"By the death of Foix, the Spanish infantry were suffered to pass off unmolested, the remainder of the army being already dispersed and put to flight, and the baggage, colours, and cannons taken. The pope's legate was also taken by the Stradiotti and carried to Federigo da Bozzolo, who made a present of him to the legate of the council. There were taken also Fabrizio Colonna, Pietro Navarra, the Marchese della Palude, the Marchese di Bitonto, and the Marchese di Pescara, with many other lords, barons, and honourable gentlemen, Spaniards and Neapolitans. Nothing is more uncertain than the number of the killed in battles; but amidst the variety of accounts it is the most common opinion that there died of both armies at least 10,000, of which a third was of the French and two-thirds of their enemies: some talk of many more, but they were without question almost all of them of the most valiant and choice soldiers, among whom, belonging to the papal forces, was Raffaello de' Pazzi, an officer of high reputation; and great numbers were wounded. But in this respect the loss of the conqueror was without comparison much the greater by the death of Foix, Yves d'Allegre, and many of the French nobility, and many other brave officers of the German infantry, by whose valour, though at vast expense of their blood, the victory was in a great measure acquired. Molard also fell with many other officers of the Gascons and Picards, which nation lost all their glory that day among the French. But their loss was exceeded by the death of Foix, with whom perished the very sinews and spirits of that army. Of the vanquished that escaped out of the field of battle the greater part fled towards Cesena, whence they continued their flight to more distant places; nor did the Viceroy stop till he came to Ancona where he arrived with a very few horse. Many were stripped and murdered in their flight; for the peasants scoured all the roads and the Duke of Urbino, who from his sending some time before Baldassare da Castiglione to the King of France, and employing some trusty persons as his agents with Foix, was supposed to have entered into a private agreement against his uncle, not only raised the country against those that fled, but sent his soldiers to intercept them in the territories of Pesaro; so that only those who took their flight through the dominions of the Florentines were by orders of the magistrates, confirmed by the republic, suffered to pass unmolested.

"The victorious army was no sooner returned to camp than the people of Ravenna sent deputies to treat of surrendering their city; but when they had agreed or were upon the point of agreement, and the inhabitants being employed in preparing provisions to be sent to the camp were negligent in guarding the walls, the German and Gascon foot entered through the breach that had been made and plundered the town in a most barbarous manner, their cruelty being exasperated not only by their natural hatred to the name of the Italians, but by a spirit of revenge for the loss they had sustained in the battle. On the fourth day after this, Marcantonio Colonna gave up the citadel, into which he had retired, on condition of safety to their persons and effects, but obliging himself on the other hand, together with the rest of the officers, not to bear arms against the King of France nor the Pisan Council till the next festival of S. Mary Magdalen; and not many days after, Bishop Vitello, who commanded in the castle with a hundred and fifty men, agreed to surrender it on terms of safety for life and goods. The cities of Imola, Forli, Cesena, and Rimini, and all the castles of the Romagna, except those of Forli and Imola, followed the fortune of the victory and were received by the legate in the name of the council."

The site of this great battle is marked by a monument, a square pilaster of marble, called the Colonna dei Francesi, adorned with bas-reliefs and inscriptions, raised in 1557 by the President of the Romagna, Pier Donato Cesi, on the right bank of the Ronco, some three miles from the city. We may recall Ariosto's verses:

"Io venni dove le campagne rosse eran del sangue barbaro e latino che fiera stella dianzi a furor mosse.

"E vidi un morto all' altro si vicino che, senza premer lor, quasi il terreno a molte miglia non dava il cammino.

"E da chi alberga fra Garonna e Reno vidi uscir crudelta, che ne dovria tutto il mondo d'orror rimaner pieno."

The League of Cambray had succeeded in breaking the real security and confidence of Venice; the death of Gaston de Foix, "the hero boy who died too soon," destroyed the energy of her ally, the French army, in Italy; and the battle of Novara, as I have said, in 1513, inducing that ally to withdraw from the peninsula, left the republic to be menaced by Cardona, who failed only to take Venice itself.

Nor was that great government more fortunate in the long struggles which followed between Francis I. and Charles V. In 1523, seeing that the French were failing, Venice came to terms with the emperor, by that time the real arbiter of Italy. In 1527, though then in alliance with pope Clement VII, she seized once more Ravenna and the Romagna, but the emperor intervened, and by the peace of Cambray in 1529, which on payment of a fine confirmed Venice in her Lombard possessions as far as the Adda, she was compelled to restore Ravenna and the Romagna to the pope.

The treaty of Cambray had so far as Ravenna was concerned a certain finality about it. Thenceforth the popes ruled the city through a cardinal legate, and an era of a certain social and artistic splendour began; the city was adorned with at least one new church, S. Maria in Porto, with many monuments and palaces, and some great public works were undertaken.

So Ravenna in the arms of the Church slumbered till, in 1797, the great soldier of the Revolution descended upon Italy in that marvellous campaign which so closely recalls the achievement of Caesar. Ravenna then became a part first of the Cispadan and later of the Cisalpine republic. Then, as we know, came the Austrians who took Ravenna from the French, but were in their turn expelled in 1800, when the city was incorporated into the short-lived kingdom of Italy. But it was again attacked by the Austrians, and later restored once again to the pope. A period of uncertainty and confusion followed in which various provisional governments were established for Ravenna, but at last in 1860 the city and its province were, by a vote of the people, included in the kingdom of United Italy.



