The Dogaressa’s clothing, if not quite “of fine gold” was of the

richest damask and the fairest linen procurable; her marriage coffer

was full of marvels. Everything she wore was heavily scented, so that

wherever she went a delicious perfume was scattered around and about.

Probably Cleopatra was Teodora’s best-loved model, not indeed that she

ever went so far as to dissolve pearls in sour wine or place biting

vipers in her bosom! There is a very beautiful painting by a pupil of

Paris Bordone--perhaps by the master himself--of a “_Gentildonna

Venetta_” in the dress of the Eastern queen--may it not have been

inspired by the story of the Dogaressa Teodora!

What a thousand pities it is that art was too crude in the eleventh

century to permit of an actual portrait of the Venetian Queen of

Fashion Teodora!

We know not whether she was fair or dark, tall or short, embonpoint

or thin. The probabilities are that she was blonde, as most Greek

beauties were, but any attractions her figure may have offered as a

bride possibly were diminished when she became a matron. High living,

sensuous conduct and idleness bring their punishment to most men and

women, and Teodora Selvo was no exception to the rule.

Plain old Pietro Diacono,--that unmercifully exact chronicler of

things Venetian,--speaks of Teodora’s “_Tanta delicatezza_.”

He says:--“Her Serenity’s sinful voluptuousness and inordinate

self-indulgence brought with them a judgment. About two years after her

marriage with the Lord Selvo the Dogaressa was attacked by a putrid

fever. The malady became at last so insufferably distasteful that the

proud daughter of Constantine was an object in her latest moments of

mingled compassion and abhorrence to all around her. She was left to

die alone almost, the victim of outrageous splendour and outrageous

uncleanness!”

The Dogaressa Teodora died in 1083.

As to the exact negotiation which ended in Domenigo Selvo leading home

an imperial bride, we have no information. That he was astute enough

to get the best of a bargain goes without saying, for, in common with

the generality of Venetians he was able to weigh the promises of one

favourable alliance against the presumed advantages of another.

Possessed of immense wealth and of the faculty of ever adding to it,

fortuitously enough for him, the Imperial Government at Constantinople

was at the period of Selvo’s embassy in dire need of funds. The Army

was mutinous through the non-payment of the troops, the Navy was

undermanned and unready for action, and the Exchequer was depleted.

Selvo, and those who saw what he saw, feared oppression from the

Germans and the French, and when another power,--the Norsemen,--as

mighty or mightier than Venice on the Seas pushed conquests along

the Mediterranean shores, all eyes turned to their natural ally at

Constantinople. An alliance was arranged, Venetian ships and men were

placed at the service of the Imperial Government, and the hand of the

Emperor’s sister was thrown into the bargain.

The Doge took command in person of the fleet which gave battle to the

bold Norsemen under Roberto Guiscardo at Durazzo and vanquished them,

but, alas, he was defeated later on at Corfu. Nevertheless, Selvo

showed splendidly the grit that was in him and wore the laurels he

gained triumphantly.

One other enterprise--a peaceful one also endeared him to his

fellow-citizens--his love for the Ducal Palace and for San Marco. With

rare munificence he embellished both edifices with rare marbles and

mosaics which he had collected in the Orient, and dowered both edifices

with revenues.

The manner of his death is not recorded, some say he abdicated, soon

after the arrival of the Dogaressa, in favour of his son, Michele, and

ended his days in a monastery. Anyhow he survived his unhappy wife but

a short twelve months and left the direction of State affairs to the

care of his former coadjutor Vitale Faliero who in 1085 assumed the

proud title of Doge of Venice, Croatia, and Dalmatia.

Teodora Selvo was not forgotten by the Venetians. She had, in all her

recklessness of life, been a splendid figure-head for the State, no

less than a generous patroness of the industries of her adopted city.

Much of the extravagance which marked the manners of the nobles, at the

end of the eleventh century, was due to her example.

