austerities of the Grande 

 Chartreuse. St. Bruno 

 had been three centuries 

 dead when this beautiful 

 group of buildings was 

 begun. 



Nor was it the crea- 

 tion of poor, laboring 

 monks alone, nor raised 

 by the small offerings of 

 the poor. According to 

 local story, Catharina, 

 wife of Gian Galeazzo 

 Visconti, gave, when dy- 

 ing, a park adjoining the 

 ducal palace at Pavia, a 

 part of her own dowry, 

 for the perpetual use of 

 12 Carthusian monks. 

 The park comprised 

 some 13 miles in extent, 

 an unimproved, boggy 

 forest, full of game, her 

 husband's hunting 

 ground. In sorrow and 

 devotion he confirmed 

 the gift and expanded it 

 until 20 square miles of 

 territory between Milan 

 and Pavia were tribu- 

 tary to the monastery 



for its support, for its Photo bv Kmil r. Albrccht 



construction or its em- ^^ ^^^^^^ ^^^^^^^ ^^ ^^ ^^^^^ ^.^^^A 



belhshment. 



There was a little Riva belongs to Austria, but looks Italian. One sees blond 



"cfvinrr" fr^ flnP criff- and brunette here ; one hears poor German and poor Italian ; one 



■cTr 1 *= 1 '^ pavs in Austrian money for articles with Italian names. The 



When the monastery biond-haired child is Angelica ; the dark one, Gretchen. Can 



should be quite com- contrast go further? 

 pleted,the revenues from 



its lands were then to be applied to aid- 

 ing the poor of Pavia. The poor of 

 Pavia have never received a penny to this 

 day. One must not be unjust, however. 

 The monastery, the church, were long in 

 building. Gian Galeazzo died ; his sons 

 were not so strong as he ; their inherit- 

 ance melted away ; war desolated the 

 fields and ruined the harvests of Lom- 

 bardy ; the monastery's revenues suffered 

 with the rest ; doubtless there were few 

 pennies to give away. The work was 

 commenced in 1396, the monastic build- 

 ings being erected first ; the facade of the 

 church was finished about 1492. 



No words can describe its beauty, no 

 photograph do it justice. The centuries because while her sister cities point so 

 have passed over it gently; under that proudly to Etruscan, to Greek, to early 



benign Italian sky it has mellowed per- 

 haps a trifle, but as it is, so it seems it 

 must ever have been, a wondrous flower 

 blooming alone at the heart of its silent 



meadows. 



MILAN A HALF-WAY HOUSE 



Milan is today such a half-way house 

 for people rushing up and down the 

 earth, from the Mediterranean to the 

 Alps, from Venice to Como ; it is so very 

 well known, so very crowded, so busy, so 

 bustling, one feels there is nothing more 

 to be told of her. Perhaps because she 

 seems so entirely modern, because she 

 bears so few traces of her earlier years, 



-■^.Si 