XVIII

RENAISSANCE RAVENNA

CHURCHES AND PALACES

The period of the Renaissance which saw the papal government re-established in Ravenna in 1529, has left its mark upon the city in many a fine monument, indelibly stamped with the style of that fruitful period. Among such monuments we must note the beautiful tombs of Guidarello Guidarelli, by Tullio Lombardi, erected in 1557, now in the Accademia, and of Luffo Numai by Tommaso Flamberti in S. Francesco, erected about fifty years earlier (1509). Above all, however, must be named the great church of S. Maria in Porto (1553) and the palaces of Minzoni, Graziani, and others, with the Loggia del Giardino at S. Maria in Porto. And there is, too, the work of the painters Niccolo Rondinelli, Cotignola, Luca Longhi and his sons, Guido Reni, and others.

Later the papal government undertook many great public works. The Venetians had, as we shall see, re-fortified Ravenna; these fortifications the papal government enlarged, and in the middle of the seventeenth century undertook the digging and construction of the Canale Pamfilio, so named in honour of Innocent X., and in the following century of the Canale Corsini. These works were necessary, it is said, not only for the maritime commerce of the city, which one may think was scarcely large enough to have excused them, but for the preservation of Ravenna from inundation consequent upon the silting up of the rivers.

But the earliest work done in Ravenna after the close of the Middle Age was that undertaken by the Venetians. It was in 1457 that they began to build the really tremendous fortification or Rocca, the ruins of which we may still see. They were engaged during some ten years upon this great fortress, the master of the works being Giovanni Francesco da Massa. They employed as material the ruins of the church of S. Andrea dei Goti, built by Theodoric, which they had been compelled to destroy to make room for the fortress, as well as the materials of a palace of the Polentani. The Rocca with its great citadel played a considerable part in the battle of 1512, and the subsequent sack of the city. But when Ravenna came again into the government of the Holy See, though the fortifications of the city as a whole were enlarged, the Rocca itself soon fell into a decay and was indeed in great part destroyed in the middle of the seventeenth century, the monastery and the church of Classe being repaired and enlarged with its ruins and the Ponte Nuovo over the Fiumi Uniti, according to Dr. Ricci, being also constructed from its remains, as were other buildings in Ravenna. Then like the Rocca Malatestiana at Rimini it came to be used as a mere prison, and when it failed to prove useful for that purpose it was allowed to become the picturesque ruin we see.

Upon the Torre del Ponte of old were set two great reliefs; on high the Madonna and Child and beneath the Lion of S. Mark. The Madonna and Child, a mediocre work, remains, but when Venice was turned out of Ravenna the Lion was taken down and behind it were carved the papal arms. Both Madonna and Lion would seem to have been the work of Marino di Marco Ceprini.

Another work undertaken and achieved by the Venetians was the enlargement and the adornment of the Piazza Maggiore. There in 1483, when their work was finished, they raised two columns which still stand before the Palazzo del Comune. They stand upon circular bases in three tiers, sculptured in relief by Pietro Lombardi with the signs of the Zodiac and other symbols and ornaments. The capitals of both the columns are beautiful. Upon the northern column of old stood a statue of S. Apollinaris, the true patron of the city, while upon the southern column stood the Lion of S. Mark. But when in 1509 Ravenna came into the hands of Julius II. the Lion was removed and in 1640 the statue of S. Apollinaris from the northern column took its place, while there, where of old S. Apollinaris had stood, a statue of S. Vitalis was set as we see to-day. The Palazzo del Comune was entirely reconstructed in 1681, while the Palazzo Governativo was built in 1696 by the Cardinal Legate Francesco Barberini and the Orologio Pubblico, originally dating from 1483, was transformed, as we see it, in 1785 Of the Portico Antico I have already spoken.[1]

[Footnote 1: See supra, p. 192.]

One of the most interesting and accessible fifteenth-century houses in Ravenna is to be found in the Albergo del Cappello, with its fine original windows in the Via Rattazzi, not far from S. Domenico; it may stand as an example of many other old houses in the Via Arcivescovado, but I must especially name that beautiful Venetian house in the Via Ponte Marino—it is No. 15—the Casa Graziani with its lovely balcony, the Casa Baldim (Via Mazzini, 31) with its double loggia in the cortile, the Casa Fabbri next door (No. 33), the Casa Zirardini (Via Belle Arti, No. i), the Casa Baromo (Via Romolo Gessi, Nos. 6 and 16), and the Casa Ghigi with its lovely door and portico (No. 7 of the same street).



Undoubtedly the greatest monument which the sixteenth century has left us in Ravenna is the church of S. Maria in Porto. This was built by the Canons Regular of the Lateran, the most ancient community of canons still extant, in the year 1553, when for about fifty years they had been compelled to abandon the church of S. Maria in Porto fuori outside the city, in the marsh. They not only furnished their new church, but to a considerable extent built it, out of the materials of S. Lorenzo in Cesarea, which they thus destroyed.



S. Maria in Porto as we see it has suffered from restoration, and the facade is a work of the eighteenth century, but the church itself remains a noble sixteenth-century building divided within into three naves by huge pilasters and columns and covered at the crossing with a great octagonal cupola. There is, however, little that is very precious to be seen, a few fine marbles and the beautiful marble relief of the Madonna in prayer in the transept, called the Madonna Greca, a Byzantine work probably brought to Ravenna, according to Dr. Ricci, at the time of the crusades. It was originally in S. Maria in Porto fuori. The noble choir should also be noticed and the beautiful ciborio.

