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AUTHOR OF ' AN ENGINEER'S HOLIDAY ; OR, NOTES OF A ROUND T FROM LONG. O TO O," AND " OLD-WORLD QUESTIONS AND NEW-WORLD ANSWERS" " I stood in Venice, on the Bridge of Sighs A palace and a prison on each hand : I saw from out the wave her structures rise As from the stroke of the enchanter's wand : A thousand years the r cloudy wings expand Around me, and a dy ng glory smiles O'er the far times, when many a subject land Look'd to the winged Lion's marble pi!es, Where Venice sate in state, throned on her hundred isles ! " BYRON. Childe Harold. LONDON KEGAN PAUL, TRENCH, TRUBNER, & Co. PATERNOSTER HOUSE, CHARING CROSS ROAD I89S 674 The rights of translation and of reproduction are reserved. Printed by BALLANTYNE, HANSON & CO. At the Ballantyne Press PREFACE IMPRESSIONS of Venice may be com- pared to a brilliant heap of her own many-coloured beads, which a child may play with, count, or string, according to mood or temperament. The first course bespeaks a traveller wise enough to loaf contentedly, morn- ing, noon, and night, on Lagoon or Canal, simply absorbing and enjoying Venice. The second, one who, having posted all the items of Baedeker's day-book into his mental ledger, closes his account against the " City in the Sea " with a big balance of facts and figures on the profit side. vi PREFACE The third, him who, with the kindly aid of Sismondi and Brown, Vasari and Burckhardt, strings some of his brighter beads of memory upon a few homespun threads, to form reminders of unique joys, tasted in " faery lands forlorn." Such toys can please others only upon condition that they do not burden the loafer ; distract the precisian ; or try to teach the unclassed tourist what he ought to think and feel about Venice. THE LONG HOUSE, LBATHEEHEAD, SURBEY, October 1895. CONTENTS OHAP. PAOU I. THE GRAND CANAL . . ' I ii. ST. MARK'S CHURCH THE PIAZZA . 31 III. THE LAGOON, TORCELLO, BURANO . 47 IV. THE DUCAL PALACE ... 69 V. VENETIAN ART . . . .91 VI. THE CONDOTTIERl . . I 1 8 VII. VENETIAN COMMERCE . . .130 VENICE CHAPTER I THE GRAND CANAL ' ' So, o'er the lagune We glided ; and from that funereal bark I leaned, and saw the city, and could mark How, from their many isles, in evening's gleam, Its temples and its palaces did seem Like fabrics of enchantment piled to heaven." SHELLEY. J-O step, on arriving at Venice, into a gondola, instead of the omnibus which usually conveys the tired traveller in Italy over a mile or more of stony streets to his hotel, is like falling asleep after pain; and if the train arrives, as ours did, late at night, so much the better. 2 VENICE Then, the shabbier details, the ruin and decay of the place, the poor and inartistic repairs of its grand old buildings, are ob- scured by darkness, and one glides silently forward towards one^s hotel, along wider or narrower water-ways, whose tiny waves, scarcely whispering against the boat's side, reflect a thousand quivering lights from lamps and stars, through a seem- ingly enchanted city of palaces, churches, towers, quays, and bridges. Nothing else compares with the first impressions of Venice, thus approached ; yet the strange- ness of the scene is accepted without sur- prise, like an agreeable, though impossible, situation in a pleasant dream. Our first day in Venice was given up to making a general acquaintance with the Grand Canal and the Lagoon the latter a word whose meaning must be well understood before it is possible to THE GRAND CANAL 3 comprehend the singular character of the locality upon which the City in the Sea is built. Several great rivers, of which the Po, the Adige, and the Piave are the chief, fall into the Gulf of Venice, and form a vast delta which extends along the whole coast of Venetia. This is the seaward termination of the great alluvial plains characterising Lombardy and Venetia, owing their origin to the rivers in ques- tion, which, in the course of time, have filled the great hollow between the Alpine and Apennine ranges with deep and fer- tile soils of silt and sand. These deposits, in the immediate neigh- bourhood of Venice, meet the Adriatic in a curving line of long, low, and narrow islands called Lidi, which (themselves a breakwater, greatly strengthened by art, against the waves) enclose a shallow lagoon 4 VENICE about twenty-five miles long and nine miles wide, whose placid waters harbour an archipelago of sandbanks and shoals, of which the former scarcely lift their surfaces above the level of high tide. The breakwater in question is not con- tinuous, and, through four principal gaps in it, called respectively Tre Porti, Lido, Malamocco, and Chioggia, such streams as fall into the Lagoon itself find their way to the sea, while through the same channels the limited tide of the Mediter- ranean rises and falls. The Lagoon is so shallow that the greater part of it is laid bare by the ebb, when its numerous islands appear connected by devious channels, whose courses are marked by piles, with- out whose friendly guidance navigation would be impossible, even at high- water. The "City in the Sea" is built upon a group of these Lagoon islands, situated THE GRAND CANAL 5 almost opposite the Lido mouth, 2| miles from the mainland ; and 150 canals, spanned by some 400 bridges, intersect the town in all directions, constituting a labyrinth of Rii, or water streets, which no stranger could thread without guid- ance. We shall presently consider how a site, fitter for the nests of sea-birds than the residence of man, first became peopled by Roman fugitives from the sword of At- tila, but our concern to-day is with the aspect of the city which the descendants of these refugees erected, now the wonder and delight of the modern world. Venice is divided into two nearly equal parts by the S -shaped channel of the Grand Canal, whose wide curving reaches of sea-green water are lined on either side with buildings that epitomise the history of architecture from the twelfth to the eighteenth century, illustrating 6 VENICE its beauties with a wealth of examples such as exists nowhere else in the world. Leaving the Grand Hotel, and confining our attention, in the first place, to the left of the Canal (for to observe both banks simultaneously is distractingly im- possible), we first noticed the Church of Santa Maria della Salute, built in florid classical style by Longhena, a pupil of Palladio, in 163 1-82 ; commemorating, as its name bespeaks, the cessation of the plague in 1630. There followed the Dario Palace, a gem in the best style of the Lombardi, a gifted family of architects, of whom more anon ; the Palazzo Con- tarini degli Scrigni (of the money chests), so called from the great wealth of its owners ; and the Rezzonico Palace, begun by Longhena in 1630, and completed by Massari in 1/45, which we paused to visit. THE GRAND CANAL 7 This magnificent Renaissance pile was bought by Robert Browning for his son, soon after the latter's marriage with an American heiress; and here, where the poet hoped to find " a corner for his old age,"" he died in 1888. The great house, empty since the separation of Mr. Brown- ing from his wife, is shown to visitors, and contains many interesting memorials of his distinguished father and mother. There are several portraits of Browning himself, some of them by his son, and a series of likenesses representing Mrs. BaiTett Browning both in youth and maturity. One case, containing a number of the poet's books in old Italian bind- ings, is suggestive of the classical volume to which we owe "The Ring and the Book ; " while the homely little leather writing-desk on which Mrs. Barrett Brown- ing wrote, by snatches, upon scraps of 8 VENICE paper, is not the least interesting object in the only room, among the many great saloons of the palace, which one might imagine the congenial retreat of a poet. In this chamber a recess has been devoted to some memorials of Casa Guidi, and further sanctified by a mural transcrip- tion of the pathetic words wherewith liberated Italy expressed her sorrow at the death of one who loved the Italian cause with the passion and constancy of a woman and the strength of a man. The work of the younger Browning, both in painting and sculpture, is much in evidence in several of the larger rooms. Upon the former, the world has pro- nounced an unfavourable verdict, which the pictures in the Rezzonico Palace con- , firm; but several fine works of plastic art attest that Mr. Browning is a sculptor of considerable merit, preferring voluptuous THE GRAND CANAL 9 conceptions indeed, but expressing these with much force and technical skill. We left this imposing building, with its suites of great saloons designed for the formal and pompous receptions of an Italian noble, interested indeed, but depressed by the feeling that here was no place where a poet might wish either to live or die. In life, Robert Browning might well have left it with Byron to lend a false lustre to the Mocenigo Palace (almost opposite the Rezzonico pile), as the place where " Don Juan " was written and its author resided during his stay in Venice ; while the man who was " ever a fighter " might, with more dignity per- haps, have met the "foe" in a modest retreat, such as Casa Guidi, rather than a " corner " of the great Rezzonico Palace. The Palazzo Foscari, a Lombardic structure of the fifteenth century, is situ- io VENICE ated at the first bend of the S formed by the Grand Canal, and must always re- call the story of Doge Francesco Foscari, in whose case, for almost the only time in history, so completely was the State everything, and even the most distin- guished man nothing, in Venice, do the family affairs of one of its rulers assume any importance. It was a State offence in the Venice of the fifteenth century for the Doge, or any member of his family, to receive gifts of any kind from any one. The decree forbid- ding this was renewed by each succeed- ing Doge, and had been subscribed to by Foscari in his turn. His son Jacopo, who seems to have been ostentatious and weak, was denounced to the Council of Ten by a nobleman named Loredano, his father's enemy, for having taken gifts from the Duke of Milan, with whom THE GRAND CANAL n Venice was then at war. Jacopo was found guilty, and condemned to per- petual exile ; but the sentence was not carried out in all its severity, and, after languishing for some months in Trieste, the culprit was allowed, at the urgent entreaty of his old father, to return to Venice. Five years afterwards, in November 1450, Donate, one of the Council of Ten who had sentenced Jacopo Foscetri to exile, was murdered, and, in the follow- ing January, the Doge's son was de- nounced as the instigator of the crime. The reason which attached suspicion to his name was of the slightest, and no proof of his guilt was obtained, even by the torture; but he was nevertheless condemned, on presumptive evidence, to perpetual exile, and the sentence was this time carried out. Six years later, 12 VENICE he was brought back to Venice, charged afresh with having written to Sforza, Duke of Milan, begging for his inter- cession on his behalf, and, under tor- ture, confessed the act. Being asked what had induced this appeal to a foreign prince, he replied that he had done it, knowing the risk, but feeling it would be better even to undergo tor- ture again than never more breathe the same air with his parents, his wife, and his children. Condemned, for a third time, to banishment, with close imprison- ment added, he was allowed a farewell interview with the aged Doge, his mother, his wife and children. " Ah ! my lord," he is said to have cried, stretching out his hands to his father, " plead for me ! plead for me ! " To which the Doge re- plied, " Obey what thy country com- mands, O Jacopo, and seek nothing else." THE GRAND CANAL 13 He had not long entered his prison when he died, and, almost immediately after- wards, his innocence was established by the confession of Erizzo, a Venetian noble, that he was the murderer of Donate. Doge Foscari was now eighty-four years of age, and the sorrows of his private life had doubtless much to do with the growth upon him of a certain apathy and indifference to public busi- ness which highly displeased the Council of Ten. The powerful family of Lore- dano, his enemy, fostered this feeling, and prompted the proceedings to which it gave rise. The Ten, in secret session, concluded that, since the Doge appeared to be unable any longer to attend to affairs of State, he should be released from his vows and pensioned ; but upon