Prato

“ As a whole the town has a somewhat modern aspect. The industries of Prato embrace the manufacture of woollens (the most important) , straw-plaiting, biscuits, hats, macaroni, candles, silk, olive oil, clothing and furniture, also copper and iron works, and printing.
Prato is said to be first mentioned by name in 1107, but the cathedral appears as early as 1048 as the parish church of Borgo Cornio or Santo Stefano. It was subject to the Alberti until 1180, and was then under the Imperial supremacy. It appears to have freed itself from this at the end of the 13th century. ”

“ Those who cannot read it must fall back on the charming and delightful book by Miss Noyes, The Casentino and its Story: Dent, 1905. It is too good a book to be left useless in its heavy bulky form. Perhaps Miss Noyes will give us a pocket edition.
385 XXVII. PRATO
Prato is like a flower that has fallen by the wayside that has faded in the dust of the way. She is a little rosy city, scarcely more than a castello, full of ruined churches; and in the churches are ruined frescoes, ruined statues, broken pillars, spoiled altars. ”

“ After all that long array of living actors, the introduction of any effigy, however perfect, must create a disillusion. And this one is far from perfect—far more suggestive of the Prado than of Calvary. The dead on the catafalque is appropriately represented by the inanimate; but when knights, soldiers, lictors, centurions, are moving, breathing flesh and blood, its application to the equally living Mother is a violent incongruity. The action has been too intensely vitalized to assimilate a counterfeit vitality, however sacred its significance.
"But what then?" asks the genius of Prato. ”

“ We had a drive of fourteen miles through hills and villages, and castellated villas with gardens shut in by formidably high walls—always, a charm: a garden should always have something of the jealous seclusion of a harem. I am getting Italian landscape into my system, and enjoy it more and more.
Prato is a little cathedral town, very like the narrow and tumble-down parts of Florence, only more so. The streets were a seething caldron of cattle-market when we entered, which made us feel like a tea-cup in a bull-ring (or is it thunderstorm?) ”

“ He would also enjoy the hospitality, for which the city was noted when Florentine nobles made Prato their frequent residence and enriched their palaces there with every form of art and luxury, for which that time was celebrated. Prato, we find, has her tradition honouring her above all other cities in the world, and about which centres much of her importance [60] in art. ”

“ Continuing our way, we came, after riding ten miles, to Prato in time for dinner. This small town, belonging to the Duke of Florence, is situated on the river Bisenzio, which we crossed by a stone bridge at the entry to the town. In no other country are the bridges so numerous or so well maintained; moreover, along the highways we frequently saw large stone pillars inscribed with notices as to what State was responsible for the repair of the roads. At Prato, in the palace, we saw the name and the arms of the Legate Du Prat,32 who was, as they told us, a native of this place. ”

“ SANTA GIUSTINA.
Of all the tragic episodes connected with the Prato, there is none that contains such elements of warm vital interest or extorts from us such sorrowful sympathy as the history of Francesco, the last of the Carraras. The old Italian chronicles are written with such sublime and pathetic simplicity that human life after centuries rises up before us with all its warm joys and sorrows, delights [Pg 286] and agonies. ”

“ In the old Pieve of the territory of Prato, under the altar of the principal chapel, there had been kept for many years the Girdle of Our Lady, which Michele da Prato, returning from the Holy Land, had brought to his country in the year 1141 and consigned to Uberto, Provost of that church, who placed it where it has been said, and where it had been ever held in great veneration ”

“ We followed the crowd along the white-walled street to the great market-square the people call the Prato della Valle. In the middle was a circular space of meadow, with trees above it, surrounded by a moat, above which stand life-size statues of warriors and poets and nobles and philosophers, blackened with the damp and mould of centuries, the folds of their gowns battered and grass-grown, their noses missing, their eyes put out by stones in the well-nerved hands of riotous youth, their swords and sceptres broken short, their pointed beards snapped off into bluntness. ”