One very excellent fashion survived her--and still survives--the love

of perfumes. The botteghe of the apothecaries and perfumers in the

Merceria were made, by the Dogaressa’s example, the fashionable daily

rendezvous of the best people in Venice and so they have remained. None

to-day are so fond of scent and cosmétiques as the Venetians of all

classes. Still in Chioggia, and other outlying portions of the lagunes,

women of every station, are remarkable for the painting of the face,

the dyeing of the hair, and other gentle artifices.

The Tuscan motto:--“L’Uomo fa le legge--la donna i costumi”--was true

of Venice what time the fascinating Dogaressa Teodora set the fashions

in the Piazza.

III

The last of the four chief or “Apostolic” ruling families of Venice

to gain the _dogado_ was that of the Michieli. The designation

“Apostolic” was assigned to each of the twelve foremost families in the

roll of nobility--the families of the twelve Tribunes who joined in

the election of the first Doge Paolo Lucio Anafesto. Their names were

enrolled in 709 at Eraclea:--Badoeri (Orseoli), Candiani, Contarini,

Morosini, Gradenighi, Memi, Falieri, Michieli, Dandoli, Poli, Barozzi,

and Tiepoli.

The very name “Michielo” indicates their origin--descendants of Greek

colonists in Veneto. They were among the fugitives from Altino, who

fled to the lagunes on the approach of the Longobards, and settled on

the _lido_ of Torcello.

[Illustration: A DOGARESSA AND HER MAIDS OF HONOUR.

FROM A PRINT. 1560.

“Habiti d’Huomini e Donne.”--G. Franco.]

The first Michielo to be elected Doge was Vitale, in 1096, in

succession to Vitale Faliero, under whom the new Republic shattered

the last shreds of vassalage to the Byzantine Empire. Vitale Faliero’s

consort was Cornella Bembo, who presented her spouse with a daughter to

whom he gave the name of Enrica, after her sponsor, the Emperor Enrico,

thus confirming the new alliance with the Germanic powers.

The Bembi came from Eraclea and were reckoned one of the four noble

families of the second grade, who, in 800, signed the roll of nobility

in the church of San Giorgio Maggiore. They, with the Giustiniani,

Cornari and Bragadini, were styled “Evangelistic.”

Vitale Michielo married Donna Felicia Cornaro,--“gracious in speech,

modest in bearing, the goodness of her soul shone out in the sweetness

of her countenance,”--so is she spoken of by the chronicler. Perhaps

too Sansovino’s estimate of the women of the Michielo period may be

most strictly applied to the Dogaressa Felicia:--“Having made it their

aim to be peaceful and religious, they kept on an equality with one

another, that equality might induce stability and concord. They made

their dress a matter of conscience, conformable to their seriousness

of demeanour--concealing the figure.” This was undoubtedly a reaction

from the dazzling personality of Dogaressa Teodora and the fascinating

frivolities of her regime.

Tales of the sufferings endured by Christian pilgrims in Palestine

reached Venice what time the virtuous Dogaressa Felicia influenced

the counsels of her husband for good. At first they attracted little

sympathy, for the Venetians were too much absorbed with their own

domestic development and with the condition of their home politics, to

take much heed to foreign affairs.

To the Dogaressa directly was due the initiations of efforts on behalf

of the poor Syrians and the strangers within their gates. She persuaded

the Doge to convene a meeting of the heads of families in support of

the Crusade so eloquently preached by Peter the Hermit, and other

holy men. By way of raising funds to assist in the sacred enterprise

Dogaressa Felicia set an example of self-denial and liberality, by

giving up her splendid jewels and dresses for sale; she also greatly

restricted her personal pleasures and the hospitalities of the Ducal

Palace.

This noble conduct, which was provocative of the best results, was

recorded upon her tomb in the portico of San Marco. The lengthy

inscription states that “Felicia Vitalis lived and died in the fear and

love of God; she hated luxury and was an example for all good women.”

