_Lat._ S. Marcus. _Ital._ San Marco Evangelista. _Fr._ St. Marc.
_Ger._ Der Heilige Marcus. (April 25. A.D. 68.)
St. Mark the Evangelist was not one of the twelve Apostles: his
conversion apparently took place after the ascension. He was the
companion and assistant of Paul and Barnabas, with whom he preached the
Gospel among the Gentiles. According to the traditions received in the
Roman Church, he was converted by St. Peter, and became his favourite
disciple; attended him first to Aquileia, where they converted and
baptized the people on the shores of the Adriatic, and thence to Rome.
While there he wrote his gospel for the use of the Roman converts,—some
say from the dictation of the apostle. He afterwards, by command of St.
Peter, went to preach the Gospel in Egypt; and after preaching in Lybia
and Thebais for twelve years, he founded the church of Alexandria,
subsequently one of the most celebrated of all the early Christian
churches. The ire of the heathen being stirred up against him because
of his miracles, they reviled him as a magician, and, during the feast
of their god Serapis, seized him while in the act of worship, bound
him, and dragged him along the streets and highways, and over stony and
rocky places, till he perished miserably; at the same time a dreadful
tempest of hail and lightning fell upon his murderers, by which they
were dispersed and destroyed. The Christians of Alexandria buried his
mangled remains, and his sepulchre was regarded with great reverence
for several centuries. About 815 A.D., some Venetian merchants trading
to Alexandria carried off the relics (literally stole them,—‘_convey_
the wise it call!’), and they were deposited in the city of Venice,
where the stately church of St. Mark was built over them. Since that
time, St. Mark has been honoured as the patron saint of Venice, and
his legendary history has supplied the Venetian painters with many
beautiful and picturesque subjects.
When St. Mark is represented as one of the four Evangelists, either
singly or grouped with the others, he is almost invariably accompanied
by the lion, winged or unwinged, but generally winged,—which
distinguishes him from St. Jerome, who is also accompanied by the lion,
but unwinged, as we shall see hereafter.
In devotional representations, St. Mark often wears the habit of
bishop, as first bishop of Alexandria. He is thus represented in the
colossal mosaic over the principal door of St. Mark’s at Venice[108] in
the pontificals of a Greek bishop, no mitre, short grey hair and beard;
one hand raised in benediction, the other holding the gospel.
Of the innumerable pictures in which St. Mark figures as patron of
Venice, I can afford to give a few examples only.
1. A. Busati. He is seated on a throne; an open book in one hand,
bearing inscribed the Venetian motto (‘_la Leggenda de’ Veneti_‘) PAX
TIBI, MARCE, EVANGELISTA MEUS; the other hand blessing: behind him a
fig-tree, with leaves and no fruit; probably in allusion to the text,
ch. xi. 13, which is peculiar to St. Mark. On his right stands St.
Andrew bearing a cross; on the left St. Bernardino of Siena; behind him
the apple-tree which ‘brought death into the world and all our woe.’
This votive picture, from its mystical accessories and the introduction
of St. Bernardino, was probably painted for the Franciscans (_i Frari_)
of Venice: it is now in the Academy there.
2. St. Mark on a lofty throne holds his gospel in his hand; at his feet
the four saints who are protectors against sickness and pestilence, St.
Sebastian, St. Roch, St. Cosmo, and St. Damian: a splendid picture,
in Titian’s early manner.[109] 3. St. Mark plants the standard of
Venice, by Bonifazio. And 4. ‘San Marco che assista all’ coscrizione
maritima;’ (i.e. the enlisting of the mariners for the service of the
State) by G. del Moro, both curious instances of the manner in which
the Venetians mixed up their patron saint with all their political and
military transactions. 5. St. Mark presents the Doge Leonardo Dona to
the Virgin; the most remarkable of a numerous class of votive pictures
common in the Venetian school, in which St. Mark introduces either the
Doge or some general or magnifico to the Virgin.[110]
Among the devotional pictures of St. Mark, one of the most famous is
that of Fra Bartolomeo, in the Palazzo Pitti. He is represented as a
man in the prime of life, with bushy hair and a short reddish beard,
throned in a niche, and holding in one hand the gospel, in the other a
pen; the lion is omitted. The Frate painted this picture for his own
convent of San Marco at Florence. It is much lauded and celebrated,
but the attitude appeared to me rather forced, and the features rather
commonplace.
The legend which describes St. Mark as the disciple and amanuensis
of St. Peter, has given occasion for those votive pictures in which
they are represented together. 1. In the treasury of St. Mark’s is
preserved a golden reliquary of a square form, containing, it is said,
a fragment of the original gospel in the handwriting of St. Mark; the
chased cover represents St. Peter on a throne, and before him kneels
the evangelist, writing from his dictation.[111] 2. And again, in an
ancient Greek Evangelarium, St. Mark is seated, writing; St. Peter
stands before him with his hand raised as dictating. 3. In a beautiful
picture by Angelico da Fiesole,[112] St. Peter is in a pulpit preaching
to the Romans; and Mark, seated, is taking down his words in a book.