“ Rejoice, Florence, since thou art so great that over sea and land thou beatest thy wings, and thy name is spread through Hell. Among the thieves I found five such, thy citizens, whereat shame comes to me, and thou unto great honor risest not thereby. But, if near the morning one dreams the truth, thou shalt feel within little time what Prato, as well as others, craves for thee. [1] And if now it were, it would not be too soon. Would that it were so! since surely it must be; for the more it will weigh on me the more I age. ”

“ For Prato was the scene of the great romance of Fra Filippo's life, by which his name has become familiar even to those who [45] know little of, and care less about, his artistic achievement. The abduction of the nun, Lucrezia Buti, by the amorous monk, who was then entering upon the sixth decade of his life, is on the whole correctly recorded by Vasari, and has formed the subject of many a literary romance and pictorial rendering. ”

“ The Madonna del Buon Consiglio has some good reliefs by Andrea della Robbia, by whom is also the beautiful frieze in the Madonna delle Carceri. This church, by Giuliano da Sangallo (1485–1491) , is a Greek cross, with barrel vaults over the arms, and a dome; it is a fine work, and the decoration of the exterior in marble of different colours (unfinished) is of a noble simplicity. Some remains exist of the 13th-century fortress, and the large Piazza Mercatale is picturesque. The works of art visible in Prato are due, as will be seen, entirely to Florentine artists. ”

“ He came from the district of Prato, and had been an apothecary in the town there. Every evening he minutely examined the holdfasts of the hinges and the whole chamber, and I used to say: "Keep a good watch over me, for I am resolved by all means to escape." These words bred a great enmity between him and me, so that I was obliged to use precautions to conceal my tools, that is to say, my pincers and a great big poniard and other appurtenances. All these I put away together in my mattress, where I also kept the strips of linen I had made. When day broke, I used immediately to sweep my room out ”

“ Wine Jar, 82
FOOTNOTES:
[1] E. Armstrong, M.A., Lorenzo de' Medici, p. 437. B. Berenson, The Study and Criticism of Italian Art. Second series. "A Word for Renaissance Churches."
[2] The quarries of serpentine (verde di Prato) near Prato have been worked from a very early period. Their present output is valued at £1,000 per annum.—From The British Diplomatic and Consular Report, No. 570, 1901.
[3] References Consular Report on Commerce and Manufacture in Italy, vol. xlv. The Nation, No. 1105. E. S. Morgan, Time, vol. xiv.
[4] See Cruttwell's Luca and Andrea Della Robbia, chapter vii. ”

“ Born in 1815, and breathing his first inspirations from that sense of romance blowing into Italy with every northern gale,—a son of the Italian Tyrol, the region where the fire meets the snow,—he has some excuse, if not a perfect reason, for being half-German in his feeling. It is natural that Prati should love the ballad form above all, and should pour into its easy verse the wild legends heard during a boyhood passed among mountains and mountaineers. ”

“ Arriving at the cottage, they heard the characteristic whistle and hiss of wind playing about the eaves, but not the tuneful, mellow note that had reminded Pratt of an organ pipe. They searched around the base of the walls for a recently fallen chimney-pot. There was none.
"Extraordinary!" said Pratt. "No wonder the rustics are jumpy. Of course, there must be some simple explanation--some slight change of direction in the wind, I expect. If you've ever tried to play the penny whistle you'll know that you can't always get a note, when you're a beginner. We've had our walk for nothing." ”

“ Among Prati's patriotic poems, I have read one which seems to me rather vivid, and which because it reflects yet another phase of that great Italian resurrection, as well as represents Prati in one of his best moods, I will give here:
THE SPY. With ears intent, with eyes abased, Like a shadow still my steps thou hast chased; If I whisper aught to my friend, I feel Thee follow quickly upon my heel. Poor wretch, thou fill'st me with loathing; fly! Thou art a spy! When thou eatest the bread that thou dost win With the filthy wages of thy sin, The hideous face of treason anear Dost thou not see? ”