So great was her influence that in 1099 two hundred ships assembled at

the Lido, each of which carried at her helm the hallowed ensign she

presented to their commanders. Sailors, troops and equipment from every

European state were poured into Venice, and her fleet conveyed them

safely to Syrian ports.

The Doge and Dogaressa spared not their own family, for their

first-born, Giovanni, a mere youth, sailed with the leader of the

Venetian contingent, Arrigo Contarini, Bishop of Castello. Mothers of

Venetian lads hastened to follow the good Dogaressa’s example, and

parted tearfully but prayerfully with their dearest and their best.

After the departure of the Crusaders the Dogaressa busied herself in

the foundation of hospitals and homes of rest for pilgrims on their

way to the Holy Sepulchre. Preparations too were made for the care of

the wounded, the ailing and the sad on their return from service under

the Cross. Women’s work is never so noble as when it links the care of

suffering humanity to the cause of faith and hope. Dogaressa Felicia

was messenger of pity and angel of love to all around her.

The Crusade met with vicissitudes of course, but at length, their aim

attained, the saintly Crusaders returned to Venice, bearing with them

the body of Saint Nicholas of Myra or Morea. Well may we imagine the

rejoicings of the mothers and sweethearts of Venice when they descried

the coloured sails of the home-coming vessels making for the Lido! The

battle-songs and hymns of the Christian warriors were wafted over the

gently rippling blue water, and they found an ecstatic response in the

sweet voices of women and children gathered all along the sandy beach.

The holy relics were landed ceremoniously at the Lido, and, with pomp

and circumstance escorted to the church of San Niccolo: they were the

undeniable tokens of fervent and successful devotion in the service

of Christ’s cross and sepulchre. Women almost forgot the sadness of

bereavement,--for many homes were desolate,--in their joy and gladness

at the accomplishment of the holy enterprise.

One other notable event in the _dogado_ of Vitale Michielo I. was

the appeal of the great Countess Matilda of Tuscany to the Dogaressa

Felicia to use her influence with the Venetians,--who were devoted to

her,--for the recovery of Ferrara which had revolted. She recognised

that the noble spouse of the Doge of Venice possessed all the

attributes of religion, justice, and benevolence. The plea was not in

vain, and ships and seamen of Venice regained for the Countess the

rebel city.

Doge Vitale Michielo died in 1102, and Dogaressa Felicia in 1111. They

were both buried at San Zaccaria.

The most famous of the Michieli Doges was Domenigo (1117–1130) grandson

of Vitale I. His immediate predecessor was Ordelafo Faliero whose

_dogado_ was memorable by reason of its terrors--earthquakes, floods,

fires and pestilence! Dogaressa Matelda, cousin, or as some say, sister

of Baldwin, King of Jerusalem, headed the crowd of panic-stricken

women who thronged the churches to supplicate Heaven for pity and

forgiveness. She tried to dissuade her husband from personally leading

the naval demonstration, which Venice made against the Greeks, saying

that:--“The place of the Doge, as the father of his people, is in

their midst during tribulation.” Dandolo speaks of her as a “miracle

of probity,” and says, “Her fame was widely spread about as a model of

what a good wife should be.” Nevertheless Doge Faliero went on board

his war-galley and met under the walls of Zara a hero’s death.

Sad was Dogaressa Matelda as she met the returning warships, and

broken-hearted as she took possession of her beloved husband’s body.

Slightly comforted was she however, when his lieutenant placed in her

hands holy reliquaries, wherein reposed a splinter of the True Cross,

and relics of St James the Less, and of Saint Plato the Confessor

of Constantinople. She assisted in the solemn procession which

accompanied these holy treasures to their last resting-place in San

Giorgio Maggiore. Then she quietly retired, as a good example, to her

contemplative cell at San Zaccaria.

