
 right for the men, that on the left for the women. The middle door at 
 Amiens is called that of the Saviour, because his image adorns the 
 pilaster at the meeting of the two leaves of the door, which here, and 
 very commonly elsewhere in France, divides the doorway into two parts. 
 The two sides, and the parts above, present a very elaborate composition, 
 representing, as is supposed, the Last Judgment. Mr. Rigollot, a mem- 
 ber of the Academy of Amiens, imagines that he traces in it the preva- 
 
 * Page 42. 
 
8 
 
 CATHEDRAL OF AMIENS. 
 
 lence of the superstitions of Sabeism, and has given a description wherein 
 he corrects some errors and inaccuracies of Rivoire ; and a very ingenious, 
 and I think in general satisfactory, elucidation of his own opinion. The 
 right, or southern doorway is called that of the Mother of God, the image 
 of the Virgin Mary being in a similar manner placed in the middle. 
 That on the north is distinguished by the statue and name of St. Firmin, 
 to whom the cathedral is dedicated. The latter doorway is farther re- 
 markable by the twelve signs of the zodiac, which are sculptured on it, 
 with the rural labours of the corresponding months of the year. It ex- 
 hibits also fourteen figures of saints, of which St. Firmin and St. Diony- 
 sius are represented carrying their heads in their hands. Was it not St. 
 Severinus who not only took his head in his hand after he had been de- 
 capitated, but actually walked with it to the altar, and participated in the 
 holy communion ? 
 
 On entering the church one is immediately struck by a fine appearance 
 of space and airiness. This is partly owing to the great dimensions ; 
 the nave is 10 feet wider, and above 50 feet higher than that of Salisbury 
 Cathedral. The side aisles at Salisbury are only 38 feet high. Those at 
 Amiens are 64 ; and this I have no doubt also contributes greatly to the 
 impression of superior magnificence. In length the French cathedrals 
 are generally inferior to ours, but they are without screens, and the 
 whole extent presents itself at once to the eye of the spectator. A range 
 of side chapels, corresponding with the divisions of the side aisles, is also 
 a noble feature which we have not in any English building, or have it 
 only very imperfectly in Chichester Cathedral. 
 
 These dimensions and comparisons may perhaps assist your imagina- 
 tion in forming an idea of the building, but it is impossible to commu- 
 nicate the feelings produced by the first view of its interior. It not only 
 far surpassed my expectations, but possessed a character and expression 
 quite new to me. In our English cathedrals the eye is confined to one 
 avenue, and the sublime effect is nearly limited to the view along it. 
 Here the sight seems to penetrate in all directions, and to obtain a 
 number of views, all indeed subordinate to the principal one, but all 
 beautiful, and offering, by the different position of the parts with regard 
 to the spectator, the greatest variety. I sat down for some time to enjoy 
 this sublime scene, and then paced slowly up the nave, as far as the in- 
 tersection of the cross, where my attention Vv^as arrested by the beautiful 
 
CATHEDRAL OF AMIENS. 
 
 9 
 
 rose window at each end of the transept. Without seeing them one 
 can form no idea of how much beauty a rose window is capable ; the 
 splendid colouring of the glass, glowing among the rich tracery, has a bril- 
 liancy and magnificence for which I can cite to you no parallel in England. 
 
 On the rise of the Italian school of architecture the preceding style, 
 which then received the appellation of Gothic, was reproached as heavy, 
 dark, gloomy, and void of simplicity. Nothing can be more unjust than 
 this censure. In its interiors, on the contrary, it offers the greatest sim- 
 plicity and harmony ; not entirely free from defects, and occasionally 
 exhibiting traces of the rude age in which it flourished, but bearing these 
 as slight blemishes on a beautiful face. It is extremely light, as opposed 
 to heavy, for no style of building performs, or appears to perform so 
 much with so little material ; and the blaze of daylight from its numerous 
 and spacious windows is insufferable, when not corrected by the deeply 
 coloured glass, and even by its coarse joinings. These rose windows, 
 brilliant as they are when seen from below, I found, on nearer inspection, 
 to be divided by very Avide strips of lead, and these again had collected 
 about them a quantity of dust, which still fiirther obscured the light, but 
 all this was lost in the general splendour of the effect as seen from below. 
 These two large roses of the transept open into a square space under- 
 neath them, so that, strictly speaking, they are not rose windows, but 
 merely rose-headed. The circle, however, occupies so large a portion, 
 and the remainder is comparatively so insignificant, that we must be per- 
 mitted to call them rose windows. That of the nave comprises only the 
 circle. The design of the tracery is, probably, somewhat later than that 
 of the building ; at least, in England we should attribute it nearly to the 
 middle of the fourteenth century, here we know enough of the building 
 to assign it with confidence to the thirteenth. Those of the transept I 
 judge to be later still, chiefly on account of their union with the window 
 below. The western rose has become internally the dial of the clock; 
 the figures denoting the hours are more than seven feet apart, and the 
 hour hand moves nearly an inch and a half in a minute. In that of the 
 northern transept we find the pentalpha, a form to which some persons 
 imagine a mysterious meaning to be attached. The same arrangement 
 which prevails in the nave is continued in the choir, only the outer aisle 
 being no longer divided into chapels, there is a double side aisle con- 
 tinued from the transept to the polygonal end of the building ; to this 
 
 c 
 
10 
 
 CATHEDRAL OF AMIENS. 
 
 part chapels are again attached, presenting five sides of an octagon. The 
 ladies' chapel, in the centre, is lengthened, but terminates in the same 
 manner. 
 
 In the French Gothic there is no moulding along the ridges of the 
 vault, except, and that rarely, in some of the latest edifices. This mould- 
 ing, in drawings of English buildings, is generally represented as a 
 straight line, but does, in fact, usually form a crooked one, descending to 
 the direct arch, and rising to the intersection of the groins. In the French 
 buildings this mode of construction is much more evident than with us, 
 the intersection of the groins being always considerably higher than the 
 point of the direct arch, and sometimes so much so, for instance, in the 
 church of St. Germain des Pres, in Paris, as to form almost a portion of 
 a dome. In some of the late Gothic examples I think I have seen ex- 
 actly the reverse take place, and the point of the direct arch made the 
 highest in the vaulting. 
 
 It is totally impossible that any style of building should be peculiarly 
 calculated for a particular set of opinions. Some Protestant writers 
 attribute to Gothic architecture a mysterious connexion wdth the Roman 
 Catholic religion, and, indeed, seem to think that all magnificent churches 
 have a tendency to support that system. Such an opinion does not de- 
 serve consideration, but it is certainly true, that some buildings are cal- 
 culated to excite emotions favourable to religious impressions, to produce 
 a serious frame of mind, and one in which we are more inclined to 
 acknowledge the present existence of superior power, and more ready to 
 submit to the influence of this conviction. Such means of excitement 
 are liable to abuse, and no person can remain long in these edifices, and 
 observe what passes before him, without being made sensible of the 
 power they possess by the degree to which it is abused. But as this 
 abuse is by no means a necessary attendant on the use, it is not a 
 fair argument against it. Mankind in general, at least in France and 
 England, are dull and sluggish in the affairs of religion ; they find it 
 difficult to detach their thoughts sufficiently from worldly affairs. It is 
 desirable, therefore, that every help should be given them, for in this, as 
 in every other good object, human means are to be used, when they are 
 put within our reach. A place of worship should, therefore, in the first 
 place, possess in its style and decoration, a decidedly different appearance 
 from a common dwelling-house : this tends to break the associations with 
 
CATHEDRAL OF AMIENS. 11 
 t 
 
 the every day employments of life, and gradually to form new associa- 
 tions with the objects of religion, which become of considerable impor- 
 tance in the government of the attention. A merchant, on entering his 
 counting-house, is more strongly led to think of ships and commerce, than 
 on coming into a dining-room. Secondly, a place of worship should pos- 
 sess a decided character of power and sublimity : if from the conditions 
 of our nature any style of building is calculated to induce serious feel- 
 ings, that style is fitted for a church. In the third place, if any style be 
 already connected in our imagination with the duties of religion, it is 
 fitter for the purpose than one, which having equally the two former qua- 
 lifications, is deficient in the latter. These considerations point out the 
 Gothic architecture as preferable to every other, for the churches of our 
 own country ; but it would not be at all necessary, in the erection of new 
 structures, to retain the awkward arrangement usually found in a parish 
 church. 
 
 I have already observed that the chapels at Amiens arc not coeval 
 with the building, but some of them are very little posterior. They are 
 said to have originated from the following circumstance. In the year 
 1244, Geoffroi de Milly, great bailiff of Amiens, hung five clerks, or 
 scholars, without any legal process, because they were accused by his 
 daughter of an assault on her person. It is uncertain whether they were 
 really guilty, or whether, having surprised her in too close conference 
 with her lover, she accused them in order to invalidate their testimony 
 against herself. The bishop, indignant at this wanton abuse of power, 
 after examining the circumstances, pronounced the following severe 
 sentence, and though it must be confessed that the bailiff had fully me- 
 rited it, yet it seems astonishing that so galling a penance could be 
 strictly performed, which we are told was the fact. Geoffroi was to be 
 conducted on the following Saturday after dinner and before vespers, i. e. 
 between one and two o'clock, with his arms and feet naked, a halter round 
 his neck, and his hands tied behind him, in the manner usually practised 
 towards felons, from the place called Malmaison to the gallows ; and 
 after reposing there a little while he was to be reconducted as far as the 
 church of St. Montau, at which place his hands being untied, the body 
 of one of the said five clerks, with a cloth of fine linen, was to be de- 
 livered to him, and he was to carry it to the Mother Church, and thence 
 to the burying ground of St. Dionysius, and afterwards, in the four fol- 
 
 c 2 
 
12 CATHEDRAL OF AMIENS. 
 
 lowing- days to carry the other four*bodies in the same manner, first to 
 the Mother Church, and then to the Cemetery. Moreover, he was di- 
 rected to appear at the cathedral at Rheims, at the other churches of the 
 diocese, and at the churches of Rouen, Paris, and Orleans, and to at- 
 tend the processions on one Sunday, or feast day, at each, with his arms 
 and feet naked, his hands tied behind him, and without any thing to 
 shelter him from being fully seen, and at each place, during the proces- 
 sion, the sentence of his condemnation was to be read. Moreover, he 
 was to swear never to hold any office conveying jurisdiction, and to sub- 
 mit himself in all particulars to the sentence of the bishop, and to perform 
 all that it enjoined within the time prescribed, and to bring back with 
 him certificates from each place of his having done so. Moreover, he 
 was to provide five basins of silver, each weighing five marks, in which 
 were to be five wax candles, each weighing three pounds. These were to 
 be kept constantly burning in the church at Amiens, and the criminal had 
 to provide funds in perpetuity. Nor was this all ; the day after the feast 
 of " Monsieur St. Jean Baptiste," he was enjoined to take a journey to 
 the Holy Land, and never to return to Amiens, without the consent of 
 the bishop and chapter. Not content with thus punishing the bailiff, 
 the bishop issued a decree against the mayor and aldermen (echevins) of 
 Amiens, for having permitted the bailiff to proceed to such extremities 
 against the five clerks, condemning them, under penalty of a thousand 
 marks of silver, to found six chapels, and to appoint to each a rent of 
 twenty Parisian livres, and in consequence of this decree were founded the 
 first chapels of this church. Before quitting the nave I must point out 
 two monuments too interesting to pass unnoticed, though such objects 
 do not come within my general plan, except as they afford examples of ar- 
 chitecture. They are on the right and left of the western doorway, and 
 represent, in brass figures of the size of life, bishop Everard, the founder 
 of the church, and Bertrand D'Abbeville, who completed it. They Avere 
 originally placed in the midst of the nave, but were transferred in 1762 
 to their present position. On the pavement of the church is a labyrinth, 
 indicated by the arrangement of black and white stones which compose 
 it. Such an ornament occurs in many French churches. I do not know 
 if it had any mysterious meaning. 
 
 Finding myself very cold while making my sketches, I walked round 
 the church, through the galleries, and in the roof. The latter is very 
 
CATHEDRAL OP AMIENS. 
 
 13 
 
 well constructed, three braces resting at different heights on each side 
 of the king-post, exemplifies the origin of an English word for that part, 
 roof-tree. 
 
 / 
 
 / / 1 
 
 1 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 The timbers are generally small, but they are well disposed and well put 
 together. They are said to be of chesnut, a statement still more general 
 in France than in England as to the timber of old buildings, but I have 
 no proof that it is not oak. The rafters are laid flatwise ; the laying 
 them edgewise is an improvement of modern date in England, and has 
 not yet got into general use in France. The tie-beam is placed several 
 feet above the vaulting. The central spire is also said to be of chesnut. 
 It is well built, but the ornaments, which look sharp, and accurately de- 
 fined, from below, appear round and clumsy when close to the eye. One 
 may walk also on the outside over the roofs of the side aisles and chapels, 
 among the flying buttresses, and behind the statues of the front gallery. 
 
 I found a very fine point for an external view of the cathedral in the 
 garden of the Palais de Justice, but the cold and snow interrupted me. 
 The palace seems now to be a school. Soon after I entered the garden, 
 the maid-servant came in, in order to drive out the boys. They were 
 quite as untractable as English boys usually are under the same autho- 
 rity, but after some quarrelling she gave one as loud a box on the ear as 
 I ever heard ; it rung through the court, and echoed from the ruins of a 
 neighbouring monastery. One of them hid himself behind a tree, and 
 after the danger was over, came out to tell me that he was very fond of 
 drawing, that they had a drawing-master in the school, that they did 
 little but draw, and that the master would not let them use compasses. 
 
14 
 
 CATHEDRAL OF BEAUVAIS. 
 
 but sometimes allowed them to measure. I objected to the latter liberty. 
 " Ah Monsieur, vous savez que quand on commence jV dessiner, on ne 
 peut pas juger des mesures." '^Mais pour vous/' I replied, "qui dessinez 
 bien ?" " Ah pour moi qui dessine bien, ce n'est pas permis, il me gron- 
 deroit bien s il trouvoit que je mesurois quelque chose." 
 
 I stayed at Amiens the whole of the 13th of April, dining at the 
 table d'Hote, and accustoming myself to French language and French 
 manners. The salle-u-manger was ornamented with a paper which seems 
 very common at the inns, representing the principal buildings of Paris, 
 not badly executed. Although the room is about forty feet long, there 
 is no repetition of the pattern ; you may easily conceive that an immense 
 number of blocks must have been used. Indeed, I was once told by a 
 paper-hanger in London, that he had seen papers in England which were 
 executed by means of 150 blocks, and that he used to think that a very 
 great number ; but going afterwards to Paris, he had there seen some 
 which required two thousand five hundred. My landlady conducted me 
 into another room, where she shewed me the representation of a chase, in 
 which both the forms and the colouring were really very good, and into a 
 third, which was adorned with the history of Cupid and Psyche. I do 
 not say the execution was such as you would be satisfied with in a paint- 
 ing, but yet all the parts were expressed with a considerable degree of 
 truth and accuracy, the groups were well disposed, and the light well 
 managed. 
 
 About noon, on the fourteenth, I again found a place in the cabriolet 
 of the diligence, and proceeded to Beauvais, snow falling almost all the 
 time. It was dusk when we arrived there ; and the high, black mass of 
 the choir rising above the houses of the town, all covered with snow, did 
 not prepossess me in favour of the building. During the night the 
 thermometer sunk to 25° of Fahrenheit, and the next morning was exces- 
 sively cold, with frequent showers. Before reaching the cathedral, I 
 inquired at a bookseller's shop for some account of it. He had no such 
 work, but shewed me a history of the town, " publiee sur la demande de 
 Monsieur le Maire de Beauvais, et aux frais de la ville." On looking over 
 it I found little to answer my purpose, and begged permission to copy a 
 few lines which might perhaps be useful to me. He most politely begged 
 me to take the book, and keep it as long as I wanted it. I observed an 
 account of the church of St. Etienne, said to be of very high antiquity. 
 
CATHEDRAL OF BEAUVAIS. 
 
 15 
 
 and the bookseller pointed out to me the description of an image, which, 
 he assured me, had been a pagan idol : " Et comment, monsieur," said I, 
 " peut on s'assurer de la grande antiquite de cette statue?" " Eh," 
 replied he, " vous le trouverez dans les commentaires de Cesar." This 
 was said with the greatest air of science imaginable. 
 
 On approaching the cathedral I was surprised at the richness and 
 beauty of the external decoration. Seen from the south-east, it is much 
 superior in this respect to Amiens, because the ornaments and their 
 disposition are more dependent on each other, and seem more connected 
 with the construction of the building. There are two ranges of pinnacles 
 on the buttresses of the choir. Those of the inner range are slender, 
 and carried up nearly as high as the walls of the clerestory. The outer 
 are lower, and of more solid proportion ; both ranges are ornamented, 
 and their effect is very rich and magnificent. The " portal," using this 
 word to include the end of the transept, is of late date, and very much 
 ornamented. The entrances are, you know, at the ends of the transepts, 
 the nave never having been erected ; and here again, on entering the 
 church, the great window, with its splendid rose, terminating the vista, 
 displays all its beauties. Passing down the centre, the view of the 
 choir is really sublime ; and the slender columns, the triple range of 
 windows, and the loftiness of the upper ones, have an appearance almost 
 supernatural. It is considerably higher than that at Amiens; and to 
 judge by the eye, I should say that the ridge of the vaulting does not 
 fall short of a hundred and sixty feet, but I do not think it on that 
 account to be preferred. The columns at Beauvais are too slender, the 
 arches between them too narrow, and the vault too high. Every qua- 
 lity is carried to excess. If the nave were built, the height would not 
 appear so disproportionate ; but it would still be too great, and the 
 want of proportionate width would be more conspicuous. Another 
 important objection is in the groining of the roof, which is too com- 
 plicated. In a common groin one vault crosses another at right angles : 
 in this instance two smaller vaults cross the principal one obliquely ; 
 we have therefore three vaults crossing each other in the same point ; 
 or, perhaps it would be better to say, that six vaults meet in one point. 
 There are dates on some of the arches of the transept of 1575, 1577, 
 1578, 1580. This mode of construction was certainly introduced much 
 earlier, but I do not know precisely at what period. In England, I 
 
16 
 
 CATHEDRAL OF BEAUVAIS- 
 
 think we find a similar construction in part of Canterbury Cathedral ; 
 and it is represented, but not very clearly, in Britton's work on that 
 edifice, pi. 1 7. The pillars of the choir are alternately larger and smaller, 
 which renders it probable that the disposition of the vaulting was con- 
 templated at the time of the foundation of the church. It has been 
 suspected that these intermediate piers are posterior to the design of the 
 building, but this does not appear to me to be the case. Whittington 
 says that this roof fell down in 1802 ; whence could have arisen such an 
 error ? 
 
 The transept is furnished with side aisles, which are not so high as 
 those of the choir. The choir has at its commencement a double range 
 of side aisles, an arrangement productive of great beauty. The pillars 
 of the choir are formed by small shafts, attached to a circular pier. In 
 those of the transept the smaller shafts are united by curved lines to the 
 principal shaft, so that each pillar on the plan is bounded by an undu- 
 lating line, without any angle. Even in the earlier part the bases are 
 more capricious than at Amiens ; the pillars themselves are more slender, 
 the capitals less distinct : all of which are proofs of its erection posterior 
 to that cathedral. 
 
 I have still to state a few dates of this building. The foundations 
 were laid in 991, by Yiewd, fortieth bishop of Beauvais, but nothing of 
 this construction remains to give any character to the present work ; the 
 roof and vaults were burnt in 1225. In 1284 the great arches of the 
 choir fell down, and mass could not be said for forty years ; and this 
 perhaps may give us the era of the present choir, i. e. about 1324. Yet 
 there are fragments undoubtedly of an older edifice ; as, for example, at 
 each end of the aisles of the transept, where there is a small wheel 
 window. The transept was not begun till 1500. It was finished, 
 with a central tower which rose to the height of four hundred and 
 seventy-five feet. If this account be correct, it appears rather remark- 
 able that the transept should contain no trace of Roman architecture. 
 The Chateau de Gaillon, in Paris, begun in 1490, and finished in 1500, 
 contains ample evidence of the introduction of that style, though it still 
 retains much of the Gothic in the ornaments and their arrangement. 
 There are, however, I believe, other buildings in France of the early 
 part of the sixteenth century, perfectly Gothic. 
 
 My observations in the cathedral were interrupted by the office, and, as 
 
CHURCH OF ST. STEPHEN. 
 
 17 
 
 it was the first opportunity I have had of witnessing these ceremonies, I 
 stayed to see what was going forward, paying half a sol for my chair. 
 Each individual crosses himself on entrance. This, the use of holy water, 
 and the bowing to the altar, seem very ridiculous to a Protestant, The 
 first and last may be thought to announce, for the moment at least, 
 attention to sacred things, but it would be difficult to assign any rational 
 motive for the introduction of the holy water. Historically, it may, 
 perhaps, be deduced as a symbol of purification from sin, but in the 
 actual practice such an application appears absurd. I saw some water 
 prepared and consecrated at Amiens, but the ceremony is not very 
 impressive ; and neither there nor at Beauvais did the dress of the 
 officiating priests appear to me either dignified or graceful. The kneeling 
 of the congregation consists in this : that each person turns the back of 
 the chair from him; and tipping it a little, places one or both knees 
 against the seat. In one not previously seated, the change of position 
 is hardly observable. 
 
 The oldest fragment in Beauvais is a part of the ancient church of 
 Notre Dame de Basse CEuvre. The east end presents a pretty large 
 circular-headed window, with a flat, broad reticulated ornament round it 
 in low relief, and some imperfect figures above. A portion of cornice, 
 with the billeted moulding, also remains, and a few of the side arches, 
 the whole being but a portion of the ancient nave. A floor has been 
 inserted internally, to make it suitable for a magazine of wood, and the 
 whole strengthened with brick piers. I can readily believe it to have 
 been erected early in the eleventh century, or perhaps in the tenth, 
 before the full development of the Norman style of architecture ; but there 
 is too little of it, and it is in too damaged a condition, to be of great 
 interest. The work already mentioned assures us that it was erected in 
 the third century, and that one of the existing figures was a pagan idol, 
 as proved by its nakedness. 
 
 The church of St. Stephen is also very ancient, and it is far more 
 perfect than Notre Dame de Basse (Euvre. It is said to have been 
 erected or restored by St. Firmin in 997, but I suspect that this is too 
 early for any part of the present design. The western front presents 
 fragments of about the year 1200, but sadly injured during the revolution. 
 The sides are adorned with a range of very little arches, forming, not an 
 arcade, but an ornament under the cornice ; a few of them, however, rest 
 
 D 
 
18 
 
 JOURNEY TO PARIS. 
 
 on slender shafts. This, I apprehend, is somewhat more ancient. The 
 northern end of the transept has three semicircular-headed windows: 
 the southern has two, and over them a fine wheel window, with figures 
 representing the wheel of fortune ; the gable is ornamented with inter- 
 lacing rods of stone. There is also a fine Norman doorway on the north 
 side. Internally the nave appears to have undergone no considerable 
 alteration since its erection. The pillars are formed of square piers, with 
 four large semi-elipsoid shafts attached, and four smaller cylindrical ones, 
 nearly detached. The bases are attic, but of a form which indicates the 
 beginning of the Gothic taste in that particular; and perhaps we may 
 say that the whole, both inside and out, announces an erection of about 
 the middle of the twelfth century. There were, I apprehend, no pointed 
 arches in the original edifice. The transept is of mixed architecture, 
 and the choir is of a late style. Its vaulting bears date 1548, but the 
 design of this part must be attributed to the fifteenth century. 
 
 There are several other fragments in Beauvais. Two ancient towers, 
 at the entrance of the episcopal palace, with high French roofs, and 
 two Norman towers behind. Four Saxon arches, opposite the flank of 
 the palace, have belonged to some richly ornamented building ; and 
 there is some mixed construction in the ancient walls. Parts of these 
 are said to be of the fourth century, but internal evidence of this is 
 wanting. 
 
 The soil about Beauvais is chalky, divided by small, narrow valleys, 
 with steep sides, which afford situations for the vines : the little hill of 
 Ste. Symphorienne, just out of the town, presents a very good view of it. 
 The stumps of the vines rise about a foot from the ground ; the poles 
 were disposed in conical heaps, much as our hop -poles are, but the vine- 
 poles are shorter. In some of the orchards, which are abundant, there 
 are gooseberry bushes among the larger fruit trees, and these are the 
 only things which look green. In the evening I again found a seat in 
 the cabriolet of the diligence, and arrived at Paris about nine o'clock 
 this morning. I have established myself in a small room in the Hotel 
 du Phot, Rue du Phot ; for which I am to pay forty francs per month, 
 and two francs per month to Francois, who makes the bed, cleans the 
 room, blacks shoes, brushes coats, and, in short, performs the united 
 services of valet and chambermaid. The situation is pleasant, but rather 
 too much out of town. 
 
19 
 
 LETTER II. 
 
 GENERAL ACCOUNT OF PARIS. 
 
 Paris, April, 1816. 
 
 In my last I conducted you, among the intricacies of Gothic architec- 
 ture, to Paris. I have now to tell you what I have seen in this city, 
 and in two or three places, at no great distance, which I have visited ; 
 but before I plunge again into the uncertainties of dates, and the 
 mysteries of round and pointed arches, zigzag ornaments, and trefoils, I 
 am disposed to send you some general observations on Paris and its 
 vicinity, at the risk of repeating what you have heard or read twenty 
 times before ; and I will begin by a little of the internal domestic archi- 
 tecture, exemplified in my own bedroom, which I have had plenty of 
 time and opportunity to examine, and which I find to correspond with 
 what I have generally observed elsewhere. In the first place, the rooms 
 are usually papered ; and it is very rarely that one sees the lower part 
 of wainscot, or with a dado. It is indeed sometimes papered in a 
 different manner, and with horizontal stripes about three feet from the 
 floor, to indicate surbase mouldings. The floors are of hexagonal tiles, 
 waxed and rubbed, in order to give them a sort of polished surface. 
 We see no lofty double chests of drawers, but all are of a height to serve 
 also as tables, and they are almost universally covered with a marble 
 slab. This is a very handsome arrangement, as the polished stone always 
 looks neat and clean, and it is not injured by a little water accidentally 
 spilt upon it. There is frequently a column at each front angle, and 
 the upper drawer advancing a little before the others, forms an archi- 
 trave, the whole face of which draws out. The bed I have before 
 described to you. There is no shelf over the chimney, but generally a 
 looking-glass, and frequently a picture. The chamber which I occupy has 
 an open fireplace for burning wood, but a more usual arrangement is to 
 have a large stove, cased with glazed tiles, within the room, which com- 
 municates a moderate but lasting warmth at a small expense of fuel. My 
 window looks out into a little garden, and I am almost close to the Boule- 
 vards on the one hand, and to the garden of the Tuilleries and the Champs 
 
 D 2 
 
20 
 
 GENERAL ACCOUNT OF PARIS. 
 
 Elysees, on the other. The plan of these boulevards is a noble con- 
 ception, and one of the proudest monuments of useful magnificence that 
 Paris has to boast. They form a wide street, or rather avenue, lined 
 with trees, round the oldest and most thickly inhabited parts of the town, 
 introducing the country into the city, and providing both for the health 
 and pleasure of its inhabitants. They seem to have been originally 
 planned to surround, and not to divide the city. Those on the north 
 side were cleared and planted in 1660; on the south, not till 1760. 
 They form a pleasant promenade, though not every where equally so, 
 and they are within the reach of a short walk for all the inhabitants of 
 Paris. Places of public entertainment abound, as you may suppose, in 
 this circuit ; theatres, coffee-houses, restaurateurs, hotels ; indeed, such 
 places are very numerous throughout Paris. The guide books tell you 
 that it contains 3,000 hotels, 2,000 restaurateurs, 4,000 coffee-houses. 
 The estaminets (pot-houses) are very frequent, and wine and spirit shops 
 almost without number. Add to these the traiteurs, patissiers, confiseurs, 
 and epiciers, and you may imagine that Paris is not a place to starve in. 
 In one of my rambles I amused myself, for some distance, with counting 
 the number of houses appropriated to these purposes, and found more 
 than every other applied to one or the other of them. 
 
 The garden of the Tuilleries consists of straight walks, in avenues of 
 lime and horsechesnut trees, cut into regular forms. There are beds of 
 flowers near the palace, and in the summer it is further ornamented 
 with rows of fine orange trees. The Champs Elysees is a less ornamented 
 continuation of the same system. Between the two is a large open space 
 called, originally, the Place of Louis Quinze, afterwards of Concord, and 
 of the Revolution ; to the south of this one may see, over the Seine, the 
 magnificent portico of the Chamber of Deputies, and to the north, the 
 beginnings of an edifice which was to have been the Temple of Glory, but 
 what its future name will be is very uncertain. Nearer is the Garde 
 Meuble, a building intended to surpass the celebrated facjade of the 
 Louvre. It is very beautiful, but why the architect has not fully suc- 
 ceeded I shall endeavour to explain at a future time. A fine avenue, 
 bounded by a double range of trees, continues from the Elysian Fields to 
 the Barriere de Neuilly, and thus we have a straight line from this bar- 
 ri^re (begun on a magnificent scale, but not yet completed) to the front 
 of the Tuilleries, which, if mere length could produce the impression. 
 
GENERAL ACCOUNT OF PARIS. 
 
 21 
 
 would certainly be very magnificent. To a certain degree it is so, and 
 the elevation of the ground, towards the barriere, is very favourable to it, 
 but the grandeur is not in proportion to the apparent effort. 
 
 However pretty the winding walks of our English gardens may be, 
 they are not at all suited for a place of public resort, where any impres- 
 sion of magnificence is intended. They never show the people, which is 
 a point of great consequence. The disposition of the objects in straight 
 lines, has in itself an imposing, or to use a term more English, an impres- 
 sive effect, but this has its limits, and I suspect not very extended ones. 
 The too great length of the line makes the individual parts appear little, 
 and the mind is not satisfied with the general impression of sublimity, 
 unless it find the character supported by the objects in its immediate 
 neighbourhood. Beyond a certain point almost any additional length is 
 nearly lost, and, in proceeding along it, we feel its want of variety, with- 
 out any compensation. I am persuaded that, if a man were placed at 
 the point where two narrow avenues meet, one of them a mile in length, 
 and the other two, he would not readily distinguish the difference. By 
 extending the line too much, also, in places of public resort, it becomes 
 impossible to fill it with people, and this deficiency is more sensible than 
 the length of the avenue. 
 
 One of my first employments at Paris was to ramble over it and take 
 a general view of the city. I crossed the Seine at the Pont Louis Quinze, 
 and walked along the noble quays as far as the Island, admiring, on the 
 opposite side, the vast extent of the united palaces of the Tuilleries 
 and Louvre, which, whatever may be the defects and incongruities of 
 their architecture, must always, from their long continued lines, commu- 
 nicate to a stranger the idea of great magnificence. The quays them- 
 selves are also an object well worthy of attention, they form a wide 
 street on each side of the river, which is embanked in stone throughout 
 its whole course, in Paris ; and whether I looked up the river, towards the 
 Pont Neuf and Notre Dame, or downwards, to the Chamber of Deputies, 
 the Pont Louis Seize, the Champs Elysees, and Mount Valerian, I had 
 always a noble scene before me. The narrow quays and crowded shores 
 of the Thames, in London, do not permit any scene of this sort. The 
 completion of this design is due to Bonaparte, and it certainly is an 
 honour to him. Some writers have complained of the want of variety, and 
 that the Parisians are thus shut out from the natural banks of the river. 
 
22 
 
 GENERAL ACCOUNT OF PARIS. 
 
 but the natural banks of a river, running through a city, are merely mud 
 and rubbish. 
 
 I continued my walk to Notre Dame, and afterwards, returning to the 
 south shore, proceeded to the Jardin des Plantes, or du Roi, as you please. 
 I then crossed the Pont Austerlitz, one of the new bridges built by 
 Bonaparte. This is of iron, as is also the Pont des Arts, or du Louvre, 
 but the latter is for foot passengers only. The Parisians boast of their 
 bridges, but without great reason ; this Pont d' Austerlitz is fine for an 
 iron bridge ;* the Pont Neuf has little pretension to beauty ; the Pont 
 des Arts is a light, not to say a slight construction of iron, for foot 
 passengers ; the Pont Royal is a well-constructed bridge, but hardly a 
 handsome one; the Pont d' Jena is a caricature of flat elliptical arches, 
 and apparent lightness ; and its merit is confined to some ingenuity in 
 the construction, in order to obtain this effect ; which, nevertheless, is 
 certainly a blemish. Nothing is of more importance in a bridge than an 
 appearance of solidity. 
 
 In this tour I did not by any means confine myself to a direct course, 
 but turned off to the right or the left, if I saw any building of more con- 
 sequence than ordinary, or if the ancient aspect of the houses near gave 
 me reason to consider the general character of the street deserving of 
 notice. 
 
 The streets on the south side of the river, within the ancient walls, are, 
 I think, still more narrow and winding than those on the north. But all 
 Paris abounds with crooked dirty lanes. We complain of the obscure 
 situation of many of the principal buildings in London ; nothing can be 
 worse placed than some of those in Paris. However detrimental this 
 may be to the appearance of the building, considered individually, I do 
 not know whether it may not, occasionally, heighten the general impres- 
 sion of magnificence. The apparent waste of architecture gives an idea 
 that the means are abundant, and that the objects have been produced 
 without effort ; and the notion of painful exertion is always highly preju- 
 dicial to the sentiment of sublimity. 
 
 The Palais Royal is an immense building, inclosing a large court, or 
 garden, containing not only shops, but splendid coffee-houses and great 
 salles-a-manger. Nothing in London can give you any idea of this 
 
 ■* Not however to be compared with the Southwark Bridge, since erected in our metro- 
 polis. 
 
GENERAL ACCOUNT OF PARIS. 
 
 23 
 
 place ; from its immense extent, the variety and splendour of its exhibi- 
 tions, and the constant crowd to be met with. " The number of arches is 
 113; the ground floor of each, in shops and coffee-houses, &c., lets for 
 3,000 francs per annum, the first floor for 1,200, and the third and fourth 
 for 500 each, thus making the annual produce of each division, comprising 
 one arch, and the parts above it, 6,000 francs, or 240/., and, consequently, 
 that of the whole, to 27,120/., to which an addition is to be made for the 
 Galerie de Bois, the shops of which produce each 1,200 francs per annum, 
 but of their number I am ignorant."* The architecture is not good, yet the 
 great extent of the garden, and the continuity of the surrounding buildings, 
 decorated with a uniform style of ornament, produce a rich and striking 
 coup (Vceilj and it must be observed, that this uniformity consists in the 
 repetition of parts, which, though not perfect, yet when compared with 
 the London rows of brick-houses, or the almshouse Gothic of the House 
 of Lords, may justly be esteemed magnificent. 
 
 The Cafe des Mille Colonnes is in the Palais Royal, and is perhaps the 
 most celebrated in Paris. It is a large room, surrounded with half 
 columns against the walls, and all the spaces not occupied by the doors 
 and windows are filled up with looking-glass. But its celebrity has been 
 less owing to its architectural splendor than to its beautiful mistress. 
 The lady was seated at the bar in a very handsome chair, dressed in a 
 gown of crimson satin, and the bar itself, and all about her, was highly 
 ornamented. This is usually the most finished and decorated part of a 
 French coffee-house, and this heightening of enrichment, in the princi- 
 pal point of the apartment, is certainly well judged, and tends much to 
 enhance the splendor of the whole. It is the same in principle, as far as 
 architecture is concerned, with the highly finished altar of a church, and 
 those who possess the poetry of the art will feel the importance of these 
 accessories. You see I am considering the lady merely as an ornament to 
 architecture, but unfortunately, this highest enrichment is not at the 
 command of the artist. After satisfying my curiosity with a general view 
 of the city, the next object was to acquire some knowledge of its inha- 
 bitants, and on the 18th I began to deliver my letters of introduction. 
 I do not mean to give an account of all the visits I paid, but merely a 
 sketch of such as I think may interest you. One was to Mr. Du Fourny, 
 professor of architecture. On the pavement, at the entrance of his 
 apartment, is the word salve, copied from a mosaic at Pompei, and his 
 
 * Copied from the journal of a friend. 
 
24 
 
 GENERAL ACCOUNT OF PARIS, 
 
 rooms are ornamented with various fragments of antiquity. He was 
 very angry with the Duke of Wellington for having assisted in stripping 
 the museum, and attributed the whole to the English government, but a 
 little further conversation served to explain his idea, which was, that 
 the English might have hindered it if they would, and that they ought to 
 have done so. This is a very frequent ground of complaint amongst the 
 French, but I know not what claim they can imagine themselves to have 
 had to our interference in their favour. That the union of these objects 
 was not for the general advantage of art, seems to be acknowledged 
 by almost all those who have the best opportunities of observing its pro- 
 gress, and Mr. Du Fourny was one of upwards of eighty French artists, 
 who, much to their honour, petitioned that the spoils of Italy might 
 not be brought to Paris. It has been imagined that this request pro- 
 ceeded from an idea, that the Louvre being thus tilled, no employment 
 would remain for the native artists, and that in fact the market would 
 be overstocked. But it is sufficiently obvious that these objects are not 
 brought into the market, and that without them no one would have 
 thought of filling the Louvre with paintings, while the existence of such 
 a gallery excites the taste for collections, and multiplies the employment 
 of the painter. The ill effect of such an immense collection is, that it 
 gives a certain sort of familiarity with a degree of excellence, beyond 
 what artists of these degenerate days are capable of attaining, and 
 forces them to seek distinction in extravagance and manner. This conse- 
 quence would be less to be dreaded if the union of second-rate artists in 
 academies did not give them a degree of consequence and influence be- 
 yond that to which they are naturally entitled. It has been considered 
 as a very extraordinary reproach to the French school, that its members 
 did not improve in point of taste by the habitual acquaintance with 
 these glorious productions ; but no school would have improved. The 
 artist who hunts them out in different places fixes them in his memory 
 and his heart, he makes use of them without fear, or at least he is not 
 afraid of showing, in his productions, what he has been studying ; and it 
 is perhaps an advantage, that at last he has not the original painting at 
 hand to render him ashamed of his own effort. The artist to whom they 
 are constantly accessible has before his eyes the incessant reproach of 
 want of originality, and is obliged to shun an imitation of style, painful 
 in so many ways to his feelings and his reputation. 
 
 On another occasion I called on Denon, who received me in the most 
 
GENERAL ACCOUNT OF PARIS. 
 
 25 
 
 friendly manner, and shewed me his Egyptian drawings. The spirit and 
 life that he puts into every thing is delightful. He has a very good mu- 
 seum, containing, as might be expected, a large collection of Egyptian 
 antiquities. He possesses also some very fine paintings, and a most va- 
 luable collection of drawings of the Italian masters.* I noticed a bust of 
 Napoleon, and observed to him that it seemed to be a prohibited figure 
 in Paris. He replied, that it was the bust of his benefactor, and that po- 
 litical events could not discharge the obligations of private gratitude. 
 Amongst the slavish flattery which on both sides has lately so disgraced 
 the French character, how noble does this sentiment appear ! 
 
 On the 22d, M. De Bure, the well known bookseller, took me to the 
 royal library. It occupies two floors, surrounding a court above 300 feet 
 long, and 75 feet wide, the rooms at one end being double. The printed 
 books are said to form 350,000 volumes, and there are more manuscripts 
 than would fill the shelves of the London Institution. The whole extent 
 of surface for books must, I conceive, exceed 25,000 feet. Here is a large 
 library of large paper copies, and a series of rooms for books of prints, 
 maps, drawings, &c. The height of the bookcases is about 11 feet, and 
 over them is a gallery. The books are frequently in a double range, the 
 larger behind, and the smaller in front, so that you see the former over 
 the latter. Among other things is an immense collection of what they 
 call topography, which contains the plans and details of a great number 
 of buildings, some of which are Gothic. I took some pains to see what 
 there was ; but the want of any arrangement which would lead me to the 
 different subjects, made it a difficult task, and the drawings, when found, 
 appeared for the most part, to be very poor and inaccurate. There are 
 several drawings on a large scale, made for the purpose of explaining 
 some alterations in the choir of Notre Dame. These exhibited particu- 
 larities, principally in the vaulting of the has choeur, which appeared to 
 me very remarkable, while others were quite incomprehensible. On re- 
 ferring to the building I found both the one and the other totally false ; 
 a gross inaccuracy, so immediately within reach of correction, gives ground 
 to suspect similar defects in many others. 
 
 * On my return he was engaged in preparing etchings for publication from these subjects ; 
 they were done on stone, and are by far the most beautiful things of that sort I ever saw : the 
 effects both of p«n and chalk are faithfully given, and it is not too much to say that they 
 preserve all the spirit and sentiment of the originals. 
 
26 
 
 GENERAL ACCOUNT OF PARIS. 
 
 After having satisfied my curiosity at the library, I called upon Hum- 
 boldt. He is a most interesting man, for he talks a great deal, and as he 
 has seen much, and thought much, almost every word he says conveys 
 both pleasure and information. Within a quarter of an hour he led me 
 deep into the Mexican antiquities, shewing me the history of Adam and 
 Eve, and the fall of man, exhibited in the hieroglyphic paintings of the 
 country, and explaining to me all the particulars. He observed, that 
 this coincidence with the traditions of Western Asia was a very wonder- 
 ful fact: as from their geographical position, and other circumstances, the 
 Mexicans, and other tribes of North America, have been supposed to be 
 derived from the Tartar or Chinese nations of Eastern Asia, where no 
 such history is retained. He talks of visiting the ruins of Babylon. I 
 told him I thought he had travelled enough ; he said he had hardly be- 
 gun ; and I replied, he would weep like Alexander, for more worlds to 
 travel in. 
 
 After this conversation, M. Humboldt conducted me to the Institute, 
 where he introduced me to Richard, and pointed out to me Jussieu, 
 Latreille, Lacepede, Laborde, and several other of the present distin- 
 guished literary characters of France. Nothing could be more kind or 
 attentive than his whole conduct. 
 
 Here also is a very fine library, which owes its foundation to Cardinal 
 Mazarine. The small room, for the ordinary meetings of the Institute, 
 is, I suppose, 50 feet long ; and the principal room of the library 60 feet. 
 Both are filled with books. 
 
 On the 24th I attended a public meeting of the Institute. Of all the 
 dull things resorted to by way of amusement, I think a public meeting of 
 the Institute is the most stupid. The room occupied for the purpose 
 was anciently the church of Les Quatre Nations. Its form is a Greek 
 cross, or perhaps rather an octagon, with four recesses ; and the dome, and 
 the recess which anciently formed the choir, are occupied by the mem- 
 bers. The auditors, seated in the other three recesses, each of which is 
 divided into two heights, neither see nor hear well ; but a favoured portion 
 occupying part of the centre, are better off. This was the first meeting 
 since the Institute had been new modelled, and it was very fully attended. 
 M. de Vaublanc made a long speech. He was followed by the Due de 
 Richelieu. The third was M. De Fontanes. Choiseul Gouffier, as repre- 
 sentative of classical literature, read an essay on Homer. Cuvier, the 
 
GENERAL ACCOUNT OF PARIS. 
 
 27 
 
 champion of natural history, produced a report on the progress of 
 science, and if his view of the subject was not very profound, or his 
 mode of reasoning always perfectly accurate, it was the better suited to 
 a public assembly. M. de Campenon was the last I heard. He read an 
 epistle in verse. You will not expect me to tell you much about the sub- 
 jects ; there was little in any of them worthy of being remembered. The 
 burthen of the song was the praise of their wise and good king, ce heaii roi, 
 ce grand roi, but what monarch is too poor to buy praise ? It seemed in- 
 deed rather out of place, if we consider this as a scientific meeting, but in 
 truth, it is merely a public exhibition to please the good people of Paris. 
 The style of speaking is very disagreeable to a stranger. The periods 
 are divided into short portions of a very few syllables, the last of which 
 is dwelt upon longer than the others, and if you repeat the syllables 
 tutitaa, tuilaa, tulitaa, tutiritaa, tutitaa, tiiltaa, lengthening out the aa 
 sufficiently, you will have no bad idea of French elocution. 
 
 Among the distinguished men whom I saw at Paris, I must not omit 
 to mention M. Visconti, whose modesty and plain good sense in conversa- 
 tion are equal to his vast knowledge of antiquities. I had to take up the 
 cudgels in his apartment in defence of Gothic architecture, but did not 
 succeed at all, and I felt myself very much cramped from the want of a fa- 
 miliar acqua^intance with French terms. My opponent was an Italian, 
 and his shoulders touched his ears when I ventured to admire the sim- 
 plicity of the Gothic, as exhibited in the insides of the finest cathedrals. 
 
 The first architect in Paris, in point of taste and knowledge of design, 
 is Percier, and probably the first in Europe. I had a great deal of con- 
 versation with him about Gothic, which he does not much admire, but 
 prefers that of the south of France, to that of the north. However he is 
 not so bigotted against it as to wish to exclude it altogether from art, but 
 reserves it for an occasional " bon bouche," by way of variety ; while 
 his really substantial every day food is the Greek architecture, or rather 
 the Roman. M. Percier is not less distinguished for his kind and judi- 
 cious treatment of the young architects and students in architecture, 
 than for his professional talents. Here is no jealousy, no keeping back 
 information ; for every species of assistance and advice they all look up 
 to Percier : such an union is delightful. 
 
 The s^avant who is supposed to know most of Gothic architecture in 
 
 E 2 
 
I 
 
 28 GENERAL ACCOUNT OF PARIS. 
 
 Paris is M. Millin. He is certainly an able antiquary, and a man of general 
 information, but not very profound in any thing, perhaps not even in his 
 favourite pursuit. He has published some works of considerable value 
 on French antiquities ; but architecture is not the part in which he is 
 strongest, though his " Antiquites nationales" consists chiefly of archi- 
 tectural subjects. He offered me the use of his library, which is a very 
 excellent one on these subjects, and the permission would be of great 
 value, if my stay at Paris were long enough to enable me to avail myself 
 of it. I have every reason to believe that the offer was perfectly in 
 earnest, and that he would have been gratified by ray acceptance of it. 
 
 \ 
 
29 
 
 LETTER III. 
 
 GOTHIC ARCHITECTURE. 
 
 Rheims, May, 1816. 
 
 I ENGAGED a young French artist of the name of Le Blanc to accom- 
 pany me in an excursion to Chalons sur Marne, and Rheims, in order to 
 assist me in sketching the Gothic Architecture of those two places. The 
 road is not very pleasant ; the first part lies mostly through a common 
 field, but with trees of a tolerable size on each side : these trees admit of 
 a side and front view of the country, but not an oblique one : from the 
 straightness of the road, the front continues always the same, and the 
 side view escapes in a moment, so that we have no time to dwell on any 
 object. Tired of one everlasting defect, I began to wish the trees alto- 
 gether out of the way ; but before reaching Chalons, I became still more 
 tired of an open country, to which the eye could hardly distinguish any 
 boundary, and heartily wished for the trees again. The surface of the 
 ground is a continued gentle undulation, and whether with or without 
 trees, the straight road makes this form extremely sensible, and it is 
 hardly possible to conceive any thing more dull and wearisome. This 
 character however is not without exception. La Flerte is situated in a 
 very pleasant valley, with scattered trees, steep banks, villages, and dis- 
 tant hills ; and a little beyond the town, the road winds round the head of 
 a charming hollow, of no great depth. The hills are steep, and partly 
 woody, and the scene rich, with the mixture of trees, hedges, and culti- 
 vated ground ; meadows, vineyards, and abundance of orchards, whose 
 delicious fragrance was wafted by a soft and gentle breeze, very different 
 from the cold winds which swept over the naked country. Chalons 
 offered to our curiosity two Gothic churches. The cathedral, of which I 
 have little to say, and that of Notre Dame, which both for its antiquity, 
 and the beautiful effects of certain dispositions not usually met with, is 
 extremely interesting. We find here a number of particulars, which gene- 
 rally accompany each other in these ancient French churches : these are. 
 First, square towers, with semicircular headed openings. The mouldings 
 round the windows are often ornamented; but the buttresses (which 
 
30 
 
 GOTHIC ARCHITECTURE. 
 
 have little projection) and the surface of the walls, are always unadorned. 
 Secondly, the windows are without tracery, and those of the choir are 
 disposed three together, the middle one being the largest : this arrange- 
 ment prevails also in Salisbury Cathedral, and in some other English 
 buildings of the same period. Thirdly, detached single columns, which 
 might almost be called Corinthian, support the arches at the back of the 
 choir. Fourthly, the side aisles of the choir are generally in two stories, 
 and frequently of the nave also : the upper story is supposed to have 
 been for the use of the women. Fifthly, there is a gallery or triforium 
 round the choir, above the two stories of the has chceur, and below the 
 windows, which is not continued along the nave. Sixthly, the end of the 
 choir is circular, not polygonal, and the little chapels which surround it, 
 and which are hardly ever wanting in France, are also terminated in por- 
 tions of circles : in the later styles of Gothic Architecture both these be- 
 came polygonal. Seventhly, the mouldings and ornaments externally are 
 more like the Roman, than they are in the Gothic of a later period. Some 
 of these peculiarities may, be traced from the ponderous architecture 
 which preceded it, and some may be pursued into the more ornamental 
 style which followed. In attempting to arrange the productions of ar- 
 chitecture in a chronological series, we shall find many aberrations in the 
 style of building, from the exact order of dates : a fashion may be conti- 
 nued in one province, some years after it has ceased to be practised in 
 another. Even in the same city the genius of one man may introduce 
 a mode of construction afterwards generally followed, and there may yet 
 be a considerable interval between its first introduction and its general 
 adoption. It may be said then, that the cathedral of Amiens is less early 
 than that of Notre Dame at Paris ; meaning thereby to infer, not a pre- 
 cise priority of date in the latter, but that it exhibits indications of an 
 earlier stage of knowledge or of taste; and announces a state of art, 
 which, generally speaking, preceded that exhibited in the former. 
 
 I think I can now distinguish four styles of French Gothic ; the earliest 
 is that which I have just described, as exemplified in the church of Notre 
 Dame, at Chalons ; the second, that of the thirteenth century, is exhi- 
 bited on a magnificent scale in the cathedral of Amiens. Here the lower 
 part of the tower is ornamented with niches and statues ; the upper part 
 is comparatively plain, and very light. The windows are single, much 
 larger than in the preceding style, divided by mullions, and I believe al- 
 
GOTHIC ARCHITECTURE. 
 
 31 
 
 ways rose-headed. There is only one story of aisles, which is nearly, or 
 quite, as high as the two were before. The piers behind the choir, and 
 every where else, except those of the chevet, are bundled, and adorned 
 with rich capitals, representing detached foliage, or sometimes other ob- 
 jects : those of the chevet are sometimes, but not always simple. This 
 word chevet, I have adopted from Whittington, without knowing whether 
 he is correct in the use of it. It means, I think, in common use, the 
 head-board of a bed. The part indicated by it in churches, as I under- 
 stand it, is the circular or polygonal end of the elevated building forming 
 the great avenue of the church. It is called also by the French the rond 
 point. Our cathedrals rarely finish in this manner, and I do not recol- 
 lect any appropriate name for the part in our language. Milner, I be- 
 lieve, calls it the apsis, but this is more properly applied to the great se- 
 micircular niche of the ancient Basilicas, in which the architecture of the 
 nave was not resumed, as it always is in Gothic churches. This lond 
 point or chevet, is, in this style, always a portion of a polygon, and not 
 of a circle, and the chapels attached to it are also polygonal. The 
 mouldings are much deeper, and more strongly contrasted than in the 
 former style. Thus, at St. Remi, at Rheims, the bases are moulded nearly 
 as in the first of the following figures. 
 
 in the cathedral of the same city, as in the last : the first exemplifying 
 the taste of the first period ; the second, that of which we are now 
 treating. You may find in the one all the parts which are observable 
 in the other, and in the same order. They are both modifications of the 
 ancient Attic base, but managed very differently in the two examples, and 
 so as to produce very different effects. A similar system of diminished 
 heights, increased projection, and deeper hollows, is carried still further 
 in the succeeding period, but the original disposition is no longer so 
 strictly observed. During the prevalence of this style, the distinct 
 leaves of the capital, imitated however clumsily from the ancient Corin- 
 
32 
 
 GOTHIC ARCHITECTURE. 
 
 thian, began to give way to running foliage. Besides the edifices already 
 mentioned, the choir at Beauvais exhibits a late example of this style, 
 where some of its characteristics are giving way to those of the third. 
 
 In the third style, the roses over the windows were generally suc- 
 ceeded by variously disposed foliage ; and even the great rose windows 
 were sometimes displaced for more intricate ornaments, or if the circular 
 form was retained, the winding divisions of its area assumed something of 
 a leafy form. In the former styles, the portals were almost exclusively 
 adorned with shafts, placed in reveals, i. e. in receding angles made for 
 them, thus. 
 
 and with statues ; or three-quarter columns and statues, were placed 
 against a sloping surface. In this, hollow mouldings are introduced, with 
 a beautiful running foliage, the middle of which is worked in entire 
 relief The capitals of the piers and shafts are diminished both in num- 
 ber and size ; and the shafts themselves form part of the masonry of the 
 piers. This mode of construction is, however, occasionally found in 
 much earlier buildings. There are specimens of this style in Paris, but 
 no good one ; and I have not met with any fine building altogether 
 belonging to it. 
 
 The fourth style is more arbitrary and fanciful than the others, and 
 less reducible to rule, so that it is difficult to say when it began or ended. 
 Perhaps we should not estimate its full establishment earlier than the 
 fifteenth century ; but some buildings of the fourteenth exhibit more or 
 less of the following characteristics. The piers, instead of being com- 
 posed of a central mass and surrounding shafts, seem to be sometimes 
 bundles of mouldings, with deep hollows between them ; sometimes, as 
 in the transept of the cathedral at Beauvais, they present merely an 
 undulating outline, the projecting parts of which have the appearance of 
 ribs, and branch out on the vaulting. The following sketches may serve 
 to explain the general progress of the plans of the piers : in the first 
 style they are sometimes massive cylinders ; sometimes as at a. In the 
 second, they are often as at b, but perhaps more frequently have only 
 
GOTHIC ARCHITECTURE. 
 
 33 
 
 four attached shafts. The third varies from this towards c, and is at 
 times still more complicated : d and e belong to the fourth style. 
 
 I have thought at times that the last mode (e) was adopted from 
 economy. It is posterior in date to the other, and perhaps might be con- 
 sidered as forming a distinct style, but it is not accompanied with such a 
 marked difference in the other parts as to enable me to separate it. The 
 cathedral of St. Wulfram, at Abbeville, offers excellent examples of both 
 sorts of piers. The portal and the five first arches of the nave in that 
 church are the commencements of a most magnificent edifice, with the 
 earlier characters of this fourth style. The remainder is an economical 
 continuation of much inferior architecture, probably of about the year 
 1500. In the first the piers are formed somewhat in the manner above re- 
 presented at D, in the other they are as at e ; in both, the parts divide, 
 and find their bases at different altitudes ; and this peculiarity, and the 
 want of capitals, I consider as the two most distinguishing marks of this 
 style ; for the idea of columns being thus lost, the capitals are almost 
 always omitted. This style is also distinguished by more fanciful tracery, 
 by mouldings interlacing with each other, and by the crenated ornament 
 lying before the other ornaments, instead of forming the inner edge of 
 the opening, thus : 
 
 F 
 
34 
 
 GOTHIC ARCHITECTURE. 
 
 a 
 
 a 
 
 the mouldings a a being continued close behind the ornament, and en- 
 tirely detached from it. There is a crenated ornament in the great door- 
 way at Amiens. It is on the first of a succession of ribs forming the 
 vault of the portal ; but though the inner ribs may be seen behind it, it 
 does not lie over, or rather on the mouldings, as in the fourth style, but 
 stands as the termination of a separate part, or division, of the architecture* 
 This crenated ornament is also sometimes placed obliquely. Compound 
 arches of this form 
 
 are frequently repeated in the divisions of the windows ; and curved gables. 
 
 instead of straight ones, in the ornaments of the buttresses and pinnacles. 
 In this style the architects seem to have had an aversion to flat surfaces, 
 as well as to right angles among their mouldings. They were fond of di- 
 viding the thickness, and increasing the apparent intricacy, by giving to 
 each half a different ramification ; making for instance two sets of mul- 
 lions and tracery in one opening, one before the other, and totally with- 
 out correspondence.* They divided the mouldings into separate parts, and 
 placed those of their bases at different heights, one set of vertical mould- 
 ings passing between the bases of other vertical mouldings, and the bases 
 of these again, are interrupted by the high plinths of the former bases, as 
 if each penetrated the solid stone, and reappeared again where that did 
 
 * Something of this may be seen in York-Minster, and the western extremity of the ca- 
 thedral at Strasburg, with the tower, exhibits this, and many other characters of this style. 
 
GOTHIC ARCHITECTURE. 
 
 35 
 
 not cover it ; many of these fancies are evidently taken from basket 
 work. 
 
 The remaining fragment of the church of St. John the Baptist at 
 Soissons, belongs to this style, and the new tower and spire at Chartres 
 form a most beautiful specimen. The shrine work that surrounds the 
 choir at Chartres is also an exquisite miniature example, which I shall 
 mention more particularly hereafter. At about two leagues from Chalons, 
 at a small village called L'Epine, is a little church of the fourteenth cen- 
 tury. One tower only has been completed, and crowned with an elegant 
 spire ; but had the front been finished, it would offer perhaps the most 
 beautiful specimen of Gothic external composition in the world. The 
 arch of the doorway is large ; even more so than the usual proportion in 
 French churches, and its ornaments reach to the top of the rose window 
 over it. The spire is short, with little flying buttresses at its base. It 
 rises from an octagonal turret placed on the tower. Many of the parts 
 themselves may be thought clumsy, but they are beautifully disposed, and 
 every little defect vanishes in the perfection of the whole. Inside also it 
 is an elegant building, if you except the white wash and yellow wash with 
 which it is at present variegated. The front, including the two first 
 arches of the nave, appears to be somewhat posterior to the rest of the 
 church. 
 
 If we compare these examples with the buildings in our own country, 
 we shall find the first nearly to correspond with the earliest specimens of 
 what has been called the early English. The eastern parts of the cathe- 
 dral at Canterbury form the best example I can cite to you ; Salisbury 
 Cathedral, and the transept at York, both agree with it in some particu- 
 
 F 2 
 
36 
 
 ST. GERMAIN DES PRES. 
 
 lars, while in others they approach to the second French style. Of this, 
 after making some allowance for national differences, Westminster Abbey 
 will furnish you a pretty good idea, or the eastern end of the cathedral at 
 Lincoln. The nave at York would also belong to this style, excepting 
 the vaulting and the west window. Of the third style good examples are 
 rather deficient in England as well as in France ; and perhaps it might 
 be considered only as a variety of the second, yet it has a distinct and pe- 
 culiar character. In our own buildings it is marked by a more com- 
 plicated arrangement of the ribs on the vaulting ; and in general it may be 
 observed, that the English architects paid more attention to the enrich- 
 ment of this part than the French. After this the two nations held a dif- 
 ferent course, and I can produce you no parallel to my fourth French 
 style ; nor have I met in France with any building like the choir at York, 
 King's College Chapel at Cambridge, or that of Henry the Seventh at 
 Westminster. 
 
 I hope this general view of the subject will enable you to comprehend 
 more easily my accounts of particular buildings, but in order to explain 
 myself more fully, I shall request your attention to a very curious building 
 of early date, which has been the subject of much controversy in France. 
 
 The church of St. Germain des Pres claims to be the oldest in Paris.* 
 The first edifice was begun by Childebert in 557, and finished in 558, a 
 degree of expedition which does not announce much magnificence ; yet 
 we are told that it was in the shape of a cross, and that the fabric was 
 sustained by large marble columns, the ceiling was gilt, the walls painted 
 on a gold ground, the pavement composed of rich mosaic, and the roof 
 externally covered with gold. This description is by Gislemer, a monk 
 of the abbey, who lived at the end of the ninth century, after the church 
 had been twice burnt by the Normans ; and perhaps it rather gives us the 
 author's opinion of what a church ought to be, than what this once was. 
 The building however does not appear to have been totally destroyed, 
 since Morard, who became abbot in 990, perceiving that the repairs 
 since its ruin by the Normans, had been hastily and slightly executed, 
 determined to pull it down entirely and rebuild it ; and he is said to have 
 had the satisfaction of completing it, nearly as it exists at present, be- 
 fore his death, which happened in 1014. We learn from the inscrip- 
 tion which was formerly legible on his tomb, that he added to the church 
 
 * Whittington, p. 87, ct seq. 
 
ST. GERMAIN DES PRES. 
 
 37 
 
 a tower, containing a bell {signum) : this addition may seem to throw some 
 doubt on the extent of the works executed by him. A dedication took 
 place in 1163, but we cannot suppose the building stood complete and 
 useless for all that period. The old cloister was taken down in 1227, and 
 another begun and finished in the course of the same year by Eudes, the 
 abbot. A new refectory was commenced in 1236, and in 1244 the great 
 chapel of the Virgin was undertaken. These were executed from the de- 
 signs of Pierre de Montereau, and are cited as proofs of his exquisite taste 
 and skill. The Chapter House, and a beautiful chamber which adjoined 
 it, were constructed about the same time, and the dormitory over them in 
 1273; but all these parts have been destroyed during the revolution. 
 A new cloister was erected in 1555, but in 1579 the church is described as 
 being much out of repair, and though some restorations and alterations 
 were made in 1592, yet in 1644 it was in a most dilapidated and dangerous 
 condition. The nave was covered with the fragments of the ceiling, and 
 in parts with the tiles of the roof; the pavement was so sunk, that it was 
 necessary to descend to it by steps ; and the vaulting of the transept 
 threatened to fall in. The whole of these deficiencies were repaired in the 
 course of two years, the vaulting of the transept was renewed, and the 
 nave for the first time vaulted with stone. The pillars were ornamented 
 with composite capitals, some of the windows enlarged, a new doorway 
 opened to the south, and an alteration made in the disposition of the 
 choir, which seems to have been the only part of the fabric which had 
 been kept in sufficient repair. As it now stands the church is not a very 
 large one. The inside is low and gloomy ;* in the nave and part of the 
 choir, the piers consist of four half columns attached to a square pillar, 
 the vaulting of the nave is slightly pointed, but the known recent date of 
 this part renders its form of little consequence, nor is that of the choir of 
 much more historical value. The piers of the chevet are cylindrical. All 
 the arching is round, except that of the chevet, where the French and 
 Whittington say it was pointed from necessity ; but this is not very evi- 
 dent : the openings are smaller, but this is not the only way of carrying 
 the arches to the same height. This may be done in the first place by 
 making a Gothic arch formed from two centres, with a larger radius than 
 the semicircular arches, (a pointed arch with the same radius would riot 
 
 * In 1826 I found it newly repaired and decorated, and the impression produced was very 
 different. 
 
38 
 
 ST. GERMAIN DES PRES. 
 
 rise so high) or witli an arch from two centres, and the same radius on a 
 base somewhat more elevated, or lastly, by a semicircular arch on a much 
 more elevated base. The following diagram will explain this better than 
 words. 
 
 To judge by the eye, the arches of St. Germain des Pres lie nearly in the 
 middle between the second and third, i. e. between b and c. The base is 
 considerably elevated by a perpendicular line continued above the capital, 
 and the radius of the curve is smaller than that of the semicircle of the 
 arches in the square part. As the architects have in some degree availed 
 themselves of this elevated base, it is evident that they might, by doing 
 it a little more, have preserved the semicircular form, and they must have 
 been conscious that they had it in their power to do so. There is no gal- 
 lery along the nave, but we find one round the choir, with square-headed 
 openings. It has been much disputed whether this was, or was not the 
 original form. M. Du Fourny contends, that as the first ceiling was of 
 wood, and probably flat, it was highly natural that they should make 
 these openings square-headed ; but I think he is wrong. On the two 
 towers at the entrance of the choir, we see openings, the lower parts of 
 which are exactly similar to those abovementioned, and they are divided 
 in the same manner by a little pillar ; but these are arched above. It is 
 probable that the arches have been removed in order to make room for 
 the windows of the clerestory above, which in fact come down to them, but 
 of which the lower part is filled up. All the windows are round-headed, 
 (except those of the little chapels) without tracery or division of any 
 sort, ornamented with a billetted moulding externally, and entirely plain 
 within. Those of the chapels are pointed, but with the same ornament, 
 and equally without tracery. There are some Saxon (or Norman) arcades 
 below these windows; but there can be no doubt that these chapels in their 
 present form (exclusively of the vaulting) are somewhat posterior to the 
 church. The vaulting of the aisles is circular, and remarkably arched on 
 the ridge, so as to present nearly a succession of portions of domes. The 
 
ST. GERMAIN DES PRES. 
 
 39 
 
 capitals, as usual in the Norman architecture, are very various, some re- 
 semble baskets, others are formed of a collection of figures of animals : 
 some bear a resemblance to the Corinthian, but the masses are smaller in 
 proportion to the size of the capital, and the relief less strongly marked. 
 In this I think the artist judged rightly, and that the looseness of the 
 Corinthian foliage would have been inconsistent with the massiveness of 
 such a pillar. Here are also some decidedly composite capitals under the 
 vaulting, but these were probably introduced in the repairs of 1644. 
 Whittington says, that the proportions of the columns of the choir ap- 
 proach nearly to those of the Corinthian order. The shafts of the latter 
 have full eight diameters in height : those of the former about four and a 
 half. 
 
 The western tower is entirely incrusted in a wall of modern masonry 
 except at the top, where we may observe a story of what we call Saxon 
 architecture, with circular headed windows divided by little columns. 
 In the other two towers, which flank the clerestory of the choir, the 
 arches are also semicircular ; but the openings are separated by piers, 
 not by columns, and the workmanship of both, though somewhat dif- 
 fering, is more rude than that of the western tower. Judging by the 
 little portion still exhibited, I should conclude this the latest of the three. 
 Yet, as the masonry of these two ruder towers forms an essential part 
 of the edifice, and the aisles are continued through their lower story, 
 without exhibiting any difference of style in that part, we can hardly sup- 
 pose them prior to the rest, more especially as the arches of the re- 
 cesses, corresponding with the gallery of the choir, are surmounted with 
 pointed arches. I cannot attribute this form to any alteration, because 
 these arches do not correspond in style with any other restoration of the 
 building. I must therefore be content to attribute the body of the church 
 to Morard, excluding the vaulting, and to doubt about all the rest. 
 
 The western portal of this church exhibits the pointed arch. It is at 
 present ornamented with shafts set in reveals, but some of them are res- 
 torations, and occupy the place either of statues, or of columns with 
 statues attached to them : above is a series of ten small figures, whose 
 faces have been broken by the Iconoclasts of the eighteenth century. 
 The lower figures have been adduced as proofs of the antiquity of the 
 tower, because they are supposed (two of them at least) to represent 
 the family of Childebert, but the conclusion certainly does not follow 
 
40 
 
 NOTRE DAME AT CHALONS. 
 
 from the premises, and I have no doubt that this portal, ancient as it 
 is, was posterior to the body of the church. To make a theory for the 
 chronology of this edifice from the dates we find in books, compared with 
 the evidence of the architecture, we may suppose the bulk of the western 
 tower to have been built in the eighth century, but nothing of this work 
 remains exposed to view : the body of the church, northern tower, and 
 lower part of the southern tower by Morard, between 990 and 1014 : the 
 upper part of the southern tower very shortly after. The upper part of 
 the western tower followed. The western portal was certainly posterior to 
 1028 : the reasons for fixing on this date are derived from the cathedral 
 at Chartres. Bulliart does not give any representation of the arch of this 
 doorway, and Whittington's whole theory seems to indicate that he sup- 
 posed it semicircular. I shall resume this subject in my observations on 
 Chartres. 
 
 I have kept you so long vacillating about St. Germain, that you are 
 tired of it, and so am I. After all, one derives but little satisfactory evi- 
 dence from a building so rude, and so frequently altered, but it has been 
 strongly pressed into the history of French architecture, and I could 
 not pass it over ; and now, after this terrible digression, I will return to 
 the church at Nota'e Dame, at Chalons, an edifice in many respects simi- 
 lar, but of a much more finished construction, exhibiting more of its ori- 
 ginal form, and to judge from a comparison of the internal evidence, of a 
 date very little later. It is an excellent specimen of what I have called 
 the first style of French Gothic, but it is not entirely free from altera- 
 tions. This church is said to have had formerly eight towers, and as 
 many spires. I cannot make out the places of more than four ; two at 
 the end of the nave, and two at the entrance of the choir, immediately 
 beyond the transept. Such an arrangement seems not to have been un- 
 frequent ; but here, both in this building, and in the cathedral, these 
 towers flank the aisles of the choir : at St. Germain's at Paris they abut 
 upon the clerestory, and the aisles pass through them. On one of the 
 towers in front, there is a wooden spire, the general form of which is an 
 acute octangular pyramid, with a small square pyramid on the spaces left 
 at each angle of the tower. This is the arrangement of the pinnacles 
 over the buttresses of the cathedral of Rheims, but it has nothing to do 
 with the Saxon towers of this building. The style of these towers much 
 resembles the summit of the western tower of St. Germain^ but is more 
 
NOTRE DAME AT CHALONS. 
 
 41 
 
 ornamental, the semicircular headed windows being divided by groups of 
 little columns, and the parts subdivided by a detached column. The pro- 
 jections are remarkably bold. There is no pointed arch in any of these 
 towers inside or out, except in the upper story of two of them, and here 
 they are without doubt of a later date ; and the architecture of the church, 
 which is mostly pointed, is not so united to the towers as to bring in the 
 parts with perfect regularity. There are two stories of aisles to the nave 
 as well as to the choir, and in some points of view the effect of this is so 
 pleasing, that I feel quite reluctant to condemn it. The upper story cuts 
 in places some ancient mouldings. In this vaulting a is the lowest point 
 of the ridge, 6 is somewhat higher, and c still higher. 
 
 The piers of the chevet are circular, with capitals in some degree resembling 
 those of the Corinthian order, and the slender detached columns behind 
 the choir have, still more nearly, Corinthian capitals and proportions. 
 They present something peculiarly graceful and pleasing in their appear- 
 ance. As they certainly do not appear calculated to sustain the thrust of 
 an arch, it is difficult to shew a reasonable ground for the admiration one 
 cannot help feeling. The union of circular chapels with the circular 
 end of the choir and its aisles, each part having its ornaments exceed- 
 ingly well disposed, is also a beautiful circumstance in the external view ; 
 but it is rather conceived than seen in this instance, as the outside is 
 much encumbered by small houses, and there are some enormous plain 
 buttresses, on the date of which I will not pretend to decide : if they are 
 posterior to the church, the original ceiling must have been of wood. 
 The pavement is almost entirely composed of old monuments engraved in 
 stone, exactly in the manner of the brass plates in England. Many of 
 them represent the architecture of the thirteenth and fourteenth centu- 
 ries : one or two, from their extreme simplicity, may be taken from the ar- 
 chitecture of the twelfth. There are none in which the arch is not 
 pointed, and the trefoil ornament is always exhibited. Amongst, I dare 
 say, two hundred monuments of this sort, I observed only one figure in 
 mail, and that I could not find again on searching for it ; and a fragment 
 
 G 
 
42 
 
 CATHEDRAL AT CHALONS. 
 
 of one in plate armour : the earliest date is 1201, but the figures are not 
 perfectly clear. There are also tombs of a blue stone, inlaid with white. 
 I longed for Mr. L. ; here were materials for an excellent lecture on the 
 progress and changes of dress among our forefathers. I do not know that 
 there is any thing amongst them which might not be found in England, but 
 at the same time I know no place in England where there is such a collec- 
 tion of costumes. 
 
 The cathedral at Chalons has a tower at each end of the west side of the 
 transept, a disposition not at all pleasing. Parts of these towers seem to 
 be of the same date with those of Notre Dame, but they have been altered 
 and added to in the seventeenth century, at which time the present vault- 
 ing, the two spires, and the whole of the west front, were erected by the 
 Cardinal de Noailles. The body of the edifice appears to belong to the 
 thirteenth century. Its nave has four ranges of windows : those of the cle- 
 restory ; those of the galleries or triforia, great part of which are opened 
 into windows ; of the aisles ; and of the side chapels. The last form no 
 part of the original design ; they are very low, and it would be an improve- 
 ment to take them away. The slender spires which surmount the old 
 towers, are perforated in all directions ; and though they cannot be much 
 praised, have something of a light and elegant effect. There is a consi- 
 derable quantity of good stained glass in Notre Dame, and some likewise 
 in the cathedral, but not so much ; and the great rose window at the west 
 end of the latter is entirely without it. I was in the church in the even- 
 ing when the setting sun shone full into the building, and produced a pain- 
 ful glare, instead of the rich mellow splendor of painted glass in similar 
 circumstances, 
 
 Chalons was the first place where I observed in common use the semi- 
 circular tiles, which are usually shown to us in Italian landscapes, but 
 they were small and ill laid, and had a crowded effect. 
 
 We left Chalons early on the morning of the 30th of April, and for the 
 first six leagues saw nothing but a boundless common field. The diligence 
 does not change horses, but stops to rest them for an hour or two in the 
 middle of the journey. The harness was partly rope, and partly leather, 
 and some of the traces were chains. The rope traces are rather apt to 
 break, because no one thinks of putting new ones, as long as there is any 
 chance that the old ones will hold out the stage, but the chain traces are 
 worse. They are originally slight, but when a link gives way its place is 
 
JOURNEY TO RHEIMS. 
 
 43 
 
 supplied by a bit of leather ; this seldom lasts long, and it is not uncommon 
 for it to give way a second time in the same stage, but with the most 
 heroic perseverance the postillions apply another piece of leather. I 
 have not yet met with the phenomenon of an iron chain entirely of 
 leather, but I hope to see some considerable approach to it. The latter 
 half of the ride presented to our view a range of hills, abovit two miles dis- 
 tant on the left, not very high, but steep and broken, the upper part 
 mostly covered with wood, and the lower with vineyards. These hills 
 form the edge of the materials occupying the Paris basin, which every 
 where exhibit a strong contrast to the rounded swells of the chalk country. 
 There were also some little hills on the right, but these were naked, ex- 
 cept a few groups of trees at the base. This, though not a beautiful 
 landscape, was a considerable improvement on the shelterless plain of the 
 morning. There was something at least to amuse the imagination, but it 
 did not last long, and we returned long before reaching Rheims to the 
 usual expanse of common field. 
 
44 
 
 LETTER IV. 
 
 GOTHIC ARCHITECTURE. 
 
 Paris, May, 1816. 
 
 Having conducted you to Rheims, I now proceed to give you an ac- 
 count of what I saw there, and if it should contain a few digressions as 
 long as those in my last, I hope you will forgive me, for this Gothic Ar- 
 chitecture offers continual temptations to lead me out of the direct road. 
 T shall begin, not with the cathedral, but with a much more ancient build- 
 ing, which is supposed to have served as a cathedral before the present 
 edifice was erected. The church of St. Remi is said by Whittington to 
 have been dedicated iri 1049. I know not whether he mean the nave or 
 the choir, but they are certainly of different periods. The Recueil des 
 Abhayes, 6fc. says it was built in the time of Charlemagne, and conse- 
 crated by Leo IX., who was pope from 1048 to 1054; the nave, except 
 the vaulting, is much in the style of St. Germain des Pres, at Paris, but 
 the pillars are of various shapes, and do not seem the result of one de- 
 sign. There are two stories of aisles to the nave, and to the straight 
 part of the choir, and above these are the principal windows of the 
 clerestory, with semicircular heads, and over them a range of circular 
 openings, which I do not recollect to have seen elsewhere. The but- 
 tresses, externally, are alternately semicylindrical with a small projection, 
 and rectangular with a very considerable one ; the first are parts of the 
 original structure, and evidently denote the roof to have been of timber, 
 and not vaulted ; indeed all the vaulting appears to be posterior to the 
 walls and piers ; the latter were probably added at the same time with the 
 vaulting which rendered them necessary. The middle of the western 
 front is a restoration, in which many old parts have been re-used, and the 
 fragments of marble and granite render it probable that the spoils of some 
 Roman building were employed in the ancient edifice. The two old 
 towers remain, the southern doorway, and the window over it are beautiful 
 specimens of what I have denominated in a former letter, the third style 
 of Gothic ; and are probably of the fourteenth century. The choir is of 
 the first style, very much resembling that of Notre Dame at Chalons, and 
 
ST. REMI AT IIHEIMS. 
 
 45 
 
 though this church is certainly inferior in general effect to the one just 
 mentioned, yet some of the partial views it presents are, I think, superior 
 to any thing there. The flying buttresses of the choir are supported, on 
 their first separation from the building, by a little column ; and a narrow 
 gallery, which surrounds the clerestory, passes between these columns and 
 the body of the church. The same disposition prevails at Notre Dame at 
 Chalons, at Amiens, and at the cathedral at Rheims. There are some 
 granite shafts of columns in the church, which have perhaps belonged 
 to an ancient temple. 
 
 Under this church is a crypt, where we are shewn the tombs of 
 Clothaire the First, and of Sigismond, king of Burgundy. The former 
 died in 561, probably at Soissons ; the latter was thrown with his wife 
 and family into a well at Orleans, and we should not certainly expect to 
 find him in the same chapel with one of his principal enemies at Rheims. 
 A simple vault, or succession of vaults of small dimensions, can give us no 
 internal evidence of the time of its construction. 
 
 And now, in order to preserve something of a chronological order, let 
 me transport you from Rheims to Mantes, where I have since seen a 
 church which is a puzzle for the antiquaries. Whittington says that it 
 was built by Eudes de Montreuil, and I understand him to quote Millin 
 for the assertion ; but I cannot find the passage in that writer. On the 
 contrary, Millin tells us that it was built by the same architect who built 
 Royaumont. Now, Royaumont was finished in 1228, sixty-one years be- 
 fore the death of E. de Montreuil, which took place in 1289. The first 
 church which was erected at Mantes is said to have been built in 865, 
 but it was destroyed by William the Conqueror; and we certainly see at 
 present no remains of any edifice of that date, yet Millin seems inclined 
 to consider the northern doorway of the western portal as part of the ori- 
 ginal construction. Altogether this church has the appearance of a 
 building that has undergone considerable alterations at different periods. 
 In what I take to be the original work, the nave has two stories of aisles, 
 the end of the choir is round, and the windows are without tracery. In 
 the clerestory and in the lower aisles the windows are pointed ; in the 
 upper aisles they are entire circles ; all have Saxon ornaments externally, 
 and are quite plain within. All these circumstances indicate a style prior 
 to that existing at the beginning of the thirteenth century, which is the 
 date generally assigned to the edifice, under the auspices of Blanche of 
 
46 
 
 NOTRE DAME AT MANTES. 
 
 Castille, mother to Louis the Ninth. Two towers have been added at 
 the west end. The southern, which is said to be the most ancient, is a 
 very strange composition of slender Gothic. The upper story but one is 
 surrounded by a colonnade, if the expression be admissible, of two ranges 
 of columns, one above another, without either arch or architrave between 
 them, but merely connected with the wall by a stone slab on each capital 
 of the lower range. The upper range supports arches, on which rest se- 
 veral unconnected slabs, steeply sloping, wrought into scales, and con- 
 ducing neither to the beauty, the strength, nor the shelter of the edifice. 
 The north-west tower, built, according to the tradition of the place, three 
 hundred years after the other, is much less light in its construction, and 
 not much more handsome. It would rather appear more ancient than 
 posterior to the first, if there were any difference, but the summit is com- 
 paratively modern, and this has probably given birth to the opinion that 
 its date is so much posterior. 
 
 Many of the chapels appear to have been built in the thirteenth 
 century, at which time the vaulting of the nave and choirs was perhaps 
 added, and some of the windows of the upper aisle were altered from 
 their original circular form, into that which they now bear. Later still 
 (in 1405) the porch of the southern door of the western entrance was 
 erected. It is very beautiful, and is the only part of the edifice which is 
 so. Besides these, are a great many other incongruities which are pro- 
 bably assignable to different periods. The vaulting is with oblique 
 groins, as at Beauvais. You know, that in oblique groining, the piers 
 are usually alternately larger and smaller. In this church, the direct 
 arch between the greater piers seems to be formed on an equilateral tri- 
 angle, or nearly so, rising on the capitals of the shafts ; but on the 
 smaller piers the perpendicular line is continued considerably above the 
 capital, and the direct arch between them is consequently very obtuse. 
 Perhaps it was this whim which attracted the admiration of Sufilot, who 
 is said to have been lost in astonishment at the hardiesse of the vault- 
 ing, although the nave is only 34 feet wide. The boldness of the archi- 
 tect is however sufficiently conspicuous in other respects, for the piers of 
 the chevet are only 1 foot 11 inches in diameter, to support a vaulting 
 which rises 102 feet 6 inches (English measure) from the ground. One of 
 them is consequently crippled, and has been banded and supported on 
 every side with iron. M. Gabriel, one of the companions of SoufHot, in 
 
CATHEDRAL AT CHARTRES. 
 
 47 
 
 his examination of this church, contends that the six columns of the 
 chevet might all be cut away, and that nevertheless, by the scientific 
 disposition of the stones, the upper part and the vaulting would remain 
 secure : this indeed would be something wonderful. All the arches of 
 the nave and choir are pointed. 
 
 So much for Mantes, but I have still to trespass upon your patience 
 before I bring you back to Rheims, with an account of a building, 
 which from its early date, its peculiar architecture, and its great mag- 
 nificence, I consider the most interesting specimen of the Gothic style 
 in France, or probably in the world. I had conceived, from what Whit- 
 tington says of it, pp. 54, 55, 57, that I should find a building of the 
 Norman taste, but this is not the case ; Chartres is decidedly Gothic, 
 of a peculiar manner indeed, but such as one would suppose posterior 
 to all the three edifices above described. There are some additions to 
 the original building, but these are extremely well marked, and the mass 
 of the edifice is so clearly the result of one design, and the produc- 
 tion of one period, and the time of its erection is so well authenti- 
 cated, that it takes place of all other cathedrals in antiquarian interest, 
 and yields to few in beauty. Let me relate to you what information I 
 have been able to pick up on the spot, it may help you to form some idea 
 of what one has to wade through to arrive at any satisfactory results in 
 the history of French Gothic. I first bought a little book of the history 
 of Chartres, in order to obtain the dates of the different parts, but I 
 learnt from it little of what I wanted to know. The author begins by 
 telling us, that the ancient nations of Gaul were the most religious peo- 
 ple in the world, and that the innocence of their lives, and the holiness 
 of their priesthood, made them worthy to participate in the most im- 
 portant revelations, and to have the future incarnation of the Word 
 shewn to them, long before it was accomplished. There were, he says, 
 three classes of people to whom this communication was made, the Magi, 
 the Sybils, and the Druids. The first learnt it by their knowledge of 
 astrology, the second received the gift of prophecy in recompense of their 
 virginity, and the Druids knew by a prophetic spirit rather than by any 
 fortuitous prediction, that a virgin would one day bear a son for the sal- 
 vation of the world ; and they consequently raised altars in several places, 
 inscribed virgini paj-ilurcB, (did they write Latin ?) and amongst others 
 there was a very celebrated one at Chartres. 
 
 When afterwards Christianity was preached in these parts, there were 
 
48 
 
 CATHEDRAL AT CHARTRES. 
 
 three circumstances of similarity in the Christian and Druidical rites, 
 which greatly facilitated its progress. The worship of the virgin, who, 
 according to their traditions, was to bring forth a son ; the offering of 
 bread and wine, usual in their sacrifices ; and the adoration of the Tau, 
 that is, of the cross. The Christian service was performed at the ancient 
 altar of the virgin, and crowds thronged from all parts of the universe to 
 present their offerings. The present cathedral is built over the grotto 
 where this altar formerly stood. 
 
 The most famous relic here was the shift of the virgin, which was 
 stolen from a Jew widow by some pious patricians of Constantinople. It 
 was taken from them by an emperor, whose piety was, I suppose, of the 
 same sort, and presented to Charlemagne, who brought it to Aix. It was 
 removed thence by Charles the Bald, and given to the cathedral at 
 Chartres. This relic has of course performed abundance of miracles, but 
 most of these are what would be called by many people in England 
 special providences. And, if amongst us, we had no division into sects, 
 would not these special providences soon become to be considered as mi- 
 racles, and alleged as proofs of the truth of particular doctrines ? We 
 have no reason then to pride ourselves on our freedom from such super- 
 stitions, as it depends on circumstances over which we have no control, 
 but much cause to be thankful, not that we have this or that form of wor- 
 ship, but that we have the liberty of thinking for ourselves on religious 
 subjects. This book is not an antiquated work : it was printed in 1808, 
 and may serve to prove, that whatever injury the revolution may have 
 done to religion in the minds of the French, it has by no means rooted 
 out superstition. 
 
 There is a public library at Chartres, containing between twenty and 
 twenty-five thousand volumes, and I there found a history of the city de- 
 serving more attention ; although even in this, the author employs 200 
 pages in telling us what happened before the arrival of the Romans. This 
 folly seems as strong in France as it is said to be among the Welsh ; and 
 many of the local histories are prefaced by an account of Samothes, the 
 son of Japhet, who first peopled Gaul, and a long series of princes, who 
 gave successively their names to the Druids and Bards, to the Celts, 
 the Gauls, and even to the Francs. These, instead of being a German 
 nation, were the subjects of Francus, the son of Hector, called Astya- 
 nax and Scamander by Homer, who came to France and married the 
 daughter of Rhemus, king of Rheims. It was only a return to the land 
 
CATHEDRAL AT CHARTRES. 49 
 
 of his forefathers, for Dardanus, the founder of the Trojan line, was a 
 Frenchman. 
 
 But to return to this History of Chartres, which was written by a 
 M. V. Chevard, and printed at Chartres. It assures us that the old 
 cathedral was burnt in 1020 ; that Fulbert, who was then bishop, began 
 the present edifice almost immediately, but that it was not completed at 
 the time of his death, in 1028, although it appears to have been consider- 
 ably advanced. We are even told that it was finished before the middle 
 of the eleventh century, but this word is often used very loosely in the 
 accounts of Gothic buildings. Matilda, wife of William the Conqueror, 
 who died in 1083, covered the main body of the edifice with lead. The 
 basnef, the towers, and the west front, were finished in 1145. The south 
 porch was added in 1060, by Jean Cormier, or Jean Le Sourd, physician 
 to Henry I. of France. The famous steeple is one of those of the western 
 front. The place was formerly occupied by a wooden one, but this being 
 burnt in 1507, gave rise to the present, which rose almost immediately 
 from the ruins. I had heard so much of the height of this steeple, that 
 the first view of it disappointed me in this respect, but the great elevation 
 of the body of the building in the French churches, effectually prevents 
 any such extreme impression of height as is produced by the spire of 
 Salisbury Cathedral ; or, at least, the elevation must be indeed enormous 
 to occasion it. The vaulting of these edifices is more lofty, and the space 
 between that and the timber roof is much greater than is usual in England ; 
 indeed, sometimes in our churches the direct tie-beam is omitted, in order 
 to bring the vaulting absolutely into the roof. The roof itself is also 
 higher. Altogether the ridge of the roof at Chartres must be full 50 feet 
 higher than that at Salisbury, and 50 feet added to the mass of the building, 
 and taken from the spire, will greatly diminish the apparent elevation of 
 the latter. The height of the edifice is very much lost in its bulk. It 
 even forms a base for the lighter part, and in some degree a standard by 
 which to measure it. Afterwards, however, in walking round the town, 
 and seeing the cathedral in different points of view, I gave to the height 
 its full value. The impression was not that of a very high steeple, but of 
 a very lofty church : an effect greatly enhanced by its fine situation, on 
 the summit of a hill, with the town collected at its foot. The whole 
 height of the new spire is 403 English feet. The upper part of the tower 
 and the spire, are of the most light and beautiful work imaginable. The 
 
 H 
 
 V 
 
50 CATHEDRAL AT CHARTRES. 
 
 ornaments are executed with the greatest delicacy, and in entire relief, the 
 stems of the vines, and the bunches of grapes which enrich the mouldings 
 being entirely detached, and the work suspended merely by the extremities 
 of the leaves ; and all the veins and ribs are shown as if they were to be 
 seen at hand, instead of at an elevation of 300 feet. Even parts, which 
 cannot be seen at all from below, are finished with the same care. The 
 staircase, by which one ascends this spire, forms a little tower of itself, 
 also of open work, quite independent of that which supports the spire. 
 The opposite spire is much more solid and simple in its form, and seems 
 to be part of the edifice of Fulbert ; its height is 365 feet, and its appear- 
 ance is more like that of Norwich than any other English spire I am ac- 
 quainted with, but the resemblance is not at all continued in the tower 
 which supports it. There are several pinnacles rising above the base of 
 the spire, and the whole composition is more Gothic than at Norwich. 
 As the cathedral was two or three times destroyed by fire, before it was 
 erected in its present form, i. e. before the time of Fulbert, it is possible 
 that some of the lower part of this tower belonged to an earlier edifice ; the 
 pointed arch is however exhibited in it. The whole western front is very 
 beautiful. The porch is ornamented with statues and columns, as at Rheims 
 and Amiens, but not in such profusion, nor is it so deep The execution is 
 also more stiff and rude, and the resemblance is probably much stronger 
 to the western doorway of St. Germain, as it existed before the revolution, 
 than to either of these buildings. Some of the statues are merely stuck 
 to the little columns behind them, under others there is a projection to 
 receive the feet, but very small, and apparently insufficient. Over them are 
 small canopies, which are likewise attached to the shaft of the column. 
 The capitals of these columns, instead of foliage, are formed of little figures, 
 with canopies over them, surmounted by what have the appearance of 
 little models of large buildings. It is remarkable that, although the 
 arches of this doorway are somewhat pointed, yet the architecture repre- 
 sented in the models never is so. In the south portal, on the contrary, 
 which I shall describe by and by, where these models are tenfold more 
 abundant, a considerable number have pointed arches. This circum- 
 stance seems very extraordinary if this western doorway was built, as 
 is asserted, eighty-five years after the southern porch. Over the great 
 door is a triple window, the middle division being the largest and highest, 
 the only instance of this disposition in the building. Above this is a 
 
CATHEDRAL AT CHARTRES. 51 
 
 magnificent rose window, but of simpler arrangement, and a larger portion 
 of solids than we find in those of a later date. The windows of the nave 
 and choir are also terminated by a rose, but with this singular difference, 
 that in the great roses the exterior is ornamented with mouldings, while 
 the internal faces are plain ; in the smaller ones, on the contrary, the in- 
 ternal faces are moulded and the outside is plain. 
 
 The southern porch is very curious on many accounts. It was built, as 
 I have already said, in 1060, by Jean Cormier, physician to Henry I. 
 This date is important, because it seems exceedingly well authenticated, 
 and the addition of the porch proves the church, if not finished, yet to 
 have been in a state of great forwardness at that period. There are 
 openings, not arched, but square-headed, combining all the parts of this 
 porch into a sort of open portico. It abounds with detached shafts, of 
 which there are none within the church, with large and small figures, and 
 with models of architecture, in some of which, as I have already remarked, 
 the pointed arch is exhibited. The arches of the porch itself are all 
 pointed. The footstools of the figures are usually themselves grotesque 
 human figures, and many of them with crowns. These statues, and the 
 canopies over them, are much better managed than in the western front. 
 They are rudely finished, but the labour bestowed on the lace of some of 
 the garments shews that this rudeness was the effect, not of negligence, 
 but of want of skill. The foliage of the capital of the columns spreads 
 over the underside of the canopy. Above the porch is a range of five 
 windows, of equal size and height, and over these a rose window. In the 
 transept at Amiens, the angular spaces between a similar range of arches, 
 and a circle above them, are opened, and form additions to the rose win- 
 dow ; here they are closed, and no attempt is made to unite them. There 
 is, as usual, a gallery in front of the gable, and at each end of this gallery 
 is a small octangular tower, surmounted by a spire. This seems to have 
 been a common mode of finishing in the early French Gothic ; it occurs 
 at a church in Soissons, which bears all the marks of antiquity ; and in 
 other places. The general opening of the windows, both in the clerestory 
 and aisles, in this church, is round-headed, but they are divided by a large 
 plain mullion (such as I have never seen elsewhere) into two parts, each 
 of which has a pointed arch, and over them is a rose. 
 
 It was, perhaps, part of the original design to have a tower on each 
 side of each end of the transept, and one on each side of the choir, but 
 
 H 2 
 
52 
 
 CATHEDRAL AT CHARTRES. 
 
 the parts which are now exhibited of these towers, above the roofing of 
 the church, seem to be of later date ; none of them are finished, and what 
 has been performed of the two latter does not correspond with the work 
 of the other four. These are ornamented with numerous little shafts, 
 extremely long and slender, most of which are united to the solid masonry, 
 but those at the angles are detached, in order to give an exaggerated ap- 
 pearance of lightness. I imagine them to be posterior to those of Notre 
 Dame, at Paris, but earlier than those at Rheims ; but among the various 
 efforts which ultimately completed the first mentioned of these churches, 
 we cannot determine during which the towers were built, and the priority 
 of date is left in great uncertainty, for the style of building is not decisive, 
 or rather, I have not sufficient knowledge to be able to determine it from 
 that character. The northern front of the cathedral at Chartres presents 
 a similar style of ornament, but without the projecting porch, which 
 makes so important and interesting a feature on the south. 
 
 Chartres is very rich in painted glass ; in this respect it far exceeds any 
 other cathedral I have seen ; the colours are deep, without losing their 
 brilliancy, and the light is stronger than at Rheims, although the windows 
 of the aisles, with only one or two exceptions, are painted, as well as those 
 of the clerestory. The glass is said to be half an inch thick ; I believe 
 this is not much thicker than some of the old glass in York cathedral. 
 Many of the windows contain escutcheons. This church is 461 feet long 
 internally, and the vaulting is 113 feet high, the piers of the nave are 
 composed alternately of octagonal pillars, with four circular shafts attached 
 to them, and of circular pillars, with as many octagonal shafts attached to 
 them. All the arches and the vaulting are pointed, except perhaps (and of 
 this I am not sure), that the cross vaulting of the nave may be of circular 
 arches. The construction of the roof has been much praised, but it is not 
 good ; the timbers are all small, and the trusses are very close together. 
 At the point of the choir there is as usual a maitre poutre of immense size, 
 which you are told supports the whole roof, but which in fact supports 
 nothing, being itself suspended by the converging rafters. There is a 
 space of about six feet between the tie-beam and the top of the vaults. 
 
 The single story of side aisles, the polygonal end of the choir, the piers 
 which support the groins behind it, and the windows of the choir single, 
 and not disposed by threes, all unite to refer this building to the second 
 style of French Gothic ; which the greater massiveness of the work, and 
 
CATHEDRAL AT CHARTRES. 
 
 53 
 
 the presence of some circular arches in the towers, might otherwise ren- 
 der doubtful. The single story of aisles and the greater height of the 
 building seem to indicate a later period than Notre Dame at Paris, but 
 on the other hand the smaller windows, surmounted in the nave by a sin- 
 gle rose, the more solid divisions of the great rose windows, and the style 
 of finishing externally, announce an earlier stage of the art. If I had to 
 estimate the date from the architecture, I should be very much puzzled by 
 many peculiarities, either very rare, or not met with elsewhere ; but on 
 the whole, excepting a portion of the towers, I could not have placed it 
 before 1150. 
 
 With good proportions, beautiful parts, and finely coloured windows, 
 you will conclude that the whole impression produced is sublime ; but I 
 wish I had you here, where you would find some better proof of this, than 
 the cold conviction of your reason. The people seemed very devout, and 
 were all day long kissing the pedestals, and various parts of the decora- 
 tive architecture, about a figure of the virgin, which is almost black. In 
 this part of France the virgin is usually represented with a very dark 
 complexion ; and such is, I believe, the case with the most popular images 
 of her in all Catholic countries. There is a labyrinth in the pavement 
 which is said to be a league, measured along all its folds ; a countryman 
 applied to me to know if this was true. I told him it was impossible, and 
 shewed him that the number of turns, multiplied by the length of the mid- 
 dle one, only gave 1320 feet, but he was determined to believe as his fathers 
 had believed before him. 
 
 I must not quit the cathedral without mentioning the beautiful shrine- 
 work which surrounds the choir, to see which is alone well worth a journey 
 to Chartres. It consists of forty-five compartments, forming a sort of conti- 
 nued gallery, and contains in all about two hundred and fifty figures, each of 
 three feet high. It is a very curious specimen, both for the extreme delicacy 
 of the workmanship, and as a model of the last period of Gothic architecture 
 in France. It is complete point lace in stone, and some of the threads are 
 not thicker than the blade of a penknife. The style is rich and beautiful, or 
 at least many parts are beautiful ; but as a whole, it wants simplicity, and is 
 inferior in design to the architecture of King's College chapel at Cambridge, 
 and perhaps even to Henry VII. chapel at Westminster ; but the extreme 
 intricacy of the multiplied ornaments in the last-mentioned building does 
 not please me. In the work at Chartres the disposition of the masses is 
 
54 
 
 NOTRE DAME AT PARIS. 
 
 much more simple and intelligible, but the tracery and detail of the orna- 
 ments are even more confused. It is worthy of notice that the vaulting 
 continues entirely simple, and without any trace of the palm-tree branching, 
 exhibited in that of King's College chapel, or of the still more complicated 
 arrangement of that of Redcliff church at Bristol. This fine work is in 
 two series, the first of which is said to have been executed with the surplus 
 of the money raised for erecting the spire. It is precisely of the same style 
 as that erection, if we make allowance for its greater delicacy, adapted to 
 the different nature of the work ; but no dates are marked on it : this forms 
 the largest part. The second series exhibits some traces of the knowledge 
 of Roman architecture, and has dates from 1523 to 1530. This is orna- 
 mented with arabesques in imitation of the Italian cinque cento. I observed 
 two dates of a later period, T. Bovdin Mil vi*" xi, and a similar inscription 
 of 1612, but there is no difference of style to account for them. 
 
 I was led by the accounts of Chartres to suppose I should find some 
 vestiges of very high antiquity in the crypt under the cathedral, but I was 
 disappointed ; there seems to be nothing but what is coeval with the build- 
 ing, and the vaults do not extend under the whole edifice, but only under 
 the chapels and side aisles. The people in this neighbourhood are more 
 unfavourably disposed towards the Bourbons than those who live to the east 
 of Paris. A woman observed that I was one of those who had brought back 
 Louis XVIII. She had nothing to say against them or him, but the tones 
 of her voice did not promise that she would say any thing for either. The 
 conducteur of the diligence perhaps was not a Napoleonite. " Whether 
 God or the devil. Napoleon or Louis XVIII. be on the throne," he ob- 
 served, " the laws should be obeyed. There were revolutions in France 
 before this, of which they talk so much ; for instance, in the times of 
 Charles V., who drove the English out of France ; and if the French 
 were now as devoted to their country as they were then, these things could 
 never have happened." I could not be displeased with any Frenchman 
 for a feeling of soreness at the interference of foreigners in the affairs of 
 his country, however political circumstances may have required it. 
 
 The two churches last described, and that of Notre Dame at Paris, 
 may be considered as belonging to a style of Gothic, intermediate between 
 the first and second of those I have enumerated ; and as I wish to give you 
 a sort of historical series elucidating the progress of architecture, I shall 
 here introduce some account of the French metropolitan edifice. This is 
 
n6tRE dame at PARIS. 
 
 55 
 
 said to have been originally fonnded by Childebert, in 522. It had 30 marble 
 columns, and very large windows, according to the account left us of it 
 by Fortunatus, a cotemporary poet.* This description, however, has no- 
 thing to do with the present building, which was commenced in 1010 by 
 Robert the Pious. After his death it was neglected, and little was done 
 till 1165, when Maurice de Sully, a liberal and munificent prelate, filled the 
 see of Paris, and to him we seem to have been indebted for the greater 
 part of the edifice. He destroyed the old church of Childebert, which 
 had existed till this period ; and in the year 1181 the eastern part was so 
 far advanced, that it was consecrated by Henry, the Pope's legate, and 
 by the bishop himself, who died the next year. Odo de Sully succeeded, 
 and prosecuted the work with groat zeal till his death in 1208, so that for 
 forty-three years from the resumption of the work, it was carried on with 
 spirit, and we must suppose a large portion of it was completed. Pierre de 
 Nemours, who died in 1220, is thought to have finished the nave and 
 western front. The last figure of a king exhibited in its galleries is that 
 of Philip Augustus, who died in 1223, and this is one reason for suppos- 
 ing it finished in his reign, but it is not a very strong one. The south 
 transept was not, however, begun till 1257, as we are informed bv a Go- 
 thic inscription on the porch, and an ancient church of St. Stephen was 
 then destroyed to make room for it. The present rose window was re- 
 newed on the model of the ancient one in 1726. The date of the north 
 transept is unknown ; it probably preceded the south ; but its porch and 
 chapels are assigned by Le Grand to the fourteenth century. 
 
 The front is heavy, but not so heavy as usually represented in engrav- 
 ings ; I think this appearance arises in part from the square solidity of the 
 towers, and in part from the horizontal lines being marked too strongly, a 
 circumstance which always produces a bad effect in Gothic architecture. I 
 have not been able to determine whether it was intended to crown these 
 towers with spires : I am inclined to answer in the affirmative, but rather 
 from analogy than from direct proof. According to Landon there were 
 twenty-five statues of kings in the arches over the western porch, viz. 
 thirteen of the first race, nine of the second, and seven of the Capetian. 
 They entirely filled one range of arches and no more. Now there are 
 two ranges of arches above the doorways in this front, the lower of which, 
 according to the elevation given by the same author, presents twenty-four 
 
 * Whittington, p. 147, et seq. 
 
56 
 
 NOTRE DAME AT PARIS. 
 
 niches, and the upper twenty-six. Query, how many statues were there, 
 and where did they stand ? Felibien, in his plate of the elevation, which is 
 much better than Landon's, figures twenty-eight niches in the lower arcade, 
 viz. nine in the middle, seven on one side, and eight on the other, and four 
 on the buttresses. The upper arcade is a gallery not intended for statues, 
 the middle part of which is open on both sides. The arches of the lower 
 range have trefoil heads, and appear from below to be entirely composed 
 of models of architecture. The canopies of the portal abound also with 
 models of architecture, resembling in this, and in the style of sculpture, the 
 south portal at Chartres. Perhaps the design of these, though not the 
 execution, may be attributed to the time of Maurice de Sully, in 1165, but 
 this brings the date a century later than that of Chartres. I wish very 
 much to discover that the south porch in that cathedral was of 1160, in- 
 stead of 1060, but I cannot persuade myself that the physician of Henry 
 I. lived to build it a hundred years after his sovereign's death. The Ma- 
 tilda mentioned as having contributed to the church, may be the widow of 
 the emperor. 
 
 Whittington says, " The eastern end, which is triagonal and very plain, 
 was probably one of the first Gothic structures in France (1 168). This plain- 
 ness, from a proj)er regard to uniformity, was maintained in the subse- 
 quent part of the building, excepting in the chapels, which are of later 
 date ;" this I do not comprehend ; the eastern end is semi- circular, and is 
 richly ornamented externally with slender shafts, and spires of different 
 heights, which may perhaps have been added at the same time with the 
 chapels, if these are indeed posterior, but assuredly they do not make part 
 of them. It seems to me that those parts which remain without ornament 
 have never been completed, for they exhibit abrupt terminations, which 
 were not in the taste of the Gothic architects at any period. All the flying 
 buttresses are exceedingly slender, and altogether the construction of 
 Notre Dame, may be considered as among the boldest, and most success- 
 ful, existing in Gothic architecture ; although even here we find some traces 
 of the too great operation of the thrust of the arches of the side aisles. 
 
 On entering Notre Dame one is struck with the double range of side 
 aisles and open chapels besides, making an entire width of seven divisions, 
 instead of five, as at Amiens, or three, as in our churches. It is generally 
 supposed, that if two dimensions of a building are great, they will appear 
 of less magnitude if the third be great also. For instance, in a very large 
 
CATHEDRAL AT RHEIMS. 
 
 57 
 
 building, great height will diminish the apparent extent in the plan, great 
 length will diminish the apparent width, and a narrow room will look higher 
 than a wide one of the same height and length. Yet certainly the im- 
 pression of space is much less at Notre Dame, than in the narrower and 
 loftier edifice at Amiens. One of our travellers has estimated the size of 
 Notre Dame as about half that of Westminster Abbey ; and some 7ion ar- 
 chitectural friends with whom I have talked on the subject, thought that 
 he perhaps underrated it, but that certainly the French building was 
 much smaller than the English. Notre Dame is 416 feet long internally, 
 and 153 wide : the length of the transept hardly surpassing the width of 
 the nave and side aisles. Westminster Abbey is 360 feet long and 72 
 wide. The transept, indeed, is 195 feet long, but the whole internal 
 area of the French building must be at least twice as much as that of the 
 English. Whence is this very false estimate of its size ? Does it depend 
 merely on the injudicious arrangement of the parts, or is it in some degree 
 to be attributed to a patriotic determination to find every thing best in 
 our own country ? Here are two stories of side aisles, and this double 
 range, and the very slender columns which divide the openings of the 
 upper, are in some points of view very pleasing. There are three arches 
 over each of the larger openings below, united into one common arch ; but 
 the space included between the three smaller arches and the larger one is 
 a blank wall. This has a very bad effect, especially as it is a part in which 
 we are accustomed to expect ornament ; indeed the arrangement of this 
 gallery is inferior to that before noticed in Notre Dame at Chalons. The 
 vaulting of the nave and choir is with oblique groins, as at Beauvais and 
 Mantes. The vaulting itself, according to Millin, is only 6 inches thick. 
 
 With the cathedral of N6tre Dame I conclude what I had in my mind 
 to say to you of the progress of Gothic architecture, previous to its full 
 development in the cathedrals of Amiens and Beauvais. Another proud 
 specimen of architecture of that period is found in the cathedral of 
 Rheims. It was founded, we are told, in 818, but I have some doubt 
 whether the early structure thus spoken of was not the church of St. 
 Remi, and not one occupying the site of the present cathedral. It was 
 burnt in 1210, together with great part of the city of Rheims. A new 
 cathedral was immediately begun, but the ancient crypt was left ; now we 
 are not shewn any ancient crypt at the cathedral, but there is one at St. 
 Remi. The work went on with great rapidity, for the altar was dedicated 
 
 I 
 
58 
 
 CATHEDRAL AT RHEIMS. 
 
 on the 18th October, 1215, and the body of the church was finished in 
 1241. It appears probable that this finishing does not include the famous 
 western front, which however was completed before 1295. Thus you see 
 the bulk of the building was erected in thirty-one years ; while at Paris two 
 active bishops could not bring theirs to so forward a state by forty-three 
 years of persevering exertion, although the foundations were previously laid, 
 and probably a considerable quantity of materials prepared, and although 
 the transept was not included. The size was not much greater, and the ex- 
 pense must have been decidedly less, on account of the inferior richness of 
 the latter building. This difference is rather surprising, especially when 
 we take into consideration, that the Parisian bishops had the support of 
 the monarch. Of the portal, or west front, the plate in Whittington is 
 the best I have seen, though it retains many errors of a large but very bad 
 engraving, published in 1625. It must have been partly copied from this, 
 or from some other, which may be traced to a common origin, but not with- 
 out a reference to the building, because several mistakes are rectified, and 
 the^ details are better given, though the drawing is on a much smaller 
 scale. One important error is not to be attributed to the old plate ; the 
 octagonal turrets placed at each angle of the western towers, are not 
 closed, but entirely open, consisting merely of the slender shafts, which 
 are kept in their upright position by numerous iron ties. The part above 
 the arches supported by these shafts is the base of an unfinished spire, 
 and the whole summit of the towers is evidently of a temporary nature ; 
 even as a temporary finish, however, there neither are, nor apparently 
 ever were, any fleurs de-lys. 
 
 In the richness and magnificence of the external architecture, Rheims 
 is superior to any other cathedral I have seen, and probably to any which 
 has ever been erected. Whittington's plate above cited will give a tolerably 
 correct idea of the western front, but none, of the effect produced by the 
 same profusion, extended over the whole surface of a great building. I do 
 not know whether the view of the back of the choir is not even more 
 striking than that of the great entrance, the buttresses all terminating in 
 little spires, all the parts running up into pinnacles, all subordinate to a 
 spire, 256 feet in height, which crowns the rond point, and is surmounted 
 by an angel of gilt bronze. I do not know, by the bye, whether this angel 
 be of gilt bronze, but I know that such a piece of magnificence existed at 
 Ghartres, and my imagination, rather perhaps than my memory, pictures 
 
CATHEDRAL AT RHEIMS. 
 
 59 
 
 it here. Nothing but an angel would do in such a place, the situation is 
 far too dangerous for that of any human being. This spire on the chevet, 
 perhaps rather hurts than assists the general effect of the church, when seen 
 from a distance, but after passing near the back of the choir, no one could 
 wish it away, and if the spires in front, and whatever was intended in the 
 centre, were completed, it would probably form an agreeable accessory from 
 every point of view. All these spires and pinnacles are richly decorated, 
 and what is more, the ornaments are highly beautiful, both in design and 
 execution ; the sort of plume which finishes some of the pinnacles, is one 
 of the most graceful terminations I have met with. There are some 
 trifling differences of detail in the corresponding parts, but the general form 
 is always similar, and the character is uniformly preserved. None of these 
 differences are distinguishable without examination. 
 
 Passing from the outside to the interior, the first circumstance which 
 struck me was the obscurity of the nave, contrasted with the light of the 
 aisles. The coloured glass of the former has been preserved, while that 
 of the lower windows has very little colour. The opposite disposition of 
 white glass in the clerestory, and coloured in the nave, would be prefer- 
 able, yet this has a better effect than I should have expected a priori, 
 and I conceive would even find advocates. It is probably owing to this ar- 
 rangement that the coloured glass at Rheims seems to have little brilliancy. 
 The whole length of the building is 466 feet, that of the clerestory 386, the 
 width of the latter 47. The nave is 121 feet in height ; the aisles I suppose 
 about 54 feet, or something less than half : all the parts are well finished, 
 but the interior has by no means the predominating beauty of the exte- 
 rior. We may judge of details by rule, but the only true method of 
 estimating the excellence of an architectural composition is by the senti- 
 ment it produces. I must acknowledge that this is in some respects, an 
 uncertain criterion, as the impression produced depends in part upon the 
 temper of the mind at the moment, and even on the feelings of the body. 
 However, we may make allowances, and Ave may repeat the trial under 
 different circumstances. It is on this ground that I pronounce the inside 
 of the cathedral at Rheims to be inferior to that of Amiens or of Chartres. 
 The capitals of the columns of the nave in this cathedral are of very full 
 and deep relief; the foliage runs round the capital, and is often very 
 gracefully disposed ; this is a step towards the third style of French 
 Gothic, the first and second having in general only detached leaves or 
 
 I 2 
 
60 
 
 ROMAN ANTIQUITIES. 
 
 figures. The construction of the roof is very curious : the architect 
 seems to have intended to gain double strength by applying a king-post 
 truss on each side of the timbers of a queen-post truss. The latter rises 
 on the outside of the walls, the former on the inside, and its principal 
 rafters meet in a point considerably lower than if they followed the direc- 
 tion of those of the other truss. The tie-beams are about 12 feet above 
 the point of the vaulting. All the timbers are said to be of chesnut, and 
 the proof is, that no spiders are found upon it. Over the great arches of 
 the intersection are four semicircular arches, evidently intended to dis- 
 charge the weight of a central tower or spire, from the pointed arches of 
 the internal vaulting, and therefore proving the intention of raising such 
 a tower. From the frequent mention we find of central towers in the de- 
 scriptions of the French churches, it is probable that this intention was 
 coeval with the design of the church. Of all these described stone central 
 towers or pyramids, however, I have not had the good fortune to meet 
 with one, and a large proportion of them seems to have been destroyed. 
 
 Besides its Gothic architecture, Rheims has to boast an interesting 
 relic of Roman times. It is unfortunately built up in the modern wall of 
 the city, and not easily seen, except in a general view of such parts as 
 project from the face of the later work. Three columns and an arch are 
 sufficiently visible, and parts of three other columns ; and enough remains 
 to enable one to make out the plan, and to shew that there were three 
 nearly equal arches, and eight columns disposed in four pairs ; the larger 
 intercolumns are of course occupied by the arches, the smaller have 
 niches and medallions ; the entablature is entirely gone, but it is possible 
 to creep into a vault in the thickness of the city wall, where we see near 
 at hand the soffite of one of the arches, with the ancient stucco. The de- 
 sign was not very simple, but the execution is good for its purpose. The 
 flutes of the columns finish square under the capital. The astragal of the 
 necking has been cut ; the capitals are too much wasted to form any de- 
 cided opinion from them, but on the whole it appears to be a monument 
 of a good period. 
 
 There is also a vaulted chamber, probably a sepulchre, which was dis- 
 covered in 1738. The vault is ornamented with octagonal compartments 
 and roses, in stucco, and the walls with painting. I did not see it, and 
 only know it from a little printed description, for which I am indebted to 
 the kindness of Comte Gregoire. 
 
61 
 
 LETTER V. 
 
 RETURN TO PARIS. 
 
 Paris, June, 1816. 
 
 I HAVE tried your patience in my last two letters with long disquisitions 
 on architecture and on dates. I propose to give you in this, a little more 
 of what Humboldt would call my personal narrative, i. e. to mention 
 every thing which I think will at all interest you, but for which I have 
 prepared no other place. I dined every day at Rheims at the table 
 d'hote, the time for which was five o'clock, but it was called half-past 
 four. The company usually assembled a few minutes before dinner, and 
 consisted in all of about twenty persons ; five of them wei e members of 
 a Jure, of a sort of court of appeal: who the others were I cannot tell 
 you : there were some changes every day, but several were constant at- 
 tendants. In England we so constantly see fish at the commencement of 
 the entertainment, that we fancy this to be its natural place. In France the 
 order of dishes follows rather the mode of dressing than the substance of 
 the meat, and you have first boiled, then fried, afterwards stewed, and at 
 last roast. Birds in each mode follow the more solid food, and here, 
 with the roast meat, we often had plain boiled fish. The French rarely 
 eat the meat and vegetables together, each is considered as a distinct 
 dish, and eaten separately ; indeed all the mixtures are made in the 
 kitchen, and you hardly ever see a Frenchman unite in his plate the con- 
 tents of two different dishes — that is the cook's privilege. Thus you 
 see the spirit of independence distinguishes us from our neighbours even 
 in these trifles. Last came cheese, pastry, and fruit. Among the last 
 were always walnuts, and one of our amusements was to crack them in 
 various modes. The man who bore the bell in this exercise placed the 
 back of a knife on the nut, and struck the edge wath the naked palm of 
 his hand, so forcibly as not merely to break the shell, but to smash it com- 
 pletely. French knives are seldom very sharp, but these were nearly 
 new, and better than common, and I have often met with blunter at an 
 English table. The conversation, as you may suppose, was various : po- 
 litics were sometimes incidentally mentioned, but never formed the di- 
 
62 
 
 PROMENADES. 
 
 rect subject. The institution of juries seemed to be considered too good 
 to admit of any question. An advocate related to us various stories 
 which had occurred to him professionally ; and as they were well told, I 
 was much interested by them. One was of a Chouan chief, who being 
 accused of rebellion, was desirous, against the opinion of his advocate, of 
 clearing himself by certain witnesses of expurgation. I do not recollect 
 the term, but the fact was, that these witnesses were to give evidence on 
 oath, not merely as to character, but also to express their full assurance 
 of his innocence. I do not know if any thing of this sort now exists in 
 France, or whether it was general at the time the advocate was speaking 
 of, or confined to some province : you will recollect, that we had such a 
 custom in the ecclesiastical courts in England. The first witness called, 
 said that he knew personally nothing about the prisoner, but relying on 
 common report, he believed him to be a rebel. The poor Chouan fainted 
 on finding his hopes thus blasted, but the advocate taking advantage of 
 the name, which was a common one in the country, contrived, by con- 
 founding him with other persons, to get him off. 
 
 Some time afterwards, as the lawyer was travelling from Bayonne to 
 Rochelle, the diligence was attacked by a party of rebels, but he being 
 asleep, did not at first comprehend what was the matter, till one of his 
 companions pulling him by the arm, and at the same time calling him by 
 name, told him he must get out. The chief of the robbers hearing the 
 name, inquired for further particulars, and on learning who he was, em- 
 braced him eagerly, and though his face was half covered with a mask, 
 the advocate felt his tears on his own cheeks. There was some money 
 belonging to government in the carriage ; this was taken ; but the Chouan 
 would permit none of the private property to be touched, and gave to the 
 driver a pass, by means of which they arrived safely at Rochelle, through 
 three other bands which infested the road. The advocate wrote a parti- 
 cular account of the whole story and sent it to a gazette, but the govern- 
 ment of the day, unwilling to have it acknowledged that a Chouan could 
 possess gratitude, or any good feeling, would not permit the publication. 
 
 Just out of Rheims there is a fine public promenade, planted with 
 several rows of good sized trees, with many diverging paths ; it leads 
 from the highest gate of the town, down to the water-side, and is really 
 a very pleasant place in itself, and particularly so in a country so generally 
 bare as this is. No French town of any size seems to be without an ac- 
 
JOURNEY TO SOISSONS. 
 
 63 
 
 commodation of this sort, which is alike conducive to the beauty of the 
 place, to health and pleasure. Why is it that we have so few examples 
 of the sort in England ? Is it that our taste, or our pride, would not per- 
 mit us to enjoy it ? Or does it proceed from a sort of stinginess, which so 
 strongly pervades some of our public institutions, while in others they 
 are characterized by the opposite vice of profusion ? Beyond the prome- 
 nade is a public garden, called Trianon. Here a ball was given one 
 evening, the price of admission to which was two sols, " mie mise decente" 
 was essential, but a person might be admitted in jacket and trowers. 
 Some persons were dancing in a small garden by the light of a few lamps, 
 and others were looking on, but the company was not numerous, and my 
 companion complains that dancing is gone out of fashion in France. 
 Nobody, he says, dances now but old women and children. 
 
 The weather was very cold at Rheims, and one morning (2nd May) 
 even frosty ; the last day of my residence there was wet. The diligence 
 to Soissons, on Sunday, being full, I hired a carriole, which is something 
 much like a taxed cart, but lined with tapestry. We were seated on a 
 bundle of straw ; there were two horses, one between the shafts, and one 
 outrigger. The first part of our road lay through an open common field, 
 as usual, but on looking back, the appearance of the cathedral was very 
 fine. The two towers, rising at the end of the long range of building, 
 put me in mind of Westminster Abbey, though nothing can be more 
 different when the parts are considered separately. The latter part of 
 our journey seemed somewhat more pleasant, but a mizzling rain would 
 not permit us to enjoy it. 
 
 Before reaching Soissons, our outrigger, which carried the postillion, 
 became very restive, and we dismounted. As soon as he seemed a little 
 more quiet we got in again, but were hardly seated, before the horse began 
 again to kick and twist himself about : in a few moments the postillion 
 was on the ground. I jumped out, and ran to him, but he had already 
 disengaged himself. He was entangled in the traces, and seemed to be 
 among the horses' feet, so that I expected to have found him with half his 
 bones broken, but he was not materially hurt. The vicious animal did 
 not cease kicking till he had thrown himself down and broken the traces. 
 He was afterwards quiet enough, and we reached Soissons without 
 farther difficulty at about half-past three. After dinner I walked out, in 
 spite of the bad weather. The first object was the ruin of the church of 
 
64 
 
 SOISSONS. 
 
 St. John the Baptist. The two western towers only remain, each crowned 
 with a spire ; the rest was destroyed at the revolution, and some huge 
 masses of masonry lie scattered about, the remains of the ancient edifice, but 
 no vegetation yet softens the crudeness of the ruin ; no mosses or lichens 
 break the harshness of the lines, and give richness and variety of colour ; 
 no venerable trees spread their majestic branches around, and by their 
 deep and solemn shade give spirit and relief to the building. The inha- 
 bitants of Soissons obtained permission for these towers to remain as 
 ornaments to their city, and even as they are, they are very beautiful, 
 and time will render them more so. They are of a late Gothic, with the 
 characteristic compound arch in the details, and enriched points to the 
 trefoils. Each tower terminates in a small spire, but it preserves, quite 
 to the bottom, a pyramidal form. I took my course along the rampart, 
 where there has been a broad walk, but it was cut up by the garrison in 
 order to raise defences against the Prussians in the last war. The effort 
 was of little use, and the town suffered much ; the greatest scene of ruin 
 was where a powder magazine blew up ; it divided the fortifications quite 
 to the foundation, destroyed all the houses near it, injured a great many 
 more, and shattered the windows throughout the place. Repairs are com- 
 menced, but the town in general looks very melancholy and forlorn, and 
 the windows of the cathedral are still patched with straw. I continued 
 my walk along the rampart, but the thick weather did not permit me to 
 see much of the prospect. It looks, in one part, over the public prome- 
 nade, but the old trees were destroyed by the Prussians, and the present 
 are only about six feet high. What a long time it will take to repair the 
 injury of a few weeks ! The rampart here making a sudden bend, I left 
 it, and passed by what once was a church dedicated to St. Leger. The 
 southern front is of early Gothic, but I shall leave that for a comparison 
 with some other Gothic buildings : I could not obtain admittance. 
 Thence I proceeded through the principal square, where the town-hall 
 once stood. My next object was the cathedral, which, in character, is 
 something like that at Rheims, but far inferior in scale and execution : 
 the south transept finishes in a semicircle, having been the choir of a 
 more ancient church of the early French Gothic. During my absence 
 Mr. Le Blanc found out a vault in the convent of St. Medard which had 
 served as a prison to Louis le Debonnaire, in 833. This day was ob- 
 served as the anniversary of the return of Louis XVIII., and two candles 
 
JARDIN DU ROI. 
 
 were placed, in the evening, on the outside of one of the windows of our 
 room, by way of illumination, and a few drunken soldiers rambled about 
 the streets, crying vive le roi ! White flags, or handkerchiefs, were very 
 generally hung out at the windows during the day, but I saw nothing 
 which indicated any popular enthusiasm in favour of the Bourbons. 
 Next day the weather became yet worse, and in the afternoon, we took 
 our places in the diligence and returned to Paris ; my post, as usual, was 
 in the cabriolet. The conducteur was the son of a man who had a little 
 property of his own of about thirty acres, but he had followed the prince 
 of Conde, to whom he was attached, out of the country, and had lost it 
 all. This story contains nothing improbable, but it is amusing to hear 
 how constantly those in the lower stations of life, had been reduced by 
 the revolution. My blandiisseuse, who is the most graceful woman in 
 the world, and speaks the best French, was obliged to have recourse to 
 washing dirty linen, as the means of gaining a subsistence, in consequence 
 of that event, and there is scarcely a cabriolet driver who has not been a 
 man of some importance. 
 
 This journey presented some very pleasant scenes ; always, I believe, 
 in valleys among the strata lying above the chalk. The forest of Villars 
 Coterie, containing sixty thousand arpents, belonging to the duke of Or- 
 leans, makes an agreeable variety, though it is too uniformly a covert of 
 small trees to be beautiful. Several straight avenues are cut through it ; 
 and when we passed any which looked quite clear and even, and exhibited 
 the sky at the termination ; the conducteur, and a third person in the 
 cabriolet, never failed to pronounce them superbes, magnifiques, or to 
 apply some other epithet equally sounding, and wondered much I did not 
 join in their admiration. We arrived at Paris about seven o'clock, on a 
 fine but cold morning. 
 
