The illustration shows the Brotello or old town hall, and the pinnacles and north walls of the Cathedral. The Brotello is faced with banded black and white marble, the common device for exterior walls in most Italian Gothic churches, and in this case justified by the beautiful colour it has taken on with age. The building stands mellowed by the hand of Time, a memorial of the days of the old Italian Republics; and its counterpart existed in every Lombard city. Above the arches, under which the good citizens were wont to discuss the affairs of their town while sauntering to and fro in the cool shade, is the great hall wherein the chief of the municipality assembled. From the window in the centre access was obtained to the bar, or _ringhiéra_ outside, from which addresses were delivered to the crowd below, who in constitutional language formed the _parliamento_ and from whom the powers of government emanated.
Two of the old city gateways still exist, the latter of which, the Porta del Torre, leading out on the high road to Milan is to-day but an empty five-storied shell. The old walls may be traced even now on the three sides of the city away from the water-front. But for these there is very little left to show the extent of a place which was once a serious rival to Milan. The staple industry is stone-working, for which the Comaschi have for centuries been widely known. In former times Como was justly celebrated for the products of its looms, excelling in number those at Lyons. Nowadays it exports the raw silk; the looms have sadly fallen off and diminished, and small industries have taken the place of those that brought considerable wealth to the pockets of its merchants.
When the great wave of conquest which swept mid-Europe in the fifth century broke against the walls of Châlons-sur-Marne and the westward march of Attila and his Huns was checked, the defeated hordes of the East followed their chief across the Alps and invaded the plain that stretches away now, just as it did in those far-off days, to the sunny seas that beat against the southern slopes of the Apennines. In the centre of this plain stood Mediolanum, a city ranking second only to Rome, and her greatest colony in the Peninsula. So rich and prosperous a place became of necessity the object of attack, and the hosts that looked to "the Scourge of God" as leader, swept into and through the fair city, sacking it completely. Rebuilt, but once again undergoing the same fate at the hands of Frederick I. in 1162, there remain but a colonnade of sixteen Corinthian columns near the Porta Ticinese, a few tablets and fragments let into the walls of other gateways, and some relics in the museum, to tell of the past glories of Rome's great colony.