Close by the church is the Monastero of the Canons, within which there remains the lovely cloister which should be compared with those at S. Vitale and S. Giovanni Evangelista of the same period. This of S. Maria in Porto, however, is the finest, having doubled storied logge. Above all the exquisite Loggia del Giardino should not be missed. It was built in 1508, and looks on to a piece of the sixth-century wall of Ravenna.

Not far away in the Via Girotto Guaccimanni near the Hotel Byron is the church of S. Maria delle Croci, founded in the tenth century, but entirely rebuilt in the sixteenth. The rose in terracotta of the facade is a work of this time, as is the exquisite baldacchino over the high altar within, upheld by two pilasters and two columns of Greek marble. The picture, too, of the Assumption over the altar is by a master, perhaps Gaspare Sacch' of Imola, of the sixteenth century. Of the same period is the massive Porta Serrata at the north end of the Corso Garibaldi.

The best monument of later times left in Ravenna is the fine Palazzo Rasponi in Via S. Agnese (No. 2) built in or about 1700.



XIX

THE GALLERY AND THE MUSEUM

Ravenna isolated in her marsh and altogether, both geographically and politically, out of the Italian world that began to flower so wonderfully in Tuscany, then in Umbria, and later still in Venice in the fourteenth, fifteenth, and sixteenth centuries, is the last city in which to look for pictures. Nevertheless a few delightful pieces among much that is negligible are to be found in the Accademia delle Belle Arti in the Via Alfredo Baccarini. The collection was begun about 1827, and though what is to be seen there is never of the first importance it is certainly more than we had the right to expect.

The first two rooms upon the upper floor are devoted to the Romagnuol and Bolognese painters, the best of them here pupils or disciples of the one master Ravenna can boast, Niccolo Rondinelli.

We have seen Rondinelli's organ shutters in S. Domenico, here we have something better. This really fine pupil of Giovanni Bellini was born it seems in Ravenna in the middle of the fifteenth century. Vasari tells us that "there also flourished in Romagna an excellent painter called Rondinello.... Giovanni Bellini, whose disciple he had been, had availed himself to a considerable extent of his services in various works. But after Rondinello had left Giovanni Bellini he continued to practise his art and in such a manner that, being exceedingly diligent, he produced numerous works which are highly deserving of and have obtained considerable praise.... For the altar of S. Maria Maddalena in the cathedral of Ravenna this master painted a picture in oil, wherein he portrayed the figure of that saint only; but in the predella he executed three stories, the small figures of which are very gracefully depicted. In one of these is our Saviour Christ appearing to Mary Magdalen in the form of the gardener; another shows S. Peter leaving the ship and walking upon the waves of the sea, and between them is the Baptism of Christ. All these representations are executed in an exceedingly beautiful manner.[1] Rondinello likewise painted two pictures in the church of S. Giovanni Evangelista in the same city. One of these portrays the Consecration of the church by S. Giovanni[2] and the other exhibits three martyrs, S. Cancio, S. Canciano, and S. Cancianilla, all very beautiful figures.[3] For the church of S. Apollinare also in Ravenna this master painted two pictures, each containing a single figure, S. Giovanni Battista and S. Sebastiano, namely, both highly extolled.[4] There is a picture by the hand of Rondinello in the church of S. Spirito likewise; the subject, Our Lady between S. Jerome and the virgin martyr S. Catherine.[5] In S. Francesco, Rondinello painted two pictures, in one of which are S. Catherine and S. Francesco; while in the other our artist depicted the Madonna accompanied by many figures, as well as by the apostle S. James and by S. Francesco.[6] For the church of S. Domenico, Rondinello painted two pictures; one is to the left of the high altar and exhibits Our Lady with numerous figures; the other is on the fagade of the church and is very beautiful.[7] In the church of S. Niccolo, a monastery of Augustinians, this master painted a picture with S. Lorenzo and S. Francesco, a work which was most highly commended, in so much that it caused Rondinello to be held in the utmost esteem for the remainder of his life, not in Ravenna only, but in all Romagna.[8] The painter here in question lived to the age of sixty years, and was buried in S. Francesco at Ravenna."[9]

[Footnote 1: This picture would seem to be lost.]

[Footnote 2: This picture is now in the Brera at Milan, No. 452.]

[Footnote 3: This picture would seem to be lost. Milanesi says it was taken to Milan. Vas. v. 254, n. 2.]

[Footnote 4: There is a Sebastian by this master in the Duomo at Forli; the S. Giovanni panel seems to be lost.]

[Footnote 5: This is now in the Accademia of Ravenna, No. 6.]

[Footnote 6: This would seem to have disappeared; but cf. Brera, 455.]

[Footnote 7: The first of these remains in S. Domenico, the other is, I think, now in the Accademia, No. 7.]

[Footnote 8: This picture, too, seems to be lost.]

[Footnote 9: Vasari (trs. Foster), vol. III. pp 382-384.]

In another place, Vasari tells us that the pupil who copied Giovanni Bellini most closely and did him most honour was "Rondinello of Ravenna, of whose aid the master availed himself much in all his works.... Rondinello painted his best work for the church of S. Giovanni Battista in Ravenna. The church belongs to the Carmelite Friars and in the painting, besides a figure of Our Lady, Rondinello depicted that of S. Alberto, a brother of their order;[10] the head of the saint is extremely beautiful, and the whole work very highly commended."[11]

[Footnote 10: Now in the Accademia, unnumbered; it represents the Madonna between S. Alberto and S. Sebastian.]

[Footnote 11: Vasari (trs. Foster), vol. II. pp. 171-172.]