 On the 11th of May, at seven in the morning, I attended M. de Fon- 
 taine's lecture on botany at the Jardin du Roi. The room is larger than the 
 lecture room at the Royal Institution in London, but without galleries ; and 
 the entrances are at the top, above the ranges of seats. It had the appear- 
 ance of being pretty nearly full, but this could not be the case, as it is said to 
 hold one thousand two hundred persons, and the number then present was 
 only estimated at six hundred ; this, however, is a good class. The ascent 
 of the steps is very steep, which gives every possible advantage of seeing, 
 but the room is too large ; and those on the back can neither hear nor see 
 
 K 
 
66 
 
 JARDIN DU ROI. 
 
 very distinctly ; besides M. de Fontaine's manner is not calculated for 
 so large a place. He speaks at times very rapidly, and seemed rather to 
 pitch his voice to some ladies near him, than to the remoter part of his 
 audience. The subject was quite elementary, explaining the different 
 parts of plants, and their uses ; without any thing of the principles of classi- 
 fication and of natural affinity, the part in which the French school is sup- 
 posed to excel. The garden used to be called des jilanles, but now du roi. 
 I do not know the reason of the change. It is very large, but only a small 
 portion is appropriated to the science of botany ; it is divided into large 
 squares, by straight and wide walks, which are always open, and form an 
 agreeable promenade, but you cannot enter into the squares without per- 
 mission. One of these is intended to contain a collection of plants ar- 
 ranged according to the system of Jussieu, but it is very defective, espe- 
 cially in the plants of France, a sensible proportion of which are under 
 wrong names. Many parts are much too crowded, as you may easily 
 comprehend, when I tell you that they allot for each forest tree, a space of 
 about four feet square ; other squares are dedicated to experiments in 
 horticulture and agriculture. There is one square appropriated entirely 
 to experiments in standard fruit trees ; some of these have a whimsical 
 appearance, especially those where new roots have been given to old trees. 
 Two, three, four, or even five young slips are planted near the tree intended 
 to be so treated, and the heads being cut off at a proper season, the top of 
 the remaining part is inserted into the old trunk and grows to it. The 
 slips continue to increase in size, and in two or three years the old trunk 
 may be cut away. In some instances the reports are very favourable to 
 this process, and in one case in particular, where the original wood was 
 sound, the addition of these extra roots had made the tree increase very 
 much faster than a neighbouring tree, apparently of equal strength, which 
 had been chosen as an object of comparison. The department of grafts 
 contains also a number of curious particulars, and M. Thouin, the pro- 
 fessor, was so good as to accompany me, and to explain the various 
 experiments. Virgil has said, that if you pass a vine through a walnut- 
 tree, it will bear the most large and beautiful fruit, but bitter and un- 
 eatable. To use M. Thouin's expression, " le fait est faux^' he made 
 several attempts to conduct a vine through the trunk of a walnut-tree, 
 but as soon as it began to enlarge sufficiently to feel the confinement, it 
 uniformly died, and he was never able to procure any fruit from it. He 
 
JARDIN DU ROI, 
 
 then passed a vine through a pear-tree, whose wood being softer, did not 
 compress it so much as entirely to stop its growth ; but the grapes pro- 
 duced above this insertion did not differ in size or flavour from those 
 below. If then, he reasoned, the grapes are altered in size or flavour 
 by passing through a walnut-tree, the converse of the proposition ought 
 to hold good, and we shall alter the walnuts by passing a branch through 
 a vine; the experiment was tried, but both grapes and walnuts remained 
 as they were before. 
 
 Another graft is called ' des charlatans;' Pliny says that Lucullus 
 shewed him a tree producing grapes, apples, pears, cherries, and other 
 fruit, belonging to trees having no relation to each other, from the same 
 root ; and this, he tells us, was effected by grafting. It has been a problem 
 ever since, among gardeners, to produce this tree of Lucullus ; M. 
 Thouin has succeeded, not by grafting, but by planting the several stocks 
 in a hollow trunk. 
 
 From the garden I went into the museum of natural history, which is 
 open to persons with tickets, from eleven to two, three times a week. 
 The first floor contains a large, but ill-disposed room, for fishes and rep- 
 tiles, a library which I did not see, and an extensive suite of rooms for / 
 the collection of minerals. There is an interesting collection of extraneous 
 fossils, and especially of those of the plaster beds at Paris, but, alto- 
 gether, it rather fell short of my expectation, not in the substances, but 
 in their arrangement. We are told also of a geological collection, but the 
 specimens are not geologically disposed. The upper floor is thrown into 
 a single room, divided into several parts, but the divisions are left open at 
 the middle, so that the whole is exposed at one view ; it is very long, of 
 a moderate width, but low in proportion ; and it is either partially, or en- 
 tirely in the roof ; in short, it is by no means handsome, and has com- 
 pletely the look of an enormous garret. I shall give you what I suppose 
 to be the dimensions of each part ; they are wholly from guess, but may 
 help you at least in the comparative sizes. First part 28 x 24, principally 
 monkeys. Second part 60 x 28, contains an elephant, a rhinoceros, and 
 an hippopotamus, all in glass cases ; it looks rather ridiculous to see these 
 enormous things taken so much care of, but they are fine animals and 
 well preserved. An Arabian and Russian horse, the quagga of Vaillant, a 
 zebra, and the young of each of these stand exposed in the room. Other 
 quadrupeds are placed in glass cases around it. Third division, 36 x 28, 
 
 K 2 
 
68 
 
 MONT MARTRE. 
 
 also quadrupeds. After this is a little space forming the segment of a 
 circle, which seems awkward, ugly, and useless. Fourth part 108 x 28, 
 birds all round ; the cases are extremely deep, and the birds, except a few 
 very large ones, are placed on little stands side by side, all facing the 
 spectator and nearly close together, so that little is seen either of the 
 side or back of the bird. This might be the more easily obviated as 
 there are frequently several specimens of the same species. The plate 
 glass of the cases is magnificent. The subjects are well preserved and 
 scientifically arranged. Another segment of a circle follows. Fifth part, 
 36 X 28, also birds ; along the middle of the three divisions, three, four, 
 and five, runs a stand of two tables united. 
 
 and a part rising above them in the middle ; containing a superb collec- 
 tion of insects, shells, zoophytes, podophthalmata, and eggs of birds ; and, 
 since the light is introduced on both sides of the apartment, they are very 
 well seen. Sixth, 60 x 28, quadrupeds, mostly deer and antelopes ; in the 
 middle is a great basking shark, a camel, oxen, and the giraffe killed by 
 Vaillant, 
 
 On the 12th of May I walked up Mont Martre. It is a curious look- 
 ing place, having apparently been, in its original state, a hill neither so 
 high nor so steep as Hampstead Heath, but all the sides have been dug 
 away to procure gypsum, and only the top remains, with the roads 
 leading up to it, presenting all round either steep banks or perpendicular 
 faces. The gypsum is dug out of two beds, of which the upper is, I sup- 
 pose, twenty-five feet thick ; of the lower I did not see the bottom. It 
 has very much the colour and fracture of coarse lump sugar, but the 
 grain is rather finer. Between the two courses, and above the upper, 
 are beds of white clay, at least when dry it appeared quite white ; but 
 there are some intermediate beds of clay and sand of a darker colour, and 
 the whole is crowned by a thick bed of yellow sand, which forms the soil of 
 the summit of the hill. This is a very narrow strip, with a row of windmills, 
 from whence I enjoyed an excellent view. Paris was covered with a little 
 whitish smoke, at least that was the case over the most thickly inhabited 
 part, but nothing like the dense yellow fumes of London. By the appear- 
 
PAINTINGS OF DAVID. 
 
 69 
 
 ance of the horizon, I judged my elevation to be about equal to that of the 
 summit of the Pantheon, and a little above that of the dome of the Inva- 
 lides. The cross at the top of the former is about 280 feet above the 
 pavement, and as this building stands on an elevated spot, Mont Martre 
 must be more than 300 feet above the Seine. Below the quarries, and 
 sometimes between them, are vineyards as open as the corn-fields in 
 England, and mixed with the vines are currant and gooseberry bushes, and 
 a few larger fruit trees. The vine stumps were about three feet a part, 
 and the leaves, which had just begun to appear, were dark and shining. 
 About Chartres the young vine leaf is almost always covered with thick 
 down. Here and there was a bush of hawthorn not yet in flower, 
 whence I conclude the Parisian spring is not a great deal more forward 
 than that of the south of England. 
 
 I leave you to conclude that I have seen the elephant, the catacombs, 
 the observatory, and a hundred other curiosities of this city ; they are too 
 familiar for any novelty of description, yet I ought not entirely to omit a 
 visit to the Ecole des Mines. Here is a superb collection of minerals ; the 
 objects are very numerous, and the specimens frequently very beautiful. 
 The arrangement is by provinces, distinguishing those which are lost to 
 France, from those which still constitute part of the country. It occupies 
 a range of rooms of about 130 feet in length towards the garden, and 
 one or two besides, in which the specimens are arranged mineralogically. 
 There is also on the ground floor a library, and a further collection of mi- 
 nerals. I was likewise conducted to the collection of M. de Dre, which, 
 for the beauty of the specimens, is said to be the finest in Europe. In all 
 these museums, I have been struck with the arrangement which displays 
 every thing at once ; a great deal of room is necessarily given up to this 
 purpose, but it is well applied, for the ease which it offers of reference 
 and comparison, as well as for communicating an air of magnificence 
 which is suitable for public institutions. Two large paintings of David 
 are at present exhibited, and I did not fail to visit them The subject of 
 one is Leonidas about to attack the Persians, after he found that they 
 had discovered a passage over the mountains. That of the other, the in- 
 terposition of the Sabine women who had been carried away by the Ro- 
 mans, to prevent the battle between the two people. The drawing is said 
 to be, and I dare say is, perfectly true to nature, but not to beautiful na- 
 ture. The stories are not very well told, nor the figures well disposed or 
 
70 
 
 FRENCH TRAVELLING. 
 
 well lighted. The relief is excellent, and in spite of the harsh colouring, 
 some of the figures seem quite to stand from the canvass. 
 
 I have already anticipated the results of my excursion to Chartres, 
 Dreux, and Mantes. This journey gave me a better idea than I had be- 
 fore of French cross road travelling. A cabriolet is an enclosed one horse 
 chaise. A pot-de-chambre differs from a cabriolet in being deep enough 
 to admit two seats, one before the other, each seat usually holding three 
 persons, all looking towards the horses ; the back is the seat of honour, 
 but it is a very unpleasant one. The cabriolets de posie will rarely hold 
 more than two persons conveniently, and one I had from Chartres to 
 Dreux, would not even do that. The difference on taking a voiture or 
 a cabriolet de poste, is, that the former does not change horses. Travel- 
 ling post for two or three persons, (independently of food and lodging) costs 
 just three francs per league. For travelling in voiture, you make what 
 bargain you can, but to judge from my own experience, the terms are fa- 
 vourable, when you have to give two francs per league, and a few sous 'pour 
 hoire to the postillion. I paid on the occasion above-mentioned eighteen 
 francs, without understanding whether the precise distance were nine 
 leagues, or only seven, and that two more were allowed for the badness of 
 the road : indeed nothing could be worse. The high roads in France are 
 good, though I am not quite reconciled to the pave ; but the cross roads are 
 very bad, and the worst points are usually in the villages. There is probably 
 more traffic at these parts, and as nothing is ever done to them, they are 
 consequently the worst. The government only takes care of the great 
 roads ; and every thing of public convenience, not done by government, is 
 either neglected, or if performed at all, it is in a very slovenly manner. 
 What is more provoking, is, that one sees heaps of gravel by the road 
 sides, collected from the fields and vineyards, but which it appears to be 
 nobody's business to dispose over the road. We had a very skilful driver, 
 who galloped among the deep ruts, which it seemed impossible to avoid, 
 and still more impossible to follow. Travelling in the royal diligences 
 costs about fourteen sous per league, and you give the postillions two 
 sous each stage, or about one sol per league, and the conductor, perhaps, 
 twice as much, in all seventeen sous ; the league is about two miles and 
 a half English. You may therefore calculate French posting, where you 
 have to hire the carriage as well as the horses, at twenty-four sous, or 
 one shilling per mile ; travelling in voiture at ninepence ; by the dili- 
 
PONT DE NEUILLY — ST. CLOUD. 
 
 71 
 
 gence threepence halfpenny, or for two people, to keep up the compari- 
 son, sevenpence. The scenery on this excursion was better than on the 
 preceding, without being good, except on our return through St. Ger- 
 main en Laye, and Marli, where it is highly beautiful. The Seine winds 
 under a steep woody bank ; the other side of the river is comparatively 
 flat, but well cultivated and well shaded ; I can think of no nearer re- 
 semblance than Richmond Hill. Here is more hill, and consequently more 
 variety, but it has not the richness of the English scene ; and the banks 
 of the Seine are not to be compared with those of the Thames, either for 
 natural or artificial ornament. 
 
 After again returning to Paris, I amused myself with some excursions 
 in the neighbourhood, either on foot, or in some of the conveyances, like 
 our short stages, which abound here. In one of these I passed the bridge 
 at Neuilly, perhaps the most celebrated in France, having five arches, 
 each of 120 feet span, so that the width of the river must be about that 
 of the Thames at London Bridge. The Seine has been called a ditch, 
 but at Paris it is wider than the Thames at Richmond, and at Neuilly, 
 the scale marked a depth of ten feet. In 1740 it rose to 26 feet. In 
 looking along this bridge from the water's edge, the arches all seem ra- 
 ther crippled, perhaps owing to their being formed of segments of circles, 
 but this is not a very obvious defect, and the bridge is certainly very 
 beautiful : if however, the arches were not quite so flat, it would be better. 
 The double line of arch is ungraceful, and were it not very apparent that 
 the outer line is false, the bridge would be ugly. 
 
 After rambling about some time without any particular object in view, 
 I found myself unexpectedly by the palace of St. Cloud. I wondered at 
 first what magnificent building was before me, having quite forgotten that 
 it lay in my route ; but after I had convinced myself of the fact, and ad- 
 mired the noble view from the terrace, I set myself to consider the front, 
 which is composed of a central building, and two advancing wings of 
 smaller elevation ; but it is hardly worth any particular criticism. Read- 
 ing in large letters the usual inscription, " parlez au concierge" I did as 
 I was bid, and immediately entered the palace. The state rooms are very 
 magnificent, yet there is much bad taste, much of mere show and glitter, 
 and great abundance of painted imitations of marble, miserably performed. 
 The Salon de reception is, however, really grand. The hangings are dark 
 crimson, with black roses ; there is a very deep gold border, and gilt mould- 
 
72 
 
 BOTANIQUE RURALE. 
 
 ing ; a rich gilt cornice, and a painted ceiling. This is the only room of 
 which the border is altogether decidedly lighter than the walls, as recom- 
 mended by Mrs. Schimmelpenning, and nothing can be more beautiful 
 than the effect. 
 
 I continued my ramble to cascades without water, and to a tower which 
 is called a pyramid. The river sweeps beautifully under the fine hanging 
 woods of the park, and if the banks are less bold, and the natural scenery 
 less striking than at Marli, the artificial accompaniments, with Paris in 
 the distance, are superior. 
 
 There are at Paris three courses of Botanique rurale, that is, three 
 botanists make weekly excursions with a number of pupils. Jussieu is 
 the public professor of this branch, and his high reputation induced me 
 to wish to join his party. There is no difficulty in it, the lecture is per- 
 fectly open, and no introduction is necessary. On Wednesday, 29th May, 
 I repaired to the appointed place (of which public notice is always given) 
 at the entrance of the avenue of St. Cloud. I was told that the class 
 sometimes amounted to two hundred. On this occasion there were, I 
 suppose, half the number, but it is difficult to judge, as a large portion is 
 always scattered about. It was quite a novelty to botanize in such a 
 crowd, and a very amusing novelty. The party seemed to be taken from 
 all classes, among them were several ladies, and many who had the ap- 
 pearance of gentlemen, but the larger portion, I apprehend, were students 
 in the School of Medicine at Paris, and these are in great measure de- 
 rived from a lower class in society, than that which peoples the English, 
 or even the Scotch universities. No person can exercise the trade of an 
 apothecary, without a certificate of having attended certain courses of 
 botany. Some were evidently mechanics, and one or two private soldiers. 
 It has, I understand, always been the case in France, that among the pri- 
 vate soldiers, there have been some who have attended the different 
 courses. How honourable this is to the French character, and how much 
 more favourable to morals, than where the only resource for an idle hour 
 is the alehouse ! Nor should I be satisfied with the observation, that they 
 would be better employed in working for their families. Man has a right 
 occasionally to relaxation, and to some exciting amusement ; nor do I 
 believe that either his moral or physical health can be well preserved 
 without it. In England, a gentleman or lady would not choose to be seen 
 in such an assembly of all classes ; why is it that our pride will not per- 
 
BOTANIQUE RURALE. 
 
 73 
 
 mit us to enjoy, without excluding our inferiors ? In fact, with all our 
 boast of superior religion and superior charity, there is more of contempt 
 in our manners towards the lower classes, and less of kindness, than in, I 
 believe, any other nation of Europe. It may be merely in manner, and 
 may regard only trifles ; but as nine-tenths of human life is made up of 
 trifles, I am more indebted to him who will make me happy in them, 
 than to him who would relieve me in the other tenth of serious misfor- 
 tune. 
 
 The plan of instruction seemed to be for the students to collect plants, 
 and to present them to Jussieu for names, which they write down, and 
 then preserve the plant, without any examination of the characters. I 
 heard him thus supply names to Veroiiica chamcBdrys, Ranunculus acris, 
 and many other flowers equally common in France and England ; whence 
 you may suppose that no very intimate knowledge of the science is ex- 
 pected from the pupils. In plants of less frequent occurrence, the pro- 
 fessor himself was not very ready, and often appealed to a manuscript list 
 which he carried with him. One brought him Hypnum curvalum, 
 " C'est une mousse," but the student was not satisfied, and Jussieu at last 
 thought it might be H. myosuroides. I do not know if these species 
 have been accurately distinguished in France. Another brought Bromus 
 mollis, he called it B. secalinus, and seemed to me to misname several 
 others ; whence I conclude that he was not ready in distinguishing species : 
 a sort of knowledge which is not, I believe, the forte of the French bota- 
 nists, but which, without overvaluing it, one had certainly a right to ex- 
 pect from the professor of botanique rurale, since it seems to make the 
 exclusive object of his lessons. I confess his employment of thus merely 
 giving names to pupils who know nothing about the matter, must be very 
 tiresome, but it is his own fault that it is so. He might have selected six 
 or eight of the best informed pupils, and have referred to them, all those 
 inquirers who did not know the most common plants, or who wisely de- 
 termined Serapias grandijlora to be a Convallaria; and out of every twelve 
 pupils, I suppose at least ten were in this state, and these of course were 
 the most troublesome. He then v/ould have had leisure to look about a 
 little himself, and to have entered into details with those who were more 
 advanced, and explained to them, as they brought him the different plants, 
 the particulars in each tribe to which they ought chiefly to attend. Those 
 whom he pitched upon to be his assistants would have been proud of 
 
 L 
 
74 
 
 VERSAILLES. 
 
 the office, and the distinction would have been no small stimulus to 
 their exertions. Among the number of pupils with whom I conversed, I 
 found only two who had any idea of examining the plants and judging 
 for themselves : to hear the name given by J ussieu to the individual, 
 and to write it down, seemed to be the whole object of their ambition. 
 
 I professed myself curious about the Orchidece, and every body tells me, 
 as I had before heard in London, that the neighbourhood of Paris is very 
 rich in Orchidece. Oh ! you will find them at Meudon, at Montmorenci, at 
 Sceaux, at St. Maur ; and as long as I deal in generals, I seem to be gain- 
 ing information ; but when I inquire about particular species, and the ex- 
 act places in which they grow ; I find only that the French are very 
 skilful in warding off questions they cannot answer. 
 
 Another of my excursions was to Versailles. The road is not unplea- 
 sant, and I cannot say that I was disappointed in the palace, or in the 
 gardens, for I neither expected nor found them beautiful. The size of 
 the former is, as you know, immense. Internally, there are two principal 
 suites of apartments, one of which is gilt upon a white ground, the other 
 harlequined with different sorts of marble, and enriched with painting and 
 gilding. In general, both are bad; but in the former it seems to be the 
 disposition, and not the nature of the colours which displeases, as the bed- 
 room of Louis XIV., and the antichamber, where the style of decoration 
 is more simple and in better taste, are highly beautiful. In the marbled 
 suite also, a long gallery, on the ceiling of which are painted the exploits of 
 Louis XIV., and a saloon at each end of it, are very handsome ; principally 
 because the architect has been contented with fewer marbles, and disposed 
 them less capriciously. 
 
 In the park, the great object has been to display long, straight avenues 
 of trees ; but the intervening parts are irregularly disposed, and contain 
 corn-fields, meadows, and wild thickets. Even in the gardens, nothing 
 is attended to but straight walks, and near the palace varied figures 
 in coloured sand are disposed upon the grass-plots. There are some 
 noble orange-trees, but they are cut into the form of mops, and the 
 orangery, though a fine building, supporting the terrace, has the air 
 more of a place intended for coolness, than one to secure warmth and 
 light. There are two magnificent flights of steps, but not being directed 
 towards the palace, they are rather deformities than beauties, as they 
 have the appearance of leading to nothing. The water-works are not 
 
ST. DENIS. 
 
 75 
 
 expected to play till the 25th of August. It requires three months to 
 supply the reservoirs, and they are exhausted in half an hour. 
 
 The dishes at a Parisian restaurateur's are sufficiently numerous, but 
 going to one with a party of Frenchmen, I found that it was usual to 
 multiply the number still more, by ordering a portion for two or three 
 persons, and dividing it among a greater number. I pleaded ignorance of 
 French cookery, and left my companions to provide for me, which they 
 did extremely well. I do not know that I have mentioned a practice 
 very common here of ordering a bottle of wine, and only drinking and 
 paying for the half I have seen a man order two bottles of different 
 sorts, and pay for half of each ; and on another occasion, at Legacq's, 
 one of the guests acknowledged to three quarters, and paid accordingly. 
 After dinner we drank our coffee at the Cafe d'Apollon. This is an 
 establishment uniting a coffee-house and a theatre. The stage is a little 
 elevated, and the lower part of the coffee-room forms the pit; above 
 are two ranges of galleries, instead of boxes, provided with seats and 
 tables as below ; the representation is continued great part of the day 
 and all the evening, but there is some legal impediment to the perform- 
 ance of regular pieces, and the actors are not very good. However, the 
 novelty of the thing makes it amusing for once or twice, and the room is 
 handsome. It is furnished on each side with a range of pilasters, orna- 
 mented with gilding, and really good both in design and execution, and 
 the space between the pilasters is filled with looking-glasses, so that the 
 whole is very splendid. 
 
 I have not yet completed all I had to say to you about the Gothic 
 edifices of Paris and its neighbourhood, and indeed it would be unpar- 
 donable to omit the church of the once famous abbey of St. Denis. The 
 first church here is said to have been founded by Dagobert about 629.* 
 We are told by the early writers that it was executed with consummate 
 art ; the columns and the pavement were of marble ; the interior bril- 
 liant with gold, jewels, and precious stones, and the roof of the building 
 immediately over the altar was covered externally with pure silver. In 
 spite of all this magnificence, it was taken down in the following century, 
 to be rebuilt on a larger scale, by Pepin, and it was completed and con- 
 secrated in 7 75 by Charlemagne ; in 865 the abbey was occupied and 
 
 * See Whittington, p. 124, et seq. 
 L 2 
 
76 
 
 ST. DENIS. 
 
 plundered by the Normans, but apparently not destroyed ; and it seems 
 to have remained nearly in the same state till the abbacy of Suger, in 
 1122. This prelate, after repairing the dormitory, refectory, and other 
 parts of the abbey, determined on giving to the church, larger dimen- 
 sions and a more magnificent character ; how much he performed is not 
 certain. It is thought not to have amounted to a complete rebuilding, 
 but that after having restored the towers and the west front, he turned 
 his attention to the interior, and, a part of the church being completed, 
 it was dedicated in 1140. In June, in the same year, he laid the foun- 
 dation of the ro7id point, which was finished in 1144, but after this he 
 still continued his restorations till his death, in 1151. Notwithstanding 
 all that was done at this period, the church was in such a state of decay 
 in 1231, that Eudes Clement undertook to rebuild the greater part of it 
 from the ground, in which he was assisted by St. Louis and his mother 
 Blanche. The choir appears to have been nearly finished under this 
 abbot ; and the rest of the new work, which consists of the transept and 
 nave was carried on by his successors, and terminated under Matthieu 
 de Vendome in 1281. Even the western front is not of one style of 
 architecture, and there is much of it which I feel inclined to attribute to 
 Suger, but which the French antiquaries consider as belonging to the 
 older edifice, while some of our English ones would contend, perhaps, 
 that it was built by Eudes Clement. It is not however of the style 
 adopted in the thirteenth century in France, but corresponds with my first 
 style of French Gothic. The day I was there was cold, and I was unwell ; 
 and the reflection, that I could return at any time, relaxed my efforts, and 
 now I am about to leave Paris, without having repeated my visit. What 
 appears of the inside, I rather believe to be of the thirteenth century 
 than early in the twelfth ; and I should assign to it a later date than 
 that of the cathedral at Amiens, because all the parts are more slender. 
 The windows are very large, and rose-headed. The church seems all 
 window, and as the glass is at present without colour, and the building 
 of a pale stone; the glare is very disagreeable, and diminishes greatly 
 the admiration which the lofty and elegant architecture might justly chal- 
 lenge. Underneath the choir is a crypt, supposed to have been part of the 
 church of Pepin, or, if you will, of Dagobert. Whittington accedes to 
 the former opinion, although some ancient capitals, still remaining, offer 
 
SMALLER GOTHIC CHURCHES. 
 
 77 
 
 models of architecture with the pointed arch ; and I rather suppose them 
 to have been part of the erections of Suger, between 1140 and 1150. 
 On one of them is a curious car, and they are worth notice, whatever 
 the date of them may be. Adjoining to the church is a very beau- 
 tiful sacristy of modern architecture, ornamented with paintings of the 
 present French school, some of which have great merit. 
 
 Having now conducted you, as well as I can, to the conclusion of 
 the thirteenth century, I shall look back, and communicate a few glean- 
 ings of subjects, either less interesting in themselves, or which I have 
 not had opportunity to examine particularly. At Braine sur Vesle, near 
 Soissons, and at Poissy, I observed churches, perhaps rather Norman than 
 Gothic, which seemed to merit investigation. There is a very pretty 
 little church at Soissons decidedly Norman, although the arch of the 
 doorway is slightly pointed. The church of St. Leger, in the same city, 
 founded by St. Gauzlin in 1129, is not of so early a style, but rather of 
 the first Gothic. The southern front has an opening of three equal 
 simple parts, not united in a common arch : above this is a window with 
 three divisions, and a rose in the head, formed of little pillars placed 
 round a centre, probably the earliest form of a rose, or wheel, or mari- 
 gold window, but here rather puzzling, as it only forms part of the 
 opening, whereas we usually find the roses kept perfectly distinct in the 
 terminating windows, till the middle of the thirteenth century. At each 
 angle the buttress takes the form of an octangular turret, ending in a 
 little spire of stone, but carved to represent shingles. The gable has 
 only small, square-headed openings, and rises higher than these spires. 
 
 At Chartres is a church, dedicated to St. Andre, whose western front 
 exhibits a handsome Norman doorway, with a triple window of early 
 Gothic, and over that, the arch of a window of the fourth style, probably 
 of the fifteenth century ; at which time a choir was added to the original 
 church, extending on arches, across the river. This choir is entirely 
 destroyed, but the arches which supported it remain. There is also a 
 handsome Norman gateway in the castle at Dreux. To return to 
 Chartres ; the church of St. Peter is praised by Whittington, at least I 
 suppose him to mean this, by his church and convent of St. Pere, built 
 by Hilduard, a Benedictine monk, in 1170. It is also praised in the 
 description of Chartres which I purchased, but I think with very little 
 reason. The windows of the body of the building, divided by moulded 
 
78 
 
 LATER GOTHIC CHURCHES 
 
 mullions, announce a style decidedly posterior to that of the cathedral. 
 The lower part of the choir, and the aisles, are very rude and heavy, and 
 inay be much more ancient than the upper part. It is now used as a 
 parish church. At Dreux there is a cathedral of late Gothic, but it is not 
 good either in design or execution, nor is it on a large scale : a small piece, 
 however, on one side, is pretty. At Limay, near Mantes, is a Norman 
 tower and spire ; and the present external wall presents a series of arches 
 walled up, which seems to have divided the aisles of the ancient edifice. 
 The inside was so full of people, that I could not enter. The church 
 of St. Germain Auxerre is said to be one of the oldest in Paris : this can 
 only be true of some remaining portions of old work: the west front 
 was built in 1435. The moulded ribs, instead of shafts, the entire want 
 of capitals, and the bases of different heights, would have induced me to 
 assign even a later period. 
 
 St. Jacques de la Boucherie has a fine Gothic tower of the latest style; 
 it was erected in the reign of Francis I. St. Severin, St. Martin, 
 St. Nicholas des Champs, St. Gervais, St. Etienne du Mont, and St. 
 Eustache, form an instructive series of the downfal of Gothic architec- 
 ture in Paris. In general they are not beautiful, yet there are in each of 
 them some happy effects. St. Severin is the best, because the purest 
 Gothic, and it has an air of space and lightness, which is very pleasing ; 
 but it is on a small scale, and the workmanship rude. Some parts of it 
 are of a much earlier style. 
 
 The Count Alexandre la Borde is preparing an interesting work on 
 French antiquities. The monuments of the thirteenth century are plen- 
 tiful in France, and many of them exquisitely beautiful. Buildings of 
 an earlier period are said to be more abundant in the south ; and M. La 
 Borde was so good as to shew me drawings of some ancient churches in 
 those parts, of the greatest magnificence. Large edifices of the fourteenth, 
 and beginning of the fifteenth century are rare, but of these he also has 
 some beautiful drawings. The style of them much resembles that of our 
 decorated Gothic, but what has been very happily called the perpendicidar 
 style seems never to have prevailed in any part of France, either as to 
 the disposition of the tracery in the windows, or to the palm-tree vaulting 
 exhibited in King's College Chapel. There are here and there some 
 traces of an approximation to the latter, but they are heavy and awk- 
 ward. The last specimen free from the decorations of Roman architec- 
 
AT PARIS. 
 
 79 
 
 ture in Paris is, probably, St. Gervais, built in 1581 (omitting all 
 consideration of the western front, which was added in 1616). The first, 
 in which Roman decorations are introduced, is, I believe, St. Eustache, 
 and in this point of view both these churches merit attention ; in the 
 former a crown-like pendant in the centre of the vault of the Lady 
 Chapel is curious, and many think it beautiful. The latter church is 
 altogether Grecian in its parts, throughout the nave and transepts ; 
 but their disposition and arrangement, the lofty proportions, and the 
 general effect, are completely Gothic. The vaulting of the rond point 
 is by a rather complicated system of ribs ; that of the Lady Chapel is 
 still more intricate, and is indeed a very curious example of the archi- 
 tecture of the time, and much admired by the French antiquaries : 
 it is however heavy and unpleasing, and has the air rather of a modern 
 imitation, than of late Gothic. I observed a date of 1640 on one part 
 of the north transept. The church was begun, according to Le Grand, 
 on the 19th of August, 1532, and finished 1642 ; the portico was added 
 in 1754: as that of St. Etienne du Mont was rebuilt by Francis L, the 
 date of these two churches could not have been far apart. 
 
 Even to the last age of French Gothic it is rare to see any mouldings 
 along the ridge of the vault, and the groining, with the exception of the 
 oblique groining which I attempted once to describe to you, is generally 
 simple, and varies very little from first to last. Before I left England 
 this subject had excited my attention, but I did not arrive at any satis- 
 factory conclusion. In some of our Saxon architecture, for example, we 
 have groins, where the ridge of the cross vaulting is considerably arched; 
 but I am not sure that the principal vault forms, on the line of the ridge, 
 a series of arches, as it does in the continental architecture, and so 
 remarkably in the church of St. Germain des Pres. In our Gothic of 
 the thirteenth century I believe the cross vaulting is always arched on 
 the ridge, and the ridge of the principal vault forms also a series of 
 arches nearly flat ; but whether these arches are the same in the cross 
 vaulting and principal vaulting, whether they are pointed, or segments 
 of circles, is what I have not been able to determine. In our last style 
 of Gothic architecture, two very different modes of vaulting prevailed ; 
 one was nearly that formed by a portion of a sphere cut off by four 
 vertical planes, or like a handkerchief exposed to the wind, and held by 
 
80 
 
 VAULTING. 
 
 the four corners. The arch was, however, seldom quite circular, but 
 had something of a point ; the other was formed by courses spreading 
 out beyond each other half round a common centre, so that the vault 
 was formed by a number of funnels touching each other ; or rather, while 
 they touched, to form the principal vault, they cut each other to form 
 the cross vaulting. These funnels were universally concave on the sec- 
 tion, not straight lines forming regular cones ; the intermediate spaces 
 were either left flat, or filled up with pendentives smaller than the funnels, 
 but of the same form. This sort has been called the palm-tree vaulting, 
 because the ribs, gracefully spreading from the tops of the little shafts, 
 present something of the form of a palm-tree, and as this is a much 
 prettier name than funnel-shaped vaults, we will, if you please, adopt it. 
 If you imagine these palm-trees to close against each other in all direc- 
 tions, you will have an arrangement differing less in its appearance from 
 the first than you would readily imagine. If you suppose a square room 
 covered with a true groin, and cut off in the height of the vaulting, 
 the plan at the section would take the form shewn at a. 
 
 in the Gothic of the thirteenth century, it will frequently, I believe, have 
 the shape at b, 
 
 b 
 
 EH 
 
 the angles of the groins being rather kept back ; on the method first 
 described it will be as at c: 
 
 7 
 
 N 
 
 \ 
 
 / 
 
VAULTING. 
 
 81 
 
 in the palm-tree roof thus : 
 
 d 
 
 The transition from b to d does not appear difficult ; but it seems to me, 
 that between these, in England at least, the straight ridge, or one very 
 nearly straight, came into use ; and even one where the ridge descends 
 towards the meeting of the groins. 
 
 M 
 
82 
 
 LETTER VI. 
 
 EDIFICES OF PARIS. 
 
 Paris, June, 1816. 
 
 Methinks I hear you rejoice that my everlasting disquisitions ahout 
 Gothic architecture must at length be nearly finished. Do not, however, 
 be too sanguine, the subject may recur again when I move southward, 
 and I suspect that you will pronounce on my architecture, as I do on the 
 trees by the road sides ; while you have it you will think it very tiresome, 
 and wish it away, but when it is gone, the barrenness and emptiness of 
 the remainder will make you wish the architecture back again. In the 
 observations which I am now about to give you on the modern buildings 
 of Paris, you will at least escape a multitude of doubts about dates. I 
 shall follow the order of Le Grand and Landon's Description de Paris et 
 de ses Edifices, as their little prints may help me to recall my observations ; 
 and let me add, that the criticisms of these authors are usually very judi- 
 cious. In their general observations they praise too highly to correspond 
 with the impression of any taste not educated in France ; in their details, 
 they perhaps, censure too much to be safe guides to a person who has 
 not studied the subject, because these criticisms occur in the descriptions 
 of celebrated buildings, with whose merits, they take it for granted, that 
 their readers are familiar. 
 
 The church of the Assumption is circular, 62 feet in diameter, and I 
 suppose, 100 feet high ; whatever may be its precise elevation, it is cer- 
 tainly much too high. The eight pair of pilasters which surround the 
 lower part, are spaced unequally ; four of the intervals being larger than 
 the other four, in order to give ample room for the altar, the pulpit, and 
 the doorways, and to suggest also something of the form of a cross. In 
 the upper part the disposition is regular ; the effect of this discordance is 
 exceedingly bad. The Val de Grace has a rich appearance externally, the 
 inside is a warehouse, and has not character enough to make much im- 
 pression under such circumstances ; it is the design of Francois Mansard, 
 one of the most celebrated architects that France has produced, but not 
 finished under his direction. The interior of the church of the Sorbonne 
 
INVALIDES. 
 
 83 
 
 is handsome, but they are now fitting it up as a workshop for a sculptor. 
 The architect was Mercier, who built also for Cardinal Richelieu the old 
 part of the Palais Royal. 
 
 The Dome of the Invalides is the masterpiece of Jules Hardouin Man- 
 sard. The church and hospital are from the designs of Liberal Bruant. 
 A striking defect in its present state is, that the gilding of this dome ter- 
 minates too abruptly. It insulates that part from the rest of the building, 
 and from all other surrounding buildings ; there is nothing to carry off 
 the effect. On this consideration it would be better with less of this orna- 
 ment, but it is an experiment which does not leave a doubt of the advan- 
 tage of employing it externally, for the production of beauty and magni- 
 ficence ; and it is equally conclusive against Repton's idea of gilding the 
 dome of St. Paul's, an operation which would not only produce a harsh 
 spot, disagreeing with every thing around it, but would be in itself dis- 
 agreeable. So much has been done at the Invalides, that it is easy to 
 imagine the rest, and to perceive that no breaking down of the boundaries, 
 no accessory edifices, also gilt, could make such a lump of metal pleasing. 
 We learn then, that in thus employing gilding, we must take care not to 
 dispose it in a too continuous and apparently solid mass; to apply it prin- 
 cipally to one part of the building, but not to confine it there, but to let 
 it re-appear in smaller quantities on some other parts ; and, in a city, not 
 to limit it to one edifice, but to let others in some degree partake of it. 
 I say nothing of the expediency of gilding from the short duration of its 
 splendour, which is quite another consideration. The inside of the church 
 at the Invalides is heavy and displeasing. It has two stories of arched 
 aisles in the height of the pilaster, both are low, but the upper is parti- 
 cularly so, and very awkward. The interior of the dome (which quite 
 forms a second church) is rich and magnificent, but there is too much 
 light, or rather perhaps, a great deal of the light is placed too low, and 
 the painting and gilding are not well disposed. Externally, the merit is 
 principally confined to the dome and its drum, which are very beautifully 
 managed. As for the hospital, it has no beauty. A very whimsical idea 
 occurs in the garret windows in the front of the building, which repre- 
 sent suits of armour with holes in the breast ; a more palpable instance 
 of bad taste can hardly be cited, since the artist has thus destroyed the 
 idea of defence, which he appears to have intended to excite. We fre- 
 quently see, in France, the garret windows highly ornamented. This 
 
 M 2 
 
84 
 
 INSTITUTE. 
 
 has sometimes a good effect ; but it is principally where the architec- 
 ture retains something of the Gothic. In the Hotel de Clugny, which 
 exhibits a good deal of that style, they are very richly decorated, and 
 communicate a character of domestic architecture to the edifice, which is 
 at once pleasing and proper ; a peaceful dwelling should not look either 
 like a church or a castle. I do not know whether it would be impossible 
 to make the garret windows of importance in Roman architecture, but I 
 have never seen it done successfully. 
 
 The church of the Quatre Nations, that is to say, the central building 
 of the palace of the Institute, is neither handsome without, nor convenient 
 within. Viewed externally it appears little, and I believe this is, in part, 
 owing to the irregular disposition of the columns. The want of regularity 
 destroys the idea of their being essential parts of the building, and they 
 become mere ornaments, placed according to the caprice of the architect. 
 The openings under the dome are also greatly too large, and this not 
 only has the effect of diminishing the apparent size, but also communi- 
 cates to the whole an appearance of disproportion. The front is orna- 
 mented by four lions, which supply as many threads of water : these 
 are not inserted in the engraving of Le Grand's work. The whole 
 building together is certainly fine, but I think rather too low ; and I have 
 my usual complaint to make of the smallness of the centre, and of the 
 high roofs to the pavilions. On the inside of the central building, the 
 disposition of the galleries in recesses, on three sides of the dome, is not 
 bad for effect when they are filled with people; but the spectators, who find 
 themselves in so many holes in the wall, have reason to be dissatisfied. 
 
 I spent some hours, a few days ago, at the church of St. Genevieve, 
 entering with M. Rondelet, the architect, into all the details of the 
 original construction, and of the settlement which had taken place. It 
 was built by Soufflot, for Louis XV., who allotted to the erection an ad- 
 ditional four sous on every ticket in the lotteries. The annual produce 
 of this was valued at 364,000 livres, nor does it appear that the amount 
 fell short, but in the beginning, the directors anticipated their revenues 
 in the purchase of the ground, and perhaps also in the conduct of the 
 edifice ; and various other expenses, and some considerable buildings, were 
 saddled on the funds, so that in 1 780, after the death of Souflflot, and 
 twenty-five years after the commencement of the building, the works were 
 at a stand for want of money. In 1784 a precise estimate was formed of 
 
ST. GENEVlfcvE. 
 
 85 
 
 the sums yet required, and it was found that, to complete the building 
 according to Soufflot's plan, it would require 5,340,000 livres, and 1,203,000 
 for the square round it, and for the avenues; and the amount of the funds 
 appropriated, after paying the interest of the sums borrowed, was 193,500 
 livres per annum, so that it would have required thirty-four years to ter- 
 minate the work, and ten years and a half more to repay the debts. M. 
 Rondelet, in his Memoir e Historique, enters into an explanation of the 
 proposed mode of raising money for the purpose of carrying on the works, 
 which, I confess, I do not understand. The income seems to jump from 
 193,000 to 278,000, without any cause ; they were to borrow 400,000 
 livres per year, and to repay 100,000 of the old debt, which, to my dull 
 understanding, seems just the same as borrowing 300,000. For the loan 
 they were to pay interest at five per cent., and by this method it was cal- 
 culated that they should raise enough to complete the building and sur- 
 rounding improvements in twelve years. In fourteen years afterwards, 
 supposing the funds to remain untouched, and no farther expenses to 
 intervene, the creditors might be paid, but if by any accident the works 
 should be prolonged a few years more than was contemplated in this esti- 
 mate, the interest of money borrowed would exceed the funds. After all it 
 comes to our approved plan of paying debts with borrowed money. For 
 five years, i.e. 1785-6-7-8-9, the works seem to have gone on with spirit, 
 and near 2,500,000 livres were expended. At this time all the solid 
 work of the edifice was completed, and it appears, that about the end of 
 1789, the first serious alarm was excited, although some cracks had been 
 observed as early as 1776. In 1789, a stone broke in one of the pillars 
 of the dome, and in replacing it, the faulty construction was betrayed. 
 
 It is doubtless very interesting to an architect, to understand the con- 
 struction of those buildings, where any difficulty was to be overcome, 
 in which the efforts of the artist have perfectly succeeded. It is, perhaps, 
 still more instructive to trace the causes of failure in those which have 
 exhibited some considerable defect. The true maxim of an architect is, 
 to spare nothing necessary to make the building perfectly firm and du- 
 rable, but at the same time to admit nothing superfluous ; a building 
 which stands secure might, perhaps, have been equally secure with a por- 
 tion of materials, and, consequently of expense, considerably smaller ; a 
 building which fails, we are sure was not strong enough ; and if it do not 
 begin to fail till after it has received its whole weight, it becomes parti- 
 
86 
 
 ST. GENEVlibVE. 
 
 cularly worthy of attention as an elucidation of the minimum which may 
 be employed, or rather, which must be avoided, for the evil on one side 
 is so incomparably greater than that on the other, that it would be a folly 
 not to err systematically in some degree, by giving more strength than is 
 absolutely necessary. The piers of the dome of St. Genevieve did not so 
 decidedly yield to the pressure as to stop the progress of the building till 
 nearly two years after the dome was completed and the centres removed. 
 It was not till 1795, when, in order to adapt the edifice to its republican 
 destination, some masses of hard stone, intended to receive the ornaments, 
 were cut away, that any considerable defects became sensible. The slight 
 motion given by the repeated jarring of this operation was sufficient to 
 destroy the equilibrium of the forces. 
 
 The soil on which this church was built had been found on an examina- 
 tion, previous to laying the foundations; to be full of pits, some as much as 
 eighty feet in depth, which had been dug to procure an earth for a sort of 
 coarse pottery, a circumstance which does not give us a favourable idea of 
 any part of the foundation. These pits were very carefully filled up, and 
 the foundations, and erection of the vaults, carried on so as to give a 
 perfectly firm basis for the superstructure. This operation has completely 
 succeeded, and does not exhibit the slightest trace of failure or settle- 
 ment. These works were begun in 1755 : in 1764, Louis XV. placed the 
 first stone of one of the pillars of the dome, an honour which is supposed 
 to have excited some jealousy against the architect. Great clamour was 
 raised against the price paid for cutting the stones, and the cautious and 
 scientific method of proceeding at first adopted, was abandoned exactly at 
 the point when care and nicety were most necessary. The piers, conse- 
 quently, instead of being built of stones perfectly squared, with true beds, 
 were composed of such as presented merely an even face, whilst frequently 
 the internal mass was very defective. 
 
 Soufflot himself seems to have directed the beds of the stones to have 
 been wrought smooth for a depth of four or five inches from the external 
 face, and the remainder to have been roughly sunk three or four lines, in 
 order to receive the mortar ; a method bad in itself, as it evidently throws 
 the principal weight to the face of the pier, i. e. to the weakest part, in- 
 stead of spreading it equally over the whole surface, or with rather a ten- 
 dency to the centre. Even these directions had not been attended to ; but 
 the builder, content to make the outside of his work fair, had used stones 
 
ST. GENEVlilVE. 
 
 87 
 
 in many instances which were wedge-shaped ; and joints which only 
 presented a thickness of one or two lines externally, were two inches, 
 or two inches and a half, wide on the inside ; the filling in stones by no 
 means fitted their places, and the interstices thus left, were so little filled 
 with mortar, that in one place, on examination, the work admitted 
 several pailfuls of grout. In order to obviate any immediate ill effect 
 from the unequal beds of the stone, calks, or little bits, generally, as it 
 appears, of wood, were inserted, in order to support each block to its 
 level. Above the piers of the dome the work was better executed, both 
 in principle and practice, and the internal surfaces were merely picked 
 to hold the mortar, without any sinking, under the direction of M. 
 Rondelet ; yet, even in this part, the want of large stones has made it 
 necessary to introduce a prodigious quantity of iron-work to support 
 arches, where the construction required a single stone. 
 
 The first appearance of weakness, as I have already observed, was in 
 1776, when on removing the centres of the great arches some few pieces 
 flanchedoff, but they were of little consequence. In 1779, while they 
 were continuing the drum of the dome, new appearances of the same sort 
 occurred, and Soufflot employed workmen to sawkerf* the joints, in order 
 that the weight might bear more upon the solid mass of the pier ; and du- 
 ring this operation the cdlles were taken out wherever they came within 
 reach. After the death of Soufflot, which happened in 1780, an exami- 
 nation of the cracks and flanchings was undertaken ; but it was not till 
 1788 that they began to replace the broken stones. Nevertheless, in 
 1797, when Rondelet first published his work (if I understand him right), 
 there were in one of these pillars three hundred and sixty-seven cracks, of 
 which one hundred and thirty-eight formed lezards; two hundred and 
 eighty-three flanchings ; sixty-four points where the stone had been 
 crushed by the incumbent weight ; fifty-four separations of the upright 
 joints ; three hundred and forty-four pieces renewed, thirty-seven of 
 which had been renewed a second time. 
 
 It is marvellous that under such circumstances they should have conti- 
 nued the work, since it was evident, from the pieces twice supplied, that 
 the progress of the settlement was going on sufficiently to make itself sen- 
 sible, even while the centering of the dome remained ; yet it does not 
 
 * To Sawkerf is to wear away the stone at the joints by the introduction of a saw ; the 
 weight above, thus deprived of its support on the external face of the work, sinks down on to 
 the internal mass of the wall or pier. 
 
88 
 
 ST. GEKEVI^IVE. 
 
 appear, as I have already said, that any immediate mischief followed the 
 striking of those centres, and it was not till 1796 that the ultimate stability 
 of the edifice was considered doubtful. At that time a commission of ar- 
 chitects was appointed to examine the state of the building, and report on 
 the best means of proceeding. These gentlemen examined the piers, and 
 completely ascertained the defective mode of workmanship which I have 
 above explained ; and they found that the piers and columns under the 
 dome, had settled irregularly in consequence of it. One pier had sunk five 
 inches and two lines, French measure, the whole of which must have 
 taken place in the height of the columns (thirty-seven feet eight inches), 
 as every thing above and below was firm. Such defects in the workman- 
 ship seemed sufficient to account for the failure of the construction ; but 
 it was necessary to know, whether if perfect, the piers would have had 
 sufficient solidity, and whether there was any defect necessary to be at- 
 tended to in the disposition of the weight above. Soufflot made some 
 experiments to ascertain the pressure which the stone ' du fond de Bag- 
 neux' used in these pillars, would support ; but it appeared probable that 
 the instrument he used was defective. Rondelet therefore repeated the 
 experiments, both with Soufflot's machine, and with one of his own con- 
 trivance. According to the first, each pier would support a weight of 
 seventy million three hundred and sixty-two thousand, seven hundred and 
 twenty pounds, supposing it to be a single block of stone ; according to 
 the last, of twenty-seven millions, three hundred and twenty-nine thousand 
 two hundred and twenty-two ; a tremendous difference, and yet the 
 estimate is still probably too high, as even in Rondelet's machine, some 
 power is lost by friction. As however it is probable, that from the 
 bad construction of the piers, the weight was not supported by more 
 than a fourth part of the superficies ; their strength, calculated on Ron- 
 delet's machine, would not exceed six million eight hundred and thirty- 
 two thousand, three hundred and five pounds, while the weight of a 
 quarter of the dome was ascertained to be seven millions, four hundred 
 and forty-nine thousand, nine hundred and eighty. We must, however, 
 be careful how we make use of these combinations of experiment and 
 calculation, since it would appear from them that the piers of the bridge 
 of Neuilly, to support arches of 120 feet span, instead of 13 feet thick, 
 as they actually are, need only have been about four inches, and the 
 walls of a house five stories high, require only three lines and a half 
 in thickness at the bottom. As for the distribution of weight the com- 
 
ST. GENEVlfeVE. 
 
 89 
 
 missioners condemned the method adopted, owing to a change in the 
 plan during the progress of the work, of making the drum of the dome 
 pass a little on the outside of tlie line of the uprights ; but they contented 
 themselves with recommending the establishment of centering to relieve 
 the weight, while the broken stones were removed, and replaced with such 
 an incrustation carefully worked, as would be sufficient to sustain the 
 whole building. 
 
 All the principal architects before Soufflot have given their domes a 
 strong tendency towards the centre, but it does not appear to me that 
 this is necessary, nor even in most cases expedient; nor was that of 
 St. Genevieve faulty from the adoption of a different maxim, any farther 
 than as it tended to throw a larger portion of the weight on the three- 
 quarter columns at the acute angles of the piers. 
 
 The centres for this method of restoration were already ordered, when, 
 at the solicitation of the builder, another examination by the inspectors of 
 the Bridges and Ways was ordered by the minister. In France, the ar- 
 chitects and engineers never agree ; and therefore, in order to have an 
 opinion of their own, these inspectors, although they could not help find- 
 ing the same causes of failure, yet voted the centering proposed by the 
 architects unnecessary ; stating that the defective construction of the piers, 
 and the consequent danger of the building, had been much exaggerated, 
 and that the incrustation recommended was insufficient, and injurious to 
 the beauty of the architecture ; and instead of this, they advised the inser- 
 tion of angular flying buttresses. This would have added to the load, 
 without increasing the strength of the edifice, since the direct pressure, and 
 not any lateral thrust, was the source of the evil. 
 
 The architects and engineers continued debating while the evil was in- 
 creasing. Two mathematicians were appointed to examine the reasons 
 on both sides, but they declined pronouncing which was right, and it was 
 agreed that the architects, the inspectors, and mathematicians, should 
 each report separately to the minister of the interior. Other commission- 
 ers were appointed in 1798, who were frightened at the progress of set- 
 tlement which had taken place in the two years preceding, and requested 
 the immediate erection of the centres proposed by the architects ; but un- 
 fortunately they desired that M. Rondelet, M. Gauthier, inspector gene- 
 ral of Ponts et Cliaussees, and M. Patt6, who had published in an early 
 stage of the work, some observations on the insufficiency of the piers, 
 
 N 
 
90 
 
 ST. GENEVIEVE. 
 
 should be joined with them. The indulgence of this request produced 
 new difficulties and new debates. At last, in 1799, a commission of the 
 members of the Institute recommended the completion of the erection of 
 the centres ; and this appears to have been executed ; but nothing farther 
 was done till 1806, when it was decided to restore the building to its ori- 
 ginal destination as a church. The pillars were rebuilt under the direction 
 of M. Rondelet, on the principle at first recommended by the architects. 
 The whole now seems perfectly firm, and the appearance of the building, if 
 you will allow a person to judge who never saw it in its original state, not 
 at all injured. It is certainly a beautiful edifice, the general proportions 
 are good, and there is much grace and elegance in the outline ; but there 
 are also many defects. To begin, as usual, with the outside. The columns 
 of the portico are too wide apart, there ought to have been eight instead of 
 six in the front row. The two columns forming a projection on each side 
 beyond the line of the portico, are great blemishes ; very injurious to the 
 general effect, and the more so, because they are palpably placed there for 
 no other purpose than to enhance it ; and the four internal columns on 
 each side, are most awkwardly doubled against the external columns and 
 the pilasters. If instead of these eighteen columns, there were sixteen, 
 disposed like those of the Pantheon at Rome, this part would have been 
 incomparably finer. The body of the building is too plain for the por- 
 tico ; the eye requires either pilasters, or something which might produce 
 a similar effect, to be continued all round, in order to preserve the same 
 character throughout the edifice, or at least some returns at the north and 
 south entrances, of the magnificence of the western front. It is as neces- 
 sary in architecture as in painting, to avoid every thing which makes an 
 unconnected spot in the composition. The breaks which exist as apolo- 
 gies for the want of pilasters, have a foolish and unmeaning effect ; and 
 the uninterrupted continuance of an ornament of the height of the capi- 
 tal, is heavy and displeasing. Above this, the pedestal, if I may so call it, 
 of the dome, by its plainness and simplicity, forms a relief to the more or- 
 namented portions of the building, and affords a noble base for the upper 
 part. The columns of the drum are well proportioned and well arranged. 
 The attic above them is perhaps rather too high, and the flat ribs of the 
 dome itself are objectionable, especially, distinguished as they now are, by 
 being painted yellow on a gray ground. This dome is triple, and the 
 outer is, in parts of its surface, only eight inches thick. It is not a portion 
 
ST, GENEVlivE. 
 
 91 
 
 of a sphere, but like those of most modern churches, would form a point, 
 if the summit were not cut off to receive the lantern. This is right, where 
 a dome is elevated, and surmounted by another form of edifice. In a 
 building where a dome and its direct support constitute the whole of the 
 apparent mass, or even where the dome forms the centre of a building, not 
 very high in proportion to its extent, the portion of a sphere is better; but 
 where the effect of height is intended, the somewhat pointed form of the 
 dome maintains the general tendency to a pyramidal form. This is hardly 
 accomplished at St. Genevieve, principally, however, I believe, from the 
 injudicious truncated form of the lantern, which was not a part of the 
 original design, but an addition of the present architect, and intended 
 to support a colossal statue of Fame. It has never been finished ; and 
 perhaps when surmounted either with such a statue, or with a ball and 
 cross, it will have a better appearance, because it will be more in harmony 
 with the general form of the edifice. In the interior there is less to cen- 
 sure, and I never enter it without fresh pleasure. In its light and elegant 
 appearance, it resembles the church of St. Stephen, Walbrook, more than 
 any other edifice in England ; and like that perhaps, is rather deficient in 
 the solemnity which ought to accompany a religious edifice. There 
 is no heaviness in any part, but in some respects rather the contrary 
 appearance of insufficiency. The new piers are no stronger than seems 
 necessary to support the work above ; yet I must confess, that the dis- 
 position of the columns, forming the nave into squares, each of which 
 is covered with a shallow dome, though giving an air of lightness, pro- 
 duces a certain degree of confusion, and is vastly inferior in majesty and 
 sublimity, to a nave with a continued vault leading to one central dome. It 
 is perhaps this circumstance, more than any other, which communicates 
 an air of gaiety, one might almost say, of levity, to the interior. The four 
 square pillars over the columns, which advance at the augles to support 
 the smaller domes, are preposterously little. There are other defects in 
 the details of the building, which I shall not point out to you ; but in 
 spite of them all, one cannot refuse it the rank of one of the most beauti- 
 ful edifices in Europe. A stranger is usually conducted to the vaults 
 below, whose long, low, gloomy arcades, produce a solemn impression ; 
 especially when connected with the idea of their destination to receive the 
 illustrious dead. The individual objects they contain have no other merit. 
 They consist of paltry wooden models of proposed monuments to Voltaire 
 
 N 2 
 
92 
 
 ST. SULPICE. 
 
 and Rousseau, and plain stone sarcophagi of some of the imperial ge- 
 nerals and nobles. 
 
 The church of St. Roch was built by Mercier, for Louis the Fourteenth. 
 It is pleasant to follow the boasted architects of that age, and to judge 
 of their merits by comparing them with one another, and with their 
 successors. That school is entirely gone by in Paris, and a very dif- 
 ferent one, more closely founded on the Roman architecture, has suc- 
 ceeded. Though sufficiently varied, they are however both French ; as 
 far as the buildings which have been erected enable us to judge. The 
 design may show the taste and talent of the architect, but the adoption 
 and execution are more connected with the taste of the age and country. 
 In both schools there is much knowledge, and much imagination and in- 
 genuity ; in both there is a deficiency in purity and nobleness of taste ; 
 yet the present is certainly much preferable to the old. No modern ar- 
 chitect would cut up his building so unmeaningly as is done in the front 
 of St. Roch ; nor would it be admired if he did. This is the design of J. 
 R. Cotte in 1736, and has been much praised in its time — a short one for 
 the durable productions of architecture. There are now, I think, several 
 French architects who would produce a better design for the interior ; for 
 notwithstanding the effort to give effect by the succession of four edifices 
 one within another, presented to the view at a single glance ; and by the 
 gilding and painting with which it is adorned, it is not impressive. It 
 is, however, rich and showy, and deserves observation, independently of 
 the sculpture with which it is ornamented, some of which is very good. 
 In the extreme niche is a crucifixion in marble, illuminated by a concealed 
 light from above, with very good effect ; by the side of this is a calvary, 
 where a similar management is attempted, but with less success, princi- 
 pally because there are several lights instead of one. 
 
 There is a great display of architecture both inside and outside of St. 
 Sulpice, but neither the one nor the other is pleasing. The latter (the 
 front at least) is by Servandoni, and is very much admired ; but I think the 
 defects are not merely in details, but in the choice of form, and the dis- 
 position of the principal parts. The use here made of two orders is not 
 good, and the upper, with its piers and arches, and half columns resting 
 on the insulated columns below, is quite too heavy. The lower part of 
 the towers ought to have presented a considerable extent of plain sur- 
 face, which would have seemed a proper basement to the superior part. 
 
TUILLERIES. 
 
 93 
 
 and contrasted with the shadows of the portico, and with the multiplica- 
 tion of surface resulting from the colonnade in the centre ; instead of 
 which, in the present arrangement, the eye confounds it with the portico, 
 and disconnects it with the towers. At the extremity of the church, be- 
 hind the choir, is a little recess, with a statue of the virgin, illuminated 
 by means of a concealed window, which is admirably managed. I walked 
 through the church without being aware of what I had to expect, and thus 
 coming upon it by surprise, the effect was enchanting. There is some- 
 thing of a purplish hue, either in the light or the material, which is a de- 
 fect. The Ladies chapel, in which it is placed, is darkly rich in painting 
 and gilding, and has but little light, most of which is by concealed open- 
 ings just above the cornice, and directed towards the body of the church ; 
 and its general gloom very much enhances the effect of the illuminated 
 ■figure. On looking externally at the recess or niche which contains 
 the statue, it appears to have two small, oval windows, perhaps 12 inches 
 by 9, precisely in the angle where the circular part unites with the body 
 of the building. Internally, the light appears to proceed from one side, 
 and from the top ; perhaps the two windows were found too much, and 
 one of them has been consequently stopt up. 
 
 St. Philippe en Roule is a handsome church, viewed on the outside, but 
 I think looks better in an engraving than in the reality. The details are 
 bad, and indicate great want of taste in the architect. In the interior 
 likewise, the general design is good, and the details and ornaments de- 
 fective ; but the great fault of this church is, that it produces no sort of 
 impression. I have not been able to satisfy myself to what this extreme 
 tameness is owing ; perhaps a very poor wooden ceiling may have some 
 influence. 
 
 The extent of the Champs Elysees, and the Jardin des Tuilleries, the 
 number of statues with which they are ornamented, and the gay crowd 
 which peoples them, form a very striking scene, and prepare one for the 
 lengthened front of the palace, to which they seem to belong ; excepting 
 its extent, however, this palace has no merit. Whether we consider the 
 whole mass, or the parts of which it is composed ; their proportions taken 
 separately, or their proportions as component parts of one edifice ; there 
 is nothing to excite admiration ; and even were the lower parts better, as 
 long as the abominable high separate roofs remain, it is impossible that 
 the whole should please. The central part, i. e. the middle pavilion. 
 
94 
 
 TUILLERIES. 
 
 the ' Corps de Logis,' on each hand, and the two adjoining pavilions, were 
 built by Catherine of Medici, from designs of Philippe de Lorme and 
 Jean Bullant. Happy if it had never been extended any farther ; for 
 this part/though not in a pure taste, possesses some beauty, and the advanc- 
 ing terrace, supported on arches, has a pleasing appearance. Then came 
 Ducerceau, who without any feeHng for the general effect, added the two 
 extreme divisions on each side, equally discordant between themselves 
 and with what had been done before. Attempts were made under Louis 
 XIV. to harmonize the whole, but the parts were too heterogeneous ; and 
 with its insignificant centre, the smallest division of the whole, and its 
 overwhelming roof, this may probably boast of being the most con- 
 spicuously ugly piece of architecture in Europe. Passing through the 
 archway, into the Place de Carousel, the size of the square, considered as 
 the court of a single building, excites astonishment. The opening at pre- 
 sent displayed must be equal to Lincoln's Inn Fields ; and when all the 
 old buildings, which are now in the way, shall have been cleared off, there 
 will be more than double that space. Still, however, the architecture is 
 very bad, and the new part is made to correspond with all the breaks and 
 caprices of the opposite side. This appears to me injudicious, as a few 
 easy alterations in the old work would simplify and beautify it amazingly, 
 and the internal arrangement would also have been benefitted. This old 
 side forming a gallery of communication between the two palaces, was 
 begun by Henry IV., under the direction of Etienne Duperon, continued 
 by Louis XII L and finished by Louis XIV. The new side was erected 
 by Napoleon. After all this, the eye is hardly prepared for the vast length 
 of the building displayed upon the quay. Indeed, whether from the gardens, 
 the Place de Carousel, or the quay, the prevailing impression given by the 
 palace of the Tuilleries is, that it is very large, and very ugly ; but the im- 
 mense extent always gives an idea of magnificence, and we must acknow- 
 ledge it worthy of royalty. As compared with the public buildings in 
 England, those of France have generally this advantage, that there seems 
 to have been no want of power; and this alone gives a degree of pleasure. 
 Their taste may not be good, but they seem to do all that it requires ; 
 whereas, in the buildings of London, it seems as if more would have been 
 done, and more space occupied, if the means had been accessible. In 
 France, on the contrary, inside and outside, the idea of ample space is al- 
 ways communicated. The inside of the Tuilleries I have postponed, in 
 
LOUVRE. 
 
 95 
 
 hopes that the king will go to Fontainebleau, which it is said he will do 
 shortly. 
 
 We now come to the Louvre, which was begun by Francis I. ; and one 
 portion of it was completed under Henry II. Francis ordered designs 
 from Serlio ; who had, it is said, the modesty and good sense to prefer 
 those of Pierre Lescot, abbot of Clugny, to his own, and magnanimity to 
 say so. Every body knows the story of Bernini, who, on seeing the de- 
 signs of Claude Perrault for the eastern front, told Louis XIV., that with 
 such an architect in Paris, it was quite useless to send for one from 
 Italy. Le Grand treats this as a fable, probably originating in what 
 really took place between Serlio and Pierre Lescot. I do not like these 
 transfers of generous deeds ; they always lessen the faith with which one 
 reposes upon their truth. Mercier, under Louis XIII., continued the de- 
 signs of Lescot ; enlarging however the plan, and erecting the central pa- 
 vilion in the east side with the caryatides ; the space between that and 
 the angle having been originally intended to form the entire court. After 
 building the celebrated gallery, Perrault erected a third order round part 
 of the court, which was not completed till under Napoleon. The archi- 
 tecture of this building is very much superior to that of the Tuilleries, 
 and I willingly add my suffrage to that of every body else, as to the 
 beauty of its eastern front. In what does this beauty consist, what are 
 its defects, atid how might they on another occasion be avoided ? These 
 are questions very important to an architect, and such as he ought to ap- 
 ply to every fine building which he sees. 
 
 I think its beauty may be attributed to three sources. The simplicity 
 of the outline, and general distribution; the excellence of the propor- 
 tions ; and the depth of the gallery, which gives a fine and impressive 
 mass of shade. The chief defects are the great arched windows in the 
 side pavilions, and the arch over the central doorway, cutting the base- 
 ment entirely in two. The basement windows are rather too high, and 
 they would probably be better if square-headed. The side doorways of 
 the central pavilion are on the contrary rather too low. There is a cer- 
 tain want of simplicity, arising chiefly from the above-mentioned defects, 
 but partly also from the division of the edifice into five parts, of which 
 the centre wants consequence ; and from the unequal spacing of the 
 doubled columns. Compared with other edifices of that period, and even 
 with those of the present day, the design is beautifully simple ; but if 
 
96 
 
 LOUVRE. 
 
 brought to the standard of the beau ideal, we find something to desire in 
 that respect. After all the admiration so constantly given to the simple 
 architecture of the Greeks, and the praise so uniformly bestowed on 
 those modern buildings which offer the same character of simplicity, it 
 seems astonishing at first view, that it should be so difficult to persuade 
 architects to be simple. The proportions, and even the ornaments of the 
 basement, the columns, the entablature, and the balustrade, are just what 
 one would wish. They are all beautiful, all suited to one another, to the 
 general disposition, and to one essential peculiarity, which consists in the 
 coupled columns of the galleries. I have heard it sometimes disputed 
 whether single columns would not have been preferable. If the question 
 be, whether a more beautiful building might not be formed by columns 
 placed singly, than by columns placed in pairs, the discussion is reason- 
 able, and perhaps the general and true answer would be in the affirma- 
 tive ; but it would no longer have been the same design. No one could 
 propose to put a single column in the place of each pair : the straggling 
 weakness of such an arrangement would be insufferable. They must be 
 placed nearer together, and this would bring the windows nearer together. 
 The lower windows would then appear crowded : other arrangements 
 must be made to obviate this defect, one thing depending on another, till 
 step by step the whole composition is changed. Perhaps it would have 
 been better if the architect had omitted altogether the central pavilion, 
 and continued the gallery in an unbroken line ; all the piers and pairs of 
 columns being equally spaced, and the three lower middle openings made 
 a little larger than the rest, and brought down to the ground as doors. 
 The side pavilions would have remained unaltered, except that the middle 
 window of each on the principal floor would be of the same size and 
 form as the others. This arrangement would not admit any carriage way^ 
 but the design is not calculated for a carriage way, and it would look 
 better without one. In praising the ornaments, I ought to have excepted 
 the oval tablets over the windows, which are not pleasing. 
 
 The front of the Louvre towards the Seine, is also a noble piece of 
 architecture, very much in the style of the eastern fac^ade, but it not only 
 wants the relief produced by the deep gallery, but the single arrange- 
 ment of the columns has obliged the architect to bring the windows of the 
 basement too near together, and it consequently wants solidity and re- 
 pose : here we see something of what modifications would be necessary to 
 
LOUVRE. 
 
 97 
 
 adapt single columns to this design, and their effect. Another example of 
 this sort is at the Garde Meuble, in the Place Louis XV., and the build- 
 ing is very beautiful ; yet the architect has not altogether succeeded, and 
 this front is decidedly inferior to that of the Louvre. The piers of the 
 basement are too slender, and the gallery wants the fine depth which 
 gives so much effect to the celebrated work of Perrault. Added to this, 
 the sham porticos of the side pavilions, with their unmeaning pediments, 
 seem to be squeezed in between the two bits of wall which bound them. 
 In the inside of the court of the Louvre we have quite another style of 
 architecture, but this also is very fine. Though composed of a great num- 
 ber of little parts, yet with some exceptions the arrangement is clear and 
 obvious, and the effect rich and handsome. Of the inside of this vast 
 collection of buildings, I have seen only the rooms of sculpture, and the 
 great gallery. The staircase to the latter is magnificent, but rather 
 narrow for its object, its accompaniments, and for the scale of the build- 
 ing ; and as for the rest, these rooms offer more to be avoided than 
 imitated. In my dreams for buildings, which have been sufficiently nu- 
 merous, I have sometimes endeavoured to obtain a gallery of enormous 
 length, imagining to produce thereby a magnificent eflfect; but I am now 
 completely cured of any such attempt ; the result is neither grand nor 
 beautiful, and though the multiplied faults of these apartments might be 
 avoided, yet I am convinced that it is an arrangement which no art could 
 render agreeable. These galleries are not at present open to the public, 
 but I obtained an order of admission from M. du Fourny. The lower 
 rooms are vaulted, with abundance of painting and gilding on most of te 
 ceilings,* but the effect is heavy ; they are not high enough for such a 
 disposition of their parts. The hall of the Apollo is a vault of no great 
 elevation, with five smaller arches cutting into the principal one on each 
 side, for as many windows and niches. The Apollo did occupy a niche at 
 the end, with a column of granite on each side of it. The light falls rather 
 too horizontally upon those statues which receive it the best, but those 
 on the same side with the windows receive it from below, it being re- 
 flected from the pavement ; at least this was very strongly the case when 
 I was there, the sun shining brightly into the room. 
 
 The Salle du Laocoon has a somewhat similar arrangement, with three 
 windows ; the ceiling is rich with painting and gilding, and this is good; 
 
 * They have since been considerably altered. 
 O 
 
98 
 
 LOUVRE. 
 
 but the windows, instead of being cut up into the vaulting, are kept below 
 a continued cornice, which makes the want of height more sensible, and 
 renders the direction of the light still more unsuitable to the exhibition of 
 the statues. 
 
 The-Salle des Hommes illustres has seven windoAvs. It is divided into 
 three parts by eight columns of gray granite disposed in pairs, the middle 
 division being the smallest. This disposition is bad. The middle divi- 
 sion ought to have been the largest, and even then it would not deserve 
 much praise ; the ceiling of the end is coved, that of the middle groined ; 
 the walls are painted to imitate the granite columns. This would have 
 been incomparably better done by our best London workmen ; and as we 
 may reasonably suppose that in such a situation, the best painters Paris 
 could furnish were employed, it is fair to conclude that we exceed them 
 in this respect. The room which contains the Diana has a waggon- 
 headed ceiling, panelled and painted white, with gilt mouldings. 
 
 The handsomest room by far is the Salle des Muses, which has never 
 been finished, but which contains nevertheless some very fine statues. 
 The walls are covered with beautiful marbles, for the most part of a dark 
 colour, which suits the sculpture exceedingly well ; and they are finished 
 with a very handsome cornice ; but the vault occupies too large a propor- 
 tion of the height, and is besides, all white, which makes it obtrusive. 
 
 The two middle parts of the great gallery of pictures are now occupied 
 by tapestry ; the other parts are still crowded with too many jjictures, and 
 a large portion are very fine pictures. The defect of height is here still 
 more sensible than below. To look well, it should at least be half as 
 high again, and even that would be scanty. The light is introduced dif- 
 ferently in different parts. Sometimes there are skylights on both sides, 
 and sometimes windows on one side or the other, or on both. The light 
 is in most parts introduced rather too low, but if they were all lighted 
 from the skylights there would be little cause to complain; and why they 
 are not, it would be difficult to explain, for the external distribution of 
 the openings would, I believe, give two ranges of windows, or windows 
 and skylights, on both sides, all along. The ceiling is waggon-headed, 
 the ornament rather frippery, and the divisions, which seem intended 
 to indicate a suite of apartments, are not good in themselves, and have 
 a very insignificant appearance. They are formed by arches springing 
 from coupled columns ; and here again is a paltry little central divi- 
 sion : this however is not of much consequence, as the extravagant 
 
LUXEMBOURG. 
 
 99 
 
 length does not permit one to catch the disposition at any single point of 
 view. 
 
 The Palais de Justice is not a handsome building ; the architecture of 
 the wings is disproportionately small; they are not well connected with the 
 centre ; and the openings are everywhere too large. There are the materials 
 of good architecture, but not well proportioned, nor well put together. It 
 is very possible to spend a great deal of money to make a building beauti- 
 ful, and utterly to fail, without any gross fault being committed ; a truth of 
 which many edifices both in France and our own country bear witness, and 
 this among the rest. The inside is not better than the out, and the great 
 hall, formed by a double vault supported on piers running down the 
 middle, does no honour to the architect. 
 
 The Palace of the Luxembourg has a sort of ambiguous merit which it 
 is difficult to understand. There is certainly something good in it, but I 
 cannot undertake to define what that something is. Without dwelling 
 on the rusticated columns and pilasters, repeated on each story, and the 
 awkward manner in which the windows are inserted in the lower arches, 
 we may observe, that the sort of half correspondence between the open 
 arches of the gallery in the Rue Tournon, and the windowed arches of 
 the elevated pavilions, is disagreeable; and that the central building is too 
 trifling for the extent of the edifice. It would form a pleasing centre to 
 the gallery only, supposing the pavilions taken entirely away. Or if the 
 pavilions remain (with the loss, however, of the roof), an unbroken line 
 of gallery would be better than one divided by this central elevation. On 
 entering, the galleries to the right and left have a fine effect, which, how- 
 ever, is rather lost when we mount the little staircase to the galleries of 
 painting : the rooms in which the paintings are exposed are not hand- 
 some. One of the finest of the internal parts of this building is probably 
 the great staircase to the Chambre des Pairs. The paintings of Rubens 
 you have heard enough of; they are rich and splendid, and that is all ; the 
 subjects are foolish, and the figures, for the most part, disgusting. Those 
 of Vernet are good views, but one goes away and forgets them. There 
 are some other works of the French school, of which those of Le Sueur 
 and of Philippe de Champagne are the best.* 
 
 The French admire the garden ; I think it paltry, and the more so 
 
 * These paintings have been since removed to the Louvre, and the rooms are now filled 
 with modern productions. 
 
 o 2 
 
100 
 
 PALAIS DU CORPS LEGISLATIF. 
 
 from its unmeaning length, extended to the observatory. Time, however, 
 will improve it, by changing into trees the little sticks which now border 
 the walks. 
 
 The court of the Palais Bourbon, or of the Corps Legislatif, does not at 
 all satisfy my eye. The portico, and indeed, all the ornamental architec- 
 ture, is too small in proportion to the mass which backs it. The pilasters 
 are straggling, and this gives an appearance of littleness to the whole. On 
 the opposite front, the grand portico wants depth ; it seems a mere screen ; 
 and the middle door at least, ought to have had twice its present dimensions. 
 The details of the mouldings and ornaments are but indifferent. I have 
 heard it observed that the flight of steps is too high, and diminishes the ap- 
 parent size of the columns ; this may be true, but on the other hand, when 
 a portico is extended to twelve columns, the composition will want height, 
 and a lofty basement becomes necessary. Perhaps the architect would 
 have done better to have used only ten columns in the same extent, and 
 making them larger, brought them down to the first flight of steps. 
 When an artist, instead of inventing new combinations, merely adopts 
 the form of an ancient Corinthian temple, one has a right to expect that 
 his attention should be peculiarly directed to just proportion, and beautiful 
 ornament ; but at the same time, this simple arrangement is so elegant in 
 itself, and so rarely exhibited, that we must feel obliged to the artist who 
 designed it, for having sacrificed the praise of ingenious novelty, to give 
 so noble an example of the ancient form. If the opposite Temple of 
 Glory, or Church of the Madelaine, should ever be completed, the assem- 
 blage of fine architecture presented to the eye from the Place Louis XV. 
 could hardly be matched in the world. 
 
 One of the most boasted modern buildings in Paris is the Ecole de 
 Medecine. I do not much admire it ; the front screen is overloaded by 
 the high story resting on the columns ; and within the court the range of 
 smaller columns, running behind those of the portico, has a disagreeable 
 effect. There is a complete entablature to the smaller order, but only 
 the cornice of the portico is continued round the building, without archi- 
 trave or frieze : as the entablature is always supposed to indicate the 
 principal construction of the roof, this arrangement is preposterous. 
 Sometimes, where the upper story is a mere attic, it may be supposed to 
 be in fact in the roof, and the entablature will of course be below it. 
 Palladio, and many Italian architects, consider the entablature as indica- 
 
ABATTOIRS. 
 
 101 
 
 ting floors, as well as the roof, but no theory will admit its introduction 
 in the former case and its omission in the latter. 
 
 The Fountain in front is one of the erections of Napoleon, and cer- 
 tainly does no honour to his taste, or that of his architect: a semicircular 
 recess for a shower of rain, with some columns in front, is its best ap- 
 pearance; but usually we see no indication of water, except the green 
 vegetation it produces ; and the adjuncts are as poor as the principal 
 object. 
 
 The Palais Royal I have already mentioned. The Hotel de Ville has 
 a certain richness of appearance, although it is not in a style of architec- 
 ture capable of great merit, and even not one of the best examples of the 
 sort. It is, however, as good as our Guildhall. 
 
 The Halle aux Bles is justly cited as one of the finest productions of 
 modern art ; not for its beauty, to which it has no claim, but for the 
 simple and scientific construction of its noble iron roof ; each rib is com- 
 posed of two bars to form its depth, and a third is added towards the 
 springing. These bars are united by cross bars, radiating from the centre 
 of the circle, and this constitutes the whole of the supporting work ; a 
 net of square iron framing rests upon these ribs, and supports the plates 
 of the roof; the diameter of this dome is 142 feet. 
 
 Napoleon ordered the erection of several Abattoirs, {i. e. places for 
 slaughtering cattle, and for the wholesale meat market,) in the outskirts 
 of the city, but within the barrihres ; these are not yet finished ; they are 
 very spacious and well disposed, but the one which I visited seemed to 
 be placed too high to admit of a plentiful supply of water. I did not 
 perceive any thing particularly good in the construction, but in the 
 covering there were some experiments which deserve notice. They have 
 used in some parts the Italian semicylindrical tiles, and seem very well 
 satisfied with them, as forming a very light and perfectly water-tight 
 roofing. It is not, however, quite correct to call them semicylindrical, as 
 they are, in fact, the halves of frustra of hollow cones, the lower series 
 being laid with the concave side upwards, and the upper with the con- 
 cave side downwards, and covering the joints of the lower series. We 
 seem in our pantiles to have aimed at uniting two of these tiles into a 
 serpentine shape, and employing only one series. The chief object of 
 this change arises from the want of a convenient method of fixing the 
 . upper tiles. In the Abattoirs these are not fixed, except by the cement, 
 
102 
 
 FOUNTAINS. 
 
 and no inconvenience has resulted in the two years whicli have elapsed 
 since they were completed. In some cases the rafters are cut into trian- 
 gular prisms, with the flat side downwards, and the lower tile lies very 
 snugly in the intervals ; but for this arrangement, either the tiles must be 
 very large, or the rafters placed very close together. In others the lower 
 tiles were made in the shape of trays, but it was found that the water 
 did not run off as well from the flat surface as from the hollow, and con- 
 sequently, that a sharper pitch was needful. 
 
 Paris is adorned with a number of fountains, many of M^hich, it is true, 
 are poor and paltry, but others are very handsome, and contribute much 
 to the ornament of the city. Among these the ' Fontaine des Innocens' 
 is the most admired, and is certainly one of the most beautiful little 
 things in Paris. It was originally placed at the angle of a street ; now it 
 is quite insulated, and I conceive, looks better in its new situation than 
 it could have done in the old one. A square building, perforated each 
 way by an arch standing on a basement, and crowned with a dome, forms 
 the whole composition, and though not without faults, it is truly a valuable 
 production ; the architect was Lescot, the author of part of the Louvre. 
 
 The Fontaine de Grenelle is also a handsome structure, although, if 
 considered as a fountain, the supply of water bears no sort of proportion 
 to the size of the edifice, and the centre is as usual, too small : both these 
 fountains are ornamented with sculpture, which is both well disposed, and 
 well executed for architectural effect. 
 
 The Chateau d'Eau, on the Boulevards, does more honour to the 
 reign of Napoleon than the Fountain of the Ecole de Medecine. If 
 spouting lions are not very natural, they have, at least, the plea of long 
 use, and have been introduced into some very fine productions. They 
 perhaps give a pleasing variety of outline, which otherwise, for a small 
 edifice intended to be ornamental, would be too plain and unbroken. 
 Admitting this liberty, the chateau has no affectation, but appears to be 
 simply what it is. It may be said that this is rather the absence of a 
 fault than a beauty ; yet the absence of a fault so extremely common, and 
 so difficult to avoid in buildings of this sort, may at least be esteemed a 
 merit, if not a beauty ; and the public voice acknowledges this maxim, for 
 with this claim, and a good general outline, the building is sure to be ad- 
 mired. 
 
 There are two Roman antiquities at Paris. One called the Palais des 
 
AQUEDUCT OF ARCUEIL. 
 
 103 
 
 Thermes, consists of one large room, now occupied by a cooper, somewhat 
 in the form of a T, 62 feet long, 60 wide, and about 42 high. It is built 
 of small stones and bricks, and vaulted with a groined arch ; underneath, 
 there are, according to Le Grand, three small vaults of unknown length; 
 above is a garden, the earth of which lies immediately on the vault.* The 
 other is the aqueduct of Arcueil. We descend into a vaulted passage 
 which leads to Arcueil, with a square channel for the water at the bottom ; 
 this is conducted into a stone trough considerably inclined and rounded 
 at the end, the water running over the edges. I do not imagine this 
 trough to be Roman, but the disposition shows off the brilliancy of the 
 water beautifully. Clear as it is however, we are shown a crust of enor- 
 mous thickness which had collected in the pipes, and which proves it to 
 hold in solution a considerable quantity of calcareous matter. 
 
 * When I first visited Paris, this place was so blocked up with tubs and barrels, that I 
 could hardly walk about; and on my return, not being aware that any alteration had been 
 made, I did not visit it. I am indebted to my friend Mr, Scott for the following description 
 of it in a more accessible condition : — 
 
 " The ruins of the Palais des Thermes, in the Rue de laHarpe, are very extensive. They 
 consisted originally in baths of water and vapour, but till about three years ago, were occu- 
 pied as wine vaults. The French government at that time purchased a considerable portion 
 of them, and has since built stone props and arches to sustain whatever seemed in danger of 
 falling. In the centre is a spacious, lofty, vaulted hall, without any key-stone ; the walls are 
 extremely thick, formed of rubble and squared stones, and at certain intervals are layers, 
 each of four courses of brick-work : the whole is cemented by a mortar of extreme hardness ; 
 the bricks are of various colours, from light yellow to dark brownish red, and admirably made. 
 The disposition of the bathing recesses, alternately rectangular and semicircular, along the 
 walls, the tubes both for water and vapour, and the channels for the former to flow off, may 
 still be clearly perceived. At the springing of the vault, at each corner of the large hall, is 
 a large stone, carved in the shape, and with the ornaments of a Roman galley. One of the 
 smaller apartments, about 18 feet by 15 in dimension, is the most astonishing object in 
 these ruins. The floor is perfectly flat, both as to its upper and under surfaces ; it is about 
 one foot thick, composed of rubble and mortar, without beam, joist, or large stone ; it is not 
 inserted into the wall, but merely presses laterally against it, and this floor not only sustains 
 itself, and has sustained itself for at least fifteen centuries, but it has also resisted the passage 
 of loaded carts over it. 
 
 " In the vaults of the building, is to be seen the aqueduct which brought a supply of fine 
 water from beyond Arcueil to Lutetia, and as far as the subterraneous part is concerned, in 
 perfect preservation." 
 
104 
 
 LETTER VIL 
 
 PARIS. 
 
 June, 1816. 
 
 I CALLED one day on M. Visconti by appointment, in order to be con- 
 ducted to see some drawings of the Temple of Fortune at Palestrina, by 
 M. Huyot, who has gained great credit by this exertion of his talents. 
 A French student in architecture usually fixes himself in the office, or as 
 they call it atelier, (workshop) of some architect of reputation. Here he 
 pays a louis per month for his seat, for the use of drawings to copy, 
 and for the occasional advice of his master ; and as soon as he has 
 gained some elementary knowledge, he goes to the academy with a 
 ticket, stating his name, age, country, his master's name, &c. At the 
 academy, one day in every month is dedicated to a trial of skill and 
 talent {concours). I find myself sadly deficient in English terms for the 
 practices, and you must therefore excuse me if I introduce French ones. 
 Precisely at eight o'clock in the morning, the professor enters and gives 
 a programme, i. e. a statement of the nature of the building for which a 
 design is demanded, and of the accommodation it requires ; and each 
 pupil makes a plan, elevation, and section, according to his idea of the 
 subject. This of course is a mere sketch, but it is done to a scale. No 
 external communication is allowed, but refreshments are sold by the 
 porter. The sketches thus made are shewn to the professor, and then 
 taken away to be restudied and drawn out fair against the next day of 
 contest. In this second attempt, the leading idea of the sketch is to be 
 strictly maintained, but such farther developments and improvements, 
 as a more leisurely study may suggest, are not only allowed but expected. 
 No pupil is required to make these sketches, but as his being permitted 
 to be a candidate for the grand prix, and for the pension for travelling in 
 Italy, depends on the number of monthly prizes he may obtain, there is 
 sufficient stimulus for the effort. 
 
 The students are permitted to avail themselves of the advice of their 
 master, and of their companions, and even of their assistance in the 
 drawings. The original sketches, with the improved drawings, are then 
 
STUDENTS IN ARCHITECTURE. 
 
 105 
 
 taken back to the academy, and the professor assigns the premium, which 
 is merely a ticket, without any intrinsic value. 
 
 The contest for the grand prix occurs once a year, but no student is 
 admitted as a candidate, unless he have gained a certain number of the 
 monthly prizes. The method is nearly the same as in the monthly con- 
 tests, but of course, the talents called into action are much greater than in 
 the more frequent trials, and the effort necessary is likewise much greater. 
 So also is the reward ; for besides the prize, and the honour accompanying 
 it, the successful candidate is sent to Rome to enter into a new career of 
 knowledge and reputation. When in Italy, each student is expected to 
 send home every year four drawings of some monument, chosen by 
 himself. In the latter years of their residence they usually do much 
 more ; and some late very successful efforts have raised the standard so 
 high, that the task which a man, who wishes to distinguish himself, has 
 to execute in Italy, is now a very serious one. The best productions 
 thus obtained are the Pantheon, by Achille le Clerc, and the Temple of 
 Fortune, at Palestrina, by M. Huyot. The first, having probably ob- 
 served several circumstances not previously noticed, was encouraged to 
 undertake a building so well known, but in order to justify himself in 
 this selection, he thought it necessary to enter into a minuteness and 
 accuracy of detail, of which there had been no previous example. The 
 result has amply justified his choice ; and his researches, and the clear 
 and perfect manner in which he has explained his views, have gained 
 him a great deal of credit. He seems to have proved completely, that 
 the portico was not added at a later time to a building which had been 
 complete without it; but I will not enter into a particular account of 
 this subject till 1 have seen the edifice itself. M. Huyot* has made a 
 very elaborate performance on the Temple of Fortune, and if we may 
 sometimes be inclined to doubt whether his authorities are sufficient for 
 the magnificent restoration which he has made, and to reject the high 
 antiquity which he assigns* to some parts of it, yet we cannot deny him 
 the praise of a diligent and accurate investigation of the existing remains, 
 and of great sagacity and ingenuity in combining them into one regular 
 and symmetrical design. In fact, in many of the recent productions of 
 
 * Huyot afterwards accompanied the mission of Count Forbyn into the east ; he had, I 
 believe, the misfortune to break his leg at Smyrna, and was left there on that account ; but 
 not discouraged, he resumed alone, the task of examining the monuments of that country. 
 
 P 
 
lOG 
 
 PORCELAIN. 
 
 the French students, there is a patient accuracy of examination, and a 
 perfection of drawing, which I have never met with in the architectural 
 students of our own country, and which I was not prepared for here. 
 
 I use, you see, the term student, as applied to the authors of these 
 works, and correctly, for such they are ; but candidates for the grand prix 
 are admitted till thirty years of age, and the privilege is sometimes 
 claimed even till the last moment. They are not therefore hoys, but 
 men of formed habits of research, and improved judgment. Yet these 
 drawings, executed with so much care and skill, are put out of the 
 way in the academy as if they were so much lumber : you will hear them 
 spoken of indeed as ' choscs extremement precieuses,' and with all other 
 expressions of praise you can imagine ; but meanwhile, they are neg- 
 lected or ill-treated, and the poor artist himself is sometimes not much 
 better off. 
 
 M. Gallois took me one morning to breakfast with M. Brogniart, who 
 superintends the royal manufactory of porcelain at Sevres, and to see the 
 products. In point of execution, the finest piece I saw was a plate made 
 at Vienna, ornamented with flowers, performed in the most beautiful 
 manner; it might almost be taken for a painting by Van Huysum; but 
 we only saw it in a glass case, and it may have faults which I did not no- 
 tice. Some of the vases made at Sevres are well shaped, but this is not 
 always the case ; they are often very large ; some are made to imi- 
 tate tortoiseshell, some lapis lazuli, some malachite ; I should prefer them 
 as porcelain. After all, the most pleasing combination of colours on the 
 surface of a plate, is not exactly that of a beautiful drawing, and perhaps 
 the Chinese have shown more taste and judgment, in contenting them- 
 selves with the former, than the Europeans, who have been ambitious 
 of the latter. In the general disposition of the rooms, there is more 
 glitter than I like, but this seems almost unavoidable from the nature of 
 the material, and of the objects of the art ; and it must be acknowledged, 
 that many of the individual productions are very chaste and beautiful. 
 They use a green ground made from chrome, which is an excellent 
 colour, and sets off the gilding exceedingly well ; some of the cups and 
 vases, v/hich are merely gilt on this colour, are among the finest things 
 in the manufactory. They possess also an admirable dead red, which 
 harmonizes perfectly with the gold ; but apparently, this has not bril- 
 liancy enough to please the general eye, for they use but little of it. 
 
THEATRES. 
 
 107 
 
 I must not forget the cameos, which are some of the happiest efforts, and 
 in which the beautiful semi-transparency of the agate is well imitated. 
 A table ornamented with portraits of illustrious men, and with some 
 event in the life of each, is perhaps, the greatest work they have 
 executed ; but although the parts are beautiful, the whole is not so ; and 
 with great perversity of judgment, or of taste, the stand is made of por- 
 celain as well as the top, thus exposing ten-fold to accident, what was 
 already too fragile. 
 
 On another morning I breakfasted with M. Prudhom', and he took me 
 to M. Sommariva's gallery, which contains modern as well as ancient 
 paintings. Several are by M. Prudhom', one of which. Zephyr crossing 
 a brook, is a most charming painting, and is the happiest specimen I 
 have seen of this accomplished artist. It seems exactly the subject for 
 him. Zephyr is represented as a beautiful boy ; his wings are visible, 
 but not obtrusive ; he has just put one foot upon the wet sand, and with a 
 half laugh, is shrinking back from the cold. Besides the paintings, M. 
 Sommariva possesses two works by Canova. A Terpsichore, and a most 
 exquisite Magdalen, who occupies a room to herself, and has every pos- 
 sible advantage of light, and of the colour of the ground ; and deserves 
 every advantage which can be given. 
 
 After so many disquisitions on architecture, you may forgive now and 
 then a desultory letter ; I shall therefore transport you for a few minutes 
 to the theatres, of which, hitherto I have said nothing. 
 
 I went one night to the Theatre des Vaudevilles. The style of deco- 
 ration is paltry, being for the most part conspicuously paper; and as 
 paper, not well executed, nor at all in good taste, though it must be ac- 
 knowledged, it is difficult to say what is good taste in the decoration of a 
 theatre. The place corresponding to the English pit is divided into two 
 parts, of which the one nearest the stage is called the orchestra, and the 
 remainder the parterre ; the price of admission to the former being the same 
 as to the boxes. This arrangement seems to me reasonable, as some of the 
 seats in the orchestra are certainly the best in the house for seeing and 
 hearing the actors. The orchestra is again divided, but I know not why, 
 by a rail across the middle. There are four complete ranges of boxes, 
 and no gallery. 
 
 The drop scene was a view of the Tuilleries from the Seine, as it ap- 
 peared about a century ago ; a bad painting of a bad subject. Among 
 
 p 2 
 
108 
 
 FESTIVALS. 
 
 other pieces, for we had three in the same evening, there was a burlesque 
 of Hamlet, in which an English actor was represented, who came to Paris 
 to teach the French the veritable Hamlet Anglois, while his servant more 
 successfully attempts to introduce the true English blacking. At the first 
 appearance of the former to offer his services, the gestures, manners, and 
 bad pronunciation have something of what one might conceive of an 
 English coxcomb actor ; in the rest of the piece he is a good automaton, 
 but I could trace no resemblance to any thing English. 
 
 The Theatre Francais is you know the famous theatre, which every 
 body sees, admires, and criticises ; but I shall tell you nothing about the 
 acting, my business, at present, is with the architecture, and that is of 
 too solid, and too real a style, to suit well in a theatre : the stories of 
 boxes are fitted in between columns of Greek architecture, and the dis- 
 position is, and looks to be, inconvenient. 
 
 On returning from Rheims I observed, at the entrance to Paris, two 
 inns, one of which has for its sign Providence, indicated by the figure 
 of an old man, intended to represent the Almighty. The other is the 
 Grace of God, with a painting of a man upon his knees. A Frenchman 
 does not see any thing profane in this. On the contrary, I believe, they 
 are intended as inducements to religious people to enter, since it is 
 again the fashion to be religious. However, though such a fashion 
 certainly exists, I do not think it extends very far, even taking religion 
 in the sense of ceremonial observances, the ancient use of the word. 
 They have other signs here you would not expect ; just by me is an 
 auberge ' Au Due de Wellington,' and a ' Grand Hotel Nelson.' What 
 would you think of the ' Napoleon s Head,' or the ' Marshal Soult,' in 
 London ? 
 
 While they are fresh in my mind, I will give you some idea of the 
 crowds and processions I have been looking at yesterday and to day. 
 The first were those of what is called the Fete Dieu, and according to 
 Catholic notions, or at least according to Parisian language, the Almighty 
 himself is carried in procession. The houses were adorned with tapes- 
 try ; that is, with curtains, carpets, and all sorts of old things the inhabi- 
 tants happen to have by them, hung out of the windows. In some parts, 
 however, sheets were the usual hangings, ornamented very prettily with 
 sprigs and festoons of flowers. The windows were filled with specta- 
 tors, who scattered handfuls of rose leaves on the crowd below. 
 
FESTIVALS. 
 
 109 
 
 The leader of the procession was a child about four years old, drest in 
 sheepskins, and carrying a cross, intended to represent St. John the 
 Baptist. He was accompanied by another, of about the same age, typi- 
 cal of our Saviour ; a lamb followed the latter, and consequently both the 
 children and the lamb required attendants ; the rest of the procession 
 consisted of priests, one of whom carried the host, included in the ciborium; 
 and of boys attached to the church, in white surplices. In one procession, 
 for there were several, I believe one in each parish, this was followed by 
 a number of females dressed in white, covered with white veils, and hold- 
 ing in the right hand bunches of white roses ; a mixed crowd followed 
 without order, and apparently, for the most part, without much rever- 
 ence for what was going forward, attracted by curiosity rather than by 
 religion. The procession stopped from time to time, when a considerable 
 number of persons nearest to the host knelt down ; the attendants swung 
 the incense pots, and the white robed boys tossed up rose leaves in such 
 quantities, as to perfume the air. The procession which I followed stop- 
 ped at a reposoir in the ' Marche des Jacobins.' This was a canopy, 
 tastefully ornamented with flowers, over an altar ; here mass was said, 
 and a pigeon was permitted to flutter about, which after the service was 
 liberated entirely. After this the people, or rather the ladies, crowded 
 about the priest with leaves or bouquets of flowers, which they applied to 
 the cross. Another reposoir, near St. Germain des Pres, was lined with 
 crimson, and sparkled with a profusion of wax candles. I afterwards 
 went into the church of St. Sulpice, which was hung with tapestry ; and 
 stayed there about half an hour. Even here, though the architecture is 
 very much inferior to that of a Gothic cathedral in expression, yet united 
 with the music, and with the people assembled for the purpose of wor- 
 shipping, it assisted to produce a pleasing solemnity. During the time 
 I stayed, the church remained about equally full, although all the doors 
 were crowded with people entering or retiring. The Parisians at pre- 
 sent seem to be hung on a pivot, vibrating between atheism and super- 
 stition, without knowing themselves to which party they belong. To 
 reason on religious subjects they consider as adopting the former course ; 
 their education, whether under the old priesthood, or among the whirl- 
 pools of the revolution, alike unfits them for a fair and candid examination 
 of the principles of their belief. They are afraid to be atheists, lest they 
 should ultimately suffer punishment. They are afraid to believe, lest it 
 
110 
 
 FESTIVALS. 
 
 should expose them to ridicule, but they have no idea of selecting what 
 to believe among the doctrines of the church, and rejecting what is false. 
 They take or reject the gold and the dross altogether, because, having at 
 present no apparatus by which they can separate them, they do not think 
 of the possibility of such an operation ; and besides, they would be re- 
 jected by both parties ; heresy is worse here than total disbelief. 
 
 At St. Sulpice, I finished my course ; a heavy rain came on which 
 lasted about four hours, but cleared up in time to afford to the king and 
 princess, who is to be duchess of Berri, an opportunity of entering Paris 
 in fine weather. The scene was very gay and lively, but more from 
 the spectators, than from any object about which they were assem- 
 bled. 
 
 The next day was the wedding of the Duke de Berri. I saw part of the 
 procession, but had not patience to confine myself to Notre Dame for the 
 time necessary to see it there. There were shouts of vive le roi ! but they 
 were very faint and feeble, compared with the acclamations of an English 
 mob. The national guards seemed to be the principal actors, and it was 
 the same the day before. On Sunday, passing through the gardens of 
 the Tuilleries, I mounted on the terrace next the river, and here was the 
 gayest and finest sight. The gardens were full of people, drest in various 
 colours. The ladies sheltering themselves from the rays of the sun, 
 which just then shone fully out, by parasols of all tints. Near the palace 
 the gay crowd was motionless ; farther off some persons walking about, 
 were mixed with those sitting and standing ; further still were more walk- 
 ers, and the crowd gradually became thinner, till it was lost in the ob- 
 scurity of the shady part of the garden, and this shade served as a foil, 
 which enhanced prodigiously the brilliancy of the scene. The beds of 
 flowers were in perfect harmony with the other objects, and the divisions 
 they occasioned among the mass of people, gave opportunity for the co- 
 lours of the ladies' dresses to display themselves. Fountains also added 
 both to the variety and brilliancy of the effect, and the whole scene was 
 gay and splendid as the imagination'of an eastern poet. Thence I walked 
 into the Elysian fields, and here the picture was very different ; all Paris 
 seemed pouring into them. Stands were erected in various parts, whence 
 issued little fountains of wine, and bread and sausages were distributed 
 among the people. Groups of tumblers, actors, grimace-makers, musi- 
 cians, and rope-dancers, were scattered about ; and decently dressed men 
 
ILLUMINATIONS. 
 
 Ill 
 
 and women were riding on see-saws and merry-go-rounds. The crowd 
 got possession of one of the former, and endeavoured by severe jerks to 
 displace those who ventured to mount. Some were presently dislodged, 
 others held more firmly ; none could keep their places long, but new 
 candidates for the honours of the sitting were never wanting ; while their 
 hats flying off, and the wry faces they made as they found themselves un- 
 able to sustain the repeated shocks, excited the merriment of the specta- 
 tors. 
 
 I dined at Chaillot, and returned in the evening to view the illumina- 
 tions. These long continued straight lines are admirably adapted to 
 display crowds and illuminations. From the Barri^re de I'Etoile, at the 
 extremity of the Champs Elysees, to the palace of the Tuilleries, all was 
 one continued blaze. The lampions, used on these occasions, give a 
 very strong light ; they are pots of tallow, about two inches deep, and 
 six in diameter, with a wick of hemp about one inch thick : they were 
 disposed in festoons along the great avenue of the Elysian fields, and 
 in pyramids in the gardens. On entering the Place Louis XV. the 
 view was superb ; on the right were the Chambre des Deputes, the 
 dome of the Invalides, and at some distance, rising alone against the dark 
 sky, the star of the Legion of Honour. Before us was the Tuilleries and 
 its gardens, and the temple which had been erected for the purpose 
 round the basin of water. The terraces presented a single row of illur 
 mination along the cornice, exhibiting the crowds which peopled them. 
 On the left were the Garde Meuble and the Admiralty. At first, before 
 daylight was entirely lost, the illumination of the dome of the Invalides 
 being redder than the twilight, gave a silvery look to the building, which 
 had a peculiar and a very beautiful effect. The portico of the Chambre 
 des Deputes had the steps covered with lampions, and green candelabras 
 (either formed by green lamps or by a transparency,) between the 
 columns. The result was, that the columns were seen dark against the 
 illuminated inside of the portico, without any cutting lines or strong 
 contrasts, but with a sort of tenderness of tint, which gave to them the 
 appearance of semi-transparency. Something of the same sort was 
 exhibited in the Garde Meuble, but less beautifully. The perpendicular 
 lines of the architecture were no where illuminated. Taken singly, none 
 of these objects are equal to some of the best illuminations exhibited in 
 London: but taking the whole together, nothing we have had, or can 
 
112 
 
 THE FRENCH PEOPLE. 
 
 have, can be compared with it. On entering the gardens of the Tuil- 
 leries, the first object was the great basin, which was encircled by 
 lampions on the edge of the water, and thickly surrounded by people, 
 who were shewn to great advantage by the disposition of the lights, and 
 all their varied colouring was reflected in the water. As we approached 
 the Tuilleries, the temple erected round the smaller basin increased in 
 consequence, and hid the palace, which was not highly illuminated. 
 The open part of the gardens was terminated by a colonnade of lampions, 
 and from this point the effect produced by the light thrown on the 
 company on the terrace, from the line of lampions disposed on its 
 cornice was very brilliant and beautiful. These exhibitions have been 
 concluded with a review in the Champs de Mars. There is a raised 
 slope round this place, made by the sovereign people themselves for 
 their own convenience, which gives one a fine opportunity of seeing 
 what passes, and also shews off the spectators to great advantage. The 
 king rode twice round the plain in an open carriage, accompanied by the 
 duchesses of Angouleme and Berri, and the troops saluted him with 
 vive le roi ! 
 
 On Wednesday the playhouses were opened gratis, but I did not go 
 to see what sort of a scene was produced. A Parisian crowd seems in 
 general very tractable ; but the efficient cause of good order is in the 
 soldiers, who are seen everywhere. This habitual submission to the 
 military does not appear very favourable to public liberty ; and in esti- 
 mating the chance of a permanently free constitution in France, it is 
 not enough to consider merely the conduct of the rulers, or the senti- 
 ments of the leaders of different parties ; the manners and habits of the 
 people form an important item. This acquiescence in the interference 
 of the military in every concern may, I suppose, be traced to the ancient 
 government; and we may perhaps attribute to it, in some measure, 
 their ready submission to the despotism of Napoleon. The principle of 
 liberty is not very strong in this country, but I think it exists, and is 
 taking root. The friends of liberty have learned moderation, and that 
 is a valuable lesson. They would be well pleased now with a consti- 
 tution as free as that of England, with which twenty years ago they 
 were not satisfied. Perhaps they are hardly yet convinced that a con- 
 stitution can have no strength, and consequently no value, without the 
 habitual attachment of the people. Let us hope that the present will 
 
THE FRENCH PEOPLE. 
 
 113 
 
 last long enough to create such a habit. It has doubtless many defects 
 in theory, and more in practice ; but it may be better suited to the 
 actual state of France than a more perfect system, and it will form a 
 foundation on which they may stand to attain their further objects, 
 without any violent revolution, an event which almost invariably leads 
 to despotism. 
 
 I have concerned myself very little with politics, but it does not 
 appear to me that the French are in general at all sulky after their 
 defeat. " What could we do against all Europe ?" They have no affec- 
 tion for the Bourbons : it is not in human nature that they should ; 
 but they would be very unwilling to do any thing to excite a fresh war. 
 " Ah monsieur, la France etait si florissante, tout allait si bien avant 
 I'expedition h. Moscou." " C'etait un grand homme, il a fait beaucoup 
 de belles choses, mais son ambition a gate tout, il nous a tons perdus." — 
 • These are sentiments you hear everywhere. They ask me what is 
 thought of Bonaparte in England. I tell them that he is considered as 
 a man of great talents, but that his immoderate ambition rendered his 
 existence dangerous to every country in Europe. For the most part 
 they perfectly agree with me; but after all, I am persuaded they regret 
 him. The dazzling splendor which he spread around the throne of 
 France, his personal activity, his firm and vigorous administration, and 
 the employment of his revenues to public purposes, gratified the imagi- 
 nation, and form altogether a striking contrast with the present sovereign. 
 Yet I believe Louis is not disliked, and his personal character has 
 certainly made him friends since his return. All this seems perfectly 
 natural ; and if we except in favour of England, a somewhat deeper 
 feeling of national honour, and a higher sense of liberty, it is what might 
 take place in any country of Europe, without injury to the character of 
 the people. They did not disUke the Bourbons, but after twenty-five 
 years of absence, it is not wonderful that they did not feel much attach- 
 ment to them. Neither did they much like Napoleon, but they were 
 pleased with the military glory which the nation attained under his 
 auspices. At last they were alienated and disgusted with the mad expe- 
 dition to Moscow, the enormous waste of human life consequent upon it, 
 and the severe conscription to supply that waste; and received the 
 Bourbons with pleasure. After a time, the changes actually introduced 
 excited an apprehension that further and more important changes were 
 
 Q 
 
114 
 
 THE FRENCH PEOPLE. 
 
 in contemplation, affecting the individual interests of almost every class 
 in the community. Alarmed at this, they rejoiced at the return of 
 Napoleon, merely as a means of putting down a government from whose 
 progress they dreaded much personal evil. 
 
 Independently of submission to the military, the habitual dependence 
 of the people on the government to accomplish every object of public 
 utility, is unfavourable to their liberty. Whatever is of advantage to 
 more persons than one, is to be done by the sovereign, or not at all ; and 
 even when an individual is to profit from it, it is a chance if he will do 
 any thing for himself, if he think the government ought to do it for him. 
 The French themselves tell a story to ridicule this propensity, of which 
 they are very sensible. A soldier had enriched himself with plunder, 
 but his shoes were full of holes, and his feet blistered in consequence. 
 " Why do you not buy yourself a pair of shoes ?" said one of his com- 
 rades. " Ah non, c'est le roi qui doit faire cela." Perhaps for " roi" 
 you should read " empereur," but that is of little consequence. 
 
115 
 
 LETTER VIII. 
 
 JOURNEY TO LYON. 
 
 Lyon, July \, 1816. 
 
 I HAVE at last left Paris, after having staid longer than I intended, 
 though by no means long enough to learn all that might have been ac- 
 quired by a continued residence. I took my place for Troyes in the ca- 
 briolet of the diligence, but found it so small that I could not sit upright, 
 and therefore changed to the inside, where I had plenty of room, for the 
 carriage was calculated for nine, and we were only four. We left Paris 
 at three o'clock in the afternoon, and the first part of the ride was tolera- 
 bly pleasant, but in the morning I found myself in one of those wide 
 naked common fields, of which I have so often complained. At Troyes 
 the whole visible horizon is chalk, but there is shade about the town, 
 and a promenade ornamented with large trees all round it, with the Seine 
 running at the bottom. 
 
 Champaine is famous for its wine; the country about Chartres for 
 corn. After hearing this, one is rather surprised to see almost the whole 
 of the first province a corn country, and the latter city exclusively sur- 
 rounded by vineyards; yet such is the fact. Champaine is almost all 
 chalk, a soil very unfavourable to vines. According to Cuvier, one part 
 of it is a complete chalky desert. A similar barrenness of soil has given 
 to another district the name of Lousy Champaine. The wine seems to 
 be grown on the hills which form the edge of the Paris basin. 
 
 We observed in passing along, numerous traces of the campaign of 
 1814. Houses and villages destroyed, and the inhabitants restoring a 
 bit of roof or a floor, as the one or the other was most necessary for their 
 immediate accommodation, and leaving the rest to be gradually renewed, 
 as they should find themselves able to effect it. 
 
 One of my companions had been an officer under Napoleon, and ano- 
 ther, perhaps a Serjeant, or corporal, but he seemed an observing man. 
 Neither of them appeared to have any affection for their general, but the 
 officer in particular was very bitter against him. He had been torn by 
 him from all his domestic comforts, and had not been long enough in the 
 
 Q 2 
 
116 
 
 CATHEDRAL AT TROYES. 
 
 army to cease to think about the privations it required. Both had been 
 wounded, but not very severely, and both wished for peace. This the 
 French think they shall have, if the English will let them be quiet ; but 
 it is difficult to persuade them that there is any correspondent wish 
 on our part ; and quite impossible to convince them that Napoleon's re- 
 turn from Elba was not favoured by the English government. This is 
 very extravagant no doubt, but not more so than the belief in England 
 that the French wish for war. One universal cry rises from every part 
 of France, peace ! peace ! This may perhaps be in some degree the conse- 
 quence of having suffered by unsuccessful war ; but the Avish is not for 
 the moment the less earnest or sincere. Returning strength may recall 
 their ambition. In all nations the consciousness of power seems to pro- 
 duce the desire to exert it, so far at least as to make their neighbours feel 
 it ; and it would be unreasonable to expect that France should prove an 
 exception. 
 
 Our journey to Troyes occupied twenty-four hours. I did little that 
 evening. The next morning I walked round the ramparts and made a 
 few memoranda. Monday was unfortunately ajotir de file, which I had 
 not anticipated, and I was sadly disturbed in my sketches and observations 
 by the services and by the crowds of people. The first view of the build- 
 ings at Troyes rather discontented me, but since I have left it I begin to 
 think more highly of its architecture, and to regret that I did not spend 
 more time there. The cathedral of course was my first object, and I en- 
 deavoured to ascertain the precise date of its architecture, but without 
 success. I was told indeed that the chapels of the choir are older than 
 the rest of the building, that the choir is eight hundred years old, that the 
 nave was built twenty-five years later, and the front last of all. I was 
 pleased with this traditionary account, because the architecture announces 
 the same order in the erections, though not precisely at these epochs. 
 The windows of the chapels, narrow, pointed, and without any sort of 
 internal ornament, may perhaps indicate a building of the middle or lat- 
 ter end of the twelfth century. I insert these guesses at dates, because 
 they tell in themselves several things of the style of building, and are of 
 importance in judging of the historical evidence which I may hereafter 
 be able to obtain ; but if I were now to give to the early architecture of 
 France all the attention it deserves, it would be some years before I went 
 to Italy. The choir has roses in the windows, but the piers are slender 
 
CATHEDRAL AT TROYES. 
 
 117 
 
 to excess, and they are consequently much crippled. It must be deci- 
 dedly posterior to the cathedral of Rheims and Amiens, and perhaps to 
 the choir at Beauvais. The earliest date would be therefore the latter 
 part of the thirteenth century, and it may class very well with the nave 
 of St. Denis, built by Matthieu de Vendome in 1281. In the improved 
 architecture of that period there is usually a capital all round the pier, at 
 the springing of the arches, which open from the body of the building 
 into the side aisles. The capitals of the small shafts are sometimes 
 smaller (in height) than the general capital, (perhaps this indicates a dif- 
 ference of date) but at Troyes they have disappeared altogether. Every 
 column and every shaft, still has its capital ; but the longer ones are not 
 divided into two heights with a capital to each. The capitals which re- 
 main are smaller in proportion, and the pillars more slender than in the 
 earlier Gothic. If the nave was built only twenty-five years later, a great 
 change had taken place in a very short interval. The roses of the win- 
 dows are entirely gone, and the heads filled up with rather a complicated 
 tracery ; the mullions both of the windows, and of the divisions of the 
 arches of the gallery, have lost their capitals ; the ribs of the faulting 
 continue quite simple, and the intermediate spaces are much arched upon 
 them. This must be considered as an example of the third style of 
 French Gothic, and is the most important instance I have seen. The 
 rose windows at the ends of the transepts have a perpendicular pillar of 
 masonry running up the middle, to support them ; a precaution dictated 
 by the same necessity as the upright mullions of our perpendicular style, 
 when the parts became very light and the windows very extensive. The 
 effect is by no means pleasing. That of the north transept is inserted in 
 a square externally. I cannot venture to assign a date for these no- 
 velties, but both of them are characteristic in the history of the art. The 
 earliest rose windows were complete detached circles ; those which suc- 
 ceeded are more or less united with accessories, forming a pointed win- 
 dow. The peculiarities at Troyes are posterior to both these. 
 
 The western front is of the last style of Gothic, and is a rich and beau- 
 tiful specimen. Two towers were designed, but one only is built, and 
 this is so singular, that I am induced to think it an old tower, of which 
 the lower part has been entirely covered with work of the latter part 
 of the fifteenth century, and the upper touched up and altered towards 
 
118 
 
 CATHEDRAL AT TROYES. 
 
 the latter part of the sixteenth, or beginning of the seventeenth. This 
 last is abundantly denoted by the ornaments, and by little but the orna- 
 ments. In the earlier parts the little arches of the decorations terminate 
 in a trefoil, and some of the mouldings pass over the others in the manner 
 I have already described, as belonging to the fourth style of Gothic. In 
 the second French Gothic, the crenated ornament occurs abundantly in 
 the circular parts of the windows. In the third it is found at the heads 
 of the divisions of the windows, and among the leaves of the tracery. In 
 both these it is always on the edge of the opening, and close to the glass ; 
 in the fourth it occurs among the mouldings, and lies over some of the 
 interior ones : it is even repeated two or three times in the same open- 
 ing, and becomes singularly varied in its forms. One opening at Troyes 
 has it as in fig. 1, another exhibits it as in fig. 2, or as in fig. 3, 
 
 becoming a sort of scroll, enriched with foliage ; lastly, and this also 
 may be seen in a church at Troyes, it inclines forwards from the face of 
 the work, instead of lying parallel to it. 
 
 Two other churches at Troyes attracted my attention, that of the Ma- 
 delaine and St Urban. The former has the shape of a Greek cross in a 
 square, the angles being filled up with double aisles. The windows are 
 narrow and unornamented ; one, two, or three together ; in the last case 
 the middle is the largest. Externally, they exhibit the triangular orna- 
 ment, but this has been cut away from a great many of them. There are 
 neither galleries nor two stories of aisles, and the ' rond point' is of a late 
 Gothic, neither curious nor beautiful; so that we lose the character 
 usually offered by that part in ascertaining the date. The groining of 
 
 Fig. 2. 
 
CHURCHES AT TROYES. 
 
 119 
 
 the vault is oblique. Across the opening of the choir is a beautiful 
 arched screen, somewhat less complicated than at Chartres, and of 
 less delicate workmanship, but still very rich, and well executed. One 
 of the statues contained in it, and apparently of the same date, is very 
 fine ; but most of these have been destroyed, and one or two are sup- 
 plied in painted wood. We may still distinguish that the old work 
 has been painted. The church of St. Urban is perhaps of the end of 
 the thirteenth century, or beginning of the fourteenth ; it is small, but 
 very beautiful inside and out. The tracery of the windows is in roses, 
 not in leaves. The aisles are not continued to the ' rond point,' but there 
 is a sort of gallery which is opened into windows, forming a continuation 
 of the upper windows. The south and north portals offer the peculiarity 
 of arches supported on detached columns, but these columns have a rib 
 down each side, and are without capitals. I consider them as posterior 
 to the body of the building, with which they do not well unite, or rather 
 the outer half of the portico does not correspond well with the part 
 which joins the church, and here perhaps the addition took place, in the 
 fifteenth century. 
 
 I left Troyes in the evening, but I fancied I could distinguish that we 
 did not leave the chalk till about Bar sur Seine. In the morning I found 
 myself in a deep valley, broken by limestone rocks, and bright little 
 streams bursting out by the road side, and hurrying down into the Seine, 
 which seemed here about as large as the river Lee at Ware. Woods are 
 scattered about, but in small proportion, and not enough to prevent an 
 appearance of nakedness. After some time we left the valley, and again 
 entered a wide common field, but much more hilly than those to which 
 I have lately been accustomed, and here and there with a spot of wood. 
 At last we descended through a forest, to the little village of Val Suzon. 
 It is situated in a very deep valley, to which I can think of no nearer re- 
 semblance than Dovedale, but the rocks are less bold, a»d the hills less 
 steep and high ; still however, it is a fine romantic hollow, too uniformly 
 covered with brush-wood, which, as is the case in most of the French 
 forests, is preserved merely for fuel ; and deficient in trees. Deep and 
 narrow ravines opening into this valley, seemed a suitable resort for 
 wolves, but it was not a time of year, or of day, to see any of these ani- 
 mals. The botany for the first time differed essentially from that of 
 
120 
 
 CHURCHES AT DIJON. 
 
 England. Crossing again a range of hills, we soon arrived at Dijon, 
 which is situated at a little distance from their base. 
 
 The cathedral of St. Benigne, at Dijon, has been called a very fine 
 building, and Millin speaks of it as a very ancient one. I therefore 
 was in great haste to visit it, but was very much disappointed. It is in- 
 deed, of the thirteenth century, and perhaps later in style than in date, 
 but small, poor, and deficient in expression. An older church was 
 crushed by the fall of a lofty central tower in 1271, and the present edi- 
 fice was completed in 1291. Its want of effect is perhaps partly owing 
 to the unstained glass, and to the whitewash. Till the period of the 
 French revolution, an ancient domical temple existed behind the choir of 
 this church. It was composed of two circular peristyles, one above the 
 other, and is said to have been erected a. d. 173, under Marcus Aurelius, 
 in honour of Jupiter, Mars, and Saturn. In later times it was con- 
 secrated to the Virgin. Near the cathedral are two other churches, one 
 of which is now a stable, and the other the office of weights and measures. 
 The porch of the first is pretty good. In another part of the town 
 there is also a group of three churches. 
 
 The principal is that of St. Michel, which is said to have been built, or 
 rebuilt in 1030, and restored in 1338. But in 1497 it threatened ruin, 
 and the parish repaired it, and added the present choir. Here the 
 windows are very long and narrow. Some are united in pairs, with a 
 rose over them, but not included in any common arch. At the ends of 
 the transept the rose windows and the openings below them are filled 
 with tracery. The aisles are high and well lighted, but the general effect 
 is heavy and displeasing. The western portal is the most singular part 
 of the edifice. The architect was Hugues Sambin, a native of Dijon, 
 who is said to have been the friend and pupil of M. Angelo Buonarotti. 
 The porch is a return to the first Gothic style of shafts and statues ; the 
 latter indeed haVe been destroyed in the storms of the revolution, except 
 those in the soffites of the arches, where angels are represented with 
 wings and fiddles, and these are very little damaged. Many parts are 
 ornamented with Arabesques, and some of the capitals have the Gothic 
 trefoil topsy-turvy. The arches are semicircular, and are surmounted by 
 an entablature in a continued line. It seems, that on the first introduc- 
 tion of Italian Architecture, the first period of the renaisscmce, as every 
 
^ 2. oscuk^'nTh Sculp . 
 
NOTRE DAME AT DIJON. 
 
 121 
 
 body here calls it, the great lines of the construction were better pre- 
 served than they were afterwards. I met a gentleman who contended 
 that this porch was copied from a Roman arch of triumph, and presented 
 all the characters of one, though there is in fact no resemblance. The 
 ease with which a Frenchman seems to utter all that comes into his 
 head, without any fear of ridicule, ought, one would think, to give him 
 an opportunity of speedily correcting his errors, but for some reason or 
 other this does not take place. The middle of the porch has a little cu- 
 pola. Over the porch, the five orders of architecture, disposed in all 
 ways, are heaped over one another, " as if," said a blacksmith, in whose 
 shop I sheltered myself from a shower of rain, " they had got hold of 
 Vignola, and determined to execute all he had described." This remark 
 was the more just, as the orders really resemble those of Vignola. It 
 would do well for a front to St. Eustache, at Paris. The two other 
 churches of this group are no longer used as places of worship, and the 
 outsides did not incite me to be at the trouble of examining them 
 within. 
 
 But the church at Dijon most worthy of attention is that of Notre 
 Dame. It was built, according to Agencourt, by St. Louis ; and proba- 
 bly therefore, in the first half of the thirteenth century ; and there are 
 many circumstances which put one in mind of the church at Mantes, at- 
 tributed likewise to that monarch ; but we have no account of its conse- 
 cration before 1334. 
 
 The western front has some resemblance in its lower part, to the southern 
 portal of Chartres. It has an open portico, of three arches in front, and two 
 arches deep, with a little square additional piece. The central part is 
 vaulted in oblique groins. The doorways are ornamented with columns 
 singularly crowded together, and statues have been placed on some of 
 those of the front row, but these, as usual, have been destroyed. I could 
 not determine whether there had been any projection at the feet of these 
 statues to give them an apparent support. The canopies above them 
 are rather appended to the capitals, than forming part of them, and 
 they consist of models of architecture ; nearly the same subject being re- 
 peated in all of them. The space over these arches has been orna- 
 mented with figures, and we find also a sort of Roman or Arabesque or- 
 nament ; but I consider this, not as indicating a difference of date, but 
 as an approximation to a style I may expect to find in the South of 
 
 R 
 
122 
 
 NOTRE DAME AT DIJON. 
 
 France and in Italy, retaining much more of the ancient architecture, 
 than that of our northern parts. Even in the north of France, we 
 meet frequently with approximations to the Roman orders and orna- 
 ments in the early Gothic. Above the door of the southern portal a row 
 of disks still remains, placed, I suppose, behind the heads of statues of 
 saints, which have been destroyed. These are observed also at the 
 porch of St. Germain des Pres, and in some other buildings, where 
 they are considered as proofs of high antiquity. 
 
 Over this porch or portico are two ranges, each of nineteen columns, 
 supporting little arches, and above and below, and between these 
 ranges are richly ornamented bands. On these bands, in several places, 
 are indications, as if there had been figures of animals projecting di- 
 rectly forwards, as you may frequently see in cases where they are intro- 
 duced as water-spouts, and such figures are still seen at the back of this 
 facade. The annexed sketch may give you an idea of what I suppose 
 to have been the original design of the composition. 
 
 The plan of this building is a Latin cross, with aisles to the nave, two 
 little chapels on each side of the straight part of the choir, and a very 
 narrow aisle behind the choir. A gallery or triforium runs round the 
 building at the usual height, and a second within the windows of the 
 clerestory. In Gothic churches, the glass of the upper windows is 
 
NOTRE DAME AT DIJON. 123 
 
 usually over the range of little shafts forming the triforium, here it is 
 over the wall, forming the back of the gallery. At the rond point this 
 gallery occupies the whole width of the aisle below ; a very wide gal- 
 lery, though a very narrow aisle ; and it is there lighted by circular 
 windows, but whether these belong to the original design I cannot tell. 
 One end of the transept presents an arrangement somewhat similar to 
 that of St. Leger, at Soissons, with five equal lancet windows below, and 
 9, rose window above. The work of the rose window fell out some time 
 ago, and it is now quite naked. The five windows below are long and 
 narrow, and without any tracery : indeed there is no tracery in the 
 church. They have externally six shafts, at some distance from the wall, 
 supporting little pointed arches ; internally, there are only three shafts, 
 which of course do not correspond with the windows ; and they support 
 flat scheme arches on little blocks. Over the intersection of the cross is 
 a square tower, with a circular turret at each angle. The inside of this 
 tower is ornamented with very slender shafts, and arches upon them, 
 and was certainly intended to be exposed from below to the interior of 
 the church ; the present vaulting of that part being an awkward poste- 
 rior addition. The old vaulting, above these shafts, was begun, but 
 never completed. 
 