this decision being conveyed to Foscari, he, with much spirit, declared it impos- 14 VENICE sible for him to violate his oaths, which forbade him to resign his office. There- upon the Ten insisted on his abdication in so compulsory a manner that he had no choice but to obey, and, on the 2yth October 1457, he left the Ducal Palace, exclaiming as he did so, "The malice of others has driven me from that eminence whereunto my merits had raised me." Four days afterwards he died, and it is recorded that, " on the same day, the new Doge being in St. Mark's to hear Mass, Messer Donate, son-in-law of the late Doge, came to announce the fact of Fos- cari's death. On hearing it, all looked one at another, saying that they might have delayed ten days ! " Not far beyond the Foscari palace, the bridge, so often called " The Rialto " by the English, spans the Grand Canal. Venetians speak of it as the "Ponte THE GRAND CANAL 15 di Rialto ; " for this part of the town was originally called Rivo-Alto, being an island of that name, where Participazio, the first Doge of confederated Venice, established his government in 811 A.D. ; a spot which, like the City of London, continued to be the centre of Venetian commerce long after the early limits of the town had been greatly extended. To this quarter of Rivo-Alto, or Rialto, and not to the bridge of that name, Shylock refers in his speech to Antonio ; but it was not connected with the oppo- site side of the Grand Canal, except by boats, until 350 years after Participazio^s day, when a wooden bridge was built where the Ponte di Rialto now stands. All the great architects of the sixteenth cen- tury, including Giocondo, Sansovino, Pal- ladio, and even Michael Angelo himself, contended for the honour of building the 1 6 VENICE existing bridge, which was finally executed by Antonio da Ponte in 1 588, and remains one of the most familiar and admired structures of the kind in Europe. Close to the bridge is the Market-place, full of movement and vivid colour, its stalls heaped with great yellow pumpkins, brilliant tomatoes, glowing oranges, and piles of green vegetables artistically dis- played, and, contrasting with these, the white bulbs of great globe artichokes or frilled posies of endive. The fish stalls are prettier still ; but best of all is the quay where the market boats unload, a spot almost justifying the " purple patch " which Ruskin devotes to it : " Could I but place the reader, at early morning, here, where the market boats, full laden, float into groups of golden colour, and let him watch the dashing of the water against their glittering steely heads, and THE GRAND CANAL 17 show him the purple of the grapes and figs, and the glowing of the scarlet gourds, earned away in long streams on the waves, and, among them, the crimson fish-baskets plashing and sparkling and flaming as the morning sun falls on their wet, tawny sides ; and, above, the painted sails of the fishing - boats, orange and white, scarlet and blue, and, better than all such florid colours, the naked, bronzed limbs of the seamen who still keep the right Giorgione colour on their brows and bosoms, in strange contrast with the sallow sensual degradation of the crea- tures that live in the cafes of the Piazza, he would not be merciful to Canaletto any more. 1 ' 1 Without discussing which doubtful dic- tum, we proceeded very cordially to admire the neighbouring Camerlenghi Palace, the residence of the three Treasurers of State, B 1 8 VENICE built by Bergamasco in 1525, and an ex- quisite example of early Renaissance work, wherein the newly revived classical spirit makes modest essay of its powers; and thence to the Palazzo Pesaro, built by Longhena in 1679, where the same spirit, wholly emancipated from mediaevalism, and made, perhaps, over-bold by a hun- dred and fifty years of freedom, informs a varied, rich, and picturesque elevation that justly proclaims itself the appropriate resi- dence of a wealthy and luxurious noble. Venice, from its earliest days, culti- vated a close friendship with the Eastern Empire, for whose rich wares it formed an entrepot ; and Byzantium itself, as we shall presently see, furnished an archi- tect to the Church of St. Mark. Ruskin enumerates eight Venetian palaces which, in spite of restorations, still exhibit traces of the Byzantine style ; and of these, the THE GRAND CANAL 19 oldest, dating from the ninth century, is the Fondaco dei Turchi, a building set aside in the sixteenth century as a resi- dence and warehouse for the Turkish mer- chants then frequenting Venice, who paid the Republic 130 ducats, or ^40, a day for its use. Only a few years ago this palace was one of the most interesting structures in Europe, but it was modernised in 1869, when it became the municipal museum, and onlv the horse-shoe arches of its m handsome colonnade remain to bespeak its Byzantine origin. Turning back at the railway station, just above the Fondaco dei Turchi, and following now the other bank of the Canal, we passed the Vendramin Palace, a magnificent example of restrained Renaissance art, erected by Santi Lom- bardo in 1 48 1 . This extraordinary family, alluded to above, whose genius was trans- 20 VENICE mitted through several generations, num- bered no less than six great builders of the same name, and gave a special char- acter to Venetian architecture, whose most dignified example is perhaps found in the Vendramin, and most graceful in the Casa Doro, having reached which charming and fairy-like palace, our gondola turned homewards. Gothic architecture, in the hands of the Lombardi and their school, assumed a form differing widely from that dis- played in similar buildings, whether civil or ecclesiastical, of Northern Europe. It was employed only for the external de- coration of palaces, themselves conform- ing to a conventional residential standard, characterised by suites of imposing saloons quadrangularly disposed around a central courtyard, decorated, as to walls and ceilings, by silk, tapestry, or painting, THE GRAND CANAL 21 and specially designed for the purpose of formal receptions. The Gothic construc- tion whose intimate union with decoration delights the eye whether, for example, in the Church of Notre Dame de Paris, or the Cluny Palace, could find no place in these great cubicular buildings; and, hence, the slender column, pointed arch, and traceried spandril, deprived of all struc- tural value, appear only as surface deco- rations in Venetian palace architecture, where indeed they escape seeming trivial and unmeaning by reason of the skill and taste with which they were employed by the Lombardi and their followers. As matters stand, however, these Gothic, or Lombardic, palaces form one of the chief charms of Venice; for the Renaissance buildings are not, in themselves, more beautiful than the club-houses of Picca- dilly; they only become more delightful 22 VENICE by the contrast of their refinement with the sea-life of the Canal below them as the beauty of Somerset House is enhanced by the river and of their marble masonry with the green waves from which it rises. But the Gothic palaces are picturesque in themselves, and would attract even if deprived of their unique accessories. Since Venice, in the middle ages, was the commercial centre where East and West met, it is no surprise to find the Turkish warehouse, already alluded to, faced, on the Grand Canal, by the Fon- daco dei Tedeschi, a depot set aside, since the thirteenth century, for the accommo- dation of German merchants desirous of exchanging their cruder produce for those treasures of the Levant which every country of Western Europe coveted. In this building, reconstructed for the pur- pose in 1505 by the Signoria, who, in THE GRAND CANAL 23 view of its uses, forbade the employ- ment of marble in its construction, the Germans were permitted to sojourn with their wares at stated times, and received on their arrival the keys of fifty rooms, which, on their departure, they re- delivered to the Venetian authorities. Scarcely a trace now remains of the frescoes with which Titian and Giorgione covered, each, a side of the Fondaco dei Tedeschi ; but it is still remembered that they quarrelled over the merits of their respective work, and ceased to be friends thereafter. Gliding again, on our way back, under the Rialto Bridge, we were next con- fronted by the Palazzo Loredan, a Byzan- tine edifice of the twelfth century, one of the most severe and beautiful palaces in the whole extent of the Grand Canal. The building has been restored, once in Gothic and once in Renaissance times, 24 VENICE but has not suffered from the Gothic additions (which harmonise well with the Byzantine work) or been spoiled even by the Renaissance architect. There followed the Grimani Palace (now the Court of Appeal), a magnificent Renaissance work, by Sanmicheli, who died in 1542, before it was quite finished ; and, after this, the Palazzo Mocenigo, dis- tinguished for no architectural beauties, but famous as the residence of Byron during his stay in Venice. A curious story relates that the poet who, at one time, returned almost nightly from the receptions of the Contessa Benzon was in the habit of giving his clothes to his servant by the Canal side, and taking from him a board, carrying a lantern, which he pushed before him as a warning to passing gondolas, swam back to the Mocenigo Palace. THE GRAND CANAL 25 The Palazzo Grassi, built in the eighteenth century, is one of the few Venetian palaces kept in habitable re- pair by its owner. But he is an Austrian banker, and an absentee ; and one wanders through its suites of great apartments magnificently, though not very tastefully furnished, their hangings of tapestry and brocade swathed in brown holland, which the janitor withdraws perfunctorily won- dering when this great pile will also be- come a hotel, a factory, or a warehouse, as so many of its fellows have already done. And so we returned home, sated with the faded splendours of these quondam homes of Doges and nobles, but glancing as we left our gondola at the pretty little four- teenth century Palazzo Contarini-Fasan, or " Desdemona's House, 1 ' as it is fancifully called. This tiny gem, a next-door neigh- 26 VENICE hour of the Grand Hotel, itself a palace of the fourteenth century, illustrates, almost equally well with the Casa Doro, how tastefully the Lombardic school could use their charming Gothic traceries for the superficial embellishment of even the most modest building. These traceries, in the present instance, have been care- fully restored, for the house is still ten- anted, and its balconies in particular are an exquisite example of the Lombardic style. The "everlasting note of sadness 11 makes itself heard on the Grand Canal to-day, as on the ^Cgean, when Sophocles listened to its wailing lament for thoughts and feelings that have passed away for ever. Scarcely any of its palaces are now occupied by Venetian families, and only the shadow of former splendour is reflected from its green waters by THE GRAND CANAL 27 the occasional passage of a gondola pro- pelled by liveried servants, and exhi- biting on its black "felse" the coronet which bespeaks an occupant of rank. Almost all these beautiful buildings now serve as public institutions, hotels, factories, warehouses, or shops. In one, Salviati has established glass furnaces and show-rooms ; in another, the Murano Glass Company carry on a similar business; a third is crowded with girls weaving lace for the house of Jesurum ; a fourth is occupied by Besarel, the wood-carver; a fifth by Michieli, the bronze-maker ; a sixth is crammed with " antiquities " and " most original " old masters ; in a seventh, Ziffer, the silk mercer, displays his beautiful wares ; while wine or wood merchants, lime dealers, and a hundred other purveyors of still humbler com- modities, are established upon ground- 28 VENICE floors, where the gloriously attired gon- doliers of proud and noble family once awaited their daily orders. Not a few of the finest palaces are now hotels, from one of which we watched an American party of great apparent indistinction put out, day after day, in a gondola ostenta- tiously flying the star-spangled banner, as if to advertise the scanty remnant of Venetian nobility that a new Doge a pig-packer, possibly, from the Middle States is now "bossing the show" on the Grand Canal. The Venetian Traghetti, or ferry-boat stations, whence the Canal is crossed at intervals for a fee of a halfpenny, are interesting institutions established several centuries ago. Every