Grand Tour

The contrast between the burgeoning population of the past and that of the modern era is a constant feature of the descriptions of Pisa. In general, the city appeared to be a pale shadow of what it had once been, fallen into such decay that grass grew in the streets. The enduring commonplace was inaugurated by Misson, who in 1688 gave figures showing there had been a marked drop in the number of inhabitants as a consequence of plagues and epidemics. Although not entirely unjustified, the picture of comprehensive decline was certainly exaggerated, especially with regard to the density of the population, in view of the large numbers of students and the fact that in the winter months, under both the Medici and the Lorraine, the city housed the grand ducal court, which moved there to take advantage of the mildness of its climate in comparison with Florence’s.

Addison, at the beginning of the 18th century, presented the city as an empty shell. Smollett (1765) granted it a veneer of nobility: «Pisa is a fine old city that strikes you with the same veneration you would feel at sight of an ancient temple which bears the marks of decay, without being absolutely dilapidated». But in the same years Boyle’s description was pitiless: «if it were possible to find board and lodging in Pisa, or at least the necessities, we would be happy to stay in this city, but under present conditions it can only be inhabited by camels [which did actually live in the park of San Rossore]. Even horses can graze and grow fat in the streets. Human beings, unless they are Italian, are unable to find accommodation and sustenance. It is the second city of Tuscany, it is an archbishop’s see and it has a university. Pompous titles but nothing more than titles!».

Yet the beauty of the city was guaranteed by the happy exception of the extraordinary Piazza dei Miracoli, which dominates the accounts of travelers with its complex of monuments, never failing to astonish and beguile.

De Brosses (1740) thought that «in no other place can be found, in a space as small as the square of the Cathedral, four things more beautiful than the four located here.» Emotion crept into even the most apparently impersonal accounts, like that of Forsyth (1802): «[Its gravity pervades every street] but its magnificence is now confined to one sacred corner. There stand the Cathedral, the Baptistery, the Leaning Tower, and the Campo Santo; all built of the same marble, all varieties of the same architecture, all venerable with years, and fortunate both in their society and their solitude». Not to speak of the Romantic tone of Coleridge’s ominous declaration (1806): «grouped together they form a stark and majestic mass, especially in the moonlight, when the Tower has a supernatural appearance».

Admiration of the profusion of marble and the general view vied with wonder at the Leaning Tower. It is amusing to read all the conjectures about it, some of them downright bizarre: it had been built like that on purpose (otherwise it would have fallen over); it had been badly constructed and the foundations, as Vasari claims, had caved in on one side; it was an optical illusion and did not really lean (although this was easily disproved with a plumb line).

The other undisputed landmark of the city was the cemetery known as the Camposanto, where the legend of the miraculous soil in which bodies decayed over the space of a mare twenty-four hours provided a backdrop to the cycle of paintings. Initially thought to be in poor taste, these came, over the course of the time, to be highly appreciated. Descriptions of them take up pages and pages in which the authors linger over the details of the various pictures.

These principal attractions are complemented by references to the shipyard, the bridges, the riverside promenade called the Piagge, the fortress, the ducal palace, the church of the Spina, the botanical garden, the church of Santo Stefano and the university. Stiffer competition for the theme of the monuments came from the streets along the Arno, «either because they inspired landscape painters with the plays of light that they produced between sky and water or for the consequence of the palaces that line them» (Pineider, 2003). The river was in any case a presence that could not be ignored and parallels were often drawn with Paris: «The Arno, which is at least as broad as the Seine, running through the middle of this place, gives its situation pretty much the air of that of Paris» (Grosley, 1758).

Opinions on the character of the population were wildly at variance: some accused the Pisans of insufferable vanity, while others, like Smollett (1765), found them sociable and polite, saying that there were even “men of taste and learning” among them. Social life on the other hand, with the exception of the university, was considered dull and tedious, even if ennobled by the presence of the Knights of the Order of Saint Stephen, engaged in the war against the Turks. But this tranquility was not always seen as a negative factor. Smollett, for instance, declaring that he could not «bear the tumult of a populous commercial city,» asserted that «the solitude that reigns in Pisa would with me be a strong motive to choose it as a place of residence.» Setting out her own theory of contentment and amusement, Lady Blessington (1826) chose Pisa as the best example: «many complain of the tristesse of Pisa: but they are people who only enjoy themselves in cheerful cities and cannot live without balls and receptions. Here the air is pure and exceptionally mild, the countryside around delightful and the forest magnificent. While gaiety does not predominate it is possible to enjoy rational company: books can be obtained and what else is needed to provide entertainment for sensible people?».