Pictures in Umbria
tside the Porta, and curves along the side of the hill below the old wall. The bank, this fine morning, was gay with butterflies and wild flowers, and wreathed wit
WAY
ON, P
ranches of quaint trees met each other. From the Italian custom of constantly stripping the leaves to provide fodder, the foliage was scanty, yet w
them; in this lane the gnarled and twisted branches looked grotesque. A man high up in one of the
rsed by a bar of golden light; this sometimes came in irregular fl
w with glowing black eyes, wished us a good journey. He was going at such a pace that he must have been bound for the station; usually the easy, leisureful movements of
work, scrubbing and soaping linen. Looking back up the lane we saw the grey town peeping a
NA BO
de PE
een with age, and from the constant drip, drip of the water. To-day the fountain was surrounded with wine carts, each drawn by a pair of huge white oxen. It is fortunate these beautiful creatures are so gentle, for their wide-spreading, sharply pointed horns make them formidable; indeed, when the wine season began, durin
stayed several times in the town, and to-day when she appeared at the station all the officials were
vanced guard the spire of San Pietro, and on a spur to the west Santa Giuliana; but the city is not so picturesque from this point, because one sees the modern buildings on the great Piazza
close to the church of Santa Maria degli Angeli; but we were bound for Foligno, and did not stop here to-d
er this, the valley broadened out into a plain, so that Foligno stands tamely on level ground. It do
native of Foligno, to the Piazza. We were hardly out of our vehicle when up rushed a wretched-looking man, his bare chest showing red and hairy through the opening of his dirty
and our time was short, we subm
an eagle in its mouth. Above the doorway is a curious sort of arcade; the door-heading itself has been recently restored with the emblems of t
an ante-chapel to see the frescoes of Ottaviano Nelli. We went on into the little chapel; here the frescoes have been
Alunno; the figure of San Joseph is very fine. One of the statues in front of the choir, a female saint, has her feet bound with brass; the sacristan told us that this had been done to preserve them from the devotion of worshippers who had already kis
picturesquely placed little town, with many good pictures by Umbr
etween vineyards and olive groves, eating our luncheon on the way. Spello looked very attractive as we appr
wn, and the ancient walls and some of the gates have been preserved. This gate has three figures outside it, a pictur
ENERIS,
llars are in pairs; in front of two of them the artist has introduced portraits of himself and his wife; beyond, right and left, are Madonnas by Perugino. The sacristan told us that there is a still finer specimen of the sculptor Rocca di Vicenza's work at Trevi. On the opposite side of the church is the Capella del Sacramento, the work of Pinturicchio; three of the walls and
CCHIO,
ia. In the sacristy is a beautiful Madonna by this painter. The mortuary chapel has a quaint pair of doors in perforated wood-work; near the west door we saw a
urch of San Andrea. She, however, being busy, handed us over to a young fellow with a face as lovely as Raffaelle's, and
best part of the altar picture, the child San John the Baptist, who sits writing on his scroll at the feet of the Blessed Virgin. This figure is supposed to be Raffaelle's work. St. Francis and St. Lawrence are on on
t for, in order to remove them, the arcade was brought to light. The priest also showed us a fresco on the wall of the nave, and graphically related how he himself, only a few months before, had discovered it under the whitewash when the church was being cleaned for a festa. Who
, and he may not live in the convent, he may only come up in the afternoon, and see the schoolboys play in the garden." There is a pathetic look about the deserted, peaceful old place. From the platform in f
pello; not so perfect as that at Fiesole, but with clearl
of these breaks in the wall a group of peasants sat, some spinning, some idling, beneath a vine that stretched on a trellis from house to house, the light filtering through
der-like street; she was spinning from a distaff in her hand
he prompt answer, and the old dam
UGUSTA,
in the air, the houses nestling here an
asant days in such an exquisitely placed spot; but we could not spy out any possible lo
put her handkerchief to her eyes; we fancied she was affected by some deep sorrow, and felt sympathy for her. The train presently stopped at a sta
howled with anguish; then, burying her face in her han
and. Seeing we were interested, she sat up, pocketed her handkerchief, and explained. "The officials have taken my dog from me, and have shut it
ng much ashamed of himself. When he came bac
l right, cara
ed all the way to Perugia, where we left her on the platform with her