Another story relates that Doge Faliero was only wounded at Zara, and,

having accomplished his mission and administered punishment to the

Greek pirates of the Gulf, he sailed on to Constantinople, and there

secured the venerable relics and with them returned to Venice. With

the Dogaressa he shared the honours of the translation of the precious

prizes he had obtained, and helped to bear on his shoulder the body of

Saint Stephen to its last resting-place in the chapel of San Giorgio

Maggiore; then he and she renounced their high station and humbly

dedicated the residue of their lives to the peace of the cloister.

Domenigo Michielo was cast in a sterner mould. Pious, no doubt as most

Venetians were, and imbued with a spirit of reverence as a devoted son

of the Church, he has come down to us with the title “_Cattolico Uomo

e Audace!_”

The desire that the people of Venice expressed for the possession of

relics of the Saints became almost an infatuation. It was the popular

belief that the terrors of Heaven and the disasters of earth could best

be met by the deposition of the bodies of martyrs on Venetian ground.

Hence Doge Domenigo acquired the body of Saint Isidoro from the island

of Sio, and that of Saint Donato Bishop of Eurœa from Cephalonia, and

with the latter the bones of the dragon, which beast he slew!

These were some of the spoils of the Second Crusade wherein Venice

took an active and noble part, and from which she obtained great

political results and immense booty. Very acrimonious were the debates

and consultations on the part of the Crusader chiefs and keen their

rivalries for saintly distinctions and profit. Each of them had an eye

to personal advancement and shirked the hardships of the campaign.

Domenigo reproved them sternly:--“Those,” he said, “who share the glory

of our enterprise must be prepared to share its trials.”

The fleet of Venice not only aided greatly the pilgrims and the forces

despatched from all lands to Palestine, but, turning homewards, ravaged

the Grecian Archipelago. The name of Venice was renowned as that

of--“The Greatest Sea Power of Europe,” and Doge Michielo was hailed

as--the epitaph upon his tomb in San Giorgio Maggiore--“The Terror of

the Greeks and the Glory of Venice.”

In his train he brought to Venice many distinguished captives, among

them the Lady Sofia--a beautiful Eastern houri, who was carried off

by Domenigo Morosini, by him raised to the Ducal seat, and, at last,

buried with him in the church of Santa Croce.

Years of peace and prosperity followed, such as Venice had rarely

experienced. She was coming to be looked upon as the nursery of the

Fine Arts and the boudoir of the Graces, as well as Patroness of the

Crafts and the “Mistress of the Seas.”

The frequent and often protracted absences of the Doge in command of

fleets, from time to time despatched to punish pirates and marauders

and maintain the prestige of the flag of Venice in foreign waters, by

no means diminished the importance and privileges of the Dogaressa.

As the First Lady of the Commonwealth she had many responsibilities

which were greatly enlarged when her Consort was not in residence.

If she had no position with respect to the Council of State and had

nothing whatever to do with politics, there were numerous duties

which devolved upon her. The patronage and direction of charities of

all kinds--whether eleemosynary or educational, the maintenance of

the Ducal hospitalities, the reception of ambassadors, the claims of

family, and the encouragement of arts and crafts gave her Serenity much

to devise and do.

As Consort of a militant Head of the State she was expected to exhibit

all the virtues of a virago, and to introduce virility into all the

feminine avocations of the day. If indeed her powers for usefulness

were limited by restrictions she easily cast aside many of the

conventions of her position. Such was the _rôle_ in particular of

the Donna Alicia, the able wife of Doge Domenigo Michielo. She lived up

to the reputation of her husband, sharing his anxieties, his ambitions

and his success.

When stricken by the labours and responsibilities of his office he

sought relief in abdication and seclusion in the monastery, Dogaressa

Alicia, however, asserted herself, and, instead of retiring to a

convent, as she was expected to do, she determined that neither the

prayers and meditations of the cloister, nor the self-effacement and

bigotry of a recluse should enslave her energies.

The _Societa de’ Pinzocchere_--“Bigots!”--to which many of the

noble widows of Venice belonged, had no attraction for Donna Alicia.