gondolier, whether a ferryman or no, belongs to a Traghetto, usually named after some patron saint, which stands to him in the combined THE GRAND CANAL 29 relation of a Trade Union, a Friendly Society, and a Social Club. Each Tra- ghetto occupies a small open space on the Canal banks, where its members house the gear of their gondolas, make needful repairs, gossip, and, in more prosperous days, were accustomed to sing in concert on fine evenings, to the great pleasure of passers-by. They still hang in pictur- esque groups about the Traghetti, which are always a sure find for bits of local costume and colour, but their earnings are now too small to foster much gaiety. Each Traghetto is governed by a con- stitution and written laws of its own, dictated, for the most part, by the State several hundred years ago, still religiously preserved, and enforced, so far as changed times permit, by the societies. The hours of work, the fees to be exacted, the number of apprentices, the limits of 30 VENICE their obedience and of their master's authority, together with the festas and holidays to be observed, are all minutely defined ; while the guilds in question may be considered as a survival, where scarcely anything else has survived, of fifteenth- century Venice. The gondolier of to-day is universally admitted to be a good waterman and obliging servant, who makes the plea- santest of all vehicles doubly agreeable by his courteous manners. It is a pity he seldom earns more than four or five shillings a day for the hire of himself and his boat, which costs him ^40, and, being his own property, is always kept clean and in excellent order. CHAPTER II ST. MARK'S CHURCH THE PIAZZA .A. FEW strokes of the oars carried us from our hotel door to the wide steps of the Piazzetta, where a picturesque group of gondoliers is always lounging and awaiting customers. Here we landed, under the shadow of the Ducal Palace, and, passing between two granite pillars, respectively surmounted by the Lion of St. Mark and St. Theodore, the earlier and later patron saints of the Republic, made our way on foot to the Piazza and Cathedral. The Piazzetta is, so to speak, the State doorway of Venice; a space reserved between the Ducal Palace, 3 32 VENICE the Library, and the sea, and presided over by the guardian Lion of the Republic, whence the fleets of Venice sailed, where emperors, popes, and kings were received with unimaginable pomp, and where, as if to give it farther solemnity, the heads of traitors were exposed to the view of all Venice. Passing from the Piazzetta into the Piazza, one reaches the heart of the city, a great oblong " place " sur- rounded on three sides by buildings of the noblest architecture, and closed in on the fourth by the Church of St. Mark itself. In the days of Angelo Participazio, already described as the first Doge of confederated Venice, who established his government at Rivo-Alto in the early part of the ninth century, a legend ran that when, centuries before his time, St. Mark sailed from Alexandria to preach the Christian faith to the Roman popu- ST. MARK'S CHURCH 33 lations then inhabiting the mainland, his ship took refuge among the islands from a violent storm. Here an angel told him that his bones would one day rest, and be held in veneration, near the spot where he had sheltered. That this prophecy might be fulfilled was a hope ever present to the religious minds of the early Venetians, who, always on the look-out, so to speak, for the bones of the Evangelist, came by the coveted treasure in the following way : Two Venetian merchants, Bono of Malamocco, and Rustico of Torcello, were trafficking at Alexandria in the year 828, when they heard of the depre- dations committed by the Saracens on all Christian edifices. Rumour also said that the temple of St. Mark, rich beyond most other churches in precious stones, and containing, besides, the body of the 34 VENICE saint, was in danger from their cupidity. Knowing the legend that foretold how St. Mark's bones were to rest in Venice, and well aware of the credit they would gain by bringing back this coveted possession, they determined to obtain it. Having bribed the guardians of the church to part with the holy remains, they were next confronted with the difficulty of conveying their prize unchallenged through the Cus- toms House; but, craftily hiding their booty at the bottom of a basket which they after- wards filled with pork, and crying "Khau- zir ! Khauzir ! " (Swine ! Swine !) as they passed the Mahomedan officials, succeeded in getting their prize on board ship, and so brought it in triumph to the Lagoons. The Square of St. Mark's was then a green field, where Angelo Participazio had already commenced building a modest palace; and here his son and successor, ST. MARK'S CHURCH 35 Giustiniani Participazio, laid the founda- tion of a chapel, adjacent to the rising ducal residence, where the newly acquired bones of the saint might repose. Giusti- niani died in 829, before his chapel was well out of the ground ; but it was finished, and consecrated, in the following reign, that of his brother Giovanni Participazio, and con- tinued to shelter the body of St. Mark until the year 976, when the reigning Doge, Can- diamo IV., having rendered himself hateful to the people, was attacked in his palace, which was fired and burned to the ground. The flames spread to St. Mark^s chapel, which was also destroyed, together, no doubt, with the presumed body of the saint ; but a pious fable maintains that this was miraculously preserved and still rests under the high altar of the existing church. Pietro Orseolo, the instigator of the revolt against Candiamo IV., and who 36 VENICE succeeded him, devoted his own fortune, together with the proceeds of certain special taxes, to the work of rebuilding both the Ducal Palace and St. Mark's Church, and sent for this purpose to Constantinople for the cleverest builders and workmen which the Eastern Empire could supply. It is said that the Byzantine architect who thus became employed in designing the work was a distorted and bow-legged dwarf, who undertook to raise an edifice of unequalled beauty on condi- tion that his statue should be placed in the most conspicuous spot in the church. The bargain was struck ; but one day, when the Doge was watching the rising build- ing, he overheard the architect say that, owing to certain obstacles thrown in his way, he would not execute the work in the manner he had intended. " In that case,"" broke in Orseolo, " we are absolved ST. MARK'S CHURCH 37 from our promise ; " and instead of erect- ing the statue where all could see, rele- gated it to a corner, where the dwarfish effigy of an old man on crutches, with his finger on his lip, represents, the story says, the Byzantine designer of St. Mark's. The church was consecrated by Doge Falier in 1085, but, since that time, nearly every Doge has added to its decorations, the main body of the structure being of the eleventh, the Gothic additions of the fourteenth, and the mosaics, largely restored in the seven- teenth, of all dates from the tenth to the sixteenth century. Adequately to describe this building is impossible, although Ruskin has essayed the task in a passage, one of whose over- loaded sentences contains more than two hundred and fifty words ! Well might an " Innocent Abroad " in the Piazza 38 VENICE have doubted, after reading it, whether the church existed at all. Yet a humble diarist is expected to say something about everything, and that is the only reason why the present chronicler of small beer ventures to remark that St. Mark's is like no other Christian church in the world. Its form, indeed, is that of the Greek cross, but this is surmounted by a number of domes which might, suit- ably, cover a Mahomedan mosque. The building crouches, instead of soaring, like a great Gothic church, towards heaven. Its face glitters with mosaics, showing no signs of age. Bronze horses, that re- call a triumphal arch, crown the western doorway, replacing the saints and angels familiar to us in such a situation. Its bulbous domes suggest the crescent, where spires point, usually, to the cross, here replaced by elaborate golden finials that ST. MARK'S CHURCH 39 break like rockets in the azure sky. In- stead of frowning with hoar antiquity, the whole structure glows like a newly- cut jewel; yet this incongruous mixture of Oriental ornamentation with Christian symbolism fascinates the mind like a story from the " Arabian Nights." Interiorly, and by comparison with the nave and aisles of a Gothic church, it seems a vaulted cavern, dyed in gold and purple by the harmoniously blended tints of mosaics that completely cover its domes and walls. These are capriciously illu- minated by pencils of sunlight, which, whitened by contrast with the prevail- ing purple, shoot like arrows through the clerestories of its five domes. Its floor is paved with marble mosaics that vie in elaborate design and minutely perfect workmanship with the classic tesserae of Caracalla's Baths, though sur- 40 VENICE passing these in warmth of tone and general softness of effect. Five hundred marble columns, for which the East was ransacked, with exuberantly various and sometimes exquisitely beautiful capitals, adorn the church ; and of these, four, covered from head to foot with graceful low reliefs, dating from the eleventh cen- tury, support a canopy of verde-antique over the high altar, underneath which, as a marble slab at the back records, lie the sacred relics of St. Mark. These are but outlines ; to fill them ade- quately with details is beyond the power of pen or brush. Eight centuries of touch- ing, retouching, and adding to the lavish decorations of this wonderful church have baffled the descriptive capabilities even of Ruskin's art -patter. Let us go into the Piazza, drink a cup of coffee at Florian's, and watch the sunset glow fading from ST. MJRK'S CHURCH 41 the jewelled face of this Eastern magician, a dwarf beside the tall campanile that, geni-like, confronts him, or the square of high white palaces which seem to retire before him, as if awed by his mystic, rather than majestic, beauty. The eye, wandering from the church to the open square, falls on the most charac- teristic scene in Venice. The great "place" is enclosed by imposing structures which appear to form one vast marble palace, though they are in reality a series of palaces, once the residences of the " Pro- curators " of the Republic, the highest officials after the Doge. The northern side of the square is of fifteenth, the southern of sixteenth century age, while that facing St. Mark's was built by Napoleon in 1810. The ground-floors of all these buildings consist of arcades, now occupied by cafes and shops, where all the 42 VENICE pretty things that Venice makes, glass- ware, wood - carvings, mosaic jewellery, gold chains of thread-like fineness, false pearls, photographs and gouache, or water- colour drawings, tempt the foreign visitor. The cafes are crowded within by sallow habitues, who sip coffee, talk, gesticulate and read the journals from afternoon till far into the night. Florian's boasts that its doors are never closed, night or day, all the year round, and the pasty faces of its clients seem to bear witness to the fact. Externally, the cafes attract swarms of well-dressed, gay and insouciant people, who take their coffee or ice at little tables which intrude upon the open square itself; while, among these groups, itinerant sellers of cakes, flowers and fruit drive a flourish- ing trade. Great flocks of pigeons fly round or strut about the Piazza, confidently disputing its pavement with the humans ST. MARK'S CHURCH 43 who feed and pet them till they become perfectly fearless of man. These birds, held sacred for centuries in Venice, are guests of the State, which pays for their maintenance, while the crannies of the church and surrounding buildings give them shelter at night. All Venice is " in Piazza " on spring and summer evenings, when both the arcades and the open square are crowded with promenaders. The band plays two or three times a week, and when its soft harmonies float upwards into the violet sky of a still, moonlit night, it would not be easy to find any- where in the world so gay a picture as the Piazza presents, or a framework of such beauty and dignity as that with which the high white palaces and mosaics of the great church surround it. The campanile, standing alone in the square, and isolated from the Cathedral, 44 VENICE was begun in the tenth, but not com- pleted till