 While I was making sketches in this church, a girl took a chair just 
 behind me, in order at the same time to perform her devotions, and to see 
 what I was about ; but religion and curiosity combined were insufficient 
 to keep her awake. Soon after, the same blacksmith who had so well 
 criticised the porch at St. Michel, came up and offered to conduct me all 
 over the church, of VY^hich he had the keys. I assented to his proposal, 
 and was not a little struck with the extreme thinness of the walls : those 
 of the turrets, though rising 100 feet from the roof, are not 6 inches 
 thick, and other walls are about in the same proportion. Indeed, the 
 architect seems to have loved lightness ' d la folie ; for, in ornamenting 
 the inside of his tower, he has used shafts 20 feet long, and only 7 inches 
 in diameter, and one of these is of a single stone : several other shafts are 
 about 1 5 feet long, and 5 1 inches in diameter, each of a single piece, and 
 all perfectly detached from the wall for their whole length. They are of 
 a very hard stone, and so are also some of the thinnest parts of the 
 masonry : the rest of the walls and piers are of a material less hard and 
 heavy, and the vaulting, which is in oblique groins, is of a stone ex- 
 
 R 2 
 
124 JOURNEY TO LYON. 
 
 tremely light and porous. They are all found within a few leagues of 
 the place. 
 
 The rain disappointed me in a walk I had projected, in order to see 
 a little of the country about Dijon. Just out of the town is a noble 
 spring, clear and abundant, and the use the people of the city make of it 
 is to wash their foul linen. A shed built over it, and rows of stones in 
 the water, make it very convenient for that purpose. It seems almost a 
 profanation to contaminate the crystal fluid so immediately, with dirt and 
 soapsuds. The soil is very rocky in the immediate neighbourhood, and 
 full of quarries, which form excellent vineyards ; but till we reach this 
 place. Burgundy has as few vineyards as Champaine. The finest wine is 
 made a little beyond Dijon, on the road to Lyon. 
 
 In England, we see sometimes written up working jeuwUer, ivorking 
 tvatc/i-maker, indicating, I suppose, the double advantage, that their em- 
 ployers will have to give their directions to the very individual who will 
 execute them, and that it will be cheaper, as no intermediate profit is 
 necessary. In France, on the contrary, we find marchands serruriers, 
 marcliands Jiorlogers, Sfc; the possessor of the shop apparently vindi- 
 cating hirnself from the charge of being a mere workman. 
 
 I left Dijon on the morning of the 28th. One meets in French dili- 
 gences, as well as in English stages, great variety of company, sometimes 
 very agreeable, and sometimes rather the reverse. My companions from 
 Troyes belonged to the latter class, but to make amends, I was this morn- 
 ing very fortunate, and met with a civil and very pleasant company. 
 Both parties were I believe traders, going to the fair of Beaucaire. On 
 leaving the town we observed a man sleeping under the walls of a church. 
 He had made himself a sort of roof, and suspended to it a napkin, to 
 keep out the rain, which descended heavily, and his goods were spread 
 about, covered with old tapestry. It was a testimony to the honesty, or 
 to the good police of Dijon ; and perhaps if my companions had not 
 thought it very ridiculous, I should have set it down as one of the cus- 
 toms of the country. On this road there was no longer any deficiency of 
 vineyards. They lie at the foot of a range of hills almost all the way to 
 Chalons sur Saone ; these hills are of considerable height, (but not moun- 
 tains) intersected frequently by deep, narrow ravines, sometimes rocky, 
 and giving me something of the idea of the Mendip hills, between Wells 
 and Chedder, but less bold, less lofty, and to the eye, less rich ; for though 
 
JOURNEY TO LYON. 
 
 125 
 
 the upper part is covered with wood, yet it is merely bushes and under- 
 wood. This is the famous Cote d'Or. All the lower parts are covered 
 with the vineyards which produce the Burgundy wine, but some are much 
 better than others, though the physical situation of all seems precisely 
 alike. These hills were on the right ; on the left was a fertile and well 
 cultivated plain, not entirely flat, shaded with fruit trees, and here and 
 there a little bit of wood : the vines sometimes extending also on this 
 side. The rain did not permit me to see the extent of this lower country, 
 or how it was bounded. 
 
 There is a cathedral at Chalons, of which the earliest part may perhaps 
 be of the pointed architecture of the eleventh century. The choir is of 
 the twelfth and thirteenth, and some parts of the edilice must be of the 
 fifteenth, but I had little time to examine it. We found the floods so 
 high, that the barge {Coclie d'eau) which passes between Chalons and 
 Lyon could not go, the tracking paths being covered with water. Three 
 of my companions and myself engaged a voiture to take us to Macon. 
 We breakfasted, or dined, as it is here usually called, at Tournu. In the 
 north of France the meals are disposed pretty much as in England, but 
 the breakfast is more solid. Here we dine at eleven or twelve, sometimes 
 earlier, and it is the first meal. Supper is usually about eight. 
 
 At Tournu is a curious church. The body is of a rude sort of Norman 
 architecture, apparently of high antiquity, with additions decidedly poste- 
 rior, but still Norman, and some trifling alterations of the fourteenth and 
 sixteenth centuries. The choir has something like pilasters, and the in- 
 tersection of the nave and transept is surmounted by a dome, which I 
 cannot doubt to be part of the original structure. 
 
 The banks of the Saone at first are flat, but the scenery begins to im- 
 prove about Tournu. The road from this place occasionally passes over 
 moderate hills, and exposes views of distant mountains covered with 
 wood, cultivated hills, and rich and populous valleys. The weather was 
 beautiful, and while our carriage remained waiting at Tournu, I walked 
 on and had truly a time of enjoyment. At Macon, my companions con- 
 ducted me to the Hotel de I'Europe, and I felt myself so comfortable, 
 and was so well pleased with the place and the people, that I was quite 
 sorry not to be able to find a good Gothic cathedral, as a reason for 
 spending a day or two there. On the 30th we found a passage boat, and 
 descended to Lyon. The hills which bound the valley approach as we 
 
126 
 
 JOURNEY TO LYON. 
 
 descend, and the entrance of Lyon is like the approach to Bristol from 
 the sea, under the Slopes of Durdham and King's Downs, and the rocks 
 of the hot wells, but the river is larger and the cliffs not so high. There 
 are a few curious looking chateaus in descending the Saone, and one or 
 two churches one might look at, if employment were wanted, but nothing 
 is very striking, and you may easily conceive that thus going down in a 
 boat, I can hope to catch nothing but the most obvious features. 
 
127 
 
 LETTER IX. 
 
 LYON. 
 
 Lyon, nth July, 1816. 
 
 The first object of my curiosity in every town is the cathedral. This 
 city possesses a magnificent one. A little description of Lyon, which I 
 have purchased, says, that the nave appears to be of the age of St. Louis, 
 (1226 to 1271), I wanted history, and not conjecture, but this is proba- 
 bly about the truth. There is less ornament, and less ingenuity in the ma- 
 nagement of the different parts than at Amiens, but the piers are more 
 slender, and more complicated ; the bases have more projection, and the 
 capitals are smaller than in that edifice, and I can easily believe it to be 
 a little, though but little later. The choir is more ancient, but I must 
 give you a little description. 
 
 The original building consists of a nave with side aisles, a transept 
 without them, a chapel of two arches on each side of the choir, but neither 
 aisle nor chapel in the chevet. The choir is lower than the nave, and there 
 is a rose, or rather a wheel window above it. The chevet is polygonal, and 
 its windows are divided into two parts by a little column, and have a sort 
 of trefoil in the upper part. 
 
 The straight part of the choir and the transept have the windows 
 placed by threes, or perhaps it would be better to say, divided into three 
 by small columns, but the parts are not united either externally or inter- 
 nally by a common arch. 
 
128 
 
 CATHEDRAL AT LYON. 
 
 At each end of the transept is a fine wheel window, understanding by 
 this term a circular window, in which little columns placed as spokes 
 in a wheel, form the principal part of the composition. I do not know 
 if, when this arrangement was first introduced, the centre was ever 
 left solid, but we have very early specimens, in which it was perfo- 
 rated. Each division between the columns was usually terminated to- 
 wards the circumference by a trefoil, but sometimes there is a simple or a 
 double arch. By degrees other perforations were made beyond these 
 primary divisions, but still included in a common circle. After a time 
 the spokes ceased to be little columns, and the direct radiating lines be- 
 came a very small portion of the composition. Other arches and orna- 
 ments were introduced, and the former were frequently based upon the 
 circumference instead of appearing to spring from the centre ; and lastly, 
 the divisions variously branched seemed to lose all relation to the original 
 idea, except in the general circular form. I have three names to apply to 
 these different distributions, which might form botaniculty, five species. 
 
 1st. Columnar spokes and no exterior openings, as at St. Stephen's 
 at Beauvais, and the window over the choir at Lyon. 
 
 2nd. Columnar spokes and exterior openings. In France we find such 
 at Chartres, and in the end windows of the transept of which I am now 
 treating : to both these I should give the name of wheel windows. 
 
 3rd. No columns ; the divisions are variously branched, but still exhi- 
 biting an appearance of radiation. Such as this we have at Amiens, 
 Beauvais, Lyons, and many other places, and I should appropriate to 
 them the name of rose windows. 
 
 4th. Arches and ornaments arising from the circumference as well as from 
 the centre. This disposition gives a squareness to the ends of the divisions 
 which may well merit the name of marigold windows, the cathedrals at 
 Mantes and at Chalons sur Marne, will offer examples. 
 
 5th. No radiation preserved in the principal divisions. I do not know 
 that I can cite for this any other example than that at the cathedral at 
 Troyes, and it may, without inconvenience, be left without a name. 
 
CATHEDRAL AT LYON. 
 
 129 
 
 I believe these different arrangements succeeded each other nearly in 
 the order I have mentioned, but not uniformly so. In small windows of 
 the same epoch, the disposition is generally more simple than in the large 
 ones, but after the columnar spokes had once been abandoned, it does not 
 appear that they were ever resumed. 
 
 The gallery or triforium, of the transept and choir, has semi-circular 
 arches resting on columns almost Corinthian, and on pilasters which 
 might be deemed of the renaissance, if some of the latter were not zig-zag. 
 On the whole, if I had met in the north of France with a building cor- 
 responding in character with the choir and transept of the cathedral at 
 Lyon, I should say that it had been erected about the year 1200, or ra- 
 ther earlier, when the first style of pointed architecture was beginning to 
 give way to the second. In the nave, the larger shafts are connected with 
 the masonry of the piers and walls, the smaller are constructed sepa- 
 rately. At Notre Dame at Dijon, exactly the reverse takes place; there, 
 the large shafts have an independent construction, and the smaller are 
 united with the mass of the work. Some of the pillars next the choir, as 
 well as those of the choir itself, have nearly the ancient Attic base ; in 
 others, the Gothic forms are fully developed. The groining of the vaults 
 is oblique, and the last pair of pillars seems to be an addition of the four- 
 teenth century. In the fifteenth century, several chapels were added to 
 the nave ; the last and most beautiful of which is that which was built 
 for Charles, Cardinal de Bourbon, who was king of France for four hours. 
 This Charles, Duke de Vendome, Cardinal Archbishop of Rouen, and 
 legate of Avignon, was born in 1523, put upon the throne in 1589 by 
 the Duke de Mayenne, and died in 1590 ; is it possible we can have Go- 
 thic architecture in this city of so late a date ? My guide-book tells me 
 that his brother, Pierre de Bourbon, who finished this chapel, married 
 the daughter of Louis XI. and multiplied the thistle among his orna- 
 ments, to signify that the king had made him a ' cher don,' Louis XL 
 
130 
 
 ST. PAUL AT LYON. 
 
 died in 1483, and I suspect that my history is not correct. This chapel 
 is entirely in the pointed style, and part of the vaulting exhibits some in- 
 dication of the manner of our Henry the Seventh's chapel at Westmin- 
 ster. We find also the bases of adjoining parts on different levels, and 
 mouldings lost and re-appearing, or seeming to pass one behind the other ; 
 but I cannot find the complicated arch, so common in the late French 
 Gothic, ih any of the ornaments. 
 
 The towers of this cathedral are placed, one at each end of the tran- 
 sept. The lower part, and perhaps the whole of what has been executed 
 of the northern, seems to be of the same date with the nave. The 
 southern tower is of the fifteenth century. They are both unfinished, 
 except by a sort of balustrade, on which is laid a modern Italian tiled 
 roof, a termination not at all in harmony with the character of the build- 
 ing. 
 
 The portal, including in that term the whole western front, is said to 
 be of the time of Louis XI., who reigned from 1462 to 1483. It hardly 
 seems to me all of one date, I should have assigned to some parts an 
 earlier epoch, but there is a considerable quantity of ornamental work 
 above the doorway, which may well belong to the date assigned. The 
 filling in of the rose window belongs to the third style of Gothic. The 
 idea of the composition seems to have been a square, with a turreted but- 
 tress at each angle, crowned with a gable in the middle, and a tower at 
 each extremity, but without any thing below to carry the division of 
 these parts down to the ground. The towers, however, have never been 
 finished, and at present do not rise so high as the gable. On the sides of 
 the nave, the windows of the clerestory are divided into three parts, with 
 three roses above them pyramidally disposed, but not united externally in 
 a common arch. , 
 
 Besides the cathedral, there is a church dedicated to St. Paul, of 
 Saxon architecture, said to have been built by Saint Sacerdos, inthe sixth 
 century, and repaired, first by Ledrade in 802, and afterwards by Hugh 
 the First, in 1103. The ancient work remaining is probably of the last 
 date, but the inside is a poor modern restoration. The intersection is 
 crowned with an octangular tower, ornamented with Norman arches, and 
 a fine cornice with modillions, many of which are sculptured with the 
 heads of men and animals. 
 
 The church of St. Nizier is more deserving of attention ; it was built 
 
.C ill F 11 C H AT ATM A I . 
 
ST. NIZIER AT LYON. 
 
 131 
 
 by a citizen of the name of Renouard, who begun it in 1300, and finished 
 it before 1315, and we find here most of the characters of the fourth 
 style of Gothic. There are small capitals at the springing of the arches 
 of the nave, but the ribs are carried up and spread upon the vaulting 
 without any thing to mark the termination of the upright part. The 
 Attic base is entirely abandoned, and we have a simple ogee in its place, 
 and the bases of the different parts occur at different levels, though not 
 with all the intricacy which is found in some buildings of a later pe- 
 riod. 
 
 The vaulting in France seems to have proceeded gradually from the 
 circular to the obtusely pointed arch, and afterwards to the more acute ; 
 it then flattened again in elliptic curves. I did not think that the latter 
 change had taken place so early as the beginning of the fourteenth cen- 
 tury, but as we find some examples at St. Nizier, we may probably 
 assign to it this date. This church may be considered as an important 
 evidence to fix the earliest introduction of these three peculiarities of the 
 later Gothic ; to all of which I should otherwise attribute a much more 
 recent period. The windows of the clerestory are leafy, and the ribs of 
 the roof are disposed so as to have something of the same effect. 
 
 As we proceed south we observe more evident traces of the imitation 
 of Roman mouldings and ornaments, but this is most conspicuous in the 
 earlier edifices. In proportion as the pointed architecture obtained a 
 distinct style and character, these smaller parts were made to corre- 
 spond with the general design, and forms quite peculiar to it were in- 
 troduced. Thus we find considerable evidence of the imitation of Roman 
 art in the cathedral, but none in St. Nizier. 
 
 One of the most curious antiquities of Lyon is the church of Aynai, a 
 name, according to the Tableau de Lyon, derived from Athenas ; it is 
 situated a little out of the town on the long point of land which divides 
 the Saone from the Rhone. The building was originally founded by St. 
 Badoul in the fourth century, but destroyed by the Saracens in the 
 eighth, and the present edifice was begun in the tenth, and perhaps not 
 finished till 1070. The outside is ornamented with a sort of mosaic of 
 red brick, or tiles inserted into a whitish stone. The western tower has 
 a pyramidal roof, and a smaller quarter pyramid at each angle. All these 
 seem to me to belong to the original construction. The inside forms a 
 cross, with a dome at the intersection supported on four granite columns 
 
 s 2 
 
132 
 
 ROMAN ANTIQUITIES. 
 
 formed from two ancient ones, each of which has been sawn in two ; 
 each piece is about thirteen feet six inches high. They are said to have 
 decorated the altar of a temple of Augustus. Over the dome is a central 
 tower. The choir is little more than a semi-circular recess, with a semi- 
 dome : this arrangement alone is a proof of very high antiquity. The 
 ancient apsis was nothing more than a large niche, and the complete de- 
 velopment of the cross, in the plans of our churches, is not prior to the 
 eleventh century. 
 
 There is a building close to the cathedral called the Hotel de Chev- 
 ri^re, supposed to be of the same date as the church at Aynai. It is or- 
 namented like that edifice, with red tiles inserted in the masonry, and re- 
 sembles it in some other peculiarities of its architecture. It has been 
 much cut up by modern alterations, but the original disposition was not 
 perfectly regular. The principal decoration arises from a row of little 
 semi-circular arches, some of which rest on Corinthian-like columns, and 
 others on small and unornamented corbels, under each of which was a 
 square recess containing a statue. There is a large arched doorway, but 
 all the present windows are modern, and I doubt if there were originally 
 any windows towards the street. Tradition asserts that this building was 
 once inhabited by St. Thomas a Becket. 
 
 Besides these antiquities, Lyon boasts some remains of Roman mag- 
 nificence, which however, in their present condition, are more interesting 
 to the antiquary than to the architect. The principal is an aqueduct, 
 a considerable fragment of which I visited, but it is so surrounded 
 by high stone walls, that it was impossible to obtain a good view. 
 This aqueduct is the more curious, as according to M. Millin, it is 
 conducted across three of the deeper valleys, in leaden pipes, like syphons 
 reversed, descending the hill on one side, and ascending on the other. 
 I believe we have no other example of such a disposition in the Roman 
 aqueducts, and it has even been asserted that the ancients did not know 
 that water would always rise to its level. 
 
 There is an ancient crypt under the church of St. Irene, which is at- 
 tributed, perhaps on no solid foundation, to the Romans. It is a con- 
 tinued vault supported on columns and arches. There is not sufficient 
 character in its architecture to enable me to pronounce on the time 
 of its erection, but I should doubt its being prior to the eleventh cen- 
 tury. 
 
MODERN BUILDINGS. 133 
 
 Let me now conduct you to modern objects ; a fine old convent has 
 been converted into a museum : the suite of rooms being disposed round 
 a quadrangle. These large convents have been very convenient for public 
 purposes. I wish we had preserved some of them for that use in Eng- 
 land. This at Lyon has twenty-one windows in a range towards the 
 Place des Terreaux. Fragments of architecture and sculpture, altars and 
 inscriptions, principally found in the neighbourhood, form a very re- 
 spectable collection of antiquities. The building includes also a gallery 
 of paintings, which, if it cannot boast any of the masterpieces of art, yet 
 contains many paintings worth attention. The catalogue enumerates Ru- 
 bens and Guido among the artists, but I saw no production of either. 
 M. Frere Jean, a merchant of this city, conducted me there, in com- 
 pany with an artist of the name of Epinat, and introduced me to M. Hurt- 
 ault, the director, who is a very able antiquary. I afterwards dined with 
 M. Fr^re Jean, who is a very pleasant, friendly man, at his country 
 house, if one may apply the expression to a habitation within the city. 
 It has a nice garden, and commands a noble view, extending to the dis- 
 tant Alps. I endeavoured to persuade him and M. Epinat, that Napo- 
 leon was really at St. Helena, but I believe I left them incredulous. 
 They did not seem, however, very confident, that it was the English who 
 helped him back from Elba. This is the first time I have met any 
 Frenchman willing to entertain a doubt on that subject. 
 
 An Englishman travelling in France, is frequently struck with the 
 total deficiency, even among respectable merchants and artists, of that 
 sort of general knowledge, which might enable them decidedly to reject 
 any fable that the government or a party leader may endeavour to impose 
 upon their credulity. I have heard here, as a most certain and authentic 
 piece of intelligence, from one who boasted that he had been in London, 
 that Napoleon had escaped from St. Helena, and was about to return 
 to France at the head of an immense army of Americans ; that the latter 
 had already declared war against England, and taken Gibraltar. 
 
 There are many beautiful spots in the neighbourhood of Lyon, and 
 indeed the situation of the city is one Avhich affords great variety of 
 scene. It is placed at the junction of two rivers, one of which passes 
 through a romantic valley, between two lofty rocks, the other coasts the 
 hills under steep banks, leaving a rich and fertile plain on the oppo- 
 site side. These hills are adorned in many parts with country houses of 
 
131 
 
 SCENERY ABOUT LYON. 
 
 great variety of form, which are often very picturesque, though perhaps 
 none of them are individually beautiful. At some distance are higher 
 hills, or rather mountains, which by the contrast of form, and rich aerial 
 tints, set off the cultivated plain and slopes of the immediate neighbour- 
 hood ; here and there a point of the Alps appears above them, marked 
 only by the brilliant whiteness of the snow with which it is covered, 
 and belonging, in appearance, rather to the heaven than to the earth. 
 
 My pleasantest walk was on the bank of the Rhone. For the whole 
 length of the town, there is a fine broad quay along the shore, and the 
 road to Geneva continues for some miles by the side of the stream, 
 offering fine views of the river, and of the white summits of the distant 
 Alps. A steep gravelly hill, presenting occasionally perpendicular cliffs, 
 bounds the road on the left, but receding from the town, the slope be- 
 comes more gradual, and coffee-houses and gardens in ascending terraces, 
 present themselves soon after leaving the city. The most celebrated of 
 these is the Cafe de Gaillet, where the Lyonnese drink beer, eat bread and 
 cheese, or sweet cakes, and take ices. Some amuse themselves under the 
 shade of the orange trees ; others seek the shelter of a noble saloon, I 
 suppose 150 feet long, and 40 feet broad, and ornamented with looking- 
 glasses. If the style of decoration be French, it is certainly good of its 
 kind ; and besides, the taste for gaiety and glitter is extremely well exer- 
 cised in a coffee-house. On a fine Sunday afternoon all the population of 
 Lyon, in their gayest attire, seem to come out on this road. In London 
 the people scatter themselves on such an occasion in all directions ; in 
 these French towns all seem to direct their steps to one point, and pains 
 are taken by the government or the community, to make that point agree- 
 able. This coffee-house has however at present, one disadvantage ; the 
 garden is on a terrace level with the saloon, and a row of young plane 
 trees by the side of the road below, is just of a height to shut out the 
 prospect from the whole range. Another coffee-house, which has its little 
 summer houses and Chinese pavilions scattered about at different eleva- 
 tions, is better in this respect, but inferior in every other. 
 
 At my inn, the Quatre Nations, there is a table d'hote rather too early 
 for my convenience. When there, I generally find some one whom I re- 
 cognize as the companion of some former portion of my journey, but un- 
 fortunately none of those who pleased me the most. Comparing the 
 peasantry of France with that of England, I should say there is less of 
 
FRENCH MANNERS. 
 
 135 
 
 prompt and servile obedience, where you think you have a right to com- 
 mand, but greatly more attention and real politeness, where you have no 
 such claim. In those of a class a little superior, or at least who think 
 themselves so, the French have not the same advantage. In all classes 
 there seems to be much more freedom of remark than in England, and 
 sometimes such remarks as would put an Englishman out of humour. 
 In the little intercourses of life the Frenchman has the appearance of 
 being the most good humoured, if not the most polite. I get laughed at 
 for my pronunciation, and frequently perhaps by those who would them- 
 selves be ridiculed at Paris. One of the guests amused himself with 
 talking to me in bad French, just as you sometimes talk bad English to 
 children. Another of the party found fault with this, telling him that he 
 would be better understood by speaking correctly, but slowly, and dis- 
 tinctly, without saying parlier, entendier, and without using verbs instead 
 of substantives. " But," replied the former, " [ do not say parlier, en- 
 tendier, nor do I use verbs for substantives, I only make use of the partici- 
 ple instead of the infinitive, and I confound the genders, as this gentleman 
 does." I observed that these people in their conversation almost always 
 sounded the r of the infinitive mood. 
 
 I went to the theatre at Lyon ; here I first saw what I am told is com- 
 mon in the south of France, a pit without seats. The theatre is simple 
 and good, because without affectation, and where the artist goes straight 
 forward to his object, the result may not be admirable, but can never be 
 ridiculous. The acting was respectable, but my bile was excited by 
 some officers in the boxes, who insisted that every thing should be con- 
 ducted at their good pleasure ; and somewhat also by the people for sub- 
 mitting to their impertinence. They were furiously loyal, but it is im- 
 possible such men can be friends of a constitutional government. Li- 
 berty is out of the question, they are fit for nothing but to be the tools 
 of a military despotism. 
 
 I have already mentioned a crypt under the church dedicated to St. 
 Irene, which is said to be of Roman construction. At the same place I 
 was shown an opening, now boarded up, which leads to a space contain- 
 ing, if you believe the tradition of the place, the bones of 19,000 martyrs, 
 without reckoning women and children, who, as my conductress ob- 
 served, must have been at least as many more. There is also a well full 
 
136 
 
 PISE. 
 
 of relics, but I did not understand whether these were included in the 
 previous number, or an addition to it. 
 
 South of Lyon we may begin to observe the constructions in Pise, 
 which I suspect would not suit a climate so wet as ours ; the material 
 seems to be gravel and clay, formed into blocks in a sort of mould on 
 the work itself, and separated by pretty thick beds of mortar. In some 
 districts these blocks are pretty regular parallelopipeda, about six feet 
 long and three thick ; in others, they are very irregularly shaped, like 
 Cyclopaean masonry. 
 
137 
 
 LETTER X. 
 
 SOUTH OF FRANCE. 
 
 Nismes, 21th July, 1816. 
 
 I MET at Paris with a brother architect of the name of Sharp, who was 
 going to Rome by the South of France ; he left Paris a little after me, 
 and joined me at Lyon. On the 12th we got into the packet-boat, to 
 descend the Rhone ; it was loaded with goods and passengers going to 
 the fair at Beaucaire ; and such a steam rose from the only room below 
 deck, that I did not choose to venture into it ; although a thick drizzling 
 rain which obscured the prospect, and permitted us to see only tHe 
 ghosts of beautiful scenery, would have made the shelter very acceptable. 
 The packet-boat, or barge, is suffered nearly to drift down the stream, 
 but the boatmen are provided with oars, to direct, rather than to acce- 
 lerate the motion, as the rudder, though made very large, has of course 
 little power. Our voyage begins upon the Saone, but we entered the 
 Rhone a little below Lyon, and reached Vienne, a distance of nearly eigh- 
 teen miles, in two hours and a half. Here we left the boat, and although 
 the weather incommoded us all day, yet it was sufficiently fine at inter- 
 vals to shew us that we were in a beautiful country, and to permit us 
 to see some of the antiquities of the place. A magnificent quay extends 
 along the bank of the river, but the current of the Rhone is so strong, 
 that every thing connected with it must be of the most solid construc- 
 tion. One pier of a bridge is still standing; and a tower, which probably 
 defended the end of it, remains on the opposite shore : a rocky hill rises 
 behind the town, crowned by what appears the fragment of an old castle, 
 but this we did not visit. Vienne is the first town I have seen, where 
 the Roman antiquities remain in sufficient perfection to claim the study 
 of an architect. I ran into the first church which occurred in our ramble 
 through the city, (that of St. Andre le Bas) and found it a very curious old 
 building, with many fragments of Roman antiquity, particularly two shafts 
 of columns, and capitals upon them, but as the capitals had originally be- 
 longed to columns half as large again, the composition was not very happy. 
 It is an edifice of great antiquity, being simply a parallelogram, with a 
 
 T 
 
138 
 
 VIENNE. 
 
 semicircular niche at the end, which forms the choir; the vaulting is 
 pointed, but the openings are round-headed, except three little windows 
 in the choir. It was founded by Ancemond, Duke of Burgundy, and re- 
 stored by Conrad, King of Burgundy. The latter reigned from 1033 to 
 1037. A little further we stumbled on an ancient temple, a good deal 
 ruined. The spaces between the columns have been walled up, and the 
 walls of the cell removed, in order to convert the building, first into a 
 christian church, and afterwards into a court of justice. The edifice is not 
 in very good taste, nor very well executed ; yet the union of simplicity of 
 form with richness of decoration, produces a pleasing eifect under so 
 many disadvantages : and the coming thus by chance upon an object 
 with which one has so many associations, excited an emotion more 
 easily imagined than described. Just out of the town is a slender pyra- 
 mid on a square basement, perforated in each direction by an arched 
 opening, and with a column at each angle. It is called by the vulgar 
 the tomb of Pontius Pilate, who, according to them, put an end to his 
 own life at this place. Its real date and destination are very uncertain. 
 It is undoubtedly Roman, and probably a sepulchral monument, but 
 there is no inscription. It stands in the middle of a corn-field, and 
 cannot boast much beauty either in itself or in its situation. The finest 
 relic, in point of taste and execution, is what is called the Arch of 
 Triumph. Enough remains to shew with certainty, that it does not 
 merit this appellation, but not sufficient to enable me to determine what 
 it has been : some heads of satyrs have given rise to a conjecture that it 
 formed part of a theatre. 
 
 Numerous fragments of Roman ornaments and inscriptions are scat- 
 tered about Vienne. Some of the most interesting antiquities, discovered 
 in and about the city, have been collected, and placed in an old church, 
 where they form a museum; there are amongst them a few beautiful 
 fragments of sculpture ; and many mosaics, some of which may be con- 
 sidered as very fine ones, but a considerable portion of the objects appears 
 to belong to the decadence. Besides these monuments of Roman times, 
 Vienne boasts a very fine cathedral. The front rises from an elevated 
 platform, or parvis, about twelve feet above the street, the ascent to 
 which is by a magnificent flight of steps. This platform terminates at 
 each end against private houses; the front is defended by a Gothic 
 balustrade, which returns down the steps. The facade has never been 
 
CATHEDRAL AT VIENNE, 
 
 139 
 
 completed, and perhaps in its present state the form is too square, yet 
 it is truly a magnificent object, and has proved to me not only the 
 possibility, but the great advantage of thus elevating a Gothic church. 
 It is generally very difficult, when one contemplates a noble building, to 
 determine precisely from what particulars our pleasure is derived, and 
 to judge what might be omitted without injury, or what added with 
 advantage. On considering the religious edifices of our own country, 
 we observe that they are almost all, either on a level with the ground, 
 or somewhat below it ; and I had consequently began to doubt whether 
 part of their beauty might not be owing to this circumstance. In 
 France such a peculiarity is not observable, for we find here that the 
 cathedrals are, with hardly any exception, placed on a platform more or 
 less elevated. This at Vienne is the highest I have seen, and from that 
 very circumstance, it is the finest, and the one which most contributes 
 to the dignity of the building. The whole of this part, and the western 
 front itself, together with the four first arches of the nave, were added 
 by Pierre Palmier in 1527, and present nothing very remarkable in the 
 style of architecture, unless perhaps, that in some cases there is an 
 appearance of the artist having endeavoured to imitate the character of 
 the ancient work. 
 
 On entering, the building seems at first glance to present a consider- 
 able uniformity of style ; but a closer examination betrays very important 
 differences. As to its whole effect, the want of coloured glass is a 
 deficiency hardly to be forgiven ; and it seemed to me, who have been 
 lately so much accustomed to the very lofty churches of the north of 
 France, rather too low in proportion to its extent, but in this my com- 
 panion did not agree with me. We estimated its height at between 
 eighty and ninety feet ; and certainly if it had but painted glass, it 
 would not be disgraced in a comparison with the proudest Gothic 
 churches in Europe, but in its present state, it is less impressive than 
 that at Lyon. The first four arches are of the same date and style as 
 the front, but beyond these are seven other arches on each side, which 
 form the most curious part of the building. From the pavement to the 
 under side of the gallery, the architecture is of a manner which I have 
 not seen before, and one might imagine it for a moment to be formed at 
 the restoration of the Italian architecture, but it is only for a moment : 
 the mouldings, the ornaments, and above all, the capitals, clearly attest 
 
 T 2 
 
140 
 
 CATHEDRAL AT VIENNE. 
 
 the antiquity of the work. Driven from that supposition, the observer is 
 almost led to attribute it to the decline of Roman architecture, (I wish 
 we had good words corresponding with the French decadence and renais- 
 sance^ for it approaches even more nearly than the Saxon style, to the 
 productions of the ancients ; nevertheless the arches are pointed, and if 
 we imagine this to have been in consequence of some restorations, or 
 repairs, which may possibly have been the case, since the points are very 
 obtuse, and there is a central key-stone ; yet the general disposition is too 
 much like that of a Gothic church, to allow us to push so far back the era 
 of its construction. The arches of the side aisles in this part have no mould- 
 ings on the groins, the lower windows are rose-headed, and probably of 
 the thirteenth century ; those of the clerestory are by threes, and without 
 tracery, they may therefore be attributed to the twelfth ; but in both 
 parts some of a later style have been introduced. There is no transept, 
 but there are four steps at the eighth pier from the entrance, and three 
 more at the eleventh. The latter mark the present choir, the straight 
 part of which, consisting of two arches only, is of the earliest French 
 pointed style, while the chevet is polygonal, and has a quatrefoil in the 
 window heads. Externally the flanks of the side aisles are finished with 
 a gallery of small arches, upon little columns, some of which are semi- 
 circular, and others pointed, and above these rise Gothic pinnacles. 
 Some fragments of more ancient work have been built up in the walls, 
 and in the oldest part there are also monumental tablets as early as 1200, 
 which seem to be posterior to the erection of the wall. Reasoning from 
 appearance, I should consider it as a building begun in the eleventh, and 
 continued through the whole of the twelfth century, but the history 
 of the cathedral mentions no considerable works in that period. It is 
 said to have been begun by St. Esalde, archbishop in 718. The works 
 were afterwards suspended till the time of another archbishop, St. Theo- 
 bald, who completed the choir in 952. It seems certain that something 
 was erected by him at that time, and equally certain that it was not the 
 present choir. Yet the foundation may have been of that date, and 
 semicircular, though the work above is slightly polygonal, and the want 
 of a transept to so considerable a building creates a suspicion that the 
 plan is of great antiquity. After this period I have found no accounts 
 of anv important works till those already mentioned, in 1527. 
 
 Besides the cathedral, there is at Vienne a very curious Saxon church. 
 
VOYAGE DOWN THE RHONE. 
 
 141 
 
 dedicated to St. Michel ;* it has a stone ornament, running along the 
 ridge of the roof, which seems not to be uncommon in these parts ; the 
 ornamental arches of the tower include nearly two-thirds of a circle ; a 
 circumstance which unites it with the Moresque architecture. The inte- 
 rior of the church is not beautiful, but a little cloister is very pretty, 
 composed of arches, resting on little coupled columns.f 
 
 The churches of the villages down the Rhone are almost all of that 
 style which we call in England, Saxon or Norman, very ancient and very 
 rude. One at Bourg St. Andiole has an octagonal central tower, with 
 semicircular arches, and is crowned with a spire of rather low proportions, 
 rising immediately from the sides of the octagon, without cornice, or 
 balustrade, or any thing to mark the line of separation."}; 
 
 I have been so used in France to hear the pieces of twenty francs called 
 louis, that I thought of nothing else when I made the agreement with a 
 boatman at Vienne, to take us to Pont St. Esprit, full one hundred miles, 
 for three louis; he used his oars very little, just enough to preserve a 
 direction to the boat. When we were about to pay our waterman, he 
 demanded seventy-two francs, instead of sixty ; as we could not settle 
 the matter, we all went to a magistrate, who acknowledged the ambiguity 
 of the term, and decided that we should pay sixty-six francs, as a mean 
 between the two methods of understanding the bargain. I do not know 
 whether the man had any intention of cheating us. He had assured us 
 on setting out that he must sell his boat at Pont St, Esprit to great dis- 
 advantage, since from the rapidity of the stream, it was impossible to 
 bring it up the Rhone, and yet we found the boat on entering quite an 
 old one. This had excited some suspicion of his honesty, because, if they 
 could not be moved against the stream, we did not understand how they 
 were to wear out at Vienne : but perhaps in this we were unjust. These 
 boats cannot last long, as they are very slightly and poorly made, and the 
 man only estimated the value at thirty-six francs. 
 
 The voyage down the Rhone is delightful ; and I doubt if all the 
 boasted beauties of the Rhine deserve to be compared with it. The 
 
 * My notes were not clear, and I am afraid 1 have made some confusion between this 
 church and St. Andre le Bas, above-mentione^l. 
 
 -{■ The cloisters of St. John Lateran, and of St. Vau\ fuori delle mura at Rome, are of a cha- 
 racter very similar to this. They are said to be of the twelfth century, but I know not on 
 what authority. 
 
 I The domes of the little churches in Greece rise in this manner from an octagonal tower. 
 
142 
 
 VOYAGE DOWN THE RHONE. 
 
 scene is continually varying, but always beautiful ; the river sometimes 
 runs between lofty banks, always steep, generally rocky, sometimes pre- 
 cipitous. The hills are ornamented with villages, and with ruined castles 
 without number, occupying the most picturesque situations ; some are 
 covered with sloping vineyards ; in others little terraces are made for the 
 vines among the rocks ; some are crowned with forests, and everywhere 
 the mixture of scattered trees and bushes gives richness to the landscape. 
 In some places the bank of hill recedes from the river, or diminishes in 
 height ; at others it is entirely lost, and the eye wanders to more distant 
 hills, to rugged mountains, or to the snow-covered summits of the Alps. 
 Sometimes one of these styles of landscape is presented on one side, 
 and another on the opposite shore ; at others all appear to be united ; 
 add to which, the Rhone itself is a noble river, from a quarter to half 
 a mile wide, rushing impetuously along, and giving life and spirit to the 
 scene. 
 
 The rapidity of the current has given rise to a method of crossing 
 which we do not see in England : a rope is stretched across the river, 
 generally at the narrowest parts, and the ferry-boat is attached to this 
 rope by a pulley, which passes along with it; and thus, when merely 
 committed to the stream, with a little help from the rudder, which is 
 made very large, the boat is impelled to the opposite shore. The rope is 
 elevated sufficiently for boats descending the river to pass underneath it, 
 either by attaching it to a rock, or to a piece of rough masonry erected 
 for that purpose. The rapid current of the Rhone is continually shifting 
 the gravelly bottom on which it runs, and this produces a continual noise, 
 like the frying of fish, but louder. 
 
 We slept at Ancone, a little village on the banks of the river. I counted 
 twenty beds at the inn, and every thing about them seemed very clean ; 
 indeed the sheets in France are always clean, and I never had occasion to 
 doubt whether they had not been already used, which has sometimes been 
 the case in England. 
 
 Although the exertion of the rower is trifling, the progress made by the 
 help of the current is very considerable. We were little more than ten 
 hours from Vienne to Ancone, a distance of seventy-six miles ; from 
 Ancone to Pont St. Esprit, six leagues of the country, or about twenty- 
 four miles, very little more than three ; so that we travelled nearly seven 
 miles and a half per hour. Allowing two for the effect of the oars, we 
 
PONT ST. ESPRIT. 
 
 143 
 
 shall have five and a half for the rapidity of the stream, which is about 
 the same as from Lyon to Vienne. The course of the Rhone from the 
 Lake of Geneva to the sea, measured along all its windings, is nearly three 
 hundred miles, according to the best maps, and the elevation of that lake 
 is 1,200 feet above the Mediterranean Sea. This would give an average 
 descent of four feet per mile. The descent from Geneva to Lyon is 
 probably much greater than this, especially as it includes the loss of the 
 Rhone, and a considerable space, where the river runs with great velocity 
 in a deep bed, and the channel is but a few yards wide ; and although, 
 on the other hand, it is probable, that the descent from Beaucaire to the 
 sea is trifling, since there the valley opens, and a wide spread of alluvial 
 soil begins, yet perhaps we cannot calculate the descent of the Rhone 
 from Lyon to Avignon at more than three feet per English mile, or one 
 foot in 1,760. 
 
 At Pont St. Esprit we find the first bridge over the Rhone, in descend- 
 ing from Lyon. It was begun on the 4th of September, 1265, and 
 finished in February, 1309 : the water-way is contracted to about 1,800 
 feet, passing through nineteen large arches, and seven small ones, with 
 great rapidity. As well as I could judge by the eye, the water is about 
 fifteen inches higher, above, than below the bridge. The edifice is very well 
 built, with semicircular arches, but it is very narrow, and in order to 
 oppose more resistance to the action of floods, is not built in a straight 
 line. In walking upon it we perceived how much we lost in this part of 
 the Rhone, where the banks are comparatively low, by the depressed 
 position of the eye in a boat ; a rich and fertile plain shaded by mulberry 
 trees, appeared between us and the hills, of which we had seen nothing 
 from the water. 
 
 There are some whimsical particularities in the churches at Pont St. 
 Esprit ; but perhaps depending rather on the fancy of the architect than 
 on the style of the time, and therefore not very interesting. The date is 
 probably the fifteenth century. In one of these is a vault, said to have the 
 property of preserving the human body, but like so many other things, 
 most of the objects thus preserved were destroyed in the fury of the 
 revolution, when the French populace gave full play to the desire to 
 injure and destroy, which seems so natural in an ignorant multitude. 
 One, the body of a female, was, as I was informed, still entire, and I went 
 to see it ; arms, legs, and mutilated trunks, were pulled out from a hole. 
 
144 
 
 ARCH AT ORANGE. 
 
 one after another, to gratify my curiosity, and at last the desired object. 
 It was exceedingly light, of a dingy buff colour, somewhat shrivelled, but 
 in other respects very perfect. 
 
 We engaged a voiture from Pont St. Esprit to Orange, and travelled 
 the whole way in a mizzling rain, which continued all the evening and 
 the next morning. My companion finds the climate of the south of 
 France much like that of Ireland, and I cannot contradict him ; but I 
 suppose that such summers are very rare. 
 
 Orange is a little city of about 8,000 inhabitants, but it is said to 
 have had 15,000 under the government of its own princes. It was 
 added in 1713, by the treaty of Utrecht, to the crown of France. The 
 situation is at the foot of an insulated hill, round which a fine plain 
 extends to a considerable distance ; beyond are hills, mountains, rocks, 
 and valleys, all of which are seen to great advantage from the summit 
 of this eminence. The inns are in the suburbs, the high road passing on 
 the outside of the town ; and this is absolutely necessary, as the widest 
 part of the widest street does not exceed twelve or thirteen feet, and few 
 are more than nine or ten. Here we first saw an order which we have 
 since met with in several other places, that no carts are permitted to 
 enter the city. The inhabitants tell us, that the situation of the town 
 is cold, and subject to violent blasts of wind from the Alps ; but we ob- 
 served pomegranates in full bloom in the hedges. The general aspect of 
 the vegetation is very different from that of England and the north of 
 France. 
 
 There are few places, even in Italy, which can vie with this part of 
 France, in the number and beauty of Roman antiquities. At Orange, our 
 first object was the celebrated Arch of Triumph, one of the most interest- 
 ing in existence for the beauty of its proportions, as well as for the sin- 
 gularity of its disposition, which differs widely from those remaining at 
 Rome ; but it has never been even tolerably well published. There are 
 holes in the architrave on the north side, by means of which the metal 
 letters have been fixed, but the inscription itself is wanting, and the mo- 
 nument has baffled all attempts of the French antiquaries to determine its 
 date, or the object of its erection. At Orange it is attributed to Marius, 
 or rather to Domitius Ahenobarbus, under whom they suppose Marius to 
 have served a campaign in Gaul : but the chief evidence of this is the 
 name ' Mario,' sculptured on one of the shields among the trophies. 
 
ARCH AT ORANGE. 
 
 There are many other names, similarly placed, which seem to be in the 
 nominative case, as Udillus, Sacrovir, and it therefore seems probable, 
 that those, whose case is not determined by the termination, should be in 
 the nominative also, as Beve, Ratui, Varene, and this Mario, which has 
 given rise to the opinion of the occasion of the building. The letters 
 S, R. E. occur in several places. We have no good reason to believe 
 that stone triumphal arches were in use before the time of the emperors, 
 and the profusion of ornament on the mouldings announces a style of 
 art posterior to the Augustan age. Another hypothesis gives it to Marius 
 and Catulus, on their defeat of the Cimbri, somewhere in this neighbour- 
 hood ; a third to Julius Caesar, on his conquest of Marseille. The 
 Baron de Bastie contends that it is of the time of Augustus ; and Maffei, 
 that it was constructed in the reign of Hadrian. The result is, that we 
 know nothing at all about it. 
 
 In the Corinthian capitals, as executed by the Romans, the angles of 
 the abacus are always cut off. Among the Greeks the acute point was, 
 sometimes at least, preserved. The capitals of this arch are too much 
 damaged to admit of absolute certainty, but I am pretty confident that 
 the Greek manner was adopted. Again, the Attic base, among the Ro- 
 mans, has a deep scotia, and the fillet above it is nearly under the fillet of 
 the apophysis ; the Greeks used a wide and shallow scotia, and made the 
 projection of the fillet nearly as great as that of the torus above. 
 
 The bases here are decidedly Greek, and the foliage of the capitals is also 
 somewhat Greek in character. These circumstances have not before been 
 noticed, and indeed it is only lately that we have become sufficiently ac- 
 quainted with the remains of architecture in Greece, to be aware of the 
 differences which distinguished the two styles ; the finding them here is 
 curious, and seems to point out some connexion between the building 
 and the Greek colony of Marseille. The composition of this edifice is 
 very good, and the architect has contrived to give it something of a 
 
 u 
 
14G 
 
 THEATRE AT ORANGE. 
 
 pyramidal form, which suits admirably with its character, as a monumental 
 building. The French architects complain of it as top-heavy, and compared 
 with the Roman triumphal arches, the opening is small in proportion to 
 the whole edifice ; but the character is different. In the Roman, the arch 
 itself is the principal object, and the architecture and sculpture merely 
 adorn a chosen point in the course of a triumphal procession. Here it is 
 a fine pyramidal mass, erected to commemorate some important event, in 
 which the openings must be such as not to destroy the apparent firmness 
 and solidity. Nothing could be taken away without injuring the effect, 
 and if any thing could be added, it could only be some additional sculp- 
 ture at the top, which probably once existed. The mouldings are over- 
 loaded with ornaments, and the corona is small and channelled, as if to in- 
 dicate dentils ; an abuse which I should not have supposed to exist prior 
 to the time of Hadrian. The best external evidence we have, would 
 perhaps, assign this arch, and two others at Carpentras and Cavaillon, to 
 Domitius Ahenobarbus ; but the proofs are very slight, and the internal 
 evidence is strongly against so early a period. 
 
 This building was converted into a fortress in the thirteenth century, 
 by Raymond de Baux, Prince of Orange, and he appears to have damaged 
 it considerably, but he probably preserved it from total destruction. At 
 present it is quite out of the town, and perfectly insulated. 
 
 Besides the arch, here is a large theatre, of which the scene wall, now 
 standing, is about 300 feet long, and 100 feet high ; or, more exactly, ac- 
 cording to M. de Gasparin, ' Histoire de la ville d Orange,' 336 feet in 
 length, and 114 in height; the seats were in the slope of a hill, as in the 
 Greek theatres. Nothing is known as to its date, and the workmanship 
 is rude and gives no help ; the lower part is occupied with shops, and 
 part of the ruin is the town prison, but the building well deserves an ac- 
 curate examination. The outside presents a range of arches, now mostly 
 occupied by little shops, and ornamented with a sort of Doric pilaster and 
 an entablature. Over this is a plain face of wall with holes in it, and 
 some projecting stones, which suggest the idea of an advancing roof and 
 colonnade in front of the present arches. Higher up is another range of 
 arches, low and without pilasters : nevertheless a small capital is shown 
 over each pier, and there is a second continued entablature about the same 
 size as that below. In the wall above these, we have, first a row of blocks 
 to receive the base of the posts of the velum, then a very simple cornice, of 
 
Jl.I?SID']E EiETATIOK 
 
 THE ATRE AT O RAlt^fG-E . 
 
 ■sicd try J^^! Arch. CornlitlMarci.XfjSi' . 
 
JOURNEY TO BEAUCAIRE. 
 
 147 
 
 considerable projection, in which there are no perforations over the three 
 blocks nearest to the angles of the building ; over the six following blocks 
 this cornice is perforated, but in the remainder there are no holes till we 
 arrive at the same distance from the opposite end ; higher up is a second 
 range of blocks, all of which are perforated. The upper cornice has no 
 perforations or channels, and it is probable that the posts escaped it by a 
 slight inclination outwards, as it has but a small projection. 
 
 The inside has been ornamented with columns and entablatures of white 
 marble, of which very few vestiges remain. The whole back wall of the 
 stage is clearly shown. It has one large doorway, corresponding with 
 the central opening on the outside, and a very small one on each side of the 
 larger, and no other opening ; but there are two very whimsical recesses, of 
 which the drawing will give you a better idea than any description ; above, 
 is a large niche in the centre, and on the sides, and on the return are re- 
 cesses, supposed to have received mosaics, but I think, without sufficient 
 reason. These return walls have no openings at any height. There are, 
 in the back wall, some grooves issuing immediately above the second cor- 
 nice, and below there are irregular recesses, which one may suppose 
 made to receive beams, either of wood or stone, and it has thence been 
 concluded that there was a roof over the stage. It is however, difficult 
 to imagine a roof extending above 200 feet, and having a projection of 
 38 feet without any supports in front. The Sedili are very much injured, 
 and greatly incumbered with houses, which were to have been removed 
 had the reign of Napoleon continued. 
 
 They pretend at Orange to show the remains of a circus, and to point 
 out the site of an amphitheatre, but the vestiges are somewhat obscure. 
 The inhabitants must have been much devoted to amusements. No 
 remains of any temple are visible, and hardly any fragments are scattered 
 about, which could have belonged to other public buildings. We find, 
 indeed, two or three pieces of mosaic pavement, but much inferior in 
 number, size, and beauty, to those at Vienne. 
 
 I shall leave my Gothic till another opportunity, when I hope to be 
 able to give you some idea of a very peculiar style of early architecture 
 which prevailed in this country. After the rainy weather at Orange we had 
 some very fine days. The wet gave me cold, and during the fine weather 
 I made myself ill by exposing myself too much to the sun, while making 
 my notes upon the theatre. By way of relaxation, I determined to go 
 
 u 2 
 
148 
 
 BEAUCAIRE. 
 
 and see the great fair at Beaucaire, but on examining some voitures, 
 which were proceeding in that direction, I found them so small that I 
 could not sit upright. What a misfortune to be tall in a country where 
 every body else is short! My head was too dizzy to write or draw, 
 I therefore walked to Avignon, and found the heat much less oppressive 
 when using moderate exercise, than when standing still. The road is 
 shaded in some parts, but others are quite exposed to the sun. The near 
 landscape consists of gentle hills, with meadows and cornlands, mixed with 
 mulberry trees and vineyards, and, in the latter part of the way, with 
 olive grounds. There is, generally, plenty of water, and one or two 
 beautiful clear streams descend from the mountains, to join a little river 
 which enters the Rhone above Avignon. The mulberry is of the white 
 sort ; the fruit small, sweet, and mawkish ; something in taste like the 
 yew-berry, but without its viscidity. In the back-ground, on the left, are 
 rugged mountains, and one very high one (Mont Ventou), on the top of 
 which was a little patch of snow. Avignon makes a fine appearance 
 at a distance, exhibiting a great extent of walls and towers, but intending 
 to return thither and survey it more at leisure, I hastened forward to the • 
 fair. I was told that the packet-boat would set off for Beaucaire between 
 five and six in the morning. An old fellow came to call me at twenty 
 minutes before five, but though I was on the quay by five, the barge was 
 gone ; I hired a little boat and followed. The Rhone is still beautiful, 
 though a wider valley and lower hills render the scenery less striking than 
 it is higher up. The language here is considerably different from the 
 French, and is designated by the word patois, which seems a general term 
 for all provincial dialects differing considerably from the language of the 
 capital. My boatman told me that the canaille (query, who or where is 
 this canaille) had killed his phro, his mhra, and his frero, meaning all the 
 while to speak French, and not his own provincial tongue. In the verbs 
 they usually pronounce all the letters, and mostly omit the pronouns ; 
 * avez du mao T said a little girl to me, when I accidentally had a handker- 
 chief round my hand : and Beaucaire is with them a word of three sylla- 
 bles, all the vowels of the latter part of the word being distinctly pro- 
 nounced. Even at Lyon, the e mute is often heard as a syllable, and they 
 assure me here that the Parisians speak very bad French, and are hardly 
 intelligible any where but in Paris. 
 
 Beaucaire is a small town seated at the foot of a rock, which is crowned 
 
* 
 
 BEAUCAIRE. 149 
 
 by the ruins of an old castle. This is a very picturesque object, both in 
 itself and in its situation. A small plain, shaded with avenues of trees, 
 extends from the town and the rock to the Rhone. The streets seem to 
 contain nothing but shops and warehouses, except a few inns and coffee- 
 houses. Cloths were extended over them to keep out the sun, and as 
 they are very narrow, not much wider than those of Orange, this object is 
 easily accomplished. Square pieces of cloth, with the names and occupa- 
 tions of the traders, are hung upon ropes extended across the streets, but 
 so close together, that in some parts, it is difficult to read any of them. 
 The plain, from the foot of the castle rock to the Rhone, was filled with 
 booths of all sorts and sizes. In one of these I found one of my old tra- 
 velling companions from Dijon to Lyon, and his shop was so much 
 cooler than my room in the town, under the covering of the streets, that 
 I usually made it my resting place. The bad weather has injured the 
 vines, and this has been extremely unfavourable to the fair, as the people 
 of the country have no means of making purchases. Towards evening 
 the amusements commence, and one of the earliest, which was an amuse- 
 ment to me, though a trade to him, was the exhibition of a quack named 
 Charini. He assured us that he did not exercise his profession from any 
 desire of obtaining money, for he had a clear rental of 25,000 livres, which 
 put him quite above any wish of that sort, but for the love he bore to the 
 good people of France, and the hope of future renown. He makes no profit 
 of his medicines, but merely seeks to repay his expenses ; a request, not 
 only reasonable, but absolutely necessary ; for he had already distributed in 
 the course of this year, sixty thousand bottles at Montpellier, and ninety 
 thousand at Marseille, each of which cost him thirty sous, and it would con- 
 sume the fortune of a prince to support such an extended scale of benefi- 
 cence. He rode about in a sort of sociable, drawn by four horses, with his pre- 
 parations disposed before him, and was attended by eight musicians on horse- 
 back, a degree of style which I think you can hardly boast of in England. 
 
 This fair is esteemed one of the three greatest on the Mediterranean, 
 and perhaps, the chief of the three, but in the present year it has fallen 
 short. It is said to have been established by Raymond VI., count of 
 Toulouse, but the most ancient act, still existing, is of Louis XI. in 
 1463. The master of the first bark which arrives, salutes the town of 
 Beaucaire with a musket or pistol, and receives a sheep, oflered with 
 much solemnity, as a premium for his expedition. 
 
150 
 
 NISMES. 
 
 The castle at Beaucaire was destroyed in 1632, but I cannot tell you 
 when it was built. Raymond V., Count of Thoulouse, held here a splen- 
 did court in 1172, rendered remarkable by the whimsical contest of ex- 
 travagance and profusion maintained there. Raymond himself set the 
 example by giving 100,000 sous to Raymond d'Agoust, who immediately 
 distributed them among ten thousand knights, then present at the court. 
 Bertrand Rambault ploughed the court, and neighbourhood of the castle, 
 with twelve pair of oxen, and sowed 100,000 sous in the furrows. Guil- 
 laume Grosmantel had the food for his own table, and for three hundred 
 knights' followers, dressed by the flame of wax candles. Raymond de 
 Venou, adding brutality to extravagance, burnt thirty of his most beau- 
 tiful horses. The struggle of ostentation was clumsily maintained, and 
 the parvenus of modern times cannot be reproached with any absurdities 
 which M'ill bear a comparison with these. 
 
 A bridge of boats across the Rhone connects the little town of Tarras- 
 con with the opposite one of Beaucaire, and two sous are paid for cross- 
 ing it ; when I reached the other end, it was with the greatest difficulty 
 that I could get permission to go on shore to see the church, as a special 
 pass was necessary on visiting, or returning from the fair. The church 
 at Tarrascon offers some curious parts, but is by no means beautiful : the 
 entrance is by a large, semicircularly headed^ arch, with abundance of 
 mouldings, a few of which have Norman ornaments ; and one is enriched 
 with an inverted ovolo : above the entrance is a range of alternate columns 
 and pilasters supporting an architrave. There are also some remains of a 
 castle, where in 1449 a tournament was held by Louis III. almost as sin- 
 gular as the former court at Beaucaire. 
 
 The following English card, stuck up in the salle-a-manger at Orange, 
 had directed us to the 'hotel of Luxembourg, in the Esplanade,' at 
 Nisme s: 
 
 " Mr. David Londes acquaints the gentlemen travels that he has 
 remplaced Mrs. Londes widow, his sister-in-law, in the said hotel. He 
 has the honour to acquaint the gentlemen travelling, that they might find 
 chambers elegantly fitted, and that nothing has been omitted for the com- 
 fort of travellers. The hotel being moreover placed in the finest situation 
 in the town. The chambers are newly suited, the stables and the coach- 
 house are vast and commodious. 
 
 " Mr. David Londes entertains the hope, that he will fill entirely the 
 
TEMPLE OF DIANA. 
 
 151 
 
 desires of the gentlemen travellers, and that he will augment the renown 
 which this hotel has always enjoyed. It is proach bath houses and flying 
 coach office. The travellers will find there a magazine of silk stockings, 
 and all sorts of cloths." Do you think the French advertisements we 
 sometimes meet with in England appear as ridiculous to a Frenchman ? 
 After indulging a laugh at the notice, we went to the inn, and were very 
 well contented. The antiquities of Nismes are the most celebrated of all 
 those in the south of France, and of these, to an architect, the Maison 
 Carree is the most interesting. It is a temple, with six columns in front, 
 and eleven on the sides, which is according to the rules of Vitruvius, but 
 the side spaces are walled up. Technically speaking then, it is a hexa- 
 style pseudoperipteral temple of the Corinthian order. It is in very good 
 preservation, and the spacing and proportions of the columns are singu- 
 larly pleasing. The bases are Greek Attic, but with some additional 
 mouldings, which diminish its beauty ; they are very incorrectly given in 
 Clerisseau's Antiquites de France. Nothing else is in the Greek taste, 
 and it is evident that no very minute attention has been given to attain a 
 perfect agreement of form and dimension in the corresponding parts. 
 The cornice is heavier, and more loaded with ornaments than that of the 
 arch at Orange, and I imagine the building to be posterior. The date of 
 the Maison Carree, is supposed to be determined by an inscription re- 
 stored by M. Seguier, by means of the remaining holes in the frieze. 
 C. Ccesari Augusti F. Cos. L. CcBsari Augusli F. Cos. designatis principibus 
 jiiventutis. It is therefore of the time of Augustus, and we must conse- 
 quently push back the date of the arch to an earlier period, from inter- 
 nal evidence. 
 
 Two projecting stones, moulded, and perforated with a square opening, 
 on the sides of the doorway, have been supposed to be intended to sup- 
 port an external temporary door ; but one does not understand the object 
 of such a door inclosing the inner one and all its ornaments ; and as no 
 similar instance can be produced, we must, I believe, be content to leave 
 their purpose unexplained. 
 
 The fragment by the fountain, usually called the temple of Diana, must 
 be of still later erection. The order is composite ; the earliest ascer- 
 tained example of which is, I believe, the arch of Titus, at Rome. A 
 number of fragments are collected in it, which mostly announce the pe- 
 riod of the decline of the art ; but there is one which is completely Greek, 
 
152 
 
 AMPHITHEATRE. 
 
 and which probably belonged to some more ancient edifice. The princi- 
 pal part of this ruin is what once was a large vaulted room, perhaps a 
 covered court ; but most of the vaulting has disappeared, and its present 
 beauty depends, not so much on its architecture, as on the beautiful 
 colour of the stone, on the morsels of antiquity collected there, and 
 which form a sort of museum, and on the dark green of the fig-trees 
 which hang loosely about the walls, and give an air of freshness and 
 coolness even in a hot summer's day. There are three recesses at the 
 farther end, and a dark covered passage on each side, of which I do not 
 comprehend the object, but I know no reason to suppose it to have been 
 a temple. 
 
 The situation of this ruin is very pleasant, in the midst of a public 
 garden, close by a copious spring of delightful water, which supplies the 
 town. This garden is the finest thing of the sort I have ever seen. The 
 columns and balustrades which adorn the fountain, and the basins made 
 for the reception of its waters, extend all through it, and there are abund- 
 ance of stone seats, vases, and statues. The character of art is no where 
 lost, but it is a beautiful character of art, and the more so, because all the 
 parts are consistent, and there is no appearance of pretence or affecta- 
 tion. Every thing is part of one design ; whereas, in England, where we 
 have such ornaments, they are too detached, and seem to have dropt 
 from the clouds, rather than to belong to the scene. Even at the Tuille- 
 ries the distribution is by no means sufficiently apparent, they want more 
 architecture to support them. The trees here are of a good size, and un- 
 cut, principally the linden. 
 
 Comfort is said to be a winter idea. On leaving the gardens I had a 
 good elucidation of what it means in a warm climate. A boy was seated 
 on the stone bank which confines the water in these basons, under the 
 shade of the thick trees, and smoking a cigar, while the stream was gush- 
 ing out over his feet : he seemed most perfectly contented with his situa- 
 tion. 
 
 The amphitheatre is a great building, completely cleared out, so that 
 it is seen to the utmost perfection, and the degree of ruin is such as 
 to disclose the internal structure, and yet to exhibit all the external forms. 
 The parts, as is generally the case in buildings of this sort, are but 
 rudely finished. It was built, according to Menard [Histoire des Anti- 
 quites de la ville de Nismes) by the liberalities of the Emperor Antoninus 
 Pius, consequently between the years 138 and 161. 
 
TOUR MAGNE. 
 
 153 
 
 One of the Roman gateways of the city is still standing, but it is not 
 an antiquity of much consequence. A ruin called the Tour Magne stands 
 on a hill just out of Nismes ; its destination is unknown, but it probably 
 was a magnificent sepulchre ; the base appears to have been a polygon, 
 perhaps an octagon,* but with unequal sides : the upper part was clearly 
 octagonal, but smaller, and ornamented with pilasters ; within, it is an ir- 
 regular oval. At present there is little to be seen but a towering mass of 
 rubble. I found the people at Nismes unwilling to speak about their late 
 sufferings, and still in a state of extreme apprehension. 
 
 * Menard says it had seven sides. 
 
 1st, 2nd, 3rd ... of 30 French feet. 
 
 4th 48. 
 
 5th 53. 
 
 6th 21. 
 
 7th 33. 
 
 The sides of the octagon above are each 17 French feet. 
 
 X 
 
154 
 
 LETTER XI. 
 
 SOUTH OF FRANCE. 
 
 Geneva, I8lh August, 1816. 
 We left Nismes on the afternoon of the twenty-eighth, for the Pont du 
 Gard. The latter part of the way has some picturesque points of view, 
 adorned by the ruins of old castles perched on rugged rocks ; but it is 
 deficient in wood, and in water ; though we passed tw o or three abundant 
 springs, and at each spring a village. We crossed the valley of the 
 Gardon, by means of a bridge built against the ancient aqueduct ; and 
 found close by it a very decent country inn, with civil and obliging peo- 
 ple, where we slept. 
 
 The Pont du Gard is a portion of a Roman aqueduct, formed to con- 
 vey the water of two springs in the neighbourhood of Uzes, to Nismes ; 
 it being imagined to be of a quality superior to any which could be found 
 at a smaller distance. Perhaps also their elevation, by means of which the 
 water could be distributed readily all over the town, contributed to the 
 preference given to them. It is a noble work, consisting of two ranges of 
 large arches, and a third of small ones over them ; the latter forming the 
 immediate support of the water-course ; the utmost length is 870 feet ; 
 the height, from the water of the little stream below, 156 feet. 
 
 After spending about four hours of the next morning at the aqueduct, 
 we set off for Beaucaire, passing below the convent of Montfrin, whose 
 ruins are of great extent, and occupy a fine situation. The fair was con- 
 cluded, the people were packing up their merchandise, and every thing 
 was in confusion. We descended the river to Aries, but a thick fog ob- 
 scured the prospect, which we had the less cause to regret, since in this 
 part, the Rhone passes through a flat alluvial country, and has little 
 beauty to boast of. Aries stands on a gentle eminence. It is surrounded 
 by walls and towers, which, though useless for defence, form sometimes 
 admirable features in the landscape. It is a dirty disagreeable place, con- 
 taining however, Roman antiquities of considerable importance ; but the 
 bad weather may perhaps have influenced my opinion of the city. Aries, 
 like many other French towns, lays claim to a very remote antiquity. 
 
ARLES. 
 
 155 
 
 being, according to Lalauziere, {Ahrege C hronologique de VHistoire 
 Aries), a capital city, and the seat of a royal court, in the year of 
 Rome 260, when the Phocaean colony founded Marseille. In order, 
 however, to conciliate the advocates for the antiquity of the latter city, 
 the author is willing to acknowledge a prior establishment of Marseille, 
 before that recorded in history, (b. c. 539,) by two Phocaean chiefs, differ- 
 ing from the others only in name ; which does not seem to be much, since 
 we know, that in topographical histories, heroes have the attributes of 
 pantonomism and ubiquity. These, however, arrived in France only 
 forty-six years before the others. I must confess, I think this a very 
 stingy allowance of Aries's antiquary, when he had many ages at his entire 
 disposal. Aries having been founded, according to the ' S^avant Anibert,' 
 seven hundred years before Rome. Leaving these dreams, Aries appears 
 to have been a city of considerable importance, when the Csesar Con- 
 stantius fixed his residence there in 292 ; and from this time to 312, or per- 
 haps to 324, when Constantine ultimately defeated Licinius, it was consi- 
 dered the capital of the western part of the Roman world ; and it is pro- 
 bably to this period that we are to refer its principal monuments. The 
 younger Constantine was born there in 315 ; and in 316 the first Con- 
 stantine celebrated there the decennial games with great magnificence. 
 Pownal says, that it is not to the great Constantine that Aries is indebted, 
 but to Constantine the Third, a usurper in the reign of Honorius, who was 
 proclaimed in Britain in 407, and defeated and put to death in 411. This 
 man indeed made Aries for a short period his capital, but his reign was 
 too short and turbulent for the production of extensive monuments of 
 architecture. The amphitheatre is a larger building than that of Nismes, 
 but so encumbered with houses within and without, that it is impossible 
 to obtain a good view of it, and we must collect the parts as we see them 
 here and there, to form an opinion of the whole. We found one open 
 space, where we could walk on the tops of eight or ten of the upper row 
 of vaults. It is said at present to contain within its circuit a thousand 
 houses, but I would not vouch for the truth of this estimate. Lalauziere 
 attributes it to Tiberius Nero, quaestor under Julius Caesar, forty-six 
 years before Christ. 
 
 The remains of a theatre, where a frieze ornamented with foliage is 
 found over an architrave enriched with triglyphs, announce a great de- 
 cline of art, and such as we can hardly suppose to have taken place before 
 
 X 2 
 
156 
 
 THEATRE. 
 
 Constantine. In the progress of the fine arts towards perfection, it seems 
 probable that the capital would take the lead. At least, in modern 
 Europe, the metropolis seem,s to afford the example to the provinces; 
 and in architecture, as in dress in the time of Steele and Addison, we 
 may sometimes find a fashion commencing in the country, when it has had 
 its day, and is already exploded in the city. Will this take place at all 
 times ? I do not mean in every particular instance, but may it be consi- 
 dered as a general rule, applicable to all periods ? I incline to the affir- 
 mative, and conclude, that the earliest corruptions, as well as the earliest 
 improvements, would take place in the chief towns : yet I suspect, that 
 even at Rome, we shall be unable to find a greater absurdity than this at 
 Aries, before the expiration of the third century. In the court of a con- 
 vent of Cordeliers, are two columns of variegated marble without flutes, 
 supposed also to belong to the theatre. They are of the Corinthian 
 order, and appear to stand in their original position. The abacus of the 
 capitals contains ovolos and dentils, as if it were a reduction of the 
 cornice ; yet the foliage seems to have been in good taste, and well 
 carved, but it is much injured ; these and the bases are of white marble, 
 and are supposed to have been taken from the temple of Diana, and 
 placed at the principal door of the Scene. We find a number of frag- 
 ments in the same spot, of similar material ; portions of shafts of columns 
 of four different sizes, and as many different cornices ; and morsels of 
 sculpture, which show themselves to have belonged to very fine statues. 
 In another place there are two capitals, and a piece of an entablature, 
 which, together with two granite shafts on a larger scale than the parts 
 they now support, are of a purer style : these are said to have belonged 
 to the ancient capitol, but a capitol was a fortress, and for its own 
 construction required no columns, and hardly admitted them. These 
 columns were perhaps, those of a temple within the capital, or are we to 
 suppose that the whole became a sacred inclosure, as at Athens, and was 
 ornamented with a propylseon. Whatever it was, the edifice is believed 
 to have been begun by the second Constantine in 339, and finished by his 
 brother Constantius about 353. The architecture contradicts the history, 
 unless we suppose it to have been composed of the spoils of more ancient 
 buildings ; which is the more probable, since these granite columns are 
 too large for their capitals. If it formed part of a tetrastyle front, about 
 one-third of the frieze and architrave remain, and these have holes in them. 
 
SARCOPHAGI. 
 
 157 
 
 which douhtless supported letters of metal, and from these holes, and on 
 that supposition, M. Seguier, who decyphered the holes at Nismes, has 
 restored the whole inscription ; a degree of supersagacity, which rather 
 weakens the credit of his former exploit. An obelisk, 47 feet high, 
 adorns the principal square of Aries, but it is not well mounted. The pe- 
 destal has a fulsome dedication to Louis the Fourteenth, and another, as 
 fulsome, to Napoleon ; but the latter was covered with a board, on which 
 was painted a third, to Louis the Eighteenth. The investigation of the 
 antiquities of Aries would be a fine subject for a skilful antiquary, but 
 the attention of the French is more directed to the accurate examination 
 of what is not in their own country, than to what is. Even the political 
 condition of Aries down to 1251, when the Republic submitted itself to 
 the counts of Provence, would form a curious subject. We feel an inte- 
 rest in the history of a free and independent state, where the mind and 
 character are able to display themselves ; but with the loss of liberty, the 
 events of a provincial city lose all attraction for a stranger ; and in all 
 these states, which were once free, but are now subject to arbitrary 
 power, it is extremely instructive to trace both the causes and conse- 
 quences of the loss of freedom. 
 
 Beside the buildings already mentioned, there are several Roman vaults, 
 the remains of baths ; but all the parts of these that are known, are occu- 
 pied as cellars, and make no appearance above ground. There are also in 
 the neighbourhood, the fragments of an aqueduct, which collected the 
 water of different springs in the principality of Baux, and conducted them 
 to Aries, but I did not visit them. 
 
 What strikes a stranger the most at Aries, is the immense number of 
 sarcophagi, of which the best are now collected in an bid church. The 
 sculpture shews that some are of Pagan, and some of Christian origin; 
 but all of the lower empire, and of poor workmanship. One of them ex- 
 hibits the fragment of a temple, vvhere the supports seem to have been 
 alternately columns and caryatides ; but it is much damaged, and I am 
 not quite sure that there were any columns. At the other end of the 
 same sarcophagus, is an ornament which resembles those in the por- 
 tal of Notre Dame at Dijon. On others, one might fancy it possible to 
 trace the origin, both of the pointed arch, and of what has been called the 
 trefoil ornament. One of them is ornamented with a range of Corinthian 
 columns, supporting alternately semicircular and triangular arches, if they 
 
158 
 
 SARCOPHAGI. 
 
 may be called so. I think, however, that we ought to consider both as 
 pediments, where the horizontal cornice has been omitted ; especially as 
 they are ornamented with dentils. Another has a little point hanging 
 down in the middle of the arch, thus : 
 
 ,/ 
 
 A little out of the town is the old Roman burying ground, {necropolis) 
 where there are still numbers of sarcophagi, and of their coverings, scat- 
 tered about, but without sculpture ; the former are uniformly parallelopi- 
 pedons, not smaller at the base than above. The latter are of the usual 
 form, like a hipped roof of very small elevation, with an eighth part of a 
 sphere at each angle, by way of finish ; but I observed one, with a quarter 
 of a sphere also at each side. Just beyond the necropolis, are the ruins 
 of the convent of Minims, which at one time seems to have contained a 
 large collection of these sarcophagi. The number must have been origi- 
 nally exceedingly great. Many have been carried away for domestic pur- 
 poses, to hold wine, oil, or water ; to serve for washing, or for the prepara- 
 tion of saltpetre.* Charles IX. and Catherine of Medici being at Aries, 
 gave several to the duke of Savoy, and to the Prince of Lorraine. The 
 French monarch and his mother attempted to carry eight columns of 
 porphyry, and many beautiful sarcophagi, to Paris ; but the boat foun- 
 dered at Pont St. Esprit, and these spoils remain yet concealed in the 
 Rhone. Cardinal Barberini obtained permission of the town of Aries, and 
 transported many of the most beautiful into Italy. In 1635, the Marquis 
 St. Chaumont received thirteen, as a present from the municipality ; three 
 others were given in 1640 to Alphonso du Plessis, cardinal Archbishop of 
 Lyon. Various other princes and nobles have carried away sarcophagi 
 from Aries ; and as, where it was in their power, they doubtless selected 
 the best, one may be justly surprised at the number, and interest of those 
 that remain. 
 
 The church of this convent is evidently very ancient. It is attributed to 
 St. Virgil, Archbishop of Aries, in the seventh century, and it has been 
 ruined in the most picturesque manner. 
 
 * Millin. 
 
MO_Ml[JMEI??'T AT ST iBiEMi.. 
 /.ondrnJUi^ied J<t-^. ^rcl. Cot- 
 
ST. REMI. 
 
 159 
 
 At some distance is another convent, of which the ruins appear yet 
 more considerable ; and both for form and situation, are of great value in 
 the landscape. 
 
 Aries is in an unwholesome situation. It rained almost all the time we 
 were there, with a suffocating south wind ; I do not know whether it was 
 owing to this, or to the bad cookery at the Lion d'Or, (the Hotel du Nord 
 was full) that my health suffered, and I became very impatient to get 
 away. This was attended with some difficulty, as there is no post road 
 to the place. The soil is clayey, and the ways are almost impassable in 
 wet weather ; it is true there are rocky limestone hills at a little distance, 
 but nobody thinks of mending the road with these materials. At last we 
 procured a cart, and placing a mattress in it, proceeded at a foot pace 
 to Tarrascon, and thence to St. Remi, where a fine air and wholesome 
 food soon restored me. We do not find our hosts very complaisant or 
 obliging in this part of France ; they give us what they please, when they 
 please, and how they please ; and if you don't like it, you may let it alone. 
 However, since we cannot bend them to our ways, we endeavour to 
 accommodate ourselves to theirs, and do not experience any essential in- 
 convenience. 
 
 The monuments of St. Remi are about a mile from the modern town. 
 They occupy a delightful situation at the foot of some fine limestone 
 rocks of the principality of Baux, and the ground slopes from them into a 
 fertile plain, which the eye entirely commands. They consist of two dis- 
 tinct objects, entirely unencumbered by any neighbouring building, and 
 with a few trees about them which afford some degree of shade. The first 
 is an arch, supposed to be of the same date with that of Orange, and ac- 
 cording to some French antiquaries, erected on the same occasion ; but 
 there is no other authority for this than a supposed similarity in the ar- 
 chitecture. All the upper part is gone, and we have neither capitals nor 
 entablature. There has been but a single arch, and that remains nearly 
 entire, with the lower part of two columns on each side, and their bases 
 and pedestals. The bases are of the Roman, not of the Greek, Attic ; and 
 though in other respects there is some similarity to the arch at Orange, 
 yet it is hardly enough to prove that they were productions of the same 
 period. The archivolt in both is in one face, entirely filled with a sculpture 
 of leaves and fruit ; two gigantic figures occupy the space between the 
 
160 
 
 VAUCLUSE. 
 
 columns on each side, and there are slight indications of a victory on each 
 spandril. These are all the figures that remain. 
 
 At the distance of a few paces is a monument with this inscription, 
 SEXLMivLiEiCFPAREKTiBvssvEis ; but thesc namcs do not help us to the 
 date. The style of architecture, I should think posterior to that of the 
 arches, Millin thinks it later than the Antonines. It is composed of 
 a square plinth elevated on two steps, which supports a pedestal filled 
 with sculpture, representing equestrian combats ; upon this rises a 
 square edifice, with a three-quarter column at each angle, or perhaps 
 rather more than three-fourths of the column are exposed. The ar- 
 chitrave has hardly any projection before the face of the work, so that the 
 columns stand out beyond it for half their diameter, and do not appear to 
 contribute materially to its support. This peculiarity was perhaps the 
 result of judgment, (good or bad) and not of ignorance or carelessness, as 
 it certainly preserves the pyramidal shape of the monument, and the ge- 
 neral form of the whole is very fine, though thus singularly obtained. 
 Above this division of the edifice is a circular temple of six columns, with 
 a conical, or perhaps rather funnel-shaped roof, and in it are two statues? 
 one male and the other female, the parents to whom the monument was 
 erected. 
 
 We were fortunate enough to meet with a cabriolet de poste at St. 
 Remi, and found cause enough to congratulate ourselves, that our carriage 
 was ' suspetidu.' Places are sometimes found on our sea-shores, where a bed 
 of large rounded stones is fixed with some degree of firmness in the sand. 
 This was precisely the state of the first part of our road. After having 
 passed the long bridge of the Durance, a vast destructive torrent, rather 
 than a river, descending from the Alps, we travelled for some leagues 
 through a plain, sprinkled, not shaded, with mulberry trees. The little 
 bridges over the water-courses which intersect and fertilize this plain, 
 were hardly wider than the carriage, and without any sort of fence ; one 
 of them, moreover, had a large hole in it, and this was not the only place 
 in the way where it appeared impossible that we should escape an over- 
 turn, but we happily passed them all without any accident. 
 
 We were later in the day than we ought to have been at Vaucluse, for 
 the rays of the sun had already entered the deep, and almost naked valley, in 
 which the spring rises; and being reflected from the rocks, rendered the heat 
 
DATES OF BUILDINGS. 
 
 161 
 
 insupportable. The place in England most like Vaucluse, is Malham Cove ; 
 but the rock at Vaucluse is much higher, and the river, after issuing from 
 its subterraneous reservoir, foams along its rocky channel in a deep valley : 
 this however shortly opens, and it assumes a more tranquil character : a 
 column has lately been erected in the middle of the spring, to the memory 
 of Petrarch and Laura. 
 
 From Vaucluse we returned to the high road at St. Andiol, where Mr. 
 Sharp found a place in the diligence to Marseille, and I remained in 
 a dirty, miserable inn, in order to resume my journey next morning to 
 Avignon. 
 
 I find from Millin that there were two or three Roman monuments 
 within the district I have been rambling over, which I did not see ; a 
 triumphal arch at Carpentras, another at Cavaillon, and the Pont de 
 Chamay, consisting of a bridge, with a fine arch at each end. I am sorry 
 to leave the country without seeing them, but there are so many objects 
 of antiquity in these provinces, both of Roman times, and of almost every 
 succeeding age, that it would take many months to examine them all, and 
 I must leave them to the chance of a future opportunity. 
 
 Having now communicated to you my observations on the Roman ar- 
 chitecture in these provinces, I will endeavour to throw into something of 
 a connected form, those remarks on the edifices of a later date, which I 
 have hitherto refrained from particularizing, in order to be able to give 
 you a general view of the subject. If I were to arrange all the ancient 
 buildings which I have lately seen, according to their supposed date, they 
 would be in the following order : 
 
 Perhaps before our era. 
 
 In the first century. 
 
 In the second century. 
 
 In the third century. 
 In the fourth century. 
 
 Arch at Vienne 
 
 Arch at Orange 
 
 Arch at St. Remi 
 
 Maison Carree at Nismes 
 
 Temple at Vienne 
 
 Temple of the fountain at Nismes . . . . 
 
 Monument at St. Remi 
 
 Entablature and capitals at Aries, said to be 
 
 part of the Capitol 
 
 Columns supposed of the theatre at Aries . 
 Theatre at Aries . 
 
 Y 
 
162 
 
 DATES OF BUILDINGS. 
 
 Portico of Notre Dame de Dom at Avignon In the sixth century. 
 Church of Notre Dame de Dom . . . 
 
 Cathedral at Valence -\ 
 
 Porch of the church of Tarrascon . . . A In the eleventh century. 
 Porch of the church of St. Trophime at Aries) 
 
 These dates startle you, but if we still have many Roman buildings re- 
 maining, why should we not find some of later dates ? Europe was in so 
 disturbed a state during the period immediately following the fall of the 
 Roman power, that we do not readily conceive that the means, or the 
 will, should have been found, of erecting any considerable buildings ; but 
 from 539 to 585, after its submission to the kings of France, who made 
 of Aries a sort of capital ; and during the whole of the seventh century, and 
 beginning of the eighth, Provence seems to have enjoyed a degree of tran- 
 quillity quite sufficient to account for the erection of public buildings of 
 some magnificence ; and their intercourse with Greece and Italy might 
 have supplied artists. In 876, Aries became the capital of a powerful 
 kingdom, and if the ambition of its sovereigns drew them away from 
 their own subjects, the Counts of Provence, who were rich, powerful, su- 
 perstitious, and nearly independent, may be well supposed capable of 
 adorning their country with churches and monasteries. In short, from 
 539 to 736, and again from 879 to 1131, history offers no objection to the 
 idea that magnificent edifices may have been raised in this country. The 
 twelfth century was an age of republics, but of very turbulent ones. 
 
 I have already described the remains of Roman architecture ; I will now 
 particularize the others, in the supposed order of dates. The porch of the 
 church of Notre Dame de Dom, is said by some antiquaries to be prior 
 to the church ; while others maintain, that the body of the building is also 
 of the same early date; there is an upright joint in the masonry, about 15 
 inches from the main edifice, which appears to me to separate the erections 
 of two different epochs. It seems quite the general opinion, but not resting 
 on sufficient authority, that this porch was part of a Roman temple de- 
 
 Church at Orange . . . 
 Cathedral at Aries . . . 
 Some other small churches 
 Cathedral at Nismes . . 
 Front of ditto .... 
 
 In the ninth century^ 
 In the tenth century. 
 
NOTRE DAME DE DOM. 
 
 163 
 
 dicated to Hercules. It is not in itself a complete edifice, but forms three 
 sides of a small quadrangular building, with a Corinthian column at each 
 of the two angles of the front, and an arch between them. The columns 
 are set on pedestals, but the pilasters of the arch pass between them to 
 the ground, as is usually the case in the Roman triumphal arches ; so far 
 the whole is correct. Above the columns there is merely an architrave, 
 whose upper moulding is very large and solid. It is even finely profiled 
 as a termination, but would appear rather too massive, if it were sur- 
 mounted by a frieze and cornice ; I will not assert that this was not 
 the case, though there are now no vestiges of either : the present ter- 
 mination being a plain gable end to the roof. Though a little stiff and 
 dry, both the ornaments, and their disposition, are decidedly Roman. 
 The inner doorway, which is in the wall of the church tower, is nearly a 
 repetition of the composition of the entrance to the porch, but instead of 
 a pilaster, there is a little column under the impost of the arch, which is 
 not brought down so low as the larger column, and the impost is an entire 
 entablature. The columns may still be called Corinthian, but the volutes 
 are little more than curled leaves, and the caulicoles have entirely disap- 
 peared. Instead of the bold and masculine character of the outer archi- 
 trave, we find a small detached rectangular block above the capital, support- 
 ing a compressed cornice ; and a raking cornice, with two rows of modillions, 
 forms a very acute pediment. From the porch we enter into the vesti- 
 bule : this is square below, octangular above, and is finished, I believe, by 
 a hemispherical dome, which has eight ribs springing on the faces of the 
 octagon, and not from the angles. It is in the tower, the whole lower part of 
 which is likewise attributed to the Romans, but from the character of the 
 architecture, it appears that the inner doorway, this vestibule, the nave, 
 and the lantern at the end, are all of the same date, and though much dis- 
 turbed by subsequent alterations, they offer the best specimen I have, 
 seen of caver?i-like Gothic. Here is a new term for you, but it is also a 
 new style of architecture, and one which seems nearly peculiar to the 
 south of France. It is principally characterized by the continued vault- 
 ing of the roof, generally pointed, but without groins, and by the absence 
 of windows in the sides of the nave, or if any, they were very small. 
 There is no proper transept, but sometimes there are approaches to one ; 
 altogether it has very much the appearance of a cavern. In the present 
 instance, four semi-circular arches open under the vaulting of the nave ; 
 
 Y 2 
 
164 
 
 CATHEDRAL AT ARLES. 
 
 the fifth division is not vaulted, but four advancing arches on each side 
 contract it to a square, which is surmounted by an octagonal lantern with 
 a dome ; there have been eight windows in this drum, but seven are now 
 filled up, and windows have been opened in the nave. There is also a 
 window on each side below the lantern, which perhaps existed in the ori- 
 ginal work. The choir, I suspect to be somewhat later. In the fourteenth 
 century all the arches on the south side seem to have been altered to the 
 style of that age, the semicircular arches having been taken out, and 
 pointed ones introduced ; side chapels of greater extent were also then 
 added, in one of which is a Gothic tomb of John XXII., of excellent de- 
 sign, but poor workmanship. Another, called the chapel of the popes, is 
 also attributed to the fourteenth century, and corresponds in several par- 
 ticulars with the church of St. Nizier at Lyon, which is of the same pe- 
 riod. The bases are all at the same elevation, but the shafts run up 
 through the capitals, and are lost among the mouldings of the ribs. The 
 roof of the earlier part of the building is covered with stone slabs, which 
 I believe rest on the vaulting without the intervention of any wood-work. 
 There is a little ridge ornament of intersecting ribs of stone, which does 
 not seem to be of equal antiquity. 
 
 The next subject is the church at Orange. The arch which forms the 
 western doorway here, is so much like the Roman work of the theatre, 
 that it might almost be supposed to be of the same age. The church it- 
 self is of very high antiquity, and of a style of architecture very similar to 
 that of Notre Dame de Dom ; it is vaulted with a continued arch, slightly 
 pointed, but without groins ; there are no side aisles, but on each side are 
 four chapels, with semicircular arches ; the windows are small also, with 
 semicircular heads, which enter into the vaulting of the nave, and are not 
 perhaps as old as the building. At the end of the church is an apsis. I 
 believe this is a semicircular niche, nearly as high as the nave, and like 
 that with a pointed arch, but modern ornaments hide its form ; and in the 
 back of it there is a single lancet window. This I write from memory, as 
 I neglected to note it on the spot ; at any rate I should doubt of its 
 being part of the original construction ; it is rare to find this ancient 
 apsis existing, as it has usually been pulled down to make room for a 
 more spacious choir. 
 
 The nave of the cathedral at Aries, dedicated to St. Trophimus, is said 
 to have been built by St. Virgil, and consecrated on the 17th May, 626. 
 
CATHEDRAL AT NISMES. 
 
 165 
 
 I am inclined to believe that we now see the original building. The vault- 
 ing is Very obtusely pointed without groins. This church has aisles and 
 no side chapels, but these aisles are vaulted only in a quarter of a circle, 
 which forms a counterpoise to the thrust of the great arch of the nave ; 
 the openings into the side aisles are also very obtusely pointed. The 
 windows are modern, and I suspect that no window was intended in the 
 nave, except a small circular one over the principal entrance ; how the 
 choir was originally finished, I have not sufficient evidence to decide, but 
 it is most likely that the building terminated in an apsis, as in the ancient 
 churches of Rome, with the altar in front, and an inclosure for the choir 
 before the altar. 
 
 Although in all the churches of this style, windows posterior to the 
 date of the building have been opened into the nave, yet they almost 
 always feel close, and have a disagreeable smell ; this was very strongly 
 the case at Aries, and perhaps contributed to my illness there. The 
 bones of St. Trophimus were brought here in 1152, and it is not improba- 
 ble that the porch was added on this occasion. It is very magnificent, 
 consisting of a large and rich semicircular arch, with multiplied mould- 
 ings, supported on slender columns, and the whole adorned with a pro- 
 fusion of statues. Although of a style which terminated with the twelfth 
 century, it is evidently an adjunct to the original building, but one to which 
 it would be I believe, impossible to find a parallel. It is difficult to explain 
 how it happens, that such a contradiction to good sense, as supporting a 
 great arch upon little columns, can produce a pleasing effect, yet I must 
 acknowledge that this porch is not only singular, but very beautiful. 
 The porch at Tarrascon, already mentioned, was somewhat similar to this, 
 but greatly inferior, and it has been much damaged during the Revolution, 
 while that of Aries remains perfect. 
 
 The cathedral at Nismes has a simple nave, with groined and pointed 
 arches and chapels, with semicircular arches on the sides. The west 
 front bears evident traces of the Roman style of design ; it has a pedi- 
 ment, and a cornice supported by modillions, with roses in the intervals, 
 both on the upright face and on the soffite. Under the cornice is a 
 continued frieze ornamented with a series of figures from the scripture 
 history. This front has suffered much by repeated alterations ; the part 
 above described is certainly ancient, but lower down, the original form is 
 become very obscure : it seems to have been a continued wall, ornamented 
 
166 
 
 CATHEDRAL AT VALENCE. 
 
 with very slender shafts supporting small semicircular arches. The upper 
 part of the western tower, for there is at present only one, is of the 
 fifteenth century ; the lower part is considerably more ancient. There 
 is a gloomy passage behind the choir, and a ladies chapel, which is of 
 later date. The church at St. Remi also partakes of this cavern style, 
 and many of the village churches which I could not stop to examine 
 seem to exhibit it, and are perhaps of the same early date. 
 
 The church at Valence is a very remarkable example, which must 
 rather be classed with what is called Norman architecture, than with the 
 edifices above described. Yet it must be confessed, that if it resemble 
 the ancient buildings of our own country, in so many particulars as to be 
 comprehended in the same term, it yet differs in others so much as 
 to present an appearance by no means exactly similar. The ornaments 
 in particular are all Roman ; the only attempt at novelty in the earlier 
 buildings of the middle ages, in the south of France, consisting in placing 
 some of them topsy-turvy. The shape is a Latin cross, of which the foot 
 is remarkably long, and the head short. The vaulting of the nave is 
 waggon-headed, that of the side aisles is groined; all the vaults and arches 
 are semicircular. The capitals are all nearly alike, and are only a step 
 farther from the Corinthian than those of the inner archway of the 
 church of Notre Dame de Dom. It is amusing to follow the steps of 
 this degradation of the Roman architecture from one building to ano- 
 ther ; and here, though very much altered, there is still much more of the 
 original form than we find in England, or in the north of France. The 
 piers consist of four half columns of very slender proportions, united to a 
 square pillar; and these half columns rise in one height, without any 
 intermediate bands, from the small plinth on which they stand, to the 
 underside of the vaulting. The arches of the side aisles rise nearly to the 
 springing of the vault of the nave. The intersection of the nave and 
 transept is surmounted with a dome, and the chevet finishes in a niche- 
 head or semi-dome ; it is earlier than any thing I know in the eleventh 
 century, but the existence of a transept makes me unwilling to suppose 
 its erection prior to the year 1000. The lower part of the tower is per- 
 haps older; the upper is certainly more recent than the body of the 
 church ; yet it is still a sort of Norman, but with some Gothic ornaments, 
 which do not seem to be additions. As the Norman, or something very 
 like it, appears to have been the architecture of Charlemagne, it is pos- 
 
PROGRESS OF ARCHITECTURE. 
 
 167 
 
 sible that the cathedral at Valence is of the eighth century ; but I find 
 that I have freed myself from all those shackles about dates, which I had 
 imbibed in England and strengthened at Paris ; and now ramble through 
 five or six centuries with very little light to guide me. 
 
 The church at Vienne which I have already described, is the last 
 which retains any trace of this cavern-like style, and that rather in some 
 of the accessories than in any of the principal parts. There we meet 
 with something of Norman details, and something of a degraded Roman. 
 The Norman may perhaps itself be called a degraded Roman, but the 
 degradation has not always taken place exactly in the same manner. It 
 is curious enough that in the latter imitations of Roman, they should 
 frequently have reversed the ornaments, putting the eggs and darts, for 
 instance, the wrong side uppermost, while at the expiration of the Gothic 
 in the sixteenth century, we may sometimes find the trefoil ornament 
 reversed in the same manner. 
 
168 
 
 1 
 
 LETTER XII. 
 
 SOUTH OF FRANCE. 
 
 Geneva, ''11th August, 1816. 
 
 In my last I ran through the architecture of the middle ages in the soath 
 of France, and have now only a few observations to add of a more mis- 
 cellaneous nature. The church of Notre Dame de Dom is seated on a 
 rock which rises immediately from the Rhone, above the rest of the town, 
 to the height of about 120 feet: all the remainder of the country to the 
 east of the river, is a plain, bounded at a moderate distance by rugged 
 hills, and beyond these by Mont Ventou, a bulky mountain, estimated 
 to rise 6,000 feet above the Mediterranean. On the other side of the 
 river, rocky hills come down to the water's edge, crowned in several 
 ( places with picturesque ruins. In the middle of the Rhone is a large 
 
 island shaded with trees ; and extending half way across the nearest branch 
 of the stream, are the ruins of the ancient bridge of St. Benezet; the 
 first perhaps of any consequence built by the nations of modern Europe. 
 It was begun in 1177, during the most flourishing period of Avignon, 
 when the government of that city was republican. Notwithstanding the 
 expense of the erection, we are told that in 1179, the magistrates de- 
 clared the inhabitants free from all imposts on that account. The bridge 
 consisted of twenty-two arches, and was 1,200 paces in length; but like 
 all ancient bridges, very narrow, the road-way not exceeding nine feet in 
 width. Each arch is composed of four ribs, or series of vault stones, not 
 bonded together. Like the Pont St. Esprit, it forms an elbow towards 
 the current. On the first pier of the bridge is a chapel for the passengers 
 to pay their devotions. This custom was probably derived from times 
 when there was only a dangerous ferry, and travellers performed an act of 
 piety, that they might not die unprepared. The old chapel was entered 
 by a descending flight of steps, but as this was found inconvenient, a 
 vault was inserted at half the height, and a new chapel built at the top 
 of the old one ; the first has a semicircular apsis with little columns, much 
 like the Corinthian ; the other is polygonal. 
 
 When Louis XIV. visited Avignon, the inhabitants, to do him honour. 
 
AVIGNON. 
 
 169 
 
 spread the whole of the bridge with velvet, and covered it with a canopy 
 of silk. They did it, perhaps, as sacrifices are performed to evil deities, 
 in order to avert the mischief they may occasion : but Louis, struck with 
 this appearance of wealth and prosperity, in a town which did not belong 
 to him, and not to be propitiated by their hospitality, destroyed the 
 bridge, surrounded the place with custom-houses, ruined its trade, and 
 thus drove the manufacturers to other places ; and the city, which once 
 boasted a population of eighty thousand souls, is now reduced to less than 
 twenty thousand. 
 
 Avignon was a republic from 1134 to 1251. The popes came here 
 (Clement V.) in 1309, and abandoned it in 1376. Two sham popes were 
 here till 1403, from which time Avignon was governed by a vice-legate, 
 deputed by the popes, till the revolution, when it was finally taken pos- 
 session of by the French, and I suppose stands no chance of being 
 restored. Nor is it desirable that it should, since being inclosed in France, 
 it must always be in effect, subject to the government of that country. 
 There is a museum and a public library ; and I visited the house of one 
 gentleman in the place, who has a fine collection of casts, and some 
 pictures ; but I did not find any thing very interesting. 
 
 Close by the church of Notre Dame de Dom are remains of the palace. It 
 is said to have existed before the arrival of the popes, but if so, it was greatly 
 enlarged and embellished by them. It is, or rather it has been, for great 
 part is now in ruins, an immense, irregular pile of building, without the 
 least pretension to beauty : one part is now become the prison of the 
 city ; another is converted into barracks ; but the greater part has long 
 ceased to be of any use. Like so many other old buildings in France, it 
 is deeply stained with blood : the walls of the hall are still shewn where 
 the antipope Benedict XIII. blew up his guests, and one of the towers 
 was the scene of a still more horrible enormity, perpetrated during the 
 bloody era of the revolution, from which it has received the name of the 
 Tower of Massacre. No less than sixty-five persons of both sexes, 
 accused of being aristocrats, were crowded into a little room in the 
 upper part of it, and the ruling party amused themselves with shooting 
 from the door amongst the prisoners. When, in this manner, all of them 
 had been more or less disabled, the ruffians entered the room, and having 
 made a hole in the vaulting which supported the floor, precipitated the 
 miserable victims one by one to the bottom of the tower, a height of 
 
 z 
 
1 
 
 170 VALLEY OF THE ISERE, 
 
 80 or 100 feet ; for the intermediate floors, if ever there were any, had 
 all been destroyed. The cries of the wretched sufferers were still heard, 
 and a quantity of quick lime was thrown down, at once to stifle them, and 
 to destroy the bodies. The gratuitous excesses of this period make one 
 shudder for human nature. History presents nothing to equal them ; 
 we find examples of individuals, indeed, whose highest enjoyment seems 
 to have arisen from the sufferings of others ; but here the mass of the 
 population, a population professing itself christian, and boasting even of 
 its high civilization, appear to have had no greater delight than to make 
 their fellow creatures suffer ; and late events shew this most execrable 
 spirit still to exist in the south of France. The chapel of this place 
 remains entire; it is a large, and even handsome room, of seven bays 
 with two windows at each end. 
 
 I left Avignon on the evening of the 9th of August for Valence, 
 where there is a very curious church, which I have already described. 
 Close by it is a monument, which Millin says would merit an engraving ; 
 it did not strike me as particularly interesting, but the weather was so 
 cold as to impede my drawing; an inconvenience I certainly did not 
 expect in this latitude, at this time of year. On the 11th I again resumed 
 my place in a diligence for Grenoble. The morning was cold, but fine, 
 with clouds hanging over the distant mountains. The first striking 
 object was Romans ; situated in the valley of the Isere, wild and varied, 
 but without any mixture of the terrible ; in the midst of which the city 
 occupies a charming situation. Soon after, we approach the mountains, 
 high, broken, and savage. These and the river were on our right ; on 
 the left were high wooded hills, sometimes rocky, but not rising into 
 mountains ; and our route lay through a delightful valley well wooded, 
 with vines on high trellises, and corn underneath them, or rather stubble, 
 for little corn remained on the ground. Where there were no vines, 
 we found mulberry-trees, and there is very little ground not shaded in 
 one way or the other. Besides these, the valley produces abundance of 
 noble walnut trees, and the woods, which are spread over the hills, con- 
 tain a considerable quantity of fine timber. As for the shape of the 
 mountains, those about Settle may give you some notion of them, only 
 they are I suppose three times as high, and more steep and abrupt, 
 especially about the entrance of the valley of Grenoble. The Isere 
 there, makes a sudden bend, and the road turning with it, conducts us 
 
GRANDE CHARTREUSE. 
 
 171 
 
 between two magnificent rocky masses, with a rich and fertile valley of 
 about a mile wide between them. Grenoble stands at the edge of a 
 plain which looks as if it had been a lake, watered by the Isere and the 
 Drac. The former is still a considerable river, but thick and muddy. 
 In walking about Grenoble, wherever the street has length enough in a 
 line nearly straight to give any opening, one is sure to see a mountain or 
 a precipice, with clouds hanging about it, or with snow lying in its 
 hollows. The difference of vegetation, between this neighbourhood and 
 Provence is very striking ; the plants are much more like those of Eng- 
 land, and such as I had left in seed at Nismes are here still in flower. 
 I find again cherries and strawberries, and young peas ; none of which I 
 had seen since leaving Lyon. No figs ; and though there are green- 
 gages in the market, they are not ripe, while at Avignon they are almost 
 over. 
 
 On the morning of the 13th 1 set off with a guide to the Grande 
 Chartreuse, going by the longer and more practicable route, and pro- 
 posing to return by the shorter. We passed fine cliffs and deep ravines, 
 such as you would take a long ride to see in England ; but one of the 
 great charms of the scene arises from the noble chesnut and walnut trees 
 which shade the sloping parts. Even to the mountain tops there is 
 plenty of wood, and firs are seen crowning the most elevated precipices. 
 We crossed what is called in Cumberland a hawse, but instead of finding 
 barren moors at top, as would be the case there, we meet with farm-houses, 
 meadows, woods, trees, hedges, and even corn-fields ; the wheat, however, 
 was far from ripe, and the oats were quite green. From the village of 
 St. Laurent our course lies by a little mountain stream, called the Gaiers 
 Mort. While the horses rested, 1 walked forward alone, coasting the 
 stream, sometimes down on the banks, sometimes two or three hundred 
 feet above them, apd seeming to be rather in a rift in the mountain than 
 in a valley. This opening is entered by a passage, where there is just 
 room for the road and the river, between perpendicular rocks. An arch 
 built across the road, marks the limit of the ancient domain of the Char- 
 treuse. If you can figure to yourself Helkswood, at Ingleton, immensely 
 magnified, you will have no bad idea of this pass. Similar scenery, some- 
 times with a little more space, sometimes with less, and varied by preci- 
 pices more or less tremendously magnificent, accompanies us till nearly 
 
 z 2 
 
172 
 
 GRANDE CHARTREUSE. 
 
 the end of our journey. The road descends sometimes ahnost to the bottom; 
 at others, carries us on the edge of slopes, higher and steeper than the 
 steep part of Boxhill, but always covered with wood ; and sometimes we 
 seem to look down quite perpendicularly on the noisy torrent below. At 
 one point, a sudden turn in the road, where we cross the stream by a 
 bridge, and begin to ascend the opposite side of the valley, presents a 
 particularly fine assemblage of these objects. At last the scene opens, 
 and we behold meadows, and a number of men employed in mowing them, 
 and soon after, the Grande Chartreuse itself, an enormous, ugly pile of 
 building, standing on the slope of a mountain, a situation unavoidable 
 where there is no level ground. I walked round the lengthened corridors, 
 and examined the apartments of the monks ; each of which contains a 
 sitting-room and bed-room, a light closet, places for wood, &c., and a little 
 garden ; but after the neglect of twenty-five years, every thing looks for- 
 lorn and desolate. Five old men are returned, more are expected, but 
 the establishment is at present very poor ; they hope however to receive 
 a grant of the woods immediately about them, and to obtain some revenue 
 from the sale of charcoal, and from that of planks, all of which must be 
 sent on the backs of mules to find a market in the lower country. 
 
 I walked up among the woods, which are of fir and beech, but mostly 
 of the first, to the chapel of St. Bruno, and returned to a supper on soupe 
 maigre, an omelet, and bread and cheese. I had taken the precaution 
 to provide a substantial meat pie at Grenoble, aware that the cheer here 
 was not very good, but my guide had lost it, together with his own great 
 coat, by the way. I then retired to sleep on a bag of straw between two 
 brown blankets, for all the sheets belonging to the establishment were 
 dirty ; and the whole population being employed about the hay, there 
 was no possibility of washing them. It appears that the climate of the 
 Grande Chartreuse has not summer enough to ripen corn. The convent 
 is every where surrounded by mountains and precipices. Opposite to it 
 is a steep slope covered with wood to an immense height ; in the imme- 
 diate neighbourhood are meadows and pastures, rising on hills which are 
 pretty steep, but not rocky. Indeed the soil must be good, for the vege- 
 tation is vigorous. Behind are steep woods"; and above these, lofty pre- 
 cipices form the summit of the Granson, on which there remained a small 
 portion of the last winter's snow. 
 
GRENOBLE. 
 
 173 
 
 The next morning I returned to Grenoble, among scenery of the same 
 character. We are so used to the barrenness of the upper parts of our 
 own mountains, that an Englishman is astonished to observe so much 
 good land in such elevated situations. From the vegetable productions 
 I might very well have imagined myself in Surrey, if the occasional ap- 
 pearance of Pyrola secunda, Saxifraga rotimdijolia, and a few other Alpine 
 plants had not disturbed the reverie. On a more extensive view indeed 
 the number of fir trees, mixed with the beech, gave a different character 
 to the landscape ; and towards the summit the woods were almost all of fir, 
 with only scrubby beeches interspersed, and patches of snow were still 
 lying among them. My guide made me observe some cattle near the 
 summit. Here, as in other parts of France, these always have attendants 
 to take care that they do not trespass, and to drive them home at night ; 
 even if there were hedges or other inclosures, which there are not, they 
 could not be left out at night on account of the wolves. During winter, 
 a dog left at night in any court or open place, among these mountains, is 
 almost certainly destroyed before morning. The latter part of the journey 
 I performed on foot, and was highly gratified by my walk. 
 
 The view from the descent into the vale of Grenoble is extremely fine, 
 extending over the rich and fertile plain beneath ; the cultivated hills rising 
 around it, the woody mountains, occupying a still wider circuit, and the 
 rocky Alps towering above all, and still retaining, and some of them 
 always retaining, great beds of snow. It was indeed a magnificent per- 
 spective, yet not without some alloy ; for the dense clouds and thick va- 
 pour very much obscured the prospect. I only saw at intervals, some- 
 times one, sometimes another part of the scene, and was led to imagine 
 what the glorious whole would be in more favourable weather. The 
 plain and the lower hills were always visible, sometimes a black mass of 
 rocks would rise above the clouds, unconnected with any other earthly 
 object ; sometimes nothing was to be seen of a mountain but an illumined 
 patch of snow shining through the mist When I reached the bottom, I 
 began to feel the weather very hot, and found they had been complaining 
 much at Grenoble of the heat for the last two days. 
 
 Grenoble contains nothing interesting in point of architecture, but the 
 cathedral claims our attention in another way, by preserving the tomb of 
 Bayard, the chevalier " sans peur, et sans reproche,' a long tasteless Latin 
 inscription records the fact ; it begins. 
 
174 
 
 THE FRENCH PEOPLE, 
 
 Hie lapis superbit tuniulo non titulo, 
 Ubi sepultus Heros maximus suo ipsemet 
 Sepulchre monumentum. 
 
 One would have wished something of a very different character. 
 
 It was near one o'clock on Thursday, the 15th of August, before the 
 diligence left Grenoble. The road winds along the charming valley of 
 Gresivanda, presenting the richest views over its varied scenery. It was 
 dark before we reached the frontiers of Savoy, and as I arrived at Cham- 
 beri at midnight, and left it at three o'clock the next morning, in a heavy 
 rain, I shall not attempt a description. We reached Geneva about seven 
 yesterday evening, but I postpone any account of this city, till I have seen 
 a little more of it, and shall occupy the remaining part of my letter in an- 
 swering yours. You ask me if I can really see nothing but buildings and 
 mountains in France, or if I have at any time met with such phenomena 
 as men and women. I will reply as well as I can to the spirit of this 
 question ; there are some observations on the French character which 
 force themselves on the attention of the traveller, some of which, notwith- 
 standing your sneer, I have already noticed. Whether there exist any at- 
 tachment to the present dynasty is a question which I must answer in 
 the negative. The French are willing to suffer the Bourbons, because 
 they wish for peace, and there seems to be something of affection spring- 
 ing up towards the present king, which does not in the least extend itself 
 to the other members of the reigning family. There is a widely diffused, 
 and pretty generally received opinion of the moderation and good sense 
 of the former, but the others are nowhere well spoken of. You will have 
 seen in the French papers, accounts of the enthusiasm with which the 
 Duke and Duchess of Angouleme were received on their late tour, I 
 was not present at any place where they were, but I can form a tolerably 
 correct idea of what I have not seen, from what I have. Lest however, you 
 should be inclined to give more credit to the public journals than they 
 deserve, I will give you a specimen of their courage in publishing the ac- 
 ceptable, rather than the true. It was stated in the Moniteur, while I 
 was at Paris, that three hundred workmen were employed in the church 
 of the Madelaine ; I went there and found about twenty, who could not 
 do much, as they were working without any plan, and it had not been 
 decided whether the design of the Temple of Glory, adopted by Napoleon, 
 should be continued, or some other preferred. The same paper asserted. 
 
THE FRENCH PEOPLE. 
 
 175 
 
 that five hundred men were employed at St. Genevieve. My friend, Mr. 
 Sharp, was drawing there every day ; and as he saw nobody, he applied to 
 the architect, who resides on the spot, to know where they were, but he 
 also was entirely ignorant of their existence : a week after this, about a dozen 
 men were set to work to take down the sculpture of the pediment, and 
 to erase the inscription, Aux grands homines la patrie reconnoissante.^ 
 After this you will not wonder if I interpret the glowing accounts of the 
 rejoicings in the south of France, by what I observed at Aries, where 
 vive le roi was given out from the Hotel de Ville from time to time, and 
 repeated by the children in the crowd, who were pleased with the fire- 
 works. It is the municipal government which says all and does all on 
 these occasions, the people are nothing. With respect to the transactions 
 at Nismes, concerning which you think I must have collected many par- 
 ticulars, I am afraid that I can give you very little satisfaction. It seems 
 to me that the Catholics were guilty of these excesses against the Protes- 
 tants from superstition, and that they endeavoured to cover themselves 
 by the pretence of zeal for the king ; that the provincial government 
 weakly lent itself to this feeling, of which indeed the members probably 
 participated ; and that the government of France, or at least their princi- 
 pal agent, the Duke of Angouleme, was unwilling to repress too strongly, 
 a spirit, which whether considered in a religious or political point of 
 view, his own prejudices taught him to consider as resting on a meritorious 
 foundation, though carried to a culpable excess. At the same time some 
 political circumstances had much inflamed this religious animosity, all of 
 which however imply the previous existence of such a sentiment. The 
 Protestants of Nismes form a body, whose consequence and respectability 
 is proportionally much greater than their numbers. It is not to be won- 
 dered at, therefore, if under a government which made no distinctions, 
 they should occupy a larger share of public situations, than in the eyes 
 of the Catholics they were entitled to do. On the return of the king, 
 therefore, the Catholics united to drive them out, and irritated by what 
 appeared to them an act of injustice, the Protestants took the first op- 
 portunity to retaliate. Thus politics became an important part of the 
 quarrel, but religion remains the ground-work. The prisons at Nismes 
 are filled with Protestants, who are confined merely on a general charge 
 of attachment to Napoleon, and in some instances, a renunciation of reli- 
 
 * Even this was not effected on my return to Paris in 1819. 
 
176 
 
 THE FRENCH PEOPLE. 
 
 gion has been sufficient immediately to procure the prisoner his liberty. 
 Now I have no authority to cite for all this ; it is merely intelligence 
 picked up on the spot, in conversation with Catholics and Protestants, 
 and connected together as well as I could. I contend however, that it is 
 better deserving of credit than any thing issuing from the French autho- 
 rities, who are in fact some of the parties accused ; better than the letter of 
 the Duke of Wellington, who probably gave himself no trouble to investi- 
 gate the circumstances, but adopted with little hesitation what those autho- 
 rities were pleased to communicate. The letter of the minister, Olivia, I was 
 not able to clear up while I was there, he having left the place, but I have 
 since been informed by an Englishman, whom I casually met with, that 
 he talked on the subject with Olivia himself, and that this minister ex- 
 pressly disclaimed the letter as it appeared in the English papers : he had 
 written a letter to the secretary of the committee, and that he might not 
 be subject to any imputation for so doing, he had first sent it to the Duke 
 of Richelieu. The letter published contained some of his expressions and 
 phrases, but the substance was materially altered. 
 
 Generally speaking, the prisons of the south of France are filled with 
 prisoners for political offences, or rather for political opinions, and at 
 Grenoble, the criminal tribunal is declared permanent. Yet, if the 
 French are not attached to the present government, it does not appear 
 that they have, in general, any aversion to it. They do not love Na- 
 poleon, but their dislike is deeply mixed with regret for the splendour 
 and glory of his reign. They do not trouble their heads about young 
 Napoleon, yet if he should prove a man of any talents, and the Bour- 
 bons should take any measures to excite alarm concerning the national 
 property, it is probably to him they would look, because there is no 
 other, whose claim would be readily admitted by the party opposed to the 
 present system. With the exception of some men of talents, who wish to 
 open that career of honourable ambition, which a popular government 
 admits more than any other, I do not think they have any inclination for 
 a second experiment of a republic. I hope Louis XVIII. will live eight 
 or ten years longer at least, for I think it would give a chance, I fear the 
 only chance, the French have for a constitution, round which they will 
 generally rally against either anarchy or despotism. If the feeling is 
 once* fully called forth, they will soon improve their government ; it may be 
 
 * Of course this was written long before the events of 1820. In the clamours for the 
 
THE FRENCH PEOPLE. 
 
 177 
 
 an indifferent constitution at present, but such a union will gradually 
 make it a good one, and I think it would be no small advantage to our 
 own, to have liberty well understood and acted upon in a great neigh- 
 bouring state. We submit to many inconveniences, and many abuses, 
 because we fancy them inseparable from what we love and admire ; if 
 France were free, the difference of her prejudices and manners would 
 show us the road in many instances, as we show it to her in others. 
 
 Charte, that feeling seemed to be excited, or at least such clamours would tend to excite it, 
 but the ministers of the day did all they could to stifle it. 
 
178 
 
 LETTER XIII. 
 
 GENEVA. 
 
 Lausanne, 8th September, 1816. 
 
 Geneva was very full, and the difficulty of finding a lodging drove me 
 to a little inn, called the Hotel des Trois Maures, where I had a good 
 chamber, and nothing else good. The first, to me, was an important ad- 
 vantage, as I wanted to revise the sketches and memoranda of the south 
 of France, before the subject had faded from my recollection. In fact, 
 I wished to disburthen my mind entirely, and transfer it to paper ; which 
 was a great relief, for I felt a continual anxiety lest any thing should es- 
 cape me after having once been observed. On the 17th of August I 
 walked to Cologni, where our friend, Mr. W., has taken up his abode ; he 
 has a beautiful spot ; his grounds command, on one side, the Lake of 
 Geneva and the distant range of J ura ; on the other, a rich valley opens 
 towards the Mole, a fine conical mountain, rising 4,800 feet above the 
 lake ; the Brezon, with its ragged summit crowning the hanging woods 
 which creep up its sides ; and beyond all, the brilliant summit of Mont 
 Blanc. 
 
 A few days after, I rambled over the little Saleve. The greater Saleve 
 is a limestone hill, with one precipitous face, very much, in character, 
 like some of the limestone scars near Kendal. It is about 1,800 feet above 
 the lake. The little Saleve is perhaps, 400 or 500 feet lower. It 
 presents the most magnificent views over the Lake of Geneva, the Pays 
 de Vaud, and of the range of J ura ; and in the opposite direction, of 
 the valley of the Arve, and of the mountains between that and the lake, 
 and of the district of Chablais, famous for its wine. To the right of 
 Chablais appeared the rugged rock D'Enfer, streaked with snow, the 
 point of Agredon, the glaciers of the Siege Vert ; and on the south, the 
 Brezon and a long range of mountains, extending towards the Lake of 
 Annecy. Mont Blanc only shone now and then from his throne of 
 clouds ; and even of Mont Buet I had only a transitory glimpse. 
 
 Another excursion was to Ferney, in order to see the chateau of Vol- 
 taire. The French government have insisted on retaining this village. 
 
GENEVA. 
 
 179 
 
 as it is said, because it was the residence of the witty philosopher. The 
 situation is fine, but it commands no view of the lake. The building is 
 composed, to use the French terminology, of three pavilions and two 
 corps de logis; the extent of the front may, perhaps, be about eighty 
 feet. The bed-chamber, as I was told on the spot, remains just as it was 
 in Voltaire's lifetime ; the same bed, the same furniture, the same 
 prints, with the addition of one only, representing his monument ; but 
 I was assured at Geneva that other alterations had taken place. In 
 the dining-room is a monumental stone, in a wooden frame, with this 
 inscription : " Au chantre du premier des Bourbons, et au Fondateur de 
 Ferney." A wooden case, in the form of a pyramid, is put over the 
 stone in order to preserve it, and in this a small hole has been made 
 through which you are to peep. The whole has much the appearance 
 of a showman's box. The stone which contained the inscription on the 
 church, " Deo Voltaire," was taken down at the time of the revolution ; the 
 present possessor wished to restore it, but the cur^ opposes it. Return- 
 ing from Ferney, I made a diversion towards the lake, by a road which 
 runs on a sort of terrace, with the Alps on the right hand and J ura on 
 the left ; and afterwards descended through a pleasant wood, adorned 
 with the showy flowers of Dianthus superbus, and the flowerless bushes 
 of the Rosa pumila, to the edge of the water. 
 
 Geneva itself is a singular city, or at least two of the principal streets 
 offer an arrangement, which is I believe, perfectly unique ; the roofs of 
 the houses project ten or twelve feet beyond the walls, and are sup- 
 ported across the foot ways by lofty posts. You thus walk in an open 
 gallery, whose height is nearly that of the whole house. 
 
 In the Journal de Genhve, for 1789 and 1790, are some researches into 
 the history of the church of St. Peter, the cathedral of Geneva, by M. 
 Sennebier, who quotes Besson, " Memoires sur le Diocese de Genhve" 
 as saying that Frederic II. was consecrated here in 1025; but as the 
 emperor Frederic II. died in 1250, there must be some mistake. Even 
 Frederic I. was only born in 1121. In 1025 Geneva probably belonged 
 to the kingdom of Aries, of which Rodolph III. [faineant) was then 
 sovereign. 
 
 In 1206 we find an order for the appropriation of the revenues of va- 
 cant benefices to the building of St. Pierre, till the ivork shall be finished; 
 an expression which seems to imply that it was then in a state of some 
 
 2 A 2 
 
180 
 
 CHURCH OF SAINT PIERRE. 
 
 forwardness. In 1219 we have complaints against the then bishop, for 
 neglecting to complete the edifice, or perhaps, only to repair it : in 
 1300 the first year's revenue of vacant benefices was again ordered to be 
 applied to the use of the fabric : in 1 334 it was damaged by fire, and 
 again in 1349 : in 1380 application was made to the Pope, " pour lui d,e- 
 mander qiielques subventions,'' in order to repair the church. The cha- 
 pel of the Maccabees was founded in 1406 ; in 1430 was a terrible fire, 
 which entirely destroyed the west front, and left the church a heap of 
 ruins. In 1441 Felix V. granted the first year's revenue of all benefices 
 becoming vacant, for twenty years ; a similar grant of a half-year's re- 
 venue, probably for the same term, was made by Julius II., in 1505, 
 principally to erect the southern tower; but this not proving sufficient, 
 Clement VII., in 1525, prolonged it for four years. The west front was 
 not restored till 1749, and it is said to be in imitation of the portico of 
 the Pantheon. 
 
 The building, however, of which the above is the history, was not the 
 original church. The period of the erection of the first edifice is un- 
 known, but it was destroyed by an enemy before the year 515, and re- 
 built immediately afterwards on a more magnificent scale, by Gondebaud, 
 king of Burgundy. A fragment of this second church is said to be still 
 in existence ; and there are some indications in the present church of a 
 still older building, which some fancy was a temple of Apollo. 
 
 Thus, then, we have a fragment of wall still existing in the present 
 church, built before 515. 
 
 The fragment of the second church, if it really exist, escaped my ob- 
 servation. 
 
 Rejecting the consecration of some monarch in 1025, as uncertain, we 
 may fairly assume, that the choir, in which the style of work is decidedly 
 Norman, was erected before 1206. 
 
 The body of the building was probably finished not much after that 
 time, or about 1219. Its character much resembles that of Salisbury 
 Cathedral. 
 
 The style of the architecture is nowhere of a later date, in any consi- 
 derable erection, except the west front, which was begun in 1749. 
 
 In all this the history and the internal evidence agree very well. There 
 is some pleasure in such coincidences ; but at the same time, it is saying 
 that one has learnt nothing new from the edifice ; indeed it can hardly 
 
WALK TO CHAMOUNIX. 
 
 181 
 
 be said, that it affords any important confirmation of former results, for it 
 seems to have been long in progress, and prosecuted without zeal or 
 energy. The dimensions are as follows : 
 
 Feet. Inch. 
 
 Whole length internally 202 
 
 Length of transept 1110 
 
 of nave 137 
 
 Width of nave 23 3 
 
 of side aisles 10 
 
 of nave and side aisles 64 4 
 
 of transept 26 
 
 Length of choir 39 
 
 Thickness of piers east to west 9 
 
 north to south 8 6 
 
 Height of shafts to springing 45 6 
 
 vaulting 63 
 
 ditto of side aisles 35 
 
 The arches are mixed, some round and some pointed ; all of them have 
 key-stones. The towers are at each end of the transept. The lower 
 capitals are imitations of the Corinthian, or with grotesque figures. 
 The bases have a deep scotia. There is some stained glass in the chevet, 
 but it is of little consequence ; and, for modern accommodation, there 
 is a paltry gallery, and seats rising one above the other, instead of 
 pews : a much finer building would fail to be impressive with such ac- 
 cessories. I attended divine service in it. There seems to be no kneel- 
 ing, either here, or in the Protestant churches in France ; but at Geneva 
 the men take off their hats, which is not the case at Nismes. 
 
 I left Geneva on the 30th of August to walk to Chamouni, or as it is 
 perhaps more properly written, Chamounix. The terminal x seems to 
 belong to a peculiarity in the dialect of Savoy and the adjacent parts of 
 Switzerland and France. Ferney ought to be Fernex ; Gensey, Gensex : 
 Gex, Bex, &c. still retain it, but it is never heard in pronunciation. The 
 road offers a great variety of scenery ; at first the views have the compa- 
 ratively mild character of the immediate neighbourhood of Geneva ; 
 then the rocks of the Saleve grow upon you, but speedily diminish again, 
 as you leave them, to advance to more magnificent objects. Afterwards 
 
182 
 
 WALK TO CHAMOUNIX. 
 
 the Voiron becomes a fine object ; and when our back is turned upon 
 these, the green slopes of the Mole rise nobly in front, and the rugged 
 and woody precipices of the Brezon appear to close the valley, as the 
 traveller approaches to Bonneville. In England our high hills are gene- 
 rally very naked ; here they are usually woody, and the Mole, Vv^hich 
 is bare compared with his neighbours, is more covered with wood than 
 any of the higher mountains of our own country : it is a conical hill, 4,730 
 feet above the Lake of Geneva, and retained, at this time, one patch of 
 last winter s snow. The Brezon is as high, or perhaps higher than the 
 Mole, but it is less insulated. The summit is bare rock, with here and 
 there a spot of snow : the shoulders are dark with firs, below which is 
 an ascending slope of cultivated land mixed with wood, and the lower 
 precipices are mantled with deciduous trees. The Arve passes between 
 these two mountains, but there is also a fine romantic valley on the east 
 side of the Mole, and the winding road sometimes presents one object, 
 sometimes another; Mont Blanc, with his clouds and snows, overtopping 
 the whole. At Soingi, Siongy, Siongir, or Scionzier, for I have seen it 
 spelt all these ways, I turned out of the road to visit the Reposoir, 
 a convent of Chartreux, high among the mountains ; but though the 
 route presents some very fine scenery, I did not, in this land of magnifi- 
 cent nature, think myself repaid for the delay. After leaving Siongy, 
 the road continues along the valley to Cluse, whose name indicates its 
 situation. The valley seems so completely shut up, that I could not 
 imagine whence the Arve could issue. A sudden turn to the right ex- 
 hibits the pass ; where the mountains, rising in high and woody preci- 
 pices on each side, leave hardly any space for cultivation on the sides of 
 the stream. At Cluse the character of the scene alters, and becomes 
 more magnificent, and more picturesque, yet still presenting scenes of 
 great beauty and repose. In the former part of the walk we were coast- 
 ing the mountains, we are now fairly among them. In this neighbour- 
 hood I first saw the triangular form which water assumes in falling from 
 a great elevation : it flourishes off at the top in circles, but the heavier 
 drops falling faster than the smaller, the circle changes into one or more 
 parabolas ; these become afterwards hyperbolas ; at last the curve is 
 lost to the eye, and we have rectilineal angles, not triangles, for the top 
 line is never given, and the points rush down with great rapidity, 
 while the slower sides are overtaken by the points of the succeeding 
 
GLACIERS. 
 
 18H 
 
 portion. I am rather afraid that this appearance cannot be rendered 
 intelligible by description ; and the incessant motion is so essential to 
 the effect, that the pencil is as inefficient as the pen. The road keeps 
 in the valley, sometimes running along the bottom, sometimes rising 
 over the lower eminences, while the valley itself, occasionally almost 
 closing upon the stream, and at other times opening into a wide and 
 cultivated space, presents the most varied and beautiful landscapes. 
 The rocky and savage mountain, its base clothed with wood, its summit 
 shooting into sharp points divided by tracery of snow, never fails to 
 stamp upon the scene the impression of its own magnificence. The 
 whole walk from Cluse to Les Ouches, is certainly one of the finest in 
 the world ; and one who has seen Mont Blanc illuminated by the set- 
 ting sun, from St. Martin or Salenche, may be excused, if he thinks it 
 impossible for inanimate nature to produce a more sublime scene. The 
 instant change produced at sun-set is very striking. The moment before 
 every thing glows with a life and beauty, of which neither the pencil nor 
 the pen can give you any idea. The moment after, the vast extent of 
 snow, which before exhibited the richest and warmest colouring, becomes 
 pale and cold. It is the transition from life to death ; from the exquisite 
 animated form to a corpse. 
 