To be merely a hired mourner at State funerals was no life for her.

She had her children to put out into the world and, in particular, she

had her sons to prepare for high places under Government. Whilst, by

necessity she had to yield the pre-eminence to the actual Dogaressa,

her successor, she remained a free agent and a very useful and

dependable confidante for men and women who had shared the toils and

the rewards of her husband’s _dogado_. In due time Dogaressa

Alicia’s prescience had its reward. Her son Vitale Michielo II.--the

child of his mother’s solicitude, was elected Doge in 1156.

By his high tone and probity he raised the position of Doge to its

highest level and reigned almost as a Sovereign Prince. His two sons

he married well--Leonardo, created Count of Osero, to Alecia daughter

of the King of Servia, and Niccolo, Count of Arbe, to Maria niece of

Stefano, King of Hungary. To him was due the admission annually of

forty young nobles to the rank of “Barbarini” among the members of the

Grand Council; and the first silver coinage of Venice, together with

the foundation of the first public Bank.

Alas Doge Vitale, who espoused the cause of the Papacy against the

Emperor Frederic Barbarossa, came to an untimely end. Seeking sanctuary

one day from a crowd of ruffians,--many of alien origin,--who demanded

largesse he knocked at the gate of the convent of San Zaccaria. Before

the porter could open to him the ill-conditioned wretches were upon

him and offering personal violence if their claims were not satisfied.

The Doge turned to address the men, and as he did so, one, Casiolo, a

discharged gondolier lately in the Ducal service, struck him with his

stiletto. This was the signal for a brutal assault, and before succour

could arrive Vitale Michielo’s body was hacked to pieces in the street!

Dogaressa Felicita Maria, daughter of Boemodo Prince of Antioch, it was

said was at the time paying a visit to the nuns: so dumbfounded was

she at the tragedy that nothing could shake her resolution never to

leave the convent,--and there she remained and died. She and her sons

were great benefactors to Venice. They greatly enriched the patrimony

of San Zaccaria, and endowed the monastery and built the church of San

Giovanni Evangelista.

A very pathetic and romantic episode in the history of the family of

Doge Vitale II. and Dogaressa Felicita Maria Michielo was the marriage

of their daughter Anna. Inspired by the holy example and goodly

precepts of her mother Anna Michielo had taken the vows of an enclosed

nun at the convent of Sant’ Adriana d’Amiano, where she meditated

deeply upon the trials of the Christians in Syria, and prayed for the

weal of sons of Venice gone forth to the Holy War.

In the disastrous expedition in 1170 against the Emperor Emmanuel

Commeno all the young men of the Venetian family of Giustiniani were

slain--save one. Niccolo Giustiniani was a monk in the Benedictine

monastery of San Niccolo di Lido, where he had been professed when Anna

Michielo renounced her love for him to become, by fervent self-denial,

a Bride of Christ.

The extinction of a noble family in those days was a thing of

rare occurrence: the State usually stepped in to prevent such

a catastrophe. This was the course adopted with respect to the

Giustiniani. Niccolo at San Niccolo and Anna at Sant’ Adriana were

summoned from their cells, and, with the express permission of Pope

Alexander III., were joined together, vows or no vows, in the holy

estate of matrimony.

Never was there a happier conjunction of kindred souls, and never so

auspicious a resuscitation of a family-tree. Anna Giustiniani gave

to her husband--her true and only love--twelve pledges of marital

affection. Nine of them were sons. So worthy Anna was in truth and deed

the “Mother of the Giustiniani!”

All twelve olive-branches reached maturity and then, Niccolo and Anna,

freed from family cares, agreed to separate once more and, as the

highest act of self-denial, to renew the sacred vow of chastity, and

again entered upon the seclusion and the silence of the cell. With holy

Anna went her three young daughters Martha, Margherita and Bartoletta.