the sixteenth century ; and the simplicity of its tall obelisk-like column offers a striking contrast with the ornate Byzantine edifice whose bells it carries. On the other hand, it is faced by the clock- tower, a Lombardic structure of the sixteenth century, which is as quaintly decorative as its neighbour is plain. Its summit is crowned by two bronze Vulcans, "standing naked in the open air," who hammer out the hours with their sledges on a bell that hangs between them ; while, immediately below the great clock-face these figures surmount, a picturesque arch- way leads out of the Piazza to the Merceria, still the chief commercial street of the city, occupied by shops that glitter with jewellery and trinkets, as it was centuries ago, when, on Ascension Days, the mar- ried ladies of Venice visited it in order ST. MARK'S CHURCH 45 to study a certain lay figure which was made to change its fashions, after those of Paris, once every year. We returned to our hotel through a characteristic Venetian street, or calle, well described by Ruskin as "a paved alley, nowhere more than seven feet wide, full of people, and resonant with the cries of itinerant salesmen a shriek in their be- ginning, and dying away into a kind of brazen ringing, all the worse for its con- finement between the high houses of the passage-way. Overhead, an inextricable confusion of ragged shutters, iron bal- conies, and flues pushed out on brackets to save room ; arched windows with pro- jecting sills of Istrian stone, and gleams of green leaves here and there where a fig-tree branch escapes over a lower wall from some inner cortile, leading the eye up to the narrow stream of blue sky high 46 VENICE over all. On each side, a row of shops, as densely set as may be, occupying, in fact, intervals between the square stone shafts, about eight feet high, which carry the first floors ; intervals, of which one is narrow, and serves as a door ; the other, in the more respectable shops, wain- scotted to the height of the counter, and glazed above, but, in those of the poorer tradesmen, left open to the ground, and the wares laid on benches and tables in the open air; the light, in all cases, entering at the front only, and fading away, a few feet from the threshold, into a gloom which the eye, from with- out, cannot penetrate, but which is gen- erally broken by a ray or two from a feeble lamp at the back of the shop, suspended before a print of the Virgin." CHAPTER III THE LAGOON, TORCELLO, BURANO FROM St. Mark's to the Ducal Palace is but a step, but, rather than crowd im- pression too closely on impression, we decided, before visiting the latter, to spend a day in the gondola on the Lagoon, and visit the islands of Burano and Torcello. Murano might also have attracted us but for the pall of coal- smoke hanging over its glass factories. We had already seen the best work turned out by these in twenty shops under the arcades of the Piazza, only to regret that the taste, whether of modern makers or buyers of Venetian glass, is not more simple. So, leaving the 47 48 VENICE Grand Canal an hour before high water, our gondola furnished with a sail to be used if wind enough arose, we glided away over the still Lagoon, in delicious weather, bound for Torcello, which lies about seven miles, as the crow flies, north of Venice. A pathway in the sea, curved like the course of a river, and marked out by piles, connects the city with this island ; but, except for the suggestion of shallow water so conveyed, we might easily have imagined ourselves in a dead calm, on the open sea, so wide was our horizon, and so sea-green the water under our keel. The day was sunny, but a light, low-lying mist deprived us of any glimpse, whether of the snowy Alps or blue Euganean hills, which, we knew, must lie respectively to north and west of us ; yet our outlook, confined in reality to a few miles in any direction, was not consciously limited. Billowy cumulus THE LAGOON, ETC. 49 clouds of softest tints and texture floated everywhere in the heavens, their level bases slightly raised above the sea-line. Dis- tant islands, towers, tall cypresses, passing ships, and even the farther groups of piles themselves, were lifted by a mirage, which concealed their points of contact with the surface of the water, so that they appeared as if suspended in the air. The white palaces and campaniles of the city as- sumed, as we receded from them, various tints of misty rose-colour, so delicate that these scarcely detached themselves from the tender harmonies of sea and sky. The word " dreamlike," from its suggestions of immateriality, seems best to characterise the scene, whose colouring was as far re- moved from Turner's warm as from Cana- letto's chilly tones. The wide Lagoon, in- deed, appeared as if steeped in a sensuous atmosphere that recalled the flesh-tints 50 YE NICE of Titian ; while Giorgione's palette might have furnished reds and yellows for the sails of such passing boats as, now and again, emphasized, by a contrasting note, the soft ethereality of the picture. As Venice faded away in the mist, island after island came into view, the sea-line, over which, by reason of the mirage, they had seemed to hang, rising gradually and imperceptibly, on our approach, until their buildings, trees or towers were seen to be rooted in earth instead of air, while all were touched with the same magic brush that has previously lent such enchanting hues to the city itself. Thus we floated onward, the gentle movement, caressing air, and dreamily delicate view combining to de- light, almost entrance, the senses, while half-awakened memories of Leighton's ten- derest art and Tennyson's Lotus Eaters as gently stirred the mind. THE L4GOON, ETC. 51 Presently we reached Torcello, an island that lifts its desolate fields of salt-morass somewhat higher above the tide than do the sandbanks nearer Venice. It is a waste of wild sea-moor, lifeless, ashen-grey in colour, and infiltrated by the sea through snaky channels whose rotten edges are shaggy with dead roots disinterred by the lapping water. A wider canal, having banks overgrown by samphire and dwarf lilacs, opened to receive our boat, which advanced through a solitude rarely broken by a human habitation, and occasionally emphasized by the ruins of old quays, the foundations of marble buildings, and similar evidence of a vanished population and prosperity. Here we made fast while Merlo and his son, our gondoliers, spread lunch deftly on a table improvised from a transverse board, so placed that we could eat and drink 52 VENICE without moving from our comfortable cushions. The meal was enlivened by some pleasant gossip about our boatman's way of life, of his " own Signorina " or chief employer, of the Montalba family, and of some English residents in Venice for whom he had, at some time, plied an oar. All with that agreeable manner so character- istic of Italian servants, a charming mix- ture of frankness and respect. How one would appreciate something similar if it could be imported into the relations be- tween master and servant in England ! A few strokes of the oars brought us, after lunch, to the edge of a little meadow, part of a small farm, where the figure of a woman, with several barefooted children clinging to her skirts, broke the other- wise complete solitude of the place. This group, who collectively became our guide, were backed by a great church and cam- THE LAGOON, ETC. 53 panile, together with three other build- ings of so modest a character that they might easily have been mistaken for some of the farm out-houses ; but these things were, indeed, what we had "come out for to see " the sole remains of a city that has been justly called " Mother of Venice."" The Roman Empire was dying by inches when Attila's invasion, in 452 A.D., drove the rich inhabitants of Padua, Vicenza, Verona, Treviso, and other cities of Venetia to seek safety from Hunnish sabres in the islands of the Lagoons. During the twenty-four following years, which wit- nessed the final collapse of the Roman Colossus, fresh alarms and disasters added continually to the number of these first refugees, until the islands became numer- ously populated by Roman subjects, for- gotten by their own rulers, and out of reach of the barbarians who had no ships. 54 VENICE Rivo- Alto (or Rialto) was one of the first islands to be thus occupied, and although there is no doubt that this, together with its neighbours, was at first under the rule of Rome, it is equally certain that its settlers had become their own masters as early as 466 A.D., when they appointed " maritime tribunes " for the government of the commonwealth. While time passed peacefully for these in- accessible Lagoon populations, employed in fishing and salt-making, wave after wave of invasion submerged Italy, and the Goths, under Theodoric, were supreme in the Peninsula at the moment when we obtain our next glimpse of the remote settlements anchored in the Adriatic. Certain letters of Cassiodorus, the great Chancellor of Theodoric, record the habits and customs of many peoples among whom he travelled, and one in particular of these describes THE LAGOON, ETC. 55 minutely the condition and character of the Venetians as they appeared to a most acute observer in the early part of the sixth century. This famous letter mentions the long sea voyages success- fully undertaken by the Venetians, their skill in shipbuilding and architecture, their high qualifications as seamen, and the extent of their trade, particularly in salt, which was practically a monopoly of the Lagoons. Of the people themselves Cassiodorus says they were industrious and prosperous beyond all others, that their lives were simple, their diet frugal, and their social relations marked by perfect equality, while they enjoyed a singular freedom from the jealousies and envies of ordinary men. In addition, they were re- ligious, and passionate lovers of independ- ence and self-government. Venetia was overrun for a second time 56 VENICE in 568 A.D. by the Lombards, the wildest horde that Germany had yet sent forth, with the result that a new exodus took place from the city of Altinum, a large party of whose inhabitants fled to Istria, a second to Ravenna, while a third remained . for a time, uncertain in what direction to seek safety. These, the more devout among the fugitives, determined, by the advice of their bishop, Paulus, to fast and pray for three days, seeking a sign from Heaven for their guidance ; and, at the end of that time, legend declares that a voice was heard among them saying, "Ascend the city tower and look towards the stars."" These, to the good bishop's eyes, suggested a vision of boats, ships, and islands ; so, taking this for a divine indica- tion that their course should be directed seaward, they removed, with their most precious possessions, to the island of Tor- THE LAGOON, ETC. 57 cello, whence they afterwards spread to Murano, Burano, and Mazzorbo. The Lidi, or long sandbanks which pro- tect the Lagoon from the sea, being, of all the islands, farthest removed from the mainland and consequent danger of inva- sion, had formed the favourite asylum of the Hunnish fugitives, and many townships, of which Heraclea, Jesolo, and Malamocco were the chief, were already established upon them. These, together with the Altinese settlements, were at first inde- pendent communities, each group of immi- grants creating a separate life for itself, and retaining, as far as possible, the customs, religion and constitution of their ruined and deserted homes. Gradually all the townships drew together into a federation of twelve communes, each governed by its own tribune, but meeting, under the presidency of a Doge or Duke, in general 58 VENICE assembly for the settlement of such busi- ness as affected the general interest of the Lagoons. Jealousy and internecine feuds, how- ever, soon supervened, as one or other of these townships came to the front and endeavoured to impose its will on its neighbours. Now, it was Heraclea which claimed to lead, and destroyed its neigh- bour Jesolo ; to be, in its turn, attacked and razed to the ground by Malamocco. It is, indeed, possible that had this period of internal rivalry continued for long, the Lagoon communities might have frittered away their strength in private quarrels, and the State of Venice never have emerged at all. But external pressure, acting upon the passion of the islanders for independ- ence and autonomy, came in time to save the confederation from itself, and compel the townships to consolidate. THE L4GOON, ETC. 59 The Hunnish invasion had already illus- trated the dangers of the mainland, when a Frankish attack under Pepin, son of Charlemagne, presently demonstrated the peril from a too close neighbourhood of the open sea. Pepin was, however, successfully resisted, thanks in a great measure to the difficulties of lagoon navi- gation ; while, as a result of the Frankish attempt, a complete fusion of the various settlements took place in 813 A.D., and, upon the advice of Doge Angelo Partici- pazio, whom we have already seen laying the foundations of the first Ducal Palace, the seat of government was fixed at Rial to, a spot equally removed from the danger of invasion whether by land or sea. " Here, for nearly a thousand years, Venice lay, a bulwark between the East and West, belonging to neither, but mistress of herself, a nest of hardy islanders deter- 60 VENICE mined and ready to assert her own inde- pendence. Did the Lombards claim her ? she appealed to Constantinople ; did the Emperor attempt to interfere? she flung herself on the Western side ; and all the while she drew from both alike that nourishment which made her what she really was a nation by herself, a peculiar people, Venetians of Venice. 