 From Les Ouches, the valley of Chamounix begins ; an immense gigan- 
 tic trough, w^hich, though grand, and even sublime, from the immensity 
 of its parts, is by no means so beautiful as the scenery I had just passed. 
 Before reaching Chamounix I fell in with a returning guide, who con- 
 ducted me to the glacier of Bossons ; and, as no description of a glacier 
 can be completely intelligible to those who have never seen one, mine, 
 like those of preceding travellers, must be very imperfect ; nevertheless 
 it may furnish your imagination w^ith some assistance. It is neither a 
 plain, nor a valley full of snow. It is not a mountain of snow or covered 
 with snow. It is more like a mountain of ice, or a valley filled with ice; 
 and if you join these two apparently inconsistent ideas, you will have the 
 best notion of it. Imagine som.e deep gill, such as you find on a smaller 
 scale in Yorkshire or Westmoreland, filled with snow, and the snow half 
 melted and frozen again, till the whole is reduced into large masses, 
 composed of little lumps of ice, about the size of a pigeon's egg ; or, to 
 speak more correctly, varying from the size of a pea to that of a hen'.> 
 egg, perfectly transparent in themselves, but forming a mass only imper- 
 
184 
 
 GLACIERS. 
 
 fectly translucent. The snow, still increasing on the mountain, and 
 throwing additional weight on this immense mass, pushes it bodily out 
 of the gill, and half across the more open valley ; so that what was at 
 first included in the hollow, being thus forced out beyond the line of the 
 hills, forms itself an inferior hill, while the gill behind, is filled up with 
 new matter of the same sort, continually pushing forward to supply the 
 waste below. This advancing hill of ice presents to us cliffs of ice at top, 
 then a slope of fragments of ice, and below that a bank of earth, covered, 
 here and there, with the pieces which fall from above. The weight of 
 snow pushes out, not only the ice below it, but a great deal of the soil on 
 which it lies, grinding it, as it proceeds, to powder; and hence the 
 streams issuing at the foot of a glacier are always muddy, while the 
 water on its surface is pure and transparent. At this glacier, the trees, 
 which had been overturned in its progress, still lay about at its foot ; 
 but those which were untouched by its mechanical action, did not appear 
 to be injured by the cold, and corn grew within a small distance. Part 
 of the slope was covered with sand, and many of the blocks seemed 
 mixed with sand. Where the ice is pure, it is shaded with the tenderest 
 gray, verging very little, if at all, towards green ; and it reflects a vivid 
 blue green, or perhaps a greenish blue, from the deep hollows. I found 
 several men stationed at the entrance to the glacier to offer their assist- 
 ance, but I already had a guide, and wanted nothing further, for the pas- 
 sage was by no means difficult. The middle is firm, and pretty even ; it 
 is only towards the edge that the deep fissures are usually found : the ice 
 is not so slippery as you would imagine ; and the sand, or some little in- 
 equalities, give tolerable foot-hold, but it felt very cold to the feet. I 
 ascended with my back to the setting sun, and turning to look again at 
 the glacier, after having crossed it, enjoyed a new spectacle, the sun 
 shining through the upper and thinner parts of the ice, and giving some- 
 times, by transmitted light, the same beautiful colour I had admired in 
 the reflected. This green or blue, is however, by no means general, 
 and it is equally difficult to say why it exists at all, and why, since it does 
 exist, there is not more of it. I observed here three sorts of light ; the 
 white of pure snow, the shining light, where the surface caught the rays 
 of the sun in a particular direction and reflected them to my eye, and 
 the transmitted light of the edges of the blocks ; and two series of shade, 
 the gray and the green; independent of that produced by impurities. 
 
MONTANVERT. 
 
 185 
 
 and of the patches of dark sand, which sometimes occur. The clouds 
 appeared quite purple against the glacier, yet that colour did not show 
 itself amongst them in any other direction; whence I conclude' that the 
 whole mass of the ice had somewhat of a greenish hue. 
 
 Fog, rain, and snow, were very inimical to my rambles about Chamou- 
 nix. I visited the source of the Arveiron, which issues from the foot of 
 the Glacier des bois, itself a continuation of the Mer de Glace. It exhi- 
 bited no picturesque accompaniments, but in a hot summer, it sometimes 
 forms for itself a magnificent arch in the ice. I thence climbed to the 
 Hospice on the Montanvert, 621 toises, or 3,980 feet above the inn at 
 Chamounix, almost the whole of which is in one rapid slope, mostly 
 covered with fir trees. In the upper part every thing was wet with the 
 half-melted snow ; and the fir trees were abundantly sprinkled with it. 
 The Mer de Glace was also covered with fresh snow ; but the Alpine 
 plants peeped forth from their white covering, seemingly very little af- 
 fected. The Aiguille de Dru rises immediately above the glacier, into 
 one of those sharp rugged points, of which no English or Scotch scenery 
 will give you any idea.* I do not know its exact height, but comparing 
 it with those that are known, it must rise in a broken pyramidal form, 
 nearly 5,000 feet from the surface of the ice. The Jorass rises in a 
 squarish form, furrowed with perpendicular lines, which were marked 
 with fresh snow. On the right, the rude and lofty Aiguille des Char- 
 meaux was lost in the clouds. In this view of the Mer de Glace, it is a 
 large, branched, winding valley, filled with ice and snow, the surface of 
 which is nearly horizontal, if the eye is directed on a line across the 
 valley ; but with a very irregular and broken descent, if applied on a line 
 along the valley. It seemed almost everywhere bordered by the Moraine ; 
 that is, by a heap of fragments which it pushes up in its progress. 
 
 I found only one name inserted in the Album at Montanvert on that 
 morning ; this was of a person who had arrived there by six o'clock, to 
 see the sun rise : he recorded that he was satisfied, but what he saw I 
 know not ; as from below, the whole atmosphere appeared at that time 
 to be filled with dense clouds. One other traveller had been there, for 
 I saw two descending the mountain as I went up, but he had not left his 
 name ; perhaps he was not satisfied. 
 
 * 1,422 toises, equal to 9,080 English feet above the sea. See Nouvel Itimraire des Val' 
 lees autour du Mont Blanc, par J. P. Picte, a useful little manual. 
 
 2 B 
 
186 
 
 WALK TO MARTIGNY. 
 
 The morning of Thursday, the 5th of September, was dark and wet ; 
 but the rain abating about ten, I proceeded towards Martigny, by the 
 Tete noire. The Col de Baume was enveloped in clouds, and offered me 
 no temptation to pass that way. The road I chose passed down Val- 
 orsine, where I was delighted with the luxuriant bushes of Rosa rubri- 
 folia, covered Avith flowers. The lower part of this valley is very beauti- 
 ful. It often happens in the Swiss valleys, that the descent is finer than 
 the ascent. At the upper part are a few noble masses, which remain 
 almost unchanged in appearance during a day's walk, while the lower 
 parts are frequently bounded with broken rocks, whose composition varies 
 at every stage of our progress ; and sometimes the vallies are so nearly 
 closed, that it is impossible to follow the stream, and we are obliged to 
 pass over the hills to find an exit : this is the case at Valorsine, and the 
 rocks and woods about the pass are magnificent and finely varied. There 
 is also a beautiful waterfall among the woods, plentiful in such weather 
 as I had, and still more so in hot dry weather, till the snows are melted 
 which supply it, a circumstance not likely to take place this year. The 
 spring rains bring down an immense quantity of water, by dissolving the 
 snows and ice of the winter ; but the wet which I experienced, became 
 itself snow in the upper regions of the Alps. We leave Valorsine and 
 ascend the vale of Trient, whose river gives its name to the united 
 streams, though the smallest of the two. This vale is narrow and deep, but 
 without any very fine features, except just where it unites with Valorsine. 
 
 The village of Trient is a dismal gloomy place, and the dark and dirty 
 little ale-house is perfectly in unison with the scenery.* The landlady 
 was goitrous ; I have seen many such persons, and when they are young 
 it only produces a plumpness in the lower part of the throat, which is 
 hardly disagreeable ; but as the disease increases, two unequal protube- 
 rances are produced, which at length become loose and skinny, and are 
 excessively disgusting. The people among the mountains are pale, and 
 seem unhealthy and inactive ; the women more so than the men. The 
 children have little vivacity ; and I have not seen a woman dancing an 
 infant, or giving it any exercise, either in Savoy or Switzerland. From 
 Trient I ascended the Forclaz. The valley, which descends thence to 
 Martigny, was completely filled with a cloud at some hundred feet below 
 me. The descent is long and tedious, but the upper part of the way is 
 
 * This was much improved in 1826. 
 
BEX. 
 
 187 
 
 adorned with noble pines and larches, particularly the latter. Some 
 enormous trees waved their wild branches over the road, in magnificent 
 style ; others, which had been broken by storms while yet young, as- 
 sumed the most irregular shapes ; but they were large trees, vigorous 
 and flourishing, and would have been capital subjects for the pencil. 
 About half way down, we emerged under the cloud, and saw the Vallais 
 stretched out beneath us ; but the stratum of vapour I had just passed, 
 prevented all view of the summits, and communicated a dull monotony 
 to the scene, which it probably would not have had in finer weather. 
 
 The next morning I left Martigny in the rain, which prevented me 
 from making any sketch of the old castle, part of which is said to be of 
 Roman work. A little farther, the Trient, which I had left yesterday to 
 ascend the Forclaz, passes between lofty precipices into the valley of the 
 Rhone, and lower down the Pisse Vache, a noble waterfall, descends close 
 by the road. These are too fine not to call forth our admiration under 
 any circumstances, but certainly I. should have enjoyed them more in 
 clear weather. The Vallais above Martigny seems to be bounded by 
 sloping mountains, without much variety; but from Martigny to the 
 Lake of Geneva, nothing can be more beautiful, or more finely varied. 
 It is curious to observe here the different characters of the vallies, de- 
 pendent on their direction. When the Arve runs from N. E. to S. W., 
 it is through a trough valley with sloping sides ; where it runs from S. 
 to N., or nearly so, it is through a defile with broken and precipitous 
 sides ; and where its course is from S. E. to N. W., it is through a com- 
 paratively wide and irregular basin. Nearly the same disposition is ob- 
 servable in the Isere ; and in the Vallais, the Rhone runs from the N. E. 
 along an immense trough valley, and turning short to the north at Mar- 
 tigny, with occasional bendings to the west, passes alternately through 
 wide defiles, with broken and precipitous sides, and small, irregular 
 basins. At St. Maurice the valley is very much contracted ; and here the 
 road crosses the river, and we enter the Pays de Vaud. At Bex it is 
 wider ; and perhaps this is the most beautiful part of this charming valley. 
 A hill almost covered with an open grove of chesnut trees, rises behind the 
 town, and the views from this are truly enchanting : below is a rich val- 
 ley and gentle slopes, cultivated with vines and maize, and well shaded 
 with trees. The lower eminences are frequently covered with groves of 
 chesnut, and a fine mass of oak spreads over one hill, which extends 
 
 2 B 2 
 
188 
 
 WALK TO ST. GINGOUF. 
 
 almost across the valley : above are woods of pine and larch ; higher up, 
 rocky pointed summits, and snow and ice. I continued over the lower 
 hills to the salt mines, which are about three miles from the town. The 
 supply is altogether from springs, as they have not yet met with the salt- 
 rock. The natural issue was at a considerable elevation, and the direc- 
 tors first endeavoured to follow from this point the course of the water. 
 Observing, however, that it came from below, a new work was com- 
 menced, which is now the great level, and nearly a mile in length ; and 
 this cut off the spring, 500 feet below its natural issue. Since this a still 
 lower level has been carried to the extent of 1,718 feet, and in this a well 
 has been sunk to the depth of 700 feet^ which is below the level of the 
 Lake of Geneva ; but the salt-rock is supposed to lie still deeper. If this 
 be fact, what a prodigious rise took place in the water of the original 
 spring ! No considerable quantity of water occurred in sinking the well, 
 but it oozes in at the sides from several places, and is so salt, as to 
 crystallize in the well. All the works are in successive strata of gypsum, 
 black carbonaceous limestone, and schist ; but the nearest summits are of 
 grauwacke ; no organic remains have been observed. This is the in- 
 formation I received on the spot, and having satisfied my curiosity, I re- 
 turned to Bex. 
 
 The next morning the rain was even more steady and incessant than 
 before ; yet I left the high road to cut across the marshes to the ferry 
 over the Rhone, and in so doing lost my way, and had to walk almost 
 in the water. I crossed the Rhone at Chessel. In winter, I am told 
 that the stream is bright and clear, but in summer always thick and 
 muddy, from the glaciers which supply it ; whereas at Geneva it always 
 leaves the lake pure, and of a deep blue. Thence I walked along the new 
 road to St. Gingouf Whatever faults Napoleon may have had, he was 
 certainly a capital road-maker ; and here, had his object been beauty, 
 instead of dry utility, he could not have chosen a finer line ; the lake and 
 its surrounding mountains are on the right ; on the left, lofty hills shaded 
 with chesnut trees, some of which are of the grandest size ; and here and 
 there the opening of a little valley exposes a pointed summit of the Alps. 
 A Russian countess had engaged the whole inn at St. Gingouf; but the 
 landlady very justly observed, that this order could not be understood to 
 include her own bed, and she gave that up to me. 
 
 In the morning I walked to Meillerie, where the road has been cut out 
 
LAUSANNE. 
 
 189 
 
 of the solid rock, and a wide and excellent road it is ; no contrivances or 
 make-shifts, but completely as it should be. An inconsiderable work of 
 this sort, well done, excites more pleasure than a much larger one imper- 
 fectly performed. In the first case the power shows itself superior to the 
 obstacle, and the mind is satisfied : in the latter the mind is not satisfied, 
 because we seem to feel the limits of the power employed. After view- 
 ing the rocks, I took a boat, and crossed the lake to Ouchy, and from 
 Ouchy walked to Lausanne, but the cloudiness of the weather injured the 
 prospect. 
 
 From Lausanne there are some very fine views over the lake, but a long 
 and almost unbroken hill opposite, in the Pays de Chablais, which in great 
 measure shuts out the higher Alps, is a displeasing feature. Yet with 
 this defect, there are few places in the world equal to Lausanne. Gibbon's 
 house offers nothing remarkable, excepting as a memorial of the Histo- 
 rian, I was rather surprised at the table d'hote, where several gentlemen 
 of the neighbourhood were present, that his name was unknown to them. 
 
 The cathedral at Lausanne is much superior to that of Geneva ; and 
 indeed may fairly be esteemed both a beautiful building, and an interest- 
 ing specimen of art. The nave alone is at present used, the remaining 
 part being under repair. I have met with no history of the building ; and 
 the woman who shews it, points out the tomb of a St. Bertrand who lived 
 in the tenth century, as that of its founder ; but this is not admissible. 
 
 The style of the building, without being precisely like any thing in 
 England, evidently classes with our early pointed architecture. It is 
 anterior not only to tracery and trefoil heads, but to the introduction of 
 roses in the upper part of the windows, and would with us be assigned 
 to about the year 1200. A comparison with French buildings would 
 induce me to place it in the first half of the twelfth century. The 
 piers, or pillars of the nave, are very whimsical, and almost every 
 pair is different. One pair is composed, each of two unequal columns, 
 the little one before the other ; yet the largest is only two feet four 
 inches and a half in diameter, with a height of twenty-four feet, and the 
 front one is no more than ten inches and a half in diameter, though as it 
 goes up to the springing of the vault, it must be fifty feet high. In an- 
 other pair, formed nearly in the same manner, modern improvers have 
 had the courage to cut away the smaller pillar, to make room for some 
 arrangements below. In another pair, each pier is composed of four co- 
 
190 
 
 CATHEDRAL AT LAUSANNE. 
 
 lumns, two large, and two small, entirely detached : the other piers are 
 rectangular, but with small shafts variously attached. The original de- 
 sign evidently provided for two western towers, and an octagonal lantern 
 at the intersection of the cross. One only of the western towers has been 
 erected. The lantern has been carried above the roof, but not completed, 
 and it is now covered with a make-shift roof of tiles, terminating in a 
 wooden spire : the octagon was not carried down to the ground, as at 
 Ely, but rests upon the four piers at the intersection of the cross. I 
 regret much that this is imperfect, as I have met with no example on the 
 continent of the original method of terminating this part, but it seems 
 certain that our great towers, or spires, were not usual. 
 
 There is in this church a very singular rose window, composed of a ca- 
 pricious combination of squares and circles, which I imagined at first to be 
 the freak of some architect of the seventeenth or eighteenth century ; but 
 my conductress assured me that it was ancient, and the painted glass 
 favoured her assertion. The southern porch is a curious structure, which 
 reminded me in some particulars of that of Chartres ; and I think it was 
 intended to be continued to a greater extent, and to form an open gallery, 
 as in that building. 
 
 The western porch also exhibits some striking peculiarities, and is one 
 of those anomalous productions to which it is difficult to fix a date ; but it 
 is certainly early Gothic : the external archway of this porch is a beau- 
 tiful little addition of the fifteenth century. 
 
 \ 
 
191 
 
 LETTER XIV. 
 
 TOUR IN SWITZERLAND. 
 
 Milan, 12/ A October, 1816. 
 
 I LEFT Lausanne in the diligence for Bern, on the 1 0th of September. A 
 long ascent leads us to the summit of the Jorat, 1,767 feet above the 
 Lake of Geneva ; but it was night, and I lost the prospect. We break- 
 fasted at Moudon at half past two in the morning. The day dawned 
 beautifully among woods of fir and oak, and the same sort of scenery con- 
 tinued to Fribourg, a city seated partly at the bottom, and partly at the 
 top of some sandstone cliffs, between which the river Saane takes a very 
 winding course. Beyond Fribourg I walked up some long hills, and 
 found the views singularly beautiful. The near ground is well varied, and 
 rich with woods intermingled with cultivation, like some of the best parts 
 of the weald of Kent and Sussex. Beyond this are more distant moun- 
 tains, while the extensive snows of the J ung Fran, and the steep pyra- 
 mid of the Schreckhorn, bound the horizon. On the other side we see 
 the Jura ; behind us are the mountains of the canton of Fribourg, and 
 those which formed the principal objects about the Lake of Geneva. We 
 arrived at Bern about noon. It is a regularly built city, in which the 
 foot-paths are under low arcades, taken from the ground floor of the 
 houses. Beneath these arches are the shops, but nothing belonging to 
 the dwelling-house or inn, till you have mounted to the first story. There 
 is a good table d'hote at the Falcon, where I was fortunate enough to 
 meet some old acquaintance, and to form some new ones, by which I 
 profited in the thoroughly wet day which succeeded my arrival. The 
 cathedral here is a building of the latter part of the fifteenth, or begin- 
 ning of the sixteenth century ; rather clumsily though richly decorated, 
 and presenting no features of much interest ; but the situation is admirable. 
 
 At the Museum at Bern are some of the best models I have seen of 
 the Swiss mountains. I suspect however, that nothing of the sort is very 
 exact in the mountain forms, and after all the observations which can be 
 made, it is hardly possible to refrain from mixing up a little imagination 
 
192 
 
 UNTERSEEN. 
 
 in the details.* All of them are made with a scale of heights, different 
 from that of lengths, which is another source of misconception. Another 
 object well deserving attention at Bern, is the Gymnasium. The chil- 
 dren at the public school are taught not only the exercises of the mind, 
 but also those of the body ; to swim, to jump, to climb, to ride ; a plan 
 which seems to me excellent, as giving a wholesome direction to that 
 restless activity of boys, which so often leads them first into mischief, and 
 then into vice. Not far from Bern is the establishment of M. Fellenberg 
 at Hofwyl, but the children were not there when I visited it ; and you 
 may find so much better accounts of the establishment than any I could 
 give, that I shall not obtrude upon you my hasty observations. 
 
 On Saturday about noon I took the diligence for Thun, a most delight- 
 ful ride through a fine cultivated country, bounded by some of the most 
 magnificent summits of the Alps. At Thun the nearer mountains rise 
 into importance, while the more lofty ones, though partially hidden, lose 
 nothing of their consequence. The next day I took a boat up the Thu- 
 ner See to Nieuhaus, whence I walked to Unterseen. This is a delight- 
 ful place; the town itself is extremely interesting, because it is com- 
 pletely Swiss. All the houses are of wood, with galleries and great pro- 
 jecting roofs. The situation is a level valley between two lakes, well 
 cultivated and shaded with fine trees ; mostly walnut. The Harder is a 
 noble crag, rising immediately above the plain ; all around are fine craggy 
 mountains shaded with wood, the lower parts of which are sprinkled with 
 cottages, and enlivened by cultivation ; and an opening in the range, 
 which forms the little valley of Zwey Liitschinen, exposes to the delight- 
 ed eye the vast mass of the Jung Frau, the beautiful pyramid of the 
 purest snow called the Silberhorn, and the craggy summit of the higher 
 Monch. The Hotel de Ville of Unterseen is in the inn. The landlord 
 procured me a lad to act as a guide, and to carry my parcels, for thirty 
 batzenf per diem, just half what had been previously demanded of me; 
 but he could speak only German, at which I hammer terribly. 
 
 We set out on a fine morning for Zwey Liitschinen, and thence pro- 
 ceeded to Lauterbrunnen. The first part of the walk is amazingly fine ; 
 
 * The model made by General Pfyfter at Lueerii may perhaps be an exception. One may 
 see, at the first glance, from the finely varied characters of the different mountains, how care- 
 fully nature has been studied. 
 
 t The batz is in value equal to about three halfpence, but it varies in the different cantons. 
 
LAUTERBRUNNEN. 
 
 193 
 
 the second still finer. It seemed impossible that after this there could be 
 any thing worth seeing in the way of mountain vallies, but 1 was very 
 much mistaken. The best notion I can give you of the valley of Lauter- 
 brunnen is, to tell you to magnify Gordale, and stretch it out into a valley 
 six or seven miles long ; put trees, hedges, and cottages below, fringe the 
 tops of the precipices with trees, and pour down a multitude of little wa- 
 terfalls. Of these the Staubbach and the Myrrenbach are the principal ; the 
 first falls 900 feet, and for two thirds of the way without touching the rock ; 
 the latter I should think quite as high, but it streams down like a lock of 
 dishevelled hair of the purest white. The next morning I ascended to the 
 top of the Staubbach, and to the foot of an upper fall ; and here standing 
 on a rock at the summit of the great fall, in a place however of perfect 
 safety ; I looked down into the deep contracted valley beneath, and saw one 
 of the smaller waterfalls entirely turned into a rainbow. I had no idea of 
 the presence of water there, except from the colours it produced. I then 
 continued my walk to Myrrem, one of the highest villages in Europe, 
 though not by any means the highest habitation. It is 5,156 feet above 
 the level of the sea. The Cure of Lauterbrunnen, at whose house I have 
 taken up my lodgings, pays it a visit every winter. I was at first sur- 
 prised at his chusing this time of year to visit his parishioners ; but he re- 
 minded me that in the summer, the men were dispersed in the chalets still 
 higher on the mountains. The path in winter is very dangerous, as the 
 little streams are frozen, and present inclined planes of ice which termi- 
 nate in the precipices overhanging the valley of Lauterbrunnen. At 
 Myrrem, the sun shines every fine day in the year ; at a hamlet beneath 
 it, they are three months without sun. Even at Lauterbrunnen in the 
 middle of September, the sun does not appear till past eight, and sets 
 about half past two. This walk gave me a fine view of the branch of the 
 Alps which divides the Vallais from the Oberland of Bern, some of the 
 highest and wildest in Switzerland ; and I had the pleasure of seeing, 
 though at a great distance, a considerable avalanche. I suppose the fall 
 could not be of much less than 1,200 feet, and it raised a cloud of snow 
 which at last obscured the whole mass of rock. Hardly half an hour 
 elapsed during the whole walk, in which I did not hear some smaller 
 ones, and I saw many ; but such an exhibition as this large one is of rare 
 occurrence. As they give no previous notice, the traveller has but little 
 chance of seeing them, till the sound of the first fall serves to direct him, 
 
 2 c 
 
194 
 
 ALP. 
 
 and of course the first burst is thus lost to the eye. My attention was 
 quite on the alert, and I marked a vast body of snow and ice on the 
 Ebene fluh which seemed almost suspended, and a dark line above indi- 
 cated that a separation had already taken place. I watched for some 
 time in hopes of seeing a most stupendous fall ; for there were, I dare say, 
 ten acres of snow and ice, and the middle of the mass was not less than 
 100 feet thick, — but I watched in vain. These avalanches are only from 
 one bed of snow to another, or on to ground kept naked by frequent falls, 
 and consequently do no harm. It is those formed of the snow of the pre- 
 ceding winter, and falling in the spring, on or near the cultivated ground, 
 which do so much mischief. They destroy all the hopes of the farmer, 
 and bury his cottage, or overturn and carry it along with them ; and even 
 sweep down the woods before them. The wind produced by them is said 
 to be so violent, as sometimes to throw down large trees, which are not 
 touched by the snow. Descending into the valley, I stumbled upon an- 
 other waterfall; perhaps the most beautiful of any, though less astonish- 
 ing. It is only about 120 feet high, and is therefore no subject of inte- 
 rest or admiration to the inhabitants, who see so many of much greater 
 elevation. 
 
 The next day I had another fine walk over the Wengern Alp to Grin- 
 delwald. The mountain tops were partially veiled in clouds, but there 
 was no uniform covering of mist, and the Silberhorn rose beautifully 
 above me in unsullied whiteness. Grindelwald is as different as possible 
 from Lauterbrunnen. On the north side, the hills rise in steep slopes, 
 thickly set with cottages, and divided into meadows by hedges mixed with 
 trees, to a considerable height, before the wild and craggy Alps begin. 
 The term Alp in Switzerland indicates a mountain pasture, as distin- 
 guished from a snowy mountain : the highest summits are consequently 
 never called Alps. Some of our travellers mention this as a corruption 
 of the word, but it has, I think, never been proved that it was not its pri- 
 mitive signification. The Blumlis (flowerless) Alp is agreed on all hands 
 to be a tract covered with perpetual snow, though tradition says it was 
 once the best pasture in Switzerland : it is not however agreed where 
 this Blumlis Alp was placed. Some give the name to a range of glaciers 
 above Lauterbrunnenthal, while others apply it to parts of those above 
 Kanderthal, because, they say, there is a more extensive tract very little 
 above the snow line, which renders the tradition more reasonable. The 
 name of Blumlis Alp in Keller's map is given to a point 11,370 feet above 
 
GRINDELWALD. 
 
 195 
 
 the sea, which never could have been Alp at all. For my part, if I may 
 not reject the story altogether as a fable, I should incline to adopt the 
 first opinion, because it has nothing but tradition to support it; while 
 there seems a reason for the invention of the second ; and it is very pos- 
 sible that some small spot above Lauterbrunnen, now covered with ice, 
 may once have been pasture. The lower glaciers are said to be all on the 
 increase, yet with one exception, (that of Bosson) they all bear evident 
 marks of having been at some period much larger than they are at pre- 
 sent, and similar changes may occur in the upper ones without supposing 
 any constant increase of snow and ice. 
 
 I have made a great digression from the description of Grindelwald, to 
 which I will now return. On the south side of the valley, three enor- 
 mous crags rise immediately into the region of perpetual snow ; the Wet- 
 terhorn, which is 11,720 feet high, the Mettenburg somewhat less, and 
 the Eiger 12,240. Grindelwald is 3,182 feet above the sea. It is not 
 perhaps quite the summit of these rocks that is visible, and there are 
 some hundred feet of slope at the bottom ; the rest is almost perpendi- 
 cular cliff, at least what appears such to the eye, whose height indeed 
 you may estimate, but whose effect you will find it difficult to imagine. 
 Between these three vast mountains are two glaciers, at one of which I 
 spent the morning in attempting to imitate its forms and colouring, in 
 company with two very agreeable young Englishmen, whom I met at 
 Grindelwald. On the 20th I returned down the valley to Zwey Liitchi- 
 nen, and thence to Unterseen. The walk was delightful, but that from 
 Unterseen to Grindelwald would have been still finer ; for in that case I 
 should have had the three great mountains successively before me : first 
 the Wetterhorn and the mountain behind it, the Hinter gletscher horn, 
 over the woods and rocks of the valley ; then the Mettenburg, and then 
 the Eiger; and after some interval the same objects in the opposite 
 order, with the accompaniments entirely changed. About a mile from 
 Unterseen is the castle of Unspunnen, which makes some figure in Swiss 
 history ; and near this, a spot whence one has the finest imaginable view 
 over both lakes. Each appeared enchanting ; the lake of Thun more 
 varied, but with the surrounding objects in shade, as I was looking 
 towards the sun ; the lake of Brientz, with its cliffs and woods in light, 
 more uniformly wild and savage. From Unterseen I walked to Miillinen. 
 What a country to ramble in ! Wherever one goes, some new object, some 
 
 2 c 2 
 
19G 
 
 WALK OVER THE GEMMI. 
 
 new mode of beauty delights us ; but language has little of the variety of 
 nature ; and the perpetual recurrence of lakes and streams, rocks and 
 mountains, woods and cultivation, and snow and ice, fatigues, instead of 
 exciting the attention. I made a diversion to the top of the Niesen, 7,310 
 feet in height : snow still lingered on the summit, but only in patches. 
 I expected a fine view of the Simmenthal and Kanderthal, but clouds ob- 
 structed the prospect. In the other direction, Bern and the Jura were 
 distinguishable at intervals, through openings in the thick bed of clouds 
 which lay before me. The next morning I proceeded up Kanderthal; 
 The clouds hung low upon the mountains, but now and then exposed the 
 waste of snow above me, and I saw enough to persuade me that Kander- 
 thal was well worth a visit, even after Lauterbrunnen and Grindelwald ; 
 and that its style of beauty, or of sublimity, is quite different from that of 
 those valHes. On the 25th I passed the Gemmi : the ascent is steep, but 
 not otherwise bad, and at the top is a public house, where I procured 
 some hot milk. The scenery is wild and dreary in the extreme, and the 
 natural melancholy of the place was heightened by the gloom of the wea- 
 ther. The Dauben See is a shallow and muddy pool at the top. I met 
 there a solitary Englishman, who was taking a wrong track ; my guide 
 set him right. He observed to me that there was something very sub- 
 lime in crossing the Alps alone in a snow storm, which in fact was then 
 coming on very heavily. T regretted afterwards that he had been set in 
 the right path, for there only wanted to complete the sublime, that he 
 should lose his way ; and there would have been no danger, since meeting 
 with the lake would have shewn him his error. The flakes of snow soon 
 hid him from my sight, and I shortly after arrived at the descent : but 
 what a descent ! It is impossible I can give you any idea of it. It would 
 be easier to make a road up the most inaccessible part of the wildest 
 mountain in England, than up the Gemmi. The inn-keeper at Lausanne 
 told me that the Gemmi was passable all the year ; and in fact the couriers 
 do pass it at all seasons, but it is extremely dangerous, and accidents fre- 
 quently occur. Last year there were six avalanches, and three couriers 
 lost their lives. These avalanches fill the road with snow, and the cou- 
 riers are obliged in some places to creep upon ledges of rock, half support- 
 ing themselves on the snow ; and sometimes to trust themselves entirely 
 to the snow over a precipice of six or eight hundred feet. It does not 
 appear that these accidents arise from negligence or ignorance ; but the 
 
SIMPLON. 
 
 197 
 
 men advance with full sense of their danger, and using every possible pre- 
 caution to avoid it. The road is cut out of the face of the precipice, and 
 in some instances completely into the rock. At this time of year there 
 is no danger ; yet I would not advise a person to undertake the descent, 
 whose head is apt to be giddy. After reaching the bottom I looked back, 
 and began to wonder where the path could be, or how it had been possible 
 to descend such a horrible precipice. 
 
 The company had nearly left the baths of Lotsch, and had I been a 
 few days later, I should have found the inn deserted, except by a single 
 individual, who is left to take care of the house, and to give shelter to any 
 stray wanderer. During the proper season, the invalids begin to resort to 
 the bath about five o'clock in the morning, and remain there four or five 
 hours, usually taking their breakfast while sitting in the warm water. At 
 eleven they dine, and afterwards return again to sit in the bath. At six 
 they sup, and go to bed at eight. How should you like this regimen ? 
 
 Next morning I walked down to Leuk, or Lotsch, where I breakfasted, 
 and hired a char a banc, Avhich took me to Brigg. The Vallais is a fine 
 valley, much narrower here than I had imagined from my view of it from 
 above Martigny : the mountains which bound it are steep slopes, the bot- 
 tom appears flat, and altogether, it wants variety ; yet it offers some beau- 
 tiful scenes, especially at the openings of the little vallies. The inhabi- 
 tants are esteemed to be lazy, dirty, and goitrous, and by far the most 
 licentious in Switzerland, but rather improving of late years. Till the road 
 over the Simplon was made, it was one of the most unfrequented parts of 
 the country, and it may serve as an encouragement to those who fear that 
 good roads and freer intercourse with their neighbours, will spoil the so- 
 briety and simplicity of the Swiss character. 
 
 On Friday morning I set off to cross this famous pass. A thick dark 
 bed of clouds covered the opposite mountains, and against them was re- 
 flected the finest rainbow I ever saw. The middle colours were repeated 
 seven times. The road is excellent, as good as any about London, but not 
 so wide ; and here and there the rubbish fallen down from above, has con- 
 tracted it perhaps to fifteen or eighteen feet, but this is a mere guess ; I 
 did not measure it. It is certainly a most noble work, but the scenery of 
 the ascent is not picturesque. It winds up sloping hills covered with 
 wood, and runs round the little vallies, hardly ever making a zig-zag upon 
 the face of the hill. The village of Simplon is about two leagues beyond 
 
198 
 
 VIA CRUCIS. 
 
 the summit. The republic of the Vallais is repairing the road, and there 
 is no indication of any intention to abandon it, nor do the inhabitants seem 
 to entertain the least idea that such a design could be entertained, 
 
 I slept at the village of Simplon, where I was told that it is always cold, 
 and certainly I found it so. The people were cleaner and honester, and 
 spoke better French than I had met with the preceding days in the Val- 
 lais. Next morning I resumed my walk towards Italy : the descent on 
 this side is highly romantic, but after winding among savage rocks and sub- 
 terranean passages, and looking against mountains crowned with snow, I 
 was delighted to come out of the confined pass at Dovedro, and find my- 
 self in a fertile valley full of corn-fields, vineyards, and villages. In one 
 part of this day's walk, I observed a quantity of snow which had fallen the 
 preceding winter, and being afterwards thickly covered with earth, was 
 sprinkled with vegetation. After this opening the valley again contracts 
 into another wild and rocky pass, though not with the frowning horrors of 
 the preceding : this leads into the comparatively open Val Ocella, one 
 league along which brought me to Duomo d'Ossola. 
 
 I have now left Switzerland, but I will not begin another subject with- 
 out a few general observations. The country churches are generally small 
 and poor buildings, each with a square tower at the west end, which termi- 
 nates in a high gable. They are, I believe, always of stone ; the cottages 
 always of wood. These latter are generally elevated on a stone basement 
 of six or eight feet in height. There are two stories below the roof, and 
 one in it. The wood-work is not painted all over, and sometimes not at all; 
 but there are frequently broad horizontal bands ornamented with paint- 
 ing, as well as with carving. The roofs span the long way of the building, 
 and project five or six feet all round ; they are consequently immensely 
 large ; and they are covered with shingles, or with slates. On one side, or 
 often on both, is a gallery under the shelter of the roof, and the whole of 
 this covered way forms an admirable place for drying flax, and sometimes 
 corn : the flax, by the bye, is dressed without steeping. 
 
 I did not find any building at Duomo d'Ossola to excite much attention. 
 There is a Via Crucis, that is, an ascent leading to a church or convent, on 
 which a series of chapels, representing the circumstances of our Saviour's 
 passion. Each chapel is here a small room filled with figures, carved in 
 wood and painted : as much light is admitted as will shew them distinctly, 
 and two or three holes are left, with gratings of wire, through which one 
 
WALK TO LOCARNO. 
 
 199 
 
 may peep to see the imagery. These things are very common in Italy, 
 but not all on so expensive a scale : the chapels are generally much smal- 
 ler, like watch-boxes, and are adorned only with a painting exhibited in 
 the same manner: sometimes they are mere arched recesses, to protect 
 the series of pictures. This history is not confined to the facts related in 
 the scriptures, but is heightened by tradition or invention. It is regularly 
 a part of the story, not only that our vSaviour himself carried the cross, 
 nearly if not quite all the way, but that he fell down under it three times ; 
 and the circumstance is improved, if we may use the methodist expression 
 in speaking of Roman Catholic superstition, by the inscriptions placed 
 underneath. Little stations of this sort are also frequent by the road- 
 sides, with a saint painted at the bottom of the niche. 
 
 From the top of the hill of the Via Crucis at Duomo d'Ossola, there is a 
 fine view of the flat circular valley, at the edge of which stands the town. 
 A considerable portion of this plain is covered by the enormous beds of 
 gravel and sand brought down by the mountain torrents. In other places 
 it appears rich and fertile, and the meadows are as green as in England. 
 
 The churches in this part of Italy have very high slender towers, co- 
 vered with a depressed pyramidal roof of red tiles, or sometimes with a 
 little cupola ; they are almost always white, and form a very striking and 
 ' characteristic feature in the landscape. 
 
 I dined at Duomo d'Ossola in company with a young Englishman, who 
 seemed to have been all over the world ; and afterwards, as we were talking 
 together in the balcony, he exclaimed, " Do you keep a pet scorpion ?" I 
 followed the direction of his eyes, and saw one of the largest size, crawling 
 on my right breast. I soon got rid of him, but I dare say I looked fifty 
 times at my waistcoat during the evening to see if any other had taken its 
 place : I have no conception how it came there. The room we were in 
 had been newly plastered, but we found another on the wall : they seem to 
 be dull, sluggish animals. 
 
 On Monday, 30th of September, I left Duomo d'Ossola, and crossing 
 the valley, great part of the way on beds of gravel covered with HippophcB 
 rliamnoides, mounted by a pleasant rocky defile to Val Vigezza. These 
 Italian vals are for the most part surrounded on three sides by mountains, 
 and on the fourth connected with the plain country by a deep ravine, 
 through which the waters are discharged. I should perhaps rather say se- 
 parated than connected, as it is only by a narrow track on the slope of the 
 
200 
 
 LAGO MAGGIORE. 
 
 mountain, that the communication is preserved ; and it has in some cases 
 been found easier to make the road across the mountain, than to carry it 
 through the defile. Val Vigezza occupies the highest part of the hollow, 
 and discharges its water both ways ; partly by the defile through which I 
 ascended, and partly by Cento Valli, where there is hardly any open space, 
 and where the views are fiiner than on the ascent, but which I should prob- 
 ably have admired more, if I had not just passed the grander and more im- 
 pressive scenery of the Simplon. I eat, and slept, at the house of the parish 
 priest in the little village of Borgnone, in the Swiss state of Ticino, and 
 the next morning continued my walk to Locarno. I did not fare very w^ell 
 on this road, probably from not being sufficiently aware of the manners of 
 the people, nor having learned to apply for food at the proper hours. In 
 all these remote places you must comply with the customs of the country; 
 it is too difficult a task to teach the inhabitants to accommodate themselves 
 to yours. 
 
 On Wednesday morning I walked to Ascona, and thence, along the 
 shores of the lake, to Canobio. The road near the villages is usually be- 
 tween two stone walls, with a trellis supporting the vines overhead. The 
 grapes within reach are whitewashed, apparently to prevent passengers 
 from eating them. In the remoter parts these precautions are omitted, 
 and the rude trellis, which supports the vines, rests on posts of granite or 
 mica slate ; but the trees and vines seldom permit an extensive view, 
 though the road is a continued succession of steep ascents and descents. 
 I became rather tired of this, and at Canobio hired a boat to take me down 
 the lake, and to the Borromean islands. The scenery improves as we de- 
 scend ; the mountains divide, and present more variety in themselves, as 
 well as give occasional views of higher and more distant summits. About 
 Intra, Palanza, and Laveno, it is particularly fine : the long continuous 
 range of mountains, forming the eastern shore of the lake, here ceases ; and 
 at the last mentioned place, and below it, we have only hills of moderate 
 elevation, covered with trees and cultivation, and terminating in steep 
 banks or little cliffs at the water's edge. The range on the western side 
 also ceases at Intra ; but there is a fine detached hill behind Palanza, and 
 mountains again occur of considerable height, beyond the bay which in- 
 closes the Borromean islands. Two rivers fall into the head of this bay : 
 their vallies are separated by a noble crag, and a long perspective of a suc- 
 cession of mountains, exposes the snowy summits of the higher Alps, 
 
LAGO MAGGIORE. 
 
 201 
 
 "which form a delightful contrast with the beauties of the nearer scenery. 
 There is one island near Palanza which commands this view better than 
 any other ; but it is seldom visited, because there is only a small villa upon 
 it. On the Isola Madre is a larger villa ; on another island (Isola Pes- 
 chiera) is a little village ; but the great object of curiosity is the Isola 
 Bella, where we see a magnificent villa of the Borromean family, in su- 
 blimely bad taste, both inside and out. There are however, some hand- 
 some rooms within ; and the profuse and extended scale on which art has 
 exerted itself, joined to a luxuriant vegetation, produces no small effect of 
 grandeur without. The views from it are most beautiful, both up and 
 down the lake, and up the bay. I landed at Stresa, and walked to Belgi- 
 rate, and thence to Arona. The lower part of the lake is quiet, and with- 
 out any of the sublime character of the upper, but still very beautiful ; and 
 points of cliff occasionally rise from the water. Arona is a very pictu- 
 resque little place, seated on a point at the foot of one of these cliffs. 
 On a hill above it is the statue of St. Charles Borromeo ; 66 feet high, on 
 a pedestal of above 30, so that the whole is about 100 English feet in 
 height. As 1 walked along the road below, the pedestal was quite lost ; 
 and the great priest, walking among the woods, which reach only to his 
 middle, and holding up his fingers in the act of blessing the people, had a 
 very singular effect. It is made partly of cast bronze, and partly of plates 
 of copper on timber framing, and the execution is very good. The views 
 from it are exceedingly fine. From Arona I crossed the lake to Ispra, 
 where the custom-house officers took it into their heads to examine my 
 little bundle, and then asked me for something to drink. From Ispra I 
 walked to Comerio, near the lake Varese. The entire change of scenery 
 had a pleasing effect ; instead of rocks and mountains, I was among gently 
 swelling hills, well cultivated with different sorts of grain, and shaded with 
 fine chesnut trees. The maize was nearly ripe : the barren flowers and the 
 upper leaves had just been cut off, that the juices of the plant might 
 all be directed to the seed. In some instances the heads of seeds had like- 
 wise been gathered and hung up to dry about the houses. Many of the 
 inhabitants were employed in beating down the chesnuts ; which were 
 large and good, like the Spanish chesnut; whereas among the mountains, 
 though great part of the wood is formed of chesnut trees, yet the fruit is 
 small, like what we have in England.* From Gavirate to Comerio, the 
 
 * It is, probably, this smaller chesnut which Mr. Rose has taken for horse-chesnuts, which as- 
 suredly do not enter into the conamon food of the Italians; indeed the tree is of rare occurrence. 
 
 2 D 
 
202 
 
 LAKE OF LUGANO. 
 
 and rises considerably, and there are extensive surfaces of white limestone, 
 containing beds of flint rather than chertz. Before me lay a great extent 
 of country of the same character as that which I had passed ; the Lake of 
 Yarese lying on the right ; to the left is the woody hill on whose slope the 
 road runs ; and behind are the distant mountains of Lago Maggiore, and 
 the still more distant snowy mass of Monte Rosa. My eye is so familiar- 
 ized to white tops, that I can hardly fancy any mountain high without 
 them, and something always seems wanting where they are not. As it 
 was meagre day, I could get nothing at the little inn but some small fish, 
 called Cavezzali, not much bigger than minnows, maccaroni, and an 
 omelet, but the fellow charged for my supper five francs, the usual price 
 to English travellers at the better inns in this part of Italy, and three for a 
 miserable bed. I gave him six francs, which I am told was twice as much 
 as I ought to have paid ; indeed he seemed perfectly conscious that it was 
 too much. I walked in this direction as far as Varese, and then turning 
 short to the left, soon found myself again among mountains, much broken 
 and varied, but not very high. The road lies so low and is so much shel- 
 tered, that we only see enough of the scenery to tantalize us ; but by the 
 deviation of a few yards, before the descent to Porto on the Lake of 
 Lugano, I enjoyed one of those delicious scenes which baffle all descrip- 
 tion, comprising every mode of rich and beautiful in landscape, set in a 
 frameof magnificent mountains. A man, who overtook me on the road, 
 asked me a louis for a boat to Lugano, then a napoleon, then eighteen 
 francs, as the least possible. I offered him five, which he accepted, and 
 seemed just as active and good humoured as if he had obtained his whole 
 demand. 
 
 The Lake of Lugano is very beautiful, and very different from Lago 
 Maggiore ; yet I despair of making you perceive the difference. The 
 mountains are rugged and abrupt, generally rising from the water s edge; 
 but at the bottom of each of its six bays, they recede, and leave cultivated 
 vallies. The lower part of the slopes is covered with vines and olives, 
 and spotted with villages wherever they are not too steep to admit of it ; 
 in other places they are clothed with wood, and the upper parts are all 
 woody, except where the perpendicular rocks prohibit vegetation. Two 
 of the crags, San Salvadore and Valsolda, are particularly fine. Lugano 
 is a nice little town with an excellent inn : it is celebrated for one of the 
 best newspapers on the continent. The women here (and the fashion is 
 common through the north of Italy,) form a sort of star of pins, in fasten- 
 
LAKE OF COMO. 
 
 ing the hair at the back of the head, which is a very conspicuous and not 
 ungraceful ornament. 
 
 A boat belonging to Porlezza was at Lugano ; I engaged it for four 
 francs. The olive-trees here are not pollards, like those of the south of 
 France, nor collected together into olive-grounds ; but graceful trees of a 
 gray green, scattered among the yellow vineyards, and contrasting with 
 the warm hues of the chesnut. They are entirely confined to the lower 
 and more sheltered parts of the hills : the colour is perhaps, rather dull ; 
 nevertheless they are, to a northern eye, a beautiful novelty in the land- 
 scape. From Porlezza I walked to Menaggio, by a delightful path be- 
 tween mountains ; and a charming little lake (Lago di Piano) occurs in the 
 way : all was sweetness and repose. The first view over the Lake of Co- 
 mo is still finer than that I enjoyed of the Lake of Lugano. Some boat- 
 men accompanied me, to persuade me to go to the top of the lake, for 
 which one of them asked me a louis. I offered him seven francs, at which 
 he burst into a laugh, declaring it was quite ridiculous to think of doing 
 it for so little ; but it was afterwards accepted by him and his companion ; 
 so you see what sort of people I have to deal with ; and in the inns it is 
 nearly the same. The next morning, accordingly, I set out on this expe- 
 dition : the head of the Lake of Como is much more broken than that of 
 Lago Maggiore, and presents some stupendous crags ; in each lake, how- 
 ever, the middle is the finest part. There is, perhaps, nothing on the 
 Lake of Como equal to the view up the bay of the Borromean islands, 
 on the Lago Maggiore ; yet there is greater variety, and on the whole, 
 greater beauty ; indeed the scenes about Menaggio and the opposite shore 
 are exquisitely fine. We caught some Agomi on our return ; these are 
 small fishes, little larger than our bleak, and much resembling them in 
 appearance. On being taken out of the water, the colours change very 
 beautifully. They are sold here at thirty sous the pound of thirty ounces, 
 and are very good eating. The next morning I resumed my walk ; every 
 step was beautiful ; and yet, to say the truth, I got tired of passing con- 
 tinually through rich vineyards and noble groves of chesnut, with the 
 lake eternally spread out on the left. From Caretti I crossed the lake 
 to see the Yilla Pliniana ; a house built absolutely in the water, at the foot 
 of a steep mountain. Behind it, there is a celebrated intermitting spring, 
 which I believe diminished a little while I was there, but so little that I 
 could hardly be certain of it. It is said to ebb and flow three times a day, 
 
 2 D 2 
 
204 
 
 LAKE OF COMO. 
 
 but at uncertain intervals ; in rainy weather the quantity of water increases 
 very much. Just by there is a waterfall, which the Cicerone estimated at 
 300 feet, and I at half that height, but in dry weather there is but little 
 water. Since I have crossed the Alps, the weather has been fine and 
 warm, and the first feelings of summer have been accompanied by the 
 symptoms of approaching winter. The leaves had not begun to fall in 
 Switzerland, but in Italy I found them strewed abundantly on the ground. 
 I left this desolate villa, and returned to the little public-house at Caretti, 
 where there was a tidy little bed-room, a very fair dinner, and moderate 
 charges. 
 
 On Thursday morning I walked to Cernobio, where at last, the moun- 
 tains begin to open. The Princess of Wales has purchased a villa here, 
 and I believe, added to it considerably. There are twenty-one windows 
 in front, on the principal Hoor ; but in Italy this is not reckoned very large. 
 Curiosity prompted me to apply for admittance, but it was refused. 
 Bread here is eighteen French sous per pound : wages in agriculture, 
 three lire per diem. The Milanese lira is about two-thirds of the French. 
 My landlord attributes to the high price of bread, the robberies which 
 are sometimes heard of in these parts. Whatever there might be of ro- 
 mantic in being robbed by a horde of picturesque banditti, it would be 
 altogether flat and disagreeable, to be knocked on the head by distressed 
 peasants : however, it does not appear that any thing of the sort is fre- 
 quent. On the surface of a large plain, the distant objects seem crowded 
 together , but as you approach, they separate, and you find ample space 
 between them : thus it is with these robberies. To you in England ; 
 France, Germany, and Italy, are all crowded together ; and in these dis- 
 tant events, time as well as space is very much lost ; when you come 
 here and find that only one robbery has happened in six months, the dan- 
 ger does not seem very alarming. The south-western branch of the 
 Lake of Como, like the upper part of Lago Maggiore, is inclosed by 
 hills too uniform and unbroken to be altogether pleasing. 
 
 Como boasts a large and curious cathedral of the middle ages, but I 
 did not find it out till it was too dark to make any particular observations 
 upon it ; and early the next morning I got into the diligence and came to 
 Milan, of which I shall not, at present, attempt any description. 
 
 4 
 
205 
 
 LETTER XV. 
 
 MILAN. 
 
 Milan, 2'3rd October, 1816. 
 
 I BEGIN my account of this city with its celebrated cathedral, or duomo, 
 as the Italians call it ; for that word has no relation to what is called a 
 dome in England, but in coming to us, has travelled as far from its origi- 
 nal meaning, as from its original place The emperor Joseph the Second 
 reproached the Visconti with having transformed a mountain of money 
 into a mountain of marble; such a remark from Vienna is too bad. It is 
 said to have been designed by a German architect, of the name of Henry 
 of Gamodia or Zamodia, but this does not sound very much like a German 
 name ; and what proof there is even of the existence of such a person I 
 do not know : the original account of the expenses of the edifice makes 
 no mention of him. Other authorities (says the Guide de I'Hiariger dans 
 la ville de Milan) claim the honour for Mario di Campileone, native of a 
 little village near Lugano. Be that as it may, the character of the build- 
 ing is rather of the German than of the Italian Gothic, though some par- 
 ticulars of the latter are distinguishable. 
 
 The present building was founded in 1385, by order of John Galeazzo, 
 first duke of Milan. He died in l i02, and it is probable that most of the 
 old work was performed during this interval. The church was not how- 
 ever consecrated till 1418, when the ceremony was performed by Pope 
 Martin V. About the middle of the sixteenth century, St. Charles Bor- 
 romeo undertook to complete the edifice, and employed Pellegrini to de- 
 sign a suitable front. This architect is said to have conceived the idea 
 of so engrafting upon Gothic, the beauties of Grecian architecture, as to 
 make an harmonious whole out of the discordant materials. If such were 
 his endeavours, we need not wonder that he did not succeed. A part 
 only of his design was executed by the direction of Cardinal Frederic 
 Borromeo, the cousin and successor of St. Charles in the archbishoprick 
 of Milan ; and this part has been suffered to stand, although the comple- 
 tion of the rest of the facade in a style imitated from the Gothic, has 
 served to make its utter discordance with the rest of the building, much 
 
206 
 
 CATHEDRAL AT MILAN. 
 
 more obstrusive. The central column and spire were added by Brunel- 
 leschi, for Philip, the son of John Galeazzo, who reigned from 1412 to 
 1447. The present front is by a modern architect of the name of Amati ; 
 both having shewn by these additions, their want of skill in Gothic archi- 
 tecture. 
 
 Separating the old work from its injudicious additions, and considering 
 it only as a portion of an unfinished building, the exterior is very rich 
 and very beautiful, with its parts well composed and well combined. The 
 pinnacles rise gracefully from the general line, and are richly ornamented 
 with subordinate pinnacles and statues ; the material is a white marble, 
 and the workmanship is very good. One may imagine what a sump- 
 tuous edifice it would have been, with two lofty western towers, and a 
 light and highly decorated lantern in the centre. The Italian architects 
 indeed have not generally adopted the western towers. The design below 
 would be more in their usual taste, but in a building of so intermediate a 
 style, it is difficult to say which was intended. 
 
 That an architect in Italy, where the pointed style is considered as un- 
 worthy of serious attention, should think, in restoring Gothic architec- 
 tecture, that he could improve it by approximating its mouldings and or- 
 naments to those of the Roman, is not wonderful ; but it is remarkable, 
 that abstractedly from their want of suitable character, the modern orna- 
 ments are poorer in design than the ancient, and inferior in execution. At 
 present, the ancient part of the lantern is surmounted by a slender 
 steeple, whose outline is that of a column supporting a spire : this, as I 
 have already said, was added by Brunelleschi ; and it is astonishing, that 
 living so nearly in the time of the Gothic architects, he should have been 
 so deficient in understanding the character of their architecture. The 
 front is a mere triangle, and excessively poor. The artists, among them, 
 have contrived to produce a Gothic building, of which the outline, when 
 
 ♦ 
 
CATHEDRAL AT MILAN. 207 
 
 contemplated as a simple mass without the details, is everywhere displeas- 
 ing. Another remarkable circumstance is the want of apparent size. That 
 it does not look very high (although the head of the figure which crowns 
 the spires is 360 feet from the pavement,) may perhaps be attributed to its 
 actual magnitude ; yet in the distant view, where the lower part of the 
 building is lost, it does not suggest the idea of a lofty edifice ; and the 
 front, although extending 200 feet, almost looks little. Perhaps this may 
 arise in some degree from the style of the Italian houses, which are so 
 much larger and loftier than ours. 
 
 The following are the principal dimensions of the building : 
 
 
 Braccia. 
 
 Eng. Ft.^ 
 
 ' In. 
 
 
 248 
 
 
 4 
 
 
 96 
 
 ... 177 
 
 3 
 
 
 118 
 
 
 
 Ditto, including the chapels , . . . 
 
 146 
 
 ... 283 
 
 10 
 
 Width of transept and of choir . . . 
 
 64 
 
 
 
 
 4 
 
 
 
 
 4 
 
 
 
 Height of the nave 
 
 78 
 
 . . . 151 
 
 11 
 
 
 50 
 
 
 
 
 40 
 
 
 
 To the summit of the cupola . 
 
 112 
 
 
 
 To the top of the lantern . , 
 
 127 
 
 
 
 
 To the top of spire and statue , 
 
 183 
 
 
 
 
 There are fifty-two piers, ninety-eight pinnacles, and inside and out, four 
 thousand four hundred statues. 
 
 Pellegrini's plan was to place ten Corinthian columns in front ; but to 
 judge from what is done, and from the three stories of windows of un- 
 equal elevation, he could hardly have proposed to unite them in a simple 
 portico. The mouldings and ornaments were all of Roman architecture. 
 Of this design, the columns were never erected, but the five doorways, and 
 as many windows over them, are preserved as parts of the present compo- 
 sition. Two other windows of this design are concealed by Gothic tracery. 
 
 * These measures are reduced from some in French feet; those in Braccia agree so little 
 with them, that I thought it better to give both. The Milanese Braccio is about 23,^ Eng- 
 lish inches. 
 
208 CATHEDRAL AT MILAN. 
 
 The remainder, which is only just finished, is imitated from the old 
 work ; but the architect, by Grecising the ornaments, and cutting the up- 
 right mouldings, has failed as signally in the details, as in the general com- 
 position. 
 
 The first particulars which strike you on passing to the interior, are, 
 that it is dark and gloomy, and that the leading lines are very much in- 
 terrupted by the shrines introduced in the capitals of the piers, which in- 
 jure also the apparent solidity of the building. And if you are told that 
 it is nearly 500 feet long, 180 feet wide, and 150 feet high, you can 
 hardly believe it. Indeed, as to the last dimension, I still remain incre- 
 dulous ; for whether I estimate the height by a general comparison with 
 the other dimensions, or from summing up the estimated heights of the 
 different parts which compose it, or from counting the steps which lead to 
 the outside, and measuring some of them, it seems to me to fall short of 
 140 ; and it is necessary to be aware that the side aisles are 96 feet in 
 height, to be reconciled even to that supposition. I do not know to what 
 to attribute this want of apparent magnitude : the height of the side 
 aisles certainly diminishes the appearance of that of the nave ; but the 
 width of the nave is not remarkably great in proportion to the other di- 
 mensions. At Amiens, this is 45 feet 6 inches. In York, our largest 
 cathedral, it is 47 ; here it is about 55. In company with some other 
 English gentlemen, I listened to a sermon there last Sunday : we did not 
 hear very distinctly, but we probably lost something from our want of 
 sufficient familiarity with the Italian language ; for the people around us 
 appeared to hear and comprehend, and they were very silent and attentive ; 
 the preacher was an old man, and the voice did not seem very clear or . 
 strong. According to Mr. Saunders, (Treatise on Theatres) the articu- 
 lations of an ordinary human voice, are only heard distinctly to about the 
 distance of eighty feet, and we were above seventy from the speaker. I 
 had no conception of the distance till I came to calculate it. 
 
 With all these defects however, and with some feeling of disappoint- 
 ment from having heard so much of this building, it was impossible not 
 to acknowledge the sublime effect of the interior. The style does not 
 correspond with any of our English modes of pointed architecture. The 
 vaulting is simple, Avithout any branching ribs, or any ridge piece ; it is 
 so much supervaulted, that each bay appears to be the portion of a dome ; 
 and the disposition of the materials in concentric circles, or in portions of 
 
CATHEDRAL AT MILAN. 
 
 209 
 
 such circles, makes me believe that this is nearly the case. The windows 
 of the clerestory are extremely small and insignificant ; those of the side 
 aisles are long and narrow. They are ornamented with quatre-foils : but 
 a division of the height into two parts by arched ribs, which have not 
 precisely the effect of transums, because they do not cross the window at 
 the same level, indicate a very different period of taste from that of the 
 rose and quatre-foil heads in France and England. The lower part of 
 the capitals has something of the running foliage of the fourteenth 
 century in England ; but the shrine work, which forms their upper part, 
 is perfectly unique ; at least, I know nothing parallel, either in the work 
 itself, or in the manner it is here introduced. The bases and the plans of 
 the pillars are equally anomalous, and I think any person would be 
 baffled in attempting to determine the date from the architecture ; only he 
 might safely decide that it could not be very early. The smallness of the 
 upper windows produces a gloomy appearance, and oppressive feeling, like 
 that of the cavern style of architecture in the south of France, with which 
 it has nothing else in common. The height of 78 feet, which is that 
 of the lower range of aisles, seems indeed to give plenty of room for the 
 admission of an ample quantity of light from this part alone, but such a 
 disposition seldom produces a pleasing effect. There are three fine large 
 windows in the polygonal end of the choir, but even these are ill placed, 
 and have little effect. A few days ago I went into the cathedral late in 
 the evening ; there was just light enough to enable me to walk about 
 without striking the pillars, or running against any other persons in the 
 church ; but not enough to distinguish at any distance, those who were 
 scattered about on their knees in various parts, or who were mumbling 
 their prayers, or sleeping on the benches. In a small church the num- 
 ber of persons thus engaged would have appeared considerable, but here 
 they hardly seemed to interrupt the solitude of the place. There was no 
 noise ; every one was perfectly silent. A few glimmering lamps feebly 
 exhibited the altars at which they were placed, but diffused no general 
 light in the church. In these circumstances the painted windows lost 
 their colour ; they were merely parts of the edifice lighter than the rest, 
 and served to show that the deep gloom around was that of the building, 
 and not that of night. What the extent of that building might be, either 
 in length, breadth, or height, was left to the imagination. What is it, in 
 such a scene, that so powerfully impresses the mind ? There was no 
 
 2 E 
 
210 
 
 ST. GOTHARD. 
 
 danger ; if there had been, the impression might have been stronger, but 
 it would have ceased to be accompanied with pleasure. Even without 
 the sentiment of danger, I believe many persons would find the effect of 
 such circumstances, rather oppressive, than agreeable : for myself, I am ra- 
 ther exhilarated than depressed by gloom, while a strong light disturbs and 
 depresses me, and seems inimical both to reflection and enjoyment. 
 
 The roof of this edifice is covered with slabs of marble. It is every- 
 where accessible, and is a fine place on which to ramble about undis- 
 turbed, and examine the details of the architecture ; or turning our eyes to 
 more distant objects, to survey the wide extended plain of fertile Lom- 
 bardy, and the long continued ridges of the distant Alps. Even at this dis- 
 tance (near eighty English miles) I never contemplate the splendid summit 
 of Monte Rosa, without a new impression of its stupendous magnificence. 
 
 The Guide de Vetranger points out many churches besides the cathe- 
 dral as deserving notice, and I have made a little tour to such as ap- 
 peared from the description, the most interesting ; but very few presented 
 any thing to detain me beyond the first glance. They are not in general 
 beautiful, either on the inside or the out ; but we meet with some happy 
 effects. As antiquities, most of them have lost their interest by being mo- 
 dernized, particularly the inside ; and this seems to have been done very 
 much at one period, probably about the time of St. Charles Borromeo. 
 
 The steeple of St. Gothard, built in 1336, is a curious specimen of that 
 age ; it is of brick, except the little shafts which decorate it, and these are 
 of stone. The four lower stories appearing above the roof of the church, 
 are plain octagons, with unequal faces, with a row of ornamental intersect- 
 ing arches to each cornice, and a shaft or bead at each angle, which inter- 
 rupts all the cornices. There is a little window in the lowest but one, but 
 it appears to have been broken through at a later period ; the fourth has 
 on each face, a window divided into two parts by a little column, and 
 each part finishes in a small semicircular arch. This sort of arrangement 
 occurs in the early architecture of France, of the eleventh, and perhaps of 
 part of the twelfth century, but I think not later. In the fifth story, the 
 angular shafts receive their capitals, and unite with other shafts on the 
 faces of the octagon to support a series of little arches ; but as the 
 angular shafts intersect the little cornices of each story, and consequently 
 pass beyond the upright of the plain faces, while the intermediate 
 shafts are within that line, the latter are broken into two heights. 
 
IRON TIES. 211 
 
 one projecting before the other. Over this are two stories, rather 
 smaller than those below, and forming an equal sided octagon ; and above 
 all is a spire, cut to indicate scales or shingles, terminating in a globe, and 
 a little winged figure supporting a weathercock. I have* dwelt more 
 fully on these details, because they so strongly distinguish the Lombard 
 buildings, from similar edifices of the same period in France or England ; 
 and because also they shew the necessity of a new system of dates, when 
 we would determine the epoch of a building by the peculiarities of its ar- 
 chitecture. Though built in the fourteenth century, it exhibits more of 
 what we call Norman than of the Gothic ; and perhaps the Italians never 
 entirely abandoned that mode of building for any consistent style, till the 
 restoration of the Roman architecture in the fifteenth century, under 
 Brunelleschi. There are several steeples at Milan of this sort, but this is 
 the best. It was highly extolled by contemporary writers ; and it derives 
 some additional interest from having contained the first clock which ever 
 sounded the hours. In the earliest buildings of this kind, there are no 
 intersections in the little ornamental arches of the several cornices : the 
 later the edifices, the more complicated is this decoration, and in the stee- 
 ple of St. Gothard, some of them are composed of four series of interwoven 
 semicircular arches. 
 
 The Milan Guide says, that the church of the Passione is one of the 
 handsomest in Milan ; I found it very large and very ugly. Near to it is 
 a shabby little church, I know not to whom dedicated, which struck me 
 as giving the outline of what perhaps, ought to have been the composition 
 of the cathedral ; a large octagonal lantern at the intersection, and at the 
 west end two towers rising considerably higher than the lantern. Under 
 every disadvantage, the experiment proves the excellence of such an ar- 
 rangement. 
 
 In all the churches of Milan, in whatever style, the arches are retained 
 in both directions by iron bars. One would think it a point of taste with 
 the Milanese, if that were possible, and indeed the Milan Guide does 
 speak of it as one of the valuable inventions of modern times. A large 
 tie-beam, generally gilt, is also seen to the arch which opens into the choir ; 
 
 2 E 2 
 
212 MADONNA DI S. CELSO. 
 
 and upon the tie-beam a crucifix, and over that a canopy of crimson silk, 
 or velvet ; nothing can be worse in point of taste, but it is curious, as ex- 
 hibiting the probable origin of the rood-lofts of our own cathedrals 
 
 Many ofS^he churches at Milan lay claim to a high antiquity ; but as I 
 have already observed, they have been generally modernized. That of 
 the Madonna near San Celso, was built towards the close of the fifteenth 
 century. The architecture has been attributed to Bramante, and to So- 
 lari, a Milanese, while the font is the design of Galeazzo Alessi, who was 
 not born till about the year 1500. It exhibits no trace of Gothic archi- 
 tecture ; unless it should be contended that the general distribution of a 
 Christian church, even of the present day, is borrowed from that style. 
 The entrance is from a court surrounded by arcades, which has a very 
 elegant appearance. Courts of this sort are said to have been frequent 
 appendages to the early Basilican churches. It is surprising that they 
 have not been introduced more frequently, for they add a dignity to the 
 building, by seeming to separate it from the bustle of the world ; and they 
 rather enhance than diminish the effect of the architecture, by limiting the 
 point of view. The edifice is of marble, and both the court and the inte- 
 rior of the church are well proportioned, and produce a pleasing impres- 
 sion, though the details are bad. 
 
 The little church of San Satyro, still exhibits some of the architecture 
 of the ninth century. It is a mere fragment, of no great interest, except 
 as it serves to prove that the taste of that period was very much like that 
 which we call Norman, with capitals more nearly resembling the ancient 
 Corinthian ; but I could not trace any thing of the Beautems de Rome, 
 which is said to characterize this edifice. 
 
 The church of St. Eustorgio deserves a passing glance ; the outside is 
 of brick, probably of the thirteenth century, as in 1220 it came into the pos- 
 session of the Dominicans ; the inside has been modernized, but it contains 
 some interesting tombs of the Visconti, and of the early restorers of Greek 
 literature in Italy. Here also they pretend to shew the marble sarcophagi 
 of the three wise men — kings they are pleased to call them, who followed 
 the star of our Saviour from the East. An archbishop is said to have 
 brought the bones from Asia to Milan in the fourth century ; and Frede- 
 ric Barbarossa in the twelfth, seized and carried them to Cologne. 
 Prester John, who it seems valued himself on his descent from these 
 kings* (query from all ?) sent here some offerings to their relics in the fif- 
 
S. AMBROGIO. 
 
 •213 
 
 teenth century, and these have also been carried to Cologne. The guide- 
 book vouches for the latter part of the story, though it acknowledges 
 that the bodies or bones of the Magi were never here ; for my part I 
 vouch for nothing, but leave you to accept or reject what you please. 
 
 Next to the cathedral, the most interesting church in Milan is certainly 
 that of St. Ambrose, or perhaps many might put it in the first place. It 
 is said to be the very church which that saint closed against Theodosius 
 after the massacre at Thessalonica, in 390. They even pretend on the 
 spot, to shew you the identical doors ; but the more probable opinion is, 
 that these doors are of the ninth century, made by order of the Arch- 
 bishop Anspert ; they are covered with a profusion of carving in figures 
 and foliage, but the wire-work added to protect them almost hides the 
 detail. The most ancient part of the building which presents any cha- 
 racter of architecture, is probably of the same period, though one would 
 not venture to deny that some remains of the original church of St. Am- 
 brose may still exist. The court in front is acknowledged to be of the 
 ninth century, and the church exhibits very much of the same style of art. 
 This court is a parallelogram surrounded by arcades, having three arches 
 at each end and six on each side. The walls abound with fragments of 
 inscriptions, and one or two curious tombs are built up in them, particu- 
 larly a large rude sarcophagus of Paganus Petrasanta, captain of the Flo- 
 rentines, who died in 800, and at whose funeral four cardinals were pre- 
 sent. Considerable vestiges of the old painting in stucco remain on the 
 wall, but the subject is no longer discernible. This stucco must have 
 covered up the inscriptions, unless indeed they have been recently inserted. 
 On the side of the court next the church, is a second story of arches of 
 unequal heights, surmounted with a gable, the sloping line of which is 
 enriched by little ornamental semicircular arches, some formed on the slop- 
 ing line entirely, some with a little perpendicular appendage, and some 
 
 springing on horizontal lines ; nor need you be surprised at this diversity, 
 since a similar irregularity of disposition has been observed in the modil- 
 
214 
 
 S. AMBROGIO. 
 
 lions and dentils of the pediments in Roman architecture. These little 
 arches run round the cornice of the court, and are almost the only orna- 
 ment it has. The piers, which support the arches of the court, are formed 
 each of two half columns attached to an oblong pillar ; they are of stone, 
 and have rude leafy capitals, with hardly any projection. The upper 
 arches, and the central lower arch next the ciiurch, have the archi volts of 
 stone, rudely, but richly carved ; every thing else is of brick. It appears 
 from this description, that there is nothing in the details of the design, 
 or in the execution of this little court, to demand our admiration ; and yet 
 it is exceedingly beautiful, from the mere simplicity and harmony of the 
 general disposition. The tower is a square brick building, the panels of 
 which are marked by little shafts of stone, and finish at the top in rows of 
 ornamental arches without intersections. The inside of the church was 
 originally divided on the plan, into square portions, each division having 
 two semicircularly arched openings on each side, on the ground, and two 
 above to the gallery ; and a vaulting of semicircular groined arches. The 
 two first squares remain in this state, but the third has two pointed groins 
 springing from a lower point ; the strong ribs which separate the squares, 
 unite likewise in a point. The fourth square is that of the lantern, which, 
 from the external appearance, is probably an addition of the thirteenth 
 century ; within, it is entirely modernized. There is no transept. The 
 parallel walls of the building continue a little beyond the lantern, and the 
 building terminates in an ancient niche or apsis. 
 
 None of the churches here have that elevation of the middle above the 
 sides, to which we are accustomed in our Gothic edifices ; there is at 
 most only room for a range of small windows above the arches of the 
 aisles, and sometimes, as in the present example, not even for that ; they 
 are consequently much lower in proportion to their dimensions on the 
 plan, but they may help to show, that beauty is not confined to one scale 
 of proportion, as two or three of them produce a very pleasing effect, and 
 amongst others, S. Arabrogio is good in this particular. Yet I rather ima- 
 gine, that it requires a practised eye to be able to judge of this propor- 
 tion, and to be pleased with it, when the building taken as a whole is 
 faulty ; and that a man of good taste, not accustomed to analyze the com- 
 position, is very likely to condemn the church as he finds it, proportion 
 and all. At my first visit the last rites were celebrated to one who had 
 been an abbot. The church was hung with black tapestry ; but broad 
 
S. AMBROGIO. 
 
 215 
 
 borders of gold and silver tissue, covered nearly as much space as the 
 black. The Italians seem unable to bear the gloom of entire black, and 
 choose to introduce something of gaiety and splendour, even in their fu- 
 nerals. The pall was of white satin, embroidered with coloured flowers, 
 and the mitre and crosiers were laid over it on the coffin. Although it 
 was mid-day, the church was lighted up with multitudes of wax candles, 
 and a man dressed entirely in scarlet, stockings included, walked from 
 one to the other, to collect the wax which guttered down from them. 
 Each candle seemed composed of four stuck together, which 1 apprehend 
 to be very well calculated to make the wax run down, and as this is, I 
 believe, a perquisite of some of the inferior officers, it may really be an 
 object. One candle was neglected, and an old woman interrupted her 
 prayers, to pick up a fine lump of wax, which fell down from i ; her cau- 
 tious look round, to see that no one belonging to the church observed 
 her, shewed that she felt she was stealing ; but I suppose the moral 
 sense of the poor in Italy is hardly high enough to condemn with seve- 
 rity, petty thieving, or petty cheating. In the churches of France, 
 I used to find more women than men ; I think in Italy, or at least in 
 Milan, the men are more numerous than the women. All seem very devout, 
 and are very silent. 
 
 To return to the architecture of the church. The choir has been mo- 
 dernized, except the apsis, which is ornamented with mosaics represent- 
 ing our Saviour, and with saints and angels. It is said to have been ex- 
 ecuted by Greek artists in the tenth century ; the pieces of the mosaic are 
 formed of a thin lamina of gold, or metal, laid on a thick die of glass, and 
 covered with a very thin plate of the same material, and the whole united 
 by exposure to heat. In a little chapel of San Satyro in this church, is 
 another mosaic of the same sort, which is thought to be still more ancient. 
 
 The great altar contains the ashes of St. Ambrose, St. Gervase, and St. 
 Protasius ; over it is a canopy, supported on four columns, of a beautiful 
 red porphyry. The canopy is attributed to the ninth century, (if I un- 
 derstand rightly) but the columns are esteemed much more ancient, and 
 I dare say they are so, but not in their present situation ; they pass 
 through the present paving, and tradition says that they are as much be- 
 low it as they are above, which is about ten feet. The bases of the piers 
 in the nave shew the pavement there to have been raised above a foot ; 
 that of the choir is about two feet above that of the nave; if we add 
 
216 
 
 S. AMBROGIO. 
 
 these two dimensions, equal to three feet, to the present height of the co- 
 lumns above the pavement, we shall probably have their total height. 
 The canopy is composed of four arches, each somewhat exceeding a se- 
 micircle, and of four gables of a greenish colour, richly adorned with gold- 
 The ornament of the archivolt is formed of a series of intersecting arches, 
 all gilt, and little gilt crockets run along the gables. The altar is also 
 said to be very rich with gold, silver, and precious stones ; but it was co- 
 vered with a case, and I did not see it. Besides the altar, this church 
 contains part of a granite column with a marble capital, much too small 
 for the shaft ; and upon this is the identical brazen serpent made by 
 Moses for the Children of Israel in the wilderness. More moderate peo- 
 ple say, that it was made in imitation of that of Moses ; but these do not 
 specify where the artist of the present, could have seen the ancient one, 
 or how he could have made a copy, without knowing any thing of the 
 original. It is entirely devoid of use or beauty, and does not seem to be 
 an object of reverence. Near this is a sculptured sarcophagus of white 
 marble, of Christian times, and supposed to have been made to receive 
 the ashes of Stilico, and his wife Serena. Without entering very minutely 
 into the truth of these more reasonable traditions, they are certainly very 
 pleasant, and seem to bring history home to us ; and they do really by 
 increasing our associations with it, fix it more firmly on the mind. Over 
 this sarcophagus, and partly resting on it, is a marble pulpit, which with 
 the eagle of gilt bronze which forms the reading desk, is of the time of 
 Frederic I. i. e. of the twelfth century. 
 
 On leaving this church I went to visit a little chapel, where St. Au- 
 gustine was baptized; but it has been modernized. I was much disap- 
 pointed, because, as the interest of the place depended entirely on the 
 event which took place there, it is palpably of importance, to any im- 
 pression received from it, that the original form and disposition should 
 as much as possible be preserved; and the Roman Catholic clergy gene- 
 rally know how to give effect to their religious establishments. 
 
 Another church which interested me very much, is the Madonna delle 
 Grazie. It did belong to a rich convent of Dominicans, celebrated for 
 containing the Last Supper of Leonardo da Vinci. The front of this 
 edifice has suggested to me, the idea of what that of the cathedral might 
 have been. The nave is ancient, with a sort of half modernization which 
 lets the antique character peep through ; to this have been added a large 
 
ST, MARK. 
 
 217 
 
 square edifice, forming the centre of the building, crowned with a lantern 
 of sixteen sides, and a choir. The central part is just of the beginning of 
 the restoration of Roman architecture^ and retains traces of Gothic taste ; 
 but the parts are so well disposed, and so well combined, that it forms 
 one of the most picturesque compositions possible. The Last Supper 
 still exists in a room in the convent ; but it is in so bad a state, that hardly 
 any thing but the design and composition are readily intelligible. The 
 head of our Saviour is said by Vasari to have been left unfinished by 
 Leonardo ; but Lanzi rather throws a doubt on this fact, though he ac- 
 knowledges that in its present state, three heads of the apostles alone re- 
 main of the original work. However this may be, the expression of the 
 head of Christ pleased me very much ; but I shall not presume to enter 
 on the merits of the painting, a subject already so often treated. The 
 damage is principally owing to time and damp, though the feet of our 
 Saviour were cut away by a superior of the convent to heighten a door- 
 way ; and some mischief was done by the French troops, and especially 
 by the cavalry, who were stationed there in 1796; but I think from the care- 
 lessness and inattention unavoidable in these circumstances, and not from 
 that systematic love of destruction which Eustace attributes to the French 
 in all cases. The woman who showed it said she had known the water 
 stand three feet deep in the room. Under Eugene Beauharnois it was 
 drained ; and I believe every thing possible has since been done for the 
 preservation of the picture. On the opposite wall is a composition in 
 distemper, anterior to Leonardo, on which two figures in oil were painted 
 by him, previous to the execution of his own subject, which was done 
 in oil. The ancient distemper remains much more perfect than either 
 these figures, or those of the Last Supper. 
 
 Another of the churches I visited at Milan is that of St Mark ; the 
 proportions of which are very good, though low in comparison with those 
 usual with us. It was built in the thirteenth century, and its beauty is 
 said to have passed into a proverb ; the front seems to have had a mag- 
 nificent rose window, which is now filled up ; the inside has been entirely 
 modernized, but enough of the exterior remains to shew how very infe- 
 rior the architecture of Italy was, at that period, to that of France and 
 England. Though adopting a slightly pointed arch, the buildings do 
 not seem to have risen above the plainness and rudeness of the Saxon 
 style, till the middle of the fourteenth century. The artists then began 
 
 2 F 
 
21b 
 
 PALACE OF GOVERNMENT. 
 
 to copy the forms they found in France, but without adopting the greatly 
 elevated nave, and without abandoning the strong expression of horizon- 
 tal line, and horizontal extent, which they had retained from the Roman 
 architecture. In the following age, Gothic was entirely abandoned. 
 
 Besides the churches, many public and private edifices at Milan are 
 pointed out to the notice of strangers. The first I shall mention is the 
 Palace of the government. While Eugene was there something was 
 added every year to its embellishments ; but now this has ceased. The 
 principal suite of apartments is hung with tapestry, with large cornices, 
 and broad gilt borders, and ornamented with painted ceilings ; such ma- 
 terials, if tolerably well disposed, always produce an appearance of splen- 
 dour and princely magnificence ; and this effect is not wanting here. I con- 
 sidered how far Mrs. Schimmelpenning's theory of the superiority of 
 light borders might be here illustrated. The relation of the colour of 
 the plain surface to that of the border, is very various, but the lightest 
 did not seem always the best ; however, I so far agreed with her, as to 
 think that borders lighter than the ground, have sometimes a degree of 
 delicacy and elegance, which can hardly be attained by the contrary dis- 
 position. In general it appeared to me, that the rooms hung with yellow 
 are the handsomest. I remarked this also at the Palazzo Litte, where 
 are two large rooms almost alike, one hung with crimson, the other with 
 yellow damask ; and the effect of the latter was far superior to that of 
 the former. Next to yellow, blue and crimson are the best colours. 
 Green is the worst ; but one room, sprinkled over with large and high co- 
 loured flowers on a white ground, was exceedingly tawdry, and much in- 
 ferior, even to those where the green was predominant. The ceilings are 
 painted in fresco on the cove, and in the middle, with ornaments in gene- 
 ral very well designed and well executed ; and with subjects of history or 
 allegory. These are partly the productions of a Roman, of the name, I 
 believe, of Traballesi ; and partly of Appiani, a native of Milan, scholar of 
 the former. The scholar's works are excellent ; full, rich, and harmo- 
 nious ; and far exceed the master's. Of the floors, some are very beauti- 
 fully inlaid with different sorts of wood; others are of the Venetian 
 stucco, which receives different kinds of marble, while yet soft, and the 
 whole is afterwards polished down to an even surface. When well done, 
 it is very handsome. Some of the rooms are hung with Gobelin tapestry, 
 which at the best, forms only indifferent pictures. Besides this suite 
 
BRERA. 
 
 219 
 
 there are two large and lofty saloons, the largest of which has a gallery 
 supported by caryatides, one or two of which are justly admired for their 
 execution ; particularly a female, covered with a veil. When first pointed 
 out to me, I thought the face had really been covered with a linen veil, in 
 order to preserve it. The other is a music room, the ceiling of which is 
 supported by columns. Both these rooms have been ornamented with 
 paintings representing the exploits of Napoleon, which are now re- 
 moved. 
 
 The Brera was formerly the principal establishment of the order of the 
 Umiliati, who in the middle of the sixteenth century were found, like so 
 many other religious orders, to have departed very far from that humility 
 and piety, which was the first object of their institution. St. Charles 
 Borromeo attempted to reform them ; and on this occasion their chiefs 
 are accused of endeavouring to assassinate the saint. The order was 
 suppressed in consequence of this charge in 1570, and this building was 
 given to the Jesuits for the establishment of public schools ; and it is 
 still used for this purpose, and for the academy of the fine arts. The 
 great court is surrounded by two stories of arcades, the lower upon 
 coupled Doric, the upper upon coupled Ionic columns. On the side of 
 the entrance a double range of these archways gives room for the great 
 staircase. The judgment does not easily reconcile itself to arches upon 
 columns ; or on posts ; for a column is only an ornamented stone post ; 
 yet I confess there is sometimes a delightful lightness and airiness of 
 effect, produced by the distribution, which I should be very much puzzled 
 to obtain by any other means. With regard to painting, I seem here to 
 have got into a new world. The number of pictures at Milan is astonish- 
 ing ; not perhaps of absolutely first rate productions, but still very fine 
 ones. The grandest collection is in the Brera, and one feels quite dazzled 
 and almost overwhelmed by the splendour of art there exhibited : but 
 however delightful it is to have ready access to such a gallery, I am aware 
 that nothing is more dull, than a long enumeration and description of 
 paintings you cannot see ; and I shall therefore abstain from particulariz- 
 ing them. I have learnt here a great respect for names which make very 
 little noise in England. The drawing and design of some of the frescos 
 of Bernardino Luini are most excellent: and the smaller pieces of Dauiele 
 Crespi are very fine, as are some of the pictures of Giulio Cesare Procac- 
 cini. Besides many first rate pictures, and these of the second rate, of 
 
 2 F 2 
 
220 
 
 MOSAICS. 
 
 the Milanese school, the Brera contains a great number of ancient paint- 
 ings ; extremely valuable to those who examine the history of the art, 
 and trace its progress, from the stiff attitudes and hard finish of early 
 times, to the grace of Coreggio, and the glow of Titian. It contains also 
 a fine collection of casts, and one of engravings. There are likewise rooms 
 for the exhibition of the produce of the useful arts ; and attached to it is a 
 botanic garden. Every body must find his curiosity gratified in the 
 Brera. 
 
 The churches in Milan are full of good paintings, the chief performers 
 in which are Luini, Crespi, and Procaccini ; but they are mostly in bad 
 lights, and the row of wax candles stuck in front of them is unfavourable 
 to their effect : but even in the poorest paintings, there is a knowledge of 
 drawing and colouring, and a grace in the position of the figures, which 
 we should seek in vain in the common productions of France and our 
 own country. 
 
 I have said nothing of the Great hospital, and I have very little to say 
 about it ; for it possesses little interest as an object of architecture. It is 
 very large ; about, I suppose, twice as big as the new Bedlam. It was 
 begun in the middle of the fifteenth century by duke Francis Sforza, 
 and has been increased at different times ; the last addition being in con- 
 sequence of a bequest of a Dr. Macchi, who lived in misery, in order to 
 be able to leave three millions of livres to this hospital. Every body is 
 received, whatever may be their country, their religion, or their disorder; 
 and it possesses moreover a magnificent dispensary, where medicines are 
 delivered to the poor, gratis, on the specification of any physician that 
 they require them, but where also they are sold to those who can afford 
 to pay for them. 
 
 There are many fine houses in Milan ; but were I to particularize every 
 thing which attracts my attention, I should never have done. The only 
 Roman antiquity is a range of sixteen Corinthian columns, with their 
 architrave, said to have been part of the public bath. They are very much 
 mutilated, but enough remains to shew that they were of good style and 
 well executed. 
 
 One of the principal lions in Milan, is the workshop of Rafaelli, who 
 is just finishing a copy in mosaic of the last supper of Leonardo da Vinci ; 
 the labour of seven years, began by order of Eugene, and continued for 
 the Emperor of Austria. These mosaics have the richness and depth 
 
PAVIA. 
 
 221 
 
 of colour of oil paintings, and they last for ever. Had I been a rich 
 man, I think I should have been tempted to throw away twenty louis d'or 
 on a snuff-box, on which a greyhound was most beautifully executed ; 
 but I suspect it is rather in bad taste to have trinkets in mosaic, as its 
 great merit consists in its durability, and a snuff-box does not seem 
 intended to last for centuries. 
 
 PAVIA. 
 
 August, 1827. 
 
 There is a navigable canal from Milan to Pavia, which was begun in 
 1807, but is only just finished. From the Gate of Milan to the Ticino at 
 Pavia, it descends 182 feet, 8 inches; there are thirteen locks, the whole 
 descent of which is 167 feet, 8 inches ; leaving for the descent of the canal, 
 fifteen English feet. The length is 107,350 feet, the breadth 42^ feet. 
 At first it forms a considerable stream ; but is continually giving off part 
 of its waters for the purposes of irrigation, and becomes very sluggish on 
 its arrival at Pavia. 
 
 My first object was the Duomo. There is a fragment of ancient 
 Lombard architecture on the outside, not now belonging to the church. 
 The present edifice was begun in 1488, on a magnificent scale. A spa- 
 cious octagon occupies the centre, and a nave and side aisles, extending in 
 each direction, were to have formed the cross ; the side aisles opening 
 into the oblique sides of the octagon, which are smaller than the others. 
 I sought in vain for the sarcophagus of Boetius, and for that of St. 
 Augustin. 
 
 The church of the Carmine is much more interesting than the cathe- 
 dral. It dates in 1373, is of the pointed Lombard style, with intersecting 
 ornamental arches in the cornice, and the front is the most elaborate 
 example I have seen of the sort. It is also a very fine specimen of brick- 
 work ; on which account also the pillars of the inside deserve notice. 
 Three squares form the nave, each of Avhich is covered by a simple groin, 
 but opens by two small arches into the side aisles, and has a very small 
 circular window above. The beautiful brick-work has been hacked, to 
 retain a coat of stucco or whitewash. The walls and vaults are also of 
 brick-work, but of very different quality. These were evidently intended 
 
222 
 
 S. MICHELE. 
 
 to be covered. The upper capitals are of stone, ornamented with de- 
 tached leaves ; the lower are of brick, cut into escutcheon faces. I 
 suppose you will laugh at me unmercifully, if I were to propose to orna- 
 ment such an edifice with gilding ; but in fact it would harmonize beau- 
 tifully with the rich brown of the brick, whose dark colour wants 
 something to relieve it. 
 
 The front of S. Francesco is in the same style, and of the same mate- 
 rial : there is a series of round-headed arches below, which displeases me ; 
 but the upper part, with one large central arch, surrounded by a number 
 of plain and enriched bands, is finely composed. There are seven pin- 
 nacles in front of the Carmine, five on that of S. Francesco, but though 
 well contrived in themselves, they do not, in either case, unite well with 
 the building. The inside has been modernized; and done badly, as is 
 usually the case, because those who wish to modernize, are precisely such 
 as despise the old style, and would scorn to enter into the feeling it 
 produces : perhaps indeed I might say, they are such as stop short at the 
 rules, and totally neglect the poetry of the art. 
 
 The church of San Salvadore, a little out of the town, is another edifice 
 of the same style, but on the outside, much plainer. The inside has 
 Corinthian pilasters supporting pointed arches, and it does not appear 
 that the solids have been altered, although various stucco ornaments, 
 which are not in good taste, have been added. The divisions are square, 
 each opening into two side arches. The whole is splendidly gilt and 
 painted, and in spite of some apparent discordance, the effect is really 
 fine. The church of San Michele is of an earlier date and style of archi- 
 tecture. Malaspina di Sannazaro {Guida di Pavia, 1819,) asserts that 
 it existed in the time of Grimoaldo, king of the Lombards in the middle 
 of the seventh century. The plan is a Latin cross, with an octagonal 
 lantern at the intersection ; but it is difficult in these ancient edifices, 
 to distinguish accurately the alterations from the original M^ork. The 
 front is a very curious one; all the arches are semicircular; there are three 
 small doors, ornamented with grotesque carving, and several small win- 
 dows. There is also a central, circular window ; but this, though not 
 large, appears to be an alteration. On the slope of the gable is a series of 
 small arches on columns, each column being placed on a step. S. Pietro, 
 in Cielo d'oro, is another example of the same early taste : the inside has 
 been modernized, but it is now a barn. 
 
CERTOSA. 
 
 223 
 
 There is said to be a church here by Bramante ; but I inquired for it in 
 vain. Just out of the walls is one by Pellegrino Pellegrini. The outside 
 has never been finished, but if it were it would hardly be handsome. 
 The inside has two orders, and the upper entablature is nearly half as 
 high as the pilaster to which it belongs. 
 
 The university is a modern building, magnificent rather by its extent, 
 than by any merit in its architecture. The library is said to contain 
 60,000 volumes. There is a valuable collection of natural history, but the 
 animals are not well stuffed. For example, the sole is so well filled, as to 
 appear nearly round. 
 
 The bridge over the Ticino is one of the lions at Pavia. It was built 
 in 1351. The body of the work is brick, with stone quoins to the arches. 
 The road-way is covered with a roof, supported on posts of rough granite, 
 which in this state is by no means a beautiful material. It is employed 
 in the same manner in the hot-houses at the botanic garden. The divi- 
 sions in this garden are formed by Thuja orientalis, which is very tract- 
 able to the shears, and makes very compact green walls, three or four 
 feet high, and not above six inches thick. 
 
 And now, having gone through the architectural antiquities of Pavia, I 
 must conduct you to the Certosa, about five miles distant, and not much 
 out of the road to Milan. It is here considered as one of the most beautiful 
 buildings in the world ; and may be cited to shew how much more effect the 
 appearance of riches and splendour have on the judgment of the multitude 
 than fine taste and elegant proportion. It was begun in 1 896, a period at 
 which several splendid ecclesiastical structures were raised in Italy. The 
 cathedral of Milan ; the church of S. Petronio at Bologna ; and the church 
 of S. Francesco at Assisi ; are all nearly of this date. The architect is said 
 to be the same Henry of Zamodia or Gamodia who designed the Duomo 
 at Milan. Malaspina {Gnida di Pavia) supposes it rather to have been 
 built under the direction of a certain Marco di Campilione ; who disputes 
 also the honour of the cathedral at Milan, but this appears to be a mere 
 guess. There is a bust of the architect within the building, but without 
 name or date. The style of the two edifices is so different, as almost to 
 preclude the possibility of their being the productions of one man ; and 
 the present offers no indication of the taste of our northern artists, while 
 the cathedral above-mentioned abounds with them. The nave has four 
 square divisions, each subdivided on the vault, and with oblique groins. 
 
224 
 
 CERTOSA. 
 
 The groining of the side aisles is singular, each space being in fact covered 
 with five unequal pointed vaults, meeting in a common centre. Beyond 
 the side aisles on each side, two chapels open towards each square division 
 of the nave. The choir and arms of the cross have each two square 
 divisions, so that there are seven on the whole length of the church, and 
 five on that of the transept. The whole is in the highest degree rich 
 with painting and gilding, and the orders* of the altars of the chapels of 
 the side aisles are of the richest marbles, while the altars themselves are 
 of inlaid work in precious stones. Nothing is neglected. Even the 
 washing place of the monks is a magnificent marble monument. The 
 tomb of the founder, John Galeazzo Visconti, is said to have been designed 
 in 1490, and completed in 1562, which is the date mentioned in the 
 inscription. Circumstances might induce us to expect here one of the 
 finest productions of the cinque cento, but this is not the case. The ivy 
 represented on a door jaumb just by is far more beautiful than any thing 
 in the tomb. The outside of the flanks and transept of the building 
 is full of pinnacles and ornaments, which do not rise naturally out of the 
 construction of the building ; but I examined the inside first, and to 
 confess the truth, I was fairly tired out with the interminable splendour 
 of the edifice : every little part seems to say, come and admire me. 
 There are two large cloisters, one of which is of immense size, with 
 marble columns, and a profusion of ornamental brick-work ; and there is 
 a spacious palace of later date, for the reception of visitors. 
 
 I have left the front till last, because it was erected after the rest of 
 the church, and is itself a distinct object. It was begun in 1473, from the 
 designs of Ambrogio Fossano, and as might be supposed from the place 
 and date, is not Gothic, but an immense heap of little parts, in the taste 
 of the cinque cento, often beautiful in themselves, but leaving no impres- 
 sion as a whole, except an undefined sentiment of its immense prodigality 
 of riches. I should not raise your ideas too high, if I were to say that 
 there are acres of bas-reliefs in figures and ornaments, often beautifully 
 executed, and never ill done. The material is marble throughout ; but 
 after all I could say or write, I could never sufficiently impress you with 
 the richness of the building, or with the feeling of fatigue with which you 
 take leave of it. 
 
 * The word order, as here used, includes the column with its entablature, and the pedestal, 
 if there is one; all which goes to make up one of the Grecian orders of architecture. 
 
225 
 
 LETTER XVL 
 
 VERONA. 
 
 Verona, 29th October, 1816. 
 
 I LEFT Milan on the 24th of October, with some very pleasant company. 
 One of them was Sig. Brocchi, a celebrated mineralogist, whose know- 
 ledge appeared to be general/ and to embrace every subject on which the 
 conversation turned. We stopped at Brescia, where I just ran into the 
 theatre. It is exceedingly beautiful, and I regretted the want of time to 
 examine it. The following day we continued our route, which lies for 
 about eight miles along the broad end of the Lago di Guarda, command- 
 ing views of that noble piece of water; but the weather was hazy, and 
 clouds hung about the mountains. We reached Verona at about four, 
 where my first visit was to the church of Sta. Anastasia ; but here, among 
 so many classic antiquities, I cannot begin with a description of the 
 Gothic ; though to confess the truth, none of the fragments of Roman 
 art can claim much merit on the score of beauty. The first object is the 
 amphitheatre ; still an immense pile, although almost all the external 
 circuit has been destroyed. It is supposed to have been built after the 
 death of Titus ; because it seems improbable that so great a work should 
 be undertaken in a provincial city, before one of the same sort had been 
 erected at Rome ; and before that of Trajan, from the account which the 
 younger Pliny has left us of some shews exhibited at Verona : that is, be- 
 tween 81 and 117 of our era. In the thirteenth century it was used as 
 a place for judicial combats ; and it is recorded of some of the Visconti, 
 that they received twenty-five Venetian lire for every duel fought there. 
 As early as 1228 we find that its preservation had become an object of 
 public attention, as the Podestji engages to spend five hundred lire in its 
 restoration. In 1475 penalties were decreed against any one Avho should 
 remove any of the stone. In 1545 a special officer was appointed to 
 take care of it. In 1568 a voluntary contribution was raised for its sup- 
 port, and in 1579 a tax was imposed for its reparation. Other decrees in 
 its favour have been since made ; yet notwithstanding this continued 
 care, only four arches remain of the seventy-two originally composing 
 
 2 G 
 
226 
 
 AMPHITHEATRE. 
 
 the exterior circuit, and a large portion of the steps on the inside were 
 taken away ; but the latter have lately been restored. The following di- 
 mensions are in Veronese feet, each of which is equal to thirteen English 
 inches and two thirds : 
 
 Ft. Tn. 
 
 Longitudinal axis 450 
 
 Ditto, of arena 2186 
 
 Conjugate axis 360 
 
 Ditto, of arena * 129 
 
 Circumference 1290 
 
 Height of what remains from the original pavement 88 
 
 The second circuit of this building remains almost entire. The arches 
 of the lower range are converted into little shops, over which shed roofs 
 project from the upper tier. Internally, the seats continue nearly in one 
 slope from top to bottom, nor is there any evidence that they were di- 
 vided hy precinctions for though this part is described by Vitruvius as 
 essential to a theatre, it is certain that it was not always adopted either in 
 them, or in the amphitheatres. Immediately above the podium, however, 
 is a wide space, which, though never called by that name, is precisely of 
 the nature of a precinction, and the sixth step from this is very narrow, 
 and as it could not be used as a seat, the back of the step immediately 
 below, would become a means of communication : it is uncertain how- 
 ever, whether this is any thing more than a bungling restoration . The steps 
 now existing are forty-three, each on an average, as nearly as I could de- 
 termine it, sixteen inches high, and twenty-eight wide, and sloping two 
 inches from back to front. I will not undertake to say, that this latter 
 circumstance arises from any thing but the settlement of the work ; yet I 
 think, from the few ancient steps which remain, that these were originally 
 laid with a small slope, to throw off the rain water. The part which 
 still exists of the outer circuit of the amphitheatre, is unconnected with the 
 steps, and at the upper part, is entirely detached from the rest of the fabric ; 
 so that if we have therefore no direct proof of the existence of a wooden 
 gallery, there is at least no evidence against it. The building is much 
 larger than that at Nismes, but to me less interesting, from the greater de- 
 struction of the outside, and the nearly entire state of the inside ; the de- 
 * The precinction is a broad step, leaving a passage behind the seated spectators. 
 
STA. ANASTASIA. 
 
 227 
 
 cay of which at Nismes exposes to view the intricacies of the interior con- 
 struction. It is still used, for I saw there an exhibition of horses and 
 horsemanship, of dancing on the tight rope, and of dancing dogs. 
 
 From the amphitheatre I went to an ancient gateway of two arches. 
 The Romans seem generally to have formed in this way the entrance to 
 their cities, probably that the carriages entering and going out might not 
 interfere with each other. Each arch has its own pediment, and over 
 these are two stories of building, with windows and pilasters whimsically 
 disposed, and without any correspondence with the gateways below, ex- 
 cept that they occupy the same extent. An inscription seems to attribute 
 it to Gallienus ; but the Veronese antiquaries say that the style is too good 
 for that period, and that there are traces of a more ancient inscription, 
 which has been erased to make room for that which at present exists. 
 The same words are repeated over each gateway. There is another arch 
 in somewhat better style, which also appears to have made part of a double 
 gateway, and as its situation proves that it could not have been an entrance 
 into the city, it is supposed to have appertained to the forum. The arch 
 of the Gavii seems to have been a triumphal, or perhaps a sepulchral arch ; 
 and we are told of some other fragments of the same sort, but they are 
 now destroyed, or so much degraded, as hardly to claim the attention of a 
 passing traveller. There are also vestiges of a Roman bridge, and there is 
 another bridge, ' Ponte del Castel Vecchio/ built in 1354. It is remark- 
 able for a large arch forming a portion of a circle, whose chord is 161 feet ; 
 it appears firm, but is shut up for fear of an accident. 
 
 I now return to the church of Sta. Anastasia, which, if the front were 
 finished, would probably be the most perfect specimen in existence of the 
 style of architecture to which it belongs. It was built at the beginning of 
 the thirteenth century by the Dominicans. The front was to have been 
 enriched with bas-reliefs, but this work has been only begun. The inside 
 consists of a nave of six arches with side aisles. The transept is scarcely 
 wider than one division of the vault, and consequently does not strikingly 
 interrupt the series of arches ; and beyond this is a choir, consisting only 
 of one bay, without aisles, and a semicircular recess. The transept is 
 short ; and in the angle between that and the choir is a square tower, ter- 
 minating in an octagonal spire. All the arches and vaultings are obtusely 
 pointed. The springing of the middle vault hardly exceeds the points of 
 the arches into the aisles ; and the windows of the clerestory are circular 
 
 2 G 2 
 
228 
 
 CATHEDRAL AT VERONA. 
 
 and very small. In the cathedral of Milan, the width from centre to 
 centre of each pier, measured along the church, is just half the width of 
 the nave, measured also from centre to centre ; and this may perhaps he 
 considered as the general arrangement of a Gothic huilding. In some of 
 our own churches, the proportional width of the side arch is still less. But 
 in this edifice, the first dimension is seven-eighths of the second. This 
 circumstance, in connexion with the little windows of the clerestory, and 
 the want of height above the side arches, impresses upon the structure a 
 character totally different from any thing we have ; but it forms a very fine 
 composition, and one which makes the building appear larger than it is ; 
 though it is by no means a small church, being about 75 feet wide, and 
 300 feet long. 
 
 The cathedral is another edifice of the same sort, the erection of which 
 is attributed to the twelfth century. A council was held in it in 1185, 
 and it was consecrated by Pope Urban III. in 1187. There are neverthe- 
 less several circumstances, which would have induced me to suppose it 
 posterior to Sta. Anastasia. Externally, however, the Duomo is orna- 
 mented with simple, and Sta. Anastasia with intersecting little arches, 
 which perhaps, on the whole, is as good a guide as we have in the dates 
 of this style. Four columns, supporting two arches, one above the other, 
 and the lower columns themselves resting on griffins, form the porch. 
 This mode of supporting columns seems to have been common in Italy in 
 the twelfth and thirteenth centuries. On the sides of the door are some 
 curious bas-reliefs, representing Orlando and Olivier. Maffei observes of 
 them, that the armour is precisely the same as that, which according to 
 Livy, was used by the ancient Samnites. Internally, the arrangement is 
 nearly the same as at Sta. Anastasia ; but it is shorter in proportion to the 
 width, and not so high, and the side aisles are wider. The piers are very 
 slender and clustered, with fillets down the middle of the shafts. The 
 capitals are large, both at the springing of the side arches, and of that of 
 the vault ; the bases preserve the members of the Greek Attic with some 
 peculiar modifications, but without the deepened scotia, which we see so 
 frequently in the latter productions of our early Gothic. In beauty this 
 church is much inferior to Sta. Anastasia. The cloister attached to 
 it has two ranges of arches in the height of the gallery ; each arch rests 
 on a pair of columns, and each pair is of a single stone, the capitals and 
 bases being united. Adjoining is a fragment of what is said to have been 
 
S. ZENO. 
 
 229 
 
 a church before the erection of the present cathedral. It is merely a 
 rectangular room, with a groined vault, supported on columns. 
 
 The most interesting example at Verona to the antiquary, as a speci- 
 men of the architecture of the depth of the middle ages, is the church of 
 S. Zeno. It is a most curious edifice, both externally and internally. 
 Tradition assigns the erection of it to Pepin, father of Charlemagne ; but 
 if he begun he did not terminate it, for we find that in the tenth century, 
 an emperor, (perhaps Otho II.) on leaving Verona, left a sum of money for 
 its completion. In 1045, the Abbot Alberigo began the tower, which was 
 finished in 1178 ; and meanwhile (in 1138), the church itself was restored 
 and aggrandized. The front may be cited as a good example of the early 
 architecture of this part of Italy ; the general idea is that of a lofty gable, 
 with aleanto on each side, which being the natural result of the construc- 
 tion is, if well proportioned, a pleasing form. The entrance is flanked 
 on each side by a column resting on the back of a lion, and these columns 
 support an arch, which springs some feet above the top of the capitals. 
 There are sculptures on each side, as there are in the cathedral, but these 
 are principally taken from Bible histories. Six of those on the left hand 
 represent the creation, and the fall of man ; on the two lower a chase is 
 sculptured. The feet of the hunter are placed in stirrups ; and this, ac- 
 cording to Maffei, is the most ancient piece of sculpture in which they 
 are exhibited. Some lines underneath designate him as Theodoric, and 
 according to the vulgar notion, the infernal spirits furnished him with 
 dogs and horses. Has this arisen from his being an Arian ? On the other 
 side are eight bas-reliefs from the New Testament, and over the doorway 
 there are others, which seem to relate to S. Zeno. Besides these, the 
 twelve months of the year are represented, beginning with March. All 
 the figures are rudely sculptured ; but the arabesques which enrich the di- 
 visions of the different compartments, are beautifully designed, and not 
 ill executed. The knowledge and skill requisite for these, is much less 
 than that required for figures, and the merit of the design is probably to 
 be attributed to the artist having copied from some ancient specimens- 
 The doors also are covered with scripture histories in bronze, in forty- 
 eight panels ; curious, as early specimens of art, but not pretending to 
 any beauty. Immediately above the arch of the porch is a hand with the 
 fore and middle fingers extended, and the two others bent, in the act of 
 the Latin benediction. It is said, that in the early ages, before the artists 
 
230 
 
 S. ZENO. 
 
 thought of making him an old man supported on cherubim, the Almighty 
 was always indicated in this way. Above the porch is a wheel window, 
 which interrupts the lines of the rest of the architecture ; but from the 
 simplicity of its ornaments, I am inclined to believe it part of the original 
 structure. It is a wheel of Fortune, with ascending and descending figures. 
 Matfei gives the inscriptions : 
 
 En ego fortima moderor mortalibus una 
 Elevo depono bona cunctis vel mala dono. 
 
 This is on the external circumference ; within is 
 
 Indue nudatos denudo veste paratos 
 In me confidit si quis derisus abibit. 
 
 The whole fac^ade, when free from other decorations, has slender up- 
 right ribs, terminating in a capital, and three small arches in each inter- 
 val between the ribs ; in the middle, these are divided into several stories ; 
 those on the sides continue from near the ground to the slope of the roof. 
 
 On entering the building, we descend by a flight of ten steps into the 
 nave, to ascend again to the choir, or rather presbytery, for there is no 
 transept to divide it from the nave, and the proper choir is merely a deep 
 vaulted recess at the end of the building. The nave is high, with low 
 side aisles, the arches of which are semicircular. They are in pairs, being- 
 supported alternately on columns and piers, from the latter of which ribs 
 ascend to support the roof of the nave; and over each pair of arches is one 
 very narrow round-headed window ; two only of these ascending shafts 
 support a direct arch across the nave ; in other respects the roof is of 
 wood, as it probably always was, for the arrangement is not calculated to 
 support any vaulting. In the elevated part of the nave, or presbytery, as 
 I have before called it, the lower part of the piers seems to be concealed 
 by the present pavement ; and yet one may discover that their bases are 
 not on the same level with those of the lower part of the church. The 
 recess forming the choir is vaulted with a pointed arch. Under the ele- 
 vated part of the building is a subterraneous church, and my first idea was 
 that the pavement had been elevated after the building was completed, in 
 order to form this crypt. On descending into it, however, this opinion 
 was very much shaken. Like the old church by the cathedral, it is 
 covered with semicircular groined arches, resting on columns disposed at 
 equal distances from each other. On one side is a recess under the choir 
 
S. ZENO. 
 
 231 
 
 of the church, which, like the choir itself, is covered with a pointed 
 vault, and the three adjacent arches are carried higher than the rest in 
 order to make room for the opening. The four piers of the presbytery 
 above are carried down through the groining of this crypt, without ap- 
 pearing to be connected with it. Two of these piers are larger than the 
 other two. One of the smaller exhibits, close under the vaulting, a base 
 similar to those of the columns of the nave, but somewhat higher in po- 
 sition ; nothing of this sort is visible in the other. Of the two larger 
 ones, one is a mere square mass, without mouldings of any sort ; the 
 other is divided into shafts, and has a moulded base, but not correspond- 
 ing with those of the nave, and much lower than they are. The ex- 
 tended basement of each of these piers supports four columns of the 
 crypt, which are therefore shorter than the rest. Here seems to be proof, 
 that this subterraneous church was neither prior, coetaneous, nor poste- 
 rior to the other; a difficulty to which I can offer no solution. At one of 
 the altars in the church, you are called upon to admire a group of four 
 columns of red marble, with their bases and capitals, all formed out of a 
 single stone ; and in a little chamber, near the entrance, is a great vase 
 of porphyry, also from a single stone, the external diameter of which is 
 13 feet 4 inches, the internal 8 feet 8 inches ; and the pedestal is formed 
 out of another block of the same material. This stood originally on the 
 outside of the church, and Maffei supposes it to have been intended for 
 washing the feet of pilgrims, before entering the sacred edifice. If so it 
 would hardly have been elevated on a pedestal. 
 
 The cloisters of S. Zeno consist of arches supported on little coupled 
 columns of red marble, united by a little appendage of the same substance, 
 at the necking of the column, and at the upper torus of the base. On 
 one side is a projecting edifice, sustained by columns of different sizes, 
 which formerly contained a large basin for the monks to wash themselves 
 before entering the refectory ; but it is now in ruins. Adjoining the 
 cloisters, we find here also, an old church, built in the same manner as 
 the one which stands close by the cathedral, with groined semicircular 
 arches supported on four pillars, all unlike, dividing it into nine equal 
 squares. It is possible that this may have been the original edifice 
 of Pepin, but the want of transept in a work of this size, and other par- 
 ticulars of the architecture, induce me to think the larger church erected 
 before the year 1000, while the front is doubtless of the twelfth century. 
 
232 
 
 PELLEGRINI CHAPEL. 
 
 The tower is panelled on the lower stories, and each panel is surmounted 
 by rows of little ornamental arches ; but the two upper stories have each 
 a triple semicircular headed opening on each face. Above these is a cor- 
 nice with intersecting ornamental arches. The lower part is probably of 
 the time of the Abbot Alberigi, that is, 1045 ; the second may be of 1178, 
 or of some period between the two ; but there is nothing very decisive in 
 windows of this sort, which were certainly sometimes used much earlier, 
 and continued in use as low as the thirteenth, and perhaps even in the 
 fourteenth century. The upright stiles of the panelling are continued, to 
 form a turret at each angle, which is surmounted by a pinnacle, and the 
 work is crowned by a square spire. 
 
 In a little court close by this church, is a vault honoured with the name 
 of the tomb of Pepin, and in it an empty sarcophagus ; the body, as it is 
 said, having been carried to Paris. Pepin, however, died at St. Denis, 
 and there is no probability that his bones were ever here. The sarco- 
 phagus is singular in having three strong ribs on one side of the lid, and 
 none on the other. 
 
 Near the church of S. Zeno, are a tower and some portions of wall, 
 said to be the remains of the bishop's palace ; in which the German 
 emperors several times resided, during the twelfth and thirteenth cen- 
 turies. 
 
 After S. Zeno, I visited the church of San Bernardino, where is a 
 beautiful little circular chapel of the Pellegrini family, built by Michele 
 Sanmicheli, who ranks among the best architects of this part of Italy ; 
 probably inferior only to Palladio. He was born in 1484, thirty-four 
 years before that artist, and died in 1559. His fame is still greater as a 
 military engineer than as an architect; since to him we owe the invention 
 of the modern system of fortification, where every part is flanked by some 
 other. His first work of this sort was in 1527, and as might be expected, 
 imperfect ; but in his later works, we find almost all the arrangements 
 afterwards employed by the French engineers. To return to the chapel 
 of Pellegrini ; it is perhaps too high in proportion to its size. It has 
 spirally fluted columns, and many other defects might be pointed out in 
 the details ; but though Sanmicheli furnished the designs, it was not 
 finished under his direction ; and he is said, indeed, to have been very 
 much dissatisfied with the execution. Such as it is, however, every body 
 admires it ; it speaks to our feelings rather than to our judgment ; a Ian- 
 
RELICS. 
 
 233 
 
 guage of which it is very difficult to be master. The arabesques with 
 which the pilasters are adorned are very elegant. 
 
 Among the churches at Verona is a little one called San Giovanni in 
 Valle, which has an antique subterranean church, pretending to contain 
 the bodies of the two apostles, St. Simon and St. Jude. Maffei says, pro- 
 bably very correctly, that towards the end of the fourteenth century, an 
 ancient sarcophagus was discovered containing bones ; and it immediately 
 obtained currency in the city that these were the bodies of St. Simon and 
 St. Jude. The top of this sarcophagus, he continues, is comparatively 
 modern, but it could not have been carved with any reference to these 
 apostles, because it represents two men in monkish habits, one older 
 and wearing a beard, one younger and without one, and behind these, is 
 a child, I bought a little book at the place for twenty centesimi (two 
 pence), published this year, which gives a much more detailed account, and 
 as it is written by Marco Dorna, Vicario della Cliiesa di San Giovanni in 
 Valle, it becomes a legitimate specimen of the present mode of reasoning. 
 The work begins with a history of these apostles, and how they con- 
 verted Egypt and Mesopotamia to the Catholic faith, and then went 
 together into Persia ; where, after converting numbers of the people and 
 princes from their former errors ; destroying temples, and overturning 
 the heathen images with their own hands ; they received the crown of 
 martyrdom. What immediately became of their bodies is uncertain, but 
 it is well ascertained that these were afterwards carried to Rome, and 
 deposited in a sumptuous altar prepared for them in the Basilica of St. 
 Peter, where they are reputed still to remain. " If then," continues my 
 author, " these relics are in the Basilica at Rome, how can they be in the 
 church of San Giovanni in Valle, at Verona ? This question is too rational 
 to be neglected, and after the researches I have made, the answer will be 
 easy. 
 
 " In the Catalogue of Italian Saints, written in Latin by Fra Filippo 
 Ferrario Alessandrino, of the order of the servants of the Virgin Mary, 
 printed at Milan in the year 1613, by Girolamo Bordonio, is found an 
 index pointing out those bodies of saints which are said to be in different 
 places at the same time, and in it are these words. ' The bodies of St. 
 Simon and St. Jude are in the church of St. Peter at Rome, and in that 
 of S. Giovanni in Valle, at Verona.' This author prefixes to the index 
 a short preface, in which he contends ' that it may be said, and with 
 
 2 H 
 
234 
 
 RELICS. 
 
 truth, that the bodies of saints are, at the same time, in different places. 
 It may really be so,' says he, * because the term body is applied to any 
 considerable part of the body, and such relics are venerated as entire 
 bodies ; as for example, the body of the apostle St. James the Great, 
 is said to be in Galicia, and also in his church on the hill of Griliano in 
 this neighbourhood ; nor is this a solitary example ; indeed there are so 
 many others, that Monsignore Sarnelli, in the eighth letter of his third 
 volume, considers it as an established custom in the church, and our own 
 cardinal, bishop Valerio, makes a similar observation, calling it a pious 
 extension {pia estensione). In the same manner the bishop Marco Gra- 
 denigo expresses himself. In short, it is sufficiently evident that we may 
 justly say, that the bodies of St. Simon and St. Jude may be at Rome, 
 and yet also in this church of S. Giovanni, transported there in time of 
 war by some one of the faithful. 
 
 " ' In the second place, if not so in fact, it may, nevertheless, be justly 
 said,' contends the already cited Ferrario, ' that the bodies of saints are 
 in different places at the same time, when there exists a holy belief that 
 they are in one place, while they really exist at the other, having been 
 secretly stolen from the first and carried to the latter ; and he adds that 
 he could cite a great many instances, but he abstains from doing it, lest 
 he should give offence.' " The writer then goes on to state that he will 
 not presume to affirm that these bodies are in Rome only by a holy belief, 
 but he adduces some evidence to prove that this is the case ; nor will he 
 assert that they are wholly and entirely at Verona; because, as they are 
 only seen by means of a small hole in the sarcophagus, it is impossible 
 to decide that question. After this he proceeds to give the more recent 
 history of these bones. 
 
 I will spare you the further detail of the author's arguments ; his posi- 
 tion is, that these bones were stolen from Rome about the end of the 
 twelfth century, and hidden at Verona, where they were found in 1395, 
 with an inscription on the sarcophagus which pointed out to whom they 
 had belonged. Unfortunately for this theory, not only there is now no 
 such inscription on the sarcophagus, but the whole is covered with figures 
 which bear all the character of the early ages of Christianity, and yet 
 have no reference to any part of the known, or imagined story, of St. 
 Simon and St. Jude. To get over this difficulty the author has re- 
 course to a series of gratuitous hypotheses, which shew his confidence in 
 
S. FERMO. 
 
 235 
 
 the easy faith of his readers ; " and thus," continues he, " having brought 
 my work to its termination, it is, I beheve, useful to observe, that from 
 the year 1395, when the holy bodies of our apostles were first discovered, 
 down to the present time, the memory of their existence in the above- 
 mentioned marble chest, in the crypt of this church, has always been 
 more or less preserved; and thus more than five centuries* have con- 
 curred to consecrate such a tradition ; on which account, I maintain, that 
 it deserves every possible respect, whatever may have been said, or 
 thought, to the contrary ; and it deserves also, that here the faithful 
 should run together every year to pay their vows to these great saints ; 
 and principally on the Sunday included in their octave, on the fourth day 
 of Lent, in the triduo which precedes their festival, and on the 28th of 
 October, which is the day of the festival itself" He then laments, that 
 owing to bad times, and continual revolutions, this festival had not been 
 celebrated as it ought to have been, and professes his resolution to ob- 
 serve it in future with all possible magnificence. 
 
 One more church and I have done with the Gothic architecture of Ve- 
 rona, or rather, with the architecture of the middle ages, for which we 
 want a convenient term ; the word Gothic having been appropriated to 
 the modification of the pointed style, which prevails in our own country. 
 Many other buildings of these times, well worth examination, might 
 perhaps be found here ; but I have not time to enter more extensively 
 into the subject. The church I mean is that of San Fermo, built in 
 1313. It is of brick with a good deal of ornament, and the rows of little 
 arches are some of them trefoil-headed. The door of the facade is round 
 headed, with a profusion of ornamented mouldings. It has no rose in 
 the front, but instead, are four lancet windows with trefoil heads, and the 
 parts seem more consistent on this account, as the rose window rarely 
 unites well with the numerous intersecting lines of this style of building. 
 Over these is a smaller window, divided by little shafts into three parts, and 
 a small circular opening on each side of it. There is no tracery. The 
 building ends in a gable whose cornice is loaded with ornament, and three 
 pinnacles rise above it. Internally, the ceiling is of wood and not handsome. 
 When seen from the bridge behind the church, a little polygonal build- 
 ing, each face of which terminates in a high gable, composes very richly. 
 As I was about to come away, an old woman pressed me very earnestly to 
 
 * He reckons, I suppose, the fourteenth, fifteenth, sixteenth, seventeenth, and eighteenth. 
 
 2 H 2 
 
236 
 
 TOMBS OF THE SCALIGERS. 
 
 stay and hear the mass, which was just about to be performed, as it 
 might contribute to the salvation of my soul. It does not seem to be 
 considered any sort of intrusion to go about these churches, even during 
 the performance of the religious ceremonies. One frequently sees the 
 Italians doing so themselves, and in the larger churches, the attendants, 
 who hope to make something of your curiosity, take you about to all 
 parts, and talk as loudly as if there were not a soul present. In general, 
 however, they are very careful to bend one knee on passing opposite the 
 high altar, and frequently make a similar obeisance at some of the side 
 altars. There are people on their knees at all times in the morning, and 
 though they are much more numerous during the celebration of the mass, 
 yet they do not then kneel all together, at particular parts of the service, 
 but some at one time and some at another. During the whole time of 
 the ceremony, perhaps more than half the congregation are kneeling, 
 but there is hardly any period at which many of those who seem to be 
 attending to what is going forward, as part of their religion, may not be 
 seen standing or sitting. 
 
 Before turning to the modern architecture of Verona, I must just 
 mention to you the three principal tombs of the Scaligers. That of Can 
 Grande, the second dog of the race, is not a very sumptuous monument ; 
 two square pilasters against the wall of a church, with foliage on the ca- 
 pitals, support a platform, and over this is a Gothic canopy with trefoil- 
 heads, but with little other ornament ; above the canopy is a pyramid 
 crowned with a figure on horseback, representing, probably. Can Grande 
 himself, who is also extended below, under the canopy. The second is 
 entirely detached, with precisely the same arrangement, but with more 
 ornament, and higher and more graceful proportion ; this contains the 
 remains of Mastino II. (the Mastiff). The third is of Can Signorio, 
 ^vhich is much more highly ornamented, but the disposition is the same, 
 except that it forms a hexagon on the plan. The pyramid is disagreeably 
 truncated in all, in order to admit the equestrian figure on the summit. 
 These dogs seem to have deserved the name ; the first died in 1328, the 
 second in 1350, and the third, who erected his tomb in his own lifetime, 
 in 1375. The desire of the Italians to introduce something resembling 
 the columns and entablatures of the Roman architecture, renders these 
 monuments much inferior to our own Gothic crosses. 
 
 I have already mentioned to you Sanmicheli ; in 1525 or 1526, he left 
 
TOMB OF JUfLIET. 
 
 237 
 
 the service of Clernent VII. for that of the republic of Venice, and was 
 immediately employed in fortifying Verona. The works executed prior 
 to his time have round towers instead of bastions ; these and the gates 
 have most of them inscriptions with dates ; the last of the ancient style 
 are the bastion of St. George, built in 1523, and the gate of St. George, 
 1525. The bastion of the Magdalen was the first erected by Sanmicheli, 
 and bears date 1527. He has made it polygonal but small, and perhaps 
 more like a tower than a modern bastion ; but in the succeeding ones, 
 all the particulars unite to give them the complete character of bastions. 
 The Porta del Palio, built also by this artist, is very beautiful as a piece 
 of architecture. It presents internally a range of arches, between doubled 
 Doric columns ; but it was left unfinished at his death, and has never been 
 completed. I do not know how it is, but though I always condemn 
 coupled columns in theory, they nevertheless occur in many of the build- 
 ings I most admire. The Porta Nuova was also by Sanmicheli ; it is 
 not so good, nor do any of his palaces equal in grace and purity of design, 
 this Porta del Palio ; yet they are all fine buildings. His usual defect 
 seems to be in not putting his stories well together, generally making the 
 lower too high, in relation to the upper, or else putting under the second 
 order a double pedestal, and thus leaving too much space between the 
 columns. Taking each order singly the proportions are beautiful. 
 
 Every Englishman who comes to Verona goes to see what he is told is 
 the tomb of Juliet. It is a plain sarcophagus without a cover, which has 
 been made use of as a cistern, and now lies neglected in a garden. You 
 are told on the spot, that she was deposited there after having taken the 
 sleepy potion ; it may be so, but the entire want of internal evidence, and 
 of all accompaniments, leaves the imagination unsatisfied. 
 
238 
 
 LETTER XVII. 
 
 VICENZA — PADUA. 
 
 Padua, 5lh November, 1816. 
 
 When I engaged my place in the diligence from Verona, I was told, 
 that as we had to perform a journey of 'eighty miles in the day, it would 
 be necessary to start at two o'clock in the morning ; but we did not ac- 
 tually set off till a quarter before four, and arrived at Vicenza at ten at 
 night. My companions were two Germans, an Irishman, an Italian lady, 
 and a Venetian woollen draper. The elder German valued himself highly 
 on his wealth, and boasted of the riches of some of his countrymen. He 
 declared that one house at Vienna had recently gained thirty millions of 
 francs in the space of three months ; he also contended that there were 
 many foreigners who could speak French better than the French them- 
 selves, and I have no doubt he thought himself one of the number. He 
 spoke English pretty well, and talked Polish to two Polish soldiers who 
 escorted us ; but he was what would be called in Italian, ' un gran secca- 
 tore' : Anglice ' a bore.' In the journey from Milan to Verona, we had 
 passed the dead horse of a courier, who had been robbed the night be- 
 fore. I do not know whether it was on this account that we were pro- 
 vided on the present occasion with an escort, which seemed to my Eng- 
 lish notions rather a ridiculous one. Our two guards were mounted in a 
 sort of gig, and as their horse could not keep pace with ours, they were 
 continually quarrelling with the postillions for driving too fast ; and yet 
 our pace on the road could hardly exceed five miles per hour. 
 