Of all the works thus named by Vasari as painted by Rondinelli in Ravenna only four remain, three in the Accademia and one in S. Domenico. I have already spoken of the tempera pieces in S. Domenico.[12] Of the three pieces in the Accademia, the Madonna and Child between S. Catherine and S. Jerome (No. 6) comes from S. Spirito; the Madonna and Child between SS. Catherine, Mary Magdalen, John Baptist, and Thomas Aquinas comes from S. Domenico, and is, I am convinced, the picture spoken of by Vasari rather than the sixteenth-century work that still hangs there, which is, according to Dr. Ricci, perhaps the mediocre work of Ragazzini. The third picture by Rondinelli in the Accademia, the Madonna and Child between S. Alberto and S. Sebastian, comes from the church of the Carmelites, S. Giovanni Battista.

[Footnote 12: See supra, p. 246.]

Beside these three fine works of Rondinelli hangs the work of a man he strongly influenced, Francesco Zaganelli da Cotignola. When Vasari tells us that Rondinelli was buried in S. Francesco at Ravenna, he goes on to say that "after him came Francesco da Cotignola, who was also greatly esteemed in that city and painted numerous pictures there. On the high altar of the church which belongs to the Abbey of Classe, for example, there is one from his hand of tolerably large size, representing the Raising of Lazarus with many figures[1]. Opposite to this work in the year 1548 Giorgio Vasari painted another for Don Romualdo da Verona, the abbot of that place. This represents a Deposition of Christ from the Cross, and has also a large number of figures[2]. Francesco Cotignola painted a picture in S. Niccolo, likewise a very large one, the subject of which is the Birth of Christ, with two in S. Sebastiano exhibiting numerous figures[3]. For the hospital of S. Caterina, Francesco painted a picture of Our Lady, S. Caterina, and many other figures[4]; and in S. Agata, he painted a figure of our Saviour Christ on the Cross, the Madonna being at the foot thereof, with a considerable number of other figures; this work also has received commendation[5]. In the church of S. Apollinare in the same city are three pictures by this artist, one at the high altar with Our Lady, S. Giovanni Battista, S. Apollinare, S. Jerome, and other saints; in the second is also the Madonna with S. Peter and S. Catherine[6]; and in the third and last is Jesus Christ bearing his Cross, but this Francesco could not finish having been overtaken by death before its completion[7]. Francesco coloured in a very pleasing manner, but had not such power of design as Rondinello; he was nevertheless held in great account by the people of Ravenna. It was his desire to be buried in S. Apollinare, where he had painted certain figures, as we have said, wishing that in the place where he had lived and laboured his remains might find their repose after his death."

[Footnote 1: This is in the ex-church of S. Romuald in Classe in the sacristy, now part of the Museo]

[Footnote 2: This is now in the Accademia, No 40]

[Footnote 3: The first of these is in the Accademia (No. 10), as I suppose are the two other undescribed pictures]

[Footnote 4: Is this a Marriage of S. Catherine in S. Girolamo in Ravenna?]

[Footnote 5: Now in the Accademia, No 13.]

[Footnote 6: Of these I know nothing]

[Footnote 7: Now in the canonica of S. Croce in Ravenna]

To-day in Ravenna there remain the three works described by Vasari, one in the ex-church S. Romualdo di Classe, the other, as I think, once in the Hospital of S. Catherine and now in S. Girolamo, and another at S. Croce. In the Accademia there are nine of his works, of which the S. Niccolo Presepio (No. 10) and the S. Agata Crucifixion (No. 13) are the better. A S. Sebastian (No. 12) and a S. Catherine (No. 11) should also be noticed. By his brother and assistant, Bernardino, there is one picture in the Accademia, the Agony in the Garden (No. 194).

Another master of the Romagnuol school, Marco Palmezzano, the pupil of Melozza da Forli, a contemporary of Rondinelli, who influenced him to some small extent, is represented in the Accademia by two works in Sala II., the Nativity and the Presentation of the Blessed Virgin (Nos. 189 and 190); in the Vescovado there is a Madonna and Child with four saints from his hand. Vasari says nothing of him, but only mentions his name, yet he has a good deal to tell us of perhaps a lesser man, Luca Longhi (1507-1580), who was born in Ravenna.

"Maestro Luca de' Longhi of Ravenna," he says, "a man of studious habits and quiet reserved character, has painted many beautiful pictures in oil, with numerous portraits from the life in his native city and its neighbourhood. Among other productions of Longhi are two sufficiently graceful little pictures which the reverend Don Antonio da Pisa, then abbot of the monastery, caused him to paint no long time since for the monks of Classe; many other works have also been executed by this painter. It is certain that Luca Longhi, being studious, diligent, and of admirable judgment as he is, would have become an excellent master had he not always confined himself to Ravenna where he still remains with his family; his works are accomplished with much patience and study; and of this I can bear testimony since I know the progress which he made during the time of my stay in Ravenna both in the practise and comprehension of art. Nor will I omit to mention that a daughter of his, called Barbara, still but a little child, draws very well and has begun to paint also in a very good manner and with much grace."