1 * To return to Torcello, and our object in visiting its now desolate shores. Once selected as the site of government, Rialto, or Venice, as it must thenceforth be called, became the natural centre for the life and commerce hitherto distributed over the twelve communes. The Square of St. Marias, in Angelo Participazio's time, was, as we have already seen, nothing more than a green field. Wooden houses, roofed with reeds, were then few and far apart, and where the city now huddles, narrow canals, THE L4GOON, ETC. 61 with unsecured banks, meandered among gardens, orchards, and meadows, while fishermen's sails and nets contrasted every- where with cultivated fields or pasturing flocks. The Doge soon changed all that. In addition to founding a Ducal Palace, he ap- pointed architects, engineers, and overseers for the improvement and embellishment of Rialto and the prevention of encroach- ments by the sea. A city began to rise where the scattered homesteads of farmers and fishermen had been, and, as it rose, the characteristic features of the early lagoon settlement naturally disappeared, until now, after centuries of expansion, im- provement and addition, nothing remains to indicate what manner of men they were who, while flying for their lives before the barbarian, carried with them seed which, planted in mud-islands, and matured in hardship and isolation, struck such deep 62 VENICE roots into the national soil, and sprang into so lofty and beautiful a tree. The ques- tion which cannot be answered in Venice may possibly be resolved at Torcello. Our family of guides led the way to the Church, or Cathedral, as it is sometimes called ; not, be it understood, the self-same fabric as that raised by the Altinese fugi- tives on the Torcellan shore, but a re- production of the earlier building erected by Bishop Orso in the beginning of the eleventh century. This is a basilica of moderate dimensions and perfectly plain exterior, whose only striking feature con- sists in the furnishing of its high square windows with stone shutters turning upon rude stone hinges, and suggesting a shelter, whether from foes or storm, rather than a Christian church. Interiorly, the building consists of three parallel naves, terminating in circular apses THE LAGOON, ETC. 63 and separated from each other by two rows of beautiful marble columns with highly- wrought capitals. The apses, together with the western wall, are decorated with mosaics which, although archaic in char- acter, bespeak considerable skill in this chai-acteristic branch of Byzanto- Vene- tian art. The choir is enclosed by a beauti- fully decorated marble rood-screen, while the chancel is furnished with a singular amphitheatrical semi-circle of stone seats for the use of the officiating clergy, in the centre of which, and slightly raised above the others, is the bishop's chair. Flanking the rood-screen, but in the body of the church, stands a marble pulpit, which, together with the stairway leading thereto, is covered with delicate and beautiful carv- ings. This "ambon" has two divisions, one of which faces south and the other west, exhibiting "an absurd likeness to 64 VENICE many a modern English scheme of pulpit and reading-desk ; and there is certainly force in the observation that such an ar- rangement would never have been thought of unless the Gospel was to be under- stood of the people. 11 Such is the Church of Torcello, a struc- ture that seems to bespeak force and sim- plicity of character, considerable artistic taste, and earnest religious feeling on the part of its founders. The force finds ex- pression in the creation of such a build- ing at all under the circumstance in which the Altinese fugitives found themselves, demonstrating that they had the courage of men, "persecuted but not forsaken, cast down but not destroyed." The sim- plicity is inferred equally from the ex- ternal plainness and restrained internal decoration which distinguishes their House of God. The taste is vouched for by the THE LAGOON, ETC. 65 refined sculpture of its rood-screen, pulpit, and columns ; while the amount of loving labour bestowed on the whole pile, under circumstances of peril, privation, and anxiety, sufficiently prove the depth of their religious feeling. Is it fanciful to suppose that the curious provision for dig- nifying the services of the Church which seems to be implied in the am phi theatrical arrangement of the choir, together with the suggestion of a truly public worship conveyed by the exposed pulpit and read- ing-desk, may corroborate this conclusion ? A fine sea-breeze filled our sail as, leav- ing Torcello, we steered for the island of Burano, not now over the wide waters of the lagoon, but along one of the many winding channels which separate its sand- banks from each other at low-tide. The narrow water-way was alive with the craft of fishermen, who, taking advantage 66 VENICE like ourselves of the breeze, displayed red, yellow, or orange-tinted sails, some- times distinguished by fantastic designs, such as a blooming rose, a heart pierced by a sword, or a star flashing light- nings from its centre. Our route led us past the small and lonely island of San Francisco in Deserto, wholly occupied by a Franciscan monastery and its garden, which boasts one of the most beautiful cypress avenues in Italy. Here a score of monks live in the utmost seclusion, fit keepers and showmen of the stone coffin wherein their founder, St. Francis, was accustomed to lie for some hours daily, communing with the thought of death. Thence we pushed on to Burano, and threaded its canals, crowded with fish- ing-boats, from whose masts hung long complicated nets drying in the sun, and to whose sides were made fast numbers THE LAGOON, ETC. 67 of great pear - shaped wicker baskets plunged to the neck in the water, store- houses of living fish, waiting the Vene- tian market. Other craft from Murano, freighted with heavy boxes of variously coloured beads, were being discharged, for distribution among the numerous women who employ themselves in bead-stringing. The flagged Piazza of the little township resounded loudly with the " clang of the wooden shoon" (that down-at-heel foot- gear of so many Italian peasants) as we passed through its populous precincts on our way to the Countess Marcello's lace factory, where two or three hundred girls are employed in making the famous "point de Burano,"" and thus adding a few lire weekly to the scanty earnings of the fisher community. It was a Buranese whose " old music," "creaking like a cricket," set Browning 68 VENICE once a-dreaming of Venice in her decay ; but no "Toccata of Galuppis" could now, better than the obvious and pressing poverty of Burano, suggest that Venice, having "spent what Venice earned," ruined also by her fall more than one island popu- lation which, in the old days, profitably catered for her once sumptuous house- holds. The kind breeze, pungent with "scents of the infinite sea,"" spared our gondoliers 1 arms until we were close to the city, which lay, in the evening light, like a rosy-white flower upon the surface of the lagoon, whose opal tints were darkened by sunset shadows before we reached our hotel. CHAPTER IV THE DUCAL PALACE A PEDESTRIAN intending a visit to the Ducal Palace enters it from thePiazzetta by the Porta della Carta (Secretary's Door) ; while our gondola, turning out of the Grand Canal, and passing under the Schia- vone Bridge, stopped a little short of the Bridge of Sighs, and delivered us by a water-gate to the courtyard of this strange but most attractive building. A Ducal Palace was commenced, as we have seen, by Angelo Participazio early in the ninth century, upon the consolidation of the islanders, at Rivo-Alto; and this struc- ture, we also know, was destroyed by fire, 69 70 VENICE and rebuilt by the hunchback Byzantine architect, under Orseolo II., in the follow- ing century. Orseolo^s palace was pro- bably similar to the Fondaco dei Turchi, already described, and was damaged, altered, and enlarged both in the twelfth and fourteenth centuries, but not to the complete eradication of its early Byzan- tine features. In January 1414, Tommaso Mocenigo became Doge, thirty-three years after the conclusion of a war with Genoa, which, though ending favourably for the Venetian arms, had so exhausted the exchequer of the Republic that a decree was passed for- bidding any one to speak of rebuilding the Ducal Palace under penalty of a fine of 1000 ducats. All Venice, at the time, considered that such portions of the Old Palace as remained contrasted ill with the splendours of the later buildings, and, a THE DUCAL PALACE 71 further fire having formed the occasion, Mocenigo appeared before the Senate in September 1422, bearing the fine in his hand, and claiming to be heard on this matter. His suggestions were debated and agreed to, the 1000 ducats unani- mously voted towards the expenses of re- building, and the work commenced forth- with. The Doge died in the following year, but the Great Hall, built for sittings of the Consilio Maggiore, was finished in 1423 and opened with great pomp by Mocenigo's successor, Francesco Foscari, the same whose sad story has already been outlined. Venice, at this moment, was nearing the zenith of her greatness, and, in her unbounded love of ostentation, forgot what was due from the city of the present to the city of the past. "A thousand palaces,"" Ruskin justly remarks, " might 72 VENICE be built upon her burdened islands, but none of them could take the place, or recall the memory of that which first rose upon her unfrequented shores. This fell, and, as if it had been the talisman of her fortune, Venice never flourished again. 