The two former returned to the world upon their marriage, but

Bartoletta followed her mother’s example and became a nun. Soon after,

and during saintly Anna’s life, the nuns were removed from the island

convent of Sant’ Adriana to Venice proper, and took possession of their

new home at Santa Caterina, of which Bartoletta was named first Abbess.

Anna died in the odour of sanctity, and she is still remembered by

devout Venetian women in prayer and example as “Beata Anna Giustiniani.”

It was in the days of Doge Vitale Michielo II. that three brothers

came to Venice from Morea, and settled themselves and their goods

in a small _casa_ on the Fondaco de’ Mastelli. Rioba, Sando,

and Africo were their names, but because of their origin they were

popularly called Mori, and their arms displayed a Moor leading a laden

camel--the most stupid of beasts. They soon acquired wealth and set

about rebuilding their humble residence. At the corner of the new

palace, on the Campo de’ Mori, they stuck up three sculptured figures

of themselves under the guise of Saints Mark, Theodore, and John

Baptist. They were very highly coloured and soon became laughing-stocks

to passers-by.

Two of the figures disappeared mysteriously, and the Baptist alone

remained, but his name was changed to “Sior Antonio Rioba Pantaleone.”

It became a custom for jocular Venetians to send unsophisticated

youths and over-trustful strangers with messages to the “Sior,” much

as we were wont to treat our friends on “April-Fool Day!” At a later

date “Sior Rioba’s” mouth became the receptacle for denunciations of

enemies--so fitful are the customs of people!

IV

The splendid _dogado_ of Sebastiano Ziani (1172–1178) was remarkable

for one event, at least, of romantic and historic interest--the first

“Espousals of Venice and the Sea.”

In March 1177 Pope Alexander III. arrived at the Lido after weary

stately wanderings through Europe. He was received with joy and honour

by all classes of the community: they were fervent Catholics and cared

little about questions and parties for or against Papacy which moved

other States. Residing pompously at the Palace of the Patriarch of

Grado, his Holiness entered fully into the ecclesiastical and political

affairs of the city.

Doge Ziani was absent in command of the Venetian fleet, and in May news

reached Venice that he had gained a decisive victory at Salboro over

the Emperor Frederic Barbarossa, and that his son and heir, Prince

Otto, was a prisoner of war. The whole city turned out to welcome the

victors, with their rich booty and many captives. Upon the beach of

Lido stood the Pontiff--the centre of a notable group of dignitaries

in full robes of state. Alexander was the first to congratulate the

victorious Doge, and at the same time he publicly blessed the brave

seamen and their leaders. Raising the kneeling Doge to his feet the

Pope embraced him, and, taking off one of his own signet rings, he

placed it upon Ziani’s thumb.

“Take this, my son,” he said, “as a token of the true and perpetual

dominion of the sea, which thou and thy successors shall wed every year

upon this auspicious festival of the Ascension, that all men may know

that the sea belongs to Venice, and that she is indissolubly joined

thereto as a bride to her husband.”

Then the whole company adjourned to the venerable church of San Niccolo

where “Te Deum” was sung pontifically. By gondola, and barca, and in

flat-keeled galley, a water pageant made its way to the Piazzetta, and

the rest of the day was spent in general merry-making.

The annual commemoration was made the occasion of universal rejoicing

and pageantry. The Doge and the most distinguished members of the

Council and the foreign ambassadors to Venice took their places on

board a wonderful vessel “_Bucintoro_,” it was called, and in stately

procession went off to the Lido. We must not suppose that only

statesmen and seamen took part in the pageant, for, obviously, it was

an occasion for the display of the personal charms and elegant fashions

of the _gentildonne_. For the use of the Dogaressa and her ladies a

splendid galley was built, shaped like a Grecian temple, and tethered

to a pair of wooden sea-monsters, wherein the forty rowers were seated.

Arrived at the historic spot the Doge and Dogaressa, with their

ecclesiastical and official attendants, embarked in a gaily decorated

boat and set out to sea. Thence the Doge cast a superb ring into the

deep--a ring of gold, enriched with onyx, lapis-lazuli, and malachite,

engraved with the sign of St Mark holding a book of the Gospel.