 Verona is a handsome city. Vicenza looks miserable ; yet there is an 
 astonishing number of well designed houses, many of which are of very 
 fine architecture ; and even those which do not deserve that praise, from 
 their number, and the richness of their ornaments, would produce a great 
 appearance of magnificence in the city, if they were well kept up ; but 
 they appear forlorn, neglected, and half uninhabited. If you ask your 
 way in the streets, you are answered with the greatest civility, but your 
 informant expects a few centimes for his trouble ; and you are surprised 
 to find yourself addressed by people of polished manners, and who, though 
 
LOMBARD MONEY. 
 
 239 
 
 not well dressed, have all the appearance of having seen better days, ask- 
 ing if they can do any thing for you, and proffering their services to 
 shew you the remarkable things in the city, in the hopes of obtaining a 
 piece of one lira.* The money in this part of Italy is very puzzling ; 
 the Milanese lira is worth seventy- six centimes, or about sevenpence 
 halfpenny English, and they sometimes tell you the price in these, and 
 sometimes in francs. A bookseller told me the price of his books in 
 boards, in francs ; but if bound, I was to pay an additional sum in Mi- 
 lanese lire. At Verona, I met with a good deal of Venetian money, but 
 the reckoning was always by francs and centimes. At Vicenza^ you are 
 told the price of every article, in Venetian lire and soldi. The Venetian 
 commercial lira is an imaginary money, divided like the French into 
 twenty soldi. The proportion it bears to the French is as twenty to 
 forty-one; but in smaller transactions, it is considered half a French franc. 
 The actual coins however, have no simple relation with this imaginary 
 money, and though almost all of them have the nominal value inscribed, 
 yet this serves only to mislead. Thus there are coins marked half a lira, 
 which instead of twenty-five centimes, are current for only twenty-one 
 and a half ; others of fifteen soldi, worth twenty-nine centimes ; of one 
 lira worth twenty-five centimes ; another coin marked as one lira, passes 
 for forty-four centimes. One lira and a half worth sixty-six centimes, two 
 lire worth fifty centimes. With a mode of reckoning so perplexed, it 
 would be easy to cheat a foreigner, yet I have no reason to suspect that 
 they have ever been given me for more than their current value. The 
 standard of morals may be lower in some countries than in others, but 
 there always must be a standard of some sort not generally transgress- 
 ed. A man here, who would demand without any scruple as much again 
 as the least sum he intended to accept for his goods, would scorn to de- 
 ceive in the reckoning. 
 
 My object in stopping at Vicenza was to examine the buildings of 
 Palladio, the first of modern architects ; but we have no name in archi- 
 tecture which stands on the same unrivalled eminence as that of Raphael 
 in painting. Palladio's buildings are in general very beautiful; but most 
 of them are at present in a very forlorn condition. The fronts and even 
 the columns are of brick, the entablatures of wood ; and the stucco, with 
 which both have been covered, is peeling off. I am aware that this state- 
 
 * This was towards the end of the year liilG, a period of great distress in Italy. 
 
240 
 
 PALLADIO. 
 
 ment of their materials, may lessen your respect for the palaces which 
 make so fine a display on paper ; but the circumstance does not diminish 
 the merit of the architect, though it does the magnificence of the city. 
 Palladio's columns are mostly mere ornaments ; but in contemplating his 
 buildings, it is impossible to feel this to be a fault. The sculpture which 
 loads the pediments of the windows is certainly ill placed ; and still worse, 
 is the little panel of bas-relief so frequently introduced over the lower 
 windows ; dividing what ought to be one solid mass, into two miserably 
 weak arches. What is it then that pleases so much, and so universally, in 
 the works of this artist ? It seems to me to consist entirely in a certain 
 justness of proportion, with which he has distributed all the parts of his 
 architecture ; the basement being neither too high nor too low for the 
 order above it ; the windows of the right size, and well spaced ; and all the 
 parts and proportions suited to one another. The same excellence is 
 found in his orders, and the relation of the columns, capitals, entablatures, 
 &c. He has not adopted the theoretical rules of another, but has 
 drawn them all from what he felt to be pleasing to himself, and suited to 
 his own style of art ; but they are not good, when united to a more solid 
 and less ornamental manner. I must, at the risk of being tedious, parti- 
 cularize some of his most remarkable buildings. 
 
 I. The Basilica; this is published pretty correctly by Leoni, except 
 that the roof is not surrounded by a balustrade. Here we have an exam- 
 ple, though in the adaptatio n of an old building, of the merits and defects 
 of the architect ; the result is rich and harmonious ; although, without 
 the greatest nicety of tact, the composition is such as would have been 
 displeasing. Yet to obtain this composition, he has rather gone against, 
 than complied with, the arrangement of the anterior building. The columns 
 are independent of the real or apparent strength of the edifice, and Palla- 
 dio intended they should be so, for he has made the entablatures break 
 round them. In this he was right ; had the architrave been continued in 
 a straight line, the columns would have become essential, and the great 
 space between them would have produced an appearance of debility. The 
 great roof is not his fault ; but as the point of sight is near, it is never so 
 offensive in fact, as in the published elevations. Internally, the lower part 
 is a market, the upper a great hall, which is not handsome. Each interco- 
 lumniation of Palladio is opposed to two arches of the original work. I 
 suspect he would have produced a finer building, if he had followed the 
 
PALLADIO. 
 
 241 
 
 old plan ; but I am better pleased that he did not, because the present 
 forms a more singular disposition, and shews what may be done when the 
 spaces are large. 
 
 II. The Palazzo Capitanale is not published by Leoni, but it is to be 
 found in the first volume of Scamozzi's work. The composition of the 
 front, if completed, would have exhibited a range of eight half columns, 
 comprehending two stories in height. The openings of the lower story 
 are large arches, including almost the whole intercolumniation. Above 
 the order, is an attic. The effect is rich and magnificent, chiefly, I be- 
 lieve, from the solidity and bold relief of the parts. On examination, 
 one cannot but severely condemn the cutting the architrave by the win- 
 dows ; not merely judging by rule, but by the effect. In its present state, 
 the brick columns, the stucco of which is half peeled off, have a forlorn 
 and desolate appearance ; yet the colouring thus produced is not bad : 
 what displeases is merely the associated character of poverty and ruin. 
 At the end is an elegant doorway, ornamented with a smaller order. 
 
 III. Fabbrica Conte Porto al Castello. This fragment is by some at- 
 tributed to Palladio, by others to Scamozzi ; but the latter disclaimed it, 
 and it appears to me to be Palladian. Whoever was the architect, we 
 may certainly pronounce it a noble design, although a very small part has 
 been executed, and that fragment is nearly in ruins. It would have con- 
 sisted of a range of Composite columns placed on high detached pedes- 
 tals, and these on high double plinths. The lower range of windows 
 reaches to the top of the pedestal ; the second range, in the spaces be- 
 tween the columns, is much larger than the others ; the upper windows 
 are in the frieze ; these latter have certainly a bad appearance, and the 
 situation of the lower range is not free from blame ; but in these cases, 
 where the order is merely ornamental, their want of perfect correspond- 
 ence with the apparent internal work is of less consequence than might 
 be imagined. 
 
 IV. Palazzo Tiene al Castello. The architect of this is said to have 
 been the proprietor. Count Marc Antonio Tiene, the cotemporary and 
 friend of Palladio, from whom, no doubt, he has largely borrowed. Sca- 
 mozzi seems to have completed it. It consists of two orders, Corinthian 
 and Composite, and an attic ; the lower order is partly rusticated, and an 
 impost moulding contracts the heads of the w indows, which are square ; 
 this pleases me very well ; but the thin flat arch over them, the sunk 
 
 2 I 
 
242 
 
 PALLADIO. 
 
 panel, and then another thin flat arch, are very objectionable. The upper 
 windows are smaller at top than at bottom, but the diminution is slight, 
 and the first time I passed the house I did not observe it; altogether the 
 building is very beautiful. The back consists of an open colonnade of 
 two orders, closed at each end ; the middle intercolumniation is wider 
 than the others, and has some masonry and an arch within it ; this varia- 
 tion seems to be introduced merely to spoil the composition. The front 
 has eight columns in each story ; the back ten. 
 
 V. You pass through a triumphal arch to a long covered gallery, which 
 leads up a hill to the church of Sta. Maria del Monte. This arch is sim- 
 ple and elegant, imitated in some degree from that of Titus at Rome. It 
 is crowned with a ridiculous little lion, and the angels represented on the 
 spandrils have too much projection ; but these are not essential to the ar- 
 chitecture. The gallery is remarkable for nothing but its length : no in- 
 genuity is displayed in overcoming the ill effects of sloping architec- 
 ture. 
 
 VI. The original church of Sta. Maria del Monte, was small and of 
 pointed architecture ; but a large new part has been added, in the form 
 of a Greek cross, which internally is very beautiful. What was once the 
 length of the old church, is thus become the breadth of the whole build- 
 ing, and the altar has been removed from the recess in the end of the 
 former building, to a place which was the middle of one of its sides. 
 They do not pay so much attention in Italy to the eastern position of 
 the altar as we do in England. The situation of Vicenza is very plea- 
 sant; an agreeable mixture of hill and plain, with rugged mountains at 
 some distance, and I suppose the snowy Alps beyond these, but the clouds 
 have prevented me from seeing them. The situation of the church com- 
 mands very noble views of these rich and varied scenes ; and a fine natu- 
 ral terrace, which forms part of the same hill, and along which I walked 
 in my way to the Rotonda, presents them perhaps in still greater perfec- 
 tion. 
 
 VII. The Rotonda. This is certainly Palladio's design, and must 
 have been nearly completed by him, though Scamozzi lays claim to the 
 honour of terminating it ii iik some alleration ; what this alteration was is 
 not known. I willingly attribute to him the internal cornices of doors, 
 chimneys, &c. which are heavy and inharmonious. It is published by 
 Leoni, but not correctly, as the centre rises in successive frustra of de- 
 
PALLADIO. 
 
 248 
 
 pressed cones, and there is no external appearance of a dome. Exter- 
 nally, it partakes of the desolate condition of every thing at Vicenza, but 
 still it is exquisitely beautiful, and the situation, at the extremity of a 
 point of hill advancing from the general line, is no less delightful ; no 
 other position could have suited the house so well, and no other house, 
 either larger or smaller, or with any other arrangement, would have been 
 so well adapted to the situation. Internally, it is equally admirable ; it 
 looks small, even more so than it really is. This is probably owing to 
 the preposterously massive ornaments about the doors. The rooms form 
 altogether one suite of apartments, four of which are intended for bed- 
 rooms ; but this, in the system of Italian manners, would be no objection 
 to their being all thrown open to receive company ; and here, whatever 
 may be the time of day, you are sure of shade, air, and beautiful scenery. 
 It would be difficult to accommodate the design to our climate and 
 manners, without spoiling it, even if we slipuld find for it a suitable situa- 
 tion. In this most essential particular, the three imitations which we 
 have, are all remarkably deficient. 
 
 VIII. Palazzo Valmarana. This has been published with sufficient 
 correctness in Leoni's Palladio. It is a handsome edifice, and would be 
 more so, if the angles were better supported, but the small pilaster and 
 figure over it, instead of the pilaster of the larger order, are as displeasing 
 in reality as in the drawings ; and the change in the size and number of the 
 windows in the adjoining divisions, is equally reprehensible. The mould- 
 ings of the lesser order project beyond the pilasters of the larger, and if 
 the panels of sculpture over the lower windows were somewhat narrower, 
 they would have a better shape themselves, and the greater space over 
 them would be an advantage. In other respects the proportions are ex- 
 cellent, and the distribution at once beautiful and uncommon. The total 
 absence of windows in the height of the pedestal, I take to be a great ad- 
 vantage. 
 
 IX. Palazzo Trissino. This is probably one of the best works of 
 Vincenzo Scamozzi, and it is a noble edifice, though it wants something 
 of that undefinable grace of proportion we admire in Palladio, and it 
 stands in so narrow a street, that one can hardly judge of it fairly. It has 
 a range of nine windows on the principal floor, with intermediate pilas- 
 ters doubled at the angles ; but the change of design in the three middle 
 divisions, the high unmeaning arch of the centre, and the double pilasters 
 
214 
 
 PALLADIO. 
 
 separating the centre from the wings, are so many defects. In the 
 ground-floor, the large central arched opening is too reasonable to dis- 
 please. 
 
 X. Palazzo Barbarano. Palladio has given this design with seven 
 openings in the range ; two more have since been added, and I do not 
 know that the composition has been injured, except that the doorway is 
 no longer in the centre. It is overloaded with ornament. The sprawl- 
 ing figures over the pediments of the windows, the husks which run down 
 on each of the openings, and the trophies in the lower story, ought all to 
 be taken away : with these exceptions in the decorative parts, the compo- 
 sition is excellent, and presents in its unbroken entablatures a simplicity 
 not usual in the Palladian architecture. The house said to be that of 
 
 ° Palladio, but which in fact was built by Sr. Pietro Cogolo, does not 
 much please me, and I shall therefore not describe it to you ; it is doubt- 
 ful even whether Palladio was. the architect. 
 
 XI. I am almost inclined to pass over the Palazzo Chiericati in the 
 same manner. The inosculating columns at the angles of the centre, dis- 
 please every body : a greater failure in point of effect arises from the ar- 
 chitect having filled up the centre spaces of the upper colonnade ; its so- 
 lidity is so offensive where all the rest is open, that no pleasing impres- 
 sion can be produced by the building. 
 
 XII. Palazzo del Conte Orazio da Porto. This was designed by 
 Palladio for a Conte Giuseppe Porto, and great part finished by him ; but 
 the whole design has never been completed. There are arches above the 
 windows of the basement, larger than the openings below, and the lines 
 not being continued downwards, they have an unmeaning appearance ; 
 and it would be better if the figures and husk ornament, which are added 
 to the middle and extreme windows, were omitted. These are very trifling 
 defects ; and for every thing else, the building is one of the most correct 
 of Palladio's designs, and is in the highest degree graceful and pleasing. 
 
 XIII. I will not trouble you with criticisms on other palaces, where 
 there is nothing particularly beautiful to render them objects of study ; but 
 pass on to the Olympic Theatre, which is too celebrated to be omitted, 
 though as far as my own taste is concerned it might have slept in oblivion. 
 The outside of this edifice, it having been erected on a contracted and 
 irregular piece of ground, does not claim any attention. The scene, 
 which is the part most admired, borders upon trumpery. It consists of 
 
PADUA. 
 
 245 
 
 two orders and an attic, has clustered columns and pilasters, and breaks 
 upon breaks, and abounds in figures and bas-reliefs. The finish against 
 the ceiling is low and poor. The author wished apparently to give the 
 appearance of a building terminating in an attic, and meant that the 
 ceiling should entirely disappear ; and if the latter were kept of a uni- 
 form dead colour, this by candle-light might perhaps have been the case ; 
 but the idea has not been preserved, for the ceiling is gilt and painted. 
 In the middle avenue a very considerable effect of distance is obtained ; 
 those on each side, opening into the middle, are nearly lost ; those of 
 the second openings on the right and left, look pretty well from certain 
 points of view ; the end ones are failures. I saw it however only by 
 daylight, and with some partial shadows, very injurious to its effect. It 
 is remarkable, that the point of sight is lower than it would be on the 
 lowest seat, which is three or four feet above the stage. The seats are 
 most inconveniently narrow, and nearly as high as they are wide. The 
 colonnade above the seats is beautifully proportioned ; but the centre di- 
 vision has been filled up in consequence of want of room, and this is very 
 injurious to its beauty. The row of statues at the top seem in danger of 
 knocking their heads against the ceiling, and offer another proof that this 
 was not intended to be conspicuous : they would be very much in the 
 way of any spectators in the gallery. 
 
 The Gothic architecture of Vicenza is of little value. The church of 
 Sta. Corona is perhaps the best edifice of the middle ages. The church of 
 S. Lorenzo is now a barn. The front of the Duomo is a very ugly mix- 
 ture of different styles : the inside is a single nave, of great width, to 
 which neither the height nor length is in proportion. It is nearly 60 
 feet between the pillars, which are placed against the wall. They all be- 
 long to that sort of pointed architecture which prevailed during the 
 thirteenth century, in this part of Italy, and of which I have given you 
 the church of Sta. Anastasia, at Verona, as one of the finest examples. 
 
 From Vicenza I proceeded again in the Diligence to Padua, The 
 weather continues bad, but you may walk about this city in rain or sun- 
 shine, as the footways are mostly under arcades. It is a damp, gloomy 
 town, with narrow streets, and no leading one ; and three or four squares, 
 but all of them small ; unless you except the Prato della Valle, which is a 
 fine open space, but cannot properly be called a square ; and though 
 within the walls, seems rather out of the town than in it. Verona is said 
 
246 
 
 CHURCH OF ST. ANTHONY. 
 
 to contain 45,000 inhabitants, Vicenza 30,000, Padua 44,000 ; they are pro- 
 bably all overrated. 
 
 The great wonder-worker, St. Anthony, takes his name from this city, 
 where he died ; although he was born at Lisbon. His miracles, indeed, 
 put all other saints to the blush ; and so great was the impression made 
 by them, that he was canonized within a year of his death, and in the 
 following year (1232) preparations were made for erecting an immense 
 church in his honour. Political events suspended the execution, and no 
 material progress was made till 1259. In 1307, the whole was finished 
 except one cupola, and the internal work of the choir ; which was not 
 perfected till 1424. It is 326 Englisl^ feet long, 160 feet wide in the 
 transept, and 128 feet high in the domes internally. The front is 128 
 feet long, and 93 feet high. These dates and dimensions are taken 
 from a little book of two hundred and thirteen pages, entitled, " 
 forestiere islruito delle meraviglie e del/e cose piii belle che si ammirano 
 internamente ed esiernamenle nella basilica del grantaumaturgo S. Antonio 
 di Padova,'' and which, among the relation of inscriptions, miracles, 
 relics, processions, and indulgences, does contain a page or two about 
 the building. The dimensions do not agree perfectly with the apparent 
 proportions, and I suspect the length is rather underrated, even if we 
 suppose it not to include a circular' building behind the choir, which is 
 called the sanctuary, but which forms no part of the original structure. 
 The architect of the front is said to have been Niccola da Pisa, and 
 Milizia attributes to him the design of the whole building. It is a vast 
 pile, of uncommon ugliness in every part; exhibiting seven domes, a small 
 octagonal tower above the gable of the front, (my book says there are 
 four small towers) two high octagonal towers near the choir, and a lofty 
 cone in the centre, surmounted by an angel. The internal architecture is 
 hardly superior to the exterior ; but it is so odd, and so complicated, 
 that'it would require a very long description to make the arrangement 
 understood, and it really is not worth it. Bad as it is, it has evidently 
 afforded many hints towards the much admired church of Sta. Giustina. 
 The shrine of the saint is as splendid as gold and marble can make it : 
 the architect was Sansovino, and the lower part, which is a range of five 
 arches, supported on columns, is good ; but the top is overloaded with a 
 double attic. The most sober architect takes some license in these small 
 productions, and is more lavish of ornament in them ; and it is probable 
 
PALAZZO DI RAGIONE. 
 
 247 
 
 that the eye requires more play of line, and more richness of detail, than 
 where the impression is helped out by the mass of the edifice ; but the 
 architects of the north of Italy have run too much into ornament in their 
 houses ; how much more then are we likely to find in their monuments ? 
 Sansovino preceded Palladio, and may perhaps dispute with Sanmicheli 
 the second place ; both are superior to Scamozzi, whose name is so much 
 better known in England. There are two bronze panels by Riccio 
 {Andrea Crispo Briosio detto il Riccio) in this church, which are very 
 fine. The figures are numerous, and there is a great deal of character 
 and variety in the heads both of men and horses. There is also a magni- 
 ficent bronze candelabrum by the same artist. 
 
 One of the Gothic buildings which struck me most at Padua, was the 
 church of the Eremitani ; but rather for the effect of light than for archi- 
 tectural beauty. It is a simple room, without columns or pilasters, and 
 a wooden roof, of no merit. The original light seems to have been a 
 small western circular window, but two side windows have been made 
 since, which were perhaps necessary, but which injure the effect. The 
 walls are adorned with altars, though without recesses : at the end is an 
 apsis or recess for the high altar, which has three very small windows of 
 its own, and this, and the altar itself, are rich with painting and gilding. 
 The pleasing effect of this church suggested to me the idea that a large 
 room like a church might be lighted altogether from one end, and I am con- 
 vinced it would be highly beautiful. A room 30 feet long, 10 feet wide, 
 and 15 high, is well lighted by a window at the end 4 feet wide, and 8 
 feet high, and a room of ten times those dimensions, viz. 300 feet long, ICQ 
 feet wide, and 150 feet high, would be equally well or better lighted by a 
 window 40 feet wide, and 80 feet high ; and it might be larger than this 
 if necessary. The doorway might be under the window, the walls not 
 naked, but with some simple ornament ; but the altar and the parts 
 about it should be rich and splendid; a single light, and a single object, 
 are two great advantages. 
 
 In the Baptistery, and in the church of the ' Arena,' the principal ob- 
 jects are the paintings of Giotto and Giusto ; and in the productions of 
 the latter, the relief is very perfect, in spite of the gilding with which 
 as usual in that age, the pictures abound. The Palazzo di Ragione is 
 boasted of as the largest room in Europe without columns ; it is about 
 
248 
 
 CATHEDRAL. 
 
 80 feet wide, and 240 feet long, but what is very singular, not rect- 
 angular. The roof is sustained by multitudes of iron ties. 
 
 The church of Sta. Giustina is of brick ; the external stone casing of the 
 front not having been executed. The outside is almost as ugly as that 
 of St. Anthony, rising up in a number of cupolas, and with one high 
 tower. The first architect was Padre D. Girolamo di Brescia, and the 
 foundations were begun in 1502, but the soil was so loose and marshy, 
 that little progress was made. One hole in particular was so large and 
 deep, that it swallowed up all the materials prepared for the whole edi- 
 fice. The work, therefore, was suspended till 1521, when it was re- 
 sumed on a different design, but so as to make use of the old foundations. 
 This was the work of Andrea Crispo, an architect of Padua ; and the 
 building was finished in seventy years. The whole length, internally, 
 is 367 geometrical* feet. The nave is 182 feet long, 35 feet wide, 
 and 82 feet high ; the aisles 19 feet wide, and 41 high. The transept is 
 252 feet long, 39 wide, and 82 high. The piers of the nave are 12 feet 
 square ; the whole width of the nave and side aisles is therefore 97 feet, 
 and the chapels are 30 feet long, 20 feet wide, and 40 feet high. The 
 height here attributed to the side aisle is that of the arches connecting 
 the piers of the nave with the side walls, for the disposition is rather that 
 of a series of vaulted recesses opening into the nave, and nearly as high 
 as that is, and communicating with one another by lower arched openings, 
 than a continued aisle. The first thing that struck me was the white- 
 wash, and it is wonderful how much this empty glare can spoil the effect 
 of the finest building. After the first impression of this had passed ofJ', 
 I admired with the rest of the world. The excellence of the building 
 consists, I think, in the great space between the piers, equal to the width 
 of the nave, and the loftiness of the side arches. Two little chapels 
 open into each of the recesses forming the side aisle. These are badly 
 managed, and the details are execrable ; but the general disposition has 
 an appearance of space and airiness, which is very magnificent. 
 
 The cathedral is a large church of Grecian architecture, built of brick, 
 but intended to receive a stone front, which has not been executed. 
 The plan might be said to consist of two Greek crosses, one beyond the 
 
 * T do not understand this term ; I give it as I find it in a little account of the church, 
 value \\d. 
 
PAINTINGS. 
 
 249 
 
 other, of which the farthest from the entrance is the largest. It wants 
 unity. 
 
 I rambled by chance into the church of La Madre Dolente. The 
 first part is an oblong room, with a small cupola in the centre rising on 
 four columns ; you pass across this, to the inner part of the church, which 
 is circular, and covered with a larger dome, in which groins are made to 
 unite with the arch of entrance, and with those of four semicircular side 
 chapels ; in the middle of the room are eight columns, supporting a cir- 
 cular lantern above the dome : the altar stands in the centre ; the effect 
 is pleasing, but it would be better if this lantern were larger, and the 
 avenue of approach longer. 
 
 The building of the University is one of the show-things of Padua, 
 but it hardly surpasses mediocrity. I went to see the tomb of Antenor, 
 which may be an ancient sarcophagus, but it is placed under an arch of 
 the middle ages, and has a black-letter inscription. I inquired for the 
 house of Livy, but it is destroyed, and for a collection of petrifactions of 
 Vandelli, but they are dispersed. 
 
 I did not mention to you the Palazzo Gazzola at Verona, which, how- 
 ever, well deserves commemoration ; not for its architecture, but for its 
 contents. It has some good paintings, but its great attraction is the 
 magnificent collection of fossil fishes. The French obliged Count Gazzola 
 to sell to them the finest objects in his possession ; but the museum has 
 gained by it instead of losing, for the Count had recourse to the moun- 
 tain, and procured finer specimens than he ever had before. There is 
 one three feet nine inches long, but not perfect ; several quite perfect 
 above three feet long, and the position of the fins and bones shows that 
 the shape has not been destroyed by compression. 
 
 I am no connoisseur in paintings ; but the quantity of good pictures is 
 so immense, and so scattered in every place, that it is impossible to 
 travel in Italy without attending to them. I have already mentioned 
 many names which are here highly esteemed, and have yet little reputa- 
 tion among us. At Verona and Vicenza, besides Titian and the other 
 great masters of the Venetian school, we meet with admirable paintings 
 of Marone Caroto, Felice Brusasorci, Giolfino, &c. ; but here, as every- 
 where else in Italy, many of the paintings which attract attention are 
 more curious for their antiquity, than valuable for their beauty. The 
 Last Judgment, by Titian, in the town-hall at Vicenza, is said to contain 
 
250 PAINTINGS, 
 
 V 
 
 i 
 
 thirteen thousand visible heads, besides a multitude of invisible ones. 
 Walking one day in the church of S. Rocco, I observed a Virgin and 
 Child behind the altar, to which I did not go up, because I took it for 
 one of those painted figures we frequently see in Italian churches ; but 
 revisiting the church on another occasion, I discovered that it was an 
 early painting by Bonconsigli, whose perfect relief had thus deceived 
 me. In the church of the Eremitani, in this city, is a beautiful John the 
 Baptist, by Guido, which would have deceived me equally had I not pre- 
 viously known it to be a picture. An exquisite Madonna and Child by 
 Titian, in the sacristy of the cathedral here, produced a similar effect ; but 
 I apprehend no merit in the painting is sufficient to give this perfect ap- 
 pearance of relief, unless assisted by a peculiarly favourable light. I do 
 not however mention these as the finest productions I have seen, but 
 merely for this peculiarity. If I once began to descant on the different 
 paintings, I know not where I should conclude ; and the observations of 
 one with so little experience, would after all be worth nothing. 
 
LETTER XVIII. 
 
 VENICE. 
 
 Venice, i5t/t November, 1810. 
 
 1 STAYED at Padua till the 6th of November, and then obtained a place 
 in the diligence for Venice. One of my fellow passengers let lodgings 
 at Venice, and I have since found my account in the circumstance. 
 The road side is adorned with good houses for some miles after we leave 
 Padua, and what is more, they seem to be in good order. About half 
 the journey was by land. For the other half, we were either towed by 
 a horse down the canal of the Brenta, or rowed across the Lagiine. 
 This canal is some feet below the level of the river, so that it has always 
 plenty of water, and the locks are not managed with any view to eco- 
 nomize it. Indeed all the canals in this part of Italy are running streams, 
 and sometimes pretty considerable ones. The banks are flat, and gene- 
 rally without large trees : the best parts resemble perhaps those of the 
 Thames at Fulham, but the stream is narrower, and the houses are 
 larger, all of them white, and the trees smaller. The lands behind are 
 low, and probably wet ; they are not however naked, like our marshes, 
 but have abundance of willows, and some mulberries and vines, and are 
 cultivated with corn. My vision of these objects was not however very 
 distinct ; for it was quite dusk when we entered the boat, and we did not 
 reach Venice till half past eleven. It was very cold, and the stucco 
 floors at this time of the year are damp and comfortless. I occupied a 
 large room at first, but I have since moved into a smaller, which has a 
 stove in it, and this suits me much better. 
 
 I will now give you an account of my mode of life here. I breakfast 
 at a coffee-house, usually at the Gloria, which is on my way to St. Mark's 
 Place. I afterwards continue my walk through the Place, to an excel- 
 lent inn, called the Favretti, where I find my three friends, Messrs. 
 Finch, Lee, and Wathen ; and usually also a young Greek physician of 
 the name of Vracliotti, who has paid us great attention, and we all sally 
 forth to see pictures and churches ; about four we adjourn to dinner at 
 the Trattoria de' Pellegrini, where, besides our party, we usually meet as 
 
 2 K 2 
 
252 
 
 VENICE. 
 
 many more Italians and Greeks, who frequent the place, and with all of 
 whom we have formed a sort of acquaintance. After dinner, and a cup 
 of Mocha coffee at the Florian, I get home as quickly as I can, to prepare 
 my lessons ; and at about half past five, or a quarter before six, comes my 
 Italian master, who stays till seven, and would stay longer if I would let 
 him : then I run off to Signor Vlandi, (BXavn) who gives me lessons in 
 modern Greek, which last to about half past eight. In my way back, I 
 look in at the Genio, a coffee-house where they play at chess. I have 
 not played there much, and at first I mostly lost. You know a chess- 
 player never wants an excuse for losing, but I really think in this case I 
 had very good ones. In the first place, the men, though better than the 
 French, are not well distinguished. Then the difference of the game in 
 the castling, and in the privilege which the pawns have " di passar 
 hattaglia" put one out a good deal. Add to these, a headful of sights, 
 and continued anxiety not to forget any thing that I have seen, and the 
 odd corners filled up with two languages. Latterly, I have in some 
 degree regained my credit. At half past nine, or ten, I step into the 
 theatre for an hour or two, and some time between eleven and twelve 
 go to bed, a practice which excites admiration at Venice, where parties 
 are made after the theatre ; and if a man feel himself indisposed, he 
 begins at midnight to talk of going to bed very early. I do not however 
 do all this every day ; indeed it is only about every other day that the 
 whole is performed : on the others something is omitted, to leave room 
 for a little writing. 
 
 Firing is very dear at Venice, and the apartments are not well con- 
 trived for warmth. Indeed, as far as I can see, no Venetian ever thinks 
 of making his room warm ; if his apparatus of mats, foot-bags, great 
 coats, and caps, are not sufficient, he either makes a little fire, just to 
 warm himself, or goes to the coffee-house, where however, the warmth 
 is derived from the crowds who frequent them, and not from the fires. 
 The ladies are better off, as they have little chafing-dishes to put their 
 feet upon, which as they sit, are hidden under their petticoats, and even 
 the beggars in the streets have these conveniences. The theatre, the 
 church, and the coffee-house are the lounging places of the Italian, 
 where he goes neither to see, nor to do any thing ; but merely because 
 he has nothing to do. There is seldom any amusement in the coffee- 
 houses, beyond a little languid conversation ; three-fourths of the people 
 
THEATRE. 
 
 253 
 
 seem dreaming, and neither eat, drink, nor talk. You may observe a 
 solitary individual come in, and seat himself on the well stuffed cushions, 
 with an air, not of enjoyment, but of mere listlessness, and sit in a sort 
 of stupid contentedness, saying nothing and doing nothing; but it is 
 winter here in the moral and political, as well as in the physical world. 
 
 I went several times to the theatre at Milan, and once to the opera : 
 the latter was very stupid, and I was very much pleased to find the 
 Italians can go to sleep at it, as well as the English. The comedy is a 
 good school of language. You pay about sevenpence for entrance into 
 the house, but if you wish to obtain a seat in a box, you must pay for 
 the whole box. At Venice, at one theatre you pay sixty-six centimes for 
 admittance. At another the price is fifty centimes, but you are to give 
 fifteen more for a seat. The opera here (at the Mos^) is sixty-six 
 centimes for admittance, and ten, or sometimes twenty more, for a seat. 
 At the Mose I found a notice posted up at the door, forbidding all ex- 
 pression of disapprobation. It seems that a favourite actress of the 
 governor did something to displease the public, and in consequence was 
 so hissed that she could not be heard : an order was issued to prohibit 
 hissing, but stamping with the feet was found to answer the purpose 
 just as well. Then appeared the order, which still remains, and as the 
 audience could no longer disapprove, they had recourse to applauses, and 
 at last fairly got the victory, and drove her off the stage. In most of the 
 Italian theatres the seats in the pit are divided, so that you are certain 
 of not being crowded ; and in many of them they are numbered also^ 
 and you sit according to the number ; and as in France, there are always 
 soldiers placed to preserve order. At Milan, the pit is flat, not rising 
 as it recedes from the stage ; but on the other hand, in some theatres, 
 the centre boxes are higher than those on the sides. One of the pieces I 
 have seen represents Harlequin in Paris and in London. I suppose we 
 borrowed Harlequin from Italy, but he has been strangely transformed on 
 the passage. The original has indeed the checkered dress and the 
 wooden sword, but every thing else is different. He is a poor simple 
 clown, generally the gull of some cheat, continually making blunders, 
 but mixing with his blunders and simplicity a sort of cross-purpose wit. 
 He borders upon the pot-bellied, has no activity, no transformations, no 
 magical powers, and his clumsy wooden sword is entirely without flexi- 
 bility. Columbine is also a country lass. In the piece which I have 
 
254 
 
 THEATRE. 
 
 just mentioned, it is not Harlequin which interests us, but the Italian 
 notion of the character and manners of the French and English. At 
 Paris, encouraged by the freedom of manners in the females, he attempts 
 to be very gallant, and makes love to various ladies. At last one of 
 them gives him a very good lesson, and tells him, that because they are 
 free, they are supposed to be vicious, but that it is unfair to judge of the 
 morals of one country by the comparison of their manners with those 
 of another nation, and that he will find as much virtue and constancy at 
 Paris as elsewhere. An Englishman is introduced at Paris, dressed in a 
 sort of great coat, with the ends of his neckcloth hanging down to his 
 waist. I fancy this is some old standard of the Italian stage, for the 
 other Englishmen are much more correct. Afterwards we find ourselves 
 in an English coffee-house, and this to be sure is a magnificent room. 
 One Englishman comes in after another, each calling out in one word for 
 what he wants, and this is mostly hirra. In many parts of Italy, bottled 
 beer is very much drunk in the coffee-houses, and as England is famous 
 for beer, they naturally suppose that we do the same in a much higher 
 degree. This is not half so ridiculous as a scene in one of Goldoni's 
 plays, where he introduces an Englishman paying attentions to an agree- 
 able Italian lady, till a silent countrywoman of his own appears. No- 
 thing will induce her to speak a single word ; but she merely expresses 
 by signs her assent and dissent. The Englishman is quite enchanted, 
 and as it is morning, is anxious to get something for her breakfast ; 
 will she have beer ? No ; tea ? No ; punch ? The lady nods assent. But 
 once more to our Harlequin, who soon makes his appearance in this 
 English coffee-house, and attempts to converse first with one, and then 
 with another, but is answered by frowns and threats ; the latter consist- 
 ing of pointing alternately to a stick and to his back, for not a word is 
 uttered except by Harlequin himself. Some ladies enter; every body 
 rises in silence to offer them the best seats ; and Harlequin, attempting to 
 get acquainted with them, gets actually beaten by the gentlemen. In 
 spite of the gross mistakes and caricatures, there was enough of truth to 
 make the representation very amusing. 
 
 The old Italian comedy had four masks ; Harlequin, who was originally 
 of Bergamo, but who now speaks Venetian; Brigella, more knave than 
 fool ; a blustering Bolognese doctor ; and a Neapolitan. The outline of 
 the story was given them, what they had to do was written down, not 
 
PLACE OF ST. MARK. 
 
 255 
 
 what they were to say. This seems quite gone by, and though the 
 masks are very frequently introduced, and something is left to the wit 
 and ingenuity of the actors, yet I believe the dialogue is now always 
 prepared for them. 
 
 By arriving in the dark, I lost the distant view of Venice, but I am 
 informed by my companions here, that it presents merely one line of 
 building, without any prominent object, and consequently is not fine. 
 I shall not pretend to carry you in detail through all the architecture of 
 this singular place ; and as for paintings, it is a subject on which I dare 
 not venture. A great many bad engravings of bad views in Venice are 
 to be met with all over Europe, which to me, now that I have seen the 
 objects, speak an intelligible language, but from which otherwise, I could 
 form no idea of the beauty of the churches and palaces, of the whimsical 
 architecture frequently displayed in them, or of the magnificent effect of 
 the whole. I will endeavour to analyze a few of the leading objects. 
 The morning after my arrival I repaired to the Place of St. Mark, which 
 1 entered by a sudden turn under some arcades, and on the first burst, it 
 appeared to me the most magnificent thing I had ever seen. Had I 
 been suddenly transported there from some distant place, I should have 
 known at once where I was, from the views I had seen of it. The 
 strange looking church, and the great ugly Campanile could not be 
 mistaken ; but although I had an idea of the architecture, I had none 
 of the effect. The Place of St. Mark is a well proportioned avenue to a 
 great building, which is of sufficient consequence, both by its size, and 
 the richness of its decoration, to merit such an avenue. This seems to 
 me the great outline of the composition, and that to which it very much 
 owes its impressive character. Round three sides of this place are deep 
 arcades. The faces of the houses above the arches, are all of stone, and 
 enriched with a good deal of ornament ; nothing looks poor or neglected. 
 The architecture of these parts is rich, but not correct ; and bears per- 
 haps the stamp of riches and power, more than that of good taste ; yet 
 that of one side is very handsome, even considered alone. Each side is 
 uniform in itself, though not similar to the other, and each is continued 
 in one unbroken line : had they been composed of a centre and wings, 
 they would have distracted the attention by forming each a separate 
 composition ; as it is, they unite with the objects at the end to form one 
 whole. 
 
256 ST. MARK. 
 
 The objects are three, the Orologio, the Campanile, and the church of 
 St. Mark, to which the two former seem appendages. There is also 
 another great building, the Ducal Palace, but this hardly comes into 
 the view ; and there are three tall red poles looking like masts of ships, 
 supported on handsome bases of bronze, or perhaps more like long red 
 tapers, fixed into very large, but low candlesticks, if you can but magnify 
 your images sufficiently. They are emblematical of the three kingdoms 
 of Cyprus, Candia, and the Morea, once subject to Venice; and on 
 feast days support large flags. Singly, they are certainly not beautiful, 
 but I think they add to the general splendour of the scene. The Oro- 
 logio, or clock-tower, forms the termination of the left hand side, and 
 rises above it, but not above the church. It is not good in itself, and I 
 think contributes nothing to the whole effect. I do not say this of the 
 Campanile, though it is merely a great square tower, above 300 feet high, 
 terminated by a pyramid, and having no intrinsic beauty. Its power of 
 pleasing is owing to the strong contrast it affords, running up so high 
 upon a narrow base, to the long continued horizontal lines of the Place, 
 and to the lumpy forms of the cathedral. The exterior of this church 
 surprises you by its extreme ugliness, more than by any thing else. It 
 is of two perfectly distinct styles. The lower belongs to that degraded 
 Roman which we call Norman, adorned with numerous little columns, 
 and abounding in ornament ; but the ornaments are merely such ; neither 
 forming, nor interrupting the lines of the architecture, but entirely 
 subordinate to them. On the contrary, the finishings of the upper parts 
 are of the Italian Gothic of the fifteenth century, much resembling in 
 form our own ornamental architecture in the early part of that period, 
 but without its lightness ; and the enrichments are excessively heavy and 
 overcharged, so that the architecture seems made for them, rather than 
 they for the building. A number of figures start up among the termi- 
 nating pinnacles. Still then the magnificence is produced by the exhi- 
 bition of riches and power, and not by just proportion in the different 
 parts ; and this sentiment is increased upon a nearer approach, when we 
 contemplate the multitude of columns of porphyry, verd antique, and 
 other precious materials, the profusely ornamented capitals, and the rich 
 mosaics on a gold ground, which decorate even the external arches. 
 
 This building was founded in 977, under the direction of architects 
 from Constantinople. There is a story that the principal architect was 
 
ST. MARK. 
 
 257 
 
 directed to make the most beautiful church possible^, and was put to death 
 afterwards, on boasting that he could have made one more perfect ; but 
 this tale is told of several buildings. The naked construction, which it 
 seems is of brick, was finished in 1071, but some walls and columns of an 
 old church founded in 831, were left standing. A public order was given, 
 that every ship coming from the Levant should transport the most beau- 
 tiful marble to be found in those parts, in order to embellish the build- 
 ing, without any regard to the expense. In 1072, the doge, Domenico 
 Selvo, incrusted it with marble, and probably began the pavement, but 
 the edifice was not consecrated till 1111. In 1455, the council authorized 
 the procurators of St. Mark to make use of the stones and columns of the 
 ruined church of St. Andrea de Aimanis ; this indicates that considerable 
 works were then going on at St. Mark, and probably points out the time 
 of the upper finishings ; for it is remarkable, that though a great deal has 
 been published on the subject, no direct notice is taken of these additions. 
 There are many other edifices in Venice which exhibit precisely the 
 same style of architecture, and were built about that period. The bronze 
 horses and other' precious or-naments, were brought from Constantinople in 
 1204. 
 
 The front is 170 English feet wide, and 72 high, without the figures. 
 The nave is 245 feet long ; the transept 201 ; the middle dome internally 
 90 feet high, the others 80. 
 
 I now return to my description of the outside. In the lower part of the 
 front are five recessed doorways, each adorned with two stories of little 
 columns, which are mostly gouty and ill made. Some of these columns 
 are of their original length, and exhibit the ancient necking and fillet at 
 the base ; others have been shortened. A most curious work might be 
 formed by an analysis of the various fragments of which this church 
 is composed; but it would take months to unravel all its intricacies. 
 The capitals are almost all different, all in bad taste, and dispropor- 
 tioned to the columns ; varying not so much in height as in diameter, 
 some being too large, and others as much too little. As the columns were 
 the spoils of Constantinople and the Levant, and perhaps in great mea- 
 sure also of Aquileia and Altino, one might imagine the capitals also to 
 have belonged to ancient edifices at the same places; did not a certain 
 rudeness both of design and execution, Avhich prevails in all of them, 
 shew them to be productions of the middle ages, or at least of the lower 
 
 2 L 
 
258 
 
 ST. MARK. 
 
 empire. I was disappointed in finding no good ones among all this num- 
 ber, and all this variety. It is true they are not equally bad, and some 
 are doubtless the spoils of older buildings ; yet if we reject all which have 
 this appearance, and only compare those, which from a certain similarity 
 of design, appear to have been made for the present edifice ; we shall find 
 the extreme of disproportion both ways remaining as strongly marked as 
 ever. Many peculiarities of what has been called (improperly enough) 
 the Lombard style of architecture, which is twin-sister with our Norman, 
 might be traced to this building, and probably through it to Constanti- 
 nople ; yet this is only in some of the subordinate parts. The general 
 style and character of the architecture is, and always must have been, 
 perfectly distinct from the Lombard, which was formed certainly before 
 the completion, and in part before the commencement of the present edi- 
 fice ; nor does the erection of this church appear to have produced any 
 impression upon the taste of the country ; for the Lombard pointed style, 
 which began probably early in the twelfth century, is more widely differ- 
 ent from the architecture of this building, than the fashion with semi- 
 circular arches, which preceded it. The front, and indeed the whole 
 atrium, or external gallery in front, and on the side of the nave, is sup- 
 posed to be of a design somewhat later than the body of the building ; yet 
 we cannot place them later than 1072, when they began to encrust the 
 whole with marble. In some parts of this gallery, and in the sacristy, 
 we meet with obtusely pointed arches ; and what is more remarkable, 
 there are compound arches with the reversed curve over three of the 
 front doorways ; and from the appearance of the workmanship, from 
 the character of the parts connected with it, and from the sculpture 
 with which they are ornamented, I am almost induced to believe, that 
 they are component parts of the original structure. 
 
 Over these five front recesses is a gallery, in the centre of which are 
 now replaced the famous bronze horses of Lysippus. Just behind them 
 is a great circular window, which was once highly decorated, but all the 
 ornament has been taken out, in order, I suppose, to throw more light 
 into the church, for the ornamented windows still remaining give very 
 little. I send you a sketch of one of the side ones, where the original 
 disposition is sufficiently clear, and great part of it perfect. It is rather 
 against my theory, that the lower part of this is filled up, but the window 
 is in a position from which a strong light could not in any case, be cast 
 
1 
 
 ■I 
 
ST. MARK. 
 
 259 
 
 into the church. The two small square divisions within the arch, which 
 are now entirely open, appear to have been originally filled up with 
 basket-work like the rest. In the upright parts of the recess, there is at 
 present no opening; but slabs of marble, between small mouldings, fill 
 them up entirely ; I rather suspect, however, that these have been added 
 to the original design. The capitals of the little columns dividing the 
 window, are as varied and as whimsical as those of the doorways below, 
 some of them are completely baskets in stone, while some of the bases 
 have the character and mouldings of capitals reversed. 
 
 Can I let you enter without saying one word of those enormous, ugly 
 ill-shaped domes, which crown the building ? Such as they are, beauty, 
 not use is their object ; for there is a wide space between them and the 
 internal domes. They are covered with lead, and entirely without orna- 
 ment ; surmounted by little lanterns with lead-covered cupolas contracted 
 at the base, and brought out to a point at the summit. 
 
 On passing the bronze doors, we find first, a spacious portal occupying 
 the whole width of the front, and returning on each side like the portico 
 of a peripteral temple, as far as the transept. It is vaulted with obtusely 
 pointed arches, seemingly composed of two circular curves, the centres of 
 which are little distant from each other, and the point of which is cut off 
 by the key-stone ; but as the whole vault is covered with mosaics, the 
 exact form is not distinguishable with certainty. The ground of all these 
 mosaics is formed of pieces of gilt glass ; the figures are of coloured glass 
 and composition, and some of them, which are executed from the designs 
 of Titian, and Paolo Veronese, are really very beautiful ; the sober re- 
 
260 
 
 ST. MARK. 
 
 fleeted light which they receive, not permitting the splendid ground to 
 be glaring. This vaulting on the side next the church, rests on columns, 
 whose capitals offer some singular imitations of the Ionic order. The 
 portal is also adorned with eight columns of oriental black and white 
 marble, which have capitals of Istrian stone, (a sort of imperfect marble, 
 or hard limestone) with a whimsical composition of birds and arabesques, 
 and support nothing. These are said to have been part of Solomon's 
 temple, and the singularity of the capitals is appealed to by the Vene- 
 tians as a proof of the truth of the tradition ; not reflecting, that the na- 
 ture of the material decidedly contradicts it. The shafts, like so many 
 others, M^ere probably brought from the Levant, possibly from Jerusalem, 
 and that is the utmost extent of rational belief. 
 
 On entering the body of the church, the display of riches is still more 
 striking ; the vaulting and great part of the walls are covered with mo- 
 saic, and the rest with rich marbles ; the columns of porphyry, verd an- 
 tique, and Oriental and African marbles ; the pavement of minute pieces, 
 of white and coloured marbles, jasper, agate, lapis lazuli, &c. variously 
 and for the most part beautifully disposed ; the inlaid ornaments and 
 gilded capitals, produce a degree of astonishment and admiration in the 
 mind of the spectator. The gilding on a fine day is rather glaring, but 
 this is owing to the alteration which has been made in the ancient win- 
 dows, in order to obtain more light. The change is certainly injurious 
 to the general effect, though some parts of the building are still abund- 
 antly gloomy. The plan is a Greek cross, with a dome over each of the 
 five parts, and a circular recess at the end. Two of these domes (those 
 of the nave and intersection) are larger than the other three, but each 
 part seems intended in itself to present the idea of a Greek cross, the la- 
 teral parts being rather the arms of these secondary crosses, than conti- 
 nued side aisles. Neither are they kept subordinate in height to the 
 principal avenue which connects the domes, but are merely separated 
 from it by a screen of columns sustaining arches, with an open gallery 
 above them. These columns have capitals of different forms, but all ap- 
 proaching to the Corinthian, and with at least one row of leaves, and all 
 have a double abacus. The capital, including the lower abacus, is gilt, 
 while the upper abacus has a painted or mosaic ornament. The lower 
 parts shew themselves to be of white marble ; a sort of warm brown 
 coating attributed to the dampness of the situation, which elsewhere 
 
DUCAL PALACE. 
 
 261 
 
 covers that material, being here rubbed off. The columns against the 
 wall have in general a sort of capital which may be traced perhaps to the 
 Ionic, but with an immense clumsy abacus. Those which support the 
 
 canopy over the altar, are of white marble or alabaster. They were di- 
 vided in height into nine bands ; the circumference of each band exhibits 
 nine arches, supported on Corinthian columns, and a figure of rude work- 
 manship under each arch. There are multitudes of other little particulars 
 in this church, which are interesting to an observer on the spot, but 
 would hardly be so to you who have never seen the edifice. 
 
 If, on entering the Place of St. Mark, under the arcades, where once 
 stood the church of St. Geminiani, you keep to the left, and walk under 
 the arcade on the northern side, you gradually obtain a view of the Ducal 
 Palace. Another great edifice thus opening upon you, stimulates the 
 imagination and enhances the beauty of this square. Still farther, you 
 catch a view of the great harbour, and some of the fine buildings around 
 it, which still increases the variety of the scene, without destroying its 
 unity ; and strengthens the sentiment. The Ducal Palace is even more 
 ugly than any thing I have previously mentioned ; it offers a double 
 range of comparatively small arches, supporting a great wall with a few 
 large windows in it. Considered in detail, I can imagine no alteration to 
 make it tolerable, but if this lofty wall had been set back behind the two 
 stories of little arches, instead of standing upon them, it would have been 
 a very noble production. To recapitulate then, the leading points of 
 my observations on this famous Place, its effect is produced by the im- 
 pression of power and riches everywhere displayed, and by a certain just- 
 ness of proportion (the result of accident, not of design) in the great 
 masses, and this greatly heightened by the variety of scenery it displays. 
 
262 GREAT CANAL. 
 
 Take away the appearance of riches and power, and nothmg remains ; 
 take away the justness of proportion, and you would have nothing that 
 pleases. The union of the two is necessary to produce the impression 
 which every body feels, and nobody can tell why. Some persons are of 
 opinion that irregularity is a necessary part of its excellence. I am de- 
 cidedly of a contrary sentiment, and am convinced that a regular design 
 of the same sort would be far superior. Let an oblong of good architec- 
 ture, but not very showy, conduct to a fine cathedral which should ap- 
 pear between two lofty towers, and have two obelisks in front ; and on 
 each side of the cathedral, let other squares partially open into the first, 
 and one of these extend down to a harbour, or the sea-shore, and you 
 would have a scene which might challenge any thing in existence. I 
 would not carry ray symmetry so far as to make these two subsidiary 
 squares alike ; they never come into one view, and for the sake of variety 
 it is better that they should be different. 
 
 After St. Mark's Place, and in some respects even superior to it, the 
 scenery which most demands admiration is that of the harbour, and of 
 the canal of the Giudecca, which is a continuation of it. This affords a 
 succession of great objects, and of some individually very fine ones ; as 
 the Zecca, the Prigione, the church of St. George, and that of the Re- 
 dentore. Other buildings not so good in themselves, yet by their mass 
 and character, have an importance which adds greatly to the magnifi- 
 cence of the Place. Such are the Ducal Palace, and the church of Sta. 
 Maria di Salute. In what does this character consist ? I should answer 
 that it arose from the expression of unity of design, combined with con- 
 siderable size. The Ducal Palace, with all its defects, has not that of 
 being frittered into a number of small parts, into wings, pavillions, and 
 corps de logis. It is evidently one great public building ; and a large 
 church, especially a church with a dome, must be very badly managed 
 not to have that appearance. The irregular winding of the canal of the 
 Giudecca presents these objects in different points of view, while it al- 
 ways offers in itself, a fine expanse of water. In a straight street or canal, 
 when the parts are large and well disposed, a more magnificent effect is 
 produced, than it is perhaps possible to obtain by curved lines ; but if 
 the artist fail in this one point, nothing remains. Among the numerous 
 combinations arising from irregular forms, it is hardly possible that there 
 
STYLE OF BUILDINGS IN VENICE. 
 
 26.] 
 
 should not be some good ones, and perhaps the variety and succession of 
 scenery thus displayed, is well worth the happiest effort of magnificence 
 produced by straight lines, and may even, by the reiterated impression, 
 produce upon the whole a sentiment of still greater sublimity. After the 
 canal of the Giudecca, comes the great canal, which however is compa- 
 ratively very small, though large in relation to the little Rios which di- 
 vide Venice into a thousand islets. It winds like an S, and may vary 
 from about 100 to 160 or 180 feet in width, and the number of fine 
 houses which come successively into view, and the combinations they dis- 
 play with the smaller buildings, form a continued source of interest and 
 pleasure. Few of these palaces are of good architecture, some of very 
 bad ; others are whimsical, but present among their strange forrris many 
 happy ideas. One very prevailing taste, has been to put several windows 
 very near together in the centre, while those of the sides are wide apart. 
 Sir J. E. Smith complains that it cuts the building into two, and it does so 
 when adopted in every story, but in the best examples this arrangement 
 is only followed in the principal, or at most in the two principal floors, 
 leaving greater repose and plainness to the basement and upper story, 
 and the effect is then very pleasing. In the earlier examples of this sort, 
 the windows are Gothic-headed, and frequently trefoiled. The architects 
 immediately before Sansovino made them round-headed, and introduced 
 a little more of Roman architecture in the details, without altering the 
 general disposition ; and Sansovino himself frequently exhibits traces of 
 this taste. The fashion seems to have prevailed all through the Venetian 
 states, and in its earlier forms, Verona exhibits better specimens than 
 V enice itself. The architects of that period did not confine themselves 
 to one disposition, but endeavoured sometimes to produce the appear- 
 ance of a centre, by other arrangements of the windows, but still without 
 making any break in the wall. Whatever the architecture of these Ve- 
 netian palaces may be, their size and number produce a great show of 
 magnificence. Venice appears the residence of princes. It must be con- . 
 fessed that in their present state, they seem to be the dwellings of poor 
 princes, but perhaps the ideas of wealth and power which no longer exist, 
 are not less interesting than those of present prosperity. They are in- 
 deed of a very different sort, but they harmonize better with the fallen 
 state of Venice; fallen probably to rise no more; for the Austrian govern- 
 
264 VENICE. 
 
 ment bestows its favour on other ports ; and amidst the political revolu- 
 tions with which Europe is still menaced, one can hardly imagine one 
 which would restore her power and consequence to Venice. 
 
 SKETCH OF A HOUSE AT VERONA. 
 
265 
 
 LETTER XIX. 
 
 VENICE. 
 
 Venice, '28th Nov. 1816. 
 
 I HAD heard so much of the canals and gondolas of Venice, that I was ra- 
 ther surprised to find that I could go by land to any part of the city, ex- 
 cept the Giudecca. It is indeed sometimes round about, and the alleys, 
 for there are no streets, are narrow, crooked, and intricate. Yet in this 
 cold weather I generally prefer encountering all their difficulties, to being 
 half frozen in a gondola. These gondolas, at least the smaller ones, con- 
 sist of a wherry with a little black box, into which you must enter back- 
 wards, because it would be exceedingly difficult to turn round. They are 
 rowed by one man, who places his oar, not behind, but at the side ; and it 
 is surprising with what dexterity he will direct his boat, by means so appa- 
 rently insufficient. The larger boats have of course two rowers, but in all 
 cases they stand to row, looking forward, and throwing the whole weight 
 of their body on the oar. The alleys sometimes open into little yards, 
 (they cannot be denominated squares,) the Venetian name of which is 
 Campi ; but enough of wandering about the streets ; I will now return to 
 the buildings. 
 
 I have already given some description of St. Mark ; there are other 
 churches of the middle ages at Venice, but I think none of them of very 
 high interest. One of the finest is the Santa Maria Gloriosa de' Frari, 
 the first stone of which was laid in 1250, but it was more than a century 
 on hand. The design is said to be of Niccolo Pisano, a name which 
 seems to be applied with great readiness to edifices of this period. The 
 external appearance is very plain, with three circular windows in front, 
 opening into the church, and a little one into the roof. The cornices 
 are ornamented with simple pointed arches, and with intersecting semi- 
 circular ones. The back of the choir, in some points of view, forms a 
 picturesque composition. Internally, it has a nave, with side aisles and a 
 transept. The disposition resembles that of Sta. Anastasia at Verona, and 
 the edifice belongs to the same class of architecture; but the parts are 
 smaller, and there are more of them. The perspective is sadly cut up by 
 
 2 M 
 
266 
 
 STI. GIOVANNI E PAOLO. 
 
 iron ties, which however appear to be very necessary. The clerestory 
 windows have been renewed ; the piers are mostly round, they are seven 
 in number on each side of the nave, and as many in the choir. The 
 stalls of the choir dated 1468, present some beautifully carved foliage, of 
 excellent design, and in entire relief. 
 
 Somewhere near the second altar on the right hand, were deposited 
 the remains of Titian, who you know, died of the plague, and in conse- 
 quence of the confusion of the time, the precise spot is not known. Some 
 years ago, a monk of the Conventualists put up a Latin rhiming inscrip- 
 tion. It is said that Canova has been employed to make a monument 
 more worthy of the artist, but it has never been erected. 
 
 Another large church of pointed architecture is that of the Santi Gio- 
 vanni e Paolo. This was begun in 1246, but not finished till 1390. It 
 is of the same sort of architecture, and like the Frari, spoilt by the iron 
 ties. There are five piers on each side of the nave, some cylindrical, and 
 some formed of three inosculating cylinders ; but they are all too small. 
 There are no detached pillars in the choir. It is not uncommon in this 
 part of Italy to have little deep chapels open into the transept on one 
 side only, and in the same direction with the choir. This is done appa- 
 rently to preserve the smaller, as well as the larger altar towards the east ; 
 for though not so superstitious as you are in England on this head, yet 
 they used in the darker ages to pay some attention to it. The clerestory 
 windows in this church are preserved ; those of the side aisles have been 
 altered. Over the pointed arches of the side aisles are little openings, 
 which suggest the notion of a triforium, but there is not, I believe, any 
 passage in that part. 
 
 The church of S. Stefano was founded in 1325, and offers some rich de- 
 tail of external ornament. The inside is covered with a wooden roof, 
 over arches supported on columns, which are not very unlike Corinthian. 
 The effect of the lower part is by no means displeasing, but the upper is 
 not so well managed. 
 
 Santa Maria del Carmine was dedicated in 1348 ; twenty-four columns 
 support the arches which open from the nave, and form a very pleasing 
 perspective. Above the arches is a rich Corinthian entablature, but the 
 upper part appears to have been modernized, and one large arch of the 
 groined vaulting occupies the space of two of the arches of the nave. 
 This has a bad effect. 
 
DUCAL PALACE. 
 
 267 
 
 The latest Gothic church in Venice is that of S. Zaccaria, which was 
 founded in 1457, but not completed till 1547 ; the western front seems 
 to belong to the latter date, or perhaps has been added still later, but the 
 rest of the building is in a sort of pointed style. The cornices are orna- 
 mented with simple, pointed arches, and there are many pointed arches 
 to the windows, and clustered columns about the choir; but we have 
 also little domes, and Corinthian columns (bad enough) supported on 
 high pedestals. These passages of one style into another are often curious, 
 but seldom beautiful. The side aisles are very lofty, and the clerestory 
 windows very minute, so that this mode of arrangement seems to have 
 been preserved to the last period of pointed architecture. 
 
 I will conclude my remarks on the Gothic edifices of Venice with the 
 Ducal Palace, which is said to have been founded in the ninth century ; 
 but nothing of the architecture at present existing can claim a higher 
 date than the middle of the fourteenth, when it was erected by the doge, 
 Marino Faliero. The architect is said to have been one Filippo Calen- 
 dario, who was executed for taking part in the conspiracy of his pa- 
 tron. 
 
 I have already mentioned to you the external appearance, with which 
 indeed, from the number of prints, you must be pretty familiar. Between 
 this mass of building and the church of St. Mark is a gateway, by which 
 one enters the court. This was built under the doge, Francesco Foscari, 
 who was elected in 1423, and died in 1457 ; and from a comparison of 
 other circumstances, it appears certain that it was begun about 1448, 
 under the direction of a certain Bartholomeus de Cisternis. The name of 
 Bartolommeo Buono, as architect, appears on the architrave ; but as this 
 artist did not die till 1529, it is hardly possible that he should have su- 
 perintended a building in 1448. Perhaps this Bartholomeus de Cisternis 
 was also named Buono ; or perhaps the inscription was only in conse- 
 quence of some posterior alteration ; you may take which opinion you 
 please ; I incline to the first. The arches here, and indeed all the parts, 
 are very much broken and confused ; the architect appearing to have 
 great horror of a continued line, whether straight or curved. The foliage 
 above the arch is very large; and this, and the figures rising among it, are 
 so exactly in the style of the upper finish of the church of St. Mark, that 
 there can be no doubt of their being nearly of the same period. The court 
 is surrounded on three sides by two stories of arcades, supporting the 
 
 2 M 2 
 
268 
 
 DUCAL PALACE. 
 
 upper apartments of the building ; the lower arches are semicircular, with 
 a small round hole above each ; the upper are pointed. The upper part 
 of two sides is somewhat in the style of the front, but the windows are 
 not regularly disposed ; it is principally of brick. One side is as richly 
 ornamented as possible. The remaining side towards the church is very 
 irregular, but also much ornamented, and without any plain surface, ex- 
 cept in some receding parts, which are covered with marble slabs. The 
 whole is in bad taste, between Gothic, and the revival of Roman archi- 
 tecture ; but the latter style seems to have been much less conspicuous 
 at first, as considerable alterations are sufficiently evident. A very fine 
 flight of marble steps leads to the first story, but you have another stair- 
 case to ascend before you enter the principal apartments. The first of 
 these was ornamented by Palladio, after a fire which happened in 1674 ; 
 particularly the four doorways are of his design, yet they are not very 
 good, and are besides too solid and consequential for inside doorways. 
 Each of them has a portico of two columns, without pediments, and there 
 are three statues over each. The marble of the columns is very beautiful. 
 The colour is a dark green, with yellow veins and red markings. They 
 are not all precisely alike, yet perhaps are from the same bed ; they are 
 called Greek. The cornices and swelled friezes are also of dark veined 
 marble, and this renders the mouldings confused. 
 
 I shall not conduct you step by step through all these numerous apart- 
 ments, splendid with gilding, and with all the glories of the Venetian 
 school of painting, which spreads over the walls, and covers the ceilings, 
 as if it had only cost a few shillings the square yard. There is also a very 
 fine collection of ancient sculpture. No expense has been spared ; San- 
 sovino, Palladio, and Scamozzi, have united their talents to those of Paul 
 Veronese, Tintoret, Palma, and the Bassans, and many other fine pain- 
 ters, to make them beautiful. Yet from the want of repose and sim- 
 plicity, the result is not satisfactory ; the very exuberance of art injures 
 its effect. 
 
 S. Jacopo in Rivo Alto, was first built in 1194. It was entirely re- 
 built in 1531, precisely in the old form, as we are informed by an inscrip- 
 tion in the portico ; we may doubt the perfect accuracy of the imitation, 
 but the six marble columns of the nave, with their capitals copied from 
 the Corinthian, are probably parts of the ancient building. The middle 
 space is about twice the width of the others, forming a transept, and a 
 
PROCURATIE. 
 
 269 
 
 cupola rises at the intersection. I suspect that this was an innovation, 
 but on the whole it is a pretty little thing. 
 
 The school of S. Rocco (I shall say nothing of the church) has been at- 
 tributed to Sansovino, but it is now usually given to Bartolommeo Buono, 
 Sante Lombardo, and Antonio Scarpagnino. The first began it in 1516 and 
 continued it till 1524, when he was dismissed, because he wished to make 
 some alteration in the doorways on the staircase, and in the portico to- 
 wards the canal. It was then given to Sante Lombardo, who was only 
 twenty years old, but with the condition that his father, Giulio Lombardo, 
 should assist him. These artists also wished to introduce some novelties 
 of their own, and therefore, in 1527, the direction was given to Antonio 
 Scarpagnino. Sansovino was called in, we know not why, in 1532, but in 
 1536, we find Scarpagnino offering a new design for the principal front ; 
 and more indulgent to him than to his predecessors, the confraternity adopt- 
 ed it. I dare say there was plenty of intriguing among all these changes, 
 but one hardly knows for what, unless there was a large salary and little 
 to do, for the building is not a large one, and it is not easy to imagine 
 what they could be doing for the twenty years which elapsed from the 
 foundation, before they began the front ; which expression is, however, 
 I apprehend, not to be understood of the solid masonry, but of a mere 
 facing. This front is of two orders, each of six entire columns, round 
 which the entablature breaks. The windows are arched, and in pairs ; 
 each pair is placed in an arched recess in the lower story, and crowned 
 with a pediment in the upper. It is more singular than beautiful. Buono's 
 style is more simple, and that of the Lombardi would probably be better 
 than the one adopted, for they had some taste and feeling in their way, 
 though it too often happens that their houses are monuments, and their 
 monuments gingerbread. 
 
 Bartolommeo Buono Avas the architect of the Procuratie Vecchie, form- 
 ing the north side of the Place of St. Mark. The design is not with- 
 out taste, and is certainly completely different from that of the gateway 
 of the Ducal Palace. There are two series of small arches over the larger 
 arches below, each of which supports two of the range above it. So far 
 the appearance is light and not inelegant, but the piers below are too 
 weak. There is hardly as much breadth between the lower order and that 
 above it, as the change of design requires ; the circular windows in the 
 widened frieze are bad, and the finishings against the roof execrable. 
 
270 
 
 CAMPANILE. 
 
 The opposite side of the Place of St. Mark is occupied by the Procu- 
 ratie Nuove, built partly by Sansovino, and partly by Scamozzi. Sanso- 
 vino first built the Zecca in the Piazzetta ; the lower order of which is 
 Doric, with an entablature of considerably more than one fourth of the 
 height of the column; a proportion displeasingly large, especially in this 
 ornamental style ; the intercolumniations have three triglyphs, and include 
 an arch rising on imposts. The triglyphs are tall and narrow, with only 
 two femora. The second order is Ionic, with an entablature still more 
 overcharged ; the frieze is immense, with round windows, which are very 
 much masked by the profusion of sculpture. It seems to me that in 
 this, the architect wished to preserve some degree of correspondence 
 with the Procuratie Vecchie, with which he has made the height co- 
 incide. The three first arches of the Procuratie Nuove, are the same 
 as those of the Zecca ; the ten following were executed under the direc- 
 tion of Scamozzi. He followed the Doric order of the Zecca, and the 
 Ionic, to the top of the columns, but he corrected the extravagance of its 
 cornice, and added a third order with Corinthian columns, which is 
 perhaps rather meagre, but altogether the composition is pleasing. The 
 same design was followed in the remainder of the building, but not, as it 
 appears, under the direction of any architect, and the workmanship is 
 very indifferent. One great defect of the arrangement, arises from its 
 height being so much greater than that of the opposite side ; a defect be- 
 come more sensible by the destruction of the church of San Geminiani. 
 This church was also the design of Sansovino, and the Venetian dilettanti 
 regret its destruction. Yet to judge from indifferent engravings, it seems 
 to have been a poor thing in itself, and must certainly have been injurious 
 to the effect of the Place, by interfering with that unity of object which 
 at present is its great charm. 
 
 That I may finish all I have to say of the Place of St. Mark, I will tell 
 you that the foundations of the great Campanile date as far back as 888, 
 but the present walls were not begun till the year 1148. What the foun- 
 dations were doing for two hundred and sixty years I cannot tell. The 
 arches in the upper part, with the attic above them, and the spire, are 
 said to have been commenced in 1150, but not completed till 1517, under 
 the direction of Bartolommeo Buono. At the foot of this towering mass 
 is a loggia, now a lottery office, erected by Sansovino. The style would 
 
S. FRANCESCO DELLA VIGNA. 
 
 271 
 
 not do well for a larger building, and is rather what might be called mo- 
 numental, than palatial, but it is good in its way, and for its object. 
 
 Sansovino was a sculptor as well as an architect, and very much em- 
 ployed at Venice in both arts ; he died in 1570, at the advanced age of 
 ninety. Buono abandoned Gothic details, but preserved much of the an- 
 cient disposition : Sansovino and Sanmicheli were the first who fairly in- 
 troduced modern Italian architecture into this part of Italy, and both of 
 them brought it from Florence. 
 
 I shall not pretend to give you observations on all Sansovino's works, 
 but I will mention two of his churches. That of San Martino is a square 
 room with three recesses on each side, one of which, rather deeper than 
 the others, forms the choir. The details are rather poor, but the distri- 
 bution does not seem ill-chosen. The outside of S. Giorgio de' Greci is 
 altogether bad. The inside is an oblong room, not I think, very well 
 proportioned or well decorated. Yet Moschini appeals to the judgment 
 of his predecessors in confirmation of his own, that it is the finest of San- 
 sovino's works, full of " majesty and magnificence, and as, on the score of 
 elegance, the artist has here touched perfection, so, in point of solidity, 
 he seems to have erected a richly adorned castle." It was thirty years in 
 building, and the expense was defrayed entirely by subscription among 
 the Greek inhabitants of Venice, and those who frequented that city. 
 On the division which separates the sanctuary from the body of the 
 church, are some paintings coated with silver, and having crowns, and 
 other ornaments of gold attached to them, and leaving hardly any thing 
 visible but the heads. I was assured that the painting was complete be- 
 neath this covering, and that the parts which were figured in low relief 
 on the silver plate, corresponded exactly with the drawings behind it. 
 
 Besides these, and many other things, Sansovino gave the plan of the 
 church of San Francesco della Vigna. A representation of the facade is 
 given in a medal struck in 1534, but the patriarch of Aquileia, at whose 
 expense it was to be built, not thinking it sufficiently magnificent, em- 
 ployed Palladio, in 1562, to make the design, which was afterwards exe- 
 cuted. It appears that Sansovino's plan, (already begun) was, in 1533, 
 submitted to Francesco Georgi, a brother of the convent, who proposed 
 to rectify the proportions according to what he calls Platonic principles, 
 " I would," said he, " that the width should be of nine paces, nine being 
 
272 
 
 REDENTORE. 
 
 the square of three, a prime and a divine number ; and that it should 
 have a triple proportion to the length, which should be of twenty-seven 
 paces, forming a diapason and a diapente and then he goes on to say, 
 that this relation and harmony was appointed by God himself, who thus 
 fashioned the world, and directed Moses to observe it in the tabernacle, 
 which was to be made according to the model shown to him on the 
 mountain ; which model, according to the opinion of the wise, was the 
 world itself. The author proceeds through all the parts of the church in 
 the same style. I do not wonder that men should have such dreams, nor 
 indeed, that they should write them ; but that they should think such 
 dreaming to be reason, that they should publish them as such, and that 
 the world should ever have received them as such, does seem to be a 
 little marvellous. 
 
 With all these harmonious proportions, however, or without them, for 
 I do not know if they were adopted, the inside is not beautiful ; the out- 
 side does not at all correspond with it, and nobody need doubt that the 
 building was the work of two architects. Palladio's churches have all 
 one general disposition in front, a pediment in the centre supported on 
 half columns, and a sloping roof on each side, resting on a smaller order, 
 whose horizontal cornice is continued, more or less perfectly, in the in- 
 tervals between the larger columns. The effect is always in some degree 
 as if a great pediment over the smaller order had been cut away for the 
 purpose of introducing the larger ; and on this account, I doubt if it 
 would not be better, entirely to omit all trace of the smaller order in the 
 intervals of the larger. However, though not absolutely perfect, these 
 buildings are very graceful ; and hitherto, no better mode seems to have 
 been adopted, for accommodating the Roman architecture to the usual 
 disposition of a Christian church. In the present example, the lower cor- 
 nice is only continued in two or three flat members in the intercolumns, 
 and there is a small projection in the wings, on which the cornice returns, 
 so that these flat mouldings alone, are interrupted by the columns. Both 
 orders are on a high continued pedestal, which breaks round the principal 
 columns, and is cut through to admit the door. Over the door is a large 
 semicircular window. 
 
 The church of the Redentore is altogether a design of Palladio, begun 
 by him in 1578, two years before his death. Here the pedestal is not so 
 high as in the preceding example ; and instead of being cut through, there 
 
SMALLER CHURCHES AT VENICE. 
 
 273 
 
 is a flight of steps up to the entrance. This does not leave room for a 
 large window over the door. So far the design is superior to that of the 
 before-mentioned edifice, and the composition is not the worse for taking 
 a squarer form ; but then, in order to obtain height, the architect has in- 
 troduced a sort of attic above the pediment of both orders, and a roof 
 rising above the attic ; in which it is at least as much inferior. Internally, 
 it has a fine, wide, single nave ; and this simple disposition might well 
 be imitated in our Protestant churches. The arrangement and colour of 
 the lower part are beautiful, and if the vault were a semi, instead of a 
 segment, and panelled instead of whitewashed, it might be cited as a 
 perfect model of this mode of architecture. The termination of the 
 choir wants consequence, and the plain whitewashed wall, behind the 
 semicircular screen of columns, is absolutely disagreeable. The sup- 
 ports of the dome are good, and have no appearance of insufficiency. 
 
 The church of St. George was also designed by Palladio, and begun in 
 1556, though the front was not erected till 1610. This front, or at least, 
 its central and principal division, is narrower, in proportion to its height, 
 than in any other of Palladio's churches. The larger order, as usual, is 
 Composite, and the little order Corinthian. The general proportions are 
 pleasing, yet the columns appear upon stilts, as each stands on its own 
 lofty pedestal, between which the doorway is introduced, while the 
 smaller order reaching to the ground, has its pilasters almost as long as 
 the principal columns. There is no pediment over the door, the exist- 
 ence of which is rather a defect at the Redentore, but there is a great 
 space not well occupied, above the secondary cornice. Internally, the 
 church has a nave and two side aisles ; but the piers are very solid, and 
 admit no oblique view between them on entering the great door. The 
 nave itself is much inferior to that of the Redentore. It is too short, 
 and the pedestals are too high. The transept cuts the lines disagreeably ; 
 and the want of some projection, or alteration of jDlan, at the intersection, 
 produces an effect of feebleness. The altars are all similar, simple, and 
 good. 
 
 S. Niccola de' Tolentini is perhaps, one of the best works of Scamozzi. 
 The front is a handsome portico of six Corinthian columns, but the 
 leaves of the capitals are uncut ; perhaps they have never been finished : 
 and an opening in the middle of the pediment is disagreeable. The iu- 
 
 2 N 
 
SANTA MARIA BELLA SALUTE. 
 
 side consists of a nave, with three chapels on each side ; a transept 
 with a dome at the intersection ; and a choir somewhat narrower than 
 the nave ; which is perhaps, better than keej)ing it the full width : the 
 proportions are good, but there is too much ornament. 
 
 The rest of Venetian architecture will be soon despatched. S. Pietro 
 in Castello was built by Francesco Smeraldi. I mention the name of 
 the architect, not that of the person who paid for the building ; but it is 
 astonishing to an Englishman to find how large a portion of these fine 
 churches were built at the expense of individuals. It is an imitation of 
 Palladio, with the pedestal cut through to admit the door, and the pedi- 
 ment surmounted by a ponderous attic : how different is the same com- 
 position when managed by different people ! Internally, the nave is too 
 short, and its lines are sadly interrupted by the large transept ; it would 
 have been handsome had this been omitted. 
 
 S. Simeon Piccolo is a rotunda, with a portico attached to one side, 
 and an opposite recess for the altar. The outside is not well propor- 
 tioned, and the tall, tile-covered dome is very ugly. Internally, the dis- 
 tribution of the smaller parts is not well managed, but it shows something 
 of the bear tiful effect of so simple a plan. 
 
 Santa Maria del Rosario, called the Gesuati, boasts one of the hand- 
 somest fronts in Venice. The inside is not so good ; the architect was 
 Giorgio Massari. S. Barnaba is inferior on the outside, but better 
 within. They are both imitations of Palladio. Santa Maria della Salute 
 is a great octagonal church, or oratorio, erected on the cessation of the 
 plague, in 1630, under the direction of Baldissera Longhena. The outside 
 is overloaded in all parts with ornament, and this defect is not redeemed 
 by any peculiar delicacy of sentiment in the distribution. Internally, the 
 dome is supported on eight pillars, the aisle continues all round it, and 
 there are eight recesses, seven of which are chapels, and the eighth forms 
 the entrance. The disposition produces a degree of intricacy without 
 confusion ; that is, without rendering it at all difficult to understand 
 the design, which is very favourable to the expression of richness and 
 splendour, and presents some very picturesque, and even beautiful com- 
 binations ; but the windows, disposed two on each side over the arches 
 of the central octagon, have a bad effect, and it is at present much in- 
 jured by the abominable whitewash, with which the Venetians daub 
 
LIONS. 
 
 275 
 
 almost all their churches. Luca Giordano has here exhihitcd some curi- 
 ous specimens of the versatility of his powers in imitating the styles of 
 other artists. 
 
 The church of the Santissimo Salvadore was built at the expense of a 
 merchant of the name of Jacopo Galli, who left by will sixty thousand 
 ducats for this purpose. The architect is uncertain ; the front is of two 
 orders, or rather of one order surmounted by an attic of almost equal 
 height, forming a square composition, with an unmeaning pediment over 
 the centre. The columns are very wide apart, as there are only four in 
 the range in the whole front ; yet on the whole, the appearance is not 
 bad, though one cannot call it good. The inside has a nave and side re- 
 cesses, or as Moschini has it, a nave with three transepts, the farthest of 
 which is longer than the others ; each intersection is covered with a little 
 dome, and each dome is crowned with a small lantern. The piers which 
 separate these transepts are perforated in both directions with a small 
 arch. The lights are kept high, and the general effect is very good. 
 Where there is a range of lower arches opening into the nave, sur- 
 mounted by a continued cornice, the simple vault forms by far the finest 
 finish, but in a case like this, where the side arches are as high as the 
 nave, the succession of domes is possibly superior, at least the upper and 
 lower parts seem perfectly suited to each other. 
 
 The New Prison was built by Antonio da Ponte in 1589 ; it is a very 
 handsome building, with rustic arches below, and above these a range of 
 Doric columns on pedestals, and a large cornice with consoles in the 
 frieze. These would be objectionable if the columns were on the ground, 
 or perhaps if the height were divided by any strongly projecting cornice 
 over the rustic arcades, but as it is, forming the only entablature to the 
 whole height, it has a noble effect. The greatest fault of the building is, 
 that it does not look at all like a prison. 
 
 In front of the arsenal are four marble lions. Under the two first are 
 inscriptions, telling us they were brought as trophies of victory from the 
 Pirajus at Athens ; under the third is merely ex Atticis, and the fourth 
 has no inscription. The first is erect ; the marble has reddish stains, and 
 but few traces of mica. The second is I think the finest, though it is 
 said, I know not why, to be modern ; it is recumbent. The marble has 
 no red stains, but the effect of the mica is very evident. They are both 
 
 2 N 2 
 
276 
 
 PICTURES. 
 
 admirable works, and undoubtedly of Pentelic marble. The third ap- 
 peared to me to represent a panther rather than a lion, the figure is lanky 
 and not beautiful. The fourth is a little thing of not much value, I be- 
 lieve of marmo greco, that is, a large grained, saline marble, of a white 
 not very pure, and marked more or less with grayish stripes. 
 
 The number of pictures here is immense, mostly of course of the Ve- 
 netian school, but of these there are magnificent specimens. The names 
 of Gian Bellino, the two Palmas, and three Bassans, are almost as well 
 known as those of Titian, Paul Veronese, and Tintoret ; but there are 
 also very fine paintings by Andrea Vicentino, Sebastian Ricci, Bonifacio, 
 Aliense, Mario Vecelli, &c. ; andLuca Giordano has also left here a great 
 number of his works. But the majority of these fine paintings are very 
 badly lighted. In the churches there is usually a row of wax candles be- 
 fore them ; and if on some feast day, when these are lighted, one of them 
 should fall back, and burn a hole in the canvass, nobody seems to care 
 much about it. Many of them are half hid by a statue of white marble, 
 whose colour sadly deadens the tints of the painting ; or what is worse, 
 by the painted wax face, white veil, silver crown, and gaudy satin drapery 
 of some wretched Madonna. Sometimes a crown and girdle of gold or 
 silver are stuck on the painting itself, and when this represents, as is 
 often the case, a Madonna in the clouds, they give her a silver moon to 
 stand upon. All the pictures in the churches are wretchedly dirty, and 
 it is provoking to see so little care taken of the finest of them. No 
 English churchwarden can be fonder of whitewash, than those who have 
 the care of the churches in Venice; and if they do not cover their 
 Titians with it, they do almost as bad, in whitewashing all round them. 
 Those returned from Paris are in a better condition. The French are 
 accused of having restored, as well as cleaned ; the accusation may be 
 just in some degree, but not to the amount one is led to expect by the 
 complaints made against them. And after all, when the question is be- 
 tween a very beautiful thing, but invisible, and another somewhat less 
 beautiful, which may be seen, I confess that I prefer the latter. These 
 paintings are now at the convent of the Carita, which is converted into 
 an academy of the fine arts, but the building contains no large rooms in 
 which they may be exhibited, and they are laid together in great confu- 
 sion : a few indeed have been picked out and put in front, where they 
 
PAINTINGS. 
 
 277 
 
 are tolerably well seen. The San Pietro Martyre was placed upon an easel, 
 in an excellent light, and without any thing to disturb the view of it, so 
 that I enjoyed it in all its perfection. Many of the larger paintings have 
 not been unpacked, and as they cannot be exhibited till a room is erected 
 for their reception, and there is now no Napoleon to order such an 
 erection, and no rich merchant to supply the funds ; it is not improbable 
 that they may remain rolled up for these twenty years. I have already 
 said that there is a fine collection of ancient marbles in the ducal palace. 
 There are also one or two excellent private collections of the same sort, 
 and some of the palaces are rich in pictures. One in particular, the 
 Manfrin, has a glorious collection. Besides pictures, the Italians adorn 
 their churches with painted images, to which I have occasionally alluded, 
 and which are dressed out as finely as gold and satin can make them, and 
 with as much taste as you would expect, when a monk undertakes to 
 perform a lady's toilet. An image of the Madonna in the Santi Apos- 
 toli, exhibited a gilt crown, a shawl of white silk was loosely thrown over 
 the head and shoulders, and her gown was of yellow satin with blue 
 stripes, and decorated with roses and other flowers intended to imitate 
 Nature. The child had a gilt glory, and an apron like his mother's 
 gown. I have not selected this as a remarkable one, but merely in 
 hopes to give you a more distinct idea of these figures by describing an 
 individual. 
 
 The Venetians used to paint the outsides of their houses, and Paul Ve- 
 ronese and Tintoret were sometimes employed in this manner ; but these 
 paintings have all disappeared, except that here and there some scarcely 
 distinguishable shades attest that such things were. The ceilings of the 
 apartments are always decorated, and they are generally lighter than the 
 walls. I do not mean to include such walls as are enriched with pictures, 
 but those only with decorative painting. The pattern is usually of a 
 darker colour than the ground, and often exhibits a great deal of taste. 
 We sometimes see the joists exposed, either moulded or painted, and the 
 little bits of ceiling between them painted ; but never our plain one- 
 coloured surface of plaster. 
 
278 
 
 LETTER XX. 
 
 JOURNEY TO BOLOGNA. 
 
 Bologtia, 13t/i December, 1816. 
 
 My Venetian life ended with the month of November ; and on the thirtieth 
 of that month, at eight o'clock in the evening, I got into the courier's 
 boat for Bologna. Our accommodation consisted of one room for all 
 sorts of passengers, and their luggage, among which we found seats as 
 well as we could. One of the company was a young Venetian widow, a 
 marchesa, who being young and handsome, and left in good circum- 
 stances by her first husband, was doubting whether she should marry 
 again, and expressed her doubts to the company. As she spoke in the 
 Venetian dialect, I missed a good deal of her conversation. Another 
 was captain of a trading vessel, who claimed me for a countryman, be- 
 cause he was a Maltese ; but his Italian was still more difficult than that 
 of the marchesa. About midnight a new arrangement of the packages 
 was completed, and mats were spread, partly on them, and partly on the 
 floor, and we all lay as we could. Before morning we stuck for three 
 hours on a sand-bank, but in other respects had a most prosperous 
 voyage. About six we stopt at a coffee-house, and most of my compa- 
 nions had some black coffee, i. e. coffee without milk, but as I wanted a 
 little more sleep, I did not follow their example. 
 
 The courier engages to find us dinner and supper for one day, and 
 dinner the next, but no breakfjist ; and he ingeniously contrived to give 
 us dinner at five o'clock, and supper at eight, in order to save as much 
 of the latter as possible but every body felt it a duty to eat something at 
 supper, out of spite. We changed boats, and soon afterwards entered 
 the Po, a great, muddy river running above the level of the country, 
 great part of which in the present season is under water. Our voyage 
 terminated at midnight ; but it makes no difference whether the boat ar- 
 rives at six in the evening or six in the morning, you must remain in it 
 till daylight, when all the lighter luggage is taken out and carried by 
 land to Bologna. As however there might be some grumbling, if the 
 passengers found themselves at Ponte di Lago Scuro early in the even- 
 
BOLOGNA. 
 
 279 
 
 ing, and had no better place to sleep in than the boat, the courier takes 
 care this shall never happen. We stopped five hours at Ferrara,* the 
 courier assuring me we should not stay there above an hour. This is 
 one of the customary lies of these people in Italy, but I was not suffi- 
 ciently aware of it. If I had known beforehand, that the carriage would 
 stay so long at Ferrara, I could have employed my time very pleasantly ; 
 but this was impossible with the expectation of having to go away at 
 every moment. On the other hand, the couriers and vetturini usually 
 mention a time of setting off in the morning rather later than that which 
 they intend, thinking probably, that their passengers would be unwilling 
 to dedicate so short a time to repose, and well knowing, that when once 
 roused, a man does not easily settle to sleep again. We did not arrive at 
 Bologna till past ten at night, but the kindness of Sig. Vracliotti had 
 furnished me with a letter to a brother of his, who is a student in the 
 university, and I stept at once into a comfortable lodging. I have a 
 large bed-room, well furnished, and a great bed, with a silk bag of down 
 to lay over my feet. No hangings, which are not usual in Italy. Ad- 
 joining is another room, or ante-chamber, of about the same size, which 
 is my sitting room ; and between this and the hall, another sitting-room, 
 which communicates with two more bed-rooms ; and I always have to 
 pass through these two sitting-rooms in going to my own bed-room. No 
 party is formed, and no fires are lighted, except in the kitchen, till about 
 three o" clock, which is dinner-time. Afterwards they are kept up all the 
 rest of the day, though the party always separate after dinner. In the 
 evening we again assemble, but there is no other regular meal. Some 
 are reading ; the ladies are knitting ; some are talking, and some playing 
 at cards. Besides the Greek student, there are two lodgers, one of whom 
 is an elderly gentleman, whom they call Sig. Paolo, but what his cogno- 
 men is I do not know, for the name in Italy is always that of baptism, 
 and by this you are addressed. The other is also a student in the uni- 
 versity, a very modest, pleasing young man. The Greek complains much 
 of the fast days. The Greek church is, indeed, more severe in this 
 respect than the Roman ; but he tells me, that at Corfu they are little 
 attended to. 
 
 We have here the Roman money, which ascends by tens ; ten bajocchi 
 making a paolo ; ten paoli a scitclo. This is the most convenient numera- 
 
 * Some notices of this city will be found in Letter XXXIX. 
 
280 
 
 S, PETRONIO. 
 
 tion of any, unless, indeed, that of twelve be preferable ; the great thing 
 is always to use the same multiple, even to the largest amount, and 
 twelve has an advantage over ten, in its greater divisibility. The most 
 common silver coins are, the piece of the two paoli, called also a papetto, 
 and the half-paolo, or groselto, for the Italian leaves nothing without a 
 name. The latter generally has some charitable motto, Pauperi porrige 
 mamim ; In cibos pauperum ; and others similar. 
 
 The pictures here are, to my taste, far preferable to those of Venice ; 
 for if the Venetian school surpass in colouring, and perhaps, in composi- 
 tion, the Bolognese is decidedly superior in drawing and expression ; and 
 the Caracci shine here like gods. The two finest collections are, that of the 
 paintings returned from Paris, which are put up for the present in the sup- 
 pressed church of the Spirito Santo, and the one at the Pinacotheca, which 
 is collected from the suppressed churches, and is, perhaps, even finer 
 than the other. Yet it contains a great deal of trash, from which the 
 other is free. There are fine things scattered about in the different 
 churches, and several very extensive private collections. 
 
 In architecture I shall not have a great deal to say ; Bologna is a fine 
 city, abounding in large churches and handsome palaces; but though 
 the general style is good, there is little of very excellent, or of very 
 striking and characteristic, to demand attention. The foot-paths are 
 under arches, as at Bern and at Padua, but here they are fine lofty ar- 
 cades, and the architecture is in better taste, more finished, and on a 
 larger scale. I must however, take you round as usual to the principal 
 buildings. 
 
 I. The largest church is that of San Petronio, of which the nave alone, 
 which, with a little temporary choir, is all that has been erected, is 400 
 feet long. It was founded in 1390, when Bologna was a republic ; the 
 first stone being laid with great solemnity on the 7th of July in that year. 
 The architect was a Bolognese, of the name of Antonio Vincenzi, or Di 
 Vincenzo, who, in 1396, was ambassador from the Bolognese, to the Vene- 
 tian republic. The plan was to have been a Latin cross, with a door at 
 the end of the nave, and of each transept ; each door opening from a pub- 
 lic square, to form which a number of houses and churches were to be 
 pulled down. From a plan published in 1653, (but which I did not see), 
 it appears that the whole length internally was to have been 570 Bolog- 
 nese feet, or nearly 712 English, (the length of St. Peter's at Rome is 
 
SAN PETRONIO. 
 
 281 
 
 only 571,) that of the transept 370 Bolognese, or 462 English feet. An 
 octagonal cupola in the middle was to be 130 feet in diameter, and 400 
 feet high, both in Bolognese measure, to which I shall adhere in the rest 
 of the description, each foot being very nearly 1 5 English inches. This 
 word cupola is perhaps ill-applied by the writer of the Bolognese Guide, 
 but the size of it, equal to the diameter of the whole building, including 
 the side-chapels, does not seem to be a Gothic idea.* There were to 
 have been four towers at the four extreme angles of the transept. It ap- 
 pears however, that this is only one of several plans, none perhaps of 
 much authority, but none of which I have been able to procure. In the 
 description of a model, (which I believe exists no longer) it is said that 
 the length was to have been 590 feet. 21ie tvidth of the three arms, 
 each of them augmented hy a chapel on each side, (I do not understand 
 this) 390 feet ; the diameter of the cupola 86 feet, and the height 250, 
 including the lantern. This model was made by Arduino, who ceased 
 to be architect to the fabric in 1530. It does not appear, that as far as 
 has been executed, any alteration took place in the original plan ; (with 
 the exception of the choir already mentioned) the disputes are altogether 
 on what was intended to have been the form of the remaining part. 
 
 The elevation at present begun would present a series of five gables, 
 the middle of which is the largest and highest ; those of the aisles are 
 lower, and those of the side-chapels lower still ; and between every two 
 gables there was to be a pinnacle. The part erected is cut up with 
 abundance of horizontal lines. The ancient design seems to have been 
 hardly as high as the present, and had fewer horizontal lines ; in the 
 front there were three round windows, and no others. Multitudes of 
 designs have been offered for this facade, and among others, two of 
 Palladio are preserved. The best of these has a pediment supported on 
 four columns (he would not venture to introduce a greater number even 
 in a case like this, where he most wanted them) ; two wings of the same 
 order as the portico, with their fragments of pediments abutting against 
 an attic ; and two secondary wings, with a smaller order. Each order 
 was to be on pedestals, all of the same height, and entirely cut through 
 by the doorways. It would not have succeeded ; the thing was too big 
 for the artist. The proper design for such a building, where western 
 
 * Yet this is nearly the arrangement of the cathedral at Florence, but the Bolognese church 
 would have been larger. 
 
 2 o 
 
282 
 
 SANTO STEFANO. 
 
 towers are out of the question, is a central gable, with two leantos on 
 each side ; but such an arrangement could only succeed in Gothic archi- 
 tecture, for it would be difficult, if not impossible, to give sufficient 
 height to the centre, supposing it to form a Greek portico. 
 
 The principal nave of this church is 49 feet in width. The two first 
 arches are 100 feet 10 inches high, but after these were erected, dis- 
 putes arose about the proper height ; many contending that it ought to 
 form an equilateral triangle on the whole width of the base, which would 
 give an elevation of 133 feet 6 inches. The work was suspended till 1647, 
 when it was executed with a height of 1 18 feet. The aisles are 70 feet 6 
 inches high, and 24 feet 6 inches wide ; the side-chapels 24 feet 6 inches 
 square, and 48 feet high. The choir is 116 feet long, and 106 feet high, 
 all in Bolognese measure. Two side-chapels open into each division of the 
 nave ; the width of the side-arches being the same as that of the nave. 
 These wide arches give a great appearance of space ; but they either be- 
 come enormously high, or else the height of the arch itself is too great 
 for that of the pier which supports it. Here the first is at least as much 
 as the latter, a proportion, or rather a disproportion, which is very offen- 
 sive, and rendered still more so by the great height of the capitals. These 
 are but little ornamented, and do not gratify the eye by any richness of 
 detail, or beauty of workmanship. Indeed there is much fault to be 
 found throughout, in the proportions of the different parts. All the 
 principal arches are retained by iron ties. Yet with all these faults, the 
 size and simplicity of design, and the space which every part seems to 
 enjoy, without confusion or huddling, produce a pleasing impression. 
 On the pavement of this church is the meridional line marked by 
 Cassini in 1()53, 178 feet Hi inches in length. 
 
 II. The church of San Stefano is a very curious building, being 
 formed by the union of no less than seven churches. In one of these are 
 some very ancient columns with whimsical capitals, supporting circular 
 arches, but the precise dates do not seem to be known. There are 
 coupled columns, one of rich marble, the other of stone, miserably 
 painted to imitate it, and this combination is repeated several times in 
 the circuit of a round church, which is said to have been, and with great 
 probability, an ancient baptistery. The church adjoining is reputed to 
 have been formerly the cathedral, and the earliest of this group. It 
 was founded by S. Faustino about 330, is something like our Norman, 
 
SAN GIORGIO. 
 
 283 
 
 with small, rounded windows in the nave. One of the chapels contains 
 an Ionic capital, and some arabesques, which are probably antique ; and 
 several fragments of the middle ages, which are interesting to an anti- 
 quary. 
 
 III. San Giacomo Maggiore is a large church, which was finished in 
 1315, but modernized in 1478 ; and from its appearance it seems to have 
 undergone a posterior modernization : here are three side-chapels to 
 each arch of the nave. Almost all the old Italian churches have been 
 modernized, but enough remains to shew that Gothic architecture was 
 never well understood in this country. The outside reminded me of 
 that of S. Fermo at Verona, but it has never been completed. 
 
 IV. The Cathedral is a fine building of modern architecture, (I speak 
 of the inside) built in 1575, but the front was not put up till 1647. It 
 is 174 feet long, (of Bologna) exclusive of the choir and presbytery, 
 which are 74 more; 127 feet wide, including the chapels; and 103 feet 
 high ; the width of the nave is 72 feet, the piers are perforated, and in- 
 stead of side-aisles there are recesses, forming, if you please, three short 
 transepts ; a disposition I have already described to you in the church 
 of the Salvatore at Venice. It is not uncommon in Italy ; and this 
 cathedral is perhaps one of the best examples of the arrangement, which 
 I confess is one which pleases me. It gives great width to the nave, 
 and reduces the aisles to a row of side-chapels communicating with each 
 other. The entablature, in this edifice, is continued without breaks ; 
 and the side-arches, instead of being carried up the height of the centre, 
 are kept under the architrave ; and this is also the case with the choir, 
 which appears in consequence rather low and confined. The order is 
 Corinthian, and not bad, though incorrect. Nothing however is gained 
 by the deviation from the usual forms. The vaulting is semicircular, 
 springing a little above the entablature, without any moulding to mark 
 the precise point. Some of the altars are very good. A simple portico 
 of two Corinthian columns never displeases ; and with good ornaments, 
 good proportions, and handsome marbles, cannot fail to be beautiful. 
 
 V. The church of San Giorgio, built in 1589, is one of those things, 
 which without any thing very blamable, yet produce no effect. It ex- 
 hibits a range of arches between Ionic pilasters, and a whitewashed 
 vault ; this last circumstance is certainly injurious, but not sufficient to 
 account for its tameness. 
 
 2 o 2 
 
284 
 
 SAN DOMENICO. 
 
 VI. The church of San Salvadore was begun in 1605, and finished in 
 1623. The front is not handsome, the wings being too small ; and the 
 general appearance is that of several smaller buildings erected on the 
 summit of a large one. Internally, it has perforated piers, and consists 
 merely of two large arches and a semicircular choir as high as the nave. 
 It is a very handsome room, but without much of the character of a 
 church, and this want of peculiar character, seems to me the prevailing 
 defect of the churches of Italian architecture. On the other hand, the 
 Gothic architects, in their productions, whether in Italy or in England, 
 hardly ever missed it ; but perhaps this opinion may be owing merely 
 to early association, 
 
 VII. San Paolo is another fine room, with perforated piers, and much 
 more character; which is, I believe, owing to its greater comparative 
 height and length. The proportions are very good, but the super- 
 abundance of painting shows that an error on that side also may be inju- 
 rious. 
 
 VIII. I mention to you S. Bartolommeo di Porta Ravegnana, to 
 notice a good effect in ornamental painting ; the general tone is too 
 gaudy, but the choir, with Corinthian pilasters, of a purplish gray, with 
 gilt mouldings, and the capitals and ornaments in the panels of the pilas- 
 ters also gilt, is very elegant. 
 
 IX. The length and general proportions of the church of San Dome- 
 nico, would produce a fine perspective, if it were not most industriously 
 destroyed. Every other arch is made into a sort of separate composi- 
 tion, with pilasters and an entablature ; and a smaller included order to 
 ornament the opening. The intermediate ones are quite plain, without 
 even the entablature. I should hardly however have mentioned this 
 church, if it were not for a very beautiful little chapel which it contains, 
 said to have been built from a design of Michael Angelo Buonarotti. 
 Two other architects dispute it with him, apparently on better founda- 
 tions, Floriano Ambrosino, and Francesco Terribilia ; it forms a cross in 
 itself, with a dome at the intersection, and a semicircular choir at the 
 end : the pilasters are of rich, coloured marbles : and the parts are well 
 disposed, and finely proportioned ; the semidome of the choir was painted 
 in fresco by Guido, and the other paintings are by no means contempti- 
 ble. The whole is exceedingly beautiful. 
 
 X. I walked one day up to the Madonna del Monte, a fine church, but 
 
TORRI. 
 
 285 
 
 not in very pure taste, about three miles from Bologna. The most re- 
 markable circumstance is, that one walks under a portico the whole way. 
 It is not in one continued straight line, but makes four or five angles in 
 the ascent. The architecture of this portico has no merit in point of 
 taste, and the apparent construction is still worse, since to a thing on 
 this small scale, iron ties are necessary to all the arches, and the beauti- 
 ful effect of the perspective produced by the long series of receding 
 curves, is quite spoilt by them. One cannot walk along it without feel- 
 ing impressed with its wonderful length ; it is indeed a monument of su- 
 perstition, erected for her own purposes, but one must admire the 
 courage and public spirit which could undertake such a work, and the 
 perseverance necessary to complete it 
 
 From the Madonna del Monte I went to the Certosa, now the public 
 burying-place : it was one of the good deeds of the French government, 
 that these were all swept out of the cities. The monuments are dis- 
 posed in cloisters, surrounding several courts of the old convent. It is 
 so gay with paint and whitewash, that that solemnity of appearance, 
 which seems to us both natural and becoming in such a place, is entirely 
 destroyed. There is a great number of skulls, with the names of those 
 of whom they once formed part, and among others that of Guido. What 
 a treat for a craniologist ! 
 
 The palaces here are plain handsome buildings, with architraves, &c. 
 to the windows and doors, but not decorated with the orders of archi- 
 tecture. In the Ranuzzi there is a very beautiful staircase ; the room is 
 elliptical, you enter at the end, and ascend to the right and left, and it 
 returns in one branch over you on the longitudinal axis. The carriage- 
 way to the stable-yard is through the room, and under the return flight 
 of steps, so that nothing can be more convenient. 
 
 The Torre degli Asinelli is a slender tower built at different periods, 
 256 feet high, which leans over its base, as measured in 1706, 3 feet 2 
 inches. Some years after this admeasurement, there was an earthquake, 
 and it was again measured, but no alteration had taken place. In 
 some situations you do not at all perceive this inclination ; and then 
 its slender form makes a fine object, rising above the buildings of the 
 city. The other tower, the Garisendi, inclines 6 feet 6 inches to the 
 south, and 1 foot 6 inches to the east ; it is 130 feet high, but has no 
 sort of beauty, in whatever direction it is viewed. Some authors have 
 
286 
 
 STATE OF ITALY. 
 
 pretended that it was built thus inclined, but the inclination of the 
 courses of brick, and the position of the holes to receive the timber of 
 the floors, proves that it was a mere settlement : a few feet at the top are 
 perpendicular. 
 
 You know, that in the Roman church, a sort of public disputation is 
 occasionally exercised, where a heretic or an infidel is supposed to be con- 
 victed of his errors. I have not been fortunate enough to fall in with one 
 of these, but my friend, Mr. Scott, going one day into a church in this 
 city, without being at all aware of any thing extraordinary, found it full 
 of people, and two priests apparently disputing in the midst of them. 
 Just as he entered, a sudden burst of laughter rose from the whole assem- 
 bly, and he began to think himself in a theatre instead of a church ; but 
 he soon ascertained that it was a dispute between a wise man and a fool, 
 carried on for the edification of good catholics. The wise man explains 
 the principles of his religion ; the fool disputes and turns them into ridi- 
 cule. Of course the wise man is to be completely victorious ; but the fool 
 frequently uses considerable force and ingenuity of argument, and a good 
 deal of wit, which is a much more formidable weapon. In the present im- 
 perfect state of our knowledge, the objector stands on so much more ad- 
 vantageous ground than the supporter of almost any set of opinions, and 
 especially has so much resource in the use of ridicule, which is forbidden 
 to the other, that such an institution does not seem to be a very wise one, 
 and I am afraid a large number would sympathize with the fool, and re- 
 gret his defeat. 
 
 I have not been quite so inattentive as you imagine to the political 
 state of the countries through which I have passed, but it would take as 
 much time to collect opinions, and form a correct judgment, as it does to 
 study the styles and dates of all the architecture I meet with ; and as I 
 cannot do both, 1 stick to that which belongs to me. Some things force 
 themselves on the notice of the most careless observer, and some opinions 
 will be formed from listening to casual conversation, and combining and 
 comparing the different sentiments one hears. I will then communicate 
 my speculations such as they are, without any fear that you should attach 
 too much value to them. I believe I have already mentioned meeting 
 some Englishmen at Bex, who had conversed a good deal with Olivier^ 
 the minister at Nismes, and received from him a distinct denial of the 
 letter to the Duke of Richelieu, attributed to him ; I have been reading 
 
STATE OF ITALY. 
 
 287 
 
 to-day, in the Italian papers, the proclamation of the prefect of the de- 
 partement du Gard ; and the violent, intemperate spirit it exhibits, may 
 serve as a comment on his previous conduct. It is called expressly in 
 these papers, the persecution of the protestants. On this side of the 
 Alps, nobody has thought it worth while to deny, what is so well known 
 to be the fact. 
 
 In Savoy I found the people rejoicing that the conscription was at an 
 end ; and the Genevese were proud of their recovered liberty and in- 
 creased consequence. In the Pays de Vaud the people seemed satis- 
 fied with the present state of things, and some of my occasional travelling 
 companions have formed the same opinion of the Canton of Bern ; I was 
 not equally fortunate, for I heard little from the inhabitants but grumbling 
 and discontent, at being restored to the government of a tyrannical 
 oligarchy In the Vallais, Napoleon is decidedly regretted by the mass of 
 the people, but this I apprehend is in great measure owing to the road of 
 the Simplon, the execution of which diffused a quantity of money among 
 the inhabitants, and gave a stimulus to their activity with which they were 
 before unacquainted. The road, now it is made, also affords a great facility 
 to commerce, and creates a traffic through the country which is of great 
 advantage to it. I see it was lately debated in the Helvetic diet whether 
 this road should be destroyed. If they decide in the affirmative, it will 
 preserve the Vallaisans in their original poverty and idleness, and make 
 them pray with increased fervour for the return of Napoleon. On cross- 
 ing the Alps, one finds little change in political opinions. I do not know 
 what is the constitution of the Vallais, but I suspect the existence of an 
 oligarchy or aristocracy, whose feelings do not coincide with those of the 
 bulk of the people : in the Milanese, high and low, rich and poor, seem to 
 be alike Napoleonists, and in the Venetian states it is much the same. 
 Even at Bologna, I believe the bulk of the people would be glad to be 
 again under his government, though superstition is very strong among 
 them. Added to this, all my countrymen, in this part of the world, seem 
 to be Napoleonists, or travelling towards it. Nor is there any thing 
 strange in this ; Italy says aloud, that she has nothing to thank England 
 for, in restoring to her the multiplied abuses of her old governments. In 
 endeavouring to keep the sword in the hands of France, Napoleon ap- 
 pears to have made the conscription much heavier on her, than on any of 
 her allies ; at least, one hears few complaints of it in Italy and Switzer- 
 
288 
 
 STATE OF ITALY. 
 
 land ; and when we contemplate on the other hand, how much good waf= 
 done ; public works, both of utility and magnificence everywhere carried 
 on ; the arts and sciences protected and encouraged ; an excellent code of 
 laws, well administered, and what is more extraordinary, political institu- 
 tions calculated to bring the people to act together, and favourable in no 
 small degree to public liberty ; one cannot but regret that the extravagant 
 ambition of that man should have rendered his authority incompatible 
 with the peace of Europe. Nor could I at all fear the duration of des- 
 potic power ; the seeds of liberty were so extensively sown ; the plants 
 had gained, and were annually gaining so much strength ; that if but a 
 few years of the progress had continued, and the strong hand which di- 
 rected their growth was then withdrawn ; it was impossible that they 
 should not display themselves. It may appear a strange paradox, but it 
 was certainly true, that from a despotic government, Italy was drinking 
 deeply the true spirit of liberty ; under a foreign power, acquiring ra- 
 pidly the sentiment of independence, and both circumstances were to be 
 traced to the just and equal laws, which did not permit one class of men 
 to oppress another, and which were gradually eradicating all the bad 
 habits and bad principles, resulting from a long continuance of corrupt 
 institutions ; which united all classes in the administration of the munici- 
 pal governments ; and from the gradual subsidence of those prejudices 
 which animated one town and one little territory against another. Now, 
 every thing is altered for the worse ; the consistent code of laws acting 
 uniformly over the whole country is abolished, and the old defective ones, 
 differently modified in every city, are restored ; a very few only of the 
 most glaring abuses being rectified. The finance laws indeed have not 
 been changed ; they vyere too productive to be abandoned. With all 
 this, it must be remembered, that however the Italians might feel the ad- 
 vantages of Napoleon's government, they have no sort of partiality for the 
 French nation. I am persuaded that your notion is perfectly just, and 
 that if at the end of the campaign of 1814, Napoleon could have secured 
 for himself the crown of Italy, or if now it were possible, that he should 
 obtain it without that of France ; all classes, both in the Milanese and the 
 old Venetian states would hail his arrival with transport. You must not, 
 however, expect any great efforts from them, or much personal risk for 
 any political object. They are not sufficiently habituated to think of 
 themselves as an essential part of the state machine, nor enough accus- 
 
STATE OF ITALY. 
 
 289 
 
 toned to act in union for any great purpose, nor have they sufficient con- 
 fidence in each other. Every body knows that the Italians do not like 
 the Austrian government. You know the emperor has changed his title, 
 and from being Francis the Second, is become Francis the First. I was 
 talking in the public saloon in the inn at Padua, about this alteration, 
 " Si," said an Italian gentleman, " si cliiamava Francesco secondo, adesso si 
 chiama Francesco primo, e sara J'orse Francesco imico." They laugh at 
 the Germans, and affect to despise them, but they hate the French more ; 
 and this feeling seems particularly strong in the ancient territory of 
 Venice. I had a long conversation with a young man who acted as 
 porter to the diligence at Vicenza, an office for which he is very unfit, as 
 he is of a very slender make, and in attempting to carry my trunk found 
 himself not sufficiently strong. Under the French he had an employment 
 in the military hospital, and all business there was transacted in Italian. 
 When the Austrians came, it was to be transacted in German, and this 
 young fellow was consequently turned out. Necessity drove him to under- 
 take any thing by which he could gain his bread ; meanwhile he is study- 
 ing German, in hope of regaining some situation similar to that which he 
 had lost. Here seem motives enough for soreness towards the Austrians, 
 yet he preferred them to the French, whose continual change of system 
 kept up a continual irritation. The Austrian hand is as heavy, or heavier 
 than that of the French, but it lies more quietly on the parts accustomed 
 to bear it. The feeling of discontent at present observable everywhere, 
 depends chiefly on the general poverty, and on the want of profitable em- 
 ployment, and these arise from a defective harvest and vintage, and from 
 a different mode of spending the public money. During the French ad- 
 ministration, a large proportion of the revenue was spent in the country, 
 and a good deal of it in works of public utility ; now, whether for show, 
 or use, or waste, every thing goes to Vienna. Public amusements are 
 cheap ; you pay at the opera ten pence, instead of ten shillings, but every 
 thing else is dear. The Italians complain that all the necessaries of life 
 are at least half as dear again as they were two years ago, and they attri- 
 bute this to the heavy taxes, and to all the money being taken out of the 
 country, and nothing spent in it. " Napoleon," said a gentleman to me 
 at Milan, "plucked the chicken, but blew the feathers about; Francis 
 plucks it still closer, and puts the feathers in his pocket. In Napoleon's 
 time there was a splendid court and large salaries, which were all spent 
 
 2 p 
 
290 STATE OF ITALY. 
 
 in the country. Roads were made, bridges and public buildings erected ; 
 now nothing is done ! Napoleon had numerous Italian soldiers ; Francis 
 has none, or hardly any. A lieutenant under Napoleon had a hundred and 
 tv;enty francs per month ; now he has about fifty." In whatever manner a 
 political subject begins, it ends in praise of Napoleon. Such remarks may 
 be true, but mere want of money cannot make corn, rice, oil, and polenta, 
 dear, though it may occasion a great deal of suffering ; on the contrary, it 
 would rather reduce the prices, though it would reduce in a still greater 
 degree the means of purchase ; misery makes people discontented, and 
 discontent makes them unjust. Mendicity is in the greatest excess, 
 and the beggars besiege the coffee-houses and churches, at neither of 
 which I dare give any thing, for if I did, I must give up all hope of a 
 quiet breakfast at the one, or of writing any observations, or making any 
 sketches in the other ; but the present distress of the country is so great, 
 that one cannot be surprised or angry. You are sometimes attacked by 
 noble beggars, both male and female, who whisper to you their demand 
 for charity. 
 
 The Italians, I believe, like the English, both as a nation and indivi- 
 dually, but there are some among them who are fond of proclaiming their 
 hatred to us. If you take the trouble to inquire into the cause of this 
 hatred, you are almost sure to find that it proceeds from our steady oppo- 
 sition to Napoleon. They consider the rest of Europe as having been 
 merely the tools of the English, and they are much dissatisfied with the 
 line of conduct adopted by the allies, all of which they attribute to us. It 
 is wonderful to see to what an extent the notion is carried, both in France 
 and Italy, that when England chooses to exert herself, she can do what- 
 ever she pleases. Even at Paris, many people are professedly angry with 
 the English, merely because they did not prevent the spoliation of the 
 gallery. In short whatever is done, is attributed to England, and what- 
 ever they wish done, which is not done, they suppose the English to have 
 prevented. However this tribute to our power and consequence may 
 flatter our national vanity, it is so misplaced as to be sometimes provok- 
 ing, especially when they complain of our not interfering, when we had 
 clearly no right to interfere. As to the allies, however, the Bolognese 
 have just cause of complaint, and I believe they have it in common with 
 many other Italian cities. Under the old government they had many pri- 
 vileges, and possessed some share of political freedom. They paid a cer- 
 
STATE OF ITALY. 
 
 291 
 
 tain sum annually to the papal government, which neither had nor claimed 
 any right to load them with new taxes for its own advantage. Under the 
 French, these privileges were partially destroyed ; but considerable autho- 
 rity was vested in the municipality, and the general government interfered 
 little, or not at all, with their internal policy ; while on the other hand, 
 the greater freedom given to their commerce, left them gainers by the ex- 
 change. Now they are given up to the absolute and uncontrolled domi- 
 nion of the pope. Can you tell me if legitimacy can be predicated of 
 kings alone, or do other forms of government partake of it ? The notion 
 of ancient rights and property is a fine thing, and the allies doubtless in- 
 sisted upon it with great justice from the French ; but do we not want a 
 fresh coalition, to make Russia disgorge Poland, and Austria the Vene- 
 tian states. Till this is done, it may be fair at least to suspect, that the 
 late contest was merely a struggle for power, and that ambition and 
 knavery existed as much on one side as on the other. 
 
 Even in Italy, Bologna is spoken of as a place whose inhabitants are 
 very superstitious. They are accused of wearing their hats lightly on 
 their heads, for the facility of pulling them off, on passing before the 
 numerous paintings of the Madonnas and saints which are found in the 
 streets. Some of them talked to me in a most serious manner, of the mi- 
 raculous virtues of a figure of the Virgin made by St, Luke, and of the 
 great confidence which the inhabitants placed in it. They have four pa- 
 tron saints, to whom their devotion seems very warm ; and I read in one 
 of their churches, a long form of prayer, recommended to be used towards 
 one of them, (S. Petronio) to whom every possible excellence and power 
 seem to be attributed, and who is implored to place the petitioner in Pa- 
 radise. . Towards the end is added a request, that he would obtain for 
 them the grace and favour of God, perhaps to avoid the charge of ido- 
 latry, for the saint seems all in all through the rest of the prayer. In the 
 long arcade which leads to the church of the Madonna del Monte, the 
 passenger is requested not to scribble upon, or otherwise deface the walls 
 and columns, " for if thou fear not the punishment assigned by the law to 
 such misdeeds, yet tremble at the indignation of the Virgin, to whom these 
 piers and arches belong." Indulgences are posted up at every church, 
 of ten, twenty, fifty, up to four hundred years ; but plenary indulgence is 
 had on such easy terms, that these are hardly worth notice. It is true 
 that all such indulgences are promised only on sincere repentance ; yet 
 
 2 p 2 
 
292 
 
 STATE OF ITALY. 
 
 even a Roman Catholic might observe, that they represent the Almighty 
 as less merciful than the Pope, and as granting exclusively at his instance, 
 that compassion and forgiveness which have been promised to all mankind. 
 We may add also, that it is impossible they should not convey a feeling, 
 that a repentance less perfect and sincere, a contrition less deep and 
 heartfelt, will be accepted under these terms, than would have been the 
 case without them, and the fact seems to be, that the slightest sentiment 
 of regret for the fault or crime committed, is too often considered as suf- 
 ficient. While it is so easy to escape, one might imagine purgatory would 
 be uninhabited. Yet lest any of their friends should be so foolish as to go 
 there, and strange follies are sometimes committed, it is a common prac- 
 tice at Bologna, to repeat a rosary before they go to bed, consisting of a 
 series of prayers to the Virgin Mary, in favour of the souls in purgatory. 
 In Roman Catholic countries a bell is rung at the close of day, and in 
 ancient times, every body stopt on hearing it, crossed himself, took off his 
 hat, and repeated a short prayer. At Venice this seems little attended 
 to, and at Bologna it is not much observed in the streets ; but in the 
 house, the master and Sig. Paolo always rise, put their knees on a 
 chair, cross themselves, and repeat the prayer. The Padrona in general 
 contrived to lose no time; and was either knitting, or taking care of the 
 fire, or otherwise employed in some domestic arrangement, while her lips 
 repeated the words ; and in general it seems as if, provided the prayer 
 were said, it was no matter how the attention wandered. There would be 
 something very beautiful in thus calling to the minds of all the inhabitants 
 of a great city, that they were Christians, and warning them to do no- 
 thing inconsistent with that character, if experience did not shew how 
 necessarily such an observance degenerates into an empty superstition. 
 
 I cannot leave Bologna without mentioning to you its great living won- 
 der. Professor Mezzofanti, who understands thirty-four languages (in- 
 cluding however, the different dialects of Italy) and who is as amiable 
 and obliging as he is learned. I was astonished at the facility with 
 which he changes from one language to another, talking to me in English, 
 to another person in Italian, to my friend Vracliotti, the young Greek stu- 
 dent, in modern Greek, to a Polish princess who came to visit the univer- 
 sity, in her own language, and in French to a gentleman of that nation, 
 who accompanied her ; and giving directions to the attendants in the li- 
 brary, in Bolognese ; all in the course of a few minutes, and without 
 
MEZZOFANTI. 
 
 293 
 
 ever confounding one language with another, or seeming in the least at a 
 loss. In speaking our tongue, I perceived that I could detect him to be a 
 foreigner in the cadence of his sentences, but hardly ever, or perhaps never, 
 in the pronunciation of individual words. This is the more wonderful, as 
 his knowledge of the language is derived entirely from books, and his 
 guide to its sounds has been Sheridan's Pronouncing Dictionary. 
 
294 
 
 LETTER XXI. 
 
 FLORENCE. 
 
 Florence* 26th December, 1816. 
 I LEFT Bologna on the 14th. Although thevettura arrived at my lodging 
 at half past five, we did not leave the city till half past seven ; because a 
 servant boy who was to have rode in the front, and who, according to our 
 vetturino, had received half a scudo as caparre, never made his appear- 
 ance. I do not know how to translate this word caparre. Earnest seems 
 to imply the payment in advance, of a portion of what will ultimately be- 
 come due ; but here he pays who is ultimately to receive. Indeed, the 
 whole system is very different from that of our country. It is usual to 
 set out very early in the morning, and after travelling about twenty miles, 
 stop for two or three hours, and then proceed twelve or fifteen miles 
 more, with the same horses. In summer the journeys are longer, and so 
 is the mid-day stop ; but I believe a regulation is in force, that the vettu- 
 rino shall not go farther than forty miles in one day, in order that he may 
 not interfere with the posting. At night the vetturino pays for your 
 supper, fire, and bed ; but you pay for whatever you have in the middle 
 of the day, and for breakfast, if you choose any. The usual practice among 
 the Italians, when travelling, seems to be to make only two meals in the 
 day, taking in the morning merely a cup of coffee without milk, a scanty 
 dinner, and as good a supper as the vetturino will give them. Generally 
 speaking, you pay about two crowns (or dollars) per diem, with something 
 more where there are mountains to cross, and where they have to attach 
 bullocks or additional horses to the carriage ; or in short, when there is any 
 particular circumstance on the road, which increases the expense to the 
 vetturino. It is usual to add a mancia, or present to the driver, if you 
 are served to your satisfaction ; and this may be reckoned at about two 
 pauls per day. 
 
 The road lies across the Apennines, which consist in a general view, of 
 one very gentle, but extensive swell, intersected by deep winding vallies. 
 
 * The observations on Florence were made principally on a subsequent visit, but I thought 
 it better to unite them together. 
 
CATHEDRAL AT FLORENCE- 
 
 295 
 
 The sides of these vallies are generally steep, but not absolutely precipi- 
 tous, or materially rocky, except in a few points which start up above 
 the rest. They are very much covered with wood, principally of chesnut- 
 trees, and present a variety of pleasing scenery. If you can in your ima- 
 gination magnify considerably, the country about Tunbridge Wells, you 
 will perhaps have as competent an idea as I can give you, of this part of 
 the range. Our driver was very anxious to get to Florence on the second 
 night, that he might not have to pay our expenses again, and we conse- 
 quently arrived at this city at about uii ora e mezza di notte. We reckon 
 here by Italian time, beginning at the Ave 31 aria, a little after sunset, 
 and reckoning round for twenty-four hours, till the Ave Maria of the next 
 evening. 
 
 Florence as a city does not please me so well as Bologna ; the streets 
 are narrower, and the palaces are like prisons. These streets are paved 
 with flag-stones of irregular forms, variously fitted to each other. They 
 have the appearance of wide foot-alleys ; so that while at Paris every body 
 has to walk on the carriage-road, at Florence all the carriages seem to be 
 on the foot-path. 
 
 The first building I went to examine was the Cathedral, a splendid 
 work externally, and quite sui veneris ; for though in classing it you must 
 put it with the Italian Gothic, already described, yet the style of orna- 
 ment is very different from any that we observe elsewhere. The erection 
 of this noble pile appears to have been decreed by the Florentine senate 
 in 1294, and the building was commenced in 1298. Florence was then, 
 according to Machiavelli, in its greatest prosperity, under a government 
 essentially democratical, but which still left considerable consequence and 
 power to the nobility. It must be confessed that these Italian citizens 
 had magnificent ideas. The architect was Arnolfo ; and since the whole 
 of the ground plan is certainly of his design, it would be extremely inter- 
 esting to ascertain how he intended to cover the great octagonal space in 
 the centre. Arnolfo died in 1330, and Giotto was substituted in his 
 place in 1334. I have an engraving professing to give the facade, as it 
 was first built, from the designs of Arnolfo, before that of Giotto, but this 
 can hardly be correct, as we find that in 1342, the work was only raised 
 just above the opening of the doors ; and we cannot suppose Giotto to 
 have first erected Arnolfo's design, and then demolished it to apply one of 
 his own ; and it seems certain that an elevation designed by Giotto, was 
 
296 
 
 CATHEDRAL AT FLORENCE. 
 
 really carried up to above the arches over the doors.* This, however, 
 was afterwards pulled down, and a new front raised, from a model made 
 under the direction of the Academy of design in the city. This again 
 was destroyed in 1688, and despairing of a marble front, the wall was 
 covered with a smooth surface of stucco, and the architecture painted 
 upon it. The weather will save the Florentines the trouble of destroying 
 this invention, since it is now almost obliterated. 
 
 To return to the building. We have various, though imperfect notices 
 of its progress till 1407, when the whole edifice was completed as far as 
 the upper outside cornice of the nave ; and it appears probable that both 
 the nave, and the three tribunes forming the remaining arms of the cross, 
 were vaulted and covered in. All this is said to be precisely according to 
 the design of Arnolfo ; but from the similarity of the style to that of the 
 Campanile, we may imagine that Giotto had some hand in the distribution 
 of the coloured marbles wiiich cover the brickwork of the first part of the 
 nave. The part behind the tribunes, from its similarity to that of the 
 baptistery, may be attributed to Arnolfo, while between Giotto's work 
 and the front, there is a small portion of later date. The difference of style 
 in these parts is not so great as to obtrude itself on a casual observer. 
 Brunelleschi advised the construction of the octangular drum under the 
 dome, with the circular windows, but whether this was his own design, or 
 the continuation of Arnolfo's, has been disputed. Perhaps he only sug- 
 gested some alterations. In 1419 this work was completed, and Brunel- 
 leschi was again consulted about the construction of the dome itself ; but 
 he had great difficulties to encounter. A meeting of architects and master- 
 builders was called, by whom his plan seems to have been generally dis- 
 approved, and even made a subject of ridicule. Perhaps this applies ra- 
 ther to the mode of carrying it into execution, than to the design itself. 
 Among various schemes proposed, one was to bury some money in a 
 vast mound of earth, corresponding in size and shape, with the proposed 
 edifice, to erect the dome upon this mound, and afterwards, as the cheap- 
 est way of removing the earth, to permit the populace to enter and dig for 
 the money. The building was under the care of the worJemen and consuls 
 of the ivoollen art ; or as we should say, the warden and assistants of the 
 clothworkers' company ; and they had the good sense and firmness to ap- 
 point Brunelleschi the architect. The clamours raised against his scheme, 
 
 * Sopra gli occhi che sono sopra le porte. 
 