11 Externally, the pile, like the palaces of the Grand Canal, exemplifies the eclectic spirit in which the Venetians treated archi- tecture. Dominated by the idea that every great public or private building must be cubicular in form, they gave it a Gothic or Renaissance exterior at will, while reserv- ing the rectangular chambers of the interior for decoration by the painter. The architect of the Ducal Palace has accordingly planted upon a dwarf colon- nade, having pointed arches decorated by traceries of great delicacy and beauty, a square mass of marble masonry, unsym- THE DUCAL PALACE 73 metrically pierced by a few large pointed windows, and relieved by occasional bal- conies. The pure white of its walls is variegated by a closely-set diaper of rosy- tinted marble, while the place of a cornice is taken by delicate crown-like ornaments, such as those which surmount the walls of an Arabian mosque. Slender supports of decorated Gothic thus bear the weight of a vast cubicular pile which, but for its diapered surface, would seem even heavier than it now appears ; and upon the brow of this massive body sits a light Byzantine coronet of pierced marble. It is a strange medley; still it charms all the more, perhaps, because it is like no other build- ing in the world, being a complete inver- sion of common practice, which places the lighter superstructure upon the heavier foundation. Meanwhile, one flank of this quasi-Gothic creation leans upon the 74 VENICE southern facade of St. Mark's Saracenic Church, illustrating, in the subtle way peculiar to architecture, the national char- acter of Venice, who herself formed a connecting link between the Eastern and Western worlds. The Palace was not only the residence of the Doge, but housed all the Councils of State, concerning which a few words must be said, if the series of great cham- bers we are about to visit is to interest us fully. The paintings which adorn these rooms will be better reviewed when we come to deal with Venetian art as a whole ; but space must be found here for an expression of profound regret that the numerous fires which, from time to time, have devastated the Palace of the Doges, should have destroyed so many works of the fifteenth - century Venetian masters, of whom, but for these disasters, the THE DUCAL PALACE 75 building would have contained a unique representative collection. The Venetian Constitution assumed a definite shape in the year 1296, and re- tained it, almost unchanged, down to the fall of the Republic in 1797. It con- sisted of the Great Council, or Lower House ; the Senate, or Upper House ; the College, or Cabinet ; and the Doge. The famous Council of Ten, together with its equally famous Commission of Three, were no part of the original scheme, and are therefore disregarded for the moment. The Great Council was first established, under Doge Ziani,in 1172, and was elected, once a year, from and by the people. In still earlier times the islanders discussed all matters of public interest in open meetings, which were presided over by a Doge, chosen by the popular voice. The Doge, after the creation of the Great 76 VENICE Council, was elected by the latter body, but his appointment remained subject to the approval of the people, to whom he was presented, immediately after selection, at the Church of St. Mark, with the for- mula, "This is your Doge, an it please you ! " a phrase which, as we shall see, became ultimately unmeaning and was lost. The Council, as a result of a revolu- tion presently to be noticed, ceased to be elective in 1296, and the government of Venice thenceforth became centred in the hands of the nobles, who were held to be within, while the people were considered without, the pale of this originally demo- cratic body. Its functions were, at first, both legislative and elective ; but, in process of time, the Senate absorbed all law-making faculty, the Great Council retaining only its power of appointing the officers of State, including the Doge. THE DUCAL PALACE 77 The Senate, or Upper House, consisted of sixty members, invited, or " prepared " (" pregadi ") to their seats by the Lower House, and a further sixty, called the " Zonta," or " addition," 1 " 1 who were nomi- nated by the Senate itself at the close of its year of office. Besides these, the Doge, his advisory Council, the Ten (in later years), and certain special magistrates presiding over finance, customs, and justice, were ex- officio members of the Senate. Their func- tions were legislative, judicial, and elective ; but, just as the Great Council was pre- eminently the elective body, so the Senate was pre-eminently the legislative body in the Constitution of Venice. The College, or Cabinet, consisted of the Doge, his six counsellors, and twenty other persons, including the equivalents of our Prime Minister, Chancellor of the Exchequer, War Minister, and Minister 78 VENICE of Marine, and the chiefs of the Court of Appeal. As the Great Council was the elective, and the Senate the legislative, so the Cabinet was the initiative and execu- tive member of the State. It proposed measures which became law in the Senate ; but the execution of those laws was en- trusted to the College, which had the machinery of State at its disposal. The position of the Doge of Venice was one of almost despotic power from the creation of this dignity in the seventh down to the establishment of the Great Council in the twelfth century. During that period, the office tended to become hereditary in certain powerful families, whose rivalries alone prevented the Duke- dom of Venice from becoming a kingdom. It would lead us too far to describe the means by which the Doge, once an absolute ruler, was gradually reduced to THE DUCAL PALACE 79 the position of a mere figure-head, repre- senting the ceremonial pomp of the Re- public, but otherwise powerless ; nor can we trace the steps by which the democratic islanders were led from the enjoyment of autonomy to a similar powerlessness, whether in the selection of their Duke or the general government of Venice ; but a few words must be said concerning the forces which operated to bring about the changes in question. In the earliest years of its existence, Venice lived by fishing, salt-making, and other humble industries, no man being very rich or very poor ; while the leaders of the community, themselves members of the old Roman nobility, but nurtured, equally with the people, in the school of adversity, came to hold their position of authority among them by character and capacity rather than wealth. After the 8o VENICE fusion at Rial to, the islanders profited by a period of rest from internal struggles to apply their energies to trading with the East, but the very prosperity which fol- lowed paved the way for new dissensions. While the old aristocracy remained the natural leaders of the populace, and claimed superiority in virtue of its de- scent, there arose from among the people a class of men who, by commercial activ- ity, had acquired a wealth far exceeding theirs. " These men were drawn together by the common desire to assert themselves, to obtain the full value of their wealth, and recognition of themselves as a distinct element in the polity. It was inevitable that they should seek to develop them- selves into an aristocracy ; but, as inevit- ably, such development brought them into collision with the old hereditary nobility, already firmly rooted, and also THE DUCAL PALACE 81 with the people, from whom they wished to differentiate themselves." In course of time, the new plutocracy emerged as a distinct party, which conso- lidated itself around two primary objects, viz., to crush the Doge, who was frequently chosen from among the old nobility, and to deprive the people of power; for so long as these retained their ancient right to elect the Doge, and so long as the members of the older families were suc- cessful candidates for the Dukedom, the new party was not supreme. Whether the plutocratic nobility origin- ally desired supremacy for its own sake, or to be used as a bulwark against personal ambitions, which might easily, under the circumstances, have converted an able Doge from a constitutional sovereign into a despot, is an obscure question ; it must suffice to know that, after nearly three 82 VENICE centuries of persistent efforts, the new men succeeded to the complete lordship of Venice. At the expiration of that time (1487), the Ten, as already related, were able to dictate the abdication of Doge Foscari ; and even before the close of the thirteenth century the Dukedom had become an office of no real power ; the new aristocracy had displaced the old, while the people had lost all voice in the conduct of their own affairs and the choice of their Duke. But the new rulers of Venice, while thus safeguarding themselves from the ambi- tions of the older aristocracy, took the utmost care to save themselves also from themselves. The Council of Ten, to whom we now return, were, in the first instance, simply an extraordinary magistracy, called into existence to save the State in a dangerous crisis. The Tiepolo revolution, THE DUCAL PALACE 83 already alluded to, was an attempt on the part of the old nobility to restore the con- dition of affairs which existed before the emergence of the plutocratic party. It failed ; but so narrow was the escape of the new aristocracy from the pitfall prepared for it, and so slow such retributive action as could be expected from a cumbrous organisation like the Senate, that, for its own immediate safety, the new rulers of Venice had recourse to the appointment of a Dictator. " Following the inherent bent of their own policy, however, this Dictator was not an individual, but a Committee. The Council of Ten was originally appointed to examine into the causes and trace the ramifications of the Tiepolo conspiracy. Its tenure of office was at first limited to a few days, then extended to two months ; finally it was de- clared permanent on July 20th, 1335, and 84 VENICE thenceforth became the tyrant of Venice more terrible, whether to treachery or ambition, than any personal despot, be- cause impalpable and impervious to the dagger of the assassin. It was no concrete despotism, but the very essence of tyranny. To seek its overthrow was vain. They who strove to wrestle with it clasped the empty air; they struck at it, but the blow was wasted in. space. Evasive and pervasive, this dark inscrutable body, whose members changed perpetually, and of whom to-day "s judge might be to- morrow''s accused, ruled Venice with a rod of iron. For good or evil, the Council of Ten was the very child of the new aristo- cracy, which had won its battle against both the people and the old nobility. The victorious party breathed, and their breath became the Ten ; and it was the Ten which both determined the internal aspect of THE DUCAL PALACE 85 Venice for the remainder of her existence, and distinguished her politically from the rest of Italy." The place of the Ten in the consti- tutional structure was parallel with the Senate. Below the Cabinet the adminis- tration bifurcated the ordinary course of business flowing through the Senate, the extraordinary through the Ten. The Ten possessed an authority equal to that of the Senate ; but the choice of which instrument should be used rested with the Cabinet. The Ten therefore appear to be of more importance than the Senate, because they were used upon more critical and dramatic occasions. Wherever the machinery of the Cabinet and Senate moves too slowly, we find the swifter mechanism of the Ten in motion. Thus they gradually absorbed more and more of the functions originally belonging to 86 VENICE the Senate. In politics and foreign affairs they commissioned the "Three,"" Inquisi- tors of State. In the region of justice, all cases of treason came before the Ten. The higher officers of police and finance belonged to this Council, and even in the Arsenal they were supreme. Entering the courtyard of the Palace, the most casual observer must be deeply impressed by the extreme beauty, dignity, and variety of its decoration. Having three of its sides enclosed by the Gothic arcades already described, the fourth abuts directly upon the southern face of St. Mark's Church, with a most charm- ing effect. Two beautiful bronze well- heads, or "pozzi," which might have been modelled from the antique, lend a singu- larly attractive appearance to the open courtyard, from which the Palace itself is entered by the Scala dei Giganti, per- THE DUCAL PALACE 87 haps the most beautiful external staircase in the world, decorated with exquisite bas-reliefs in marble, and crowned by Sansovino's " Mars and Neptune,"" between which colossal statues the coronation of the Doges used to take place. Thence we passed to the hall of the Great Council, where the nobles, whose names were inscribed in the " Golden Book" of the Republic, sat as members of the Consilio Maggiore, the self-consti- tuted masters of Venice since the end of the thirteenth century. Here hang the portraits of seventy-six Doges, beginning with Angelo Participazio, and including the empty frame which once enclosed a likeness of Marino Faliero, "beheaded for his crimes,"" together with a num- ber of pictures by Paolo Veronese and Tintoretto, whose importance gives a fresh stimulus to regret that all the work of 88 VENICE the great Cinquecentists, once employed in embellishing the Ducal Palace, should have perished in the fires which gutted it during the sixteenth century. The upper floors of the building intro- duced us to a series of apartments, still in their original condition, where the Senate, the Cabinet, the Ten, and the Three were accommodated. All contain pictures, some of them world-famous by Veronese, Tin- toretto, Palma, Paris Bordone, Bonifacio, and other great artists ; and of these chambers, that of the Three is perhaps most interesting, since it contains the letter-box into which opened the famous " Lion^s Mouth " wherein, from without, might be thrown the statements, petitions, denunciations, or what not, which were daily read, in camera, by the assembled " Inquisitors of the Republic." Aside, how- ever, from the pictures on their walls, which THE DUCAL