“Sponsamus te mare nostrum in signum veri et perpetui dominii,”

were the words he uttered solemnly, whilst the clergy from golden

vases sprinkled holy water upon the company and upon the smiling

rippling sea. The Dogaressa and the ladies of her suite cast into the

clear water the lovely nosegays they had brought with them--roses,

carnations, and lilies.

Returning to Venice, after devotions in San Niccolo, the Doge gave a

magnificent banquet in the palace to the notables of the city, and

then all the lovely girls and the comely youths of every class were

entertained at a vast ball, which overflowed the Piazza, and found

relief only in the most distant _calli_. By old prescription

the workmen of the Arsenal were entertained at supper by the Doge

and Dogaressa. Each man had the privilege of keeping his knife and

spoon, his glass and his napkin, and he received besides a silver

medal--bearing the effigies of the Most Serene couple, a case of useful

medicines, a beautiful box of comfits, and a flask of Greek Muscat wine.

In later times the “Marriage of the Sea” was made a second

carnival--lasting fifteen days, during which a great fair was held in

the Piazza with fireworks such as Venetians only knew how to make, each

evening at the Lido.

From Doge Ziani’s day came the annual athletic festival on the Lido.

Lads turned fifteen, and young men up to thirty, after careful

training in their various _sestieri_ or city wards, went off to

the butts and tracks set up upon the beach to contest for prizes

in shooting, wrestling, boxing, running, and other sports. The

competitors were arranged in twelve groups called, “_Duodene_” and

every one was expected to be a proficient bowman. Merchant ships always

carried a certain number of such expert young bowmen. All “catches”

were permissible--indeed kicking, wringing the neck, and all the

features,--brutal as they were,--of the Olympian grievous boxing were

not disallowed. Bamboos as well as fists were used! All classes of the

male folk of the islands were eligible to compete in every contest and

upon equal terms. Matrons and maids thronged to watch and encourage

sons and sweethearts, each fair one scrupulously careful about her

dress and veil. Many a Venetian “Venus du Milo” doubtless longed to

try herself against her companions, but such maiden contests were

inadmissible by the State laws.

[Illustration: GOING TO A MASKED BALL.

FROM A PRINT. 1560.

“Habiti d’Huomini e Donne.”--G. Franco.]

Incidentally these sports, which revived the athletic contests

inaugurated by the Dogaressa Teodora Selvo, gave rise to rivalries

between the inhabitants of the eastern and western halves of the

City, which were ultimately resolved into two opposing parties--the

“_Castellani_” and the “_Nicolotti_.” A neutral zone was ultimately

marked out, whereupon stood the church of San Trovaso. The sacred

building had doors opening west and east so that adherents of both

parties might attend the Divine Offices without encountering one

another. Difficulties however soon arose through the wantonness of

women: maidens of one party were constantly falling in love with men of

the other, and then trouble ensued!

The Emperor Frederic Barbarossa himself came to Venice in July

1177--reconciling himself to the power of the world in the person of

Doge Sebastiano Ziani, and to the power of the Church in the person

of Pope Alexander III. He was sumptuously entertained by the Doge and

Dogaressa. Conquerors and conquered joined together in scenes of gaiety

and splendour. The Doge appeared in regal guise, accompanied by the new

insignia of office, bestowed by the Sovereign Pontiff,--a folding Chair

of State, a Royal Cushion, a golden Sword of State, a great painted

lighted candle, and four silver trumpets. The Dogaressa wore a jewelled

diadem around her Ducal horned cap, the gift of the Pope, and a cape or

mantle of gold brocade, bearing the Imperial cognisance placed around

her shoulders by the Emperor.