There are five pictures by Luca Longhi in the Accademia besides three portraits. In Sala I. we have an early work painted at the age of twenty-two, the Marriage of S. Catherine (No. 14); a Madonna and Child with S. Benedict, S. Apollinaris, S. Barbara, and S. Paul (No. 23). In Sala II. the Dead Christ between S. Bartholomew and Don Antonio da Pisa, abbot of the monastery of Classe (No. 17), and two pictures of the Adoration of the Shepherds (Nos. 15, 16). Here, too, are the three portraits from his hand which represent Raffaele Rasponi (No. 22), Giovanni Arrigoni (No. 21), and Girolamo Rossi (No. 20). By Luca's son Francesco there is a feeble Crucifixion (No. 29) in Sala I.;[1] and happily in Sala II. three pictures by Barbara, Luca's daughter, of whom Vasari speaks; a S. Catherine, which is really a portrait of the painter (No. 81), a Madonna and Child (No. 27), and a Judith (No. 28).[2]

[Footnote 1: There is another work, an Annunciation, by Francesco Longhi in S. Croce.]

[Footnote 2: Another work by Barbara Longhi, S. Peter visiting S. Agata in Prison, may be seen in S. Maria Maggiore.]

Only one picture by a Bolognese master is really worthy of much notice here; I mean the S. Romuald of Guercino (No. 33) in Sala I. In the floor of this first room there is set a fine mosaic from S. Apollinare in Classe which should be noted.

The third room in the Accademia, filled with various works of little merit of the sundry schools of Italy, may be neglected. The fourth room, however, is devoted to the beautiful tomb of Guidarello Guidarelli, the very glorious work of Tullio Lombardi. Of old this exquisite tomb stood in the Cappella Braccioforte at S. Francesco. Guidarello of Ravenna was killed in battle at Imola in 1501, and Tullio Lombardi, the son of Pietro, was employed to make his tomb. "I doubt," says M. de Vogue, "whether, apart from the work of Donatello, the early Renaissance produced anything more beautiful." Guidarello the knight is represented in marble, a life-size figure, lying on his back, his body encased in armour, his helmet on his head, his visor raised, his gloved hands crossed over his sword which lies along his body. He seems, weary of fighting at last, to be sleeping, but the sweet expression upon the tired face makes us think rather of a monk than a soldier. In truth he was a knight of the olden time.

We leave the room in which he sleeps for ever in his marble, reluctantly, and, passing Sala V., which is full of late pictures of no interest, come to Sala VI. where there are several delightful early Italian works. One would not certainly expect to find in Ravenna a picture of the most exquisite school in Tuscany, the school of Siena. Yet here is a delightful Madonna and Child with S. Peter and S. Barbara (No. 191) by Matteo di Giovanni (1435-1495); and a fourteenth-century Annunciation (No. 176) from Tuscany. In the Crucifixion (No. 225) we seem to have an early Venetian work, and another Crucifixion (No. 181) might almost be from the hand of Lorenzo Monaco. It is probable that we see a work of Antonio da Fabriano in the S. Peter Damiano (No. 188), and certainly an Umbrian work in the S. Francis receiving the Stigmata (216). But the most remarkable Umbrian picture here is the Christ with the Cross between two angels (No. 202), the work of Niccolo da Foligno. A few early works by the mediocre masters of the Romagnuol school (Nos. 174, 171, 172, 182) are to be seen here also.

Sala VI. is entirely devoted to an immense number of pictures in the Byzantine manner, of considerable interest and much beauty, but not yet to be discussed.

We leave the Accademia for the Museo close by. The building in which the collections are housed is the old Camaldulensian monastery of Classe built in 1515 by the monks of S. Apollinare in Classe, and since S. Romuald, the founder of the order, was a Ravennese one may think the monastery might have been left in the hands of the monks. Even as it is it has considerably more interest for us than the collections gathered within it. The beautiful seventeenth-century cloisters, the old convent church of S. Romualdo in the baroque style of 1630, and the convent itself are delightful. The collections are mediocre. But here we may see all that is to be seen of the Ravenna of Augustus and of the great years of the empire, fragments and inscriptions and reliefs now and then of real interest, as in the relief representing the Apotheosis of Augustus, in the eastern walk of the cloisters, and in the remains of that suit of gold armour thought to be Theodoric's in the old sacristy. But for the most part the collection is without much attraction, yet certainly not to remain unvisited.



XX

THE PINETA

Ravenna has so much that is rare and precious to show us that few among the many who spend a day or two within her walls have the inclination to explore the melancholy marshes in which she stands. No doubt most of us drive out to S. Apollinare in Classe, but the road thither does not encourage a further journey, for it is rude and rough and the country over which it passes is among the most featureless in Italy. Nevertheless he does himself a wrong who leaves Ravenna for good without having spent one day at any rate in the Pineta which, ruined though it now be, is still one of the loveliest and most mysterious places in the Romagna.

But lovely though it is, and full of memories, what can be said of this vast ruined forest of stone pines with its mystery of mere and fen, its coolness and shadow, its astonishing silence? Only this I think, that if once you find it, nothing else in Ravenna will seem half so precious as this green wood. You will love it always and for its own sake more than anything else in Ravenna, and in this you will not be alone; every one who has come to it these thousand years has felt the same, Dante, Boccaccio, Byron, Carducci, the Pineta knows the footsteps of them all and they seem to haunt it still.