PALACE 89 fully demonstrate the pompous pride of the Venetian Republic, these State apart- ments exhibit little splendour. They are, for the most part, only dignified and convenient rooms, handsomely but not gorgeously fitted up for public uses not so decorative, indeed, as the chambers of the British Houses of Parliament, but such as an assembly of " potent, grave, and reverend Signiors" might well be satisfied to occupy when in council. In addition, we visited the Doges' modest chapel ; the room where votes were cast for offices of State ; the library of St. Mark's, famous for some rare books, and particularly for the illuminated "Grimani Breviary ; "and the Archaeological Museum, containing, among other things of less in- terest, some very beautiful antique sculp- tures and bronzes, the spoil, without doubt, in many cases, of those Venetian traders to 9 o VENICE the East who dared not return from their voyages without such gifts for their city. The eastern flank of the Ducal Palace is connected by the Bridge of Sighs with the State prisons, which are without interest, except for those who take a morbid plea- sure in recalling the crueller features of mediaeval justice, and for whom, indeed, a torture chamber has been actually restored in the ruined " Piombi," or prisons under the leads of the Palace. It is somewhat singular that so much sentiment should have been wasted upon "that pathetic swindle," as Mr. Howells nicknames the Bridge of Sighs ; a structure of so late a date that none of the greater State prisoners of Venice ever passed, by its nar- row way, to the dungeons on the farther side of the canal which it spans. CHAPTER V VENETIAN ART .As the oldest Venetian painting is to be found in the Church of St. Mark, so the latest that, viz., of the followers of Titian distinguishes the Ducal Palace; while the churches of Venice, together with its Academy of Fine Arts, make us acquainted with many artists of inter- mediate date and great merit. Venetian art, which accomplished no- thing in the fourteenth century, had its origin in Padua, where a school of paint- ing was established in the first half of the fifteenth century, and attracted numerous students from all parts of Italy, among 9 1 92 VENICE whom the Florentines Giotto, Donatello, Lippi, and Ucello may be specially men- tioned. Its founder, Squarcione, although a painter, was not a professional artist, but a man of considerable culture, who fitted up a museum, filled with works of antique art collected in his travels, as a studio for his pupils. These he encouraged to make copies of ancient models, thus stimulating the growing admiration for Greek art, while himself teaching an austere classical style, which finds full expression in the works of Andrea Mantegna. Taking with him the Tuscan principles he had acquired in the workshop of Gentile da Fabriano, at Florence, Jacopo Bellini studied in Padua about the year 1423, and transmitted the influence of Squarcione's school to Venice, as Mantegna, afterwards his son-in-law, earned them to Mantua. About the same time, the island of VENETIAN ART 93 Murano produced Alamannus, Antonio, and Bartolommeo Vivarini, a family known as "The Muranese" who, with Jacopo Bellini, may be regarded as the fathers of Venetian art, and originators of the warm and sensuous colouring which culminated in Giorgione and Titian. Jacopo Bellini left behind him two sons, Giovanni and Gentile Bellini, who, beginning to paint in the first half of the Cinquecento, survived into the following century, and died, very old men, the im- mediate precursors of the glorious prime of Venetian painting. Giorgione, Car- paccio, and Titian were their contem- poraries; while, elsewhere than in Venice, Michael Angelo, Da Vinci, Raphael, and Andrea del Sarto, to say nothing of men like Botticelli and Fra Bartolommeo, con- tributed to create the artistic atmosphere of their time. 94 VENICE The Bellinis were scarcely in their graves when they were followed, in Venice, by Paris Bordone, Tintoretto, and Paolo Veronese, who, in the second half of the sixteenth century, when all other schools had already fallen into decay, lifted Vene- tian art to its highest levels in the masterpieces of the Ducal Palace and the Academia. Veronese died twelve years before the opening of the seventeenth century, and art, already extinct for more than fifty years throughout the rest of Italy, perished, with him, in Venice. It had lived through a glorious hundred and fifty years in the City in the Sea. Vigorous in its youth, with Vivarini and the Bellinis; little less beautiful, and strangely inter- esting, in its adolescence, with Carpaccio ; sensuously magnificent, in its prime, with Titian, Palma, and Bordone, if extrava- gant, as that prime declined, in Tinto- VENETIAN ART 95 retto ; its last years were splendidly, yet delicately, pompous in Paolo Veronese. Venetian painting, from its earliest to its latest days, is distinguished from that of all the other Italian schools in various ways. While the Tuscan artists of the fifteenth century were individual, senti- mental, and humanistic, the Venetian masters of the same period were ordered, materialistic, and far more concerned to express the mere joy of existence than their Tuscan contemporaries. In addi- tion, they were possessed by the love of warm and vivid colour, a peculiarity due in part, perhaps, to the glories of their native sea and sky, and emphasized doubtless by the early introduction among them, by Antonello da Messina, of the use of oil colour. Two generations of painters are dis- tinguishable at Venice during the second 96 VENICE half of the fifteenth century. The first, represented by the three Vivarini, already mentioned, and Crivelli, derived their principles from Padua, and are character- ised by accuracy and hardness in their central figures; while the purely decorative part of their work, particularly in the case of Crivelli, is rich and splendid beyond description. All these artists display the love of warm and vivid colouring common to their successors. The second generation of Cinquecentists begins with the brothers Bellini, sons of Jacopo Bellini, and their pupils, among whom Giorgione, Cima, and Mansueti are the most famous. Carpaccio, Basaiti, and Bocacino, though not belonging to this school, were in various ways affected by it, and form a part of the group among whom the peculiar Venetian colouring originated. The grandeur of Bellini's school is so VENETIAN ART 97 generally accompanied by a certain nar- rowness, as makes it evident that the patron of art, rather than the artist him- self, determined its course. Its works are consequently inferior in ideas to those of the Florentines, while surpassing them in colour and realism. Giovanni Bellini was by far the greatest artist among the second generation of fifteenth-century Venetians. The central figures of his religious pictures are noble in form and easy in action. They are brought together, not for the mere sake of effective contrast, but as tones of one and the same chord, and are pervaded by an expression of calm happiness to the exclusion of supra-sensual emotional- ism, such as distinguishes many of the Tuscan masterpieces which fills the spec- tator with inward satisfaction. His types of humanity are so nearly related to our 98 VENICE own that we imagine it possible to meet his characters, and live with them; whereas, independently of their ideal forms, even Raphael's figures seem removed from us by their lofty relationships. While Bellini's Madonnas serious, but without definite emotions impress the mind thus, and the child-Christ appears sublime and vigor- ous in form and action without losing the expression of childhood, the wonder- ful angels whom he depicts on the steps of the throne, with their violins and lutes, embody the joy of simple existence like the figures of a Grecian urn. The same joy, which was the soul of the Renaissance, finds unrestrained expression in Bellini's mythological and allegorical works. There are five beautiful little pictures of his in the Academy which are as Greek in their delicate fancifulness as his religious pictures are sweet and harmonious. VENETIAN ART 99 Among the second group of Cinquecen- tists, Carpaccio is unique as a story-teller ; and so great is the antiquarian interest which lapse of time has added to his canvasses, that this quality alone might easily cause us to overlook the artistic merits of a very remarkable man. He is best known by a series of eight large works representing scenes in the life of St. Ursula, and a miracle picture all in the Academy, together with another series, in the Church of S. Giorgio degli Schiavone, portraying the deeds of the three great Dalmatian saints, St. George, Tryphonius, and Jerome, whose festivals are here celebrated. Carpaccio is, above all things, distin- guished by a singular nai'vete, rare even among the Tuscan Cinquecentists, and altogether absent from the later art of Venice. In addition, he displays sensi- ioo FEN ICE bility alike to character and to beauty in the human face; great dramatic force, a perfect grasp of perspective, high technical skill, and the love of colour common to all the Venetians. From the antiquarian point of view, his pictures are store-houses of interest, wherein the spectator, having sufficiently admired his art, may roam for hours in a delighted study of details which enable him to realise the aspect of fifteenth-century Venice with the vrai- semblance of a stage representation. The scene, for example, in the miracle picture already alluded to, lies on the Grand Canal, immediately in front of the Rialto Bridge. The time is sunset, and the golden haze of the western sky is broken by roofs, turrets, bell-towers, and chimneys. The Canal is crowded with gondolas without the "ferro" or "false" of a later date canopied by gaily-hued VENETIAN ART 101 hangings, and propelled by gondoliers, attired in rich silk doublets and slashed hose, from under whose dainty red caps fall showers of golden curls. On one side of the Canal the white marble steps are crowded with Venetian nobles, dressed in varying shades of red and blue, gold and purple ; while, in a gallery above them, a group of clergy in white robes are gathered around a demoniac from whom the evil spirit has been expelled by the exhibition of a fragment of the true cross. No better view could be desired of the old bridge and its surrounding buildings, as they existed towards the close of the fifteenth century, while the skilful and realistic treatment of personages, accessories, and dresses seems to place the spectator in the midst of the scene itself. Very little of GiorgioneWork is authen- ticated, and of that little there is not 102 VENICE much to be seen in Venice ; but his name cannot be omitted from any list of the great Venetian Cinquecentists. Gentile Bellini, brother of Giacomo, must simi- larly be noticed, and is, indeed, magni- ficently represented in the Academy by three great miracle pictures, which, while wonderfully delicate and harmoni- ous in execution, are full of architectural details and general antiquarian interest. In one of these the Church of St. Mark is represented in minute detail, showing the old mosaics as they existed before the alterations of the seven- teenth and eighteenth centuries. A procession fills the square, and over its profuse and beautifully painted details of dress and ceremonial an antiquarian might linger lovingly for hours, as with the Carpaccio already described. VENETIAN ART: 103 These two schools comprised the men who were employed during the fifteenth century in decorating the Ducal Palace, after its restoration at the instance of Doge Mocenigo in 1422, and it is their work which, to the unspeakable loss of art, was swept out of existence by the fires of the succeeding century. Let us make the most of what remains, in the Churches and Academy, of the Vivarini, the Bellini, and Carpaccio, for their great- est masterpieces have perished. We come next to the consideration of sixteenth-century Venetian painting, and particularly to the art of Titian, Veronese, Palma, Paris Bordone, and Tintoretto, who, to the exclusion of their many able followers, must stand for its exemplars. This school, with a meagre supply of poetical, and liberal dower of picturesque, ideas, has justly attained a higher position 104 VENICE in general esteem than any other, pro- bably because the office of art, as of litera- ture, is, fundamentally, to please. In its centre stands the gigantic figure of Titian, who, during a life of