4. St. Peter and St. Mark standing together, the former holding a
book, the latter a pen, with an inkhorn suspended from his girdle, by
Bellini;[113] and, 5, a similar one by Bonvicino—very beautiful.[114]
Such pictures are extremely interesting, showing the opinion generally
entertained of the origin of St. Mark’s Gospel.
Historical pictures from the legendary life of St. Mark abound in the
Venetian school, but are not often found out of Venice.
St. Mark preaching the Gospel at Alexandria, by Gentil Bellini,[115]
a very large composition with numerous figures, is on many accounts
extremely curious. The painter, who had been at Constantinople,
transferred to Alexandria the Oriental scenery and costume with which
he had become acquainted. The church of St. Euphemia at Alexandria, in
the background, has the air of a Turkish mosque; a crowd of persons,
men and women, in the costume of the Turks, surround the saint, who is
standing on a kind of pedestal or platform, ascended by a flight of
steps, from which he addresses his audience with great fervour. Gentil
Bellini painted this picture for the Scuola di San Marco, at Venice.
It is related that one day St. Mark, in his progress through the city
of Alexandria, saw a poor cobbler, who had wounded his hand severely
with his awl, so as to be incapacitated from gaining his bread: St.
Mark healed the wound; and the cobbler, whose name was Anianus, being
converted and properly instructed, became a zealous Christian, and
succeeded St. Mark as bishop of Alexandria. This miraculous cure of St.
Anianus, and his subsequent baptism, are represented in two pictures
by Mansueti.[116] In the Berlin Gallery is the cure of St. Anianus, by
Cima da Conegliano; a large composition with many figures. The cure
and baptism of St. Anianus, represented as a very aged man, form the
subjects of two fine bas-reliefs on the façade of the School of St.
Mark, by Tullio Lombardo, A.D. 1502.
In the Martyrdom of St. Mark, he is dragged through the streets by the
enraged populace, who haul him along by a rope; a storm from above
overwhelms the idolaters. The subject is thus represented by Angelico
da Fiesole.[117]
* * * * *
A famous legend of St. Mark, which has been the subject of several
pictures, can only be worthily given in the language of the old
Venetian chronicle: there is something perfectly charming in the
picturesque naïveté and matter-of-fact detail with which this wild and
wonderful story is related; and if you, reader, have ever stood on the
steps of the Piazzetta and looked over to San Giorgio, or San Niccolò,
when the waves of the Lagune were foaming and driving up to your feet,
and storm-clouds stooping and lowering seemed to touch the very domes
and campanile around, then you will have the whole scene as a reality
before you.
‘On the 25th of February, 1340, there fell out a wonderful thing in
this land; for during three days the waters rose continually, and in
the night there was fearful rain and tempest, such as had never been
heard of. So great was the storm that the waters rose three cubits
higher than had ever been known in Venice; and an old fisherman being
in his little boat in the canal of St. Mark, reached with difficulty
the Riva di San Marco, and there he fastened his boat, and waited the
ceasing of the storm. And it is related that, at the time this storm
was at the highest, there came an unknown man, and besought him that he
would row him over to San Giorgio Maggiore, promising to pay him well;
and the fisherman replied, “How is it possible to go to San Giorgio?