Dante would seem to have loved it best in the morning; out of it he conjures his Paradiso Terrestre in the twenty-eighth canto of the Purgatorio:

"Through that celestial forest, whose thick shade With lively greenness the new-springing day Attemper'd, eager now to roam, and search Its limits round, forthwith I left the bank; Along the champain leisurely my way Pursuing, o'er the ground, that on all sides Delicious odour breathed. A pleasant air That intermitted never, never veer'd, Smote on my temples, gently as a wind Of softest influence, at which the sprays, Obedient all, lean'd trembling to that part Where first the holy mountain casts his shade, Yet were not so disordered, but that still Upon their top the feathered quiristers Applied their wonted art, and with full joy Welcomed those hours of prime, and warbled shrill Amid the leaves that to their jocund lays Kept tenour; even as from branch to branch Along the piny forests on the shore Of Chiassi rolls the gathering melody When Eolus hath from his cavern loosed The dripping south. Already had my steps, Though slow, so far into that ancient wood Transported me, I could not ken the place Where I had entered; when, behold, my path Was bounded by a rill which to the left With little rippling waters bent the grass That issued from its brink. On earth no wave How clear so'er that would not seem to have Some mixture in itself, compared with this Transpicuous clear; yet darkly on it rolled, Darkly beneath perpetual gloom, which ne'er Admits or sun or moon-light there to shine."

Well, is not it the very place? And did not Dante, who knew Italy as few have known it, do well to remember it when he would describe for us the Earthly Paradise? In the forest the morning is sacred to him and there one should turn, with less misunderstanding than anywhere else, the precious pages of that poem which is in itself a universe.

But if the clear morning there is Dante's, when we may still hear the voice he heard pass by there, in the stillness, singing, Beati quorum tecta sunt peccata, the long noon belongs to Boccaccio, for it is full of the most tragic and pitiful of his tales.



"Ravenna being a very ancient City in Romania, there dwelt sometime a great number of worthy Gentlemen, among whom I am to speake of one more especially, named Anastasio, descended from the Family of the Honesti, who by the death of his Father, and an Unckle of his, was left extraordinarily abounding in riches, and growing to yeares fitting for marriage, (as young Gallants are easily apt enough to do) he became enamored of a very bountifull Gentlewoman, who was Daughter to Signior Paulo Traversario, one of the most ancient and noble Families in all the Countrey. Nor made he any doubt, but by his meanes and industrious endeavour, to derive affection from her againe; for he carried himselfe like a brave-minded Gentleman, liberall in his expences, honest and affable in all his actions, which commonly are the true notes of a good nature, and highly to be commended in any man. But, howsoever Fortune became his enemy, these laudable parts of manhood did not any way friend him, but rather appeared hurtfull to himselfe: so cruell, unkind, and almost meerely savage did she shew her self to him; perhaps in pride of her singular beauty, or presuming on her nobility by birth, both which are rather blemishes, then ornaments in a woman, especially when they be abused.

"The harsh and uncivill usage in her, grew very distastefull to Anastasio, and so unsufferable, that after a long time of fruitlesse service, requited still with nothing but coy disdaine; desperate resolutions entred into his brain, and often he was minded to kill himselfe. But better thoughts supplanting those furious passions, he abstained from any such violent act; and governed by more manly consideration, determined, that as shee hated him, he would requite her with the like, if he could: wherein he became altogether deceived, because as his hopes grew to a dayly decaying, yet his love enlarged it selfe more and more.

"Thus Anastasio persevering still in his bootlesse affection, and his expences not limited within any compasse; it appeared in the judgement of his Kindred and Friends, that he was falne into a mighty consumption, both of his body and meanes. In which respect, many times they advised him to leave the City of Ravenna, and live in some other place for such a while; as might set a more moderate stint upon his spendings, and bridle the indiscreete course of his love, the onely fuell which fed this furious fire.

"Anastasio held out thus a long time, without lending an eare to such friendly counsell: but in the end, he was so neerely followed by them, as being no longer able to deny them, he promised to accomplish their request. Whereupon, making such extraordinary preparation, as if he were to set thence for France or Spaine, or else into some further distant countrey: he mounted on horsebacke, and accompanied with some few of his familiar friends, departed from Ravenna, and rode to a countrey dwelling house of his owne, about three or foure miles distant from the Cittie, which was called Chiasso, and there (upon a very goodly greene) erecting divers Tents and Pavillions, such as great persons make use of in the time of a Progresse: he said to his friends, which came with him thither, that there he determined to make his abiding, they all returning backe unto Ravenna, and might come to visite him againe so often as they pleased.

"Now, it came to passe, that about the beginning of May, it being then a very milde and serrene season, and he leading there a much more magnificent life, then ever hee had done before, inviting divers to dine with him this day, and as many to morrow, and not to leave him till after supper: upon the sodaine, falling into remembrance of his cruell Mistris, hee commanded all his servants to forbeare his company, and suffer him to walke alone by himselfe awhile, because he had occasion of private meditations, wherein he would not (by any meanes) be troubled. It was then about the ninth houre of the day, and he walking on solitary all alone, having gone some halfe miles distance from his Tents, entred into a Grove of Pine-trees, never minding dinner time, or any thing else, but onely the unkind requitall of his love.

"Sodainly he heard the voice of a woman, seeming to make most mournfull complaints, which breaking off his silent considerations, made him to lift up his head, to know the reason of this noise. When he saw himselfe so farre entred into the Grove, before he could imagine where he was; hee looked amazedly round about him, and out of a little thicket of bushes and briars, round engirt with spreading trees, hee espyed a young Damosell come running towards him, naked from the middle upward, her haire dishevelled on her shoulders, and her faire skinne rent and torne with the briars and brambles, so that the blood ran trickling downe mainely; she weeping, wringing her hands, and crying out for mercy so lowde as she could. Two fierce Blood-hounds also followed swiftly after, and where their teeth tooke hold, did most cruelly bite her. Last of all (mounted on a lusty blacke Courser) came galloping a Knight, with a very sterne and angry countenance, holding a drawne short Sword in his hand, giving her very vile and dreadful speeches, and threatning every minute to kill her.