nearly a century, either created or adopted all of which Venice was capable in painting. His divine quality, the matured offspring of the Renaissance spirit, lay, whether con- sciously or unconsciously, in the feeling that the function of art is to represent what in real life is broken, scattered, or limited, as complete, happy, and free. He struck this key-note which the Tuscan Cinque- centists had felt after, and Raphael touched and the work of himself and his followers together completes a chord whose every note vibrates with the joy of existence. The pure, ideal beauty of his female figures, their delicious flesh tints, white linen, golden hair, and naively VENETIAN ART 105 happy expression, form a harmonious whole wherein, while everything pleases, nothing obtrudes. These are no mere studies of the nude, such as modern France produces ; neither are they great ladies posing as courtesans, but examples of a not impossible existence, joyous rather than gay, sensuous but not sensual. Paolo Veronese elevated pageantry to the height of serious art, and carrying the latter to a point of unsurpassable excel- lence, was a painter precisely suited to a nation of merchant princes. Destitute of poetical ideas, he idealised prosaic magnificence, and celebrated all the glory of the earth and life in superb ban- quet halls which give upon great airy spaces of blue sky and white clouds, with suggestions here and there of distant and unimaginable architectural glories. These sumptuous apartments he decorated with io6 VENICE silk and satin, brocades and banners, crowns, sceptres, plate, fruit and flowers, and peopled with a race of beings free, beautiful, and magnificent, in the full en- joyment of mere existence. Or he was allegorical, not in a poetical or mystical, but pompous and processional fashion ; while, in his chef-cTceuvres, the "Myth of Europa " and " Venice Enthroned," his sober imagination spent itself in creating splendours so transcendent as to leave little room for regret that he could not reach the higher plane of poetry. Mean- while, his command over such subjects as he painted, together with his workmanship, was perfect ; and he borrowed the colour that suffuses his pictures from the living and liquid light of the Venetian lagoon. Palma^s golden -haired and deep -bo- somed women, saintly and sensuous at the same time, might have stepped out VENETIAN ART 107 from one of Veronese's luxurious palaces ; while Paris Bordone no less happy than Palma in the portrayal of ' ' Dear dead women, with such hair, too what's become of all the gold, Used to hang and brush their bosoms ? " surpassed even Paolo himself by his "Doge receiving the ring from a fisher- man,"" which now hangs in the Academy, and is perhaps the greatest picture ever painted in Veronese's style. It remains to speak of Tintoretto, who was in, though not, properly speaking, of, the Venetian school. Inscribing on his studio the boastful words, " Design of Michael Angelo colouring of Titian," he replaced the sublime demi-gods of Michael Angelo's art by contorted figures, crowded into inadequate spaces ; while Titian's glowing tints give way in his pictures io8 VENICE to cold dark blues, and even to black, which he is reported to have declared, in answer to a question, the " prettiest of all colours." "Along with much that was grand in Tintoretto there was great coarse- ness and barbarism of feeling, and he often descended to unconscientious daubing. In his enormous works, which, in square feet of painted surface, amount perhaps to ten times as much as the fruits of Titian's cen- tury of life, one surmises that he under- took these things as a contractor, and executed them as an improvisatore." This estimate of Burckhardfs, made more than twenty-five years ago, though not unfair to much of Tintoretto's work, is startlingly in contrast with certain modern views upon the same subject, derived from, and first formulated by Rusk in, who pro- claims Tintoretto one of the greatest of poet-artists. There are, indeed, pictures VENETIAN ART 109 by him which demonstrate that he could approach Michael Angelo in feeling, and Titian in colour; and of these, his best example, " The Marriage of Bacchus and Ariadne,'' 1 hangs in the Ducal Palace. The Church and Scuola di S. Rocco, decorated chiefly by Tintoretto, also contain some of his finest works, extravagantly praised by Ruskin, but displaying the defects of his qualities. Such flashes of genius indeed as we owe to the "Thunderbolt of Painting"" blind, rather than delight, the eye ; and one turns from his restless dramatic scenes, where moods and passions are ex- pressed by contorted attitudes, brusque lights, and black shadows, whether to the calm material splendour of Veronese, or the pure ideal beauty of Titian, with the conviction that here is finished art, there, rather, crude improvisation. Venetian life in the sixteenth century Ho VENICE was almost as splendid, in fact, as Titian and Veronese represent it. " The City in the Sea had reached her apogee, and was already beginning to flame in sinister splendour down the road to corruption, although she had never before made so magnificent a display in the eyes of Europe. Palaces were rising along the Grand Canal, State ceremonies increased in pomp and number, until life seemed like one prolonged fete, but, meanwhile, the race for distinction in wealth and splen- dour was ruining all but the wealthiest noble families." Their emasculated sons, refusing to embark in business, spent their time at " Balls and masks, begun at midnight, burning ever to mid-day." Commerce and population were steadily declining. Increasing numbers of the VENETIAN ART in people lived on the charity or the vices of the rich, while, side by side with enor- mous private fortunes, there grew up a desperate poverty which hated the luxury it served. Thus environed, the sixteenth-century Venetian artists led, naturally, the same luxurious and even sensual lives as the Society of their day. Titian himself was on terms of close intimacy with the in- famous Aretino, whose career at Venice was a complacent outrage upon all de- cency, but who was, nevertheless, ad- mired, courted, and accepted as a model of good form by the elite of the city. Yet these men drew from impure sur- roundings only enough of their spirit to inform painting with a certain subtle flavour of sensuousness, and, neither puffed up by the " pride of life," nor enervated by the "lust of the eye," succeeded in ii2 VENICE reaching, from what the moralist of to- day would consider a social abyss, heights never before attained, even under elevat- ing conditions, by art ! It is not easy to divine why sculpture was neglected in Venice, while painting rose to such supreme excellence ; but the fact remains that we hear of no Venetian Pisano, Donatello, Ghiberti, Verrochio, or Michael Angelo. The dearth of open spaces in a city where canals take the place of streets might be supposed the cause of this, but for the fact that the Republic actually forbade the erection of statues in the Piazza. The great saloons, whether of the ducal or private palaces, all of which were profusely de- corated by the painter's brush, are admirably suited to the display of plastic art, yet are destitute of statues; and sculpture in Venice is practically con- VENETIAN ART 113 fined to the monuments of the great, or employed as ancillary to architecture. The Churches of SS. Giovanni e Paolo, and of the Frari, built in the thirteenth century, for the Dominicans and minor Franciscans respectively, are rich in sculptured tombs. The first has been called the Westminster Abbey, and the second the Pantheon, of Venice, and in both are to be found marbles, sometimes merely ostentatious, but often worthy of the highest admiration. The merit or demerit of these tombs de- pends very much upon their date ; the fifteenth-century work being always good, and sometimes exquisite, while that of the seventeenth century is exe- crable. Ruskin has well described both types. Of the former and speaking of the monument of Tommaso Mocenigo, whom we have already seen coming ii4 VENICE forward, with the fine in his hand, to advocate the rebuilding of the Ducal Palace after its destruction by fire he says : " The tomb is wrought by a Florentine, but it is of the same general type and feeling with all the Venetian tombs of that period, and it is one of the last that retains it. The classical element enters largely into its details, and, like all the lovely tombs of Venice and Verona, it is a sarcophagus with a recumbent figure above, and this figure a faithful and tender portrait, wrought without painfulness, of the Doge as he lay in death. He wears the ducal robe and bonnet, his head is laid slightly aside on his pillow, his hands are simply crossed as they fall. The face is emaciated, the features large, but so pure and lordly in their natural chiselling that they must have looked like marble even in their VENETIAN ART 115 animation."" Of the latter, dating from the middle of the seventeenth century, he says : " Behold a mass of marble, sixty or seventy feet in height, of mingled yellow and white, the yellow carved into the form of an enormous curtain, with ropes, fringes, and tassels sustained by cherubs; in front of which, in stage attitudes, advance the statues of Doge Valier, his son (also a Doge), and his son's wife, Elizabeth. The statues of the Doges, though mean and Polonius-like, are partly redeemed by the ducal robes; but that of the Dogaressa is a consumma- tion of grossness, vanity, and ugliness the figure of a large and wrinkled woman with elaborate curls round her face, and covered from shoulders to feet in ruffs, furs, lace, jewels, and embroidery. Be- neath and around are scattered Virtues, Victories, Fauns, Genii the entire com- n6 VENICE pany of the monumental stage, assembled as before a drop-scene, executed by various sculptors, and deserving attentive study, as exhibiting every condition of false taste and feeble conception." In the Campo di S. Zanipolo, adjoining the Church of Sts. John and Paul, stands the one great sculptural work in Venice an equestrian statue of Colleoni, the famous Condottiere, executed, like Moce- nigo's monument, by a Florentine, Andrea Verrochio, who visited Venice for the purpose. Of it Ruskin says : " I do not believe there is a more glorious work of sculpture existing in the world ; " while a greater critic of Italian sculp- ture remarks : " The stalwart figure of Colleoni, clad in armour, with a helmet on his head, is the most perfect embodi- ment of the idea which history gives us of an Italian Condottiere. As his horse VENETIAN ART 117 paces slowly forward, he, sitting straight in the saddle, looks over his left shoulder, showing a sternly marked countenance, with deep-set eyes, whose intensity of ex- pression reveals a character of iron which never recoiled before any obstacle." CHAPTER VI THE CONDOTTIERI J.HE name of Colleoni invites a mo- mentary comment on the Condottieri generally, and their effect upon Italy a consideration incidentally throwing some light on certain conditions of life in Venice, which, while differentiating her from all the other cities of the peninsula, probably influenced the course of her school of art, lately under review. The decay of the imperial power which marked the opening of the thirteenth century, coinciding, as it did, with the growing grandeur of the free cities, left the nobles of Italy, whether Guelph or 118 THE CONDOTTIERI 119 Ghibelline, partisans of the Pope or the Emperor, in a very ambiguous position. The security of each now lay only in h's own strength, and hence, as the tcwns increased in wealth and import- ance, the nobles demanded to be made citizens, attracted sometimes by a life of pleasure, sometimes by the desire of obaining influence in the councils of powerful republics who, standing in need of good captains, often welcomed them glidly. But, being themselves always divided b T hereditary feuds, the new-comers re- girded it as disgraceful to submit to the kw, and, accustomed in their own castles J o decide every question by the sword, carried the same habit into the towns, rheir houses were fortresses whence hundreds of armed retainers could issue at a moment's notice, and their broils 120 VENICE brought disorder into every street and square. Their satellites were commonly mere banditti who, like their masters, held all trades but that of warfare in contempt, and took advantage of every tumult to plunder the merchants, wlo were continually on the watch to cl