we shall sink by the way!” But the man only besought him the more that
he should set forth. So, seeing that it was the will of God, he arose
and rowed over to San Giorgio Maggiore; and the man landed there, and
desired the boatman to wait. In a short while he returned with a young
man; and they said, “Now row towards San Niccolò di Lido.” And the
fisherman said, “How can one possibly go so far with one oar?” And they
said, “Row boldly, for it shall be possible to thee, and thou shalt
be well paid.” And he went; and it appeared to him as if the waters
were smooth. Being arrived at San Niccolò di Lido, the two men landed,
and returned with a third, and, having entered into the boat, they
commanded the fisherman that he should row beyond the two castles. And
the tempest raged continually. Being come to the open sea, they beheld
approaching, with such terrific speed that it appeared to fly over the
waters, an enormous galley full of demons (as it is written in the
Chronicles, and Marco Sabellino also makes mention of this miracle):
the said bark approached the castles to overwhelm Venice, and to
destroy it utterly; anon the sea, which had hitherto been tumultuous,
became calm; and these three men, having made the sign of the cross,
exorcised the demons, and commanded them to depart, and immediately
the galley or the ship vanished. Then these three men commanded the
fisherman to land them, the one at San Niccolò di Lido, the other at
San Giorgio Maggiore, and the third at San Marco. And when he had
landed the third, the fisherman, notwithstanding the miracle he had
witnessed, desired that he would pay him; and he replied, “Thou art
right; go now to the Doge, and to the Procuratore of St. Mark, and tell
them what thou hast seen, for Venice would have been overwhelmed had it
not been for us three. I am St. Mark the evangelist, the protector of
this city; the other is the brave knight St. George; and he whom thou
didst take up at the Lido is the holy bishop St. Nicholas. Say to the
Doge and to the Procuratori[118] that they are to pay you; and tell
them likewise that this tempest arose because of a certain schoolmaster
dwelling at San Felice, who did sell his soul to the devil, and
afterwards hanged himself.” And the fisherman replied, “If I should
tell them this, they will not believe me.” Then St. Mark took off a
ring which was on his finger, which ring was worth five ducats; and he
said, “Show them this, and tell them when they look in the sanctuary
they will not find it:” and thereupon he disappeared. The next morning,
the said fisherman presented himself before the Doge and related all he
had seen the night before, and showed him the ring for a sign. And the
Procuratori having sent for the ring, and sought in the usual place,
found it not; by reason of which miracle the fisherman was paid, and a
solemn procession was ordained, giving thanks to God, and to the relics
of the three holy saints, who rest in our land, and who delivered us
from this great danger. The ring was given to Signor Marco Loredano
and to Signor Andrea Dandolo the Procuratori, who placed it in the
sanctuary; and, moreover, a perpetual provision was made for the aged
fisherman above mentioned.’[119]
This legend is the subject of two celebrated pictures:—The first,
attributed to Giorgione,[120] represents the storm. A ship, manned by
demons, is seen towering over the waves: the demons appear to be seized
with consternation; some fling themselves headlong over the side of
their vessel, others are clinging to the rigging, others sit on the
masts which flame with fire, and the glare is seen over the murky sky
and sea. More in front are two barks, one rowed by four satyr-like
demons, splendid figures admirably painted, literally glowing as if
they were red-hot, and full of fierce animation. In the other bark
are seen the three saints, St. Mark, St. Nicholas, and St. George,
rowed by the fisherman; sea-monsters are sporting amid the waves,
demons bestride them; the city of Venice is just visible in the far-off
distance. The whole picture is full of vigour and poetic feeling; the
fiery glow of colour and the romantic style of Giorgione suited the
subject; and it has been admirably restored.
The second picture is by Paris Bordone,[121] and represents the
fisherman presenting the miraculous ring of St. Mark to the Doge
Gradenigo. It is like a grand piece of scenic decoration: we have
before us a magnificent marble hall, with columns and buildings in
perspective; to the right, on the summit of a flight of steps, sits
the Doge in council; the poor fisherman, ascending the steps, holds
forth the ring. The numerous figures, the vivid colour, the luxuriant
architecture, remind us of Paul Veronese, with, however, more delicacy,
both in colour and execution.
* * * * *
A Christian slave, in the service of a certain nobleman of Provence,
disobeyed the commands of his lord, and persisted in paying his
devotions at the shrine of St. Mark, which was at some distance. On his
return home, he was condemned to the torture. As it was about to be
inflicted, the saint himself descended from heaven to aid his votary;
the instruments of torture were broken or blunted, the oppressor and
his executioners confounded. This legend is the subject of a celebrated
picture by Tintoretto,[122] of which Mr. Rogers had the original
sketch. The slave lies on the ground amid a crowd of spectators, who
look on, animated by all the various emotions of sympathy, rage,
terror; a woman in front, with a child in her arms, has always been
admired for the life-like vivacity of her attitude and expression.
The executioner holds up the broken implements; St. Mark, with a
headlong movement, seems to rush down from heaven in haste to save his
worshipper; the dramatic grouping in this picture is wonderful; the
colouring, in its gorgeous depth and harmony, is in Mr. Rogers’s sketch
finer than in the picture.
* * * * *
In St. Mark’s, at Venice, we find the whole history of St. Mark on the
vault of the Cappella Zen (opening from the Baptistery), in a series
of very curious mosaics of the twelfth century. The translation of the
body of St. Mark; the carrying off the relics from Alexandria; their
arrival in Venice; the grand religious ceremonies which took place on
their arrival; are also represented in the mosaics over the portico
of St. Mark’s, executed chiefly between 1650 and 1680. We have the
same legend in two compositions of Tintoretto:[123] in the first, the
remains of St. Mark are taken forcibly from the tomb by the Venetian
mariners; in the other, they are borne away to sea in a night-storm,
while in the air is seen hovering a bright transparent form,—the soul
of the saint flitting with his body to Venice.