"This strange and uncouth sight, bred in him no meane admiration, as also kinde compassion to the unfortunate woman; out of which compassion, sprung an earnest desire, to deliver her (if he could) from a death so full of anguish and horror: but seeing himselfe to be without Armes, he ran and pluckt up the plant of a Tree, which handling as if it had bene a staffe, he opposed himselfe against the Dogges and the Knight, who seeing him comming, cryed out in this manner to him. Anastasio, put not thy selfe in any opposition, but referre to my Hounds and me, to punish this wicked woman as she hath justly deserved. And in speaking these words, the Hounds tooke fast hold on her body, so staying her, untill the Knight was come neerer to her, and alighted from his horse: when Anastasio (after some other angry speeches) spake thus unto him: I cannot tell what or who thou art, albeit thou takest such knowledge of me, yet I must say, that it is meere cowardize in a Knight, being armed as thou art, to offer to kill a naked woman, and make thy dogges thus to seize on her, as if she were a savage beast; therefore beleeve me, I will defend her so farre as I am able.

"Anastasio, answered the Knight, I am of the same City as thou art, and do well remember, that thou wast a little Ladde, when I (who was then named Guido Anastasio, and thine Unckle) became as intirely in love with this woman, as now thou art of Paulo Traversarioes daughter. But through her coy disdaine and cruelty, such was my heavy fate, that desperately I slew my selfe with this short sword which thou beholdest in mine hand: for which rash sinfull deede, I was, and am condemned to eternall punishment. This wicked woman, rejoycing immeasurably in mine unhappy death, remained no long time alive after me, and for her mercilesse sinne of cruelty, and taking pleasure in my oppressing torments; dying unrepentant, and in pride of her scorne, she had the like sentence of condemnation pronounced on her, and sent to the same place where I was tormented.

"There the three impartiall Judges, imposed this further infliction on us both; namely, that she should flye in this manner before me, and I (who loved her so deerely while I lived) must pursue her as my deadly enemy, not like a woman that had a taste of love in her. And so often as I can overtake her, I am to kill her with this sword, the same Weapon wherewith I slew my selfe. Then am I enjoyned, therewith to open her accursed body, and teare out her hard and frozen heart, with her other inwards, as now thou seest me doe, which I give unto my Hounds to feede on. Afterward, such is the appointment of the supreame powers, that she reassumeth life againe, even as if she had not bene dead at all, and falling to the same kinde of flight, I with my Hounds am still to follow her; without any respite or intermission. Every Friday, and just at this houre, our course is this way, where she suffereth the just punishment inflicted on her. Nor do we rest any of the other dayes, but are appointed unto other places, where she cruelly executed her malice against me, being now (of her deare affectionate friend) ordained to be her endlesse enemy, and to pursue her in this manner for so many yeares, as she exercised moneths of cruelty towards me. Hinder me not then, in being the executioner of divine justice; for all thy interposition is but in vaine, in seeking to crosse the appointment of supreame powers.

"Anastasio having attentively heard all this discourse, his haire stood upright like Porcupines quils, and his soule was so shaken with the terror, that he stept backe to suffer the Knight to do what he was enjoyned, looking yet with milde commisseration on the poore woman. Who kneeling most humbly before the Knight, and stearnely seized on by the two blood-hounds, he opened her brest with his weapon, drawing foorth her heart and bowels, which instantly he threw to the dogges, and they devoured them very greedily. Soone after, the Damosell (as if none of this punishment had bene inflicted on her) started up sodainly, running amaine towards the Sea shore, and the Hounds swiftly following her, as the Knight did the like, after he had taken his sword, and was mounted on horse-backe; so that Anastasio had soone lost all sight of them, and could not gesse what was become of them.

"After he had heard and observed all these things, he stoode a while as confounded with feare and pitty, like a simple silly man, hoodwinkt with his owne passions, not knowing the subtle enemies cunning illusions in offering false suggestions to the sight, to worke his owne ends thereby, and encrease the number of his deceived servants. Forthwith he perswaded himselfe, that he might make good use of this womans tormenting, so justly imposed on the Knight to prosecute, if thus it should continue still every Friday. Wherefore, setting a good note or marke upon the place, he returned backe to his owne people, and at such time as he thought convenient, sent for divers of his kindred and friends from Ravenna, who being present with him, thus he spake to them.

"Deare Kinsmen and Friends, ye have a long while importuned me, to discontinue my over-doating love to her, whom you all thinke, and I find to be my mortall enemy: as also, to give over my lavish expences, wherein I confesse my selfe too prodigall; both which requests of yours, I will condiscend to, provided, that you will performe one gracious favour for me; Namely, that on Friday next, Signior Paulo Traversario, his wife, daughter, with all other women linked in linage to them, and such beside onely as you shall please to appoint, will vouchsafe to accept a dinner heere with me; as for the reason thereto mooving me, you shall then more at large be acquainted withall. This appeared no difficult matter for them to accomplish: wherefore, being returned to Ravenna, and as they found the time answerable to their purpose, they invited such as Anastasio had appointed them. And although they found it some-what an hard matter, to gaine her company whom he so deerely affected; yet notwithstanding, the other women won her along with them.

