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National Geographic : 1915 Jun
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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 construction or its em bellishment. IN THE PUB There was a little Riva belongs "string" to the gift. and brunette here When the pays in Austrian n the monastery blond-haired chil should be quite com- contrast go furth 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 have passed over it gently; under that Photo by Emil P. Albrecht LIC GARDEN OF RIVA, ON LAKE GARDA to Austria, but looks Italian. One sees blond ; one hears poor German and poor Italian; one money for articles with Italian names. The d is Angelica; the dark one, Gretchen. Can er? 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, because while her sister cities point so proudly to Etruscan, to Greek, to early
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