“ The dinghy, which Pratt had tied to a projecting root, they carried ashore, and placed behind the tent.
Pratt was sitting on his chair, tuning his banjo.
"You perceive I have not been idle," he said. "You couldn't have carried the dinghy with such agile ease if I hadn't emptied her first. Your marketing was a success, Warrender?"
"Yes, I got everything we wanted except petrol. By the way, Pratt, there's a rival troubadour in the village."
"I say! Surely not a banjo?"
"A banjo it is, and the player is no other than that general dealer fellow--what's his name? Blevins. ”

“ At that very Villa Montefiori where Benedetta and Dario had plighted their troth, she met Count Prada, son of Orlando, one of the heroes of the reunion of Italy. Arriving in Rome from Milan, with his father, when eighteen years of age, at the time of the occupation of the city by the Italian Government, Prada had first entered the Ministry of Finances as a mere clerk, whilst the old warrior, his sire, created a senator, lived scantily on a petty income, the last remnant of a fortune spent in his country’s service. ”

“ Gentlemen like Pratt, born schemers, invariably forget one very important factor in life—the unexpected! Even the cleverest and most subtle schemer may have his delicate machinery broken to pieces by a chance bit of mere dust getting into it at an unexpected turn of the wheels. And to turn to plainer language—I'm going back to Barford now to hear what another man has to say concerning certain of Pratt's recent movements. ”

“ He laid his hat down on the low-creeping junipers, and let the air sweep his brow. Suddenly the lapping of the tide on the rocks below struck his ear and touched his heart. The tired eyes filled, and for a moment the sunny day was veiled to his sight.
It is not often that such a thing happens to a man of sixty, a man too, not given to self-pity. When it does it may mean many things. To-day it meant that Robert Pratt in his city clothes would smoke no more cigars on the site of the Old Shanty. After that it was Uncle Bobby with his brierwood pipe who lingered among the junipers. ”

“ She only laughed insultingly, and said that Mr Tempest was of her opinion about this ridiculous marriage. Leo saw Mr Pratt, and consulted him.
"I guess you'd better leave it to me," said Pratt, who was on the side of the lovers. "I'll bring Mrs Gabriel to reason."
"But it is more the vicar that needs bringing to reason," argued Leo. "He has changed wholly towards me."
"Perhaps he has heard of your debts," suggested Pratt, pondering.
"What if he had! He knows that I am not so wild as everyone tries to make out. No. It is something else. ”

“ Prom that moment Prati became the poet of suffering youth; in every corner of Italy the tender verses of the Edmenegarda were read with love, and sometimes frenzied passion; the political prisoners of Rome, of Naples, and Palermo found them a grateful solace amid the privations and heavy tedium of incarceration; many sundered lovers were reconjoined indissolubly in the kiss of peace; more than one desperate girl was restrained from the folly of suicide ”

“ Mrs Gabriel was much annoyed to find that Pratt was so notorious a character. She determined to clear herself of complicity in his sordid crimes, although no one ever suspected that she had any knowledge of the man's true character. She sent for Marton, and had a long talk with him about Pratt; incidentally a reference was made to Leo.
"I have asked you to see me, Mr Marton," she said, "because it was I who introduced Mr Pratt to Colester. I have known him ten years, and he always appeared to me to be a most respectable American."
"He is not an American at all," said Marton. ”

“ Pratt breathed hard, but slept on, though the melody of his snoring was sadly impaired in the clearness of its utterance.
Morris gazed at him quietly, and then sung out,
"Pratt—Pratt—what are you lying there wheezing like a porpoise for? Get up, man, your watch is not out." ”

“ They stepped out of the cottage, regained the western shore, discovered the pram where they had concealed it, and, having crossed the river unobserved, so far as they knew, laid the craft in its former hiding-place, and returned to camp. Pratt was busy at the paraffin stove.
"What ho!" he exclaimed. "One must feed, even when pain and anguish wring the brow. I made sure the spooks or some one had got you, and after fortifying myself with bacon and eggs I was going up to ask old Crawshay whether an inquest would be necessary. You look very much washed out. ”