"A most magnificent dinner had Anastasio provided, and the tables were covered under the Pine-trees, where he saw the cruell Lady so pursued and slaine: directing the guests so in their seating, that the yong Gentlewoman his unkinde Mistresse, sate with her face opposite unto the place, where the dismall spectacle was to be seen. About the closing up of dinner, they beganne to heare the noise of the poore prosecuted Woman, which drove them all to much admiration; desiring to know what it was, and no one resolving them, they arose from the Tables, and looking directly as the noise came to them, they espyed the wofull Woman, the Dogges eagerly pursuing her; and the armed Knight on horsebacke, gallopping fiercely after them with his drawne weapon, and came very nere unto the company, who cryed out with lowd exclaimes against the dogs and the Knight, stepping forth in assistance of the injured woman.

"The Knight spake unto them, as formerly he had done to Anastasio, (which made them draw backe, possessed with feare and admiration) acting the same cruelty as he did the Friday before, not differing in the least degree. Most of the Gentlewomen there present, being neere allyed to the unfortunate Woman, and likewise to the Knight, remembring well both his love and death, did shed teares as plentifully, as if it had bin to the very persons themselves, in usuall performance of the action indeede. Which tragicall Scoene being passed over, and the Woman and Knight gone out of their sight: all that had seene this straunge accident, fell into diversity of confused opinions, yet not daring to disclose them, as doubting some further danger to ensue thereon.

"But beyond all the rest, none could compare in feare and astonishment with the cruell yong Maide affected by Anastasio, who both saw and observed all with a more inward apprehension, knowing very well, that the morall of this dismall spectacle, carried a much neerer application to her then any other in all the company. For now she could call to mind, how unkinde and cruell she had shewne her selfe to Anastasio, even as the other Gentlewoman formerly did to her Lover, still flying from him in great contempt and scorne: for which, she thought the Blood-hounds also pursued her at the heeles already, and a sword of vengeance to mangle her body. This feare grew so powerfull in her, that to prevent the like heavy doome from falling on her, she studied (by all her best and commendable meanes, and therein bestowed all the night season) how to change her hatred into kinde love, which at the length she fully obtained, and then purposed to prosecute in this manner.

"Secretly she sent a faithfull Chamber-maide of her owne, to greete Anastasio on her behalfe; humbly entreating him to come see her: because now she was absolutely determined, to give him satisfaction in all which (with honour) he could request of her. Whereto Anastasio answered, that he accepted her message thankfully, and desired no other favour at her hand, but that which stood with her owne offer, namely, to be his Wife in honourable marriage. The Maide knowing sufficiently, that he could not be more desirous of the match, then her Mistresse shewed her selfe to be, made answer in her name, that this motion would be most welcome to her.

"Heereupon, the Gentlewoman her selfe, became the solicitour to her Father and Mother, telling them plainly, that she was willing to be the Wife of Anastasio: which newes did so highly content them, that upon the Sunday next following, the marriage was very worthily solemnized, and they lived and loved together very kindly. Thus the divine bounty, out of the malignant enemies secret machinations, can cause good effects to arise and succeede. For, from this conceite of fearfull imagination in her, not onely happened this long desired conversion, of a Maide so obstinately scornfull and proud; but likewise all the women of Ravenna (being admonished by her example) grew afterward more kind and tractable to mens honest motions, then ever they shewed themselves before. And let me make some use hereof (faire Ladies) to you, not to stand over-nicely conceited of your beauty and good parts, when men (growing enamored of you by them) solicite you with their best and humblest services. Remember then this disdainfull Gentlewoman, but more especially her, who being the death of so kinde a Lover, was therefore condemned to perpetuall punishment, and he made the minister thereof, whom she had cast off with coy disdaine, from which I wish your minds to be as free, as mine is ready to do you any acceptable service."[1]

[Footnote 1: This translation is from the English version of The Decameron, first published in 1620, but in 1569 had appeared A Notable Historye of Nastagto and Traversan, or rhymed version of Boccaccio's tale, by C.T., usually supposed to be Christopher Tye the musician. Dryden used this story for his fable Theodore and Honoria. It is curious to note that Anita, Garibaldi's wife, was actually hunted to death here in the Pineta by the Austrians.]

To Dante and to Boccaccio belong of right morning and noon in the Pineta; but the evening is ours for it belongs to Byron:

"Sweet hour of twilight' in the solitude Of the pine forest, and the silent shore Which bounds Ravenna's immemorial wood, Rooted where once the Adrian wave flowed o'er, To where the last Caesarean fortress stood, Evergreen forest I which Boccaccio's lore And Dryden's lay made haunted ground to me How have I loved the twilight hour and thee;

"The shrill cicalas, people of the pine, Making their summer lives one ceaseless song, Were the sole echoes, save my steed's and mine, And vesper bells that rose the boughs along, The spectre huntsman of Onesti's line, His hell-dogs, and their chase, and the fair throng Which learn'd from this example not to fly From a true lover—shadow'd my mind's eye

"Soft hour! which wakes the wish and melts the heart Of those who sail the seas, on the first day When they from their sweet friends are torn apart. Or fills with love the pilgrim on his way As the far bell of vesper makes him start, Seeming to weep the dying day's decay, Is this a fancy which our reason scorns? Ah, surely nothing dies but something mourns!"

That "sweet hour of twilight" in the Pineta is the most precious hour of the day, when far off across the marsh softly, softly comes the Ave Maria....

"_O tu rinnovellata itala gente da le molte vite rendi la voce

"de ta preghiera, la campana squilli ammonitrice, il campanil risorto canti di clivo in clivo a la campagna Ave Maria.

"Ave Maria! Quando su l'aure corre l'umil saluto, i piccioh mortali scovrono il capo, curvano la fronte Dante ed Aroldo_"

THE END