Palazzo dei Priori

Stand still for a moment and feel the stone under your feet. It is smooth and slightly uneven, polished by centuries of shoes crossing this square. Above you rises a long wall of pale stone, warm with pinkish tones when the sun hits it. Swallows cut across the sky. Somewhere nearby, a café cup clinks on a saucer. You are on the hilltop of Perugia, in front of the Palazzo dei Priori, the building that has run this city for more than seven hundred years.

This square, Piazza Quattro Novembre, is the heart of the old town. On one side stands the cathedral of Saint Lawrence. In the centre is the Fontana Maggiore, the great medieval fountain with its carved panels. And here, filling the long edge, is the town hall. It is one of the largest civic palaces of medieval Italy. Its other face runs along Corso Vannucci, the main street, where Perugians walk every evening.

Work on the palace began in the late thirteenth century. Perugia was then a free commune, a self-governing city that answered to no local lord. The citizens wanted a building that showed their power and their independence. So they built big, and they kept building. Over the next two centuries the palace grew in stages, stretching down the Corso and absorbing older houses along the way. If you look closely, the façade is not perfectly uniform. You can see where one phase ends and another begins.

The name tells you who sat inside. The Priori were the city's chief magistrates, elected from the guilds of merchants and craftsmen. They lived and worked here during their term in office. The building was their office, their council chamber, and their fortress. That is why the top edge carries battlements, the square notches you see against the sky. Medieval Italian cities fought each other often, and also fought inside their own walls. A town hall had to be ready for trouble.

Now look at the façade facing the fountain. Rows of Gothic windows run across it, each divided into three narrow arches by slender columns. This pattern repeats again and again, giving the wall a steady rhythm, almost like music written in stone. Below them, a wide staircase opens out like a fan. It leads up to a tall Gothic doorway. This is the public entrance to the oldest and grandest room in the building.

Above that doorway sit two bronze animals. One is a griffin, a creature with the body of a lion and the head and wings of an eagle. The griffin is the symbol of Perugia, and you will see it everywhere in this city — on flags, on drain covers, on shop signs. The other figure is a lion, the emblem of the Guelphs, the political faction that supported the Pope. The bronzes outside today are copies. The medieval originals are kept safely indoors.

Here is a detail most visitors miss. Look below the two animals for the hanging chains. According to local tradition, these chains and bars came from the city gates of Siena, carried home as trophies after a Perugian victory. Whether every link really came from Siena is hard to prove. But the story says a great deal about how these hill towns saw one another. Rivalry between neighbouring cities was a matter of pride, and the town hall was the place to display it.

Climb the steps and you enter the Sala dei Notari, the Hall of the Notaries. It takes its name from the guild of notaries, the lawyers and record-keepers who met here. The room is enormous. Wide stone arches cross the ceiling like the ribs of a ship. Every surface is painted. You will see scenes from the Old Testament, animal fables, and rows of coats of arms belonging to the officials who governed the city. Stand in the centre and let your eyes travel slowly upward.

Now walk around to Corso Vannucci. On this side the palace has a second great portal, and it is far more decorated. Carved bands of leaves, twisting columns, and small creatures frame the doorway. At the top stand statues of the city's patron saints. This was the ceremonial entrance, made to impress anyone walking along the main street. Run your eye along the carving at shoulder height. The stone has softened in places, worn by weather and by countless curious hands.

Inside, the palace still holds some of its old guild halls. The most famous is the Collegio del Cambio, the hall of the money changers. Around the year 1500, the guild hired Pietro Vannucci, the painter known as Perugino, to cover its walls with frescoes. He painted ancient heroes, prophets, and figures representing the virtues. Among them, he included a portrait of himself, looking straight out at the viewer. Perugino was the teacher of the young Raphael, and the street outside carries his family name.

Next door is the Collegio della Mercanzia, the hall of the merchants. Here the mood is different. Instead of frescoes, the walls are lined with dark carved wood, panel after panel, fitted with great care. It feels like the inside of a jewellery box. These two rooms remind you who held power here. It was not princes or bishops. It was bankers, traders, and craftsmen, people who counted coins and weighed cloth, and who wanted their meeting rooms to be beautiful.

The upper floors hold a surprise of a different kind. They contain the Galleria Nazionale dell'Umbria, the national gallery of this region. Its collection covers centuries of central Italian painting, with works by Duccio, Fra Angelico, Piero della Francesca, Pinturicchio, and of course Perugino himself. It is a strange and wonderful idea. The same building that once held tax records and council debates now keeps some of the finest art of the Italian Renaissance. And part of the palace still serves as the city hall today.

Before you leave, step back toward the fountain and look at the whole building once more. Notice how the light moves across the pale stone as the hours pass. Watch the people on the staircase — students sitting with books, friends sharing gelato, someone taking a photograph. These steps were built for public life, and they are still used for exactly that. As you walk down the Corso, glance up at the windows above you. The city's government has looked out from them for a very long time.