CATHEDRAL AT FLORENCE. 
 
 297 
 
 had, however, so much effect, that another artist was joined with him in 
 the commission. We form a very mean opinion of this associate, when 
 we learn that Brunelleschi feigned himself ill ; and that the incompetency 
 of his companion thus becoming evident, the whole direction was com- 
 mitted to him. This dome or cupola, if measured on the angles, is some- 
 what larger than the Pantheon at Rome, and when measured on the sides, 
 not much less than that building, and wider than the dome of St. Peter's. 
 It is confined at the springing by a chain formed of wooden beams. The 
 difficulty of construction is however, much lessened by the solidity of 
 the mass on which it stands, and from its being carried up, in compliance 
 with the disposition of the ground plan, without the intervention of pen- 
 dentives, or any contrivance of that sort. It was. begun in 1420, and 
 finished in 1434 ; and in 1435, the church was dedicated by Pope Euge- 
 nius the Fourth. 
 
 After what I have already said, you will not ask me for any criticism 
 on the front of this building ; and in my observations on the appearance of 
 the sides, you will recollect that the work is not all finished, particularly 
 the upper part of the drum of the dome, where a parapet of small arches 
 has been commenced under the direction of Baccio d'Agnolo, and not 
 terminated. However, except in the fa<jade, and in a few slight deficien- 
 cies of this sort, the whole edifice is encrusted with red, black, and white 
 marbles, disposed in panels ; some square-headed, and some terminating in 
 pointed arches. There is a good deal of Gothic ornament about the 
 lower windows and doors, and this is more apparent in the part I have attri- 
 buted to Giotto and his successors, than in that of Arnolfo in the tribunes, 
 where most of the arches are semicircular. The windows of the clerestory 
 and of the drum of the dome, are circular, and without much ornament ; 
 but all the windows are small. You will not say that this is in good 
 taste, and it certainly cannot be praised for purity of design. In fact the 
 panelling does not agree with the arches, or cornice ; and neither of these, 
 with the windows. Yet station yourself at the south east angle, opposite 
 the part which is most complete, and you must acknowledge it a glorious 
 and magnificent building ; rich and splendid in all its parts, and beautiful 
 as a whole composition ; and if there be not perfect harmony in every 
 particular, there is nothing obtrusive or offensive ; nothing which does 
 not unite to the perfection of the whole. The inside of the nave is more 
 decidedly Gothic than the out ; it is very large, but not handsome, with 
 
 2 Q 
 
298 
 
 CATHEDRAL AT FLORENCE. 
 
 wide arches upon low piers ; the width of these openings being twenty- 
 eight braccia, each of 22,956 inches, i. e. 53 feet and a half English, which 
 is also the width of the nave, while the aisles are displeasingly narrow. The 
 piers are of brown stone, the walls and vaults whitewashed, and there is 
 very little ornament of any sort. There are no ridge-ribs in the vaulting, 
 and the ridges themselves are very much arched. An awkward gallery at 
 the springing of the vaulting cuts the lines, and hides the commencement 
 of the ribs. The arches are kept as usual by iron ties, the windows of 
 the clerestory are small and circular ; those of the aisles long, narrow, and 
 pointed. 
 
 
 Braccia. 
 
 Feet. 
 
 
 . 257 
 
 491 
 
 of the transept 
 
 . 154 
 
 294 
 
 of the nave and side aisles . . . 
 
 . 69 
 
 132 
 
 of the dome from side to side . . 
 
 . 72 
 
 138 
 
 of the dome from angle to angle . . 
 
 . 78 
 
 149 
 
 
 
 139 
 
 
 138 
 
 262 
 
 
 202 
 
 463 
 
 The whole of the part about the dome, is well and firmly built ; and the 
 exuberance of strength makes one conceive that Arnolfo intended some- 
 thing great in the centre. The diameter of the octagon is seventy-two 
 braccia, which is somewhat greater than the width of the three parts of 
 the nave united. Four of the sides are of course open to the four arms 
 of the cross ; two others open into the side aisles of the nave, and the re- 
 maining two into the sacristy. The dome is painted without any ribs or 
 panels, or other architectural decoration ; and in spite of its size, its 
 gloom, and its apparent solidity, the impression is not sublime. As we 
 usually see this building, the windows are shaded, and the chief light is 
 admitted from the doors. Nothing can be worse ; but we frequently find 
 the private apartments in Florence lighted from the lower part. The choir 
 is a great octagonal inclosure, immediately under the dome. This is also 
 said to be by Brunelleschi, but it is very ugly. There is hardly any thing 
 to be admired, either in the sculpture or painting of this church. It 
 boasts indeed a work of Michael Angelo, but unfinished, like most of his 
 productions ; and in so dark a place that it is hardly possible to see it at 
 
BAPTISTERY. 
 
 299 
 
 any time. More interest arises from the names of some great men 
 who were buried here ; Brunelleschi, Giotto, Dante, the first who dis- 
 tinguished themselves in the architecture, painting, and poetry, of 
 modern Europe. How terms change their signification in different 
 places ! Four hundred years gives a monument a full claim to antiquity 
 in England, but in Italy leaves it quite modern ; and I have heard of a 
 gentleman, who, in a conversation about Greek antiquities, was put in 
 mind of the fortifications of Messene, which are still nearly entire. ' Oh,' 
 replied he, ' but those are modern, only of the age of Epaminondas.' For 
 these nations to boast of their antiquity however, is just like an old man 
 boasting of those years which have robbed him of all his vigour, both of 
 body and mind. 
 
 From the cathedral I will take you to the Campanile, which stands just 
 by, built entirely by Giotto ; but if it was founded, as it is said to have 
 been, on the 8th of July, 1334, it could hardly have been completed 
 under his direction, since the latest account of his death fixes it in 1336, 
 and Milizia places it in 1334. It is 25 braccia (47 feet 8 inches) square on 
 the plan, and 144 braccia (294 feet 7 inches) in height. The building is 
 encrusted with red, black, and white marbles, like the cathedral, and like 
 it, is of a peculiar architecture ; for though the openings are pointed, 
 and have even a good deal of Gothic ornament, yet the whole character 
 of the building has hardly any thing in common with the spiry, ascend- 
 ing form of that style, as we see it executed in France and England. 
 For what it is, it is well composed, but we feel the want of any leading 
 lines, the horizontal and perpendicular equally breaking each other. 
 An Italian at Paris lifted up his hands and shoulders, when I praised the 
 simplicity of design in the internal architecture of the best Gothic 
 edifices ; but the Italians have no right to reproach the northern artists 
 with want of simplicity, since this never was the character of any period 
 of the art with them. The Romans perhaps, added richness and magni- 
 ficence to the Greek architecture, but they certainly, by introducing 
 complicated, and frequently ill-combining forms, injured its simplicity? 
 and if any thing like simplicity is found in some of the early restorers of 
 the Roman style, it was soon over, and never became the national cha- 
 racteristic. Michael Angelo, Palladio, Brunelleschi, are only simple by 
 comparison with the licentiousness of their successors. 
 
 These two buildings and the baptistery stand together, and form a 
 
 2 Q 2 
 
300 
 
 SANTA CROCE. 
 
 group, which is, I suppose, hardly to be paralleled. The latter is a large 
 octagonal edifice, covered with a dome, and is considered to have been 
 an ancient baptistery, erected when the practice of immersion was preva- 
 lent; but the precise date is unknown. The mosaic of the interior was 
 executed in 1260, and the marble incrustation of the outside in 1293, 
 from a design by Arnolfo. If this be correct, we may readily assign part 
 of the outside of the cathedral to the same artist, for the style much re- 
 sembles that of the back of the tribunes. It is however, almost cer- 
 tain, from the appearance of some of the windows, that it has undergone 
 alterations at a later period. Brunelleschi is said to have copied the 
 dome, in that of the cathedral. The bronze doors of this building, the 
 design of which is also attributed to Arnolfo, are much admired ; but I 
 shall enter into no particulars of what has been so often described. There 
 is one other building in Florence designed by Giotto. It was erected 
 for a corn market in 1337 ; afterwards it became a church, in consequence 
 of a figure of the virgin, painted by Ugolino da Siena, which obtained a 
 miraculous reputation during the plague which desolated Europe in 
 1348 ; and it is now a deposit for the archives of the city.* The lower 
 windows are semicircular-headed, divided into three lights, over which 
 are intersecting arches, also semicircular. The upper windows have 
 pointed arches, but I doubt if these belong to the original structure. 
 
 The church of Santa Croce was built by Arnolfo in 1294. The front is 
 of rough brickwork, the marble facing never having been executed, ex- 
 cept a course or two at the base. Internally, the design is Gothic, with 
 seven arches on each side. The side altars are of the Corinthian order, 
 with columns of macigno. This seems to be a micaceous sandstone, of 
 a gray colour ; a good, but not a handsome material ; the piers and ar- 
 chivolts of the building are coloured to imitate it : the rest is whitewash : 
 the architecture has very little ornament, and the whole effect is poor, 
 but it has been ill treated. As in most of the Gothic churches in 
 Florence, the arches of the nave rise above the capitals of the columns, 
 and the springing of the great vault, which has a very bad effect. Santa 
 Croce has another claim on our attention, as the burying place of many 
 distinguished men. Here lies Michael Angelo Buonarotti, painter, sculp- 
 tor, and architect, having obtained the most extravagant praises in each 
 art. A man of amazing talents, but so great a mannerist, that he is ac- 
 
 * In 182G I found it once more a church, and it contains a curious Gothic altar. 
 
SANTA MARIA NOVELLA. 
 
 301 
 
 cused of having spoiled the Florentine school in every thing ; and of great 
 industry ; but who, though his life was long, has left very little of finished 
 work behind him. Here lies Machiavelli, the keen observer, the pro- 
 found reasoner ; but who, in some of his works, seems to have forgotten 
 that there is in mankind a natural tendency to love truth and virtue. 
 Here also lies Micheli, one of the ablest botanists of modern Europe : 
 and we find many other of those great names, which have rendered 
 Florence so illustrious. Here likewise is Alfieri. Harsh, stern, rigid, 
 like Michael Angelo, and like him, possessing great powers, and strong 
 expression ; and being as great a mannerist. The duchess of York and 
 Albany has erected to Alfieri a monument of Canova's, at an expense of 
 4,500/. sterling. It is very large, but not beautiful. 
 
 Brunelleschi is said to have borrowed much from the two ancient 
 churches of San Remigio, and of the Santi Apostoli. The first is a 
 Gothic edifice, in which the divisions of the nave are about square, and 
 the springing of its vaults hardly higher than that of the side aisles. 
 It offers nothing remarkable as an object of study to the architect, but it 
 has considerable resemblance to Santa Maria Novella, the idea of which 
 is said to have been taken from this edifice. 
 
 At the Santi Apostoli is a range of columns of a tolerable Corinthian, 
 crowned with a large sima above the abacus, on which the arches rest ; 
 there is no cornice, or any continued straight line between the arches and 
 the ceiling, so that it cannot by any means be correctly said to exhibit 
 those peculiarities which mark the architecture of Brunelleschi. Both 
 these churches are believed to be of high antiquity, but the latter has been 
 restored, perhaps about the time of that artist, or not much before. 
 
 It is a pity that the passion, and means of building, had their chief in- 
 fluence at Florence, just as the Gothic taste began to disappear, and the 
 Roman to take its place. The Florentines, themselves, perhaps do not 
 think it a disadvantage, as it is owing to this coincidence that they are 
 able to boast of having led the way in the restoration of architecture. 
 But it is owing also to this, that so many of their buildings are unfinished ; 
 for since the old taste fell rapidly into extreme disrepute, they would not 
 venture to erect the facade, (always apparently the part last completed) 
 according to the original design, nor could they agree in any new design, 
 always out of harmony with the edifice ; and consequently it generally re- 
 mains in rough brickwork or plaster. The church of Santa Maria Novella 
 
302 
 
 SAN LORENZO. 
 
 is however one of those which has a facade. The body of the building 
 was begun in 1279, nineteen years before the cathedral, from the design 
 of two Dominican monks, Fra Sisto, and Fra Ristoro ; and was completed 
 in 1350. The facade was finished in 1477 ; the lower part reminds one 
 very much of the architecture of the baptistery, and probably was de- 
 signed by the original architects. The pedestal above this and the second 
 order may be of Leon Battista Alberti, to whom the whole is unjustly at- 
 tributed, but the great side scrolls are perhaps posterior to him. There is 
 a date of 1470 on the frieze. Internally, there are six Gothic arches, of 
 which the larger are about equal to the width of the nave : each has a 
 small circular window over it ; thus you see, it belongs to that style for 
 which I have so often wanted a name, but of which the church of Sta. 
 Anastasia at Verona, is still my favourite example. The transept has no 
 effect, because there is no additional height or light at the intersection, 
 yet it is a very fine building. The high altar is a recent production, and 
 though not very good in itself, and perhaps rather too large, is neverthe- 
 less a fine object, and fills its situation nobly. The side chapels are said, 
 in the Description of Florence, to be of one order ; but this is not cor- 
 rect. They are all of the same style, but of no order, and all in some de- 
 gree different ; they all agree however, in one particular, as each of them 
 is surmounted with a broken angular pediment within an entire circular 
 one. 
 
 Let us now pass to Brunelleschi's architecture, as exemplified in the 
 two magnificent churches of S. Lorenzo, and Santo Spirito ; and first of 
 San Lorenzo, which was founded in 1425. The front, as usual, is un- 
 finished, nor does this militate against my theory of the cause of the un- 
 finished state of the Florentine edifices ; for although Brunelleschi com- 
 pletely drove out the old style, he did not bring in his own ; and the 
 style of ecclesiastical building, after his death, is extremely different from 
 any thing which he performed. How he would have managed his fronts, 
 I do not know, as it does not appear that any of them were ever exe- 
 cuted. The inside is fine, and even sublime, in spite of all the faults which 
 I am going to enumerate. It is 144 braccia (275 feet 5 inches) in length, 
 and 36 (68 feet 10 inches) wide, inclusive of the side chapels ; the length of 
 the transept is 60 braccia (114 feet 9 inches). On entering the great door- 
 way, you have a long and noble range of Corinthian columns on each side, 
 supporting arches ; above these is a continued entablature, over which is 
 
SAN LORENZO. 
 
 303 
 
 an upright wall, with narrow semicircularly headed windows, and a flat 
 ceiling, divided into square compartments. The aisles are covered with 
 groined arches, and beyond the aisles is a range of side chapels, which are 
 very rudely finished. Over these side chapels, in the semicircular cross 
 arches of the aisles, there were originally circular windows, but these are 
 now filled up. This disposition, exhibiting two ranges of columns, which 
 divide the building into three unequal parts, was that of the ancient basi- 
 licas, and of the early churches which were copied from them. In some of 
 these, the columns were surmounted immediately by an entablature ; in 
 others, they supported arches. Brunelleschi seems to have particularly ad- 
 mired and studied the latter form, and has imitated it more than once. It 
 has some advantages and some disadvantages inseparably connected with it ; 
 but this building has also many defects quite its own. The arches spring 
 from an entablature which crowns the column, and faces four ways. 
 Arches springing immediately from the capital, are thought objectionable, 
 from an appearance of weakness and insufficiency, and yet, even this very 
 appearance contributes to the lightness and elegance of the building; 
 provided there is nothing to contradict it, by giving apparent weight 
 above. Perhaps the best way is to put a strong block at the top of the 
 capital, or to increase the thickness of the abacus. Instead of these an 
 architrave only might be introduced ; but this, retreating again to the 
 size of the column, is not satisfactory. At any rate, the whole entabla- 
 ture has a very bad effect, as it looks like a second capital, larger indeed, 
 but not at all stronger than the first ; and besides, has the absurdity of 
 suggesting the appearance of a roof^, where it is evident no roof can pos- 
 sibly be. Passing along the building, you observe that the piers, which 
 support the cupola at the intersection of the cross, are much too small ; 
 they are indeed larger than the others, but not by any means in propor- 
 tion to the duty they have to perform. You will understand these re- 
 marks to apply to the effect to the eye only. I do not pretend to have 
 calculated the weight each part has to sustain, or to know whether, in 
 this point of view, they are justly proportioned. The design would be 
 better without either transept or cupola. Or if these were essential, the 
 termination of the nave should be strongly marked as the completion of 
 one part, and the commencement of another. All the details of the 
 mouldings, capitals, &c. are bad. The columns and pilasters are of the 
 dun macigno, and the archivolts and architraves are of the same ; but the 
 
304 
 
 SAN LORENZO. 
 
 friezes are mostly whitewashed, and so are all the upright faces of wall ; 
 and the effect of this dull, heavy, gray, on the glaring white ground, is as 
 bad as you can imagine. There is a much greater extent of this plain 
 surface, and consequently of whitewash, in the tribune, (i. e. that part of 
 the cross beyond the transept,) than in the rest of the church ; and thus, 
 the parts about the high altar, which ought in some degree to partake of 
 its splendour and high finish, instead of being the richest, are the poorest 
 in the whole building. On one of my visits here I found workmen em- 
 ployed in hanging it with drapery of scarlet and silver tissue. The Roman 
 catholic clergy are probably right in preferring these temporary orna- 
 ments, to those which are of a more permanent nature, and connected 
 with the architecture ; what is always visible loses its effect. From the 
 church we pass into the Sagrestia Nuova, or Capella de' Depositi, of the 
 architecture of Michael Angelo Buonarotti, with tombs designed by him, 
 and sculpture of his execution. How much were my expectations raised ! 
 I had seen indeed, here and there, some unfinished piece of his sculpture, 
 and some architecture doubtfully attributed to him ; but here it seemed 
 as if I were going to be personally introduced to this wonderful man. 
 How was I disappointed ! The mixture of the usual dark, dun stone and 
 whitewash would to be sure spoil any architecture, and the beauty of a 
 small room like this depends much more on such accessories, than that of 
 a spacious church ; but here is really nothing to spoil. Simplicity I did 
 not expect, but this has neither grace nor boldness, lightness nor magni- 
 ficence. The tombs please me as little as the building, and shall I venture 
 to tell you, (but it must be in a whisper) that the four great figures of 
 Day and Night, Dawn and Twilight, are overcharged in their limbs and 
 muscles, and awkward and uneasy in their attitudes. There is also a 
 Madonna and Child by the same artist. The Infant Christ is a young 
 Hercules, and the Madonna evidently uncomfortable. I could not get it 
 out of my head that she was seeking her pocket-handkerchief 
 
 Here is another sacristy as it is called, which was begun in 1604, from 
 the designs of Don Giovanni de' Medici, but it has never been finished. 
 This likewise was intended for the burying place of the Medici family, but 
 was also to have had a much more glorious relic. Ferdinand I., grand 
 duke of Tuscany, conceived the idea of obtaining, and depositing in it, 
 the Holy Sepulchre itself ; and is said to have made some progress towards 
 obtaining it, when the Turks discovered and broke off the negotiation. 
 
SANTO SPIRITO. 
 
 305 
 
 The building was to have all the beauty that materials could give; and the 
 walls are resplendent with granites, jaspers, and the most costly marbles. 
 The form is octagonal, 48 braccia, or 91 feet 3 inches in diameter ; and a 
 large and lofty room, of a simple form, always has some beauty of effect ; 
 beyond this, praise must not go, for the design is very bad, and with all 
 this profusion of fine stones, the effect is nothing in point of richness, to 
 that of the church of the Scalzi at Venice. I believe I did not mention 
 this building to you in my letter from that city, but it is well worth at- 
 tention on this account, though in other respects little can be said in its 
 praise. 
 
 We will now proceed to the Church of the Holy Ghost, also built by 
 Brunelleschi. This is 304 feet long ;* the nave is 102 feet wide, in- 
 cluding the side aisles, and the length of the transept is 186 feet ; the 
 front, as usual, is unfinished. The internal arrangement, as I have al- 
 ready mentioned, is pretended to have been borrowed from that of the 
 Santi Apostoli. It very much resembles S. Lorenzo, but with somewhat 
 greater magnificence, since the columns and arches which form the aisles 
 of the nave, are here continued round the transept and choir ; and it is lia- 
 ble to the same objections ; the detached entablatures forming so many se- 
 condary capitals ; the high plain frieze of the continued entablature above 
 the arches; the weakness at the intersection; the dull, heavy-coloured stone, 
 which has here however, taken a tint rather browner and better than 
 usual; and the whitewash, which is rather less obtrusive in this church 
 than in that of S. Lorenzo, from the continuance of the columns and arches 
 behind the choir ; and this number of columns produces a movement at 
 every step of the spectator which is enchanting. The part above the 
 cornice is too low. If the cornice were placed its whole height lower 
 down, this division, and the frieze, would both be in good proportion, 
 and the effect greatly improved. The ceiling is not so well disposed as 
 that of San Lorenzo ; and under the cupola is another (the third) entabla- 
 ture, of enormous size. The side-chapels are merely niches, surrounded 
 by a magnificent moulding, and the altars are all very bad ; yet with all 
 its faults, no one can enter it without feeling it to be a noble building. 
 The atrium of the sacristy is a gallery, with a range of Corinthian columns 
 
 * 160 br. long. 
 64 wide. 
 98 transept. 
 
 2 R 
 
306 
 
 CARMINE. 
 
 on each side. These support an architrave, on which rises a semicircular 
 vault ; the effect is beautiful, and it came upon me just when I was specu- 
 lating on the best mode of employing together columns and a vault. The 
 eye finds no sort of deficiency in the absence of a cornice. The sacristy 
 itself is a handsome octagonal room, without any thing very remarkable. 
 
 The Church of the Annunziata is said to have been built about 1250, 
 but it has been modernized. In front is a court surrounded by arches, on 
 ten columns resembling Corinthian. The walls of this cloister have been 
 painted in fresco, partly by Andrea di Sarto, who has left here some of his 
 most beautiful productions in this way. His famous Madonna del Sacco 
 is in another cloister, attached to this church. In 1252 the edifice must 
 have been far advanced, for the good fathers employed at that time an ar- 
 tist of the name of Bartolommeo, to paint the Annunciation, in fresco, on 
 the wall. This painter having completed the angel, stood hesitatingly, 
 not knowing how to satisfy himself in the divine countenance of the vir- 
 gin, and in this state was overtaken by sleep ; when he awoke, he beheld 
 to his great astonishment the painting of the head of the virgin com- 
 pleted, of the most exquisite beauty, and the most heavenly expression. 
 Quite transported, he began calling out, a miracle ! a miracle ! and at- 
 tracted such crowds that the church was soon filled ; " and, in order," 
 continues my author, " that nobody might be able to doubt the fact, God 
 performed by means of this image numerous miracles, and continues still 
 to do so." 
 
 Internally, the church consists of a nave and side-chapels. It abounds 
 with defects, and is over gilt and ornamented, yet on the whole it is a 
 very handsome room. Beyond this, the tribune is a large circular domed 
 room of purer architecture, which was designed by L. B. Alberti ; but 
 even this, though very fine, is far from correct, and when I say so, I would 
 not leave you to suppose that he has " snatched a grace beyond the reach 
 of art," but that his building would really have been much more beauti- 
 ful had he deviated less from the approved standards. The dome is en- 
 tirely painted, and though this is common at Florence, and when well 
 executed often looks very well, yet I cannot entirely approve of it. The 
 architecture below requires solid ribs, or something else, corresponding 
 with it in the upper part : the covering, as well as the sides of the room, 
 should be architecture, and not a painted brass pan. 
 
 The Church of the Madonna del Carmine was once famous for its 
 
SAINT MARK. 
 
 307 
 
 paintings ; but these were destroyed by fire, with the ancient edifice, in 
 1771. A new church was immediately built; the plan of which consists 
 of a long room without side-aisles, leading to a dome ; and three recesses, 
 which with the nave form a Latin cross. The nave has Corinthian 
 pilasters, spaced alternately at larger and smaller intervals, with an 
 elliptical recess for the altars in each of the larger spaces : in every smaller 
 space is a door, or the semblance of one, and over the doors are niches, in 
 each of which is a figure, painted on a piece of pasteboard, corresponding 
 to its size and form, to supply the place of statues. The ceiling is waggon- 
 headed, rising from a small dado above the cornice. The line of the 
 nave is slightly interrupted at the intersection of the cross ; and instead 
 of the dark stone and whitewash, the pilasters are painted white on a pale 
 blue ground ; both these circumstances are greatly in favour of the 
 building, and the simplicity of design, and justness of the general propor- 
 tions produce a pleasing effect. 
 
 The church of St. Mark is principally famous for the paintings of Fra . 
 Bartolommeo di San Marco, who, if you except Michael Angelo, stands 
 quite at the head of the Florentine school of painting. The outside is 
 neat, and does not pretend to be any thing more. The inside is very 
 ugly, but I principally mention it to you as an exemplification of the 
 modern Italian taste. It is usual on feast days to adorn the columns and 
 pilasters of the churches with drapery, which is often of crimson damask ; 
 but here the tapestry was particularly abundant, striped of the most 
 brilliant red, and yellow, and very much admired. There is also an 
 admirable statue of St. John the Baptist, by John of Bologna, who was 
 the architect of the church, and a particularly fine figure, painted in 
 fresco by Passignano. These and some others were pointed out to me 
 as cose stupende, an expression of praise very common, and which at first 
 I thought applied to things which did not deserve so high an encomium : 
 but at one of the inns where I stopped lately, on inquiring what I could 
 have to eat, they told me that nothing was ready at the moment, but 
 that in about half an hour, I could have some boiled beef, which would 
 be cosa stupenda, and I have been reconciled to the term ever since. 
 
 From ecclesiastical, we will turn our attention to civil and domestic 
 architecture, which in Florence has a character quite its own. The 
 continued dissensions within the city, and especially the bitter and 
 lengthened contests between the nobles and the people, obliged the 
 
 2 R 2 
 
308 
 
 CIVIL ARCHITECTURE. 
 
 former to prepare even their city-houses for a siege, and the fashion 
 continued, when, after the victory of the trading classes over the nobles, 
 or landed proprietors, a new nobility sprang up among the principal 
 merchants. Machiavelli paints in strong colours, the arbitrary, op- 
 pressive, and tyrannical conduct of the old nobility, which obliged the 
 citizens to arm in their own defence ; and the haughty contempt of all 
 law and justice, which at length terminated in their downfall. Yet he 
 continues, " This overthrow of the nobles was so complete, and their 
 party so entirely crushed, that they never more ventured to take arms 
 against the people, but became continually more tame and abject ; and 
 thence it arose, that Florence was not only deprived of native defenders, 
 but of all generosity of sentiment and conduct." In these contests each 
 party seems to have persecuted the other to the utmost ; there was no 
 forbearance towards a conquered enemy, no amalgamation between the 
 parties, no numerous and respectable intermediate classes, whose views 
 and interest would in some degree take the colour of each. No sen- 
 timent existed but that one party must govern, and the other must be 
 slaves. 
 
 The Palazzo Vecchio is what we might expect from such a state of 
 society. It was built by Arnolfo in 1298 ; and if it cannot boast much 
 architectural beauty, certainly combines with other objects to give a 
 most striking, or, if I may use a French term, a piquant effect to the 
 square. The irregularity of its plan is a curious evidence of the violence 
 of party spirit, since it arose from the determination of the ruling party, 
 not to make use of any ground which had belonged to a Ghibelline. 
 Close by its entrance is a fountain surrounded with gigantic figures in 
 marble ; and on the other side is the Loggia, the architecture of Andrea 
 Orcagna in 1356. It is said that M. A. Buonarotti, being consulted on 
 a building for the use of the magistracy, recommended to Cosmo, the 
 first grand duke of Tuscany, to complete the Loggia of Orcagna round 
 the square ; but as the construction of the five arches had cost 86,000 
 florins, this idea was never executed. Though erected after the death 
 of Giotto, and before the restoration of Roman architecture, it is not 
 Gothic, but consists of semicircular arches resting on columns ; and it 
 is designed with great judgment and feeling. Some very beautiful pieces 
 of sculpture are placed in it, particularly the Perseus of Benvenuto Cellini, 
 in bronze, one of the most admirable productions of modern art. 
 
CIVIL ARCHITECTURE. 
 
 309 
 
 Tlie famous Gallery surrounds three sides of a court which opens into 
 this square ; the upper story was originally an open gallery, which it has 
 been found necessary to inclose, to protect the works of art which are 
 treasured there. The architecture perhaps was never very good, but 
 the building must have been much handsomer before this alteration. 
 
 The Palazzo Pitti, the present residence of the grand duke, though of 
 a much later, is hardly of a less massive construction than the Palazzo 
 Vecchio. It was built by Luca Pitti, a friend of the Medici, from designs 
 by Brunelleschi ; and the court, which is the part most admired, is an 
 attempt to engraft the Roman orders on the bold and irregular rustics of 
 the Florentine architecture. It has three orders of pilasters banded with 
 rustics of the rudest appearance, and half buried in them. The inside 
 contains some fine rooms, and a matchless collection of pictures, but of 
 this I must not say a word. I might mention a great many other palaces, 
 some of which boast peculiar excellences in particular parts, but on the 
 whole I think the Palazzo Riccardi is the best example of the true Flo- 
 rentine style. It was built by Cosmo, ( pater patria ) from designs of 
 Michelozzo, but was purchased by the Marchese Riccardi in 1659, for 
 41,000 scudi, and considerably enlarged. The principal story now exhi- 
 bits a range of seventeen large arched windows, each divided by a mullion 
 into two parts, which are likewise arched. These windows are very 
 large, and the space between is not quite equal to the opening and 
 mouldings ; but the width of the latter is not great, as there is no archi- 
 trave or archivolt. The arch-stones are long, and strongly rusticated, 
 the external line forming a portion of a circle not concentric with that of 
 the opening. The height of the windows occupies about half the space 
 between the two cornices. On the ground floor are five large doorways, 
 and ten small square windows. This story is very lofty : a continued 
 stone projection forms a seat along the base of the building. The rusti- 
 cations are some of them very deep, more so in this story than in the 
 upper ones, but they are very unequal, as they usually are in the Floren- 
 tine buildings. I have measured in the same front, some of more than a 
 foot in projection, and others of less than two inches. In this story, we 
 frequently see a small opening, at w hich wine is, or has been sold. The 
 upper story is like the principal, except in height, and it is crowned with 
 an enormous cornice, occupying about one-tenth of the whole elevation 
 of the building. A corresponding frieze and architrave would include 
 
310 
 
 CIVIL ARCHITECTURE. 
 
 the whole upper story. It is objected as a fault to this building that the 
 openings in the lower story do not correspond with the upper ones, and 
 the criticism is very just, as applied to the larger openings, but with 
 respect to the above-mentioned ten small windows, it is perhaps rather 
 an advantage. Without disputing the general rule, that the openings 
 should be perpendicularly over one another, it seems to me that two 
 exceptions may fairly be made : the first in small buildings of no preten- 
 sion to magnificence, where the appearance of convenience may be al- 
 lowed to outweigh the character of durability ; for it is to be observed, 
 that a building may both be, and appear, perfectly sufficient for its present 
 existence, where this rule is not adhered to ; but it will not have the air 
 of being intended to last for centuries. It is the habitation of an indi- 
 vidual, not that of an illustrious family. The other, is where the general 
 appearance is so solid, and the openings are so small, that it seems not to 
 matter where they are put ; and in that case, their very want of corres- 
 pondence announces an exuberance of power which disdains attention to 
 trifles, and what is in some degree a source of absolute weakness, becomes 
 a mean of expressing strength. 
 
 The Strozzi Palace is more generally admired than the Riccardi ; 
 partly on account of the irregularity just mentioned in the windows of 
 the latter, and partly from the greater beauty and finish of the subordinate 
 parts of the former. The enormous cornice in particular, seven feet, nine 
 inches in height, is highly valued, both for its proportions, and its execu- 
 tion. I fully acknowledge its merits in both respects, but I think it too 
 large even for the gigantic building which it crowns ; and its highly 
 finished character is not in harmony with the massive rudeness of the 
 lower parts. In every building where this great cornice is adopted, it 
 gives to the upper story the appearance of being much higher than the 
 others, but without larger windows. In fact there seems to be a want of 
 good sense in this ponderous architecture as applied to private buildings ; 
 and I admire without being pleased. Yet I acknowledge that even some 
 of the smaller mansions of this style have considerable merit, but it would 
 appear ridiculous in houses so small as ours in London. The parts must 
 be large, though they need not be numerous. Sometimes, a striking 
 contrast is produced by a light open gallery surmounting these solid 
 masses, and the effect is highly picturesque. A house in the Piazza del 
 Granduca (Pandolfini) is attributed to Raphael, but perhaps without 
 
CIVIL ARCHITECTURE. 
 
 311 
 
 sufficient authority. The lower story is rustic ; the next has an Ionic 
 order of coupled pilasters on high plinths ; the third, a similar Corinthian 
 one, on pedestals so lofty, that they might rather be called stilts : the 
 composition is not pleasing, but only a very small part of the design has 
 been executed, and it would look better if more extended. The Casa 
 Michelozzi is sometimes said to be the production of Michael Angelo, but 
 is more probably that of G. Antonio Dosio. It is small, but handsome, 
 though perhaps rather clumsy in the details. 
 
312 
 
 LETTER XXII. 
 
 JOURNEY TO ROME. 
 
 Rome, Ind January, 1817. 
 
 My impatience to arrive at Rome did not permit me to remain long at 
 Florence, and I must postpone any account of its neighbourhood to my 
 next visit, which I hope will be in a more favourable time of year ; but 
 [ must say a few words on Fiesole, which I have visited, and found the 
 walk to it most delightful, even on Christmas-day ; as it is situated on a 
 hill, the ascent to which completely commands the rich and beautiful val- 
 ley of the Arno. There are some fragments of Ionic columns near the 
 convent of St. Francis, which is supposed to occupy the situation of the 
 ancient citadel of this little rival of Florence ; and there are some ancient 
 graves, hollowed in the slaty rock, about six feet long, eighteen inches 
 wide, and two feet and a half deep. I observed also a larger pit, of a 
 circular plan, but enlarging, like a bell, as it descends, and was informed 
 that two other similar ones had been discovered and filled up. If these 
 were repositories for corn, it seems singular that we should find them in 
 such close neighbourhood with those for the dead. Here is a Cathedral 
 which pleased me by the uniformity of its sober brown colour, after my 
 eye had been disgusted with the gaudy dressings of the Florentine 
 churches ; but it is a rude, and not otherwise a handsome building. A 
 little out of the road to Fiesole is the church of the Badia, said to have 
 been built by Brunelleschi for Cosmo, P. P. Nothing of the front is 
 finished except a portion in marble, whose style is at least as early as the 
 lower part of the fa<^ade of Santa Maria Novella. 
 
 I left Florence, in company with Mr. Scott, on the 26th of December, 
 at about half past ten in the morning. Our companions were two Ger- 
 man artists. One had been travelling about for several years, drawing 
 landscape, which he touches very prettily. The other was a young 
 student of eighteen, who means to spend four or five years in Rome. 
 The journey is hilly, with more cultivation and less wood than that I had 
 passed in coming from Bologna ; yet there are some woods, and some 
 large trees (many of which are stone pines) scattered here and there, and 
 
SIENA. 
 
 313 
 
 the cultivated land is frequently shaded with olives and vines ; so t*hat 
 the same ground produces at one time corn, wine, and oil. The Apen- 
 nines run into long lines, rising frequently into obtusely conical sum- 
 mits, each of which is crowned by a castle, a village, or a convent. They 
 present no precipitous faces, but their successive ranges fall in well va- 
 ried, sweeping lines, with occasionally a detached hill standing out from 
 the great body. We slept at a little place called Poggi Bonzi, once an 
 independent republic, which we left at five the next morning. There are 
 some very picturesque castelli on the road. The English castle is, or 
 was, a fortified house ; these Italian castelli were fortified villages. As 
 we approach Siena, the villas are numerous ; and as the Vetturino enu- 
 merated the excellences of each, he never failed to mention the ice- 
 house and the garden-theatre. 
 
 Siena occupies the irregular summit of a commanding eminence, and 
 contains in itself many interesting objects ; but I was rather surprised to 
 find the Florentine guttural so strongly retained in the pronunciation. 
 The first time I heard this Tuscan peculiarity, it was in the expression 
 Riveris ho vossignoria, but though called a guttural, it would be more 
 correct (in Florence, at least,) to call it a very strong aspiration. " How 
 is this room called ?" I asked at the Corsini Palace at Florence, which 
 was the first I went to see, L,a seho?ida cmtiliamera was the reply. At 
 Siena, in the chapel of the hospital, I inquired the name of the author of 
 one of the pictures, and was told in reply, that it was Sehastiano Honha. 
 I thought the sound more guttural than at Florence ; but my guide was 
 a native of Siena. This pronunciation is not peculiar to the common 
 people of Tuscany ; you hear it from all ranks. To make amends, they 
 pronounce the h in Latin words as if it were k. The Florentines also 
 pronounce ci, ce, in the manner which, in our mode of spelling, would be 
 indicated by she, sha, and they often give a nasal tone to their words. I 
 do not know how far these customs extend. 
 
 The Piazza, i. e. the principal opening in the city, the square, if you 
 please, only it is frequently, as in this instance, not rectangular, is like 
 half a great shallow basin, or rather like half a tea-saucer, with the go- 
 vernment palace and its lofty tower at the bottom. 
 
 The Cathedral is only a small part of what was intended. It was 
 founded, as we are told, in the thirteenth century, but it is not all of 
 one date ; and the tower appears to be older than the rest, as it much 
 
314 
 
 SIENA. 
 
 resembles that of S. Zeno at Verona. The front was erected in 1284 by 
 Giovanni di Pisa. It a good deal resembles that of the cathedral at Or- 
 vieto, erected probably about the same time by Lorenzo Maytani, a Sienese, 
 whose name I have met with on no other occasion ; it is ornamented 
 with horizontal bands of black and white marble ; and this disposition, 
 which prevails all through the building, is said to have been adopted be- 
 cause the banner of Siena is in black and white stripes ; but the Italians 
 are fond of stripes, and they frequently occur where no such explanation 
 can be given. It is a rich, but hardly handsome front. Its great defect 
 is that the apparent solids are not placed well above each other. A great 
 many fragments remain, of the parts once intended, and begun, but not 
 completed. They prove the immense size of the design. The present 
 nave and choir were to have formed the two arms of the cross ; but as 
 the dome at the intersection rises on an hexagonal plan, two sides of 
 which open into the present nave and choir, it follows that an angle and 
 its supporting pier would have been in the middle of the opening of the 
 new nave. The walls are striped internally, in the same manner as on 
 the outside, but in the lower part this is not very offensive, because the 
 marble has there acquired a warm tinge, which does not extend equally to 
 the upper part ; however, the effect is much softened by the painting and 
 gilding of the vaults. The piers are crippled, and it appears by the swel- 
 ling of the pavement, that they have sunk a little into the ground. The 
 lower arches of the nave are semicircular, but those of the clerestory, and 
 the windows in them, are painted ; with tracery such as in England we 
 might refer to the beginning of the reign of Edward III. The continued 
 vaulting of the nave, as well as of the side aisles, is semicircular. The 
 capitals are ornamented with foliage and figures. There is no triforium. 
 
 A series of heads of popes, alternating with triglyphs, forms a sort of 
 entablature over the lower arches ; and circular niches with busts, occur 
 in the spandrils. Some change of design seems to have taken place in 
 the progress of the work ; and in the choir, some of the arches appear to 
 be obtusely pointed ; they spring from a pedestal above the capital, and 
 the lower capitals are omitted. Here then is another style of the archi- 
 tecture of the middle ages, which can hardly be classed either with our 
 Norman or Gothic, and which, in a large building like this, where all the 
 parts are rich, splendid, and harmonious, can hardly fail to be magnificent. 
 Yet I would by no means recommend it as a model. The pavement is 
 
SIENA. 
 
 315 
 
 covered with a sort of engraving on a large scale, by lines upon the marble, 
 from designs of Beccafiumi. There is some shading produced by a pale 
 gray marble, and a small quantity of black and of buff", of which latter, 
 however, little use is made. In order to preserve the work, the best part 
 is covered with boards, and instead of a rich effect, we have the appear- 
 ance of poverty. The sacristy is adorned with a history of Eneas Syl- 
 vius, afterwards Pope Pius II., partly painted by Raphael at a very early 
 age, and partly from his designs ; and in the same room, is a most beau- 
 tiful antique groupe of the three graces, one of which in particular, is an 
 exquisite figure. 
 
 Under the cathedral is a subterranean church dedicated to San Gio- 
 vanni, to which you obtain a level access from a lower street : we visited 
 it, but did not find any thing particularly worthy of observation. 
 
 After having surveyed the cathedral, we were conducted to the Hospital, 
 from the back window of whose hall, is a very beautiful view. In the 
 church, or chapel of this establishment, the circular tribune is painted so 
 as to represent a perspective of straight-lined architecture. An ingeni- 
 ous and difficult folly, which can only look well just in one point of view, 
 and everywhere else is distorted, or rather indeed, totally unintelligible. 
 
 The church of San Domenico deserves a visit from the architect. The 
 nave is about seventy-five feet wide, and three times as much in length, 
 and the transept is not much less ; and this unencumbered space has a 
 noble effect. Beyond the transept is a range of seven chapels ; in one 
 of which is a painting by Guido di Siena, a cotemporary of Giotto : but 
 he was rather a maker of pictures in the Greek style, than a restorer of 
 the art. There is an interesting gallery in the city, containing a great 
 number of very early paintings. 
 
 Siena is said at one time to have had a population of a hundred thou- 
 sand inhabitants, which are now reduced to seventeen thousand. I sus- 
 pect some exaggeration in the first number ; but there can be no doubt 
 that a very great change has taken place. It was the rival of Florence, 
 and like the other Italian republics, always at war with its neighbours, or 
 wasted by internal dissensions. Then it was commercial, flourishing, 
 and populous. Now under a peaceable government, and very far from 
 an oppressive one, grass grows in the deserted streets. How is this to 
 be accounted for ? After leaving Siena, the country became less pleasing, 
 consisting of bare clay hills, the highest of which, as at Siena itself, are 
 
 2 s 2 
 
316 
 
 VENTRILOQUIST, 
 
 crowned with a sandy stratum, which rarely can deserve to be called 
 rock. It contains shells, but they are very tender, and I did not succeed 
 in procuring any. 
 
 The tops and flatter spaces of these hills are not unproductive. I met 
 indeed some Italians who complained of the barrenness of this country. 
 I remarked to them that the remaining stubble proved it to have been 
 cultivated ; but perhaps, said I, the grain is in small quantity, or of bad 
 quality. No, it was both plentiful and good, but the soil produced no- 
 thing else ; neither vines nor olives. There is no wood. The rain is 
 continually moving the soil, and furrowing the slopes of the hills in vari- 
 ous directions, leaving or making, conical points of naked earth, with 
 hardly any trace of vegetation. Earthquakes are frequent, but they seem 
 rather to be landslips arising from the nature of the material which forms 
 the hills, than the violent convulsions we usually understand by that name. 
 
 A second carriage had been following us for some time, and on arriv- 
 ing at our sleeping place at Buon Convento, we found that it contained 
 two brothers. Frenchmen, the younger of whom was very handsome, and 
 perfectly conscious of it. We had all united round the same fire, when 
 the elder brother started up, exclaiming there was a mouse, and in fact 
 something seemed to be running about the room, and hiding itself occa- 
 sionally in the clothes of the company. The younger German almost 
 fancied himself bitten, and had pulled off his coat to shake off the trouble- 
 some animal, before we discovered that our companion was a ventrilo- 
 quist. He amused us afterwards with various stories of tricks that he 
 had put upon custom-house officers, by one of which lately at Scarical- 
 asino, he had prevented the examination of his luggage ; and once in the 
 south of France he frightened away some robbers, who were going to 
 rifle his trunk. On another occasion he amused himself with making a 
 Jew believe he had a rat about him, till the poor fellow stript himself al- 
 most naked, to get rid of it. The next day the Jew came into a coffee- 
 house where our ventriloquist was seated, and without seeing him, abused 
 ' him violently for the trick he had played. The day after, our companion 
 procured a living rat, and wrapped it up very carefully in paper, except 
 the head ; he then returned to the coffee-house, and finding the Jew there, 
 secretly slipt the rat into his pocket. He afterwards advanced in front of 
 the poor Jew, and saluted him. The Jew immediately began his invec- 
 tives : the ventriloquist coolly defended himself, and said at last, " Why 
 
JOURNEY TO ROME. 
 
 317 
 
 you had a rat about you, and 111 lay you a wager that you have one now." 
 The Jew flew into a furious passion, and offered to bet twenty-five louis. 
 " No," says the ventriloquist, " I will not lay twenty-five louis, but I will 
 bet you two." The bet was accepted, and the money produced, and 
 given to a bystander ; when the ventriloquist began to imitate the squeak- 
 ing of a rat from the pocket. " Ah ! it is you, you cursed venlriloque ; I 
 saw you." " Well, but only just empty your pocket and see if it be not 
 there." The Jew put his hand in, in order to do so, and then began dan- 
 cing about the room. " Oh ! oh ! this is no ventrilo, this is no ventrilo.'' 
 Our companion however restored him the money, being contented with 
 the laugh he had raised against him. All this he told admirably, imitating 
 the Jew's passion, and his bad French. From this place the two carriages 
 accompanied each other as far as Viterbo, stopping at the same places ; and 
 our ventriloquist amused himself and us, by pretending to catch chickens, 
 and to hide them under his coat ; frightening the maid-servants with his 
 imaginary mice, making people appear to come down the chimney, or ad- 
 vance with threatening language to the door, and then burst it open. 
 
 We left Buon Convento at half past four, and passed through a dreary 
 country, like the worst of that of the preceding day, to Radicofani. The 
 village stands on the summit, and the posthouse at the foot of a mass of 
 volcanic tufo, which crowns a lofty hill of Siena clay. This group of 
 mountains is entirely detached from the Apennines, and rises like an 
 island between the Arno, the Tiber, and the sea. A rapid descent, still 
 on the same barren clay, brought us to Torricelli, a miserable place, 
 where we had a bad supper, bad attendance, and bad beds. At half past 
 four, on the 29th, we set out again, and reached Acquapendente in the 
 dark. Here our passports were examined, and the luggage boUata, that 
 is, it had seals of lead put upon it, to secure us from any interference of 
 other custom-houses till our arrival at Rome. Papers were brought for 
 us to sign. I read mine, which seemed to be considered rather an unusual 
 degree of curiosity, and found that it contained the substance of my pass- 
 port, with a statement, that having been asked whether I should stay at 
 Acquapendente, I had replied in the negative, but professed my intention 
 to stay a month at Rome : what was the object of this form I have not 
 been able to learn. These things detained us above an hour, and it began 
 to dawn as we left the town. The soil of the elevated plain on which we 
 were travelling is a volcanic tufo, but the clay still forms all the low parts. 
 
318 
 
 BOLSENA. 
 
 and may be traced even to Rome. The country is pleasant, the ground 
 gradually rising for some miles till we reach the brow of the hill, above the 
 Lake of Bolsena, a noble expanse of water thirty miles in circumference, 
 bounded everywhere by woody hills, here and there mingled with rocks. 
 The scenery on the descent is exquisitely beautiful, the road passing 
 among fine trees ; and the ruined town of San Lorenzo seated on a low 
 rocky point, but abandoned on account of the mal aria, formed a most 
 picturesque object. A little farther, the town and castle of Bolsena were 
 hardly inferior. The character of the scenery was that of the highest 
 beauty, with enough of the rugged and picturesque to keep off any idea 
 of the insipidity, which according to Uvedale Price, belongs to the beau- 
 tiful. I believe all the lakes in this part of Italy are unwholesome ; they 
 are pools of still water, in a rich soil, and warm climate, and the abundant 
 vegetation, and its consequent rapid decay, are the sources of the evil. 
 Some of them are of a noble size, but in summer they have hardly any 
 change of water, and the Italian atmosphere is not sufficiently exercised 
 by winds to purify them. 
 
 Bolsena is the ancient Volsinium ; and there are said to be traces of 
 the Etruscan city on the slope of the hill above, but we did not visit 
 them ; and there are lloman arches, and abundance of architectural frag- 
 ments, nearer the lake ; from the description of an amphitheatre, and 
 various fragments of brickwork, I suspect that the remains on the hill, 
 are, in part at least, also of Roman times. Just out of the town is a 
 church, more celebrated for being the scene of the famous miracle of the 
 bloody wafer, in 1263, than for the beauty of its architecture. It is a 
 triple church, and a gloomy vault, which forms a sort of chapel to one of 
 them, is pointed out as the scene of the miracle. One of the buildings 
 has a facade of the cinque cento, with some very beautiful ornaments, 
 but it has been sadly abused. In the court in front is a portion of a 
 large granite basin, and other fragments of antiquity. 
 
 The road from Bolsena runs along the shores of the lake, and in one 
 place passes by some basaltic columns on the steep slope of the hill which 
 descends to it. On leaving the lake, we again mount a high, steep, woody* 
 
 * These fine woods have been since burnt down, to do honour, as I was informed, to the 
 Emperor of Austria, on his visit to Rome in 1819. My informant, (who was then my fellow 
 traveller) was a man of sense and of a cultivated mind, yet he could not enter into my feelings, 
 in preferring a noble wood to the blackened stumps. 
 
ORVIETO. 
 
 319 
 
 hill, with beautiful views behind us, over the expanse of water. The 
 road passes on the outside of Monte Fiascone, which stands on a summit 
 commanding the whole country. The cathedral is said to be an early 
 work of Sanmicheli. The front is unfinished, and the parts are not very 
 beautiful, yet it has an air of magnificence, inside and .out. An old castle 
 occupies the apex of the hill ; and this, and the church and town, combine 
 together into a fine object. A little out of the city is a curious old church, 
 which contains the well known inscription : 
 
 EST, EST, EST, PROPTER NIMIUM 
 EST, HIC lO. DE YC. D. 
 MEUS MORTUUS EST. 
 
 The stone makes part of the pavement at the foot of the altar, is much 
 broken at the edges, and seems hardly to be in its place. The church is 
 in two heights, the intermediate floor having a large opening in the 
 middle. It is partly of an ornamental pointed architecture, and partly of 
 what we might call Saxon or Norman, of which style we also find a little 
 church within the town. There is a road from Bolsena to Orvieto, but it 
 is very bad ; part of it is on an old Roman way, formed of large blocks of 
 lava, many of which have been displaced. From Monte Fiascone the road 
 is good, and towards Orvieto, beautiful. This city stands upon an insu- 
 lated hill, or rather on a perpendicular rock of tufo, resting on a consider- 
 able hill of the Siena clay. The hills towards Bolsena are formed in the 
 same manner, and where the tufo is of small extent, it offers very striking 
 features. The approaches to Orvieto seem entirely artificial ; and the 
 only entrance for carriages is of recent construction. The city abounds in 
 large palaces, which announce its former prosperity, but our first object is 
 of course the cathedral. This was founded in 1290, in memory of the 
 miracle at Bolsena, and dedicated to Santa Maria Annunziata. The first 
 stone was laid by Pope Nicolas IV., and the first mass was celebrated in 
 1297, so that part at least seems to have been run up very quickly. The 
 following inscription is on the outside : 
 
 « EDAT LAPIS HIC NOMEN PENE OBLITERATUM LAURENTIUS 
 
 MAYTANI SENENSIS PRIMUS MIRIFICI HUJUS OPERIS 
 MAGISTER, POST DIUTINOS IN EODEM IMPENSOS LABORES, 
 AB URBE VATANA REPUBLICA PREMIIS ABUNDE CUMU- 
 LATUS, OBIIT ANNO 1330. 
 
320 
 
 ORVIETO. 
 
 We had letters to a Signor Palazzi, who seemed to have all the dates 
 of every thing in Orvieto at his command. This gentleman assured us, 
 that the whole body of the edifice, including the front, was the work 
 of one man ; and moreover that there were entries in the church books, of 
 certain sums of money paid to Laurentius Maytani for drawings on 
 parchment of the facade. He had found in an old lumber-room, among 
 other things belonging to the church, two drawings on parchment, one 
 very nearly resembling the present front, and the other somewhat more 
 different. They are worm-eaten, and otherwise damaged, and the draw- 
 ing partly obliterated, and he concludes these to be the very drawings 
 mentioned and paid for. The evidence seems pretty strong, yet it is 
 not quite decisive, and the styles of the front and sides are so different, 
 that I can hardly believe them to be the designs of the sam.e person. 
 The work not only does not unite, but the heights do not correspond. 
 The front is highly ornamented and very rich, but hardly pleased me as 
 well as I expected. Some large faces at the bottom of the piers, which 
 are enriched with sculpture, must be condemned, because they interrupt 
 the apparent construction. Perhaps it was to obviate such an objection, 
 that they are not plane surfaces, but form a sort of sculptured tapestry, in- 
 dicating in some degree the form of the piers below. This contrivance 
 injures the effect of the sculpture, without doing any thing for the build- 
 ing, but I will not enumerate all the little faults. In the middle is a great 
 square with numerous figures, and in the centre of this is a large rose-win- 
 dow, which is beautiful both on the outside, and on the inside. This dis- 
 position forms at once the finest and most peculiar feature in the design. 
 There are two windows over the side-doors, which are filled with slabs of 
 alabaster, and there are others partially filled in the same way. Externally, 
 this has very much the appearance of a blank, but internally the effect is 
 good, where the slabs fill the divisions of the architecture ; but where they 
 are composed of small pieces, whose colours and veinings do not corre- 
 spond, it is bad. The sculpture is in general very good, and some of the 
 figures are even beautiful. There is a row of leaves on one of the 
 mouldings surrounding each doorway, which is executed at once with 
 freedom and delicacy ; while a similar decoration to one of the side-doors, 
 has all the hardness and dryness you would expect in the thirteenth cen- 
 tury. The stone chiefly employed is a yellowish marble, with veins of a 
 colour somewhat deeper : a beautiful material. A reddish brown lime- 
 
ORVIETO. 
 
 321 
 
 stone, or marble, is also employed, and there is a small quantity of very 
 dark serpentine. The whole effect of colour is very beautiful. There 
 are mosaic ornaments and pictures of the same material. The latter do 
 not harmonize very well, and perhaps do not belong to the original design. 
 The body of the church is striped with alternate courses of a whitish 
 limestone, and dark gray lava. A semicircular rib goes up each pier, but 
 there are no buttresses exposed ; the lower windows do not correspond 
 in position with those of the clerestory, and are more ornamented ; they 
 have a mullion which the others have not. The mass of the building in- 
 side retains its original form, but the details of the side-aisles have been 
 sadly modernized. The length of the transept is only equal to the width 
 of the nave and aisles. This and the choir are vaulted, but there is no 
 preparation for vaulting the nave or side aisles. There are two magnifi- 
 cent marble monuments at the altars opposite the aisles, where many of 
 the architectural enrichments are beautifully designed and exquisitely 
 executed. If they have a fault it is, that the precision and fineness of the 
 edge gives them something of a metallic appearance. At each end of the 
 transept is a small chapel. That on the left, called the Chapel of the Sa- 
 crament, is said to have been added about 1350. The other, dedicated to 
 the Madonna, in 1500. On comparing them, we find that the first has 
 some marks of a higher antiquity than the other, but the two openings 
 from the church are exactly alike, and I must confess, if I had not been 
 told the contrary, I should have considered both as nearly coeval with the 
 body of the building, except in a few mouldings, which might have been 
 added or altered afterwards. Besides the drawings attributed to Lorenzo 
 Maytani, Sr. Palazzi shewed us others, also on parchment, exhibiting 
 projects of alterations by Ippolito Scalzi. I at first suspected that 
 they were all by this artist, but a more careful consideration convinced 
 me of the contrary. Scalzi's have no feeling of the character and expres- 
 sion of Gothic architecture. We were shown also the ancient robes, the 
 pianeti and the londinella, embroidered about the year 1200, and orna- 
 mented with figures which have considerable merit. 
 
 Adjoining to the cathedral is the ancient palace of the bishop. The 
 great hall seems to have been a fine Gothic edifice, but is now a store- 
 house, and we could not persuade the owner to admit us. Another part 
 has pointed windows divided by mullions, and with an immense width of 
 ornament in brickwork surrounding them. This was erected in 1417. 
 
322 VITERBO. 
 
 Similar windows abound in Orvieto, except that the arch is generally 
 semicircular. 
 
 There have been several other Gothic churches in Orvieto, but they have 
 been modernized, and present nothing remarkable. The church of San Mi- 
 chele must have been an elegant little Saxon edifice in its original form, 
 but it is cut to pieces in all directions. Under the church of San Domenico is 
 a sepulchral chamber, by the architect Sanmicheli. Its form is octago- 
 nal, with a double square appended to one side; the effect is pleasing. 
 A little out of the town is the church of San Lorenzo, erected by the 
 same architect. This is also octagonal, and put me in mind of that at 
 Fiascone, but it is a much superior performance. The outside has a face 
 of four pilasters, with a pediment over the two central ones. The middle 
 space is about double that of the sides, and the arch occupying it seems 
 to give a reason for the difference. The ornamental facade appears to be 
 inscribed in a square, and the proportion is pleasing, but there is a high, 
 plain, stuccoed octagon above, which injures the effect. The inside also 
 is very good. The order is Corinthian, but with a cornice so plain that 
 it might almost be called Tuscan ; yet it is by no means offensive. 
 
 We of course visited the famous Pozzo of San Gallo, which was dug 
 in order to supply Orvieto with water during a siege. It consists of a 
 well of brickwork, surrounded by two spiral, inclined planes, one of which 
 you may go down, and ascend by the other. In the outer cylinder, the 
 upper part is cut through the volcanic tufo which supports itself ; but 
 the lower part being in the clay, is executed in brickwork, so that in the 
 same well, you have bricks below, and the native rock above. This well 
 is now useless, as the inhabitants prefer going out of the town for their 
 good water, San Gallo built the Palazzo Soliana in this city, which is a 
 very elegant structure ; it is now a convent. Most of the palaces of Or- 
 vieto were designed by Ippolito Scalzi, and if there is nothing very 
 striking in the architecture, they may be praised for just proportions and 
 a pleasing distribution of the parts. Some of them are very large. The 
 Pakzzo Gualtieri contains some very admirable large chalk drawings, 
 and the owner was polite enough to show us a small collection of gems of 
 first-rate excellence. 
 
 From Monte Fiascone, a long descent brought us into the naked plain 
 of Viterbo. Before arriving at the town, we pass the Bollicame, a pool, 
 whence some sort of gas escapes in such quantity as to give the water the 
 
CAPRARUOLA. 
 
 32.'} 
 
 appearance of boiling with great violence in several places. In shallow 
 parts near the edges, the water was hardly tepid; but approaching as 
 nearly as I could to those places were the agitation was considerable, I 
 found it as warm as my hand could well bear. It has but little smell. 
 
 Viterbo is a curious looking city, with abundance of caverns in the per- 
 pendicular faces of the rocks, bordering a little valley which passes through 
 it. The Duomo has a range of columns on each side, with grotesque ca- 
 pitals, supporting semicircular arches. These, and perhaps parts of the 
 choir, are ancient ; the rest is modernized without any accordance with 
 the style of the original. The Trinity is a handsome modern church. Its 
 form is that of a Latin cross, with a dome in the centre. That of San 
 Francesco is a large building. The transept has pointed vaulting, and there 
 are two fine archways of the pointed style leading into chapels, and some 
 Gothic tombs. It boasts also a Pieta painted by Sebastian del Piombo, 
 from designs by Michael Angelo. The friars would sell it, if they could 
 obtain permission and a purchaser. 
 
 We resumed our journey at half past six the next morning, and wound 
 up the hill of Monte Cimino, which rises above the city ; here we are still 
 on volcanic ground, which I believe continues all the way to Rome, with 
 perhaps some partial exceptions. A thick fog concealed the route we had 
 passed, and it was only for a minute that we were able to distinguish the 
 rocky point at Radicofani. To the left were the chain of the Apennines, 
 whose summits were white with snow, and nearer to us, a little south of 
 east, the detached mountain of Soracte. The Lake of Vico formed a 
 beautiful object, irregular in its form, with steep woody hills on one side, 
 and a country nearly, flat on the other. We thought we saw a stretch of 
 the Tiber, and were told that had the air been clear we might have seen 
 Rome. To the west was the Mediterranean ; my first view of the sea so 
 long the centre of the civilized world, was hazy, and indistinct, so that I 
 beheld doubtingly, and did not feel the pleasure of a sudden and perfect 
 vision. Before the descent to Ronciglione, a small road conducts the 
 traveller to Capraruola, where he finds a great palace of the Farnese 
 family, considered as one of the finest productions of Vignola. The form 
 is pentagonal, but I do not perceive that any thing is gained by this pe- 
 culiarity. The situation is on the slope of a hill, with the village, con- 
 sisting of one long, straight, descending street, opposite to the entrance. 
 The woods are rich and the view very fine, but for the site of a building 
 
 2 T 2 
 
324 
 
 SUTRI. 
 
 there are positions lower down which would be much superior. The 
 building is magnificent by the size and simplicity of the mass, which is 
 however, perhaps, rather too high in proportion to its extent. The base- 
 ment and Ionic order above it are finely proportioned, but there are many 
 things to be blamed in the whole composition. The little bastions which 
 the architect has introduced at the angles are trifling, and quite insuffi- 
 cient to give the appearance of a fortress ; and it would be bad if they did. 
 The internal circular court is fine, but it is rather the general form which 
 pleases than any peculiar merit in the management. Some of the apart- 
 ments are noble, but on the whole I was rather dissatisfied, both with the 
 inside and the out. I had been told that some of the original drawings of 
 Vignola were in the hands of a peasant in this neighbourhood, but 1 in- 
 quired for them in vain. We visited the church of the Teresiane to ad- 
 mire a painting of Guido. The architect of that building has made each 
 side of the nave a distinct composition, by which he has entirely destroyed 
 the unity of the whole. This preservation of unity is at least as impor- 
 tant in architecture as in the other fine arts, but it has been sadly trans- 
 gressed. The road wound down to Ronciglione, where we stopt to dine, 
 or breakfast, call it which you please. This is a town seated on the edge 
 of a rocky chasm, and on a point of rock which divides this chasm into 
 two branches. I cannot think of a better object of comparison than 
 Shanklin Chine ; you must conceive it four times as wide, and the cliffs 
 twice as high, fringe them with ilex and other shrubs, and put some large 
 trees in the hollow. Here I apprehend we entered upon the Campagna di 
 Roma, " A dreary waste, expanding to the skies ;" not entirely unculti- 
 vated, or uninhabited, but neither the one nor the other is at all in pro-: 
 portion to the extent ; it is not flat, but varied by hills and vallies ; or 
 rather it is an inclined plane, intersected by vallies, sometimes as much as 
 one hundred and fifty feet in depth, with steep, broken, and often rocky 
 banks, more or less covered with brushwood, and a few trees scattered 
 here and there. 
 
 The ancient city of Sutri, built by the Pelasgi, if we may trust to an 
 inscription over the gate, stands on the edge of this plain, at some dis- 
 tance from the high road. The cross road which conducts to it is bad, 
 but is passable by a carriage : a paved road from Monte Rosi has been 
 suffered to decay. The first object which strikes the traveller is a per- 
 pendicular face of rock, full of niches and ancient tombs, on the left of 
 
SUTRI. 
 
 325 
 
 the road. We discover traces of columns cut in the rock, and pediments 
 are frequent. Sometimes the form of an arch is counterfeited. Several 
 recesses remain, which were probably occupied by tablets with inscrip- 
 tions, but the tablets themselves are all gone. A narrow valley divides 
 these monuments from an insulated hill or rock, whose perpendicular 
 sides are perhaps as full of tombs, and niches, as the preceding ; but they 
 are in great measure obscured by shrubs and ivy. The principal object 
 in this mass is an amphitheatre cut in the tufo. It is not perfectly regu- 
 lar, for there are two precinctions in some parts, and in others only one ; 
 and there are also, in parts where the hill is most elevated, indications of 
 columns on the surface of the rock, which here rises considerably above 
 the highest step. Not content with thus cutting the steps in the sub- 
 stance of the hill, the authors have made a subterraneous corridor and 
 vomitories. In a few places we find a little brickwork, to supply defi- 
 ciencies in the natural mass, and there probably has been more, yet except 
 the wearing away of the steps, the whole construction is nearly perfect. 
 
 In another part of this hill is a little subterranean church, consisting 
 of a nave and side aisles. The vestibule is an ancient tomb, and a 
 tradition, or invention, of ancient martyrs here imprisoned, has given a 
 motive to the formation of the church. Sutri itself is seated on a long 
 rocky point, and here and there a fragment of the ancient wall remains. 
 The town stands on a perpendicular rock for nearly the whole circuit, 
 and chambers, or ornaments, have been cut into it ; but not to the same 
 degree as in the eminences before mentioned. In one place we observed 
 the representation of a sort of grating. We met with nothing worthy of 
 particular notice in the town itself, but beyond it, there has been a mag- 
 nificent bridge, erected in the eighteenth century, which united the town 
 with the adjoining hills. This was ruined by the French, (in 1798, I be- 
 lieve) who also destroyed great part of the town ; as was likewise the case 
 at Ronciglione. We had only allotted a few hours to Sutri, but the cut- 
 tings in the rock are so numerous and so extensive, that this place would 
 offer plenty of employment for a day, independent of drawing and mea- 
 suring. Sutri was an Etruscan city, and though I will not vouch to you 
 that all these monuments are prior to the dominion of the Romans, yet I 
 think it probable that some of them are of a very early date, and they carry 
 back the imagination to a period beyond authentic history, and excite those 
 vague dreams of ancient civilization and splendour in which it is so de- 
 
326 
 
 JOURNEY TO ROME. 
 
 lightful to indulge. The situation is very pleasant, the vegetation rich 
 and luxuriant, and the scenery striking and picturesque. We observed 
 no antiquity at Monte Rosi, except some parts of the pavement of a Ro- 
 man road, but proceeded to Baccano, where we stopped for the night. It 
 is an almost solitary inn, in the midst of a naked, little, round valley, which 
 perhaps like so many others in this part of the world, has once been the 
 crater of a volcano. After supper, at about nine o'clock, the waiter came 
 in to tell us that it was not just to sit up so late, and consume his master's 
 wood and candles. Next morning (the 31st) we again started at half past 
 six, and saw Rome, or at least the dome of St. Peter's, from the summit 
 of the first hill. The country became even more desolate, yet there is no 
 dead flat ; the soil does not seem bad, and the parts which are cultivated, 
 and still more the entire cultivation of the same sort of land in and about 
 Rome, announce that we must not seek in natural causes alone for this 
 desolation. About four miles from Rome the country improves again, 
 and we have some fine views in approaching the city, with a foreground 
 of rugged cork trees, and bushes of ilex ; broken ground and woody hol- 
 lows ; but so many reflections rush into the mind on entering Rome, that 
 one has hardly time to consider whether it is beautiful or not. We entered 
 at the Porta del Popolo, at about eleven o'clock in the morning, and had to 
 go through the accustomed ceremonies at the custom-house ; but having 
 brought you to Rome I will now conclude my letter. 
 
327 
 
 LETTER XXIII. 
 
 ROMAN ANTIQUITIES. 
 
 Rome, January, 1817. 
 
 I ARRIVED at Rome, as I have already said, on the last day of the year, 
 1816, after a morning of continued eager expectation. In spite of all 
 that may have heen seen elsewhere of magnificent buildings, and of all 
 the views and drawings which have been published of the eternal city, 
 Rome is still a new world to an architect. You may know in detail 
 the appearance of every building here, but you can feel nothing, you can 
 imagine nothing, of the effect produced, on seeing, on finding yourself 
 thus amongst them. To walk over the ancient Forum, and with a mind 
 already raised by the indistinct and crowded associations of all the great 
 and wonderful events which have originated on this spot, and of the great 
 men who have ennobled it ; to contemplate on one side tlie Capitol, 
 with its temples and triumphal arches, testimonials of former splendour ; 
 and on the other the Curia hostilia, the temple of Jupiter Stator, and 
 the arched terraces which once supported the proud palace of the 
 Caesars, is an intellectual treat, to be enjoyed, to be imagined, nowhere 
 but at Rome. A vague feeling of admiration mixes itself with every 
 perception, and every recollection ; and the mind forcibly rejects all 
 inharmonious ideas. It is not any one thing that you see, any more 
 than one point of history that you have to remember ; multitudes of 
 fragments are included in one view, not very perfect and distinct in their 
 forms, yet sufficient to excite the imagination. They crowd on the eye, 
 as the scenes of history on the memory. The strong emotion and the 
 high tone of feeling excited, leave no power of criticising. There seems 
 to be a magic in the mere names. Proceeding in your walk in the 
 direction of the Via Sacra, you leave on the left, the temple of Antoninus 
 and Faustina, that of Romulus and Remus, and other fragments without 
 a name. Afterwards, also on the left, is the temple of Peace, and you 
 pass through the arch of Titus, both monuments of the destruction of 
 Jerusalem : beyond are the temples of Venus and Rome, and at the 
 distance of a few steps, the vast extent of the Coliseum. Nor have you 
 
328 
 
 GENERAL IMPRESSIONS. 
 
 to hunt out these objects with difficulty one after the other ; they burst 
 upon the eye almost at one view, and demand, or rather extort, your 
 attention ; and that view is usually almost the first upon which a stranger 
 fixes his mind. Whether this building was a temple, or that a curia, may 
 be questioned ; but you cannot doubt for a moment, that each is a Roman 
 work ; and the ruin of some magnificent edifice. Afterwards you may 
 ascend the Palatine, and pace over the extensive remains of the palace 
 of the Caesars. The long vaults, where a partial destruction admits a 
 gleam of daylight to their deep recesses ; the terraces, which seem to bid 
 defiance to time ; the half domes, and solid piers, attesting the grandeur 
 of their ancient construction ; the walls fringed with shrubs, principally 
 evergreen ; the very intricacy of the plan, and the mixture of kitchen 
 gardens and vineyards, where once the voice of harmony resounded 
 through lofty halls decorated with the finest productions of art ; all im- 
 press the mind with the recollection of past glory. But the feeling here 
 is very different from that excited in the Forum. There, the recollection 
 of the lofty virtues of these magnanimous republicans, exalts every feeling 
 into admiration ; here, the shapeless masses of ruin, half concealed by 
 vegetation, accord better with the melancholy felt in contemplating the 
 decay of Rome, and the wasteful and destructive luxury which followed, 
 or accompanied the erection of these palaces. But the views from the 
 Palatine are no less striking than those within its walls. Below is the 
 temple of Romulus ; farther on to the left, that of Vesta ; between these 
 is the arch of Janus ; the temple of Castor and Pollux was in the 
 immediate neighbourhood ; and in another place that of Apollo. All 
 these names, and almost every inch of ground is disputed by the Roman 
 antiquaries ; but about such dissensions the imagination does not trouble 
 herself The form of the ground is still seen in the Circus maximus, 
 but the buildings are gone. The Aventine rises above all the other 
 objects, crowned with convents and churches, composed of the spoils 
 of the temples which once adorned it. To the left of the Aventine is an 
 enormous mass of building, which once contained the baths of Caracalla. 
 The lower story is supposed to be filled up ; the upper is uncovered, 
 but the vast piers, and solid piles of masonry, which are sufiicient to 
 explain very intelligibly the whole plan of the central building, impress 
 forcibly the imagination. Nearer, but still more to the left, are the arch 
 of Constantine, and the Coliseum; of which you here trace the form, 
 
GENERAL IMPRESSIONS. 
 
 329 
 
 and see the whole extent. Beyond are numerous fragments of great 
 buildings, one knows not of what. Turning again to the north, and 
 retracing the Via Sacra, by which you came to the Palatine ; you fix 
 your eye on the bold elevation of the Capitol, and figure to yourself 
 what it must have appeared, unincumbered with the rubbish of modern 
 buildings, when all its temples were entire, each surrounded by stately 
 colonnades, and the whole crowned with the splendid fane of Jupiter 
 CapitolinuS. There were probably many inconsiderable temples in Rome, 
 but here was a collection of fine ones ; many might have been in bad 
 taste, but individual defects were lost in the splendour of the whole 
 display. Besides, the simple form of the ancient temple precluded such 
 extravagances as are found in modern architecture ; and the form of the 
 ground gave to such a collection its full effect. This is the case not only 
 on the Capitol, but in the other parts of Rome ; and nothing has asto- 
 nished me more, than the numerous fine points of view which the ancient 
 city must have afforded. The hills were insignificant in themselves, but 
 they seem made to display the buildings to the greatest advantage ; and 
 one grand object rising behind another, and varying in combination at every 
 new point of view, must have exhibited a scene of splendour and magni- 
 ficence, unparalleled not only in fact, but in the descriptions of the most 
 luxuriant fancy. The hills and country about Rome are well disposed 
 for architecture, and for uniting its objects with those of the landscape. 
 They are not high, and therefore the dreary waste of the Campagna is 
 not obtrusive ; while the broken foreground is richly adorned with ever- 
 green and deciduous trees, and especially with the picturesque stone pine. 
 The flowing line of Monte Albano, and the bolder and more irregular 
 forms of the Apennines, unite to form an inexhaustible fund of variety 
 and interest. 
 
 But all this is too vague and general to give you any distinct ideas, 
 and I must endeavour, by a greater degree of precision, to carry you with 
 me through this immense museum. 
 
 The Guide-books profess to conduct you regularly and systematically 
 through Rome in eight days; and some of our countrymen boast that 
 they have beaten the antiquaries, and done it in six. For my part, the 
 first eight days I spent in Rome were all hurry and confusion. I could 
 attend to nothing systematically, nor even examine any thing with accu- 
 racy ; a sort of restless eagerness to see every thing, and know something 
 
 2 u 
 
330 ARRANGEMENT OF OBSERVATIONS. 
 
 about every thing, gave me no power of fixing my attention on any one 
 particular, I have just given you a sketch of the chaos of objects which 
 occupied my mind, but before I descend to individuals, let me tell you, 
 what indeed is of more importance to me than to you, that I have taken 
 a pleasant lodging of two good sized rooms, for which I am to pay nine 
 scudi a month, on the Trinity de' Monti. On my first arrival I lodged at 
 Franz's, a large inn kept by a German of that name, at the upper end of 
 the Via de' Condotti, almost close to the Piazza di Spagna. From this 
 Piazza a most magnificent flight of a hundred and twenty-two steps, leads 
 you to the church of Trinitti de' Monti. I had heard of the steps up to 
 the Capitol, but never of these, which by the bye are much more showy, 
 and I did not doubt on my arrival that I was at the foot of the ancient Ca- 
 pitol. All these steps I have to ascend to my lodging, and about sixty 
 more within the house ; but to reward my labours, when I am at home, I 
 command a fine prospect over the greatest part of Rome, and perhaps the 
 very best distant view of the Vatican. Mr. Sharp, my old companion in 
 the south of France, assisted me in my search for lodgings ; he had 
 changed his, and I had no small difficulty to find him out. In this inquiry 
 I received however, the clearest directions possible, though to streets 
 which appear to have no existence. I am persuaded, that if you were to 
 Italianize the name of a London street, and ask for f^ia Peccadilla, you 
 would receive a very distinct and particular direction. 
 
 I have at length gained some degree of composure, and have examined 
 a few things more at leisure, but still without any order. That of place 
 seems to have no interest ; that of antiquity, is too abstruse and difficult. 
 I cannot therefore, pretend to give you any regular and connected view 
 of Rome ; nor can I take you with me from day to day, as I often run 
 from one thing to another, and return again repeatedly to the principal 
 objects. I shall therefore pursue a plan which may have regularity enough 
 to unite the principal objects into groups, whose individuals may reflect 
 some light upon each other ; without attempting any more general ar- 
 rangement : and leave something both of the composition of the groups, 
 and of the order in which I speak of them, to that in which I have seen 
 them. 
 
 There are so many objects of high interest in Rome, that a stranger 
 hardly knows to which first to turn himself ; but no one will long post- 
 pone a visit to the Forum, now called the Campo Vaccino, ^. e. the Cattle 
 
JUPITER TONANS. 
 
 331 
 
 Field ; not the market, but the place where the long horned oxen, which 
 have drawn the carts of the country people to Rome, wait till their mas- 
 ters are ready to go back again. This piece of ground does not precisely 
 correspond with that of the old Forum Romanum, but it contains nearly 
 the whole of it, and might without any impropriety be called by the same 
 name. To reach this I crossed the Capitoline hill, whose modern build- 
 ings I shall leave for a future opportunity, and passing under the porticos 
 of Michael Angelo, came out above the Temple of Concord. On the left 
 are the foundations, and great fragments of the ancient buildings of the 
 Capitol. The latter are principally seen within the prisons, at the back of 
 the present senate-house ; the former consist of great blocks of peperino, 
 and seem to form the face of the hill. Above this was anciently the Tabu- 
 larium, or record-office, the front of which consisted of a range of piers 
 and arches, with a sort of Doric pilaster, and a capital more singular than 
 beautiful. The material, and the style of the work, seem to announce its 
 erection during the time of the republic ; but the place having been used 
 as a salt magazine under Nicolas the Fifth, about the middle of the 
 fifteenth century, this substance is said to have destroyed the piers, and 
 rendered it necessary to take them down, and replace them by the conti- 
 nued wall, which now exists ; some capitals, and nearly the whole line of 
 the architrave, are all that remain ; above these nothing is exhibited ex- 
 ternally of the ancient edifice. Within are masses of masonry, and por- 
 tions of vaults mixed with the modern constructions. 
 
 Just at the foot of the hill is the Temple of Jupiter Tonans, three co- 
 lumns of which only remain. Formerly, this was buried by the rubbish 
 forming the slope of the hill, to two thirds of the height of the columns, 
 the pavement of this temple having been about 36 feet below that of the 
 tabularium. The French have cleared away the ground, and various 
 buildings, and in this operation have exposed the above described basement 
 of the Capitol, of which only a very small fragment could previously have 
 been visible. The French conferred, says my friend Mr. Sharp, a great 
 many benefits on the Italians, but the greatest of all was in going away. 
 An antiquary might be disposed to wish, that this had been deferred two 
 or three years more, as far at least as relates to Rome. The excavations 
 are not however, entirely discontinued, but they are not carried on with 
 the same spirit as formerly. Palladio has made of this building a magni- 
 ficent octastyle, dipteral temple, with nine columns on the sides, and with 
 
 2 u 2 
 
332 
 
 TEMPLE OF CONCORD. 
 
 the side intercolumniations equal to those of the front. One is inclined 
 to hope at least, that these early Italian architects had better grounds to 
 go upon for their restorations than the imperfect fragments which remain 
 to the present day ; but here unfortunately his testimony is contradicted 
 by the existing remains, for there is not space for his building between 
 the remaining portion of the front, and the foundations of the Capitol. 
 Uggeri, with more probability, and assisted by an ancient medal, has re- 
 stored it as a hexastyle, peripteral temple, with smaller intercolumniations 
 on the sides than in the front, as is the fact, with respect to the two co- 
 lumns of the flank, which are still erect. These columns afford a curious 
 testimony of the luxury of magnificence, if I may use the expression, of 
 the Roman architecture : the spaces between the dentils are very deeply 
 cut upwards and backwards, to produce, I suppose, a depth of shade ; 
 the ovoli are laid on leaves, and hollowed out behind, so as to touch only 
 at two points ; and on the face of these ovoli, there is a minute carving of 
 flowers. The frieze is ornamented with the insignia of sacrifice, and the 
 •patera, the vase, and the helmet, of the high priest, are all ornamented 
 with minute carving, which is undistinguishable from below. That on 
 the helmet of the priest represents a winged thunderbolt, and serves to 
 identify the temple. In the front, the architrave and frieze are united in 
 one large tablet, to receive the inscription ; but this was probably an al- 
 teration on occasion of some repairs. An ancient ascent to the Capitol, 
 the pavement of which is now exposed, passed close by this temple, but 
 several feet below its pavement, and did not leave room for a regular 
 flight of steps in the front ; some steps therefore are put in between the 
 columns of the portico, and the others ascended laterally on the side of the 
 building, ending in a platform extending along the front, at th^o foot of the 
 first mentioned steps. There are some remains of the construction which 
 supported these steps, and of the basement mouldings, yet their arrange- 
 ment is not perfectly clear. 
 
 Almost as near to the eye as the temple of Jupiter Tonans, stands 
 that which used to have the name of Concord, but which now is rather 
 attributed to Fortune. That it was not the temple of Concord, is how- 
 ever much more certain than what it was. The inscription Senatus po- 
 pulusque liomumis incendio consurnptum restituit, has been thought to in- 
 dicate a republican sera, since there is no mention of any emperor ; but 
 the architecture contradicts any such idea, and the present remains are 
 
MAMERTINE PRISONS. 
 
 333 
 
 now, with more probability, assigned to the fourth century. They con- 
 sist of eight granite columns on an elevated basement, which is nearly hid 
 by the accumulation of rubbish. One of these columns appears to be in- 
 verted ; the other materials are very various, and among them are frag- 
 ments of some edifice of a better period, and some very rude attempts at 
 imitating them. Even these imitations seem not necessary to the edifice, 
 and perhaps are fragments themselves, not much preceding the destruc- 
 tion of the temple by fire. The capitals are singular ; they have been 
 called Ionic, but that epithet can hardly be applied to them with justice. 
 Some of them have belonged to a prior building, and are pretty well 
 executed ; others are ill-made imitations to complete the number wanted. 
 
 At a very little distance is the Arch of Septimius Severus, famous 
 among other things for the erasure of the name of Geta, which is traced 
 in the inscription. These triumphal arches are not in a very pure style 
 of architecture, but they are rich and handsome objects ; four projecting 
 columns adorn each face, and the entablature breaks round each of them. 
 Above these columns are supposed to have been statues, and in the arch 
 of Constantine such still exist, but here they must have had a singular 
 effect, as the tablet and inscription extend the whole length of the build- 
 ing, and the statues would have interrupted, and in part even concealed 
 it. The top is supposed to have been surmounted by a triumphal car. 
 The shafts of these columns are of cipollino, and in some of them large 
 pieces of the marble have scaled off, and they have been repaired with brick, 
 which has given occasion to some of my countrymen to discover that the 
 marble columns of Rome were merely brick, coated with marble ; the 
 whole face of the work between the columns is covered with bas-reliefs, 
 now much decayed, and probably always very bad, both in design and 
 execution, yet contributing to the magnificence of the edifice. 
 
 At a very little distance from this arch, but not coming into any gene- 
 ral view, are the Mamertine prisons, supposed to have been built origi- 
 nally by Ancus Martius, but an inscription assigns the present edifice to 
 C. Vibius Rufus, and M. Cocceius Nerva, in the year of Rome 775. 
 They consist of two dungeons, one below the other, in the lowest of 
 which is a small spring, said to have arisen miraculously at the command 
 of St. Peter, in order to baptize the keepers. Saints Processus and Marti- 
 nianus, whom he had converted. These dungeons are covered with a 
 vault, which as well as the walls, is of peperino, and if the tradition which 
 
334 
 
 TEMPLE OF ANTONINUS. 
 
 assigns their erection to Ancus Martius be very uncertain, the style and 
 materials of the work announce the early origin at least of all the lower 
 part. 
 
 On the other side of the arch of Septimius, is the column dedicated to 
 the emperor Phocas, as has been recently determined from an inscription 
 exposed by the excavations made there, at the expense of the Duchess of 
 Devonshire. The column itself has been taken from some more ancient 
 building, and is placed on a pedestal, with steps up to it on all sides. 
 Fragments of two other honorary columns, and the pedestals supporting 
 them, and appearing to have been arranged symmetrically with this, have 
 also been discovered, and numerous fragments, some of them of good ar- 
 chitecture, have been dug up here, but these are entirely unconnected 
 with the column, or with one another. Marble fragments of beautiful 
 architecture, on the slope of the hill above the arch of Septimius, are 
 thought to announce the situation of the true temple of Concord, but 
 fragments alone remain. 
 
 These are the nearer objects of this most interesting view ; at a greater 
 distance are the temple of Saturn, that of Antoninus and Faustina, of 
 Romulus and Remus. I give you the names by which they are usually 
 known, without attending to their correctness. Then appear some frag- 
 ments, of nobody knows what. The temple of Peace, the Coliseum, the 
 arch of Titus, the Palatine hill, half covered with shapeless masses of 
 ruin, the Curia Hostilia, and the three beautiful columns which remain of 
 the temple of Jupiter Stator. You seem to burst at once upon the glo- 
 ries of the ancient city, but prostrate in the dust we admire the mighty 
 limbs and giant bulk. I shall not confine myself to the appearance of 
 these as seen from one spot, but carry you to each. 
 
 The Temple of Saturn, or the ^rarium, or the Basilica of Paulus ^mi- 
 lius, or the Church of St. Adrian, which is certainly an old name, presents 
 nothing ancient but a lofty front of brickwork, exemplifying the Ro- 
 man passion for introducing blind arches, even when useless, or injurious. 
 I shall say more of these hereafter, but the construction is of imperial 
 Rome, and has no pretension to a republican date. The erection or trans- 
 formation into a church, is attributed to Pope Onorius the First. 
 
 The Temple of Antoninus is a much more interesting monument ; the 
 portico of six columns in front, and two on each flank still exists, not in- 
 deed entire, but so as to exhibit almost every part. These columns are of 
 
TEMPLE OF JUPITER STATOR. 
 
 335 
 
 cipollino, and are very beautiful, but have been terribly maltreated by 
 those who at one period made them part of their habitations. Parts 
 of the sides also remain, exhibiting the construction of the wall of great 
 blocks of peperino, apparently once covered with marble. The frieze is 
 beautiful, but I need not tell you about a thing which has been so often 
 figured and described. The cornice is, I believe, the only good ancient 
 example of the Corinthian order, which has neither dentils nor modillions, 
 indeed, in all the parts, we find a breadth and simplicity of character 
 which was hardly to be expected in the age of the Antonines. 
 
 On the same side of the way is the Church of the Saints Cosmo and 
 Damiano, said to have been anciently the temple of Romulus and Remus. 
 The entrance is by a plain, but handsome, ancient bronze door. It is 
 however, doubtful, whether this belonged originally to the building. By 
 this, you pass into the vestibule, a circular room covered with a dome, the 
 width and height of which in the present state, are about equal, but the 
 pavement has been considerably raised. This is, I think, all that can 
 pretend to any relation with the ancient temple, and whether it was really 
 a temple dedicated to Romulus and Remus, must remain doubtful. Here 
 were discovered the fragments of the marble plan of Rome, now deposited 
 in the Capitol. Beyond this is a nave of the seventeenth century, erected by 
 Urban the Eighth ; at least what we see internally is of that period.^. Ex- 
 ternally, we may discover some ancient walls of great blocks of peperino, 
 but not sufficient, or not sufficiently exposed, to enable us to understand 
 their distribution. Beyond the nave is the ancient tribune, covered with 
 mosaics. The Roman antiquaries consider the dedication of this church to 
 two brothers, a proof that the original building was a temple of two 
 brothers, and consequently of Romulus and Remus. Unfortunately, 
 the ancient church had no connexion with the vestibule, which is the only 
 remaining part of Roman times, and the union was not effected till the 
 restorations by Urban the Eighth. The argument therefore makes against 
 their proposition. The old walls of peperino may indeed have belonged 
 to such a temple, but neither do these appear to have had any connexion 
 with the circular building in front. 
 
 Nearly opposite to this, (but we have already passed a little too far) are 
 three columns of Jupiter Stator, or of Castor and Pollux, or of the Comi- 
 tia, for all these names have been assigned to them. The Roman anti- 
 quaries are much more successful in oppugning the opinions of others, 
 than in establishing their own. However, the plan which has been pretty 
 
336 
 
 TEMPLE OF JUPITER STATOR. 
 
 completely discovered by the excavations lately made, determines it, al- 
 though deficient in the usual number of columns at the sides, to have been 
 a temple ; and the opinions of the wise seem to lean to Castor and Pol- 
 lux, as rebuilt by Tiberius, though I believe some other notions are still 
 floating among them. The vulgar call it by the name of Jupiter Stator, 
 and we will if you please follow the vulgar, as this is the name by which 
 it is most generally known. Whatever it was, we may fairly pronounce 
 it to have been the most perfect building of which any remains now exist 
 in Rome. I do not mean the most beautiful, for in that, tastes may differ ; 
 but that in which science, skill, and attention, have been most carefully 
 and invariably employed in the design, in the drawing, and in the execu- 
 tion. In the capitals of Mars Ultor, the arrangement of the division of 
 the leaves is differently managed, even in parts of the same capital, appa- 
 rently from mere inattention ; in the fragment of J upiter Tonans, though 
 the execution was laboured to excess, yet some parts of the drawing are 
 faulty ; and in the portico of the Pantheon, the execution was so much 
 neglected, that no two intercolumniations are exactly alike ; there are 
 considerable differences in the capitals, and in the pediment there is one 
 modillion more on one side than on the other. There is no appearance 
 of any of these faults in Jupiter Stator, and there are no other buildings 
 we can put into comparison with it, unless it be the Forum of Trajan, of 
 which we have not sufficient remains to enable us fairly to institute a pa- 
 rallel. Of the general design indeed, we have hardly in any case mate- 
 rials for judging, but the plan and disposition of this temple, bear at least 
 evidence of a careful consideration. The building is of white marble, so 
 that the substance, as well as the workmanship, contributed to the effect 
 of magnificence. The entablature is finely proportioned. It is decidedly 
 Roman in taste, which some persons perhaps may think a defect, and 
 others consider a beauty. The frieze is plain, while one band of the ar- 
 chitrave is ornamented ; this deviation from the usual practice does not 
 seem to me well judged. In the Erectheum at Athens, we find a plain 
 frieze accompanied with a great deal of ornament, not on, but below the 
 architrave ; but in that case the frieze was of black marble, and though 
 now unadorned, the holes in it prove it to have been once enriched with 
 figures of metal, probably of gilt bronze. There is no appearance of any 
 thing of this sort in the temple of Jupiter Stator. The foliage of the ca- 
 pital is extremely different from that of the Pantheon, or indeed of any 
 
TEMPLE OF JUPITER STATOR. 
 
 337 
 
 other example in Rome, presenting much broader and flatter surfaces to 
 the light ; whether this is better or worse, I will not pretend to deter- 
 mine, but I may assert that the present is very beautiful. The upper 
 tooth of each division of the leaves hardly crosses the lower side of the 
 division above ; the second touches without crossing. Mons. Caristie 
 of the French Academy, is at present engaged in making a restoration of 
 this building, and for that purpose following out the minutest details 
 with the greatest care and accuracy ; it was he who pointed out to me 
 many of the particulars I am going to mention. 
 
 You know that the shaft of a column usually enlarges a little at the 
 bottom, and terminates in a fillet above the base. This enlargement, with 
 the fillet, is called the apophysis, and may usually be described in the sec- 
 tion, by a quarter of a circle, of an inch or two radius, but in this exam- 
 ple, the curve seems to be that of an extremely eccentric ellipsis, extend- 
 ing some feet up the shaft, and influencing its general form, so as to re- 
 duce it to a continued flowing serpentine line, from top to bottom. This 
 curvature is so gentle, as not to be perceptible without the most careful 
 examination, but nevertheless, has its effect in giving grace and elegance 
 to the columns. It is quite a mistake to suppose that a variation of form, 
 not immediately cognizable by the eye, must therefore be useless ; every 
 artist has felt, that these slight changes influence the beauty of the com- 
 position, without being themselves obvious, even to a skilful observer. 
 These columns have stood upon a continued pedestal, and under that, is 
 another, or sub-pedestal, containing an arched opening under each inter- 
 columniation. Each pedestal has had its own cornice. In front a flight 
 of twenty-eight steps led from the Via sacra up to a portico of eight co- 
 lumns. This flight of steps was singularly divided into three parts, by 
 two masses of masonry, or pedestals, as perhaps we may call them, of the 
 height of the sub-pedestal. The middle, and by much the largest portion, 
 continued in a straight line from top to bottom ; the two side ones were 
 turned laterally. 
 
 The solid construction of this temple was as remarkable as the disposi- 
 tion of its basement. Under all the columns and w alls, the masonry was 
 formed with great blocks of travertine, and similar blocks formed the ex- 
 ternal circuit of the building. The greater part of the intermediate 
 spaces was filled up with rubble work. The travertine has been an ob- 
 ject of plunder, and the waUs are now traced by the vacancies between 
 
 2 X 
 
338 
 
 TEMPLE OF PEACE. 
 
 the masses of rubble, which was not worth the removing. Even the 
 blocks under the intervals of the three remaining columns, have been 
 taken away, and they stand now entirely detached from each other, (ex- 
 cept by some iron ties inserted for their preservation) from the founda- 
 tion to the architrave, twenty feet more than the proper height of the 
 column. 
 
 From the temple of Jupiter, let me take you to that of Peace, a build- 
 ing of very different style in every respect. The remains consist of three 
 great arches of brick and rubble, nearly of equal size, and of some foun- 
 dations of piers, which exhibit themselves above ground. The plan, 
 which you may see in almost any book of Roman architecture, has been 
 a room, about 24 8 feet long, and 195 wide, composed of a nave, or central 
 part, which is vaulted with three groined arches, and which has on each 
 side three large recesses, rising about as high as the springing of the prin- 
 cipal arches, and occupying nearly their whole width. These groined 
 vaults have had the appearance of resting on eight Corinthian columns, 
 or rather on detached entablatures over such columns. It was probably 
 intended, by throwing the weight on such slender, and apparently ineffi- 
 cient props, to give to the whole an exaggerated appearance of lightness ; 
 the attempt seems injudicious ; yet the same sort of arrangement in the 
 existing hall of the baths of Dioclesian is generally admired. The Ro- 
 mans, this is my present theory, had a sort of architecture borrowed from 
 the Etruscans, before they had much intercourse with Greece. The or- 
 namental parts have presented arches, and niches, and Tuscan columns, 
 which were little more than the wooden props from which the idea of a 
 column has been derived. To this they afterwards added the triglyphs, 
 characteristic of the Doric order ; and thus made what is now caUed the 
 Roman Doric, but which till lately used to be considered as the genuine 
 order ; and imported also the other orders. From these materials, about 
 the time of Augustus, they formed an architecture of their own ; combin- 
 ing with the severe, and as they probably felt it, somewhat monotonous 
 simplicity of the Greek forms, the arches and niches of the Etruscan 
 mode of building ; and executing their works on a large scale, and with 
 a magnificence and fulness of ornament peculiar to themselves. The 
 power of vaulting their apartments, enabled them to combine magnitude 
 and solidity, both real and apparent ; and they no sooner felt the effect 
 thus produced, than they began to abuse their powers in sacrificing every 
 
TEMPLE OF PEACE. 
 
 339 
 
 thing else to this union. The great hall in the baths of Caracalla, was 
 perhaps, the first remarkably successful effort of the sort ; at least we 
 know of nothing earlier, for it is not clear that there was any thing of the 
 kind in the baths of Titus. The novelty was admired, extolled, and 
 imitated ; and this great room, called the Temple of Peace, and the great 
 hall in the baths of Dioclesian, were built upon the same model. Pal- 
 ladio inserts a similar apartment in the baths of Nero and Titus, as well 
 as in those of later date ; but we know not his authority, and the progress 
 would be the same though we should assign an earlier date to the com- 
 mencement of the practice. It is impossible to deny the impressive 
 effect produced by these ample spaces, and bold construction, whatever 
 was the edifice in which they were first introduced, or not to regret, that 
 it should have occasioned the entire disregard of all chaster, and less os- 
 tentatious beauty, both in the masses and in the details. Whatever was 
 the motive of this disposition, its effect in the Temple of Peace is now 
 entirely lost, as the great vault is gone. The stucco panelling of the side- 
 vaults is in a fine free style, but the details are bad, and the execution 
 poor ; a circumstance which we have the opportunity of determining by 
 a large mass of vault lying on the ground, with a considerable portion of 
 these ornaments remaining. The backs of the two side recesses, each 
 with two ranges of comparatively small arches, never could have had a 
 pleasing appearance by any mode of finishing, and the circular recess is 
 still worse in design ; but the latter was a posterior addition, made to con- 
 vert the edifice into a Christian church. Of the great order, the whole 
 entablature is clearly exhibited at one corner, being not continued from 
 one column to another, but returning in itself upon each. Considerable 
 fragments of a smaller order are lying about, presenting continued straight 
 lines, and not contemptible either in design, or workmanship, although 
 not very correct. A third order ornamented the circular recess, and we 
 have also several fragments of the entablature of this part, overloaded with 
 ornaments which are ill drawn, and ill executed. One end wall of the nave 
 seems to have been finished in a manner similar to those of the ends of 
 the two side recesses ; the other has a large niche. We may perhaps trace 
 in this arrangement the first idea of the distribution of the Roman 
 churches. Recent excavations have proved that the plan has hitherto 
 been imperfectly understood. The original entrance was at the end, and 
 the building formed a great hall, terminating in a large niche, and having 
 
 2x2 
 
340 
 
 ARCH OF TITUS. 
 
 three tribunes, square on the plan, on each side, each of which terminated 
 in two rows, each of three arched recesses, some, or all of which, were 
 windows. The middle tribune on one side was opened at some period 
 later than the conversion of Constantine, and a flight of steps made up to 
 it, while a semicircular extremity was added to the opposite tribune ; so 
 that what had been the nave, or leading division of the hall, became the 
 transept of the church, although larger than the part which thus had the 
 effect of a nave, as is the case at present in the church of the baths of 
 Dioclesian. Many of the paving bricks are marked with the name of Do- 
 mitian, but this does not amount to a proof of the date of the edifice, and 
 the execution of the parts shows decisively, that it is not, in its present 
 state, of the age of Vespasian, as has been supposed. It is possible that 
 the mass of the building might be of the time of that emperor, yet I doubt 
 if the introduction of these immense groined vaults can be placed so early. 
 There are indeed some very fine fragments, and in particular, a beautiful 
 piece of cornice with dentils, but without modillions, which now lies in 
 the adjoining church of Santa Francesca Romana. These were plundered 
 from other buildings ; and the artists of that we are now examining, have 
 shown their degeneracy by their clumsy imitations. The stucco work, 
 which must have been made for the building, is still worse than the mar- 
 ble. The circular recess on one side has long been acknowledged to be 
 an addition, but the present opinion does not assign to the whole edifice an 
 antiquity much higher than the reign of Dioclesian, or perhaps of Con- 
 stantine, but the apparent change of its destination, from some profane 
 purpose, probably into that of a Christian church, make me suppose that 
 it must have been, in its original form, prior to the latter emperor. 
 
 From the temple of Peace we have but to cross the way to the Arch 
 of Titus. This is the oldest triumphal arch existing in Rome, and it has 
 perhaps been the most beautiful. It contained only a single opening, 
 by which means the side intercolumniations are rather smaller than where 
 there are also two smaller arches ; and I think this improves the general 
 composition. You know that this building was erected in commemora- 
 tion of the defeat of the Jews, or rather of the destruction of the Jewish 
 nation by Titus ; and part of its interest is derived from the sacred 
 utensils sculptured in its bas-reliefs. 
 
 At the distance of a few steps from the arch of Titus, we find two 
 temples, placed back to back, sometimes called the temples of the Sun 
 
COLISEUM. 
 
 341 
 
 and Moon, but I am better satisfied to believe them the temples of Venus 
 and Rome, designed by Hadrian, and criticised by Apollodorus. The 
 criticism was too just to be forgiven, and it cost the unfortunate artist 
 his life. Ruins have more claim on our attention, when we know, or 
 fancy that we know, something of their history, and here the probability 
 is much in favour of their connexion with the story. Palladio restored 
 these temples with a portico, or rather loggia to each, of six columns, 
 and four pilasters, not the height of the building. It seems more probable 
 that each had a lofty decastyle portico and pediment, as is usual in 
 temples. Uggeri, who has given a plan on this supposition, says that he 
 has made them peripteral, instead of amphiprostyle, but in fact, both his 
 design and that of Palladio are amphiprostyle. In order to effect this, he 
 has crowded his columns too much, and if there were ten of them, the 
 building was in all probability peripteral. It was inclosed in a peribolus, 
 surrounded by a peristyle of granite columns of considerable size, many 
 fragments of which still remain. 
 
 Underneath the wall of this building, we see a slab of white marble, 
 apparently the remains of a pavement of that material : this is thought 
 to have belonged to Nero's golden house. Some other foundations have 
 been found by digging, which are attributed to the same source. We 
 will now pass to the Coliseum, without stopping to examine the shapeless 
 fragment of a fountain, or aqueduct, called the Meta sudans. What an 
 immense mass ! You walk round it, and within it. You pace its long 
 corridors, or stand on the top of its half ruined vaults, and everywhere? 
 and in every part, and from every point of view, the same impression 
 occurs of enormous magnitude. You may visit it again and again, and 
 you will still feel this one character eternally repeated. To the painter, 
 in its present state of ruin, it offers many picturesque combinations and 
 admirable studies. The antiquary may delight in tracing the various 
 parts, and imagining their uses ; but to the architect it does not say much. 
 As a whole it is a mere mass, with little merit of design or execution. 
 None of the orders are good, and the mouldings are indifferently drawn 
 and worse executed, as might be expected from the manner in which it 
 was raised. Yet on the whole, the details of the architecture are better 
 than I expected from the engravings. It is curious, that although the 
 arches are semicircular, and of small span, the arch-stones are joggled;* 
 
 * Joggles are projecting parts on the lateral surface of some of the stones forming the arch. 
 
342 
 
 BATHS OP TITUS. 
 
 this would seem to indicate no great confidence in the form of the arch, 
 and consequently not much habit of using it, at that time. Travertine, 
 brickwork, and rubble are intermixed in the construction, and the ancient 
 pavement in some of the passages so exactly resembles Dutch clinkers, 
 that I should have had no doubt of their being such, had I met with them 
 in England. This building has suffered tremendously, as every one 
 knows, by furnishing materials for the Roman palaces. Lately, a part 
 which threatened to fall, has been supported by a vast brick wall of no 
 inconsiderable expense.* During the residence of the French it was 
 cleared out both internally and externally, and some curious construction, 
 partly of blocks of travertine, partly of brick, and small, rough masonry, 
 was discovered in the arena : the use and date of these have been much 
 disputed. Some of the slighter walls have been supposed to have been 
 erected by the Frangipani family, which had here established a dyeing- 
 house ; but they are all now filled up, not however to the former level, 
 for the present arena is said to be eight feet lower than it was. 
 
 Almost close to the Coliseum, is the Arch of Constantine, shining like a 
 jay, says Milizia, in borrowed feathers. Much of the sculpture represents 
 the exploits of Trajan, and was doubtless taken from an arch dedicated 
 to that emperor, but it has been disputed whether Constantine transferred 
 them from the arch in the forum of Trajan, or whether he altered and 
 restored an arch upon the spot. The latter supposition is inadmissible, 
 since the bases of the pilasters are of Constantine's time, judging, as we 
 may fairly do in this case, by the workmanship ; while those of the co- 
 lumns, which are so much more exposed to destruction and to change, 
 are antique ; and of the sixteen internal angles made by the cornice, 
 points also very much protected by their situation, not one is entirely 
 of the more ancient execution. The parts of architecture not made for 
 this arch, are very beautiful, but rather perhaps in a more delicate style 
 than that of the fragments remaining of the forum and basilica of Trajan. 
 The general form and proportion of the edifice are also good. 
 
 On the opposite side of the Coliseum, on the slope of the Esquiline, 
 are the subterraneous chambers, commonly called the Baths of Titus, 
 
 fitted into corresponding recesses in the surface of the adjoining stone. They are only now 
 used, where we wish to obtain the strength of an arch, without the appearance of one. 
 
 * Other restorations in a better style, and preserving the character of the old work, were in 
 progress in 1826. 
 
BATHS OF TITUS. 343 
 
 whence the arabesque paintings of the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries 
 are said to have been derived. These ornaments however have, properly 
 speaking, nothing to do with the baths, but belonged to a magnificent 
 palace of an earlier date, whose walls were left by Titus to serve as part 
 of the supports to the apartments fabricated above them. A vast number 
 of chambers thus become subterraneous, still remain, and numerous 
 additional vaulted rooms occupy the courts of the ancient mansion, and 
 advance in front of them to complete the substructions required for the 
 arrangements above. These additional parts may be distinguished by 
 the quality of the work, and still more readily by the want of stucco, and 
 of every sort of ornament. The Roman antiquaries pretend to determine 
 that this palace had been abandoned some time before it was thus buried, 
 and that parts of it had been divided into small habitations for the poorer 
 class. Many of these vaults, as well of the ancient building, as of the 
 additions under Titus, were cleared out during the authority of the French 
 in Rome, but a still larger number remains more or less filled with 
 rubbish, purposely thrown in from above, and this circumstance, together 
 with the change of destination in the edifice, produces an intricacy, or 
 rather confusion in the plan, which the spectator does not easily unravel, 
 and it is with astonishment that we contemplate these lofty and spacious 
 apartments, covered with the richest ornaments, and a profusion of 
 painting and gilding, where it seems as if the light of day could never 
 have entered ; but when the circumstances of the building are once 
 well understood, these particularities, and some irregularities in the plan, 
 which at first sight appear incomprehensible, are fully explained. While 
 all these were considered as parts of the baths of Titus, all strangers used 
 to be told, that the Laocoon was found in them, and the very pedestal on 
 which it stood was pointed out ; but now, when it is established that these 
 chambers never constituted any portion of the baths, this notion is given 
 up ; since in fact all we know on the subject is, that the Laocoon was 
 found in or near the baths of Titus. I do not know whether a magni- 
 ficent bathing vessel of rosso antico, now in the Vatican, is in the same 
 predicament, but it was said one time to have been found here. In a 
 long corridor which formed one side of the internal court of the palace, 
 the painting on the vaults remains tolerably perfect. We see it by means 
 of a candle fixed at the end of a long reed, and consequently the examina- 
 tion cannot be very exact, but it is enough to shew to us the grace and spirit 
 
344 BATHS OF TITUS. 
 
 of the figures, and the delicacy of the ornament. In another part of the 
 ruins we scramble over heaps of rubbish, in chambers nearly filled up, 
 sometimes walking nearly upright, oftener half doubled, or crawling on 
 all-fours, to a part where there are similar paintings, which may be 
 examined close at hand. The execution is slight but firm, suited to the 
 position in which they were to be seen. The arrangement of the orna- 
 ments, architecturally speaking, is bad, but in themselves they are gene- 
 rally beautiful, and the figures both of men and animals are drawn not 
 only with spirit and truth, but with a grace of attitude and elegance of 
 form, which we certainly do not find in works of this nature in modern 
 times. One conceives that a very superior artist must have made the 
 drawings, and that they were copied on the walls by skilful workmen. 
 There are some apartments, and lofty vaults above ground, but at a 
 greater distance from the Coliseum ; and a large reservoir, called the setlc 
 sale, or seven halls, out of the general circuit of the building. It consists 
 of nine vaults, with the doors so disposed that you may see seven of them 
 on a diagonal line at one view. The deposit on the sides proves suffi- 
 ciently that they were reservoirs for water, and they are supposed to have 
 supplied the baths of Titus and Trajan. The present circumstances of 
 these ruins scattered over a great extent of ground, some in one vineyard, 
 and some in another, accessible by different ways, and where in going 
 from one to another, one loses altogether the traces of antiquity, perhaps 
 fill the imagination more, than if they were in one inclosure ; for the 
 apparent distance is increased by this want of union, by the crooked 
 paths, through which one reaches them, and by the number of objects 
 intervening ; but there is nothing in any one of the superior buildings to 
 detain the spectator for long. More pains perhaps have been taken about 
 the plan of this edifice, than of any other of the ancient baths, but none 
 of the obscurer ruins of Rome have been well made out, and even the 
 less obvious parts of the most interesting buildings, have till lately excited 
 little attention. At every step we have to complain that the Roman 
 antiquities, in spite of all which has been written upon them, have never 
 been published. 
 
 These remains, as I have said, are on the Esquiline ; on the opposite 
 slope of the Coelian, are some buildings, consisting of piers, vaults, and 
 arcades ; with a sort of Doric pilaster and entablature, much in the style 
 of the Coliseum, and supposed to have been erected at the same time, or 
 
PALATINE. 
 
 345 
 
 shortly after, for the reception of wild beasts for the use of the amphi- 
 theatre. Returning again towards the Capitol, we find the Palatine, 
 half covered with ruins, mixed with modern convents ; and the buildings 
 of the Farnese gardens, designed by M. A. Buonarotti, and by Vignola. 
 Amongst these is a subterranean apartment, without any opening for the 
 external light, known by the name of the baths of Livia, which have been 
 very highly ornamented with painting and gilding, and with little bas- 
 reliefs in stucco ; and considerable remains of these decorations still 
 exist. I shall not attempt to lead you to all the different masses of ruin, 
 the long vaults, and immense solid piers, crowded together on this hill ; 
 but I cannot omit to mention a noble terrace supported on vaults, which 
 commands the Circus maximus, and a number of interesting objects finely 
 combined. After all, supposing the whole summit of the Palatine to have 
 been occupied by the palace, which was probably the case, it would not 
 have been much larger than that designed by Inigo J ones for Charles I., 
 and of which the Banquetting-house was built as a specimen. The Ro- 
 man palace must have been very irregular, the natural effect of having 
 been erected at different times, and by men whose views were very dif- 
 ferent. Amongst its ruins we are shown a Hippodrome, a Temple of 
 Apollo, and more things than I can undertake to name ; and in the villa 
 Spada, the casino of which boasts some nearly invisible productions of 
 the pencil of Giulio Romano, is a considerable subterraneum, called the 
 Baths of Nero. As in the baths of Titus, you have to hunt out these 
 fragments in different gardens and vineyards, the entrances to which are 
 frequently very wide apart, nor is it always easy to obtain admission. 
 
346 
 
 LETTER XXIV. 
 
 ROMAN ANTIQUITIES. 
 
 Rome, February, 1817. 
 
 In my last I gave you some account of the buildings about the Forum, 
 or perhaps I should say, about the Campo Vaccino, for the ancient forum 
 was of much less extent from N. W. to S. E., which is its present direc- 
 tion, and greater from N. E. to S. W., reaching as far as the circular 
 church of St. Theodore, supposed to have been a temple of Romulus ; 
 but not apparently to the building called the temple of Vesta, or even to 
 the arch of Janus; as these stood, not in the great Forum, but in the 
 cattle-market, or Forum Boarium. The church of St. Theodore above- 
 mentioned, is a circular brick building, or at least coated with brick, for 
 the interior is probably rubble. We have no reason to believe any of the 
 present remains to be of very bigh antiquity, or if there be any thing of 
 the sort, it is concealed by the more recent covering, which is supposed 
 to have been made, or much repaired, at the time the building was con- 
 verted into a Christian church. According to Manazzale it was rislabilita 
 by Adrian I. in 774, rijabhricala by Nicolas V. in 1450. Among the ar- 
 guments used to prove it to have been the ancient temple of Romulus, 
 or at least to have occupied its site, is a fancied similarity between St. 
 Theodore (usually called San Toto), and the founder of the Roman state ; 
 and the custom still existing, of carrying to it sick children for the reco- 
 very of their health, since it appears that the same practice prevailed in 
 ancient times, with respect to the temple of Romulus. This argument 
 is of some value, since the Romans still retain many local heathen super- 
 stitions. Behind this building is a small fragment of wall of opus incertum, 
 against the Palatine hill, which we may pronounce more ancient than the 
 temple itself, and probably of a republican period. The pavement of 
 the yard in front, and of a considerable portion of the street, is formed of 
 what is usually called serpentine ; but I believe it has no affinity with the 
 stone now so named by mineralogists, but is rather a green porphyry. 
 One finds in Rome, however, another stone called green porphyry, very 
 different from this, and agreeing with the red porphyry in every thing 
 but its colour. 
 
CLOACA. 
 
 347 
 
 In the neighbourhood of the ancient Forum Boarium, are the remains 
 of five edifices ; the first in our route is the Arch of Janus, which I need 
 not be very particular in describing, as it has little pretension to any sort 
 of beauty. The mouldings, without being good, are better drawn, and 
 better executed than those of the arch of Constantine, which were made 
 for the building. One or two fragments seem to have belonged to some- 
 thing else, but in general there is a uniformity of design and execution. 
 Close by this is the Arch of the Goldsmiths, dedicated to Septimius 
 Severus, which, in spite of the name, is in fact, no arch at all, but consists 
 of an entablature supported on two piers, which are ornamented with 
 pilasters of the Composite order ; it is covered with a profusion of orna- 
 ments in bad taste, but producing, nevertheless, some richness of effect. 
 
 The Cloaca Maxima is so little visible that one can hardly form a 
 decided judgment concerning its construction. It is said to be of peperino, 
 or rather of what Brocchi has called ttifa litoide, repaired in many places 
 with travertine. We see only two ends of a short piece, running perhaps 
 two hundred yards, from the neighbourhood of the arch of Janus into the 
 Tiber. At the upper end only one course of arch stones, of peperino, or 
 tufa is seen, and the joints seem somewhat loosened by time; in front of 
 this is another arch of brick, springing from a higher level, but apparently 
 of ancient workmanship. The older arch is filled up with silt to some- 
 what above the springing. Towards the land, the modern sewer varies 
 its direction, and the old one is entirely filled up. Close by the sewer is 
 a good spring of clear water, and a little higher up, another more copious 
 one. They are so far distinct, that the use of the upper as a washing- 
 place does not affect the lower. The upper spring appears from beneath 
 a brick arch, and may therefore be brought from some distance ; the lower 
 rises under rocks. The position of this spring is of importance in settling 
 the topography of ancient Rome, as it must have supplied the lake Ju- 
 turna, and have been the place where Castor and Pollux were seen wa- 
 tering their horses after the battle of the lake Regillus. Some have sup- 
 posed another spring, in order to put the lake of Juturna, and conse- 
 quently the temple of Vesta, at the foot of the Palatine, just by the three 
 columns of Jupiter Stator ; the arrangement is doubtless convenient, but 
 the evidence is defective. The outlet of the Cloaca into the Tiber has 
 three courses of arch stones of peperino, as perfect as if done yesterday, 
 and of excellent masonry, but in so exposed a situation it is hardly credi- 
 
 2 Y 2 
 
348 
 
 TEMPLE OF VESTA. 
 
 ble, that some restorations should not at times have been necessary. It 
 appears among the remains of an ancient wall, which is also of peperino, 
 or tufa, but of a softer variety and less perfect workmanship. We may 
 suppose all this prior to Augustus, but between the kings and emperors 
 there is a very wide interval, and there seems no mode of fixing a precise 
 date for any of the restorations ; what evidence we possess is certainly in 
 favour of its having retained the form and arrangement given to it by the 
 Tarquins. 
 
 The next antiquity 1 shall notice, consists of some columns in the 
 church of Santa Maria, in Cosmedim. The church itself is a basilica of 
 very early date, and presents nothing of pagan antiquities in its general 
 appearance externally, excepting some ancient fragments of architecture in 
 the portico, and a large stone, supposed to have been the covering of a 
 sewer, representing a huge round face with an open mouth. It is called 
 the Bocca della verita, because if you assert a falsehood with your hand in 
 this mouth, it will close upon you. 
 
 Within side are nine large columns, which have evidently formed part 
 of the peristyle of a temple, and probably remain in their original position. 
 Seven of them have very beautiful Composite capitals, which may proba- 
 bly be considered the best examples of that order in Rome. The church 
 contains a very rich pavement of the sort called Byzantine, composed of 
 tesselated marbles, and there are about twenty other small marble columns, 
 the spoils of various buildings, with capitals of all ages, from the time of 
 Titus to that of Constantine, and perhaps later. From some appearances, 
 one might imagine that the larger columns were shaken by an earthquake. 
 One of their capitals was wanting, and has been supplied from some other 
 ancient building ; but even this alteration must have been prior to the date 
 of the present church, in which neither columns nor capitals are of any 
 value. There are some walls of the ancient temple behind the choir. 
 This church also preserves its ancient marble pulpit and reading-desk ; 
 and there is an ancient picture, which we are told floated of itself by sea 
 from Greece, about the year 800. 
 
 I shall now proceed to a more beautiful and more perfect remain, usu- 
 ally called the Temple of Vesta. The antiquaries here are pretty gene- 
 rally agreed that it has no right to the appellation, though there are some 
 arguments in its favour, and rather assign it to Hercules Victor, built 
 A. U. C. 480. For my part I doubt, as every body must be content to do. 
 
TEMPLE OF VESTA. 
 
 349 
 
 who troubles himself with the names of the Roman antiquities, and be- 
 lieves only according to evidence. It is a small cell, partly of brick, and 
 partly of stone ; the latter ancient, the former modern ; surrounded by a 
 peristyle of twenty elegant Corinthian columns of white marble, some of 
 which have capitals in the Greek taste, and some rather more in the Ro- 
 man. I believe I have already noticed this distinction, but I will now in 
 a few words endeavour to explain to you in what it consists. In the Greek 
 order, the abacus is not cut off at the angles ; the general form of the capital 
 more or less resembles that of a bell ; and in the foliage of the leaves, one 
 part does not lie over the other, but the divisions merely touch each other 
 at the points. In the Roman, the angles of the abacus are cut off ; the 
 general form is that of a funnel ; and the lower divisions of the leaves 
 usually lie over the upper. What I here call Greek foliage is frequently 
 designated as consisting of the leaves of the acanthus ; while the Roman 
 is considered to be imitated from olive leaves ; there is little resemblance 
 to either, yet the olive branch may have suggested the idea of the Roman 
 ornament ; while the Greek resembles some sorts of thistle, rather than 
 the acanthus of Linnaeus, but it is probable that the Greeks intended a 
 thistle by the name acanthus, though the mollis Acantlius of Virgil seems 
 to belong to some other plant, and his evergreen acanthus must again be 
 different. 
 
 When the Romans first began to feel the beauties of Grecian architec- 
 ture, they probably were obliged to make use of Greek artists for its 
 execution, and to such a period I attribute the present edifice. About 
 the time of Augustus, the Romans had formed to themselves a style deci- 
 dedly their own, and differing in many particulars from their Greek mo- 
 dels. From that emperor to Trajan, or perhaps later, we do not find any 
 capital, or other ornamental part of public buildings, in which the taste of 
 the details is Greek ; but as skill in the fine arts seems to have utterly disap- 
 peared in Italy, sooner than in Greece, the Romans of the latter age had 
 again recourse to the chisel of Greek artists. In the time of Trajan in- 
 deed, Apollodorus grecised, but in a different manner. The forms of the 
 mouldings in the forum of Trajan approach to those of the Greeks, and 
 they are executed with Grecian truth and delicacy of workmanship, but 
 the ornaments are such as were usual at Rome. In the temple of Vesta 
 the ornament is Greek, but it is not particularly well executed. The en- 
 tablature is entirely gone, nor are there any fragments by which to re- 
 
350 
 
 TEMPLE OF FILIAL PIETY. 
 
 store it. Pieces of the soffite of the portico however, are found, and 
 some antejixce have been dug up, which perhaps belonged to this edifice. 
 The bases are in the Roman taste, and well designed, though rather 
 smaller than usual ; they have no separate plinths, but are set on one 
 which is continued round the building, and forms the upper step. 
 
 Before the first volume of the Ionian antiquities, published by the Di- 
 lettanti Society, had made us acquainted with really fine specimens of the 
 Ionic order, the Temple of Fortuna Virilis was cited as one of its best 
 examples. As usual, the Roman antiquaries are agreed about nothing 
 but that this edifice is misnamed. It is of a clumsy overcharged archi- 
 tecture, but looks rather better in reality than in the drawings, because 
 the relief of the ornaments is very small. Part of the old work having 
 been much defaced, new mouldings have been badly executed in plaster, 
 without the ornaments. 
 
 I have mentioned a sepulchre of Pontius Pilate at Vienne, in Dau- 
 phine. His palace is at Rome, if you believe tradition, and a very curious 
 palace it must have been, whimsically made up with fragments of better 
 times. The edifice has been more reasonably supposed the habitation of 
 Rienzi, tribune of the people in the fourteenth century, whose curious 
 history you have read in Gibbon. The authority for this is an inscription 
 which states it to have been erected by Nicolas, son of Crescentius and 
 Theodora. 
 
 The ancient Pons Palatinus was built, or at least begun by Marcus 
 Fulvius, who was censor in 575 ; and terminated by Scipio Africanus in 
 612, A. U. C. It was thrown down in 1598, and the present fragment is 
 for the most part a papal structure of the seventeenth century. A little, 
 and but very little, of the ancient Roman work is visible. A stranger is 
 perhaps more struck by the nets turned round by the action of the water, 
 than by the remains of the bridge. These nets are intended for large fish, 
 and principally sturgeon, whose nature it is to push quietly against the 
 obstacle ; the weight of the fish prevents the motion of the net, till the 
 person appointed to watch it can take possession of his prey. 
 
 Before we reach the theatre of Marcellus, we have to hunt out the 
 ruins of three temples, which stand close together, almost indeed touching 
 in some parts, but not placed symmetrically, or even paralkl to each 
 other. One of these is supposed to have been the Temple of Filial 
 Piety, erected on the site of the prison where the story recorded by Pliny 
 
PANTHEON. 
 
 351 
 
 occurred, of a father nourished by the milk of his daughter ; but nobody 
 has yet attempted to determine which of the three. The present church 
 of S. Nicola in Carcere, seems to preserve in its name some memory of 
 the tradition, and this occupies the whole space of the middle temple, 
 while parts of the peristyles of the two others are built up in its side 
 walls. The middle one was a hexastyle, peripteral temple, of the Ionic 
 order, built of peperino. Of that on the right of the spectator, we may 
 see a range of five of the columns of the flank. They have a sort of Co- 
 rinthian capital, but I would not venture from the little that is seen of 
 the architecture, to guess at the date. The third was Doric, and much 
 smaller. 
 
 We may next visit the Theatre of Marcellus, of which but little is 
 seen, as it is encumbered with the formless mass of the Orsini Palace, and 
 that little is occupied by a range of dii ty shops. Enough remains to show 
 that the architecture has been such as we might expect from the date of 
 its erection. It formed for a long while the model of the Doric order, 
 and is still considered as the finest example remaining of what is called 
 Roman Doric, although the introduction of dentils in the cornice is es- 
 teemed very licentious. The Roman Doric, however, is an order of which 
 we have so few ancient examples, that our choice is extremely limited. 
 Of the Theatre of Pompey nothing is to be seen but a few vaults, and a 
 range of houses, whose circular form points out that they have been 
 erected on the ancient foundations. 
 
 The Portico of Octavia is a fine fragment, in an awkward, dirty, disa- 
 greeable situation. The order has not much ornament, but it is well pro- 
 portioned. The effect is spoiled by the brick walls and arches, which 
 have been erected to supply the place of the deficient columns, and some 
 of these are as early as the reign of Severus. Several of the antefixae of 
 this roof still exist, but I believe they have fallen down and been put up 
 again, so that we cannot determine what was their precise situation. 
 
 This portico anciently enclosed two temples, and with a long neck you 
 may contrive to see the Composite capital of a column of one of them, which 
 is supposed to be the most ancient specimen of the order in existence ; I 
 can venture no criticisms on what is so imperfectly visible. 
 
