The conquering Roman has left his sign-manual everywhere, but one
is so used to him in Italy that the scantier records of later ages
interest us more here. Like every other old Italian town, Perugia
had its great family, the Baglioni, who lorded it over the place,
sometimes harshly and cruelly enough, sometimes generously and
splendidly--protectors of popular rights and patrons of art and
letters. Their mediaeval history is full of picturesque incident and
dramatic catastrophe: it would make a most romantic volume, but
a thick one. At length the Perugians, master and men, grew too
turbulent, and Pope Paul III. put them down, and sat upon them, so to
speak, by building the citadel.

But time would fail us to tell of the Baglioni, or Pope Paul the
Borghese, or Fortebraccio, the chivalric _condottiere_ who led the
Perugians to war against their neighbors of Todi, or even the still
burning memories of the sack of Perugia by command of the present
pope. We can no longer turn our thoughts from the treasures of art
which make Perugia rich above all cities of the Tiber, save Rome
alone. We cannot tarry before the cathedral, noble despite its
incompleteness and the unsightly alterations of later times, and full
of fine paintings and matchless wood-carving and wrought metal and
precious sculptures; nor before the Palazzo Communale, another grand
Gothic wreck, equally dignified and degraded; nor even beside the
great fountain erected six hundred years ago by Nicolo and Giovanni da
Pisa, the chiefs and founders of the Tuscan school of sculpture; nor
beneath the statue of Pope Julius III., which Hawthorne has made known
to all; for there are a score of churches and palaces, each with its
priceless Perugino, and drawings and designs by his pupil Raphael
in his lovely "first manner," which has so much of the Eden-like
innocence of his master; and the Academy of Fine Arts, where one may