 There are some vestiges of the baths of Agrippa in stables behind the 
 Pantheon, upon which I shall not stop to speculate, nor upon the more 
 conspicuous Arco de' Ciambelli, which is also supposed to have belonged 
 
352 
 
 PANTHEON. 
 
 to them, but transport you at once to the Pantheon itself, the most per- 
 fect and majestic edifice remaining, of the good time of Roman architec- 
 ture. I must according to my plan, begin with what may be learnt or 
 guessed relating to its history. For a long while, the prevailing opinion 
 was, that the body of the edifice was of the time of the republic, and the 
 portico an addition made by Agrippa : indeed there were some very mys- 
 terious dreams about the purpose and antiquity of this temple. I have 
 already mentioned the investigations of M. Achille Le Clerc ; the cell 
 seems to have formed a complete circular building itself, not essentially 
 attached to any thing, except at the back, where some remains, attributed 
 to the baths of Agrippa, appear to be united with it, but there is no trace 
 of a door, or other opening, to form a communication between them. In 
 front, the two masses of brickwork which at present support the turrets, are 
 added to bring out a straight line to receive the portico, leaving between 
 them a space which is covered with a vault, and which may be termed 
 the pronaos. To these the portico is added, but there is no intimate 
 union either between the circular part and these projections, or between the 
 latter and the portico. A brick wall, rising considerably above the roof 
 of the portico, is supported on the arch over the pronaos, which occupies 
 the space continued from the three middle intercolumniations of the 
 portico ; and on this wall there is a pediment, or part of a pediment, for 
 the top is cut off, and it seems uncertain if it ever formed a complete 
 triangle ; and it is this pediment, and the detached construction of 
 the dilFerent parts, which have afforded the antiquaries a motive for be- 
 lieving the present portico a posterior addition. If, reasoned M. Le Clerc, 
 the building was originally finished without a portico, we shall find 
 traces of the method of completing it without one either on the circular 
 cell, or on the face of the two additional masses of brickwork. He exa- 
 mined both with the greatest care, and in both was perfectly satisfied, 
 from the interruption of the mouldings, and also from the offsets of the 
 work, that no finishing could ever have taken place on either, but that 
 the present portico, or something analogous to it, must have existed from 
 the first. 
 
 Some differences in the materials and in the workmanship, the want of 
 correspondence in the design, and the partial settlements which have 
 taken place, are all adverse to the opinion that the whole building was 
 executed at once, and two circumstances induce me to suppose that the 
 
PANTHEON. 
 
 353 
 
 cell is even posterior to the portico. The first is, that the use of burnt 
 bricks was only recently introduced into Rome at the time of Agrippa, 
 as appears from the manner in which Vitruvius speaks of them ; and the 
 first effort would scarcely be one of this magnitude and importance. My 
 reasons for believing the use of burnt bricks to be adopted in Rome at so late 
 a period, I mean to give you more in detail in a future letter. Perhaps 
 we may use a similar argument concerning the form of the edifice, for 
 though we have no precise idea of the date of the first introduction of 
 domes, yet it seems probable that it must be assigned to about this pe- 
 riod, and it would not be easy to imagine that the first erection would be 
 on so large a scale ; at the same time I must acknowledge, that we have 
 no dome remaining of any size, which can put in a probable claim to a 
 greater antiquity than the Pantheon. The second circumstance is, that 
 the marble employed in the portico and pronaos, is the Pentelic, while 
 that within is of Carrara. I do not think the passage in Pliny deter- 
 mines the first use of Luna, or Carrara marble in Rome ; he may, perhaps, 
 only have alluded to the discovery of a whiter and more beautiful bed, 
 but I think we have sufficient remains to show that the employment of 
 Greek marble in Rome, generally preceded that of the Italian. It has 
 however, been contended, that the body of brickwork was erected before 
 the portico : that this followed, and that all the marble finishings of the 
 inside were added afterwards. The argument for this is the want of any 
 correspondence between the marble finishings, and the openings and dis- 
 tribution of the brickwork. I will oppose to it a particularity in the 
 construction of this brickwork. The Romans appear to have been early 
 accustomed to the use of discharging arches ; they introduced straight 
 arches, (that is, an arrangement of bricks acting against one another as 
 wedges, but kept in a line, nearly, or quite straight) over their openings, 
 instead of solid stone lintels ; but aware of the weakness arising from this 
 method of employing the materials, they formed over them a semicircular 
 arch, by which means the weight of the superincumbent wall was thrown 
 upon solid parts which were able to bear it. In the earliest buildings 
 which remain, and in general, even down to the time of Caracalla, this prac- 
 tice was used reasonably, and with moderation ; but in later times, arches 
 were employed, not for use, but for affectation ; straight arches were em- 
 ployed where there were no openings, and discharging arches, which 
 threw the weight rather on a weaker than on a stronger part. The brick- 
 
 2 z 
 
354 
 
 PANTHEON. 
 
 work of the Pantheon displays abuses of this sort, which is certainly a 
 reason for assigning as late a date to its erection as is consistent with 
 what we know of its history. Nevertheless, a cloud of witnesses esta- 
 blish the whole as the work of Agrippa, and perhaps, all that we ought to 
 conclude from the want of correspondence in the different parts is, that 
 different architects were employed, whose views were not altogether the 
 same. Septimius Severus performed considerable restorations, but prin- 
 cipally within side, and we have nothing to guide us as to the particulars 
 of what was then executed, except the character of the work itself. This 
 building, which seems to have contained no woodwork, except perhaps a 
 small portion entirely concealed in the roof of the portico, is said to have 
 suffered from fire ; one proof among many that I could cite to you, that 
 brick, stone, and bronze, were anciently combustible. After the transfer 
 of the seat of empire to Constantinople, the Pantheon became an object, 
 not of care, but of plunder. Constans robbed it of its covering of bronze 
 tiles, and other depredations were made on it. About 608, Pope Boni- 
 face IV. consecrated it as a Christian church, but this did not preserve it 
 from further spoliation. A little plaster now often serves to supply the 
 place of the metals or marble taken away. 
 
 Modern buildings so surround the body of this edifice, that it is only 
 very imperfectly that we judge of its merits as a whole ; enough how- 
 ever is seen to prove the majestic and impressive character of this sim- 
 ple form. Its great distinction, in comparing its proportions with those 
 of modern structures, is in the lowness of the dome, both as a whole, 
 and in the circular part, which is left exposed. If we consider the 
 roof of a modern church as a basement, we shall find the proportions 
 of the drum and cupola more lofty than those of the Pantheon. In 
 St. Peter's, and in St. Paul's, the architects have had recourse to a 
 double, or triple construction in order to obtain this elevation, with- 
 out producing internal deformity, and to this again a lantern is added, in 
 order to give a still greater elevation to the design. This has been done 
 with correct judgment, because the lower part of the edifice does not 
 merely in picturesque effect act as a basement, but because it is united 
 with the upper into an acutely pyramidal form, which it is important to 
 preserve. If accessories were added to the Pantheon it would be neces- 
 sary to give the general composition a very obtusely triangular outline. 
 The Gothic artists aspired to a form more acutely triangular than those 
 
PANTHEON. 
 
 355 
 
 of the Italian architects. Each disposition has its beauties ; the Gothic 
 arrangement conveys the idea of power by the appearance of height, the 
 ancient Roman, by that of extent. The modern Italians have attempted 
 the union of the two. The obtuse triangle gives more the impression of 
 strength and durability, and has also the advantage of producing a build- 
 ing of which a much greater proportion can be applied to internal use and 
 effect. Three cornices surround the circular part. Palladio has intro- 
 duced two stories of pilasters in the upper divisions. I know not what 
 authority he might have had for this, but what we at present see is a 
 rough brickwork, which was certainly covered in some way. The two 
 turrets are modern, but it seems to me there must have been some addi- 
 tional elevation given to these parts in the original work. All our modern 
 restorations' agree in exhibiting a square mass behind the portico, which 
 would look particularly bald and disagreeable, especially as it would be 
 seen over the two pediments. The portico has eight columns in front, 
 surmounted by a pediment, and is the only antiquity now remaining here, 
 sufficiently perfect to exhibit the effect of this simple and beautiful ar- 
 rangement. We have such things in the recent architecture of England, 
 and some of them are very handsome, though in general they want depth. 
 In Italy, I do not believe that it has ever been imitated by the moderns. 
 We might, perhaps, find a reason for this in the very existence of such 
 beautiful remains in the buildings of antiquity, and something must be 
 allowed for the strong predilection for intricacy of form, which seems al- 
 ways, more or less, to have influenced the architects of this country. 
 The same perfect simplicity of design is not preserved within the portico, 
 it is divided by columns into something like three naves, and the centre 
 of the great niche, on each side, is opposed to the centre of a column, and 
 not to that of one of the spaces. The Romans began to spoil Grecian 
 architecture as soon as they adopted it ; substituting variety of form, and 
 richness of material, to the simple elegance of arrangement, and the deli- 
 cacy and beauty of finish which they found in their models. Simplicity 
 may be carried to an extreme, and persons of the best and purest taste will 
 differ as to the precise degree of it required. The interior of the portico of 
 the Pantheon does not pass the limits of what a great number of amateurs 
 would consider, not merely as an excusable, but as a desirable degree of in- 
 tricacy ; and compared to modern edifices, to the front of a Roman 
 church for instance, or to the portico of St. Genevieve, at Paris, it is ex- 
 
 2 z 2 
 
356 
 
 PANTHEON. 
 
 tremely simple. The columns are of granite, and it appears that, origin- 
 ally, those in front were of a granite with white felspar, which is usu- 
 ally called here oriental granite, and the internal ones of a granite, or 
 syenite, containing red felspar, which is said to be brought from Egypt ; 
 of the reason of this difference I can give no guess. By a restoration of 
 modern times, one of the columns of red granite has got in front. In 
 some of the columns, the granite has scaled off by the action of the weather, 
 parallel to the curved surface. They are all finely wrought, the bases and 
 capitals are of white Pentelic marble, and the latter by no means all of 
 equal excellence in point of execution. Urban VIII., who restored one 
 of them, has inserted his hees instead of flowers in the abacus. The pi- 
 lasters are of Pentelic marble, and in short all the other ornamental parts 
 belonging to the portico and pronaos. The marble coating which once 
 covered what is now naked brickwork, is gone nobody knows where, and 
 the bare walls, and naked roofs, add to the grandevir of the edifice some- 
 thing of the melancholy of a ruin. The ceiling of the portico was of gilt 
 bronze, but how this was disposed is a question which has been much 
 agitated, the probable opinion is, that it formed a panelled vault over each 
 division. Urban VIII. took away this bronze, then, as it appears, in a 
 very decayed state, formed from it the four twisted columns which sup- 
 port the canopy over the high altar at St. Peter's, and cast several can- 
 non from the remainder. One of the nails, weighing forty-seven pounds, 
 is said to be in England ; the whole weight of nails was nine thousand 
 three hundred and seventy-four pounds ; the metal altogether weighed 
 four hundred and fifty thousand two hundred and fifty pounds. 
 
 The marble doorway corresponds, both internally and externally, with 
 the architecture of the portico, and not with that of the Pantheon itself : 
 the opening is about nineteen feet wide and thirty-eight high, but within 
 this, are pilasters of bronze which form the actual doorway. On these 
 hang magnificent doors, also of bronze, and over them is a grating of the 
 same metal. All these evidently form one thing, and belong to each 
 other, and probably to the place where they are fixed : though it has been 
 said that the original ones were carried away by Genseric, and that these 
 were supplied from some other edifice. 
 
 I do not believe there is any person so insensible to the effect of archi- 
 tecture, as not to feel the surpassing beauty of this building internally ; 
 the simplicity and grace of its form, the beautiful colour of its marbles. 
 
PANTHEON. 
 
 357 
 
 principally of the giallo antico, and the delightful effect of its single 
 central light, force themselves upon our admiration. The giallo antico is 
 the most beautiful of all coloured marbles for the purposes of architecture, 
 as its gentle glow is always harmonious, and the delicate variations of its 
 tint are not such as to confuse the forms of the mouldings, while at the 
 same lime they are sufficient to relieve the deadness of a surface totally 
 unornamented. Yet even here, the edifice has faults, and great ones. 
 I do not mean by this, mere offences against arbitrary rules, but circum- 
 stances which are certainly injurious to its perfection, and to the agree- 
 able impression on the mind of the spectator. The columns are rather 
 too small in proportion to the size of the building ; the entablature is 
 disagreeably interrupted by two arches, and these arches on a curved sur- 
 face are necessarily supine, that is, the crown falls back behind the spring- 
 ing, and this gives them an awkward appearance. The space above the 
 columns, which is a modern alteration, so late as the last century, is alto- 
 gether bad. Till then, an attic existed adorned with pilasters, formed 
 not in relief, but by different coloured marbles. This was attributed to 
 Septimius Severus, and not generally approved, but it seems to me to 
 have been well calculated to preserve the general impression of the 
 building, and to have contributed to give rather an increased value to the 
 order below. 
 
 It would probably be better (internally) to make the upright part of a 
 building of this sort, somewhat greater than the semidiameter of the cir- 
 cle on the plan ; at least in the present case, the dome itself seems to come 
 rather too near the eye, and to occupy too much of the view, especially 
 in the condition it now is, presenting an overwhelming extent of whitewash. 
 It is supposed that this was also covered with bronze panels, but the time 
 of their removal seems uncertain. These panels would probably have fol- 
 lowed the disposition of those now existing in the brickwork and stucco ; 
 that is, they must have been in square coffers, and in such a case the most 
 obvious way of cutting the recesses is to make them at right angles to the 
 surface of each part ; or, to speak more mathematically, at right angles 
 to the tangents of the surface, and consequently, all tending to the centre 
 of the curve ; here they are cut in almost vertically, or if they do tend to 
 a common centre, it is to one below the eye of the spectator standing in 
 the centre of the room. Some people affect to understand the reason 
 of this ; but the result is distortion, and if really intended to produce 
 
358 
 
 PANTHEON. 
 
 any pleasing optical deception, it must be attributed to great want of 
 judgment, as it could only succeed from one spot, and must look ill 
 everywhere else ; whereas, without any such contrivance, the spectator 
 himself would at once make allowance for situation, and the mind would 
 be satisfied ; for in architecture, and probably in all the fine arts, it is often 
 rather what we understand than what we see, that produces the sensa- 
 tion of pleasure. In unusual situations some allowance may be permitted, 
 but it should always be so limited, that a moderately practised eye will 
 not perceive it. If, instead of being drawn to the centre of the hemi- 
 sphere, which as I have said before, is the most obvious method of form- 
 ing them, the lines of the recesses had been directed to a point eighteen 
 or twenty feet below it, it is possible that they would have appeared to tend 
 more correctly to that centre, than if they had been really drawn to it ; 
 but as they are, every body at once perceives that they are not so drawn. 
 These panels are omitted for a circle of considerable width round the 
 opening in the centre, but we cannot doubt that this part also, had 
 originally its share of decoration. The little altars are all bad in design, 
 and worse in execution, but not all equally so : the best of them are usu- 
 ally attributed to Septimius Severus. 
 
 I cannot leave the building without noticing some particulars of less 
 consequence, which deserve notice, because in such a building, the defects 
 as well as the beauties become lessons, and it is necessary, to an architect 
 at least, carefully to examine and separate one from the other ; for oddly 
 as it sounds in theory, everybody knows that we have a strong tendency 
 in practice, to copy without discrimination. In the interior order, the 
 corona is too small, and the projection of the sima too great, giving to 
 the cornice a thin and wiry edge. This appears to have resulted from a 
 feeling common to the Roman artists, who endeavoured to produce a 
 broad line of shade as high as possible on the cornice, while the Greeks 
 on the contrary, endeavoured to obtain there, a breadth of light, with 
 only one or two narrow, but distinct and sharply marked lines of shadow. 
 In this instance, from the lofty position of the opening, the first distinct 
 light is on the uncut dentil band, and here it is rather a defect than a 
 merit. The mouldings are generally rather small ; the panelling of the 
 soffite of the cornice is in oblongs, not in squares, and this displeases, and 
 the execution is not very perfect. In our books we usually see the 
 curves of the mouldings described by portions of circles, but this is rarely 
 
BASILICA OF ANTONINUS. 
 
 359 
 
 the case. I think they were drawn by hand to please the eye of the ar- 
 tist, and not according to any system. On the roof of the building we still 
 see some lead of the repairs of 1451, and the ancient marble slabs of the 
 platform immediately above the upper cornice remain under the lead, but 
 broken, and without the cover-tiles. Round the central opening parts of 
 the ancient bronze cornice remain, and some of the gilding with which it 
 was enriched. 
 
 In our way home we may stop to look at the Basilica of Antoninus, 
 now used as the custom-house. It consists of a range of eleven fine, but 
 much injured Corinthian columns. The frieze and cornice are modern, 
 the former is swelled, and as it is of stucco, and shows no joints, you are 
 assured by the Romans that it is all of one piece of stone. They pay the 
 same compliment to the doorway of the Palazzo Sciarra, consisting of two 
 columns, with their entablature, pilasters, &c. ; because, being well executed, 
 the joints are not readily distinguishable. On passing to the inside, we 
 are struck with the vast masses of stone and rubble-work suspended over 
 our heads, but nothing in fact remains erect but this range of columns, 
 whose spaces are now filled up with modern chambers, and the part sup- 
 ported by them. 
 
360 
 
 LETTER XXV. 
 
 SAINT Peter's. 
 
 Rome, March, 1817. 
 
 After a view of the principal antiquities, the attention of a stranger is 
 naturally directed towards the Vatican ; and as I gave you a promise 
 some time ago to send you the result of my examination of St. Peter's, 
 and to explain to you why it looks smaller than it is, I am now about to 
 fulfil my engagement to the best of my ability. In order however, not 
 altogether to abandon my usual course, I will first give a sketch of its his- 
 tory, which may save you the trouble of hunting it out in Bonanni and 
 Fontana ; for what I can communicate on the subject will be principally 
 taken from these authors, with a little assistance now and then from Mi- 
 lizia. I intend in my next letter to give you a general view of the ancient 
 basilicas, and I shall reserve for that, my remarks on the old church built by 
 Constantine on this spot. In the time of Nicolas V. (A. D. 1447) it was 
 verging to ruin, and that pontiff undertook to erect a new building on 
 such a scale, and with such accompaniments, that even the present work, 
 with all its appendages, and the adjoining palace of the Vatican, are hardly 
 equal to it. Three broad and straight streets, with porticos on each 
 side, were to have conducted to the church. This was to have been 
 formed on the most magnificent scale, and finished with the richest ma- 
 terials : adjoining would have been a palace large enough to aflFord accom- 
 modation to the pope and all his court ; to all the cardinals and their at- 
 tendants ; to various officers of government ; and besides this, spacious 
 apartments for as many sovereigns, with their numerous suites, as could 
 be ever at one time at Rome : add to all this, pleasure-grounds, gardens, 
 and fountains, and a great theatre for the ceremonies of coronation. A 
 Florentine artist, Bernardo Rossellini, made the designs for these vast 
 edifices ; but the Pope died, and the idea was abandoned. Julius II. re- 
 sumed it, as far as the erection of a new church, and invited different 
 artists to present to him their plans. Such a competition took place on 
 this occasion as is not to be seen in these degenerate days : Bramante ; 
 Giuliano di San Gallo ; Fra Giacomo, or perhaps rather Fra Giocondo, as 
 
SAINT PETERS. 
 
 361 
 
 it seems to be the man whose life is sketched under that name by Milizia ; 
 Peruzzi ; Raphael, and J. Battista Berti, produced their designs ; but 
 that of Bramante was preferred : his plan however has not, I believe, been 
 preserved, and we can only form some judgment of it from that of Raphael, 
 which has been published by Serlio, and which according to that author, 
 was formed on that of his predecessor. Bramante began to clear the 
 ground and to prepare for the work in 1506, but according to Milizia the 
 edifice was not begun till 1513. This artist raised the piers of the dome 
 as high as the cornice ; and turned the arches upon them ; he also carried 
 up the walls of the central tribune, forming the head of the cross ; but as 
 he died in 1514, he had not time to perform any very extensive works ; 
 and both Julius and himself seem to have been more anxious to see the 
 effect of a part, than to proceed regularly with the whole design. 
 
 Raphael's design presents to our view a Latin cross, with side aisles 
 extending the whole length of the building, and each of the tribunes ter- 
 minating in a semicircle : behind these tribunes, and not connected with 
 the aisles of the building, were galleries of the same form, divided from the 
 body of the church by piers and columns, the object of which to me is not 
 very intelligible : and I have seen no elevation or section, to enable me to 
 understand their effect, except as they seem to be preserved in the design 
 of Antonio Sangallo ; they are there lower than the other parts of the build- 
 ing, though the want of elevation is masked externally by the upper order. 
 The portico is composed of three ranges, each of twelve columns, forming 
 a parallelogram, but not placed at equal distances ; some medals of Julius 
 II. and of Leo X., are supposed to exhibit the front of Bramante's build- 
 ing, but the figure given in them has no similarity to this portico of Ra- 
 phael. The dome published by Serlio is that of Bramante ; it would have 
 been low compared to that which has actually been erected ; single, and 
 surrounded with a colonnade of single Corinthian columns. 
 
 Leo X. appointed Giuliano di Sangallo and his younger brother An- 
 tonio architects of St. Peter's, in conjunction with Raphael ; but Milizia 
 tells us that the elder Sangallo, advanced in years, and oppressed with * 
 disease, refused the employment. From this period to 1520, it does not 
 seem that any thing was done, except strengthening the erections of Bra- 
 mante, whose piers were neither by their mass, nor the perfection of their 
 workmanship, calculated to support the weight intended to be placed upon 
 them ; this strengthening however was not such as to alter their form ma- 
 
 3 a 
 
362 
 
 SAINT Peter's. 
 
 tei ially. After Raphael's death in 1520, Baldassare Peruzzi was appointed 
 architect. He reduced the Latin cross to a Greek one by shortening the 
 the nave, and terminating it with a semicircle, so as to make all the arms 
 precisely alike, with an entrance in each. He also appears to have made 
 some changes in the smaller parts, if we may trust to Serlio's miserable 
 engravings. Leo died in 1521 ; but though we hear much of the expenses 
 incurred in the prosecution of the work during his pontificate, we are ig- 
 norant of the state in which he left it. Peruzzi suffered greatly at the 
 famous sack of Rome by the Germans in 1527, and afterwards lived in 
 great poverty till 1536. The situation of the Roman pontiffs at that pe- 
 riod was not such as to permit them to proceed with their building. 
 
 Antonio Sangallo, nephew of the preceding architects of that name, 
 succeeded. This architect greatly increased the extent of the design, by 
 adding a large edifice at the end of the nave, with two lofty detached stee- 
 ples, and thus making the outside form that of a Latin cross, but without 
 changing the general shape of the inside ; he proposed to close up the 
 openings from the tribune into the semicircular gallery behind it, leaving 
 only three small doorways ; the dome was to have been ornamented with 
 two rows of columns and arches, but it still remained single, and the in- 
 ternal height corresponded with that of the outside. In order to perform 
 all this, he again strengthened the foundations. 
 
 The model of this stupendous design, although made by the hands 
 of Labacco, who was servant of Sangallo, cost 4,184 crowns; it is 
 preserved in the present church, and is itself a building which may de- 
 serve some description. The plan, as I have already said, is a Greek 
 cross, with arms of considerable length, each terminating in a semi- 
 circle. The angles of this simple form are occupied by four other Greek 
 crosses, so that the construction appears to depend on sixteen masses. 
 Four of these, each of which is a square with one angle cut away, sup- 
 port the dome. It is said that in Bramante s design these were to 
 have been hollow ; but the model exhibits no opening into them. Eight 
 other masses are perforated, to correspond with the circular corridors 
 behind the tribunes. These do not shew their whole width towards the 
 great cross, the centre of the semicircle being brought a little inwards. 
 The four remaining masses which form the angles of the general square, 
 are each hollow, and crowned with an octagonal turret. In the execution 
 of the building the external circuit has been much contracted, and the 
 
SAINT Peter's. 
 
 363 
 
 corridors round the semicircles entirely suppressed ; but in other respects 
 this plan is very nearly the same as that of the present church. Immedi- 
 ately in front is another large edifice, forming rather a disproportionate 
 vestibule. It is perforated in both directions by a large open arch, and 
 flanked by two lofty detached towers, whose height is equal to that of the 
 central cupola with its lantern and ornaments. 
 
 The body of the building is ornamented with two orders, Doric below 
 and Ionic above. Between them is an enormous Attic which might itself 
 be called an order. The towers have a second range of Ionic semi- 
 columns and one of Corinthian. They are then contracted to an octagon, 
 and afterwards become round ; in this part we find a circle of sixteen de- 
 tached Corinthian columns, with their entablature and a balustrade above. 
 On the balustrade, perpendicularly over each column, is a conical orna- 
 ment, eight larger cones rise from the wall of the interior cylinder, and a 
 still larger crowns the whole edifice. This apparent tendency to run up 
 into cones harmonizes admirably with the lofty proportions of the cam- 
 panili, and produces a splendour, and liveliness of effect, which would be 
 entirely lost with a common sloping roof, or with a cupola. Indeed the 
 whole of the upper part is exceedingly beautiful. The central division 
 of the facade exhibits two large arches, one over the other, and a pediment 
 at top. On each side is a division not much smaller, which also has a 
 pediment, but not placed so high, and we see behind it an octangular 
 turret. The large central arch has a magnificent effect ; but it would 
 have had it in still greater degree if it had been larger, and in one height. 
 Yet perhaps this would not have been in harmony with the general cha- 
 racter of the building, where magnificence is obtained by the multiplicity 
 of the parts, rather than by their individual dimensions. Two ranges of 
 arches surround the cupola. One in the upright of the drum, and the 
 other in the height of the curve. The lantern is very large, and conse- 
 quently, but a small portion of the cupola is exhibited, which perhaps 
 adds to its apparent solidity, and to the majesty of the edifice. The de- 
 corations of the lantern correspond with those of the summits of the cam- 
 panili, but as the parts have a greater extent to the same elevation, the 
 perfect harmony of the composition is still preserved. 
 
 This Sangallo, who was the most celebrated architect of that name, 
 and the one always understood when no addition is employed, died in 
 1546, and Michael Angelo Buonarotti was appointed architect. He at 
 
 3 A 2 
 
364 
 
 SAINT PETER S. 
 
 first refused the office, and when the Pope, by a motu propio gave him full 
 authority to do and undo whatever he pleased, he insisted that a declara- 
 tion should be inserted, that he undertook it for the love of God, and 
 without any salary or reward ; nor was this an idle boast, for although 
 Paul III. repeatedly urged his acceptance of some remuneration, he inva- 
 riably refused it. 
 
 Michael Angelo was not content to strip Peruzzi's design of all that 
 Sangallo had added to it, but he also omitted the semicircular galleries 
 behind the tribunes, which his predecessor had already separated from 
 the church ; he altered the design of the dome nearly to the form which 
 it has at present, making it double ; the one seen internally being no 
 longer the same as that exhibited on the outside ; and surrounding the 
 drum with a single range of coupled columns. He designed also a sort 
 of double portico, which certainly has no similarity to that of the Pantheon, 
 although you will find it asserted in some books that the one was copied 
 from the other. Eight large columns form the range next the church, 
 and four others in front of the four middle ones support a pediment, and 
 form a sort of portico to the portico ; it is by no means a handsome ar- 
 rangement. A few alterations in the details, and the insertion of some 
 broken pediments over the windows internally, seem also to have been 
 designed by Michael Angelo. There was perhaps a little ostentation in 
 producing a model of the altered design in fifteen days, and at the ex- 
 pense of twenty-five crowns ; while Sangallo's model had occupied 
 several years ; but St. Peter's at this time had become a standing job^ 
 and the underlings employed in it, instead of feeling any zeal to complete 
 it, considered an appointment in the building as an establishment for life. 
 All this Michael Angelo endeavoured to put an end to, and excited 
 great ill-will towards himself by so doing ; but his wonderful talents and 
 high character carried him through all opposition. He began his works 
 by still further strengthening the great piers, which, though they had been 
 repeatedly reinforced, did not yet appear to him as strong as they ought 
 to be. To what point he carried the work, I do not know ; but the whole, 
 as far as the extent of the Greek cross, seems to have been continued 
 nearly according to his design. 
 
 Milizia says that Pirro Ligorio was appointed architect of St. Peter's 
 conjointly with Michael Angelo : but according to Bonanni, P. Ligorio 
 and Vignola were joint architects after the death of that great man, which 
 
SAINT Peter's. 
 
 3G5 
 
 happened in 1564. I do not know that Ligorio did any thing ; Vignola 
 erected the two smaller cupolas, which are universally admired, but very 
 little seen from their position on the building, as now lengthened into a 
 Latin cross. He died in 1573, and the next architect we have any ac- 
 count of, is Giacomo della Porta, who was a pupil of Vignola ; and un- 
 der his direction, and that of Domenico Fontana, who was united with 
 him for this purpose by Sixtus V., the great dome was erected in twenty- 
 two months by the labour of 600 men ; it was completed in 1590, but 
 without the lantern, which was executed under Clement VIII. Giovanni 
 Fontana, brother of Domenico, was also architect to St. Peter's, and then 
 follows the nephew of Domenico, Carlo Maderno, who lengthened the 
 nave, and brought the building, internally, as well as externally, to the 
 shape of the Latin cross, for which he has been plentifully abused ; he 
 also erected the front, in which he seems to have failed as much in con- 
 struction as in taste, since the foundations gave way before the work was 
 completed ; and though they were strengthened in consequence, yet they 
 were not at last firm enough to support the bell towers, which were to 
 have terminated the extremities of the elevation. Bernini was indeed 
 engaged by Urban VIII. to erect these bell towers, and one of them was 
 actually built ; but though of a very light style of architecture, it was too 
 heavy for the edifice, and immediately taken down again. At this time 
 St. Peter's may be said to have been finished. Bernini added the gal- 
 leries and colonnades in front, and adorned or encumbered the interior, 
 with the chair, and the confessional of St. Peter. Carlo Fontana in later 
 times drew up a description of the building by the command of Innocent 
 XL, and a loose estimate of its value, not from the sums which it had ac- 
 tually cost, because many of the accounts had been lost, but from the 
 quantity of materials employed. These he reckons at 111,122,000 cubic 
 Roman palms ; 
 
 Scudi. 
 
 And this, at 32| bajocchi per palm cube amounts to . . . 36,114,650 
 For 1 28 marble columns, each 40 palms high, he adds . . 236,800 
 And allows for the other extras 10,800,000 
 
 without publishing the details of his calculations : and he adds up these 
 to make a total of 46,800,498, which is an arithmetic that I do not well 
 understand, as it seems to me that it ought to be 47,151,450. This esti- 
 
366 
 
 SAINT Peter's. 
 
 mate is independent of the tower erected and taken down, and of all other 
 alterations which took place in the progress of the work ; it is also inde- 
 pendent of the paintings ; and if I understand rightly, it does not include 
 the chair of St. Peter, or the bronze confessional erected by Bernini. 
 The Chair of St. Peter is also of bronze, and gilt, and cost 107,501 
 
 scudi, 44- scudi being equal to 10/. sterling. 
 
 Scudi. 
 
 Bernini had for his superintendence 8,000 
 
 The founder (John Artusius) 28,000 
 
 The smoothing and polishing 4,000 
 
 Gold laid on 6,000 
 
 Labour of gilding 3,000 
 
 The bronze weighed 219,061 lbs. ; of this the bronze of the statue of 
 St. Andrew weighed 34,023, of St. Augustin, 30,791, of St. Athanasius, 
 23,652, of St. Chrysostom, 27,791. 
 
 The bronze of the Confessional weighs 186,392 lbs. Bernini had for 
 his superintendence 10,000 crowns and a pension : no architect seems 
 ever to have been so well paid for his labours as Bernini. 
 
 About the end of the seventeenth century an alarm was excited that 
 the dome was about to give way. Fontana in consequence examined it, 
 and found that there were indeed some cracks, but none of any conse- 
 quence, or such as to excite the least reasonable apprehension for the 
 safety of the building. In 1742, however, the report again prevailed, 
 and many mathematicians and architects were called upon for their opi- 
 nions, and gave, as is frequently the case, very discordant ones : the 
 architects not dividing against the mathematicians, but both classes 
 disagreeing among themselves. There is in the Vatican a model of half 
 the cupola, which is believed to be that made under the direction of 
 Michael Angelo previous to carrying it into execution. It is carried 
 down cylindrically to the floor, so that it does not exhibit the mode of 
 construction in pendentive. The appearance is that of a triple dome, 
 but perhaps with connecting ribs between the two outer. The chief 
 strength seems to be placed in the middle dome, the weight of which 
 is brought down to the internal face of the drum. Three iron bands 
 are marked in the construction, one entirely buried in the united base 
 of the domes; the other two on the outer surface of the middle 
 
SAINT Peter's. 
 
 367 
 
 dome. The cracks which took place in the drum are painted on this 
 model, and on a comparison with those whose vestiges are still visible 
 on the building, apparently with considerable care and attention. They 
 occurred all round the drum, and denote some enlargement in that part 
 from the expansion of the dome, but in spite of all these iron ties, the 
 cracks in the buttresses are the most numerous and important, and from 
 their direction, almost uniformly outwards and downwards, indicate a 
 settlement of the whole drum upon the pendentives, while the columns, 
 resting upon the direct arches of the nave, have retained or nearly 
 retained their position. The great piers have therefore probably gone 
 outward, and when in the building, by bringing my eye carefully so as to 
 compare the angle of a pilaster not affected by this operation, with those 
 of the central cupola, I think I can perceive that such an effect has 
 taken place. Nor has the movement entirely ceased, since a dovetailed 
 piece of marble, inserted to ascertain the fact in 1810 was found broken 
 in 1825. Perhaps there never was any just ground of alarm; yet as 
 one of the iron circles intended to contain the thrust had given way, 
 there probably had been a considerable settlement, but not more than 
 might have been expected from the different periods in which the work 
 had been carried up, and the repeated strengthenings which the solids 
 had received. Nevertheless it was determined to insert five bands of iron, 
 which were all let into the masonry, and made tight and sound, under 
 the direction of Vanvitelli. The broken chain was restored, but another 
 chain had been originally inserted in the thickness of the wall : this there 
 was no opportunity of examining : in order to be perfectly secure, a 
 sixth band was inserted in its neighbourhood, so that in all probability 
 the dome and its drum are now secured by eight iron bands, five of which 
 are in the drum : one at the springing of the arch, and two on the surface 
 of the dome itself It is doubted among the Italian architects whether 
 the insertion of all these bands did not do more harm than any strength 
 they could afford to the building can compensate. 
 
 The Sacristy was added in 1780 by Pius VI. under the direction of 
 Carlo Marchionni. It is a vast building, enriched with the most beau- 
 tiful marbles ; and cost above 900,000 crowns ; but I shall despatch it 
 with this short notice, as it is neither beautiful in itself, nor does it form 
 an appropriate addition to the edifice to which it is attached. And now, 
 
368 
 
 SAINT Peter's. 
 
 putting an end to the history of the building, let us proceed to the result 
 of all these efforts. 
 
 There is no distant point of view in which this church gives the 
 impression of great magnificence, or from which it has the appearance of 
 being such an immense building as it really is. This is owing to the 
 situation ; and perhaps no building of great consequence was ever so 
 badly placed. It stands in a hollow between the Janicular and Vatican 
 hills, which are connected by a neck behind it ; so that on three sides 
 it is surrounded by slopes rising almost immediately from it, and about 
 equalling the height of the nave, and in front, in spite of the large space 
 before it, it seems encumbered by houses, which prevent the view down 
 to the base. These houses only occupy a slip extending from the church 
 down to the river, and it is said the French intended to have cleared 
 them away, and to have continued an open portico across, about at the 
 extremity of the present colonnades. From the bridge of St. Angelo, 
 and from the road beyond it, you would then have had a very noble 
 view of the whole edifice, of which the dome would be the principal 
 feature ; till, as you approached more nearly, the increasing apparent 
 magnitude of the colonnade for a short space would have excluded, or 
 nearly so, the principal object : after passing through this, the church 
 would have presented itself under another aspect, the dome being nearly 
 lost, but the fa^j'ade opening upon the spectator in all its magnitude, with 
 its accompanying galleries and colonnades. The great advantage of 
 such an arrangement would be this, that as the dome and front do not 
 well correspond together, their union would be masked just at the 
 point where it is most disagreeable; and as the columns of the portico 
 could not be seen as objects of any consequence, in comparison with 
 the church, till we were fairly among them ; the false estimate usually 
 formed of their magnitude would be avoided, and they would serve to 
 correct our notions of the magnitude of the building, instead of helping 
 to mislead, as they do at present. This scheme is, I apprehend, aban- 
 doned ; and we now from the bridge of St. Angelo see little but the 
 dome itself, and after passing it, proceed along a dirty narrow street, 
 whence we see nothing ; at last we catch a glimpse of part of the front, 
 and at the same time, of the extremity of the circular colonnade. Lest 
 you should not have a plan at hand, I give you a little sketch of one : 
 
SAINT Peter's. 
 
 369 
 
 (Fig. I.) a is the church, b b the galleries leading to it from the colonnades, 
 cc the circular colonnades, d the obelisk, ee the two fountains, / the point 
 which first catches your eye on your approach. 
 
 Fig. 1. Fig. 2. 
 
 On my first visit to St. Peter's, the appearance of this point puzzled 
 me extremely ; it appeared to be close against the church, while on the 
 other hand, it seemed so near to the houses at the end of the street, that 
 I could not imagine any considerable space between them : I did not 
 doubt that I had taken the wrong road, and expected to find myself 
 close to the church, missing the celebrated place and colonnades, in front 
 of it ; at last, however, it opened upon me, and with great magnificence. 
 I should have been more impressed if I had not heard so much of it ; 
 yet still it is a scene not to be forgotten ; and perhaps it is not the less 
 strongly fixed in the memory, because the overwhelming deformity of 
 the facade, half destroys its power of pleasing. Yet here, with the whole 
 before me, I should have formed a very false estimate of its magnitude ; 
 the columns of the colonnade are nearly five feet in diameter : had I 
 been asked at that moment how large they were, I should have replied, 
 not merely from the first feeling, but on considering, and comparing 
 what was within view from the one point, that they fell short of four. 
 There are indeed generally figures about, which would enable one to 
 judge more nearly; but they look like children. The half columns in 
 front of the church are nine feet in diameter, I should not have guessed 
 them at more than six, and in both instances I should have thought that 
 
 3 b 
 
370 
 
 SAINT PETER S. 
 
 I made an allowance for optical deception. What is the reason of this ? 
 I shall begin with the colonnade. 
 
 In the first place, the colonnade looks small, because it is so palpably 
 a thing of mere ornament, not connected with, or forming any part of 
 the building, or applied to any useful purpose ; and the understanding is 
 not easily reconciled to such great masses thus, employed : I do not mean 
 here to restrict the term useful to the narrow sense to which we often 
 find it limited in England. Magnificence is use. When well displayed, 
 it is calculated to produce respect and awe, or at least a frame of mind 
 which readily admits those sentiments, and therefore it ought to be 
 found in public edifices, and still more in, and about the temples of the 
 Deity ; I mean to give you, by and by, the reasons why this colonnade 
 does not completely come within this rule. I admit that it does so in 
 some degree, but not so as fully to satisfy the mind. 
 
 In the second place, the colonnade looks smaller than it is, because the 
 church seems to be much nearer to the spectator than is the fact ; thus 
 the apparent space is diminished, and with the space, all the objects it 
 contains. 
 
 The church looks nearer than it really is, first, from its enormous size ; 
 secondly, from all those causes hereafter to be explained, which make it 
 appear smaller : the angle at the eye of the spectator being given, to 
 appear smaller, it must also appear nearer : and thirdly, from the position 
 of the galleries at b. These galleries recede as they approach the church, 
 but they do not appear to do so, and the spectator imagines them of 
 course perpendicular to the facade. He may know the contrary from 
 reading, or from plans ; but this consideration does not enter into those 
 rapid judgments on which the impressive effect of a building principally 
 depends. Let us then suppose the eye to be at e. Fig. 2. Although the 
 line a c, from its inclined position, be really longer than a b, yet it will 
 not appear longer than from a to d, and the space from d to b \s entirely 
 lost. This gallery ascends towards the church, and the leading line, 
 which is the cornice, instead of sinking, as the perspective requires, from 
 a to c, if as usual it were horizontal, appears to sink no more than if 
 the line were carried only to f. The spectator does not precisely imagine 
 this: the lines look confused, and out of drawing; but it aids in reducing 
 the ide^ of length, and deprives him of the means of correcting the for- 
 mer impression. Thirdly, the colonnade looks small, because the church 
 looks small, and the eye in some degree measures one by the other. 
 
SAINT Peter's. 
 
 371 
 
 The church looks smaller. First, from all the causes which make the 
 colonnade look smaller; they act, as I have just said, mutually upon 
 each other ; if there were only this reciprocal action, the effect would 
 perhaps vanish, but each contains also independent sources of this de- 
 ception. 
 
 Secondly, from all those circumstances already explained, which make 
 it appear near. 
 
 Thirdly, from its own composition. The breaks of the entablature 
 have very much the effect of reducing the columns and pilasters into 
 ornaments, and one cannot imagine mere ornaments of such gigantic 
 proportions. Another circumstance is, the division of the height of the 
 order into three stories ; it looks therefore more like a palace than a 
 church. An enormous palace I grant, but still the imagination is con- 
 ducted towards the usual appearances of human life. Now we know 
 that 26 or 28 feet are sufficient for the loftiest story ; that 10 or 12 feet 
 form an immense mezzanine ; and that 20 feet for the upper story is 
 magnificent ; and this gives a height of 60 feet, instead of 90. I merely 
 put these dimensions down, to exemplify the principle on which the 
 apparent size is reduced. We certainly do not make all these guesses 
 on considering the building, nor perhaps any of them; the comparison 
 is probably never put distinctly into words, but is rather felt than ex- 
 pressed ; yet I have no doubt of its existence. The stories form a scale 
 by which we measure the whole height; our judgment is therefore the 
 result of proportion, but of proportion misapplied. Then the Attics form 
 another story, and who wants garrets thirty feet high ? Another cause 
 of misapprehension arises from the Vatican Palace just by, which stands 
 on higher ground, and absolutely appears to overtop the cathedral. 
 
 So much for its magnitude ; in other respects the front of the building 
 is hardly worth a single observation, and the galleries connecting it with 
 the colonnade may be dismissed as readily, but the colonnade itself re- 
 quires some further remarks. It is said to be the masterpiece of Bernini, 
 and is certainly a very fine thing ; but in estimating the merit of the ar- 
 chitect, we must consider, not merely the effect produced, but the means 
 employed to produce it : here are two hundred and fifty-six columns, 5 
 feet in diameter, and 40 feet high, with their complete entablature and ap- 
 pendages. A dipteral hypsethral temple with twelve columns in front 
 and ornamented with columns also internally, the largest known to anti- 
 
 3 B 2 
 
372 
 
 SAINT Peter's. 
 
 quity, only employs at the utmost one hundred and ninety-six. It is 
 beautiful in design, graceful and even magnificent ; yet magnificence is 
 not its character. The design would be better on a smaller scale, with 
 Corinthian columns hardly as high as the present, and an ornamented 
 Corinthian entablature. The design has richness and magnificence, but 
 it has not majesty or sublimity ; and it is this want of majesty which 
 makes one unwilling to admit its size, and communicates an appearance 
 of uselessness. But you will ask me. If thus enriched and adorned, would 
 it form a suitable approach to St. Peter's ? I answer No, nor does it 
 now ; and the proof of this is, that it looks better any way than towards 
 the church. It is more beautiful considered alone, than united with the 
 building it was meant to accompany. There are several considerable de- 
 fects in the details ; the curves are injudiciously broken in the middle, and 
 the columns, bigger in the middle of the shaft than at the bottom, have 
 some resemblance to barrels ; but neither of these are of much conse- 
 quence in the general view, though very disagreeable when considered 
 separately. The fountains are beautiful, and they are mere fountains, 
 without tritons or nymphs blowing up water, or any affectation of the 
 sort ; and this to my eyes is a very great merit, especially in Rome, where 
 they have been so prodigal of these accessories. The obelisk would, I 
 think, be better away ; if there were two, instead of one, leaving the 
 centre clear, I should like the effect better, but all the obelisks in Rome 
 are single, and badly mounted. 
 
 You enter St. Peter's by a vaulted gallery, whose length is equal to the 
 breadth of the building, and whose height occupies what is apparently the 
 first story ; this arrangement occurs in several of the Roman basilican 
 churches, and is adopted in order to obtain an upper gallery, from which 
 the benediction is given. It forms frequently a very noble porch, and 
 is certainly a highly magnificent feature in this instance, though defaced 
 by many errors in the architecture. There is a smaller order employed in 
 the openings of the front, subordinate to the principal one, which in the 
 general view looks quite small ; but after passing a short time in this cor- 
 ridor, the eye acquires a new scale, and these become noble columns ; 
 while even a third order, which adorns the doors of the church seems of 
 
 considerable size. We enter. After all the abuse which has been 
 
 bestowed on the building for looking little, and all the absurd admiration 
 it has obtained for this defect, the spectator must perceive at once that 
 
SAINT Peter's. 
 
 373 
 
 he is in the largest, far the largest room he ever saw, and if he have any 
 sentiment in the art, he must feel the strong impression of a most noble 
 and magnificent piece of architecture. Of one where the richness of the 
 material is combined with justness of proportion, and where science, 
 taste, and genius have united with riches and power to produce sublimity. 
 For my own part, I was indeed on my guard against the deception, but it 
 seemed to me to be impossible that any one should seriously believe the 
 cupids or ange's at the font, to be no bigger than little children, or sup- 
 pose the doves mentioned by Eustace to be of the natural size. 
 
 All these criticisms, and conjectures, and comparisons, are sadly inju- 
 rious to the first impression of a building ; they divert the attention from 
 the sublime and admirable whole, to fix it on trifles; but they are so 
 drilled into one by boobs, and by the driest of all dry prosers, the Roman 
 antiquaries, who are anxious to show you that they know every thing, by 
 letting you feel nothing, that it is I believe impossible to enter the church 
 with the same simplicity, and freedom from system, with which you would 
 enter a less celebrated edifice ; but if you should ever come to Rome, let 
 me exhort you to pay your first visit to St. Peter's alone, and if you must 
 think of these things at first, turn your back on all your knowledge as soon 
 as you can ; this is the true way, both to judge of, and enjoy a fine building. 
 Criticise afterwards, and you will find yourself able from time to time to 
 correct your criticisms, and to repeat your enjoyment, by recalling the 
 first impressions ; but if you begin by dwelling on the details, and still 
 more by minuting the defects, you may indeed feel the beauties of the ar- 
 chitecture afterwards, but never with that vividness, or the same unmixed 
 delight, that you experience, if you begin by laying yourself completely 
 open to it. This unfortunately is a pleasure which I cannot communicate 
 by words, and I must therefore descend to the more distinct and tangible 
 field of criticism. 
 
 If the peculiarity of this building, in looking so much smaller than the 
 truth has been exaggerated, I must however acknowledge that there is 
 some foundation for it. It is probable that whatever the disposition 
 might be, the mind would never give credit at first glance to its unusual 
 dimensions ; but great part of the secret lies in a single word, dispropor- 
 tion. The nave is composed of alternate arches and piers, with two Corin- 
 thian pilasters in each pier. Now a column is made to diminish upwards ; 
 and the circumference at the necking is a little more than three times the 
 
374 
 
 SAINT Peter's. 
 
 top diameter, or about two and a half times the bottom diameter. Sup- 
 pose, for example, a column 7 feet in diameter at the base ; it usually dimi- 
 nishes one-sixth of its diameter, and therefore would be 70 inches at the 
 top, and the circumference 220 inches : now, as there are always eight 
 leaves, each leaf, including the very small interval between them, would 
 measure 27^ inches in width : a pilaster of the same diameter would be 84 
 inches on each face, at top as well as at bottom, since it is not usual to 
 diminish them upwards ; and as it has always two leaves on each exposed 
 face, each leaf, with the interval, or measured from centre to centre, either 
 of leaf or interval, would be 42 inches wide, instead of 27^ ; and this dis- 
 proportionate size of the leaves tends to diminish by comparison the size of 
 the other parts, and makes a room ornamented with pilasters, look smaller 
 than one surrounded by columns. The other architectural details are in 
 general rather too small than too large. The next source of deception 
 may be found in the panels of coloured marbles in the pilasters of the se- 
 cond order. The contrast brings the object apparently nearer, and conse- 
 quently makes it look smaller. This is assisted by the overcharged sculp- 
 ture of these panels, and its great projection, rather than relief. A third 
 source of error is in the figures of the spandrils of the principal arches 
 (which I believe are only of plaster). A number of colossal angels are 
 crawling out of their triangular holes, and sprawling over the lines of the 
 arcliivolt below them, and of the entablature above ; they look as if they 
 must fall out, and it is a great pity they do not. These have no inconsi- 
 derable effect in diminishing the apparent size of the architecture. The 
 fourth cause of deception is in the too great size of the orders of the 
 altars. The church has three orders : the large one which supports the 
 vaulting ; a secondary one belonging to the side arches, 'and the aisles, and 
 also forming an essential part of the edifice ; and a third to the altars, 
 which is mere furniture. This last cuts the lines of the entablature of the 
 second order, and thus gains size for itself, but it is at the expense of the 
 building. 
 
 The sculpture all over the church is too large, (except the pieta of 
 Michael Angelo,) and this may be enumerated among the causes which 
 diminish the apparent magnitude; for though perfectly aware that they 
 are of stone, and may be of any size, yet the mind always involuntarily 
 compares them with the human figure, and measures the building by 
 them. It is recorded of Bernini, that when he had fixed the chair of St. 
 
SAINT Peter's. 
 
 375 
 
 Peter at the extremity of the church, he applied to Andrea Sacchi to 
 go with him, and to give him his opinion of the work. The painter 
 at first would not go, hut being very much pressed by Bernini, without 
 changing his cap or slippers, got into a coach and accompanied him. 
 No entreaties could persuade him to advance a step beyond the door of 
 the church. There he fixed himself, to examine the effect of the work, 
 and after a few minutes consideration, pronounced the giant figures which 
 support the seat, too low by a palm. The Italians have proceeded on a 
 principle, which I have sometimes heard contended for in England, of 
 exaggerating the details, in order to give them consequence. But in all 
 the fine arts, nothing has a worse effect, or has spoiled more beauties, 
 than this desire to give great consequence to the subordinate parts. If 
 these are inaccessible, and can only be seen from a distance, the mi- 
 nuter details may be omitted, or rudely marked : all that is required, 
 is to give the notion that the finishing is there, in order that the part may 
 not look naked and neglected, or rather to render it impossible to deter- 
 mine that it is not there. If they can be approached, be content to 
 mark them so that they can be seen well at a proper distance. If you 
 execute them with reference to their appearance at a point that is too 
 far off, they may look well there indeed, but everywhere else they will 
 appear extravagant and distorted ; whereas, if not exaggerated, they no- 
 where look ill ; and looking well in their proper point of view, the ima- 
 gination easily gives them credit for their excellence, when seen from any 
 other. It is not the business of the artist to expose every beauty from 
 every part, but to set the imagination in the right road, and above all, 
 not to lead it to any thing monstrous or extravagant ; and this will 
 infallibly be the consequence of overcharging any part ; for when once 
 the disproportion is observed, it recurs and offends the mind of the 
 spectator even when surveying the object from that point which repre- 
 sents it most favourably. Suppose you were to employ an artist to make 
 a drawing of the interior of St. Peter s. It will look better with figures 
 in it. Will you direct the painter to make his figures twice as large as 
 life, and with extravagant noses and chins ? We know that this exagge- 
 ration spoils a painting ; but it is equally inimical to architecture ; and 
 yet it is what we frequently see adopted. Besides, the eye measures the 
 building by the number of parts, as much as by their size ; nor in the 
 case of statues is it of consequence that a continued range should be pre- 
 
376 
 
 SAINT Peter's. 
 
 sented to us ; we make a ready allowance for the spaces between, mea- 
 suring them by the statues themselves. But it will be asked, Are statues 
 never, then, to be larger than life ? Yes, to give the appearance of 
 strength, of dignity, of power, it is necessary to make them so ; but in 
 that case the rule is very easy. Do you wish when the spectator is near 
 them, that they should appear larger than the human form ? If that is 
 the case, make them so, but not otherwise. Even for the sake of exhi- 
 biting forms and expression, the sculptor may wish to give his subjects 
 additional size, and the plea is unobjectionable ; but still, without taking 
 distance into the account ; whatever may be done to obviate the indistinct- 
 ness produced by distance, has the effect of diminishing the apparent 
 distance of the object, and consequently its size, and the size of the 
 place it is in : make them all really smaller, and the effect remains the 
 same. This rule leaves nothing for the enlargement of the sculpture in 
 proportion to the size of the building, and some allowance there certainly 
 ought to be. For instance : to take a very clear example, if any build- 
 ing should ever be erected (a monstrous edifice) whose frieze is 12 feet 
 high, there can be no doubt that any figures by which it is ornamented 
 must be nearly of the same height ; they so evidently belong to archi- 
 tecture, that they form no scale by which to measure the height of the 
 edifice. In niches too, something of the same sort takes place, though 
 not so absolutely : a marble statue of the size of life looks generally 
 rather small ; I do not know why, but I apprehend that every body per- 
 ceives it to be the case ; and if surrounded by the mouldings and orna- 
 ments of a colossal architecture, the effect will be increased. This 
 appearance should be corrected by additional size, but here I think we 
 should stop. For instance ; under the dome there are four great figures, 
 each about 16 feet high, where the niches are made too large for the ar- 
 chitecture, in order to receive colossal figures, and the figures are made 
 too large for the niches : had these been half the height, they would not 
 have struck the spectator as larger than life ; perhaps they might be 
 made somewhat more than this, but not much ; and the expression does 
 not require any increase of size, for they represent the saints and martyrs 
 of the church, suffering virtue, not triumphant power ; we do not sym- 
 pathize more readily with a giant, than with a man of our own stature, 
 but rather the contrary. The figures on the pediment have a closer con- 
 nexion with the architecture, than those in niches, because the statues are 
 
SAINT Peter's. 
 
 377 
 
 there evidently made for the place, whereas the niches are in some de- 
 gree made for the statues. I believe, of all the Greek statues existing, 
 there is not one whose size is not accounted for on these principles. 
 
 If in niches but little liberty be allowed of enlarging the proportions of 
 the human figure, the license, though still some license must be permit- 
 ted, is yet further diminished in monuments ; but here all the monuments 
 are colossal. That a sculptor, even of the first class, should wish to make 
 his productions of somewhat more than their just consequence, is per- 
 fectly natural, but one would hardly have expected such an error from 
 the architect sculptors of the sixteenth century. 
 
 While I am enumerating the faults of this building, I may as well go 
 on, and conclude my subject ; mentioning the principal of those which 
 have been attributed to it by others, as well as those which offend my 
 own judgment. It has been said to be one of the greatest, that the nave 
 has been lengthened into a Latin cross, instead of a Greek one, as was 
 intended by Michael Angelo. It is difficult to assign precisely to each 
 architect his part in the building, but it is certain, that the original design 
 of Bramante was for a Latin cross. Sangallo and Raphael, who succes- 
 sively followed Bramante, kept, as we have already seen, to this general 
 idea, though each proposed some alterations. Peruzzi reduced it to a 
 Greek cross, and the piers of the dome were carried up, probably to the 
 height of the nave ; one arm at least of the cross was executed, and per- 
 haps a considerable portion of the walls of the rest of the building carried 
 up, before Michael Angelo had any thing to do with it. This great man 
 made some alterations, which I have already explained : under him the 
 plan was that of a Greek cross, consisting of a large dome in the centre, 
 and four equal, square recesses, to three of which a semicircular tribune 
 was added ; and the fourth, or that of the entrance, was consequently 
 shorter than the rest by the radius of the semicircle. For this, my au- 
 thority is Milizia ; for from Bonanni one would rather conceive that all 
 the four arms were precisely similar. If this difference entered into M. 
 Angelo's design, it was well conceived, for the first view of a spacious 
 edifice is that which fixes itself on the mind, and there can be no doubt 
 that the view would be much grander, and more impressive from the en- 
 trance, as thus designed, than from the bottom of one of the semicircles. 
 The more I consider the subject, the more I am dissatisfied with the 
 shape of a Latin cross, as usually managed so as to make a single room. 
 
 3 c 
 
378 
 
 SAINT Peter's. 
 
 If this form be adopted, it ought to be divided into distinct parts, the 
 nave forming one, the dome another, the three other branches, or three 
 tribunes, as they are called in Italy, three others ; these divisions may 
 open into each other, not by doorways, but by arches, occupying nearly all 
 their width, or they may be separated merely by ranges of columns ; but 
 still the separation ought to be distinctly marked ; for there is necessarily 
 a change of design, which otherwise confuses the attention. In a Greek 
 cross the whole may be considered as one room, the four arms being 
 merely so many recesses; but then they should be kept shallow, so as 
 never to present themselves but as mere appendages. The old design 
 of St. Peter's had these recesses too deep ; probably had Michael Angelo 
 had the entire design, he would have omitted altogether the semicircular 
 tribunes ; but he did not like to destroy what had been executed. With 
 all these considerations present to my mind, I confess I cannot wish that 
 the nave were not executed ; it is so beautiful in itself, that some degree 
 of want of harmony with the dome may be forgiven to it. 
 
 It is usually said to have been the boast of Michael Angelo that he 
 would elevate the Pantheon in the air. Whatever honour may attach to 
 this idea, is due to Bramante, since the cupola designed by him was cer- 
 tainly in pendentive, while that of Brunelleschi at Florence, bears per- 
 pendicularly on its foundations. Perhaps to put it upon stilts, would 
 have been a more correct expression, and it is certainly better on the 
 ground. To be convinced of this, it is only necessary to mount into the 
 gallery, and observe how much superior it appears in size and beauty, 
 than when seen from below. 
 
 I must mention among the faults, that while the vault of the nave is 
 very beautifully gilt, the principal order which supports the vault is en- 
 tirely without gilding, a transition which is displeasingly abrupt ; and 
 the roof, and the pilasters and entablature, do not seem to belong to each 
 other. Then the ornaments in and about the arches are gilt, and the 
 plain surfaces of the spandrils. This is very bad, because it separates 
 the work into different parts, which no longer appear firmly knit toge- 
 ther into one solid body, but as if you could take out the arches and leave 
 the main piers and pilasters standing. The side aisles do not form one 
 continued corridor, but are divided into a series of little rooms, by co- 
 lumns and piers supporting arches, the latter going up into the circular 
 pediments, which appear to be supported by the order : but I will not 
 
SAINT Peter's. 
 
 379 
 
 detain you about these side aisles, because the whole arrangement is en- 
 tirely bad : the niches squeezed in between the pilasters in the principal 
 nave are also to be considered as defects. 
 
 In spite of all these faults, the interior is universally admired. Horace 
 Walpole says that " one must have taste to be sensible of the beauties of 
 Grecian architecture, one only wants passions to feel the Gothic. In St. 
 Peter's one is convinced that it was built by great princes. In Westmin- 
 ster Abbey one thinks not of the builder ; the religion of the place makes 
 the first impression." He has here, I am persuaded, confounded the effect 
 of his own early associations, with that produced by the architecture ; and 
 he is unjust with respect to St. Peter's, since his observation would im- 
 ply that it had no other merit than mere size and splendour. The pyra- 
 mids must have been built by great princes, yet who thinks them beauti- 
 ful ? I must however, according to my custom, endeavour to trace the 
 source of this pleasing impression, or at least, to be more correct in my 
 metaphor, point out the little streams which unite to produce it. 
 
 First, the size. Nothing of sublime or beautiful is found in a model 
 of Mont Blanc, or the J ung Frau, considered in itself. It could inter- 
 est us only by calling to mind the forms and appearances of those large 
 masses ; but when we see the objects themselves, the mind must be in- 
 sensible indeed, which does not feel the impression. Such a feeling may 
 doubtless be heightened by various poetical associations ; but unless 
 there were a strong native impression, such associations would never 
 have been attached to lofty mountains. Great size alone then is capable 
 of producing admiration ; and as our estimate of size is comparative, 
 such a building as St. Peter's is to other churches, what Mont Blanc is 
 to other hills. This effect of size to produce the sublime is probably by its 
 exciting ideas of power, and in this instance the effect is much enhanced 
 by the richness and splendour of the decoration. It is true, that when the 
 parts are considered separately, there are some deficiencies ; there is, for 
 instance, a good deal of stucco, which ought to be marble, or at least 
 good stone ; but nothing of this comes into the first glance ; we see a 
 great deal of really rich and beautiful material, and give credit for some- 
 thing more, which is not so distinctly seen. Afterwards, when we ex- 
 amine the whole, we find so much of rich and beautiful in this respect, 
 that we are willing to overlook what is wanting. Another source of plea- 
 sure lies in the simplicity of design. In this respect also I must acknow- 
 
 3 c 2 
 
380 
 
 SAINT Peter's. 
 
 ledge that there are some failures ; but upon the whole the design is 
 easily comprehended, and there are not many unaccountable breaks, nor 
 of much importance. The arrangement of the vaulting of the nave in 
 simple caissoons, with each a rose in the centre, and the judicious distri- 
 bution of the gilding upon it, contribute very much to this excellence ; 
 but do not look along the side aisles, for you will find nothing of it there. 
 To produce the effect of magnificence in architecture, three things seem 
 to be necessary, greatness of dimension, simplicity of design, and rich- 
 ness of decoration ; to satisfy the mind, after examination, three other 
 things are requisite, otherwise there is danger that the observer may be 
 vexed that he has been cheated into admiration for the moment, and dis- 
 gust instead of pleasure will be the permanent result ; correctness of pro- 
 portion, graceful drawing, and delicate execution ; by graceful drawing, 
 I mean that the mouldings and ornaments should be beautiful in them- 
 selves, and well combined. Of these six points, St. Peter's has the first 
 in a high degree, something of the second, and a great deal of the third. 
 The three latter it also possesses, though not in a very remarkable de- 
 gree ; the proportions do not offend, and the drawing and execution are 
 good. 
 
 The most admired piece of sculpture here is the Pieta of Michael An- 
 gelo, the Virgin supporting the body of her dead son, apparently much 
 older than herself. She is stoutly made, and the weight appears nothing 
 to her. The countenance is good, not expressive of deep sorrow, but ra- 
 ther of affection and anxiety, such as a mother might well have, when 
 looking on her sleeping child, and meditating its future fortunes. Mr. 
 Scott says, she is ruminating on the past, and considering whether all that 
 our Saviour had said of himself could be true ; an idea which I think 
 the artist did not intend to suggest. Another celebrated monument is that 
 of Clement XIII. by Canova. Here are only three figures, the pope him- 
 self in the attitude of prayer, which is excellent ; a colossal Religion, where 
 Canova has attempted the sublime, and failed ; and another colossal 
 figure called the Genius of Rome. It is an angel of most exquisite beauty, 
 but appearing to lean so painfully against the edge of the marble, that I 
 never could look at it with pleasure. Can you tell me why in a monu- 
 ment nothing is to be told of a man but that he died ? One would think 
 that in any distinguished character some of those circumstances which 
 rendered his life conspicuous, might be introduced in sculpture, and that 
 
SAINT Peter's. 
 
 381 
 
 which is common to all men, might without any loss be omitted. Into 
 how many absurdities has this custom of telling that a man died, and 
 that somebody grieved for it, betrayed the sculptors ! Angels with lum- 
 bering stone wings, and bodies wholly unsuited to them, and without any 
 apparatus for moving them ; Deaths of mere bones, moving without 
 muscles ; heathen gods and goddesses to help a Christian on his journey 
 to heaven, and extravagant and unintelligible personifications, and alle- 
 gories still more extravagant and unintelligible. Another monument 
 which has been much praised is by Bernini ; above are a pope and two al- 
 legorical figures, made to be forgotten. The admired part arises from a 
 door below, which it was necessary to preserve, and Bernini has sur- 
 rounded it with marble drapery, and made Death supporting the curtain, 
 as if to give entrance to the tomb. The Death wants consequence, and 
 the whole is prettier in description than in reality. 
 
 St. Peter's as you know is ornamented with mosaics, which have the 
 advantage of pictures in durability. The damps will not injure them, 
 and if by chance a candle should fall against them, they do not suffer ; but 
 if you should ask me whether these mosaics are equal to the originals, I 
 must answer in the negative ; and I will add, that the difference is very 
 considerable, even between the best mosaics, and the first-rate paintings 
 from which they were copied ; in pictures of inferior merit of course 
 there is less difference, and I have seen the weaker parts even of a capi- 
 tal painting improved in the copy ; for the natural tendency of every 
 process of the sort, is to reduce all things to a level, bringing down the 
 finest touches, and raising those which are indifferent. These pictures 
 cost from ten to twenty thousand crowns each, and it has been said that 
 for half the money you might have had paintings, either copies or origi- 
 nals, of equal or superior merit, while the interest of the remaining sum 
 would have provided an ample fund for renewing them, and have kept 
 alive the spirit and emulation of artists ; but I confess the mere circum- 
 stance of their durability gives me a pleasing emotion. It is painful to 
 see the most beautiful productions of the fine arts exposed in situations 
 which are preparing their destruction ; and this idea of duration corre- 
 sponds with the character of the immense structure which surrounds you. 
 Added to which, the altar pieces of churches are never in very good 
 lights for the effect of the painting. In the adoption of such a mode of 
 decoration, one would imagine that none but the very first-rate paintings 
 
382 
 
 SAINT PETER S. 
 
 would be chosen ; but you will be surprised to learn that this is by no 
 means the case; several of those at St. Peter's are copied from quite 
 second-rate productions. 
 
 I descended into the vaults, the pavement of which, in part at least, is 
 that of the ancient basilica of Constantine ; it contains some ancient sar- 
 cophagi of saints, emperors, and popes ; and some sculpture, and mosaics, 
 and ancient columns, the plunder as we are told of the Septizonium. No 
 woman is permitted to enter here, except on one particular day in the 
 year, when the men are prohibited. 
 
 The excursion to the top is more interesting than that into the vaults ; 
 but contains still less to write about, unless I were to enter into the parti- 
 culars of the construction, which has already occupied so many writers. 
 The masses are so great, and the roof so extensive, that we seem rather 
 to be in a town founded on a vast rock, than on the top of an edifice. 
 The building is perfect, without this wooden roof, but as vaults covered 
 with stucco are seldom entirely impervious to the weather, it was necessary 
 to erect it. It is slight, and rests entirely upon the vaulting, so that the 
 whole might be blown away, and no mischief done to the edifice. On 
 reading over what I have written, I feel that it is calculated to give a much 
 less favourable impression of this truly magnificent edifice than it really 
 deserves. I go to it again and again, and contemplate it, and enjoy it ; and 
 now I have finished my criticisms, perhaps more than at first. I wish I 
 could enable you to dwell upon its beauties, and feel the same mental sa- 
 tisfaction and delight ; but this seems to be quite beyond my ability. 
 
 Cupidum, pater optirae, vires 
 
 Deficiunt. 
 
383 
 
 LETTER XXVI. 
 
 BASILICAN CHURCHES. 
 
 Rome, March, 1817. 
 
 In following the order of dates, an account of the basilicas and ancient 
 churches of the lower empire, should have preceded my observations on 
 St. Peter's ; for although most of them have been very much altered, 
 yet there are still sufficient remains of the old work to trace the plan 
 and distribution of the parts, and indeed every thing relating to the solid 
 masses of the building; and in one or two, more or less of the original 
 mode of fitting it up. The first of these in size and in reputation, is the 
 Church of St. Paul without the walls, (fuori delle mm a) and it has the 
 advantage of having undergone very little alteration, so that most of the 
 original construction is not only preserved, but is still exposed.* It was 
 founded by Constantine, A. D. 324, but not completed till A. D. 395, 
 under the reign of Honorius. About the year 440, it was restored by 
 Eudoxa, wife of Valentinian III., but one may suppose, that at so early 
 a period it did not want any important repairs. Having afterwards been 
 injured by an earthquake, it was again restored in 795, by St. Leo III. 
 The wall, which at present divides the transept longitudinally, is thought 
 to be part of this restoration. Under Clement VIII. (about 1600), a 
 new ceiling (or roof?) was put to the transept, and in 1725, Benedict XIII. 
 added the portico. 
 
 This church is one of the seven, as the guide books tell you, which 
 are visited to obtain indulgences ; of the four which have the Porta 
 Santa; and of the five patriarchal churches of Rome. The seven 
 churches, which are visited to obtain indulgences are, besides this, St. 
 Peter's in the Vatican, St. John Lateran, Santa Maria Maggiore, Santa 
 Croce in Gerusalemme, San Lorenzo, /wore delle mura, and St. Sebastian. 
 They must all be visited in one day, but I cannot tell you what particular 
 
 * This church has since been destroyed by fire, and the beautiful marble columns de- 
 stroyed; many of them seemed at first little injured, but split afterwards in different places, 
 shewing that the substance had been partially calcined. The granite and porphyry do not 
 •--seeni to have stood the fire better than the marble. 
 
384 
 
 ST. PAUL FUORI DELLE MURA. 
 
 degree or term of indulgence is obtained by the performance of this task. 
 The Porta Santa is a gate opened only in the years of jubilee. The 
 others are at the Lateran, St. Peter's, and Santa Maria Maggiore. The 
 patriarchal churches should by their name be the seat of as many patri- 
 archs ; yet I do not know that Rome ever pretended to have more than 
 one: the others are St. Peter, St. John Lateran, Santa Maria Maggiore, 
 and San Lorenzo. 
 
 On the outside, the Church of St. Paul is a great ugly barn : it would 
 look better if many of the windows of the upper part of the nave, or 
 clerestory, as it is called in Gothic chvirches, were not filled up ; we should 
 then have had one uniform range of openings, but now there is hardly 
 any appearance of regularity or design in any part ; for the lower win- 
 dows are very capriciously disposed. In the upper part of the front is 
 a large cove, ornamented with mosaics, which was frequently the case in 
 these basilican churches, but perhaps it does not date from the erection 
 of the building. The portico is not at all in harmony with the rest of 
 the church, and it is become a useless appendage, since the road now 
 passes by what was the back of the edifice, and you creep in by a narrow 
 winding passage. Internally, the space is divided into two principal 
 parts, the nave and transept ; the apsis being merely a recess in the 
 transept, formed of a portion of a circle less than half. I do not know 
 whether I have not already praised this disposition : it is perhaps the 
 finest of any in point of effect, if well managed ; but this bean ideal in 
 the management must be collected from different examples, there is no 
 one, either at Rome or elsewhere, which will completely satisfy us. Two 
 long colonnades, forming an avenue to the altar, support the nave. This 
 part must not be dark, but should be illuminated by a chastened and 
 sober light. The transept ought to be wide and open, and not very 
 long ; and a large window at each end, might pour the full blaze of light 
 on a magnificent altar of highly enriched architecture, behind which the 
 dark recess of the choir, or apsis, would give increased value to the prin- 
 cipal light. This recess itself must be enriched. The eye will see that 
 it is so, without precisely distinguishing the details, and the imagination 
 is immediately excited to fill it with its own beauties. In all works of 
 the fine arts, the artist who can call in the imagination of the spectator, 
 and direct it in his favour, has accomplished a great object. In smaller 
 churches, a single range of columns on each side, is sufficient ; in larger 
 
SAINT PAUL FUORI DELLE MURA. 
 
 385 
 
 ones two ranges, and double side aisles, enhance the variety and magni- 
 ficence of the scene. At this church of St. Paul, we have such double 
 ranges ; and the whole is on a grand scale, since the nave is 80 feet wide, 
 and the entire width exceeds 200. The columns which divide the side 
 aisles are smaller than those of the nave, but there is the same number of 
 each, i. e. twenty in each row. Twenty-four of the larger ones are of 
 pavonazzo, a very beautiful marble, the ground of which is white, or with 
 a slight tinge of red or buff, and marked with purple veins. They are 
 finely proportioned, and perfectly well wrought, with capitals and bases 
 of white marble. I did not get up to examine the former, but I am told 
 that they are a good deal repaired Avith plaster. These columns are usu- 
 ally said to have been taken from the mausoleum of Hadrian, but I think 
 Hobhouse has pretty clearly shewn, that there never were any columns 
 there ;* but there can be no doubt that they are the spoils of a building 
 of the best ages of architecture ; and perhaps in attributing them to 
 Hadrian, we assign too recent a period. The remaining sixteen are 
 imitations of these, in a stone which is called at Rome marmo greco, and 
 which I suspect to come from Paros, as the grain is very similar to that 
 of the Parian marble ; and in the latter, we may sometimes see vestiges of 
 the faint, indistinct, gray stripes, which form the character of this manno 
 greco: it perhaps contains magnesia, and generally gives a faint unplea- 
 sant smell, when rubbed pretty firmly with the finger. The workmanship 
 of these columns is extremely bad. We might forgive some imperfections 
 in the capitals and bases, but the clumsy and irregular formation of the 
 shaft, quite exceeds all previous calculation ; and it appears, that the 
 workmen of this period could neither make a straight flute, nor an evenly 
 curved surface. The forty smaller columns are without flutes, and are 
 perhaps even worse in point of execution than any of the larger ones. 
 All these columns support arches, and though the philosophy of the art 
 condemns them, the effect has a degree of lightness and elegance which 
 always pleases, and which it is perhaps impossible to obtain in any other 
 way. The wall of the nave, above these arches, is very much too high. 
 Originally, there was a narrow circular-headed window over each of the 
 openings below, a large proportion of which has been filled up. These 
 walls have been painted in distemper, with a sort of architecture, whose 
 divisions do not correspond with those of the building. In the panels 
 
 * Fea, on the contrary, cites Procopius to prove that columns existed there as late as 536. 
 
 3 D 
 
386 
 
 SAINT Peter's in the Vatican. 
 
 thus formed, there were historical paintings, but the subjects are nearly 
 obliterated. The roof is very well constructed, but is not a beautiful 
 object, entirely exposed as it is to the church. It is a defect inherent to 
 this sort of plan, that we cannot consistently make use of a vaulted roof, 
 because the columns below can never seem sufficient to support it. It 
 must therefore be coved, or flat, but the timberwork may be covered 
 with panels, and ornamented with mouldings and gilding ; here all is 
 rude and naked. The pavement is composed of fragments of tombstones, 
 and other slabs of marble, placed without order, occasionally overflowed 
 by the inundations of the Tiber, and generally bearing the marks of such 
 evils. The walls of the aisles are merely whitewashed, every thing 
 breathes poverty and neglect, dirt and decay, yet nobody enters without 
 admiring, without feeling impressed with the magnificence of the design. 
 Nevertheless, the proportions are not good, or at least the size of the 
 columns is not such as to correspond with the dimensions of the church, 
 and to these columns it certainly owes its principal beauty. They 
 divide the width without concealing it, and probably thus increase the 
 apparent magnitude. With a system of square piers and arches, you 
 would see directly across, just as well as at present, but the diagonal 
 views would be lost, and these are perhaps the most pleasing, or at least 
 they are those which most excite the attention ; and they offer also a 
 number of perspectives, instead of confining you to one. The imagina- 
 tion is gratefully exercised in successfully tracing the arrangement of 
 the parts. The motion of the spectator produces a continual change of 
 scene, and this change maintains a continued interest. The transept is 
 divided longitudinally, by a wall with three large openings, which are 
 adorned with columns of porphyry, granite, and marble, enriched with 
 ornaments which do not belong to them. The whole interpolation, for 
 this wall forms no part of the original structure, must be considered as 
 a blemish, as it interrupts the breadth of light, which ought to detach the 
 nave from the altar, and from the dark coloured apsis behind it. 
 
 The ancient Basilica of St. Peter was entirely destroyed to make room 
 for the present majestic edifice ; but the plans and elevations have been 
 handed down to us, and they exhibit a church of the same general ar- 
 rangement as that of St. Paul ; two ranges of columns on each side of 
 the nave, and a transept crossing it at the end, in the centre of which is 
 the apsis, opposite to the central nave. This apsis is a large semicircular 
 
SAINT JOHN LATERAN. 
 
 387 
 
 niche, not a continuation of the architecture of the nave ; and in this sense 
 only I use the word, since, however loosely the term may have been used 
 at different periods, it is now very desirable to have an appropriate name 
 to a very distinct and characteristic feature in the earlier ecclesiastical ar- 
 chitecture. The columns supported architraves, as in Santa Maria Mag- 
 giore, and not arches ; the wall above them was very high, with small 
 windows ; and the timbers of the roof were left naked. The dimen- 
 sions were smaller than in St. Paul's. The elevation probably exhibits 
 the original distribution of the front of these basilicas, but not with all 
 the details. A court entirely surrounded with porticos, precedes the en- 
 trance ; above this, are two ranges, each of three circular-headed windows ; 
 which windows are filled up in a manner somewhat similar to those of 
 Orsan Michele at Florence, and it is not improbable that they may have 
 been among the restorations of Nicholas V., which would be about the 
 same period. Over these ranges, in the pediment, was a small rose, or 
 wheel window. This front was enriched with paintings, or perhaps mo- 
 saics ; but it has not in these representations, that large, advancing, en- 
 riched cove, which is still seen at St. Paul's, and at Santa Maria Maggiore, 
 and which appears at one period to have been very generally adopted. It 
 is possible also that this may have been destroyed by Nicholas V. 
 
 The Church of St. John Lateran is attributed, like that of St. Paul, to 
 Constantine, and the epoch assigned to its foundation is also 324. The 
 original plan was very similar, consisting of a nave resting on four ranges, 
 each of twelve columns, of which the central division was 72* feet wide 
 and 272 long, and beyond this an open transept 70 feet wide, with a semi- 
 circular apsis 50 feet wide, opposite the opening of tlie nave. This per- 
 haps is not the original apsis ; at least the mosaics with which it is adorned, 
 and the circular Gothic corridor behind it, seem to belong to a later pe- 
 riod, and are probably coeval with the court of the convent behind. This 
 church and the adjoining palace were burnt in 1308, and the roofs, the 
 pavimenti sacri preziosi, and every thing combustible was destroyed. 
 Clement V., who was then residing at Avignon, sent considerable sums of 
 
 * I have copied these dimensions from TJggeri, but I suspect tliey are not correct, because in 
 the old church he assigns G8 French feet to the width of the central nave, and 200 to the 
 whole width of the building ; while in the present, which is always understood to stand on 
 the old foundation, reinforced perhaps, but not destroyed, the width of the nave according to 
 the same author, is only 54 such feet, and the whole width 164. The ditFerence, if correct, 
 can only arise from the additional thickness of the present walls and piers. 
 
 3 D 2 
 
388 SAINT JOHN LATERAN. 
 
 money for its restoration ; but it was reserved to Innocent X. to employ 
 Borromini, to transform it into the ugliest, and worst proportioned 
 church, that ever existed. He built up the columns into enormous piers, 
 which are almost perforated by monstrous niches, the receptacle of huge, 
 sprawling statues. There is nothing deserving of praise in the body of 
 the nave, no taste, no feeling ; if the marble columns were, as is said, too 
 much damaged by the fire to be trusted to for the support of the building, 
 it would have been better to have removed them, than to have cramped 
 the plan by accommodating the piers to their disposition ; and as at pre- 
 sent they are totally invisible, the lover of antiquity cannot be gratified 
 by their preservation. 
 
 But if in the nave itself we can find nothing to admire, there is a side 
 chapel of the Corsini family which is highly beautiful. It was designed 
 by Alexander Galileo, a Florentine, who adopted the form of a shortened 
 Greek cross, with a dome in the centre, and ornamented it with rich mar- 
 bles, painting and gilding. The porphyry urn, found in the portico of the 
 Pantheon, forms one of the depositi of this chapel. In the crypt under- 
 neath, is a very admirable Pieia of Bernini. The front of the church is 
 a design of the same Galileo, and in spite of numerous faults, it is cer- 
 tainly impressive. These faults, as I often remind you, are not mere of- 
 fences against rule, or such as contradict some theory ; the rule may be 
 false, and the theory groundless, but they are errors which are against 
 the character and expression of the building, and counteract its magnifi- 
 cence. The northern entrance to the transept is a design of Domenico 
 Fontana. It consists of a double arcade, each of five arches, the lower de- 
 corated with the Doric, the upper with the Corinthian order ; a handsome 
 structure in itself, but it recalls the often repeated question, why employ the 
 appearance of two stories without, when there is only one within ; and 
 when this division gives the effect of small rooms, instead of one spacious 
 hall, and consequently is opposed to magnificence. 
 
 There is a fine court, surrounded with cloisters at St. Paul's, and ano- 
 ther very similar one attached to this church ; openings are formed by 
 little arches supported on doubled shafts ; these shafts are plain, or twisted, 
 or have spiral flutes, or are ornamented with mosaics, with which the 
 whole architecture abounds. In its original state, this court has had con- 
 siderable grace and beauty, and it is well worthy of observation, that simi- 
 larly beautiful effects may be produced by many, may we not say, by al- 
 
SCALA SANTA. 
 
 389 
 
 most every style of architecture ; all becomes gold in the hands of a skil- 
 ful architect, but the finest parts, and most exquisite proportions, turn 
 again to dross, in the hands of ignorance and insensibility. Some large 
 piers have been added here to strengthen the work, and they very much 
 injure its beauty. 
 
 In walking round this cloister, we are shown, 1st, the mouth of a well 
 of white marble, said to have stood on the well at Samaria, where the 
 woman talked with Christ. 2nd, A marble base on which the cock stood, 
 when his crowing awakened the apostle Peter to a sense of his fault. 3rd, 
 The stone (a marble column) split into two on our Saviour's crucifixion. 
 4th, A slab of porphyry, on which the soldiers cast lots for his garments. 
 5th, A slab of granite, fixed at the exact measure of our Saviour's 
 height. (Jth, The ancient marble chair of installation for the popes. It 
 is impossible not to feel indignant at the monstrous fictions encouraged, 
 if not approved, by the Romish church. They deprive us of the power 
 of believing where the circumstances are more probable, and in so doing, 
 they take from us a very great pleasure. I feel it sometimes like a per- 
 sonal injury. 
 
 Near the church of St. John Lateran, is an edifice called Scala Santa, of 
 which the principal object is a staircase, said to be composed of the very 
 steps which our Saviour ascended in the house of Pilate, and which were 
 afterwards sent by St. Helena to Rome. Indulgences are granted to 
 those who ascend them properly on their knees, but the wear of the mar- 
 ble has been so great, that the steps are now covered with wood. On each 
 side is a flight of stairs for the devotees to descend, and for those to go 
 up and down, who prefer the more commodious use of the feet. Here 
 too I saw indulgences declared for those who recite daily, certain prayers 
 to their Guardian Angel ; and a distinction made in matter of indulgences 
 between those who perform their tasks after confession and absolution, 
 and those who execute them only with a firm purpose to confess ;* these 
 notices are the advertisements, the offiches of Rome. The general dispo- 
 sition of the front of this building is not bad, but Fontana never succeeds 
 
 * " Chi visiter^ ciascheduna tlelle sunnominate chiese mentre vi saic\ I'orazione delle qua- 
 rante ore, conl'essato e commuuicato, acquistera Indiilgenza plenaria, e con fermo proposito 
 di confessarsi, acquistera dieci anni ed altrettanti quarantine d' Indulgenza per ciascheduna 
 volta come apparisce, &c." 
 
390 
 
 SANTA CROCE IN GERUSALEMME- 
 
 in details. Close by is the Triclinium of Pope St. Leo III. ; a fragment 
 of the ancient palace, but not in its original situation. 
 
 I must not omit to mention among these objects, the Baptistery of Con- 
 stantine. It consists of a small octagonal centre of two orders, crowned 
 with a lantern of the same form ; the surrounding aisle occupies the height 
 of both orders, which are separated merely by an architrave, without any 
 floor. The eight lower columns are of porphyry, some of them very ill 
 worked, and none deserving of much praise ; the eight upper are of white 
 marble. This arrangement is not without beauty, though, take it altoge- 
 ther, I think no one would copy it. There are some side chapels which 
 are not of the date of the building, but the vestibule on the side towards 
 the church is of Constantine's time ; the external doorway to this is en- 
 riched with some very beautiful fragments, which as usual, are not very 
 well disposed. The capitals in particular, are of a very fine and peculiar 
 Composite, bearing strong indications of Greek taste and workmanship ; 
 and they are I think, as beautiful as any Composite capitals in existence, 
 but as different from the usual distribution of that order, as from the Co- 
 rinthian. The entablature does not belong to them. It is hard and dry, 
 but carefully cut, and not much weatherworn. The style seems some- 
 thing like that of the ancient fragments, in the so called temple of 
 Concord. 
 
 The Church of the Holy Cross was built in order to receive the true 
 cross, found by Helena, mother of Constantine, in Jerusalem, together 
 with many other relics, and a quantity of earth from that city ; for which 
 reason it has received the name of Santa Croce in Geriisalemme, as if Je- 
 rusalem itself were brought to Rome, and the church erected in the 
 transported city. It was restored in the eighth century by St. Gregory 
 II., and again in 903 ; but it is said to have been rebuilt from the foun- 
 dations in 1144'. Nevertheless, the plan has been precisely that of one of 
 Constantine's basilicas in miniature, except that the diameter of the apsis 
 is considerably greater than the width of the nave. Its present state 
 dates no farther back than 1744, when some of the columns were built 
 up in piers, in order to support the vaulted roof ; four on each side are 
 still exposed, and these are the only parts of the ancient building now 
 visible. A singular porch is built at the entrance : it is not good as it 
 stands, but some useful hints may be derived from it. 
 
SANTA MARIA DI ARA CGELI. 
 
 391 
 
 The Church of Santa Maria in Trastevere, is said to have been the first 
 dedicated to the Virgin ; and the superstition must have begun early, if it 
 be true that Pope Callistus began this erection in 224 ; but in fact, what 
 he built was an hospital, with perhaps a small chapel attached to it, and 
 not a church. After several alterations, or refabrications, Adrian I., about 
 772, added two navule, by which I suppose the side aisles are meant; but 
 till there were side aisles, columns would not be wanted, and to him there- 
 fore, we may attribute the form and disposition of the church, which is 
 still that of the basilica ; but the transept is narrow. In 1139, Innocent 
 II. is said to have brought it to its present state, but there is no knowing 
 the precise import of these expressions. We are told that the present 
 ceiling was designed by Domenicliino, but I know not on what authority. 
 The painting in the middle is undoubtedly his, but the disposition of the 
 coffers is very intricate, and therefore bad. The portico was added in 
 - 1702. The interest we find in this church is more from the collection of 
 antique fragments which enter into its construction, than from any merit 
 of its own. Noble shafts of granite from different buildings, some of 
 which are adorned with highly enriched, and very beautiful Ionic capitals, 
 separate the nave from the side aisles. Others are less ornamented, but 
 perhaps not less beautiful ; there are three varieties of these capitals, 
 besides some bad imitations of later times ; others again are Corinthian, 
 and some Composite. None perhaps of the very best period of art, 
 but certainly of a time when it had preserved all its splendour and 
 magnificence, if not all its purity. The general fault indeed, is that of 
 too much enrichment. Instead of modillions, fragments of ancient cor- 
 nices are used, and there are other morsels of ornamental sculpture. The 
 altar columns are very small. There are some scraps of friezes and 
 mouldings, of very fine design, though rather of clumsy execution, in the 
 present doorways of this church. Where this is the case, it is perhaps 
 frequently the result of the imitation of more perfect workmanship. 
 
 It is rather doubtful whether the Church of Santa Maria di Ara Coeli 
 stand upon the site of the ancient temple of Jupiter Capitolinus, or whe- 
 ther that edifice occupied the opposite summit of the Capitol, above the 
 Tarpeian rock. I have already mentioned to you the two divaricating 
 flights of steps, which rise nearly from the same point at the foot of the 
 Capitol ; the one leading to the Intermontium, and the other, more lofty, 
 and consisting of a hundred and twenty-four marble steps, said to have 
 
392 
 
 SANTA MARIA DI ARA C(ELr. 
 
 been formed of the materials of the temple of Quirinus, to the church of 
 Ara Coeli. The front is of unornamented brickwork, and seems never to 
 have been finished ; but it offers a fragment of Italian Gothic, perhaps of 
 the date of 1445, when the church and convent were given by Eugenius 
 the Fourth to the Reformati di San Giovanni di Capestrano of the Fran- 
 cescan order. From the style of ornament I should more willingly assign 
 it a later than an earlier period, perhaps 1464, when the church is stated to 
 have been repaired. The body of the building is supposed to have been 
 erected about the sixth century, and from the tenth to the thirteenth, it 
 was called Santa Maria in Campidoglio, but since that, has been named 
 Ara Coeli, from an altar pretended to have been dedicated on this spot by 
 Augustus. It is divided into a nave and two aisles, or as the expression 
 is here, into three naves, by twenty-two marble columns, which have been 
 taken from ancient edifices. They are of different sizes and materials. 
 Some plain, others fluted ; two of them have semicylindrical ribs on the 
 flutes. The capitals are cases of gilt stucco, of a detestable Ionic, laid 
 over the old work. The inequality of the original size was such, that it 
 was impossible to reduce them all to one precise measure, and conse- 
 quently some are made larger than others, but in other respects they 
 are alike. The old workmanship of these capitals was as different as the 
 columns on which they are placed ; nor are the bases less so, some being 
 Corinthian, some Attic, some of an unnamed order; one with an enor- 
 mous projection, the next hardly relieved, and as the columns are of dif- 
 ferent lengths, these are placed on pedestals of different heights, in order 
 to make the total elevation the same in each. These columns support a 
 range of arches which have no correspondence with those of the side aisles 
 behind them. It would be difficult altogether to find a much more ugly 
 church, and the magnificent flight of steps leads only to a small lateral 
 door at the side of the tribune, so that every thing is bad. I long exces- 
 sively to pull down church and convent, examine all the antiquities thus 
 exposed, and then to erect a magnificent temple-formed cathedral, the 
 church of the Roman people ; and by clearing away a few rubbishing 
 buildings, I could make this appear to crown the Corso, and attract the 
 eye from the first entrance into Rome. 
 
 The Church of San Grisogono is another of these basilican churches, 
 supposed to have been erected at the time of St. Sylvester, but more cer- 
 tainly restored by Gregory the Third, about 740. This also has three 
 
QUATTRO SANTI CORONATI. 
 
 393 
 
 naves supported on twenty-two columns of oriental granite, not all alike, 
 yet without any very striking differences. Two of porphyry support the 
 great arch, and four of alabaster adorn the altar ; but all this is nothing at 
 Rome. The granite columns sustain an entablature, and above the enta- 
 blature is a wall, with straight-headed windows, and a flat, panelled and 
 gilt ceiling, the only sort consistent with the arrangement below. 
 
 The Church of the Quattro Santi Coronati, is supposed to be of the 
 fourth century, but rebuilt in the seventh by Honorius the First. One 
 never knows how much is to be understood by this rebuilding, and there 
 is so little difference of style in the early churches, that the architecture 
 furnishes little or no assistance. If indeed each building were a complete 
 creation of the period to which it chiefly belongs, some judgment might 
 be formed, but they are all alike made up of the fragments of better 
 times ; nor will the date of the latest fragment determine that of the mass 
 of building, as it may have been inserted in some of those alterations to 
 which all have been subject. In common with the church of Santa Croce in 
 Gerusalemme, this of the Quattro Coronati has the apsis greater than the 
 width of the nave ; and in this instance it is larger than in the former, oc- 
 cupying nearly the whole width of the church ; there are, I believe, no 
 other examples of such an arrangement. Like St. Agnes, the side aisles 
 are of two stories. Here are granite and marble columns in the court, as 
 well as in the church, but walled up ; and neither inside nor out has it 
 much pretension to beauty ; but the whole mass of building, including the 
 annexed convent, from its situation on the brow of the Ccelian hill, and 
 from its size, forms a fine picturesque object in some points of view, espe- 
 cially on the side towards the Coliseum. Here is a tesselated pavement, 
 with fragments of inscriptions, and vases of granite and porphyry ; but we 
 pass over without notice at Rome, things which would be thought to me- 
 rit whole volumes anywhere else. 
 
 The last of these basilican churches having transepts, or at least a wide 
 open space before the altar, which I shall mention, is that of San Pietro 
 in Vincolis. You know that when St. Leo compared together two chains, 
 with one of which Peter had been bound by Herod at Jerusalem, and 
 with the other in the Mamertine prison at Rome, the links united and 
 formed a single chain ; to preserve which chain, and in commemoration 
 of the prodigy, St. Leo, in 442, built the present church. It has had 
 many alterations and embellishments, but probably retains the original 
 
 3 E 
 
394 
 
 SAN PIETRO IN VINCOLIS. 
 
 form, and the singular Doric columns of marmo greco, which at present 
 sustain the nave. The restorations have been ill managed, the columns 
 support arches, and at some distance is a cornice, which is cut by the 
 windows ; both nave and side aisles are vaulted, the former with an ellip- 
 tical arch. The columns themselves are not handsome, being of a very ill 
 understood Greek Doric ; so that in spite of its ranges of twenty similar 
 columns, and its correct arrangement, no person seems to admire the build- 
 ing. Opposite the side aisles are two smaller semicircular recesses, differ- 
 ing only in size from the apsis. This disposition occurs also in one or 
 two other instances, but I think the square end to the aisles is prefer- 
 able. 
 
 I must not leave San Pietro in Vincolis without mentioning to you the 
 monument of Julius II. and the famous figure of Moses. The architecture 
 of this sepulchre is very bad, and the figure of Julius himself unnaturally 
 and ungracefully twisted. Religion is a beautiful figure, but the attitude 
 is rather awkward, and the opposite figure is also good, though somewhat 
 clumsy in its proportions. These were by Raphael di Monte Lupo. The 
 whole design is attributed to Michael Angelo Buonarotti, but the colos- 
 sal Moses alone was executed by him. He is represented sitting, and 
 seems severely reproving the people for their idolatry. The attitude and 
 expression have too much consequence to possess real dignity ; the whole 
 figure as well as the head expresses a wish to impose, in the French sense 
 of the word ; and the muscles, for a state of bodily rest, appear over- 
 charged. Milizia says, it has the head of a satyr, but if so, it is a satyr of 
 royal breed. He reproaches it with the hairs of a hog, which is not just, 
 for the exuberant beard is of the finest and softest texture. It is a fine, a 
 very fine statue, but it has been praised as a sculpture of the first class, 
 whence its want of simplicity and graceful nature, must for ever exclude 
 it ; but in the subordinate excellences of strong character and expression, 
 and anatomical truth, it will hold a high rank. I now come to those 
 churches, which resembling basilicas in many respects, are without any 
 indication of a transept in their original disposition ; and the two first of 
 these which I shall mention, differ in some respects from all the rest, and 
 are certainly the most interesting monuments of the lower empire, which 
 exist in the neighbourhood of Rome (for they are both out of the city), I 
 mean the churches of Santa Agnese, and San Lorenzo, Juori delle mura. 
 The first of these is supposed to have been built by Constantine. We enter 
 
SANTA AGNESE. 
 
 395 
 
 it by a descending flight of forty-eight steps. Numerous inscriptions are 
 placed in the walls of this staircase. The central part of the church is a 
 parallelogram, surrounded by two stories of columns on three sides, and 
 having an apsis at the extremity, whose height is about equal to the width 
 of the nave, and between this and the roof, is a space about equal in height 
 to one fourth of that width. The ceiling is flat, the disposition and pro- 
 portions are highly beautiful, and so are many of the columns. Some of 
 these are of pavonazzo, two of granite, two of porta santa, that is, of the 
 same marble as that employed in the Porta Santa at St. Peter's. One of 
 them has an ogee introduced on each side of each flute, of which there 
 are twenty, giving a confused appearance of a hundred and forty flutes. 
 The upper columns are of similar materials to those below, and some of 
 the capitals are very Greek in their foliage. One or two are of a reddish 
 marble, not polished, perhaps the rosso antico, which shows its colour 
 very imperfectly in a rough state. 
 
 It has been said that the columns at the end, as well as at the side, 
 and the double stories of aisles, give this church a peculiar resemblance to 
 the ancient basilicas ; yet neither of these circumstances are found in St. 
 Paul's, in the ancient St. Peter's, or in St. John Lateran, all of which, as 
 we are assured, were built precisely upon that model. I suppose never- 
 theless, that the comparison is correct, since it is thus exemplified at 
 Pompei, and Vitruvius indicates two stories on the sides of a basilica, and 
 makes no mention of any thing like a transept, unless the chalcidicum be 
 considered as one. 
 
 At a very little distance from this church is a circular building, which 
 has had the name of a Temple of Bacchus, on the very equivocal evidence 
 of a sarcophagus of porphyry sculptured with the vine, now removed to 
 the Vatican, and of some mosaics on the w^alls, relating also to the vintage. 
 Other writers maintain that it was a baptistery erected by Constantino 
 for the baptism of his sister and daughter, who are said also to have been 
 buried here. The account is not improbable, as we have many instances 
 of ancient baptisteries of this form, but some uncertainty seems to be 
 thrown upon it, by its occupying a distinguished and symmetrical posi- 
 tion, in a large oblong area, circular at one end, or perhaps at both, which 
 has been called a Hippodrome, and which does not seem exactly suitable 
 for a mere court to this building. All the external ornaments have disap- 
 peared ; internally, we have a dome resting on twenty-four columns, which 
 
 3 E 2 
 
396 
 
 SAN LORENZO FUORI DELLE MURA. 
 
 are placed in pairs on the radii of the circle, and surrounded by an aisle. 
 Twenty of these columns are of gray granite, and four of red. The capi- 
 tals are Composite, not very good, but evidently, as well as the columns, 
 the spoils of some more ancient building, except one or two, which serve 
 to shew the incompetency of the artists of the time of Constantine, The 
 columns support a clumsy entablature, from which spring the arches ; 
 at a considerable space above these, is the dome. The effect is not good, 
 but I do not think we can conclude any thing from it against this mode 
 of arrangement, though the management of the radiating vaults supported 
 on the columns, and larger externally than towards the centre, will always 
 be a great difficulty. The columns here are too small, and too far apart, 
 and not beautiful in themselves, nor in their bases and capitals. In adopt- 
 ing such a disposition, the detached entablatures are certainly to be re- 
 jected, and the small arches should spring, either from a mere architrave, 
 or immediately from the capitals ; and it is probably better to make the 
 dome spring from the same point without any intervening drum, and to 
 let the arches groin into it. 
 
 The Church of San Lorenzo was originally built by Galla Placidia, but 
 restored from the foundations by Pelagius the Second, before 590, This 
 church, whether of Pelagius or of Galla Placidia, was similar in form to 
 that of St. Agnes, which I have already described to you, but Adrian the 
 First, about 772, stopped up the old doorway, and took down the tribune, 
 to join the old building to a new nave which he erected ; thus completely 
 reversing the church, and placing the altar before the ancient entrance. 
 To this period I believe we are to refer the porch, though that may have 
 been something later, as its frieze, with circles of mosaic work, nearly ac- 
 cords with that of the cloisters of St. John Lateran, and St. Paul ; but 
 the cornice, which consists of only a Welsh ogee, is rather in a singular 
 style ; and the ornaments, composed of bulls' heads and palm trees, though 
 not beautiful, are deeply and cleanly cut. The bases are Corinthian, and 
 all alike. The capitals also are all of the same form, but they are badly 
 worked, while the shafts are well executed. The nave has on each side 
 eleven columns of Egyptian and oriental granite and cipollino, with Ionic 
 capitals, differing in size, drawing, and workmanship. Pliny relates that 
 Saurus and Batrachus, two Spartan architects, were employed by the 
 Romans in the time of Augustus, to erect a temple, and not being per- 
 mitted to inscribe their names on the building, they sculptured a lizard 
 
SANTA MARIA MAGGIORE. 
 
 397 
 
 and a frog (which in Greek are called by the same names as these archi- 
 tects) on one of the capitals, to commemorate their exertions. On a capi- 
 tal in this nave, we find these animals engraved. The style of ornament and 
 execution found in them, indicates rather the period of the erection of the 
 porch^ with which it nearly corresponds, than the time alluded to by 
 Pliny; but the coincidence is remarkable. 
 
 The most interesting, as well as the most ancient part, is the present 
 choir, where we have ten ancient columns of considerable size, and very 
 beautiful workmanship ; though the excellence of the proportion is not 
 now easily perceived, as a considerable part of them is buried. Two of 
 these are of Greek marble, with Composite capitals ; the rest are of a 
 white veined marble, with beautiful Corinthian capitals. The latter per- 
 haps formed part of the peristyle of an ancient temple, and are still in 
 their original places. The entablature is made up of fragments, among 
 which we trace pieces of a door jamb with a rich and bold scroll ; but the 
 finest are parts of a small frieze, and they are very beautiful, but there is 
 not the most trifling fragment corresponding with the columns. In the 
 gallery above, there are twelve smaller columns, also antique. 
 
 From this church is an entrance to extensive Catacombs. I did not 
 enter them, for one thing of the sort is enough ; and I had visited those at 
 St. Sebastian. 
 
 We will now proceed to some other churches, which, though likewise 
 called basilicas, have neither originally had a transept, nor yet two sto- 
 ries of side aisles. Of these, by far the largest and most magnificent is 
 that of Santa Maria Maggiore, which indeed in every respect is one of the 
 finest churches in the world, both for the beauty of design, and the per- 
 fection of materials. The outside however, which is a work of the seven- 
 teenth and eighteenth centuries, does not deserve this praise ; and it is 
 remarkable, that in all the experiments the Romans have made in archi- 
 tecture, and the magnificence with which they have executed their un- 
 dertakings, they have never hit even upon a moderately good design for 
 the outside of a church. The front is contemptible ; the back erected 
 under the direction of Rainaldi, has considerable merit, and the character 
 of a public building, but not of a church ; but I am running into descrip- 
 tion before I have given you any sketch of the history of the edifice. 
 
 The Church of Santa Maria Maggiore was erected by Giovanni Patri- 
 zio, and by the Pope St. Liberius, in consequence of a vision, and of a mi- 
 
398 
 
 SANTA MARIA MAGGIORE. 
 
 raculous shower of snow, which fell on the spot on the 5th of August, and 
 marked out precisely the plan of the building. It was dedicated in 352, 
 and rebuilt in 432 by Sixtus the Third. This rehuilt is a vague term, and 
 as the fall of snow is probably, like so many other stories of the Roman 
 church, an invention of the middle ages, it will give us no reason to sup- 
 pose that the original distribution was exactly preserved. In 1189, Nicolas 
 the Fourth erected the tribune, and adorned it with mosaics. The present 
 front was added by Benedict the Fourteenth, in 1741 ; at which time not 
 only all the internal finishings were renewed, but the columns of the nave 
 were repolished, and reduced to one size and length, and uniform Attic 
 bases, and Ionic capitals, were applied to them, Paul the Fifth erected 
 in front, the only remaining column of the great hall of the temple of 
 Peace, and placed upon it the bronze statue of the Virgin. Sixtus the 
 Fifth displaced two of the northern range of columns to make a larger 
 opening to the chapel which he erected ; and Benedict the Fourteenth, in 
 1741, made a similar interruption in the opposite range, to form a corres- 
 pondent opening to the chapel of Paul the Fifth ; the back was erected 
 under Clement the Tenth, about 1670. 
 
 Internally, a single row of marble columns on each side divides the 
 nave from the side aisles. These columns sustain a continued entabla- 
 ture, but they are here, as in so many other places, too small in propor- 
 tion to the rest of the building, and the range of pilasters over them con- 
 sequently too high. The general proportion of the room is perhaps a 
 little too long and a little too low. In a design of this sort there must 
 always be a difficulty in keeping down sufficiently the upper part, for it 
 is in that, that the windows must be placed, and a considerable space must 
 occur between the windows and the columns, in order to admit the roof 
 of the side aisles. Another fault in this church arises from a compara- 
 tively recent alteration, interrupting the perspective of the ranges of co- 
 lumns, by arched openings into the two principal side chapels. The nave 
 is above 50 feet wide, and about 280 feet long, and except for this inter- 
 ruption, exhibits an unbroken range of parts, all uniting into one rich and 
 harmonious design. I hope you always keep in mind in considering 
 these dimensions, that the nave of our St. Paul's is but 41 feet wide. 
 The side aisles are vaulted, which is bad ; a continued vault will always 
 look too heavy for columns ; and besides, it does not correspond with the 
 flat ceihng of the nave. This ceiling is in five panels in width, without 
 
SANTA SABINA. 
 
 399 
 
 irregularities, nobly disposed, and with a richness of carving and gilding 
 well suited to its character. 
 
 The Chapel of the Presepio (that of Sixtus the Fifth) is spotty, from the 
 injudicious disposition of its marbles and gilding. The other chapel is 
 less enriched, and on that account more beautiful ; both are very fine 
 chapels, each of them having the form of a Greek cross, with very short 
 arms. 
 
 One other chapel in this church deserves attention ; it is a simple pa- 
 rallelogram with Corinthian pilasters, the whole face of which is repeated 
 at each angle. The architecture and the painting of the altar-piece seem 
 to come from the school of Michael Angelo Buonarotti. 
 
 At the Church of Santa Sabina on the Aventine, you may see a great 
 stone, which the Devil in a passion flung one day at St. Dominic. You are 
 also shewn a chapel which the saint used as an oratory, and an orange 
 tree planted by him six hundred years ago ; but perhaps you do not care 
 much about these things. The usual entrance is on the side, by a little 
 portico of four columns, two of which are of a very dark granite, or 
 perhaps I should say sienite, for they are chiefly of hornblende, but 
 one has a vein of red, and the other of light-coloured granite. In the 
 capitals here, and in those within the church, the divisions of the leaves 
 are not cut through the marble, but merely worked in relief, the outline 
 of the undivided leaf being preserved. The bases are Corinthian, and as 
 the apophysis of the column is very large, the small mouldings of this 
 order look trifling. Internally, the nave is formed by twenty-four fluted 
 marble columns, with Attic bases, said to have been taken from the tem- 
 ple of Diana, but I much doubt if the capitals of these belong to the 
 building mentioned by Horace. As there was also a temple of Juno in 
 the neighbourhood, the columns of the porch may have belonged to that. 
 The columns of the nave support arches, and there is no entablature; in- 
 deed it is quite clear, that there ought never to be both, although Brunel- 
 leschi was of so different an opinion, that in such cases he made use of 
 two entablatures, one in fragments, and one continued ; and placed his 
 arches between them. In this church also is a beautiful marble door-case, 
 probably belonging to the same edifice as that from which the columns 
 were taken. The ornamented face is not exposed in the church, but in a 
 hall, which forms a communication between it and the cloisters ; and in 
 this hall are small columns with twisted flutes. It is diflficult to say pre- 
 
400 
 
 SAINT CLEMENT. 
 
 cisely when this fancy began ; but in small ornamental objects, it is doubt- 
 less of great antiquity. We may observe in the present day, that an ar- 
 chitect gives himself more licence in small edifices, and in internal deco- 
 rations, than in the more solid construction of large buildings ; and it has 
 always been so. Fancies in ornament please on a small scale, before 
 they are generally adopted on a larger. The cloisters of this church are 
 surrounded by single and coupled columns placed alternately, and sup- 
 porting small arches, as in those of St. Paul and St. John Lateran. I 
 say nothing of the history of this church, for in fact, the accounts we 
 have of the construction of many of these edifices, is even more alike 
 than the buildings, and you can seldom determine the date of any part 
 with confidence. 
 
 Our next object will be St. Clement's, where I shall conduct you into 
 the church by the principal and regular entrance, and through the court, 
 a way at present seldom used. The first object is the Prothyron, 
 where four granite columns support two corbels ; upon these is an arch 
 advancing beyond the columns, and over the arch a pediment. There is 
 a little antiporch of the same nature, at the church of Santa Maria in 
 Cosmedim. It is perhaps of the time of Adrian I., who restored this 
 church in 772, but the original foundation of the building is attributed 
 to the time of Constantine, and in 417 Celestius was condemned in it by 
 the Pope St. Zosimus. You will observe that a large portion of the earlier 
 popes were saints, though in later times this is seldom the case. From 
 the Prothyron we pass into a court 58 feet long, and 48 wide, surrounded 
 by porticos, which are supported on three sides by small granite co- 
 lumns. As a court, the dimensions are small ; yet it seems a separation 
 between the church and the bustle of the world, and is extremely pleas- 
 ing in architectural effect. I do not mean in this church in particular, 
 but as to the general idea. It appears that the width of the court from 
 wall to wall never much exceeded that of the church with its side aisles, 
 and it is probably much better that such should be the case. A small 
 space makes the principal building look large ; besides a small court 
 evidently belongs to the church ; a large one becomes an opening in the 
 city. Leaving this court you enter the church, the nave of which is 
 formed as usual of plundered columns of different materials ; and in the 
 nave is the circuit in marble of the ancient presbytery, with its two 
 pulpits ; and the altar and apsis behind it, just as it was left in the 
 
SAN MARTINO DE' MONTI. 
 
 401 
 
 twelfth century, when Cardinal Anastasius, under Pope Honorius the 
 Second, restored the building, and had the apsis ornamented with 
 mosaics. Somewhat of a similar presbytery, and in particular the two 
 ambones, or pulpits, is also observable in San Lorenzo, but this is the 
 most perfect example. It is said by Uggeri to be suited to the Greek 
 ritual. I do not know why, or what differences the ancient Latin ritual 
 would have required. Some authors I find apply the term ambo not to 
 the pulpit, but to the whole of this enclosure for the presbytery ; I do 
 not pretend to decide which is right. 
 
 You will think these basilican churches will never come to an end, 
 but I must still trespass on your indulgence for a short description of 
 two or three more. In that of San Martino de' Monti, otherwise St. 
 Martin and St, Sylvester, are twenty-four columns of different marbles, 
 which have been all reduced to one size ; but the capitals are not all 
 alike, and some of them are gilt ; they are said to have been brought 
 from Adrian's villa at Tivoli. The part above the order is too high in 
 proportion, as is perhaps the case in all the basilican churches ; but on 
 the whole it is a very handsome church, and well worth visiting for its 
 architecture alone. It is not however by this that strangers are princi- 
 pally attracted ; the walls are adorned by the fresco landscapes of Gaspar 
 Poussin, with figures by Niccol6. They are much damaged, and the 
 colours have probably changed ; perhaps they never were very good, 
 yet they merit an examination. Here is a very handsome modern 
 chapel, with a semidome well ornamented with ribs diverging from the 
 centre. 
 
 Another source of interest at this place is a subterraneum, said to 
 have formed part of the baths of Trajan, afterwards to have been used 
 as a church by St. Sylvester, who was made Pope in 314. It is some- 
 times added, that the baths of Trajan formed an appendage to those of 
 Titus, and that St. Sylvester used this crypt in a time of persecution : 
 two things hard to be believed. But at any rate these high gloomy 
 vaults exhibit some fine picturesque effects. There is no architecture in 
 them, and nothing remarkable in their construction. 
 
 In the Church of Santa Pudenziana the old columns are built up into 
 niches in as ugly a manner as you can conceive ; but it contains the relics 
 of three thousand martyrs, and it is perhaps to correspond with this 
 number, that we see on its walls, for those who visit it, an indulgence of 
 
 3 F 
 
402 SAN GIORGIO IN VELABRO. 
 
 three thousand years, and the remission of a third part of their sins. 
 ** Visitantes hanc ecclesiam, singulis diebus consequantur indulgentiam 
 trium millium annorum et remissionem tertiae partis peccatorum suorum." 
 I ask sometimes how long purgatory lasts, and what people do when 
 they are discharged from it ; hut I cannot get any satisfactory informa- 
 tion. The Church of Santa Prassede (a lady) is more famous for the 
 rosso antico employed in its steps, than for its architectural merit. The 
 effect, such as it was, has been spoilt by the arches thrown across the nave. 
 
 Santa Maria in Domnica has a front erected by Raphael. The design 
 is graceful, and the lower arcade well proportioned, but the upper part 
 is not so well managed. Internally, some small figures on the frieze by 
 Giulio Romano demand as much attention as the eighteen columns of 
 black and green granite, which Manazzale mentions. In front of this 
 church, stands on a pedestal, a marble model of a boat, but its date is 
 rather uncertain. It was placed by Leo X. in its present position. 
 
 In the portico of the Church of San Giorgio in Velabro are four small 
 columns, one of granite, two of marble, and one of cipollino ; the latter 
 alone corresponds with the capitals, which are all alike, of the Ionic 
 order, with larger volutes than is usual in the fragments remaining at 
 Rome, of good general proportions, but not good in the detail. The 
 doorway exhibits nearly the whole width of a frieze, the moulding and 
 upper face of an architrave, and the corona and upper members of a 
 cornice, in a bold and good style, resembling in character the remains we 
 have in the church of Santa Maria in Cosmedim. The inside is not very 
 easy of access, and contains little to reward us when we have procured 
 admission, for mere antique columns, and even handsome ones, are too 
 common in Rome to obtain much attention. The tower, which is an 
 edifice of the eighth century, being erected under Pope Zacchary, 
 stands very insecurely on part of the arch of the goldsmiths, and one 
 angle seems almost to rest on the edge of a single slab of marble. I 
 pointed out this circumstance to a lad who was preparing the church for 
 the festa. " Well, then," said he, " I suppose the first earthquake will 
 throw it down." I replied, that such a result was extremely probable. 
 " Well, it does not signify, I dare say there will be nobody here." 
 
 This tower, though far from beautiful, merits a more particular de- 
 scription, because it is of a style very common in Rome, and its date is 
 well ascertained. The lower part is entirely plain, excepting the small 
 
SAN GIORGIO IN VELABRO. 
 
 403 
 
 moulding which terminates it, and is nearly hid by the body of the church. 
 Above, there are four nearly equal stories, each crowned with a cornice, 
 of which the uppermost is the largest ; the lower of these has three re- 
 cesses on one side only. The next has had three arches on each side, but 
 they are now filled up ; the third has likewise three arches; and these are 
 still open. The upper has also three arches on each side, but these, instead 
 of being separated by square piers, are divided by two columns, each of 
 which supports a corbel immediately under the springing of the arch. 
 The diameter of the column is very much less than the thickness of the 
 wall, perhaps hardly above one third, so that the arches considerably 
 overhang their supports. This fashion seems to have been widely spread, 
 and to have lasted long, for the examples are very numerous at Rome 
 and elsewhere. It would be difficult to determine how long, but I sus- 
 pect some of them are as late as the eleventh century. When it was rare 
 to build any thing of consequence, the desire of distinction did not re- 
 quire the frequent alteration of design, which takes place when more is 
 executed ; and architecture seems to have changed its type but little 
 from the fourth or fifth, to the beginning of the eleventh century. 
 
 " But dinner waits, and we are tired ; 
 Said Gilpin, so am I." 
 
 3 F 2 
 
404 
 
 LETTER XXVII. 
 
 LIVING AT ROME — MODERN CHURCHES. 
 
 Rome, March, 1817. 
 
 I AM going, I flatter myself, to satisfy you to the utmost, by giving the 
 most minute detail of my Roman life. You will find it not so different 
 from the manner of living in London as perhaps you expect ; for in fact, 
 the Romans are very much the same sort of beings as ourselves, and eat 
 and drink, and have the same affections and appetites as the English. I 
 will add, that the national character in both is pride, and not vanity ; 
 that they are rather reserved, and feel more than they shew : added to 
 which, they finish their buildings as we do, and do not leave them half 
 done, as in France, and many parts of Italy ; but then they undertake 
 them on a much more magnificent scale ; and I believe, after all that has 
 been said of the degeneracy of the modern Romans, that if their political 
 institutions were favourable, they would have spirit to undertake, and 
 resolution and perseverance to carry them through the greatest enter- 
 prizes. I will not enter into this subject till I have seen more of them, 
 but relate those things which more nearly concern myself In the first 
 place, my lodgings consist of two good sized rooms, the largest of which 
 is nearly thirty feet long on one side, but is very much out of a square, 
 and as I have already told you, overlooks half Rome. They are both 
 paved with bricks The landlady offered me a mat for the whole room, 
 but I was afraid of the fleas, and contented myself with one or two small 
 pieces to put my feet upon. A small wood fire, which costs about Id. 
 per hour, serves to keep me warm in the mornings and evenings. The sun 
 would perform that office in the middle of the day, but I am then seldom 
 at home. The bed, as usual in Italy, is large. Some boards, about six 
 feet long, or a little more, are laid on two iron stands. On these is 
 placed a great bag filled with the leaves of Indian corn, and over this two 
 thin mattresses ; of course there are no bed-posts, or hangings, or any 
 thing of the sort ; and this is the usual disposition of the beds in Italy, 
 at least of those in common houses, and not intended for shew. The 
 other furniture consists of a large press, which contains my clothes, and 
 
ROMAN LIFE. 
 
 405 
 
 some books ; a writing-desk, with drawers below ; a square table ; a 
 smaller oval one ; two side-tables against the wall ; a straw couch ; one 
 large elbow-chair, and thirteen others. The chimney piece is made out 
 of a piece of Greek marble. For fifteen hundred years the masons of 
 Rome have been using up their old materials, and they are not yet ex- 
 hausted. I apprehend, that during that period, hardly a single piece of 
 new marble has been brought to Rome except for the use of the sculp- 
 tors. 
 
 And now, having given you an exact description of my lodgings, I will 
 proceed to as particular an account of one day's employment, from which 
 you may judge of the rest. I rise about seven, or according to the 
 Roman reckoning at the present moment, at 13 o'clock, at which time my 
 attendant Leopold comes in, and brushes my coat, and blacks my shoes, 
 "all which is done in the room, for he never thinks of going elsewhere to 
 perform these operations ; he also makes the bed. This Leopold pays 
 six crowns per month for his board and lodging in the house, and makes 
 what he can of serving the lodgers, and in the evening attends the lady 
 of the house to pay visits, or go to the theatre, not as a servant, but as 
 a companion. Afterwards he brings me my breakfast of coffee and milk, 
 which I always drink from a tumbler, and while 1 am eating it, he stops 
 to relate to me various stories and opinions. Among other things he 
 prides himself on being a Tuscan, not a Roman, complains of the bad go- 
 vernment of Rome, and says priests are not fit for governors. Then he 
 tells me, that he had been a soldier for some years, but always with some 
 authority, and never as a mere private, that he liked the employment 
 very much, but was obliged to leave it on account of his being exceed- 
 ingly short-sighted. His brother is a parson of some parish, (Parocco) 
 and had been tutor in the family of the queen of Etruria. Leopold com- 
 plains, that in his present employment his short-sightedness is very in- 
 convenient. I asked him why he did not use spectacles ; but he assured 
 me they would make his sight worse. " Why," said he, " a little while 
 ago [ saw a man with spectacles tumble down the steps of the Trinity. 
 What, said I, could your spectacles help you to see no better? 'Oh,' 
 replied the other, ' the spectacles are of no use, I only wear them to be 
 in the fashion ; in England every body wears spectacles ;' but now," 
 adds Leopold, " I see a great many English, and it seems they do not 
 wear spectacles." He then proceeded to tell me, that he thought my 
 
406 
 
 ROMAN LIFE. 
 
 Italian master could not be a good one, because he had spent a great part 
 of his life in the country, and therefore could not naturally speak the 
 language well ; and that he had since been employed in various ways, 
 none of which had succeeded, and that this must have prevented him from 
 studying it ; he would consequently neither be able to chuse the best 
 and most elegant expressions, nor to pronounce correctly. Thus, you 
 see my shoe-black is a man of various accomplishments, and is moreover 
 quite a gentleman ; for though he does not mind what he does within 
 doors, he would not on any account be seen employed in any servile 
 occupation without. Moreover, on the last day of the carnival, he would 
 not by any means go on to the Corso on foot, because it was not genteel. 
 
 After breakfast I usually employ myself a little while at home in draw- 
 ing or reading, and then walk to the Campo Vaccino ; here the foizati, 
 i. e. the criminals condemned to hard labour, are employed in making ex- 
 cavations to expose for examination the antiquities of the place, and in 
 some situations they have reached the old pavement thirty feet below 
 the present surface. I continue my walk along the Via Sacra, and a 
 parcel of children surround me, begging for half a bayoc. A little 
 farther, a grinning little chit, looking quite fat and saucy, comes to tell 
 me he is dying of hunger. However, there is in other cases plenty of 
 the appearance, and I doubt not of the reality of extreme misery. The 
 harvests of wheat and maize, and the vintage, have been very deficient 
 throughout Italy. I then walk into the Coliseum, and while drawing 
 there, a soldier comes to me, a young lad of perhaps sixteen or seventeen 
 years old, and tells me that he is obliged to serve three years ; that he 
 wished to procure a substitute, but was not permitted. Afterwards, he 
 adds, that they are badly off under the pope, as their pay is only 31 
 bayocs per day, and after some farther conversation, concludes with ask- 
 ing me for some money to buy brandy. I reply, that he would be much 
 better without it ; he then asks for something to buy bread, and assures 
 me, that if I would not give him any, he must go to bed supperless. 
 Afterwards, I return to my own dinner at a trattoria; these are not 
 very good in Rome, but a person who is not fastidious may do very 
 well. I begin with maccaroni and powdered cheese. The Italians e&.t 
 this under the name of Parmesan, with their soups, and with vegetables, 
 as well as with maccaroni, and the Romans have a favourite dish called 
 gnocchi, which seems to consist of pieces of batter-pudding sprinkled 
 
CARNIVAL. 
 
 407 
 
 with Parmesan, and eaten with sugar and cinnamon. As in France, they 
 change your plates frequently, but give you only one knife and fork 
 for every thing. On my return, the maid, for there is an old woman in 
 the house, though the man makes the beds and dusts the chambers, 
 wishes me a good evening, and desires to know at what hour she will 
 have supper ; for you know the Italians use the third person, and the 
 she stands for vos signoria, your worship : they consider it very rude to 
 say you to a superior, but I say you to them, for if I were to answer 
 in the same manner, they would think I was laughing at them. By 
 supper the old dame means tea ; and I tell her to bring it at two o'clock, 
 for the evening bell now rings at six. During the tea she usually has 
 something to say to me, as Leopold had in the morning. Sometimes 
 I go into society, or to the theatre, but not often, and now during Lent, 
 all the theatres are shut up : and so ends my day. 
 
 I went on twelfth day to hear a play which was acted by the children 
 of the Orphan School. The subject was the adoration of the wise men, 
 and the wrath of Herod. The stage was so small, that a well grown boy 
 appeared a giant. By whom the subject was reduced to a dramatic form 
 I do not know, but his principal effort, was in the character of two ser- 
 vants, whose wit, or blunders, formed great part of the entertainment of 
 the evening. In the last act we are introduced to where the Saviour lies, 
 not in a common stable or manger, but one resplendent with clouds and 
 glory, and God the Father in the distance. It was really a very pretty 
 scene in itself, however absurd as applied to the subject it pretended to 
 represent. At this point, an Italian priest called out to another who 
 happened to have his hat on, " Capello, signore, capello, signore, signore, 
 vi e il bambino." This notion of finding in the theatre a place of 
 worship, was strangely at variance with all my English notions and 
 feelings. 
 
 I have said nothing about the Carnival, the observance of which is a 
 custom too different from any of ours to be entirely neglected. The 
 whole term lasts six weeks. I do not know if all the period ever used to 
 be filled up with these vagaries, but the time now allowed for the reign 
 of masking and folly is only eight days. These were preceded by a 
 severe edict against carrying any weapon. The punishment for this 
 offence is to be six years in the galleys ; for drawing it, twelve years ; for 
 striking a person, eighteen years ; for wounding him, confinement for 
 
408 
 
 CARNIVAL. 
 
 life ; for killing him, death. Premeditated assassinations are not, and 
 perhaps never have been common at Rome ; but when the common people 
 quarrelled, and got into a passion, they sometimes used to stab each other. 
 They are indebted to the French for the correction of this evil. The 
 carrying the long sharp knives, which used to be the instrument of such 
 assassinations, was declared to be immediate death, and it is said that no 
 less than nineteen persons Avere shot the day after this law was promul- 
 gated ; the following day two more, and afterwards now and then a 
 straggler, but the habit was effectually broken : it seems a terrible remedy, 
 but it was also a terrible disease. Confinement to real hard labour would 
 perhaps have effected the cure, but more slowly, and the Roman police 
 has yet no correct idea of this. The edict above mentioned also enjoined 
 that no person should be masked except from the sounding of the bell of 
 the Capitol, to that of the Ave Maria, that is, from half past one to half 
 past five. There are masked balls on some evenings, about which the 
 edict says nothing, but every body understands that this is permitted. 
 The edict also determines the size of the sugar-plums (which by the by 
 are little pellets of whitening or plaster,) with which persons might be 
 pelted without offence. At about four o'clock, people assemble on the 
 Corso, and the rich parade up and down in their carriages ; as indeed 
 they do throughout the winter, though it does not seem a very pleasant 
 ride. Close against the houses is a line of people sitting or standing, and 
 where the street is wider, a row of chairs, or perhaps two rows of benches 
 supported on scaffolding. Where this is the case, the front of the scaffold 
 is usually adorned with old tapestry, and old tapestry is also hung out of 
 the windows. Next to these is the stream of carriages, going up on one 
 side, and down on the other ; and in the middle a confused mixture of 
 people, passing some one way and some another, interrupted now and 
 then by the horse, or foot soldiers, parading up and down the streets. 
 About a quarter before five, a gun sounds, as a signal for all carriages to 
 go off the Corso, and at five, those which still remain there are turned off 
 by the soldiers into the nearest streets. A rope is then stretched across, 
 at the spot where the Corso opens into the Piazza del Popolo, and the 
 horses are led up close to it. They have bits of tin hanging about them, 
 and balls with pins to knock against their sides, and excite their speed 
 as they go along. It is said that blisters are previously applied, to make 
 the parts more tender. At a quarter past five, the rope is dropt, and 
 
CARNIVAL. 
 
 409 
 
 off they start. The race is merely once along the Corso, and therefore 
 is only an affair of a few minutes on the whole, and for any individual 
 spectator hardly of half a minute. There is no time for betting, and I 
 think this is one reason why the English are so generally dissatisfied with 
 these races. The continued interest of our own races warms up the 
 feelings, and produces a mental excitement, which such contests as these 
 could never reach, either with or without riders, or with bad or good 
 horses. After the race, carriages are again admitted on the Corso, but 
 they soon disperse, and at the Ave Maria all is quiet again. The first 
 day was very dull, with very few masks, and no humour. On the follow- 
 ing days- the scene became more lively, especially in Giovedi Grasso. A 
 great many men had female masks and dresses, and several women were 
 dressed as men. The principal amusement seemed to be in the female 
 masks, mobbing the unmasked gentlemen, and in pelting all their ac- 
 quaintances with the so called sugar-plums. Some seemed to pelt every 
 body, but I believe these were principally English. A party of stu- 
 dents of the Neapolitan academy went about with a drawing-board and 
 crayons, and affected to take portraits ; when you looked at their produc- 
 tion there was an ass's head. Another party, consisting of French stu- 
 dents, personated armed knights on horseback, and performed their 
 gambols very well. After the Ave Maria, the theatres begin. There is 
 plenty of time for every one to change his dress, but a large portion choose 
 to preserve them, though all are obliged to abandon their masks, and the 
 playhouses consequently present a most ridiculous scene. Before the gay 
 time of the Carnival began, we had some very good acting, but during 
 those mad days Pulcinella was pushed into every thing. This Pulcinella 
 talks Neapolitan, and I lost many things which appeared to delight the 
 audience ; but most of the replies which I could comprehend had very 
 little wit, though they excited a great deal of laughter ; the barbarous 
 language and pronunciation were more than half the jest. 
 
 I went one evening to the masked ball or festina, which is given in a 
 theatre not used at present for any other purpose : there were three par- 
 ties of dancers, but the rooms were so crowded, that there was hardly 
 space for them ; a large proportion of the company was without masks : 
 there was not much wit, but a good deal of cheerfulness and good humour. 
 The entertainment was to begin at half an hour, and end at five, i. e. from 
 six o'clock to half past ten ; accordingly before eleven, the attendants 
 
 3 G 
 
410 
 
 CARNIVAL. 
 
 began to put out the candles, and a file of soldiers gradually advancing, 
 swept the place. There is no city where despotic authority assumes so 
 undisguised a form as at Rome ; where power, and not law, is so appa- 
 rently the ruling principle ; but perhaps we might not be the worse for 
 it, if some of our public amusements were limited in as peremptory 
 a manner. The masked ball on Friday night did not begin till after 
 midnight, in order not to disturb the religious observances of the day : the 
 same rule was observed on Sunday, but I did not go to either. On the 
 evening which closed this period of license, we had a new scene. It is 
 the practice here, for the mourners at a funeral to carry lighted wax 
 tapers ; and on this evening, after the races, almost every body carried 
 lighted tapers to celebrate the funeral of the Carnival ; the street was 
 crowded, the windows and balconies were all full of people, and every- 
 where we saw abundance of these candles ; some persons carried them 
 upon sticks, some stuck them upon their hats, others in the noses of 
 their masks, but most were carried in the hand, and many persons had 
 six or eight tapers twisted together to give a stronger light. Part of 
 the amusement consisted in a mutual endeavour to blow out each other's 
 lights ; the whole was very gay and splendid, and indeed the best thing 
 in the carnival ; but it seemed rather premature, as after that there was 
 a masked ball, and after the ball, midnight suppers, where good catholics 
 stuffed themselves as full as possible, to prepare for their long abstinence 
 in Lent. In this year their holy father has spared them the mortifica- 
 tion of abstinence ; and as fish is dear, and the people very poor, he 
 has granted a general dispensation to eat meat, except on Friday and 
 Saturday. 
 
 It is always a difficult thing to hear, or learn, good Italian in Italy, for 
 the provincialisms extend to all ranks, and the inhabitants of one city are 
 continually turning those of another into ridicule. It is true that in 
 many places they speak their own provincial dialect to one another, and 
 the Tuscan or Italian, when they converse with those who are not of the 
 same province. " When these Bolognese chatter to one another," said a 
 Roman gentleman to me at Bologna, " I do not understand a word of 
 what they say." Yet some peculiarities will creep into the conversation, 
 even when they think they are speaking the purest Tuscan. In spite of 
 this, companies of dramatists go about from city to city, through the 
 whole country, representing the same plays, with precisely the same 
 
ROMAN WINTER. 
 
 411 
 
 words in each. It occurred to me, that these actors must thus get rid of 
 all their own provincialisms ; that they must study their language, and 
 would probably understand it ; and moreover would be able to point out 
 the usual defects of each place. I will confess however, that I have 
 heard upon the stage, cielo pronounced as an Englishman would pro- 
 nounce, s/iailo, and occhi with the ch like our c/i in church. This was not 
 favourable to my theory, but it was in the opera, and I thought the co- 
 medians must do better ; and indeed, as far as I can j udge they are much 
 more correct ; I was not therefore deterred from fixing on one who was 
 guilty of no blunders which I was able to detect, who spoke very clearly 
 and distinctly, and whose tones and actions were perfectly natural, 
 though perhaps rather too faintly marked for stage effect ; and I applied 
 to him for some instruction in Italian. He seemed to be quite willing 
 to assist me, but as this was just before the eight days of the carnival, he 
 requested me to postpone the scheme for about ten days, as the company 
 intended to stay the Lent in Rome, when he should have nothing else to 
 do ; however the company changed their mind, and went away imme- 
 diately, and I lost my master. It was quite a disappointment to me, for 
 he seemed very pleasing in his manners, and moreover was a Tuscan, so 
 that I promised myself great advantage from the scheme. On missing 
 him I procured another, with whom I am very well pleased, and of whom 
 you have just heard my attendant's criticism. One of his greatest faults 
 is, that he is much given to flatter his pupils. 
 
 Now the Carnival is over, Rome seems dead. The contrast is very 
 striking, as the change takes place in a single day, and the gaiety 
 does not diminish gradually, as at London, and the English watering 
 places. The weather is delightful, and if the sun is rather too hot, it is 
 easy at present to find shade ; and while sitting to draw under the shelter 
 of some venerable monument of antiquity, contemplating the clear blue 
 sky, and some richly tinted ruin, while a mild and gentle breeze wafts 
 perfumes from the beds of violets around, I seem to be as near an earthly 
 paradise as imagination can conceive. I wish I could bring you here just 
 for a moment, and show you what Rome is, and make you feel a Roman 
 winter ; yet I am told they are not always so fine, but that they usually 
 have two months of continued wet. What astonishes me is to see the 
 trees without leaves during all this warm weather ; the vegetation even 
 
 3 G 2 
 
412 
 
 ROMAN CHURCHES. 
 
 now, is not much more forward than in a favourable season in England, 
 but it is advancing with great rapidity. 
 
 I must however turn away from all this trifling, to my more serious 
 object of pursuit, and having given you an account of St. Peter's, and a 
 sketch of the principal ancient churches of this city, I shall now survey 
 some of the modern ones. 
 
 The most common arrangement of these is that of a nave with three 
 arches on each side, opening into chapels ; or in the more magnificent 
 ones, with side aisles and chapels beyond them. In the centre is a dome 
 resting on four piers. There is one arch in the length of each tribune, 
 with the addition of a semicircular end to the choir : sometimes there are 
 four arches, or five, instead of three, in the nave, and sometimes one Or 
 two smaller ones besides the three larger. The order is always Corin- 
 thian, and the nave a continued vault, springing, not from the top of the 
 cornice, but from an Attic, or continued pedestal above it. The windows 
 are generally groined into this vault, but sometimes the pedestal is cut 
 to make room for them, and they are partly in the vault, and partly in 
 the upright, which is displeasing. The principal arches opening into the 
 nave, sometimes reach to the architrave of the principal order, and some- 
 times fall considerably short of it. In the latter case they have a gallery, 
 or a panel, or perhaps something like a window over them, but the ar- 
 rangement is much more beautiful when these arches are carried up to 
 the full height of the opening, and the key-stone seems to contribute to 
 the support of the entablature. This connects them with the principal 
 order, with which otherwise, they have not sufficient union. When the 
 parts are well proportioned, it is impossible to refuse our tribute of ad- 
 miration to these churches ; and if indeed it may be said with truth, that 
 there is not one good front to any church in Rome, yet internally, they 
 surpass, beyond all comparison, those of every other city. To produce 
 the best effect, the pedestal above the cornice ought to be unbroken ; and 
 perhaps a wide plinth, without any mouldings, would be better than a 
 pedestal. It is probable indeed, that the frieze and cornice of the prin- 
 cipal order might be omitted with advantage, but I am only going to 
 theorize so far as to select the best parts of such as really exist, not to 
 wander in the realms of imagination without a guide. The vault should 
 be in coffers, and have the look of a stone vault ; not pretend to be a 
 
KOMAN CHURCHES. 
 
 413 
 
 peep into heaven, which is frequently the idea intended to be conveyed, 
 and a heaven adorned in general with a very whimsical painted architec- 
 ture, such as would not be at all commendable here on earth. The Ita- 
 lian artists have been very fond, in these paintings, of contradicting the 
 architecture, and making their lines appear straight on a curved surface, 
 and representing on the vault of a church a range of upright piers or co- 
 lumns ; such a design is assuredly in bad taste, for the building would be 
 much worse with such an addition ; and in practice it has this further de- 
 fect, that it can only look well from one point, and from every other is 
 more or less distorted. The Jesuit Pozzi was famous for the skill with 
 which he executed these deceptions, and I have already mentioned a pro- 
 duction of his at Siena, which is admirable, as far as the mere accom- 
 plishing a thing apparently very difficult, can deserve admiration. The 
 gilding (and say what you please about simplicity, the advantage of gilding 
 is frequently very great) ought to be principally in the vault. The Attic 
 should have little or none ; it should appear again in the cornice, in the 
 capitals of the pilasters, and in the key-stone of the arches. The impost 
 of the arch should receive a little of it. Thus being gradually lost as it 
 comes downward, it will produce the effect of richness without glare, and 
 without separating the building into distinct and unconnected parts, a 
 fault I have already noticed to you in St. Peter "s. In the disposition of 
 the gilding two faults are always to be avoided, this separation into parts, 
 and the too equal and regular distribution on all the similar members of the 
 architecture. It is surprising how much gilding may be employed without 
 any effect of richness, by this too regular and equal distribution ; and I 
 shall mention to you by and by some churches in Rome, where there is 
 a considerable portion of gilding, but without any effect ; a failure arising 
 entirely from this cause. 
 
 In stating how a building of this sort should be managed, the greatest 
 difficulty is in the manner of introducing the light. Three different me- 
 thods offer themselves to our choice ; the first is to light the nave by one 
 large window at the end. There would then also be a large window at 
 each end of the transept, and the choir would be comparatively dark ; 
 but the altar, if brought forward in front of it, and receiving the light 
 from both transept windows, and from the dome, which would remain 
 with lights round the drum, as at present, would occupy, as it ought to 
 do, by far the most conspicuous and best illuminated point in the church. 
 
414 SANT ANDREA DELLA VALLB. 
 
 If the altar must be kept back towards the end of the choir, there should 
 also be windows in the choir, not visible from the entrance of the build- 
 ing, in order to throw a strong light upon it, and give it its proper con- 
 sequence. In either case I am persuaded the effect internally would be 
 most beautiful, but I should be puzzled to make an equally beautiful 
 outside. In a Greek cross, the whole might be lighted from the central 
 dome, but this would not do in a Latin one. A second plan would be 
 to keep the side aisles very lofty by omitting the frieze, cornice, and pe- 
 destal, of the order, and springing the vault immediately from the archi- 
 trave, and lighting the edifice entirely from the aisles. A degree of 
 solemn gloom would result from the comparative darkness of the upper 
 part, which perhaps would not be inconsistent with a religious edifice. 
 The third plan is to introduce semicircular windows over the order, and 
 to groin them into the vault. The perfect continuity of the design is in 
 some degree injured by this arrangement, yet it cannot be considered as 
 objectionable, if care be taken that these windows do not interrupt the 
 leading lines of the architecture. If the whole curve be divided into five 
 panels, and these windows occupy only the lower, the light would be 
 amply sufficient. 
 
 Having thus endeavoured to give you some idea of the general distri- 
 bution of the parts in the churches of Rome, I shall proceed to par- 
 ticularize a few of the finest examples, beginning with the Church of Sant 
 Andrea della Valle, which I think on the whole deserves the first place. 
 Here the nave has three arches on each side, besides a smaller division 
 towards the dome. This alteration of design is a defect. The piers of 
 the dome ought to be decidedly distinguished from the rest, both by 
 their larger size, and by some contraction of the width of the opening ; 
 but there is no reason to make the adjoining division smaller, or of a dif- 
 ferent character, for it will always connect itself to the eye with the nave, 
 and not with the dome ; and consequently communicate no character of 
 strength and firmness. Perhaps the architect (Olivieri) considered these 
 smaller openings, with the piers on each side of them, as forming each in 
 fact, one great pier ; but if such was his idea, he has entirely counter- 
 acted its effect by making openings in the mass. The order is bold and 
 magnificent ; the vault is nobly divided into three large panels, but un- 
 fortunately, as the ornaments have never been executed, the present ap- 
 pearance is rather bald and unfinished. This vaulting springs upon de- 
 
SANT IGNAZIO. 
 
 415 
 
 tached pedestals, which would be better if continued, and the windows 
 occupy part of the space between them, and also part of the first division 
 of the vault. The transepts have each two small divisions without side 
 aisles, the choir has one small arch on each side, and beyond that a semi- 
 circle. The proportions altogether are very fine, and the effect truly 
 sublime. Yet it is a sublime of a very different character from that of a 
 Gothic cathedral, and I think seldom fully understood by the English. 
 We expect from habitual associations, a different sort of impression, 
 while the Italians, from similar causes, do not readily see or feel the me- 
 rits of the Gothic. All however will admire the beauty of Domenichino's 
 exquisite frescos, which I will not describe to you, for I could not do 
 them justice. 
 
 There is a chapel in this church said to be built after designs left by 
 M. A. Buonarotti, and whose ornaments are copies of some of his most 
 celebrated works. It is oblong on the plan, and covered with a cupola, 
 which this shape of the building renders slightly elliptical. This always 
 appears defective ; it seems too much like a circle badly drawn. Four 
 columns on each of the three sides, make a sort of front to each, with a 
 large semicircular window above one of them. The architecture is much 
 broken, which though not to be admired anywhere, is much more tole- 
 rable in tombs than in large edifices. Before the basement of these fronts 
 are sarcophagi of a bad shape but of a rich material, being of the black 
 and gold marble. The columns are of lumachelli ; the beauty of the de- 
 sign consists in the harmony of all the parts, both as to form and colour 
 (except some ridiculous new moons and flames on the pendentives). 
 
 The Church of St. Ignatius, like so many other churches in Rome, and 
 other parts of Italy, is the result of private magnificence, having been 
 erected at the expense of Cardinal Ludovico Ludovisi, who left a sum of 
 200,000 crowns for its completion. Domenichino made two designs for this 
 edifice, of which Father Grassi, a Jesuit, compounded the one which was 
 executed. Domenichino was so much offended at this, that he refused to 
 have any thing more to do with the building. How much the defects we 
 now see in it are attributable to this procedure, it is impossible to de- 
 cide. The circumstances which displease us are, that the side arches spring 
 from little columns, and that whitewash is mixed with the rich marbles. 
 The vault is smooth, and painted by Pozzi, with an ingenious perspective 
 of bad architecture, and angels hanging about it. The cupola has not 
 
416 
 
 SANT IGNAZIO. 
 
 been executed. The general proportions are good, but the order is by 
 no means equal to that of the Valle ; still it is a noble church. I some- 
 times think that a considerably greater proportion of height to the 
 breadth would be desirable in this arrangement, which additional height 
 ought to be given almost exclusively to the order. This notion may have 
 arisen from the habit of admiring Gothic churches. Yet in the narrow 
 courts of their hypsethral temples, the Greeks seem to have been aware 
 of the great effect produced by a height very considerable in proportion 
 to the breadth. 
 
 The Church of the Jesuits was built from a design of Vignola, and is 
 worthy of his talents. Here the columns are doubled on the piers of the 
 nave, and as in Sant Andrea there are three arches on each side, and then 
 next to the dome, one smaller division without an arch. This interrup- 
 tion of the design disappoints the eye, and it is more objectionable here 
 than in the former instance, because the piers of the centre are of them- 
 selves considerably larger than the others, and it is therefore impossible 
 to consider this division for a moment, as a large perforated pier. The 
 side arches do not occupy the height of the order, but leave space for a 
 gallery between them and the architrave. Above the order is a conti- 
 nued but broken pedestal on a high plinth, and a noble, richly ornament- 
 ed rib ; the whole width of the pier seems to form the solid of the vault- 
 ing. It is a pity that this fine feature should be interrupted to make room 
 for the painting. The upper windows are badly ornamented, but they are 
 rich, and in this part mere richness is of great value. Wherever the eye 
 fixes, the architecture ought to be pure and correct, but the vaulting is 
 seldom examined in detail, or at least the beauty of detail is there of less 
 importance to the general impression produced by the building, than in 
 parts more subject to inspection ; and on the other hand, it is that part 
 where richness of ornament produces the greatest effect in communicating 
 to the building the appearance of magnificence. The chapels of the tran- 
 sept are very splendidly decorated, and on the whole, it is a most noble 
 and magnificent church, and one of those which best satisfies the eye. It 
 neither wants height, nor length, nor breadth ; all is as it should be, and 
 the defects are only in the distribution of the smaller parts. The width 
 of the nave between the pilasters in this church, is about 55 feet, in Sant 
 Tgnaaio, 57; in Sant Andrea, 51. Compare these with our St. Paul's, which 
 is 41, and you will easily understand that the Roman buildings, wider 
 
SANTA AGNESE IN PIAZZA NAVONA. 
 
 417 
 
 and shorter, and more richly decorated, must possess a character quite 
 different from any thing to be seen in England. The Church of the Santi 
 Apostoli is a fine edifice of this sort, with some of the chapels of rich and 
 beautiful marbles well disposed, and in other respects highly decorated, 
 and others of striped stucco ; a contrast not at all pleasing. The parts in 
 elevation, on the sides of the nave, are well proportioned, but the build- 
 ing does not end well, and is perhaps rather too short ; the vaulting 
 springs from a pedestal above the cornice. The lines of the architrave 
 are interrupted to make room for an enormous picture, which represents 
 not the fallen, but the falling angels ; and in order to figure them in a 
 more lively manner, the artist has made use of projecting portions of 
 surface brought over the frame of the picture, on which he has painted 
 parts of the figures, as if they were then actually tumbling into the church. 
 It is rather a misfortune, that so bad an idea should be so well executed. 
 
 To carry you in detail through all the churches in Rome, would only 
 offer a repetition of the same criticisms, without equal beauties to redeem 
 their defects. Passing over therefore, a number of others of somewhat 
 similar arrangement, and which all follow the disposition of the Latin 
 cross, there are some very beautiful ones, in which that of the Greek 
 cross is observed. The best of these, and the master-piece of Rainaldi, is 
 the church of St. Agnes in the Piazza Navona ; and a very delightful 
 little building it is. The four equal arms are all very shallow, occupying 
 four sides of an octagon, and it is an admirable lesson on the advantage 
 of shallow recesses ; although the little niches introduced at the extre- 
 mities of the transept have a bad effect. Such a form might be very well 
 lighted from the dome alone ; but in the present instance this is too high, 
 both for internal and external effect. The front is by Borromini, and 
 though not free from his extravagancies,' and his idly crooked lines, is 
 the finest thing he has done. He had always some feeling among his 
 wildest dreams, and it is this that at one time made him popular, and his 
 example dangerous ; had he not, he would neither have been admired nor 
 imitated. Even in the church of San Carlo alle quattro fontane, where he 
 seems to have given full reins to his imagination, we feel that there is 
 something to be admired, though it is difficult to point out where it is ; 
 for on the inside as well as on the out, he has exerted himself to disappoint 
 in every respect, both the eye and the judgment. His followers lost his 
 beauties and preserved only his absurdities, thinking apparently, that the 
 
418 
 
 SANT ANDREA DEL NOVIZIATO. 
 
 grace which still appeared, was owing to deformity, instead of, as was ac- 
 tually the case, feebly appearing through it. 
 
 Bernini has built the Church of Sant Andrea del Noviziato, on the Qui- 
 rinal, in an elliptical form, to which, I suppose, he was determined by the 
 shape of the ground ; and in interrupting the lines of the entablature for 
 the great altar, and making that opening, and that of the doorway, greater 
 than the rest, he was probably guided by the prejudices of his employers. 
 He has shown great judgment in avoiding anything of a transept, which 
 must probably have given rise to another interruption, by making four 
 chapels on each side, instead of an uneven number. The oval dome has 
 something of a crooked appearance, and the details are not good, yet in 
 spite of its defects, it is internally a beautiful little building. Of the out- 
 side, I will say nothing, for there is nothing good to be said. 
 
 The front of the Church of Santa Maria di Consolazione, is perhaps 
 among the most tolerable of those in Rome, where any considerable en- 
 richment has been attempted ; but there are three little churches or cha- 
 pels in the same neighbourhood, where probably the builders were not 
 rich enough to be absurd. The composition of each presents nearly a 
 square face, ornamented with four Doric pilasters, and crowned with a 
 pediment. The parts are differently disposed in each, but all have a 
 pleasing simplicity of character. 
 
 If 1 mention to you Santa Maria in Campitelli, it is rather because it is 
 praised by others, than in compliance with my own taste. An effect of 
 splendour is obtained by a multiplication of parts, without much de- 
 pendence on each other. It puzzles rather than pleases. 
 
419 
 
 LETTER XXVIIL 
 
 ROME. 
 
 Rome, 1th April, 1817. 
 
 We have had some rain here lately, and a good deal of snow upon the 
 mountains ; for the Apennine summits present a much greater mass of 
 white than they did at the end of January. In the lower country the 
 winter seems to he gone. The Anemones (Anemone liortensis) have been 
 very plentiful and beautiful ; they are now almost over, and the orchideae 
 are beginning to show their flowers. The weather is delightful, the sun, 
 though bright, is not oppressive, and the night wind is no longer cold. 
 The woods of Monte Mario are perfumed with rosemary in full flower ; 
 vegetation is everywhere vigorous and beautiful, and all nature feels the 
 genial influence of the season. A first of April at Rome is all you can 
 imagine of a May day in England. But enough of nature ; I am about to 
 give an account of art ; of pomps, and processions, and ceremonies, where 
 all is artificial. They began the 30th of March, which was Palm Sunday, 
 and I went to the Sistine chapel to see the palm branches distributed. 
 These palm branches look like reeds with the leaves still upon them, all 
 of which, except two or three at the top, are plaited up, so that they are 
 not very unlike slender rods covered with yellow ribbon ; they are said 
 however, to be real palm tree leaves. One of these is given to each of 
 the cardinals, together with a branch of olive. When arrived at the 
 Vatican, the doors of the great hall (the Sala regia) were shut, and a 
 considerable number of people were waiting at the head of the stairs. 
 We understood that no general admission would be given till the pro- 
 cession had passed, i. e. the pope and cardinals had entered the chapel. 
 After a little time, the doors were thrown open and we entered the hall, 
 but a circuit of soldiers placed about the door prohibited our immediate 
 entrance into the Sistine Chapel. One by one we slipt through, the in- 
 tention apparently not being to prevent us entirely from entering, but 
 merely, by retarding our motions, to avoid bustle and confusion. It was 
 however some time before I could work myself up into a good position, 
 
 3 H 2 
 
420 
 
 EASTER CEREMONIES. 
 
 and that moment the pope, and all the cardinals were seated. The lat- 
 ter held in their hands the palm branches, and at the feet of each an at- 
 tendant was seated who held an olive branch. A priest at the altar was 
 saying mass, but the pope seemed quite the object of attention, and al- 
 most of adoration. We might almost at times fancy the music repeating, 
 " We worship thee O Lord, the Pope," so well did the action correspond 
 with such an expression. The ceremonies were not much varied ; they 
 consisted principally in alternately getting up and sitting down, while at 
 each change of position the attendants arranged the robes of their supe- 
 riors. Two of these waited on the pope, and disposed the folds of his 
 garments very carefully every time he moved. Sometimes the cardinals 
 advanced from their seats, and passing through the row of attendants, 
 knelt down to the pope and the altar, laying their palm branches on the 
 ground. During part of the service, the pope wore a mitre, which was 
 put on, and taken off, with great ceremony. On one occasion he rose 
 from his seat, and walked to a cushion placed in front of the high altar, 
 upon a sort of stool. On this he knelt down, and his attendants took off 
 the mitre. The music suddenly ceased, and there was a dead silence, all 
 the cardinals and attendants being at the same time on their knees. The 
 effect of this silent prayer is very impressive. It was a pity the specta- 
 tors could not kneel too, but it was impossible for want of room. The 
 two attendants of his holiness meanwhile spread his robes carefully over 
 the elbows of the cushion, and disposed his train symmetrically, turning 
 out on each side a quantity of the white satin lining ; a sort of parade very 
 injurious to the solemnity of the scene, as it drew down the attention 
 from every sublime sentiment, to a trifling, and even contemptible object. 
 The service in general did not appear very impressive, and there was 
 hardly any music except a monotonous recitative. 
 
 On Monday and Tuesday nothing was done. On Wednesday after- 
 noon there was again service in the Sistine chapel. It began about five 
 o'clock, by candle light, for even at noon day candles are used ; amongst 
 these was a row of fifteen lights, intended to represent the twelve apos- 
 tles, and the three Mary's, and these were extinguished or expired at ir- 
 regular intervals, to show that they did not all abandon our Saviour at 
 once. After fourteen of these were out, the remaining one, which we 
 were told was to represent the Virgin Mary, was taken down, and all the 
 
I 
 
 EASTER CEREMONIES. 
 
 421 
 
 other lights in the room extinguished, leaving only the faint remains of 
 day (it was then near seven o'clock) and in this state we heard a fine piece 
 of music, the effect of which was perhaps enhanced by the gloom. 
 
 On Thursday morning I was at the Vatican about nine o'clock, but was 
 refused admittance because I wore trowsers ; I therefore returned to 
 change my dress, among a great number of my countrymen, who were in 
 the same predicament ; but I returned before mass had begun in the Sis- 
 tine chapel. I did not however attempt to enter, as it would only have 
 been a repetition of what I had seen before. The Paoline chapel was 
 very splendidly illuminated, and after a short time the consecrated wafer 
 was carried in procession, and laid in what is called a sepulchre in that 
 chapel, where a painted body is exposed, intended to represent that of 
 Christ. 
 
 As this room is much smaller than the Sistine chapel, I thought I 
 should have no chance of obtaining admittance, and repaired to the hall 
 where the feet of the thirteen pilgrims were to be washed by the pope. It 
 is a large room, and on the left hand side of it, was a seat a little elevated, 
 on which these men were seated, each dressed in a cloak of white cloth, 
 lined with silk of the same colour, and trowsers also of white cloth. On 
 the right were three or four ranges of seats for the ladies ; in the middle 
 stood the gentlemen, of whom a large number were already collected. A 
 part at the upper end, was railed off for his holiness and the cardinals, 
 with a station for foreign ambassadors ; and there were four boxes, into 
 the first of which the old king of Spain shortly entered. The queen of 
 Etruria took possession of another, accompanied by her son, who has the 
 reputation of being a very amiable and accomplished gentleman ; the 
 third received the duke del Genovese, and the duchess of Chablais ; in 
 the fourth was the prince of Prussia. All these people had been at the 
 Sistine chapel in boxes prepared for them in like manner, but I forgot to 
 mention the circumstance. After the entrance of the pope a short service 
 was chanted. Two cardinals then replaced the mitre on the pope's head, 
 and took off his robes ; two attendants held up his petticoats in front, that 
 he might be able to walk down from his throne, and two cardinals held 
 up his train behind. The upper garments which he had just laid aside 
 were crimson, embroidered with gold, the under ones, which he still 
 wore, were white. Thus accompanied, he descended to the place where 
 the pilgrims were sitting, each of whom bared his right foot, on which in 
 
422 
 
 EASTER CEREMONIES. 
 
 succession, the pope poured a little water, and taking the foot in his 
 hand wiped it with a napkin. What would you think in London, if the 
 Prince regent and lord Castlereagh were to get up a political comedy, 
 and act themselves the principal characters, and each sing his song ? 
 Here religion forms the politics of the place, and the subject is quite a re- 
 ligious comedy, or as Hannah More might call it, a sacred drama. But 
 custom sanctions these usages, and that is now venerable, which if it 
 were to originate in the present day, would be merely ridiculous. I was 
 here one of a party of four Englishmen, all about as tall as myself, but 
 we were overtopped by the whole head by another of our countrymen in 
 the room. I missed the supper, which perhaps you will think no loss ; 
 and after passing some time in St. Peter's, and the galleries of the Vati- 
 can, places which never lose their interest, I retreated to my usual 
 trattoria, but returned in the evening to hear the Misereri, at St. Peter's. 
 It was sung beautifully, but the voices seemed hardly strong enough to 
 fill even the side chapel where it is performed. It may help to give you 
 some idea of the size of St. Peter's, to tell you that several services are 
 sometimes performed at the same time without in the least interfering 
 with each other, and that on entering, and even walking along the nave, 
 you hear nothing of the music of the side chapel, though probably in 
 some parts there are twenty voices at their utmost stretch. I did not 
 mention, that at the conclusion of the music in the Sistine chapel, a great 
 noise and tumult was heard ; the same took place on the present occa- 
 sion, and was intended, as I was told, to represent the confusion that fol- 
 lowed the condemnation of our Saviour. This evening the church was 
 lighted by a single large illuminated cross. The cross itself, though 
 about twenty-six feet high, and covered with three hundred and fourteen 
 lamps, looked rather smaller than I expected, but the unity of light 
 was admirable, and produces an effect truly sublime. Various proces- 
 sions took place round the tomb of St. Peter, and many relics were 
 shown, at which most of the people knelt, but by no means all. On 
 Friday there is no exhibition. Every well-dressed person is in black : 
 the soldiers walk about with their arms reversed : the bells are all silent, 
 they are not even permitted to strike the hour : every body, and every 
 thing is supposed to be in mourning. On Saturday there were ceremo- 
 nies at St. John Lateran. The holy water and oil were just consecrated 
 when I arrived, and after staying a little while in the church, and finding 
 
EASTER CEREMONIES. 
 
 423 
 
 that nothing very interesting was in hand, I repaired to the baptistery of 
 Constantine. Here two Jews were to be baptized ; there are always 
 some converts reserved to make a show on this occasion, and the people 
 of Rome tell you that they change back again on Monday, but I will not 
 vouch for the truth of this piece of scandal. I was close against the ba- 
 lustrade which enclosed the ancient vessel, or rather bath, but the pre- 
 sent vase, and the Jews themselves, and all the attendants, stand within 
 this. The bishop soon arrived, and chanted a service, to consecrate the 
 water, and to do him justice, he has a good voice, and sings very well. 
 In one part of the ceremony he had to dip his hand in the water, and pre- 
 viously to this, another clergyman took off his ring, and kissed it, and 
 when the bishop had finished, and the hand was wiped, the same clergy- 
 man replaced the ring, kissing the hand at the same time. Two vessels 
 of oil were then brought in ; some of that, I believe, which had just been 
 prepared in the church. They were poured out on the water, and the 
 bishop put in his hand, and passed it backwards and forwards, to mix, as I 
 was told, the oil and water together. Do you think the consecration 
 could have rendered this possible ? On this occasion the ring was again 
 taken off, and kissed as before, and some beautiful cakes of coloured 
 soap were brought in to take the oil from the bishop's hand. Mean- 
 while, the first poor Jew was brought forward to be exhibited and bap- 
 tized; and the bishop chanting the service, took up the water in a silver 
 ladle, and poured it upon his head, patting the head at the same time 
 with the ladle, to enable the water to penetrate the thick coat of hair by 
 which it was defended. Two attendants immediately wiped it with a 
 napkin, and a dish was brought which contained a very small vessel of oil, 
 and some wool. The bishop dipped his thumb in the oil, and made with 
 it, the sign of the cross on the forehead of the new convert, which the 
 attendants wiped with the wool. A lighted taper was then given him to 
 hold, and he returned to his post, while a similar operation was per- 
 formed on the other Jew. During these ceremonies an enormous wax 
 candle was employed, about eight feet high, and six inches thick, beauti- 
 fully painted, and five rings of metal attached to it by means of as many 
 little points which project from the circumference ; they are disposed in 
 
 o 
 
 this manner : ° ° the central one being gilt, the others silvered. They 
 
 o 
 
 are said to represent the five wounds of our Saviour, the upper one being 
 
424 
 
 EASTER CEREMONIES. 
 
 the effect of the crown of thorns ; but surely, in that case, we ought to 
 reckon six wounds. The bishop was dressed in white satin shoes and 
 trowsers ; above these was a black petticoat, reaching to the ankles ; 
 over these shorter petticoats of white lace, and sometimes a purple robe ; 
 sometimes one of silver tissue, embroidered with gold, and occasionally 
 two or three other articles of dress, which were worn but a short time. 
 He had two mitres, one of gold tissue, and the other of silver tissue 
 embroidered with gold. The converts were dressed in robes of flowered 
 white satin, and each, after the baptism, had a white ribbon bound round 
 his head. On returning to the church, a large number of the attendants 
 threw themselves on their faces on the marble pavement. After this, 
 the bells were suddenly heard ; the soldiers replaced their musquets, 
 and the mourning was over. It appears then, that according to the 
 church of Rome, our Saviour was crucified and laid in the sepulchre on 
 Thursday, and rose again about noon on Saturday. Does this seem to 
 you to agree with the account given by the evangelists ? I afterwards 
 witnessed the form of giving holy orders to various degrees of the 
 priesthood ; but I did not find them at all interesting, and shall there- 
 fore pass them over. 
 
 The last day of these ceremonies is the Easter Sunday. I set off a 
 little after nine, and when I arrived at St. Peter's found a great multitude 
 already assembled. The large central folding doors were thrown open, 
 and the middle part of the nave was protected by two files of soldiers to 
 keep the space clear for the procession. These spread wider apart, 
 and made a large circuit round the high altar. They admitted us to 
 pass without much difficulty, to a space which was railed off round the 
 choir, where the pope was to perform. The canopy soon appeared at 
 the doors of the church, preceded by a long procession of servants of the 
 church, and by the cardinals clad in scarlet and furs. After a little 
 while the pope himself came within view, sitting under the canopy in a 
 raised chair, borne on the shoulders of his attendants, with a white 
 mitre upon his head, and accompanied on each side by a large fan 
 of the feathers of the white peacock. He was slowly carried up the 
 nave, and the chair was set down in the middle of the space behind the 
 high altar. Here the pope got out, and advanced to a cushion near the 
 altar, and prayed in silence, while the attendants, as in the Sistine chapel, 
 spread out his robes. He then retreated to a throne placed on one side 
 
VATICAN PALACE. 
 
 425 
 
 of the choir, and after some ceremonies, and singing and chanting, the 
 cardinals about him changed his dress, and attended him to perform 
 mass at the high altar : he afterwards retreated to another throne, placed 
 directly in front of the altar, or to those who entered the church, it 
 would seem rather behind it ; but the front of the altar is really towards 
 the extremity of the building, and not towards the principal door, as it 
 would be in our churches, and the pope pays his devotions with his face 
 towards the entrance of the church. Catholic altars, at least at Rome, 
 face all ways, and the notion that a church must have its front towards 
 the west, and its altar towards the east, is a northern, or perhaps 
 a Protestant superstition. He sat there for some time while the service 
 was going on, and then again went up to the altar, and knelt down. 
 Every body knelt, and there was a dead silence. These solemn pauses 
 produce the finest effect of any one circumstance in the Roman Catholic 
 service, but the whole is very magnificent, and the majesty of the build- 
 ing, the splendour of the processions, the richness of the dresses, and the 
 great display of gold and pomp, produced as strong an impression as can 
 probably be produced by any thing of the sort. Nevertheless, without 
 all the previous pomp, and grandeur, and bustle, the solemnity which I 
 admire in these pauses would not be so striking. The pope retired 
 again to his upper throne, but I went out and mixed with the crowd in 
 front to see the benediction ; not to hear it, for that is hardly possible. 
 His holiness is elevated on his chair, in a balcony in front of the church, 
 but he hardly comes forward enough to be well seen, and in fact, the 
 great object is the people. The immense place in front of the cathedral 
 is entirely filled by the crowd, except a square space, preserved by the 
 soldiers, which serves rather to show off both them, and the multitude 
 about them, than to occasion any appearance of a deficiency of number. 
 All attention was directed to one point, a great number were upon their 
 knees, and all in the attitude of devotion, or deep interest and expecta- 
 tion. Two pieces of paper were thrown down, (I am sorry I must admit 
 any thing so ridiculous into my picture) containing, as I was told, in- 
 dulgences signed by the Holy Father himself, for those who could catch 
 them : after this he repeated the blessing and disappeared. Other ser- 
 vices succeeded in the church, but I did not stay long to witness them. 
 
 Perhaps you may incline to make it a question, whether the account 
 of these ceremonies, or my long architectural details, be the most tire- 
 
 3 I 
 
426 
 
 SISTINE CHAPEL. 
 
 some : you may, however, find some relief in the change of subject, and 
 in that hope I shall give you a little sketch of the immense palace of the 
 Vatican, or at least of the Cortile of San Damaso, and of the part contain- 
 ing the museum. The Cortile is surrounded only on three sides by the 
 buildings of the palace. The fourth is inclosed by a plain wall. The 
 lower story is in great measure solid. Then there are two ranges of 
 open arches, and over these one of columns, which are very wide apart. 
 This upper story is not, I apprehend, part of the original design, and it 
 would be better away ; and part of the upper range of arches is filled up 
 in order to protect the frescos of Raphael. This is injurious to the ar- 
 chitecture, yet still we must allow considerable merit to the general com- 
 position and proportions. On one side of this court are the Sala regia, and 
 the two chapels, and from this side you also enter the Sala Borgia, which, 
 with a series of adjoining rooms, contains the paintings returned from 
 Paris.* From the angle we enter the first long gallery of the museum. The 
 two other sides of the court contain the apartments of his holiness. 
 
 After this general view of the disposition of the different parts, we will 
 return to the foot of the grand staircase. An awkward and irregular 
 interval, wider at the beginning than at the further end, existed between 
 the palace and the church. Bernini conceived the idea of erecting here 
 a magnificent staircase, adorned with columns, where the diminution 
 at the further end, by increasing the apparent length, rather enhances the 
 magnificence. It was a noble thought, but while I admire, I should 
 hardly venture to imitate the arrangement. After this we pass into the 
 Sala regia, which gives access to the two chapels, the Sistina and the 
 Paolina. 
 
 The architecture of the Sistine Chapel pleased me better on repeated 
 visits than the first time I saw it : it is a lofty oblong hall, with windows 
 only in the upper part, and a fine coved ceiling. 
 
 The general line of springing of this cove is cut by the windows, but 
 this is not a defect, as the arches of the windows spring in the same line. 
 The architect was Sangallo. The Paolina is said to be the production of 
 the same artist, but it is trumpery. Both these halls are so much more 
 celebrated for the paintings they contain, than for their architecture, 
 that I cannot refrain from mentioning them. I do not doubt the wonder- 
 
 * In 1826 these were chiefly filled with fragments of architecture and sculpture ; the paint- 
 ings having been removed into some apartments in the upper story. 
 
SISTINE CHAPEL. 
 
 427 
 
 ful talents of Michael Angelo, or the sincerity of the praises which have 
 been heaped upon him, but I confess I have not learned to like him in 
 any of his three attributes. He seems to me always to have sacrificed 
 taste to knowledge. I can admire his works, but I cannot be pleased 
 with them. In the celebrated Last Judgment there is not a beautiful 
 figure, a graceful attitude, or a pleasing expression. Strong expression 
 there is ; great knowledge of anatomy I am willing to believe, though it 
 seems a defect in judgment to mark every thing too strongly ; and it is a 
 remarkable circumstance that this should be the characteristic of the an- 
 cient Etruscan artists as well as of the modern school of Tuscany ; great 
 variety both of attitude and feature. His greatest admirers do not claim 
 for him any great excellence in colouring ; and in the present instance, 
 the smoke of lamps and candles has probably made it more dingy than it 
 otherwise would have been. This painting occupies the end of the 
 room. The ceiling is in several parts also by Michael Angelo Buonarroti. 
 The Almighty is here introduced, as he so frequently is in Italy ; but in- 
 stead of giving us tlie highest possible idea of power and energy, the ob- 
 ject seems to have been to represent a dignified, but feeble old man, 
 whose limbs and garments are supported by his servants. This idea of 
 majesty is that of savages, and half-civilized people, who find it in having 
 nothing to do, carried to such an excess as to render its object unable to 
 do anything. Michael Angelo endeavoured to gain support from the 
 notions of the vulgar, in a case where his genius, and that of every mortal, 
 must necessarily fail. Some of these smaller paintings, I can more readily 
 admire ; and I acknowledge, that several of the figures, seated on the pe- 
 destals which divide the paintings, are very beautiful, but they have 
 nothing to do with the stories of the Old Testament represented in the 
 panels, and it is considerable labour to look at either the one or the 
 other. What is it that is so much admired in this artist ? This is a 
 point on which connoisseurs are by no means agreed. One values him 
 for his anatomical knowledge, and his power in giving character and ex- 
 pression. Another lays the chief stress on a sort of recondite meaning, 
 to be found in his productions, which seems to be viewing them as in- 
 genious riddles. The greater number of course are contented to wonder, 
 they know not why. Some contend for a grandeur of composition in the 
 lines and disposition of the figures. This I confess I do not compre- 
 hend ; yet, while I acknowledge the beauty of certain forms and jjropor- 
 
 3 I 2 
 
I 
 
 428 MUSEUM OF THE VATICAN. 
 
 tions in architecture, I cannot consistently deny that similar merits 
 may exist in painting, though I am unfortunately unable to appreciate 
 them. 
 
 The side walls are decorated with Scripture histories by some of the 
 earlier Italian painters. The best and latest are those of Perugino. 
 Two of the paintings of the Capella Paolina are by Michael Angelo, but 
 they are more smoked, worse lighted, and consequently more invisible 
 than those of the Sistina. 
 
 The first time I visited the Vatican it was in company with Mr. Scott, 
 and after passing the Sala regia, we hurried impatiently along the 
 loggie of Raphael, to what were pointed out to us as the celebrated 
 Camere. On our arrival we were refused admittance. The door at the 
 other end of the suite was open, but that into the loggie permitted 
 strangers only to depart. This arrangement obliged us to make the tour 
 of the museum, a circuit of above half a mile ; and whatever you may 
 think of it, half a mile of the finest productions of sculpture cannot be 
 walked through very quickly. Was it possible to pass the Apollo with- 
 out stopping to look at it ? Or the Laocoon without notice ? Even the 
 inscriptions delayed us ; nor could we help paying some attention to the 
 tomb of Scipio. We peeped into each open doorway, just to see what 
 we had to expect for another and more leisure survey ; and this walk oc- 
 cupied us about an hour and a half, though intending to go with the 
 greatest rapidity from one door of the rooms containing the frescos to 
 the other. 
 
 Before the paintings, we stop at the Arazzi of Raphael ; the subjects of 
 these are, 
 
 1. The Stoning of St. Stephen. 
 
 2. St. Peter curing the cripple, in the porch called Beautiful. 
 
 3. Conversion of St. Paul. 
 
 4. Religion, Justice, and Charity. 
 
 5. Slaughter of the Innocents, No. 1. 
 
 6. Elymas the sorcerer. 
 
 7. Christ in the garden. Noli me tangere. 
 
 8. The committal of the keys to St. Peter. 
 
 9. Slaughter of the Innocents, No. 2. 
 
 10. Ananias. 
 
 11. The Miraculous draught of fishes. 
 
MUSEUM OF THE VATICAN. 
 
 429 
 
 12. St. Paul preaching at Athens. 
 
 13. The Sacrifice at Lystra. 
 
 14. The Ascension. 
 
 15. The Resurrection. 
 
 16. The Supper at Emmaus. 
 
 17. The Presentation in the Temple. 
 
 18. Massacre of the Innocents, No. 3. 
 
 19. Adoration of the Magi, No. 3. 
 
 20. Adoration of the Shepherds. 
 
 21. The coming of the Holy Ghost, 
 (One has been destroyed.) 
 
 22. The Desce;nt into Limbo. 
 
 Of seven of these, viz. of the 2nd, 6th, 8th, 10th, 11th, 12th, and 13th, 
 you know that we have the cartoons in England, and one cartoon is 
 worth all the tapestry. 
 
 We pass from these rooms, four in number, to those called the Camere 
 of Raphael, ornamented with some of his most admired productions. It 
 excites some surprise, to find that so much labour and genius have been 
 lavished on three gloomy, irregular rooms, unconnected with any princi- 
 pal apartment, each lighted indeed by a single window, but that window 
 below, instead of, as ought to be the case, above the principal part of 
 the paintings. The paintings themselves indeed are most admirable ; 
 not so much at first view, as when you attend to them leisurely, and con- 
 sider the action and intention of the several figures ; and the more you 
 study, the more you admire and enjoy. These are not things to stare 
 at, and to leave, satisfied with a passing tribute of admiration. We enter 
 into them, we seem almost in society with the saints and sages repre- 
 sented, and we return to them again and again with delight, as to a fine 
 poem. It is melancholy to see how much they have suffered, not from 
 neglect, but from time, and the decay of the material. The rage for 
 fresco-painting, or rather for admiring it, and regret that it is disused, 
 seems to start up from time to time even in our northern climates. It 
 is therefore necessary to repeat again and again, that even in Italy, fresco- 
 painting rapidly decays, and that in a climate such as ours, the value of 
 its finest productions, if painted on the walls of a room, could hardly, by 
 
430 
 
 MUSEUM OF THE VATICAN. 
 
 any care, be made to last a century. Pieces cut out and hung in frames 
 might last longer. 
 
 The fourth room is larger than the others. It was painted after the 
 death of Raphael, by his scholars, and from his designs. It is remarkable 
 however, that he finished two or three figures in oil, which shine among 
 the rest by the superiority of the material as well as of the drawing ; the 
 remainder being executed in fresco. 
 
 On leaving these chambers, we pass through the famous loggie, where 
 Raphael exhibited the versatility of his mind by the most beautiful 
 coloured ornaments on the architecture, interspersed with little paintings. 
 The designs were his ; the execution was that of his scholars. Their si- 
 tuation was at first an open gallery, but as they were considerably injured 
 by exposure to the weather, it has been enclosed. These productions have 
 suffered, as may be supposed, more than those in the chambers. Just 
 enough remains to give some vague notion of the grace and elegance of 
 the ornament, and to make us regret that we have no more. It is much 
 more practicable no doubt to restore these than the historical painting, 
 but something will be lost in delicacy of curve, and in the harmony of co- 
 louring, even in a case apparently so little difficult. 
 
 In the rooms immediately below those of Raphael, are now placed 
 those first-rate productions of painting, which, having been transported 
 to Paris, are in consequence of the late peace restored to Rome. Instead 
 of giving you any description, or even an account of what they are, 
 (though the Transfiguration is among them) and adding an Oh ! and an 
 Ah ! and a note of admiration to each, I will tell how I proceed in ex- 
 amining pictures ; a method, which if not perfectly scientific, has at 
 least the effect of enhancing both their interest and the amusement derived 
 from them, and by leading the attention to the several particulars, one by 
 one, must, I think, improve the judgment. You know I set out in archi- 
 tecture, with a determination not to be satisfied with seeing and admiring 
 what is beautiful, but to endeavour in each object to trace why it pleases, 
 what are its defects, and how they might be avoided, and a still higher 
 degree of excellence attained. To analyse paintings something in the 
 same way, I consider that a picture may please — 
 
 First, by its design ; that is, when the story is clearly told ; when we 
 readily see what the actors are about, and knowing the story, are enabled 
 
MUSEUM OF THE VATICAN. 
 
 431 
 
 to allot to each figure its rank and personality. Raphael has this talent in 
 a high degree, though by introducing two stories, or two different points 
 of time, he sometimes confuses the subject. There are two stories in his 
 Transfiguration, each of which forms a perfect design by itself, but they 
 are not so satisfactory when we consider them unitedly. It is said that 
 Raphael's figures show not only their actual, but their past positions, 
 the garments, where the figure is in motion, retaining something of their 
 previous set. 
 
 Secondly, by its composition. When the figures and their accessories 
 are so formed, and so disposed, as to form an agreeable whole. 
 
 Thirdly, by its drawing, i. e., the correct imitation of nature. 
 
 Fourthly by its beau ideal. This is different from drawing, because it 
 depends upon the choice of subject. One artist may draw common-place 
 forms, and such as he usually sees, with perfect exactness ; a second may 
 know how to select the most beautiful ; a. third, by a careful examination 
 of what constitutes the excellence of each p-art, and the harmony and 
 perfect correspondence of one part with another, may improve even on 
 the most beautiful existing figures. Nature is as much the guide to this 
 last, as to the two others ; but a finer taste and more perfect knowledge, 
 that indefinable something which we call genius, enables him to see and 
 to correct the defects which exist even in the finest forms. Every part is 
 perfectly natural, and the whole is so too, because it is what Nature al- 
 ways seems to intend to produce in her most perfect works, but at which 
 she never completely arrives. The mere drawing of these three may be 
 equally good, but the third alone possesses the beau ideal. The Belvidere 
 Apollo is an excellent illustration of the beau ideal. Of a thousand men 
 whom you meet in the streets without remarking them as deformed, you 
 will not perhaps find one so defective in some points as the Apollo. 
 Defects which are not noticed in the statue, because it has no motion ; 
 any change of position would expose them : this is defective drawing. 
 Of a thousand times a thousand you will not find one who even approxi- 
 mates to it in beauty. The finest drawing may exist without beau ideal, 
 but every defect in drawing is also a defect in the beau ideal. The artist 
 has fallen short as nature falls short, but he errs more grossly. 
 
 Fifthly, Expression ; both of passion and character ; not in the heads 
 only, but in the whole form, and in the attitudes. 
 
432 
 
 MUSEUM OF THE VATICAN. 
 
 Sixthly, Clair-oscur. When the parts are well relieved by the shades 
 and shadows, and appear free from the canvass. 
 
 Seventhly, Colour. Colouring and composition mutually enhance the 
 other's value. 
 
 This arrangement, though very convenient for the purposes I have 
 mentioned, is perhaps, a little too mechanical. The highest pleasure in 
 viewing pictures arises from the expression of mind ; an expression not 
 confined to any one of these, but influencing each, and all of them. The 
 painter, like the poet, must bear you on his wings at his own will, and 
 you must resign yourself to him, in order to feel and enjoy the utmost 
 pleasure which his productions communicate ; but after you have once 
 experienced this sort of pleasure, it may be both prolonged and enhanced 
 by a careful examination of the elements which produce it. 
 
 After all these preliminaries, we will now enter the museum ; for though 
 I would not, even if I were better able, undertake the task of description, 
 I shall not myself be contented without endeavouring to communicate 
 some impression of my own feelings on viewing it repeatedly. Like 
 Rome itself, after all we have heard of the immense quantity of objects 
 of curiosity, and as much as we are prepared to admire some of the most 
 beautiful of them, we are still lost in astonishment when we are really on 
 the spot, and walk through the extended galleries, or from one magnifi- 
 cent saloon to another, and find all filled with wonders. 
 
 We first enter into a gallery above a thousand feet long, divided into 
 two parts by small contraction. The first of these is occupied by inscrip- 
 tions ; and fragments of architecture and ornament. Among the latter 
 objects, some, which have been brought from Ostia, are of first-rate 
 excellence, and from a certain similarity of style between them and those 
 found in the Forum of Trajan, are perhaps of the design of Apollodorus, 
 and consequently of the time of Trajan. This is rendered more probable 
 by our knowledge, that considerable edifices were erected at Ostia under 
 that emperor. Here also are some curious little fountains, like children's 
 playthings, if they were not of marble ; such as were used to refresh the 
 private apartments of the Romans. In the second part is the Museo 
 Chiaramonte, containing also various fragments, but possessing many fine 
 busts and statues. 
 
 A flight of steps conducts us to the Museo Pio-Clementino, where, in 
 
MUSEUM OF THE VATICAN. 
 
 433 
 
 the first chamber, our attention is attracted by the sarcophagus of C. L. 
 Scipio Barbatus. The spelling and grammar exhibit the ancient lan- 
 guage of Rome, before the cases of the nouns had received a settled form, 
 and the use of the ablative for the nominative and accusative, seems to 
 announce some degree of relation to the modern Italian. A little further 
 are the Torso and the Meleager, and turning to the left we enter a court, 
 in some little cabinets in the angles of which are the Apollo, the Anti- 
 nous, and the Laocoon. 
 
 In the first course that a stranger makes through the Vatican, criti- 
 cism is lost in admiration ; but after repeatedly visiting this collection of 
 rarities, we are naturally desirous to distinguish a little more precisely, 
 the good from the bad ; and the ancient sculpture from the modern re- 
 storations. Just feeling, correct knowledge, and the habit of observa- 
 tion, can alone furnish the means of determining the first question, and 
 here is the best school in the world to obtain these qualifications ; but 
 there are various accidental circumstances with respect to the second, 
 which may greatly assist the judgment of the inexperienced observer. 
 Marble fragments are sometimes restored in plaster ; this is easily de- 
 tected ; but when the restorations are in marble, there is often a difference 
 of quality, which affords a guide almost equally obvious, after a little at- 
 tention to the marbles themselves, and their mode of varying in the size 
 of the grains, in compactness, and in transparency. There are also, fre- 
 quently slight differences of colour, either in the whole mass or in parti- 
 cular parts, the abrupt termination of which marks a modern addition. 
 Ancient statues of all sorts have usually been repaired with the marble 
 of Carrara ; and as the ancient statues of this are comparatively few, they 
 being generally formed out of marble of a larger grain and looser texture, 
 it is not difficult to distinguish the modern parts. Again, when they are 
 restored in marble of the same nature, the substance is often not so 
 perfectly homogeneous, but that the eye can discover minute differences 
 of texture; and if these are continued across a joining, they form a pretty 
 decisive proof that the parts were originally one block. Some indications 
 may be taken from the joinings themselves. A statue is never broken 
 without some damage to the angles of the fracture, and the joining is con- 
 sequently either partially or wholly, wide and unfinished, or filled up with 
 plaster, or with accessory pieces of marble ; if therefore a neat even join- 
 ing appear all the way round, it is a decisive proof that one or both the 
 
 3 K 
 
434 
 
 MUSEUM OF THE VATICAN. 
 
 pieces is modern. Any person who will take the trouble to go thus 
 through the Vatican, will I am persuaded find, before he has completed 
 his task, that he can generally distinguish the restorations, before he is 
 near enough to decide upon the qualities of the marble. Yet he proba- 
 bly would not be able to do this, even in the best casts. One circumstance 
 which will strike him, is that almost every emblem, or design, which de- 
 termines the individuality of the statue, is a modern addition. Conside- 
 rable efforts have at times been made, to repair the ancient figures in such 
 a manner as to render it impossible to separate the new from the old, and 
 Thorwaldson has restored the Egina marbles so perfectly, that I do not 
 believe it possible for the most practised eye to determine, with any cer- 
 tainty, which is which ; but this is a mistaken notion ; it is better, on the 
 contrary, that the difference should be visible, not perhaps at the first 
 glance, but by any person who wishes to inquire into it : the confidence 
 that certain parts are antique, when it is known, as it always must be, 
 that the whole is not so, adds much to the interest of the observer ; and 
 in this way the Elgin marbles ought to be restored. In their present 
 state, the imagination of the artist and skilful amateur readily supplies 
 many deficiences which are necessary to the understanding of the form, 
 attitude, and action of the figure ; but to the rest of the world these 
 noble productions lose much of their value, because they are not well un- 
 derstood ; which they would be if judiciously restored on this principle. 
 
 Connoisseurs find in the statues of the Vatican, a distinction between 
 the Greek and Roman schools of art. I have attempted to follow them, 
 but hitherto without success ; as the best rule I have been able to hit 
 upon is, that those of the Greek school are of Italian, and those of the Ro- 
 man of Parian marble. The heau ideal is another abstruse subject. It 
 is probable that the elasticity of the human skin, after repeated stretch- 
 ings, does not perfectly recover itself, but in youth, as long as the body 
 continues to grow, this is taken up by the increase of size. Afterwards, 
 seams and wrinkles gradually begin to appear. A similar process takes 
 place in the veins, and the protuberance of the lower part of the trunk. 
 Unless therefore we suppose an immortality like that of Swift's Struld- 
 brugs, we must suppose in the gods, the perfect recovery of the parts 
 after action, and consequently they can have no wrinkles ; and no veins, 
 except when they are swelled by strong muscular action. This seems a 
 necessary consequence of their nature, rather than any part of the beau 
 
MUSEUM OF THE VATICAN. 435 
 
 ideal. We might perhaps go a step farther, and conclude, that beings 
 who were nourished with nectar and ambrosia, or with the smell of sacri- 
 fices, could not require very large digestive organs. Again, the strength 
 of gods is not founded on ' cumbrous flesh,' or on ' the brittle strength of 
 bones,' and therefore the expression of muscle and bone is to be kept down ; 
 but as the sculptor has no other way of giving the appearance of force, 
 something of these must be preserved. It is probably not true that great 
 muscular strength is always accompanied by distinctly marked muscles. 
 The fibres may be supposed individually stronger, instead of more nume- 
 rous. Topham, so celebrated for his extraordinary force, is said to have 
 been remarkably round and smooth in his forms. To overcharge the 
 muscles, may not therefore be the best way of expressing strength, and 
 when in action, if the effect be given, the less the appearance of exertion, 
 the more is the idea of supereminent force excited. 
 
 From this court, which I mentioned so long ago that you have perhaps 
 forgotten it, and which, besides the productions above-mentioned, con- 
 tains some beautiful baths of porphyry, granite, and basalt, bas-reliefs, 
 sarcophagi, &c., we pass into the hall of the animals ; these are executed 
 in various marbles, and some of them are of the greatest beauty and truth. 
 In some instances marbles of different colours are employed to indicate 
 the various colours of the animal. The room is about 110 feet long, and 
 30 wide, and seems entirely filled with them. From this we enter a long 
 gallery of statues and busts, of which the extreme length is about 200 
 feet, and the width about 25. On one side of this room is an elegant little 
 cabinet, containing the Venere accoviata, a beautiful fawn of rosso antico, 
 and other things of the same scarce marble, too numerous for me to men- 
 tion, and among these productions of ancient art, four beautiful columns 
 of modern alabaster from Monte Circello, the best parts of which are equal 
 to the oriental. 
 
 Returning into the animal room, we enter from that into the hall of the 
 Muses, and afterwards to the noble Sala Rotonda. In the middle of this 
 is a great basin of porphyry, fourteen feet in diameter, in a single block. 
 Throughout most of the Vatican, the apartments themselves are of little 
 importance ; we visit them for the objects they contain ; but this is a mag- 
 nificent room. The pavement is an ancient mosaic. 
 
 The next in succession is the Sala a croce Greca, whose name indicates 
 its form. In this room are the two great sarcophagi, supposed to have 
 
 3 K 2 
 
436 
 
 MUSEUM OF THE VATICAN. 
 
 contained, one the ashes of Helena, the mother of Constantine, the other 
 those of his sister. As they are now, they have not the appearance of 
 productions of the same age. Perhaps this may arise from modern resto- 
 rations ; but they both agree in this, that they are rather monuments of 
 labour and expense, than of taste and skill. 
 
 A double flight of steps conducts us to a vestibule, whence we enter 
 the beautiful little circular room of the Biga, so denominated from an an- 
 cient two horse car, executed in marble, and adorned with the most deli- 
 cate ornamental sculpture. The whole of one horse and the limbs of the 
 other are modern restorations, but the chariot itself is nearly entire. If 
 an English coachmaker had it, he would certainly think the pole inserted 
 the wrong way. The beautiful sculptures of this room I shall pass over 
 in silence, as I have so many others. 
 
 Returning from the Biga room, we enter a long gallery, corresponding to 
 that by which we entered the museum, but a story higher. This is divided 
 into several parts, the Gallery of miscellaneous objects, the Gallery of can- 
 delabra, containing also a multitude of vases, some finely sculptured, others 
 precious for the elegance of their forms, or the rarity and beauty of the 
 marble of which they are composed. The last part is the geographical 
 gallery, exhibiting a collection of maps painted on the walls ; a fine idea, 
 but one of the few things here, which could be better executed in modern 
 times. After all this we arrive at the chambers hung with the tapestry 
 from Raphael's designs, through which I have already conducted you. 
 
 Of the Library of the Vatican every one has heard, and I believe it is 
 not very difficult to obtain permission to make use of it, but I have 
 hitherto been satisfied with seeing it. The principal room is 198 feet 
 long, and 49 wide, but divided by a range of piers along the middle. The 
 books are in cases entirely close, round the piers, and between the win- 
 dows. These cases are placed on both sides, and are very low in propor- 
 tion to the room, so that they look like chests, which is the name the Ita- 
 lians give to them. The arrangement of the architecture is neither beau- 
 tiful nor suited to its purpose. Beyond this the library extends under the 
 galleries of geography, and of the miscellaneous objects, that is for near a 
 thousand feet, divided into several rooms ; but the books are all closed, and 
 you never feel as if you were in a library. Upwards of six hundred fictile 
 vases are placed on the cabinets, but they are so lost in the space over 
 which they are scattered, that we seem to have seen very few. 
 
MUSEUM OF THE VATICAN. 
 
 437 
 
 1826. 
 
 Since my former visit, a new hall has been added to this museum, 
 which is usually distinguished by the name of Braccio Nuovo. It runs 
 across the long court or garden, surrounded by the suite of apartments 
 above described. The central division is covered by a velum ; that is, by 
 a cupola, the diameter of which is equal to the diagonal of the square on 
 which it rises, and of which consequently the sides are cut away. I do not 
 much admire it, but the panelling is badly managed. The other parts are 
 covered with a continued vault, in which the light is admitted by square 
 holes along the .crown ; this also displeases me. The cornice architravata 
 is likewise a defect. The cornice represents, says Milizia, the edge of the 
 roof, it is therefore absurd to shew it internally. True, echoed the 
 Italian architects, M'e will therefore omit the frieze, and Milizia seems to 
 have admitted the deduction. The parts also, though very beautiful, are 
 too much ornamented. The object of the architect seems to have been a 
 fine hall, ornamented with statues, but in a museum the statues ought to 
 be the principal object, and the architecture subordinate to them. The 
 room of the Biga is not free from this latter imputation. 
 
438 
 
 LETTER XXIX. 
 
 PALACES OF ROME. 
 
 Rome, April, 1817. 
 
 One does not at first do justice to the architecture of the Roman pa- 
 laces. The great size of many of them, and the abundance, and bold pro- 
 jection of the ornaments, produce indeed a general impression of magnifi- 
 cence, but if we can get space enough in front to examine the parts dis- 
 tinctly, we often turn away dissatisfied from the absurdity and dispropor- 
 tion they exhibit. Yet with great faults, we may find amongst them great 
 beauties, which, when habit has enabled us to support their defects, the 
 mind learns to enjoy. Generally speaking, there is great simplicity of 
 design, so much so, that in a large number, the front is not divided into 
 parts, either as a centre and two wings, or in any other way, but presents 
 one simple continued line of surface ; and this I am persuaded is the best 
 plan which can be adopted for large houses in streets. They also exhibit 
 much richness of detail, and you know, simplicity of design and richness 
 of detail, form my receipt for the production of beauty in architecture. It 
 is true that these details are frequently very far from correct in them- 
 selves, and the proportions not always good ; but to an architect, the mo- 
 dern palaces of Rome are invaluable, as a collection of experiments on 
 architectural beauty on a grand scale ; and let me add, in a grand style, for 
 however they may be abused as extravagant, absurd, or preposterous, they 
 at least avoid the greatest fault that a building can have, that of being 
 mean and paltry. The Romans even in these their degenerate days, have 
 adopted a style fit for those who had the world at their command. These 
 palaces are rarely decorated, either with columns or pilasters, and they 
 are better without them ; for these never look well in a building of many 
 stories in height. Ornaments round the windows are never omitted, and 
 never should be omitted, for without them a window is a mere hole in the 
 wall. The Roman architects have more often erred in making these 
 dressings, as they are called, too large than too small, and their details are 
 frequently very bad; yet even in their worst state they contribute greatly 
 to the general beauty of a building, much more so when they are well de- 
 
ROMAN PALACES. 
 
 439 
 
 signed. The stories are generally divided by horizontal bands or mould- 
 ings along the front, and great space is left between the ranges of win- 
 dows. This latter circumstance is of great importance. It gives an air 
 of solidity and magnificence to the front, and suggests the idea of lofty 
 rooms within ; and it is a great point gained, when in addition to the 
 magnificence which is seen, the artist can excite the idea of other magnifi- 
 cence which is not seen. This space is however sometimes broken by a 
 disagreeable mezzanine. The whole is crowned by a large and rich cor- 
 nice. The perfect beau ideal of such an arrangement is not to be found 
 in Rome, although some of its palaces are highly beautiful, but it cannot 
 fail to be excited in the mind of an architect who attentively studies them. 
 The body of the edifice is nothing but a useful dwelling-house, the orna- 
 ments naturally arise out of the construction required for such an object, 
 and the design is capable of any degree of magnificence suited to the rank 
 and consequence of the owner. In short, we find in it everything which 
 can satisfy the eye, the imagination, and the judgment. For a public 
 building it is not so well suited, nor perhaps for the palace of a sovereign, 
 which ought to partake of the character of a public building ; nor should 
 I recommend it for a country villa ; we want there less height, less soli- 
 dity, and more variety of form ; less of the grand, and more of the agree- 
 able ; yet even here, the plain unbroken line is much superior to the un- 
 meaning division into a centre and wings, or into five parts, both of which 
 are so frequently seen in our English dwellings. 
 
 Before I enter into any detail of the private palaces, I must say some- 
 thing about the celebrated Campidoglio. This of course is among the 
 first objects of a stranger at Rome. But after walking along the Corso, 
 and keeping in his eye the confused pile of buildings at the end, which he 
 is told covers part of the Capitoline hill, he is lost among a labyrinth of 
 narrow dirty streets. At length, if he is fortunate enough to take the 
 right direction, he will find himself in a small square at the foot of two 
 lofty flights of steps. The one on the left, which is the longest and steep- 
 est, conducts him to the apparently half-finished front of a Gothic build- 
 ing, the Madonna di Ara Cceli. The right leads to the Intermonzio, and 
 the modern Capitol. At the bottom of this flight are two lions of basalt, 
 of Greek-Egyptian workmanship, which squirt a little stream of water 
 from their mouths, or occasionally on great festivals, of wine. At top, a 
 continued balustrade, which on each side of the step completes the north- 
 
440 CAMPIDOGLIO. 
 
 western side of the place or square, is accompanied by colossal statues of 
 men and horses, and by trophies taken from a ruined building on the Es- 
 quiline, thought to have been the castellum of the Aqua Marcia, and be- 
 lieved to be of the time of Trajan, though the trophies themselves are at- 
 tributed to Marius. I shall not criticise any of these individually, but 
 remark their fine effect altogether, as uniting with the architecture, and 
 announcing the magnificence to be expected in the Capitol itself The 
 admirable equestrian statue of Marcus Aurelius next attracts our atten- 
 tion, and deserves equal praise from its individual merit, and as an orna- 
 ment to the square. The attitude and expression are at once graceful 
 and commanding, and suited to the philosophic and benevolent master of 
 the Roman world. He gives not the least attention to himself or to his 
 horse, but is entirely occupied with his people. 
 
 I have been induced to mention these accessories before the building 
 itself, because they first strike the eye. I will now proceed to the exami- 
 nation of what is perhaps the best architectural work of M. Angelo Buo- 
 narroti. Its merit depends a good deal on the same circumstances as 
 that of St. Mark's Place at Venice, that is, the two side buildings form an 
 avenue conducting to the central one. Its faults are. First, that this central 
 building has not sufficient character. It hardly looks like the principal, 
 and I believe in such cases that a bad display of architecture is better 
 than none at all, because the general effect depends more upon the air of 
 comparative importance, than upon the excellence of the parts. Perhaps 
 also, its destination is not sufficiently important. All the fine arts speak to 
 the imagination, and the true artist uses every means in his power to excite 
 the imagination in his favour ; not from system, but because he feels its im- 
 portance in himself Secondly, The lines of the side buildings diverge, and 
 this makes them appear shorter than they are, when it would be better that 
 they should appear longer, as I have already explained, in the colonnade 
 of St. Peter's. Thirdly, A large ugly window has been inserted in the mid- 
 dle of each side, thereby making it a separate composition ; and there are 
 no positions more certain, than that unity of design is essential to magni- 
 ficence, and that in order to preserve unity of design, the inferior parts 
 should not form independent compositions. This however was not done 
 by M. A. Buonarroti, but by his pupil, Giacomo del Duca. The earliest 
 architects of modern Rome have the merit of preserving unbroken the 
 leading lines of their architecture ; a beauty which seems to have been 
 
CAMPIDOGLIO. 
 
 441 
 
 little attended to by their successors in any country ; but which never- 
 theless, everybody feels, when he brings into comparison, buildings in 
 other respects nearly similar. 
 
 Of the three buildings which form this architectural composition, that 
 on the left hand side of the spectator as he enters, contains the Museum 
 Capitolinum. That on the right is termed the Palace of the Conserva- 
 tori. The front building is the Palace of the solitary senator of Rome. 
 An open portico supported, or appearing to be supported, by small Ionic 
 columns, about half the height of the principal order, extends along the 
 front of each side building. The capitals of these Ionic columns are very 
 singular, and are perhaps the earliest modern examples of such capitals, 
 with the volutes uniformly projecting in the diagonal, instead of being 
 parallel to the face of the building. We have ancient specimens of this 
 kind at Pompei, but it is hardly probable that M. Angelo was acquainted 
 with them. In the museum, you enter from this portico through a small 
 vestibule, into a gallery of the same length, the central part of which is 
 open to a small court, whence it derives its light. This court is or- 
 namented with statues, and amongst them is that of Marforio, the ancient 
 rival of Pasquin, but both have long been silent. Indeed, Misson in his 
 travels in Italy in 1688, speaks of it as a practice which perhaps once ex- 
 isted. " 'Tis very probable," says he, " that it used formerly to be the 
 custom, to affix the pasquinades on the statue of Pasquin, but that way is 
 now laid aside, and all the satirical invectives are still fathered on Pasquin, 
 though they never come near him." 
 
 From this gallery you pass into three rooms in front of the building, 
 the lirst of which contains imitations of Egyptian statues, in perfect pre- 
 servation, found at the Villa Adriana. They are mostly of black marble, 
 and strongly exhibit marks of their Grecian origin ; but there are some 
 of basalt, which have a truer Egyptian character. In the last is the fa- 
 mous sarcophagus, supposed, I know not why, to have contained the bo- 
 dies of Alexander Severus, and his mother Mammaea. The bas-reliefs 
 surrounding it represent the exploits of Achilles, and those of the front, 
 and of one end are good, and in some parts really fine ; the other end is 
 inferior, and the back is miserable. The figures at the top, whoever they 
 may represent, are not well executed. 
 
 In the walls of the staircase are encrusted the fragments of the ancient 
 marble plan of Rome, found in the Temple of Remus. It is a pity that 
 
 3 L 
 
442 
 
 CAMPIDOGLIO. 
 
 they are only fragments, but still it is a very curious monument, if it were 
 only to show how incorrect the Romans were in these things. The date 
 is not I think, determined, but we may suppose that a plan sculptured in 
 marble and preserved in a temple, would have all the accuracy of which 
 the subject was considered to be capable; and it is on a scale which would 
 admit the greatest precision. Yet in buildings with columns, not only 
 are these of unequal sizes, and placed at unequal distances, but even the 
 number of them is disregarded ; thus to mention one instance among 
 many— the temple of Minerva is figured with six columns in front, and 
 eight behind, a circumstance quite incredible. 
 
 Above stairs is a long gallery over that below. This, and five rooms 
 in front, and one behind, are all filled with objects of great beauty or in- 
 terest. One room contains a series of busts of Roman emperors and 
 their wives. I wonder no one of our countrymen has thought of forming 
 an historical series in plaster, of the emperors at least. This collection, 
 added to those at Florence and Naples, would afford the materials, and 
 opportunity also of selecting in a great many instances, the best, among a 
 considerable number. Another room is occupied with busts of poets and 
 philosophers. As for the beautiful objects of sculpture, they are too ce- 
 lebrated for me to venture a word upon them. The rooms are handsome 
 and well disposed. The great hall, in particular, is a noble room of fine 
 proportions, and the bold relief of the panelling of the lofty ceiling corre- 
 sponds with the general air of solid magnificence, but its disposition is 
 sadly complicated. As receptacles for sculpture, the light is introduced 
 too low. 
 
 Opposite to the Museum is the Palace of the Conservatori, a building 
 of the same appearance externally, but very different in the plan and ex- 
 tent within. The court is much larger, and it is adorned with many 
 fragments of colossal statues which excite our wonder. We hear of such 
 things, but the imagination is hardly excited, till something of them is 
 seen, and then we begin to fancy what the effect must have been of these 
 enormous productions, occupying the most conspicuous situations in a 
 large city. I can hardly conceive any one circumstance which could 
 produce a more impressive effect. On the ascent to the staircase are 
 some fine bas-reliefs, supposed to be taken from an unknown triumphal 
 arch of Marcus Aurelius, and which to me were the more interesting, as 
 some ancient temples are represented in them. One of these has a 
 
CAMPIDOGLIO. 
 
 443 
 
 continued ornament over the pediment. Here is also a figure of Curtius 
 leaping into the gulf, which is evidently a marsh. On the first floor is a 
 range of rooms adorned with paintings, not of much merit, by Arpini and 
 Lauretti ; and containing a few antiquities, one of which is the wolf re- 
 corded by Cicero to have been struck by lightning. Here also are pre- 
 served the Fasti consulares, found in the time of Paul the Third. Re- 
 turning from these apartments, and passing through different passages, I 
 was surprised to find myself on the ground, in a court from which another 
 flight of steps leads to the picture gallery. This consists of two large 
 rooms, not immediately connected together, containing a considerable 
 collection of paintings, some of which are very fine. Indeed a .great many 
 would be highly prized, anywhere but amongst the papal collections ; but 
 while some are really first-rate, it must be acknowledged that there are 
 also a good many indifferent pictures. They are by far too much crowded, 
 and the rooms are neither handsome in themselves, nor well suited to the 
 exhibition of paintings. This is all that is shown of this great rambling 
 building, which we may visit repeatedly without obtaining any tolerable 
 idea, either of its extent or disposition. 
 
 The Palace of the Senator is also part of a large building, of no regular 
 plan, and occupying different levels ; part of it is a prison, and the rest of 
 it, I know not what. It contains considerable remains of ancient walls 
 and piers, and I have already mentioned its appearance behind, where the 
 tabularium forms part of the same mass. The great hall is a fine room, 
 but it did not strike me by any particular excellence. 
 
 There are three statues in front of this building, two of which are re- 
 cumbent figures, and have been christened the Nile and Tiber. When 
 the statues of Hercules and Theseus are without veins, they are supposed 
 to represent those heroes in a deified state, but both these river gods have 
 the veins strongly marked. The middle statue is of porphyry ; it is called 
 Rome ; the body and drapery, which alone are ancient, are very fine. It 
 was perhaps a Bellona, for there seems no sort of reason for calling it 
 Rome. I mention this, in order to shew how everything here is patched 
 and named. 
 
 One of the earliest and finest palaces of modern Rome is the Palazzo 
 della Cancellaria, which was built by Bramante, and affords a good speci- 
 men of his style. The principal lines are unbroken, the openings are 
 small, those of the principal order too small, and the relief of the ornamental 
 
 3 L 2 
 
444 
 
 CANCELLARIA. 
 
 parts very trifling, and this in a large building, produces a breadth and 
 repose very favourable to magnificence. The orders are not very good, 
 but there are some beautiful ornaments of the cinque cento style. The 
 composition is formed of a basement, and two orders of pilasters upon pe- 
 destals ; the pilasters are disposed alternately in larger and smaller inter- 
 vals. Over the windows of the principal floor are pateras; and small 
 windows, or rather holes, over those of the upper ; both are bad. There 
 are two doorways in front, one of which was designed by Domenico 
 Fontana, and is not handsome ; the other was erected by Vignola, and is 
 not suited to the building. The court has two orders of arches on single 
 granite columns, light, airy, and elegant. The upper story of wall and 
 pilasters over these arches is too high, and indeed the composition would 
 be better if it were altogether omitted. All the details, that is, all the 
 parts essential to the order, are bad ; the mere ornaments are sometimes 
 good. 
 
 The Palazzo Giraud was also built by Bramante, and like the former, 
 consists of a basement, and two orders. In some respects it is superior to 
 the Cancellaria ; the pilasters are in pairs, which produces a better effect 
 than the unequal spacing in that building, but the upper order is too 
 small, and its two rows of windows are insignificant ; there ought cer- 
 tainly to be only one row of windows to the upper story, when there is 
 only one to the lower, yet Bramante has repeated this fault in both build- 
 ings. The present doorway is a posterior addition, not in good taste, the 
 original having been apparently too quiet and simple. The Palazzo Sora 
 has also been attributed to Bramante, but it has no characteristic of his 
 architecture. 
 
 The Palazzo Stoppani was designed by Raphael ; the upper part has 
 been added ; what remains of his, consists of a basement, and one story, 
 ornamented with coupled Doric columns. In his time, the adaptation of 
 the parts of ancient architecture to dwellinghouses, was a matter of ex- 
 periment, rather than of experience, and Raphael has committed many 
 faults which neither he, nor any body else, would repeat ; but I think we 
 may perceive in it, a power of combination, and a justness of sentiment, 
 which announces that this wonderful man would have been as eminent in 
 architecture as in painting, had his attention been equally directed that 
 way. There is a beautiful little chapel in the church of Santa Maria del 
 Popolo, of his design, which for elegance of proportion, and for the 
 
PALAZZO MASSIMI. 
 
 445 
 
 beautiful drawing and delicate execution of the ornaments, has no supe- 
 rior. 
 
 I do not know that I can do better than follow somewhat of a chrono- 
 logical order in giving to you this account of the Roman buildings ; and 
 the next work I shall therefore take up, is the Palazzo Massimi, of the ar- 
 chitecture of Peruzzi da Siena. The form of the ground obliged him to 
 make his front convex. The order here is placed below, consisting of 
 Doric pilasters and entablatures, on a rustic face of wall. The upper 
 part is also rusticated, but without pilasters, it has one row of upright 
 windows of the usual form, and two rows of windows whose height is not 
 equal to the breadth. This disposition is not at all pleasing, and I think 
 the front has been praised far beyond its deserts ; but Peruzzi died be- 
 fore the building was completed, and I wish to believe that the two upper 
 stories have not been executed according to his intention. The vestibule 
 is well managed, and the little court is really beautiful ; it is a square, with 
 a vaulted loggia on two sides, resting on columns, and corresponding pi- 
 lasters on the others. The one side, which is lower than the other, is 
 adorned with a fountain placed in a recess. It is excellent, but unfortu- 
 nately for its effect, not finished, and is usually in a very forlorn and dirty 
 state. 
 
 The Farnesina is also a work of Peruzzi. It is composed of a centre 
 and two side pieces (pavillions) which advance a little ; all is of one height, 
 and in two orders, the centre with five openings on each range, the sides 
 with two. The interpilasters of the lower part of the centre are occupied 
 by large arches, which originally opened into a loggia ; so far the ar- 
 rangements and proportions are excellent, but I will not enter into fur- 
 ther details, because they are not good. The central arches are now filled 
 up, and what was an open loggia, is to the great detriment of the build- 
 ing, a hall. Internally, Raphael's Cupid and Psyche, and his charming 
 Galatea, hardly permit one to think of the architecture. Yet the Cupid 
 and Psyche is not all of Raphael's painting, or rather a very small part of 
 it is his, though it may be all from his designs. It has been disharmonized 
 by a blue ground of Carlo Maratti, whose pencil has perhaps not been 
 confined entirely to the ground, but may be traced in many of the figures. 
 There are two or three other things by this architect in Rome, but they 
 are not of any great merit ; yet they would deserve attention from a 
 
446 
 
 PALAZZO FARNESE. 
 
 young architect ; his forms are well chosen, the leading lines are well pre- 
 served, and the parts boldly and distinctly marked. 
 
 The next artist to whose works I shall introduce you, is Antonio San- 
 gallo. There is one great merit in these early architects of Italy, that 
 they are totally devoid of affectation. Their houses are neither temples, 
 nor abbeys, nor castles, but simply dwellinghouses, and dwellinghouses 
 of the age in which they were constructed, without any attempt to pass 
 off as the productions of another period, either externally or internally. 
 The architecture of Antonio Sangallo, who followed the profession and 
 adopted the name of his maternal uncles, is distinguished by real and ap- 
 parent solidity. The latter is not obtained by bold and massive projec- 
 tions, but by large spaces and small openings, and by the ornamental 
 parts, which are rather broad, than of much relief, and have very little de- 
 coration. His style has a noble and simple character, which well merits 
 for him the rank he holds among the great architects of Italy. 
 
 One of the finest works of this artist is the Palazzo Sacchetti, in the 
 Strada Giulia. It consists of a cellar story, whose windows are placed 
 between the consoles supporting the decorations of those of the ground 
 floor ; and the place is so ample, and the parts are so well disposed, that this 
 does not appear at all defective. Over this are the ground floor, the prin- 
 cipal floor, a mezzanine, and an upper story. There are seven windows 
 in a range, all well distributed, and well proportioned, except in the di- 
 minution upwards, of the principal windows. The ornaments are also 
 in fine style, and the doorway is handsome, and well suited to the build- 
 ing. 
 
 Another very celebrated work is the great Palazzo Farnese, of which 
 the front towards the Piazza Farnese, and the two sides, were almost en- 
 tirely of the design of Sangallo ; and quite so as to the general distri- 
 bution of the subject, except the cornice, which was by Michael Angelo. 
 The court is by Vignola, and the back has also been cut up by the same 
 artist ; but of these I shall tell you more presently. This front is of great 
 extent, and the parts are large and magnificent ; yet it is by no means 
 one of this artist's best works. The windows are crowded, and over 
 ornamented, but perhaps this extra ornament is a posterior addition ; 
 the great space above the upper range of windows has a bad effect, 
 as it gives to that story the appearance of the principal one, which 
 
PALAZZO FARNESE. 
 
 447 
 
 other circumstances do not, and ought not in such a building, to bear 
 out. 
 
 The cornice, as I have already said, was the design of Michael Angelo 
 Buonarroti. Paul the Third, who began this edifice before his elevation 
 to the papacy, determined when he was pope, to have the most magnifi- 
 cent finish to his building that ever man conceived, and had a competi- 
 tion among the architects of the day, for the production of the most 
 beautiful cornice. The pope himself examined all the designs, " and 
 after," says Milizia, " he had praised that of Michael Angelo as excelling 
 all the rest, greatly to the mortification of poor Sangallo, he directed at last 
 one by a certain Melighino to be brought forward." This Melighino was 
 a Ferrarese, who had just undertaken to be an architect, after having, as 
 is supposed, served his master many years as a footman. Sangallo's pa- 
 tience was exhausted, and he declared that Melighino was a joke of an 
 architect (architetto da Beffe) to which the pope replied by a low bow and 
 a bitter smile, " But we will, that Melighino be an architect in good 
 earnest." These competitions are much the fashion now in England, and 
 there are some advantages in the plan; but as they are usually conducted, 
 there are also many disadvantages, amongst which perhaps it is not the 
 least, that under the notion of encouraging rising merit, they deprive 
 of its due reward, that which is already in some degree risen ; obliging 
 every man who wishes to be engaged in any public work, (generally the 
 most honourable, because the most conspicuous employment) to enter 
 into competition with the rawest beginners ; not before competent judges, 
 (for if that were the case, he would have no right to complain) but before 
 those, who perhaps have much general knowledge and taste, but who 
 have attended little to architecture. The difference is so great between 
 the drawings offered in the first instance, and the ultimate production of 
 this art in the building, that a man of the strictest honour and purest 
 taste, who has not frequently compared the geometrical drawing, and the 
 edifice which it undertakes to explain, and deeply studied the relation be- 
 tween one and the other, is perhaps as likely to admire a Melighino, 
 as a Michael Angelo, or a Sangallo. No building that has claimed the 
 admiration of ages was ever designed in this way. There is more to be 
 said on the subject, even in this particular point of view, but I will spare 
 you, and return to Michael Angelo, who has here produced a cornice too 
 large, even for the gigantic proportion of the palace which it crowns. I 
 
4^8 
 
 ARCHITECTURE OF VIGNOLA. 
 
 have not measured it, but I believe, including the ornament immediately 
 below, which joins with it in general effect, that it is above nine feet high, 
 and nearly equal in height to the principal range of windows. The showy 
 part of the interior, which is nothing in comparison with the extent and 
 magnificence of the building, consists of a fine gallery, 62 feet long, and 
 19 wide (Roman feet, I suppose), and some adjoining rooms. The gallery 
 contains probably the noblest monument which Annibale Caracci has left 
 of his great abilities. The subject painted on the ceiling is the triumph 
 of Bacchus, full of life, spirit, and beauty. Ariadne is a charming figure, 
 but there is a fawn dancing by her, quite overflowing with youthful spi- 
 rits, so full of grace and animation, that I do not wonder that her atten- 
 tion is directed towards him, rather than to Bacchus. The upper rooms 
 in this palace are assigned to the use of the students in the Neapolitan 
 academy at Rome. 
 
 I have already related all 1 had to say of Michael Angelo's architecture 
 in the account of St. Peter's and of the Campidoglio, I shall therefore 
 pass to Giulio Romano, whom I expect to see more advantageously at 
 Mantua. I would not, however, have you imagine that I do not set a 
 high value on what he has done at Rome, but the quantity is very little. 
 At first, to say the truth, I did not like it at all. What is difierent from 
 that we are used to admire, often displeases us merely on that account, 
 from habit, or rather I should say from the want of habit ; and the archi- 
 tecture of Giulio is very markedly different from that of every one else. 
 He strongly affected square forms, and seems to have laboured as much 
 as possible to divide his buildings into square, or nearly square compart- 
 ments. The receipt does not appear very promising, and yet the Palazzo 
 Cenci, as it was once called, the palace where the Accademia Tiberina now 
 holds its sittings, in spite of rags, and dirt, and dilapidation, is a noble de- 
 sign. 
 
 Giulio may be considered as the last of the early Roman architects. 
 Their style is marked by a severity and magnificence, which I confess 
 please me better, or rather excite in me higher ideas of excellence, than 
 the grace and beauty of the Palladian. Do not accuse me of refining too 
 much, when I add, that I do not mean to say that I like any of their houses, 
 better than those of Palladio. I think that they followed a beau ideal of 
 a higher character and expression, but Palladio undoubtedly reached his 
 object much more nearly than any of the Roman architects ; had Raphael 
 
VILLA GIULIA. 
 
 449 
 
 liv^ed, and followed architecture, I am persuaded that we should have had 
 something far superior to what has ever been seen ; but Raphael could 
 hardly have done more for the Roman style, than Palladio did for that 
 which he pursued. Of this more ornamental style, Vignola was the best 
 among the Roman architects, but his buildings still retain something of 
 the severity of his predecessors, and they fall far short of the grace and 
 elegance of the Vicentine. Within the city, he has left very little but 
 the court of the Farnese palace, which is not very fine, and whose style 
 he has preposterously carried to the outside of the building, to form the 
 centre of its north-west front, although entirely discordant with the work 
 of Sangallo. On the outside of the gates are the little church of Sant 
 Andrea, and the Villa Giulia, a work of considerable beauty and great 
 defects, and now in a very forlorn condition. The first of these, the 
 church of Sant Andrea, has been much admired, and even pointed out as 
 a model for young architects ; yet it is full of faults. It is oblong on the 
 plan, covered with an elliptical dome ; a bad form, for which it does not 
 appear that there was any sufficient reason ; since a design occupying the 
 same ground, with a square room and a portico, would have given to the 
 front the relief that it wants, and offered a reason for the pediment, which 
 is now placed against the plain wall. " Ecco," says Stern, " come s'imita 
 lo spirit© delle antiche invenzioni." I should certainly think him ironical, 
 if his whole description were not excessively laudatory. It is too high, 
 both externally and internally, and yet with all this, there certainly is 
 united considerable beauty in the proportions, and in the principal parts. 
 In the front of the Villa Giulia, the upper story wants height and conse- 
 quence, as from its distribution and style of ornament, it certainly ought 
 to be the principal. The back court and nymphaeum present in some 
 parts a pleasing variety of lines ; but there are too many breaks, and the 
 whole is too intricate, and what is worse, whimsical ; and Vignola when 
 licentious has less grace than Borromino ; his forte is in correct architec- 
 ture. The circular gallery above, produces a very pleasing effect, and 
 would be admirable if filled with sculpture ; at present it is forlorn and 
 naked. 
 
 The most famous work of this architect is the Palace of Capraruola, 
 of which I have already given you some account. It forms a pentagon, 
 with a bastion at each angle, as if it were a fortification. I do not like 
 
 3 M 
 
450 
 
 QUIRINAL. 
 
 these pretences, nor do I admire the taste which creates to itself diffi- 
 culties, in order to display ingenuity in overcoming them. 
 
 I will not detain you with the architecture of Giacomo del Duca, of 
 Bartolommeo Ammanati, or a dozen others, whose greatest merit is, that 
 they have not entirely lost the massive simplicity of the Roman school. 
 I should however be inclined to point out as worthy of attention, to any 
 person going to Rome, the Palazzo Alessandrini in the Piazza of the 
 Santi Apostoli ; it is merely a square front, with seven windows in a 
 range, but so disposed as to give the idea of lofty and magnificent rooms ; 
 perhaps, if one were to criticize it minutely, a little too lofty, but the 
 " too much" in architecture is infinitely preferable to the " too little." 
 
 Ammanati erected the Palazzo Ruspoli in the Corso, the ground- 
 floor of which is now occupied by the great coffee-house. An unbroken 
 range of nineteen windows must have an appearance of magnificence. 
 The doorway is not according to the original design. It is now shut up. 
 I think the greatest fault in the arrangement depends on the too great 
 height of the upper range of windows. This palace is admired for its 
 staircase. All that is seen at one view is a fine flight of marble steps, 
 each of one stone. The very frequent disposition of a Roman staircase is 
 that of a wall in the middle, and a flight of steps supported on an inclined 
 vault, alternately on each side, and that is the plan of the one in this 
 palace. 
 
 The front of the Quirinal palace is attributed to Domenico Fontana, 
 and taking it as it probably originally stood, it is not bad, although the 
 upper story, being the principal, has not a good effect, and the design is 
 now cut up by a great arched opening made for the benediction. This 
 was done by Bernini. The two upper stories of the flank, I suspect (for 
 I have no direct evidence) were added by Flaminio Ponzio : it is com- 
 pletely one house upon another, and nothing can be more ugly. The 
 court is certainly very fine ; it consists of a long square, surrounded by 
 open arcades on three sides, and the fourth, which is the end farthest from 
 the entrance, with a double row, and a clock tower ; forming a front and 
 entrance, which if not very good in itself is evidently the principal object 
 in the court, and gives a unity and character to the whole. The design 
 was by Ottavio Mascherini, but here also Ponzio has been at work with 
 his abominable upper house. The great staircase is badly placed, and has 
 
QUIRINAL. 
 
 451 
 
 110 effect, though on a magnificent scale. The entrance hall I estimate at 
 40 feet wide, 50 high, and 100 long ; the proportions are pleasing, but 
 nothing else is good. Thence we pass through a long passage or gallery 
 vaulted with a waggon-head, with windows on one side, to a range of 
 apartments which was fitted up in this palace by the French, to receive, 
 as it is said, the king of Rome ; or at least begun for that purpose, and 
 now completed for the emperor : it is, I think, the most beautiful suite I 
 have ever seen. 
 
 The Anticamera of the Guardia Nobile is 70 feet long, 40 wide, and 
 50 high. It was lighted, when I saw it, only by windows in the vaulted 
 roof, which shewed it to the best advantage. There are lower windows on 
 each side, but these were then closed. It is surrounded by a high plinth, 
 which is generally a much better finish than our base, dado, and surbase. 
 The general colour is pale gray. The chairs are yellow and gold, the 
 carpet green, the curtains white ; there is no gilding on the architecture, 
 but this combination of colours is very good, and you must not laugh at 
 me for attending to these particulars, for if they be not essential parts of 
 the art, they are however accessories of great importance in the effect 
 produced. A handsome room may be quite spoilt by bad finishing, and 
 
 111 chosen colours in the walls and furniture ; and the defects of a poor one 
 concealed, or at least much diminished, by good management in this re- 
 spect. 
 
 Most of the apartments of the suite have coved ceilings, which is pro- 
 bably the best form for the rooms of a splendid mansion, but there is 
 always a difficulty in the management of the angles. If the margin of 
 the central flat compartment be continued down the cove, the angles are 
 left as bent panels, which seems absurd, and it is extremely difficult to or- 
 nament them, yet this is probably the best practicable disposition. We 
 may sometimes see an angular rib, with or without the continuation of 
 the middle frame ; but it does not look well. The chief rule to be given 
 in this style of finish, is to make the cove large, and the framings broad 
 and rich. 
 
 The red hangings shew the pictures best ; (and there are some very fine 
 ones in this palace :) the combination of red and yellow produces the 
 richest effect. In one room in particular, a reddish flower on a yellow da- 
 mask is very beautiful. The cornice here has gilt mouldings on a white 
 
 3 M 2 
 
452 
 
 CONSULTA. 
 
 ground. The furniture is mahogany and gold, with cushions of the da- 
 mask of the hangings. The gardens occupy a fine situation, overlooking 
 great part of Rome, and art has adorned them with the papal arms in 
 coloured sand, slags, broken pots, and other beauties of that sort, far more 
 lasting than the evanescent bloom of a few flowers. 
 
 In front of this palace are the celebrated horses ascribed to Phidias 
 and Praxiteles, and their attendants ; of one of which you have a cast at 
 the King's Mews. They are placed on each side of an obelisk, not on 
 the same line, but forming an angle, which is to embrace a fountain ; the 
 enormous basin of which, a cup of a single block of granite, twenty-five 
 palms in diameter, was found in several fragments in the temple of 
 Peace. These figures do not unite perfectly well with the obelisk, 
 and their isolated situation is not such a one as that for which they were 
 originally intended, as may be certainly known by the unfinished backs 
 of the figures ; and by the projecting parts having terminated abruptly, 
 certainly against a plain surface. Yet altogether they form a most noble 
 group, and one which would do honour to any building or situation in 
 Europe ; one regrets to see the destruction which the weather has occa- 
 sioned of the surfaces of the marble, furrowing lines on it, and intro- 
 ducing false lights and shades. 
 
 Opposite to the palace of the Quirinal is the Consulta, a modern build- 
 ing, erected in 1730 by the Cavaliere Fuga, but really a very handsome 
 and well proportioned edifice. It consists of a cellar story ; not a base- 
 ment, because a basement story is one, which seeming to be intended for 
 the support of another, yet is that by which we enter ; a ground-floor, 
 and a mezzanine, all very plain ; above these is the principal floor, with a 
 moderate portion of ornament, and there are windows in the frieze, in- 
 dicating another story. The windows of the ground-floor* have a pretty 
 broad dressing, and a pediment over them ; and the whole of these dress- 
 ings has the appearance of resting on a pedestal, which again is supported 
 on a plinth, perforated by the square opening of the lower windows. 
 This arrangement is excellent. The mezzanine windows are perfectly 
 plain. I do not dislike this, but it would be better if there were no mez- 
 zanine. Where the whole height exhibits but five ranges of windows, we 
 put the principal range too high when we make it fourth from the 
 bottom. 
 
ARCHITECTURE OF BERNINI. 
 
 I have already mentioned to you the eastern portico of St. John Late- 
 ran, built by Domenico Fontana, with two ranges of arches, and of rather 
 a licentious architecture. Indeed, Fontana paid but little attention to pre- 
 serve the characteristic proportions and ornaments of the different orders. 
 This second school of architecture is much less exact than the first ; and 
 very much inferior both in the design and execution of the details. Ad- 
 joining to the church, Fontana was employed to build the great square pa- 
 lace of the Lateran, but the parts are crowded, and it has not an effect 
 by any means proportioned to its size. This artist also erected for the 
 Cardinal Montalto, the chapel of the Presepio, in Santa Maria Maggiore ; 
 the work was stopt for want of money, and Fontana completed it at his 
 own expense. This generosity made the fortune of Fontana, when after- 
 wards his patron became pope, under the name of Sixtus V. 
 
 There were two other Fontanas. John, the elder brother of Dome- 
 nico, was more engaged in hydraulics than in architecture. He was em- 
 ployed in settling the dispute between the inhabitants of Terni and those 
 of Reati, about the disposal of the waters of the Velino, and in forming a 
 head of water in the Aniene at Tivoli, for the supply of the town and of 
 the mills, to which we owe the present form of the great cascade. Carlo 
 came from the same neighbourhood, and was probably therefore of the 
 same family, but he was not much employed as an architect. He is more 
 known as the author of an elaborate account of St. Peter's, than by any 
 edifice of his own. 
 
 But what I have undertaken to give you an account of, is the principal 
 palaces of Rome, and not the lives of their architects, and I believe I 
 have now almost come to the end of my task. The Sapienza, at least as 
 far as regards the front, was built by Giacomo della Porta ; it purposes to 
 be a simple range of building, between two towers, but the towers are too 
 small, and not sufficiently marked, being in fact only distinguished by 
 little strips of rustic, intended to have the appearance of quoins : the 
 ground-floor of the middle part is without windows. The disposition 
 would be picturesque^ if it were well managed. The court is said to have 
 been begun at least by M. Angelo, but it is doubtful if we see any thing 
 of his ; it is nevertheless very handsome, forming an oblong square, sur- 
 rounded by two stories of arches, not very long, with the church at one 
 end ; but unfortunately that church is one of the ravings of Borromini. 
 
454 
 
 ARCHITECTURE OF BORROMINI. 
 
 There are two architects whose names are so familiar, that you will per- 
 haps expect to hear something of their works. I mean Bernini and Bor- 
 romini. Both have been mentioned in the account of churches, but in 
 the way of palaces, I think I should hardly notice any of their productions, 
 if it were not for the reputation of the artists. The Propaganda is by 
 the former, but I am at a loss what to say in its praise. The front of the 
 Palazzo Ghigi, afterwards Odescalchi, in the Piazza de' Santi Apostoli, 
 is also ascribed to him ; it is more rich, than magnificent, more adorned, 
 than beautiful. The proportions are however, pretty good, and the effect 
 may be admired, though the details are very bad. The most objection- 
 able particulars are some consoles placed in the frieze, and some wild un- 
 describable crinkums in the ornament of the upper windows. The pilas- 
 tered front is considerably extended beyond Bernini's design, and I believe 
 the addition injures the architecture. 
 
 Bernini's whims are principally in the details ; the general disposition 
 is often simple and good. His capitals, entablatures, and ornaments to the 
 doors and windows, are capricious, and in general very ugly, merely that 
 they may not be like what had been done before. The childish and licen- 
 tious love of novelty which this artist exhibited in the ornaments, per- 
 vades every part of the designs of Borromini. 
 
 The immense Palazzo Barberini was begun by Carlo Maderno, conti- 
 nued by Bernini, and finished by Borromini. The wings are beneath cri- 
 ticism, and have no sort of correspondence in character with the centre. 
 This centre is composed of three ranges of arcades, nearly equal ; the first 
 adorned with Doric half-columns, the second with Ionic half-columns, and 
 the third with Corinthian pilasters. This equality of parts, which ought to 
 be distinguished, renders the design confused and displeasing. The prin- 
 cipal story in a house, and probably in every building, should be distinctly 
 marked, and separated from the basement below, and from the subor- 
 dinate parts above it, otherwise neither the eye, nor the understanding, can 
 approve of the design. Considered of themselves, the two lower ranges of 
 arches are good, the upper is very bad. 
 
 Borromini has left sufficient marks of his interference in the Palazzo 
 Falconieri, where he has made two equal doorways, and put the staircase 
 as much out of the way as possible. His elevations, with all their faults, 
 are better than his plans, for notwithstanding his extravagance, which at 
 
ARCHITECTURE OF BORROMINI. 
 
 455 
 
 last amounted to absolute madness, he had some feeling of beauty ; though 
 I would not be understood to praise wholly, any one of his productions. 
 He is said to have been concerned in the Doria Pamfili, in the Corso, a 
 building monstrous in every sense, and yet, in spite of its absurdity, the 
 long range of similar windows loaded with enormous mouldings, and over- 
 charged in all parts, produces an effect of great grandeur, as seen obliquely 
 in the narrow Corso. This palace, extensive as it appears in its present 
 state, has never been completed, and is a mere fragment of the entire 
 design. It is now perhaps, hardly equal in extent to the Altieri, which is 
 of better architecture, without being good. 
 
456 
 
 LETTER XXX. 
 
 ROME. 
 
 Rome, April, 1817. 
 
 Ha viNG conducted you through the principal buildings of Rome, both 
 ancient and modern, I shall now endeavour to lead you to those of less 
 interest, but which nevertheless deserve some sort of notice ; and whose 
 number and extent contribute much to swell the general notion of Roman 
 magnificence. We will begin these walks from the Piazza di Spagna, the 
 neighbourhood of which is the usual residence of foreigners, and especially 
 of the English, and from which I am only separated by the magnificent flight 
 of steps of the Trinity de' Monti, which I have already described to you. 
 This piazza is adorned with a fountain in the whimsical shape of a boat 
 receiving the water, instead of floating in it. This water is the Acqua 
 Vergine, the channel of which is not sufficiently elevated to make here 
 any considerable display, but this is no sufficient reason for such an absur- 
 dity. We will then walk if you please, along the Via Babuina, which the 
 Romans say is now subject to the mal aria, because the French made a 
 garden on the hill above it, to the Piazza del Popolo. I have already said a 
 little about this square, if it may be so called, but I think I may add some- 
 thing more ; on one side is the city gate called the Porta del Popolo, and 
 the church of Santa Maria del Popolo, which if not very beautiful in itself, 
 yet will attract strangers by some good paintings, and by its ornaments of 
 the cinque cento, some of which are exquisitely beautiful. It is, I believe, 
 the richest church in the world in specimens of this style, which was evi- 
 dently taken from that of the ancient sculptured vases ; we also see here 
 the chapel of Cardinal Cibo, rich in marbles, but where the combination of 
 black and verd antique produces a gloomy effect ; and the little chapel 
 of the Ghigi family, designed by Raphael, and adorned with sculpture by 
 his hand ; but I have already given you an account of this little jewel. 
 
 The opposite side of the square, presents the opening of three long 
 straight streets, which I long to widen, and to conduct to a suitable 
 termination. The middle one is the Corso, the ancient Via Lata, to which 
 my desire of improving is particularly directed, as it would be very possi- 
 
FRENCH ACADEMY. 
 
 457 
 
 ble to introduce the Capitoline hill into the view along it. This might 
 be crowned with something better than the church of Ara Coeli, and the 
 shabby buildings which now encumber its slopes might easily be removed. 
 At the angles between these three streets, are the two corresponding 
 churches of Santa Maria de' Miracoli, and Santa Maria di Monte Santo. 
 Now if you ask me whether these are two St. Maries, or only one, really I 
 cannot tell you. The churches are pretty well, but rather commonplace. 
 
 On the right hand of this Place, as you enter Rome, are some low 
 buildings, forming, I believe, a corpo di guardia, and perhaps something 
 beside, not at all magnificent. I have seen sopie designs for completing 
 this part in a manner more worthy of the principal entrance to Rome; but 
 none that I much approve.* On the opposite side is a zig-zag road, lead- 
 ing up the hill to the public gardens ; the first part appears to be semicir- 
 cular, and I think will be handsome, but it is not yet finished. In the 
 middle is a fine obelisk, transported hither from the Circus maximus, 
 which it was brought by Augustus from Egypt to adorn; and a fountain. 
 Here then is a fine collection of objects. It wants but little of including se- 
 veral more, and of becoming such an entrance as the enthusiasm of some 
 of our travellers seems to have imagined it. 
 
 From the Piazza (for I leave the walls and gates to a future opportu- 
 nity) we ascend the Mons Pincius to what are now the public gardens; an 
 improvement for which Rome is indebted to the French. Hence we have 
 a noble view over the modern city, with its domes and palaces, of the Ja- 
 nicular and Vatican hills, of St. Peter's, which here alone perhaps, shews 
 its whole height, and of the overgrown palace which shoulders it. Thence 
 we follow the line of hills to Monte Mario, rising nearly as high as the 
 summit of the dome of St. Peter's, and the eye traces the valley of the 
 Tiber to Soracte and the Apennines. Nearer are the woods and buildings 
 of the Villa Borghese, and the house of Raphael, a picturesque object, 
 which however externally, owes its greatest interest to a name ; and 
 bend in the outline of the city exposes to us a portion of the external wall, 
 with a deep road at its foot, crowned by the pine groves of the Villa Lu- 
 dovisi. 
 
 From the public gardens we pass to what was the Villa Medici, but is 
 now the residence of the French academy: here are apartments and 
 working rooms provided for the students, and a noble gallery of casts in 
 
 * One of these has since been carried into execution. 
 3 N 
 
458 
 
 QUATTRO FONTANE. 
 
 sculpture and architecture, for their use ; here also the annual perform- 
 ances are exhibited, previously to their being sent to Paris. The back- 
 front of the building has been much admired. It attracts however more 
 praise for the ancient bas-reliefs with which it is adorned, some of which 
 are very beautiful, than for its architecture. That architecture is well 
 suited to receive such pieces of sculpture; but perhaps it is not very good 
 taste, or very good judgment, to decorate a building in this way, as the 
 sculptures suffer from the constant exposure. A little summer-house in 
 the gardens contains a pair of the most beautiful pilaster ornaments in 
 existence. I prefer them to those at the entrance of the gallery at Flo- 
 rence ; but these also have suffered, and are suffering. 
 
 The next object is the Church of the Trinita de' Monti, standing at the 
 head of the magnificent staircase I have so often mentioned, and with a fine 
 obelisk in front, taken from the circus of Sallust. The church is not very 
 beautiful, but the adjoining convent contains the celebrated Taking down 
 from the Cross, by Daniel di Volterra. Thence, passing close under my 
 lodging, which I believe is in the house inhabited by Niccold Poussin, and 
 close by the residence of Claude Lorraine, and by a house which the 
 latter has introduced several times in his paintings, we keep the Via Sis- 
 tina, which would lead us in a straight line by a small descent, to the Piazza 
 Barberini, in the upper part of the hollow which separates the Pincian hill 
 from the Quirinal ; but turning to the left, we may visit by the way the Capu- 
 chin church and convent, famous for the St. Michael of Guido, an excellent 
 figure, but as is the case in many of Guido's paintings, the bright blue of 
 the cuirass is rather out of harmony; this is probably owing to the use of 
 a colour which has not deepened with the rest. There are likewise some 
 other good paintings, and amongst them one which is said to be the mas- 
 terpiece of Pietro da Cortona, but his frigid productions will not please, 
 after the glow and animation of Guido and Domenichino. The cemetery 
 of the convent contains mummies and skeletons, dressed, and sitting in 
 niches. Skulls, lamps, roses, and arabesques ; all of which are formed 
 entirely by the disposition of human bones, constitute the ornaments of a 
 suite of small rooms. Our conductor, a Capuchin, seemed to find the ex- 
 hibition very diverting. 
 
 From this church we descend into the Piazza Barberini, in the lower 
 part of which is a fountain, composed of a triton, supported on four dol- 
 phins, and blowing up the water, " invenzione," says the Guide-book, 
 
ARCH OF GALLIENUS. 
 
 459 
 
 " assai stimata di Bernini, ' For my part, I have no taste for monsters. 
 The water rises with considerable force, and in windy weather often ex- 
 hibits the prismatic colours. We ascend the Quirinal hill along a conti- 
 nuation of the Via Sistina, to the Quattro Fontane ; where we cross the 
 long straight street leading to the Porta Pia, and marked at the other 
 end by the obelisk and figures of Monte Cavallo. We descend from the 
 Quattro Fontane, and after a slight depression pass by a still more 
 trifling rise on to the Viminal, of whose existence you are hardly sensible, 
 unless you are looking out for it, since the depression is almost equally 
 trifling towards the Esquiline. If however, instead of going up the Vi- 
 minal, you descend to the most depressed part of the Via delle Quattro 
 Fontane, by the Via di San Vitale, you will be more sensible of the de- 
 scent ; and if you get into the gardens and vineyards on the left, some 
 substructions marking the brow of a hill, exhibit the Viminal, not indeed 
 as a large or high hill, but as one which might even still be counted 
 among the seven little eminences of Rome. On the other side also, the 
 Via Santa Pudenziana leads into an evident hollow. The succession of 
 these hills is perhaps more evident, if instead of passing by the Quattro 
 Fontane, we go from the Piazza Trajana, along the Via Magnanapoli, 
 and passing by the Villa Aldobrandini, continue along the Vie di San 
 Lorenzo and Santa Maria Maggiore. 
 
 The Esquiline is more conspicuous, and its ascent towards the church 
 of Santa Maria Maggiore is marked by rows of trees, and crowned with 
 an obelisk, standing at the back of the church. It is a very extensive hill, 
 now almost entirely occupied by gardens and vineyards. Passing in 
 front of the church just mentioned, we arrive at that of St. Antony, where 
 once a year, the ceremony of blessing the horses is performed ; and after- 
 wards at a fragment of brick and rubble, called the trophies of Marius, 
 because here were found the marble trophies known by that name, now 
 standing on the balustrades of the square of the Capitol ; but it is in fact, 
 as antiquaries are tolerably well agreed, the Castello, or as we should say, 
 not very correctly, the head of the Marcian aqueduct. In returning we 
 may pass by the Arch of Gallienus, a plain building, with no other orna- 
 ment than what arises from the employment of two Corinthian pilasters ; 
 and visit the churches of St. Praxedes, (without obtaining any portion of 
 the indulgences promised to those who frequent it) of San Martino de' 
 
 3 N 2 
 
460 
 
 TEMPLE OF MARS ULTOR. 
 
 Monti, and San Pietro in Vinculis, which I have already described. They 
 are all seated near the brow of the Esquiline. 
 
 I must take you a little way back, in order to see what is vulgarly 
 styled the Temple of Pallas, which some antiquaries suppose to be the 
 Forum of Nerva, and Palladio considers as a fragment of a court sur- 
 rounding the temple of Nerva. So lately as 1614 Inigo Jones saw some 
 of the temple itself remaining, but it was pulled down shortly afterwards 
 by Paul V. to make use of the marble. In the present day, two marble 
 columns are seen in front of a wall of large blocks of peperino, and above 
 them an entablature and a continued pedestal, which break round the 
 columns. This pedestal, as well as the frieze, is enriched with sculpture, 
 -and on its face, in the space between the two columns, is a figure of 
 Pallas, and the other reliefs are supposed to represent the arts of which 
 she was patroness ; an arch is seen in the back wall, but filled up with 
 similar masonry, and not corresponding to the situation of the columns. 
 The mouldings are over-ornamented ; the dentils and corona are too 
 small, and the sima is too large. These particulars, and the disposition of 
 the columns, announce the decline of art, but in its earliest stage, for the 
 sculpture, and the mouldings and ornaments are in general very good, and 
 the whole has been well executed. Inigo Jones, on the authority of Xiphi- 
 lin, says that it was built by Apollodorus, before Trajan was emperor. 
 
 Our next object is the Arco de' Pantani, and the massive wall at 
 the back of the temple of Mars Ultor, supposed to have inclosed the 
 forum of Hadrian ; and we will pass through the arch, and see the 
 remains of the temple itself, consisting of part of the wall of the cell, and 
 three columns and a pilaster of white marble. The entablature of this 
 piece also remains, and the soffite of the peristyle ; and above it, and rest- 
 ing in great measure on two of the columns, is the tower of a convent, 
 the work of the middle ages. Within the convent are said to be some 
 remains of the internal peristyle, but as it is inhabited by nuns, they can- 
 not be seen. These outside parts are valuable, not only for the excellence 
 of their design and workmanship, which are among the best in Rome, 
 but also as exhibiting some particulars not elsewhere to be seen. The 
 separate portions of the leaves of these Corinthian capitals are divided 
 into four points, instead of as usual into five, and the points of the lower 
 division in some instances pass under those of the upper, instead of lying 
 
FOllUM OF TRAJAN. 
 
 461 
 
 upon them, as is the case m all other examples. A bead and fillet along 
 the wall mark the height of the capital ; the marble rafters of the soffite 
 rest on the architrave, there being one to each column. This I take to 
 be the regular Roman practice, while the Greeks made them smaller and 
 more numerous, and placed them over the frieze. They are ornamented 
 with a fret on their under surface, and one large panel, with a fine rose in 
 the centre, occupies the space between them. 
 
 From this we may proceed to the Baths of Paulus ^mylius ; a well-known 
 fragment, which every body agrees was no bath, and had nothing to do 
 with Paulus ^mylius. Desdogetz has given it a place in his work, but it 
 certainly does not deserve to be introduced among the principal antiquities 
 of Rome. Little remains but a semicircle of brick walls, with pilasters also 
 of brick. It has been supposed to have formed part of the forum of Tra- 
 jan, with which it does not correspond by its situation ; and in character 
 it differs still more from that noble work. It may have been the porticus 
 absidata, which is found in the Regionaries near the forum of Nerva, or it 
 may have been twenty other things. Hence we pass to the Forum of Tra- 
 jan, where recent excavations have occasioned great discoveries. Marble 
 pavement in its original situation, steps, foundations of walls, numerous 
 fragments of granite columns, and four of the Corinthian bases belonging 
 to them, remain in their places, and these, with the help of several pieces 
 of travertine, also unmoved, and evidently intended to receive similar 
 bases, have enabled the directors to put the fragments in proper situa- 
 tions. What is principally laid open is the Basilica, and for this it was 
 necessary to destroy several houses and two convents. The width of the 
 part now exposed is believed to be about half the length of the basi- 
 lica. Of the libraries, antiquaries have thought that they distinguished 
 some vestiges near the column, but very little of the situation has been 
 examined, and nothing of that of the temple of Trajan, erected after- 
 wards by Hadrian. The remains of some piers were found on the north 
 side of the column, and indications of their having been altered, and 
 partly removed, in order, as is imagined, to make room for the access to 
 this temple. Two churches and a palace are in the way of any further 
 researches in the part where, if anywhere, the remains of such a temple 
 would probably be found ; and independently of this, the great extent of 
 the ground required to be excavated, in order to display the whole design, 
 and the difficulty and expense of preserving it after it is exposed, deprives 
 
462 
 
 FORUM OF TRAJAN. 
 
 one of all hope of seeing it executed. The column still remains erect, a 
 noble monument of the taste and skill of the architect Apollodorus. 
 It may seem that one column of this sort is very much like another, and 
 that there is little room for the merit of the architect, but if you were to 
 go two or three times from this to the column of Antoninus, and return 
 to that of Trajan, you would feel the great superiority of the latter, 
 though it might puzzle you not a little, to find out in what that supe- 
 riority consisted. This magnificent column must always have been con- 
 spicuous as it is now, rising above the basilica, and all the buildings of 
 the forum ; but the pedestal could hardly be seen, except from the con- 
 fined little court in which it stood. This apparent disproportion is one 
 of the secrets of effect in architecture. You shew large and lofty build- 
 ings, from large spaces it is true, but you should also endeavour sometimes 
 to bring great things into contrast with little spaces. Nothing impresses 
 the idea of size more strongly, and when again you see an edifice from a 
 larger space, and perhaps over the tops of smaller buildings, the imagi- 
 nation carries on the idea of size to all its accompaniments. The frag- 
 ments of granite columns which I have mentioned are most of them 
 broken parts of shafts, each of which has consisted of a single stone, but 
 some of them are a complete stone, which has formed only part of a 
 shaft ; and in this case it appears that the Romans, instead of making a 
 flat and horizontal joint, formed a variously, and irregularly undulating 
 surface on the one piece, and cut the other to correspond with it; a 
 laborious and difficult process, of which the object seems to be merely to 
 hide the joint, for the strength of the column would not be increased by 
 it. The fragments of ornament dug up here, are inserted in the wall 
 which surrounds the excavation ; many of them are of the highest beauty. 
 Every morsel we see of the works of Apollodorus makes us regret that 
 we do not see more of them. Yet in the plan there are evidences of 
 risalli, and of arrangements in some parts like that of a triumphal arch. 
 This nicknackery seems hardly consistent with the Greek style of the 
 artist, or with the exquisite taste exhibited in the mouldings and orna- 
 ments. The disposition of the basilica is supposed to have been the 
 same as that of the church of St. Paul, and the dimensions not very 
 different. The different modes of pavement indicate what parts have 
 been covered, and what exposed. 
 
 I said there were two churches in the way of this excavation ; they 
 
PALAZZO COLONNA. 
 
 463 
 
 are both at one end of the Piazza. The one, del nome di Maria, does 
 not demand much attention. The other, designed by Sangallo, and dedi- 
 cated to Santa Maria di Loreto, is said to have given in its double cupola, 
 the model of that in the Vatican. It is an octagonal church, with broken 
 pilasters at the angles. Three square recesses, and a deeper one for the 
 altar, mark in some degree the form of a cross ; four niches occupy the 
 remaining sides. The disposition is pleasing, but the minor parts are not 
 well managed, and it is over-ornamented, especially about the niches. 
 The gilding is badly disposed, and being too equally scattered all over, 
 looks spotty, and not rich. Thus in the cavetto of the cornice, which 
 occupies the place of a sima, the roses and husks which ornament it are 
 gilt, and a little ornament surrounding the roses left white ; the modil- 
 lions are partly gilt, partly white ; in the ovolo, the eggs and darts are 
 gilt, the band round the eggs is white ; in the ogee a similar arrangement 
 is observed; the fillets of the columns are gilt, the flutes white; thus 
 every part has a portion of gilding, none is entirely gilt ; and this equality 
 of distribution produces no effect, or rather I should say it has a flat and 
 disagreeable one. This church contains one of the finest productions of 
 modern sculpture, in the statue of Santa Susanna ; a very graceful figure, 
 with a beautiful expression of countenance. It is the work of Francis 
 du Quesnoy, who is called here il Flamingo. 
 
 Making a little diversion to the left, to the foot of the Capitoline hill, 
 we find the sepulchre of C. Publicius Bibulus, remarkable, not so much 
 for its architecture, for that is not particularly fine, but for its date. The 
 inscription is not Publicio, but Poplico, but however his name was spelt, 
 he is supposed to have been tribune of the people in the year of Rome 
 543, and a strenuous opposer of the authority and influence of the patri- 
 cians. The building is a small edifice of peperino, probably square, but 
 one sees only the front, which is ornamented by four pilasters of a sort of 
 Doric order, plain and simple, but on the whole well proportioned, and 
 it appears to have been neatly executed. 
 
 Hence we pass into the Piazza de' Santi Apostoli, where the great palace 
 of the Colonna family has, externally, neither beauty nor magnificence ; 
 and the entrance is very ill-disposed. Inside, I should fill my letter if I 
 only were to sketch a slight description of the treasures of art which it 
 contains ; but if I spare you this, I must nevertheless say a word about 
 
464 
 
 PALAZZO COLONNA. 
 
 the magnificent gallery, to which it would be difficult to find a parallel. 
 It is, according to the Guide-book, 208 feet long, and 25 wide, but at 
 each end, a portion nearly square, is separated from the rest of the 
 room by two columns, and two pilasters of ginllo antico, the most beau- 
 tiful for the purposes of architecture of all the coloured marbles. These 
 support an arch. The ceiling is coved without any flat part, and alto- 
 gether painted, without any ribs, or appearance of solid architecture. In 
 the lower part, the ornaments are gold on a white ground. There are 
 two ranges of windows on each side, which is too many, especially 
 for the pictures, and without pictures the room would not look half so 
 well. It has a most rich and noble effect, which you will not understand 
 from description ; I only regret that I cannot send it to London for you 
 to look at. 
 
 The gardens of this palace occupy the slope of the Quirinal, and there 
 is a casino belonging to them in the Piazza di Monte Cavallo, which 
 would be a large house in England. Within their circuit are the re- 
 mains called the baths of Constantine, (though they exhibit nothing 
 analogous to what we have of the other baths) and here also lie the 
 disjecta membra, attributed sometimes to one, and sometimes to another, 
 of what the ancients have described to us as the largest buildings in 
 Rome. The site of the baths is supposed to have extended over a great 
 part of the Quirinal hill, and to be now covered by I know not how many 
 palaces. The remains I have just mentioned, contained two lofty stories 
 of vaulted halls above ground, and exhibit some traces of a third. A 
 raking line seen in one part, with a range of arches following it, seems to 
 announce a great flight of steps ; but how the rooms were disposed, or to 
 what purpose they were applied, can only be guessed at. The marble 
 fragments were not found where they now lie, but I believe where the 
 Consulta has been since built. They consist of parts of an entablature 
 of Parian marble. Palladio made out from them Aurelian's temple of the 
 Sun, with twelve columns in front ; but the style and workmanship are far 
 too good for the age of Aurelian, and more suited to that of Nero. The 
 blocks are of an immense size, and the whole entablature must have been 
 near 16 feet in height, which would imply a column of feet in dia- 
 meter. The ornaments are full and rich, and exhibit that luxury of 
 finish, which I have before noticed in the temple of Jupiter Tonans, 
 
FOUNTAIN OF TREVI. 
 
 465 
 
 with an execution, perhaps not quite so good. The extent of plain 
 surface close to him appears to have offended the eye of the workman, 
 and he has covered the ovoli and part of the foliage with very neat 
 parallel striae. 
 
 Our next object will be the Fountain of Trevi, attached to one end 
 of the Palazzo Conti, which seems to make part of the ornament of the 
 fountain. Plenty of fault may be found both with the architecture, and 
 with the sculpture ; yet on the whole it is very magnificent, and with its 
 profusion of bright water, makes a most noble object, such as are seen in 
 Rome, and in Rome alone. The rocks, and jets of water below, are 
 admirably disposed, and if the banks are sometimes dirty, we must not 
 fix our attention on them. Milizia considers it as a fault, that you no- 
 where see the whole body of water at once, but this is on the contrary 
 an advantage, as it leaves the imagination more at liberty. 
 
 If we leave the Coonna gardens by the gate on Monte Cavallo, we 
 find ourselves near the iospigliosi Palace, where there is a fine collection 
 of paintings. From thepalace we may pass into a small garden, with a 
 casino at the end of it, brmed of an open loggia between two wings, 
 and ornamented with bavreliefs; which must have had originally an 
 elegant appearance. The \rches of the loggia are now filled up, and all 
 beauty of the composition (>stroyed ; yet you cannot regret it when you 
 enter, and contemplate on "rs ceiling, the exquisite Aurora of Guido, 
 whose dancing hours tread o lightly on the clouds, that they seem 
 quite sufficiently supported ; i\d the whole is so living and so graceful, 
 that in spite of yourself, you g&e till your neck is stiflf. 
 
 END OF 
 
 fHE yiRST VOLUME. 
 
 3 o 
 
J. M'Creery. Tocks Court, 
 Chancery-laDe, Loudon. 
 
\ 
 
 b 6 H I 
 
GETTY RESEARCH INSTITUTE 
 
 3 3125 01360 2913