Happily Sebastiano Ziani was a wealthy man and so was able to maintain

the Ducal dignity without reproach. He was born in 1102--the son of

Marino Ziani of Santa Giustina in Castello, a noble of ambassadorial

rank. A curious legend was treasured in the family: an ancestor at

Altino, discovered among the ruins of the Temple of Juno, a cow

moulded in solid gold! This was the foundation of the vast riches of

the family,--the wealthiest by far of all in Venice, and known by the

sobriquet “_Famiglia della Vacca d’oro_.” “_L’haver de Ziani!_” became

a proverb--synonymous of the possession of great wealth.

Sebastiano lavished munificence unstintingly in Venice--new bridges,

new facades to buildings, new churches, were witnesses to his

benevolence, and dying, in 1175, he left the bulk of his fortune for

the decoration of San Marco. He abdicated in 1170 and entered the

monastery of San Giorgio Maggiore. No historian has preserved the date

of Dogaressa Cecilia’s death,--probably she too found a refuge in the

ducal convent of San Zaccaria.

It may be interesting to note the prices current during the

_dogado_ of Sebastiano Zani for certain commodities of everyday

life. The following is a brief table of the Autumn sales in 1173:--

Wine (except Greek) 21 soldi per libbra (pound)

Beef--a fair average quality 21 „ „ „

Oil „ „ „ 25 lire „ 1000 libbre

Corn „ „ „ 16–17 soldi per staio (bushel)

Eggs 25 soldi per 400

Fish, sturgeon, trout, and ray 3½ „ „ libbra

„ tench and pike 3 „ „ „

„ gudgeon, red-mullet and gunard 2½ „ „ „

These prices were quoted on the Ponte di Rialto and at the retail

markets on the _fundamenti_: they were controlled by the _Corte

della Giustizia_ which Doge Ziani empanelled.

Games of chance and gambling were always restricted in old Venice, but

in 1175 Niccolo Barattieri, as a reward--_onesta grazia_,--in

the words of the Doge,--for having succeeded when many others had

failed, in lifting and placing the two great pillars of Samos granite

at the end of the Piazzetta, claimed the privilege of opening a

gaming saloon or tent, between the columns. The promise could not

be gainsaid--“whatever the successful engineer likes to ask”--but

to prevent so far as possible the success of the undertaking it was

ordained that all public executions should be carried out on the spot.

Between the two pillars a raised flat stone was placed, and upon it

“are laid, and hath ever been, for the space of three days and three

nights, the heads of all such as are enemies or traitors to the State,

or some notorious offender.”

* * * * *

In all the gorgeous pageantry of Venetian Story, perhaps, no scene is

more striking and more affecting than that which was enacted upon the

Feast of the Nativity of Christ in 1202, within the storied walls of

the most wonderful of all the basilicas of Christendom--San Marco.

In due order within the noble choir were gathered together

representatives of the seventy-and-two churches, and more than

seventy-and-two monasteries of the islands. Before the great screen

stood Christian knights from every European state--clothed in complete

armour and bearing upon their hearts the red cross of pilgrimage. The

great white oriflamme of the Crusade, charged with the red cross of the

Captain of Salvation, was held unfurled by Lord Boniface, Marquis of

Montferrat, commander of the French contingent. It had been wreathed

by ladies of the Doge’s household with white lilies of the Annunciation

and red carnations of the Crucifixion. Around the great pulpit was

assembled all that was fair and virtuous and all that was frail and

voluptuous in Venice. The women’s great black veils, and the girls’

veils of purest white linen, modestly gathered in around their full

open bosoms, revealed beauteous classical features and abundant golden

tresses.

All were fired with ecstatic devotion as, kneeling humbly upon the

stone pavement, they uttered with deep emotion their “_Aves_” and their

“_Paternosters_.” Like the chromatic ripples of a summer sea re-echoed

the orisons aloft upon the resonant mosaics of the lofty roof, and the

devout dropping of innumerable rosary-beads resembled the rolling of

beach pebbles by the beating waves. The women of Venice were gathered

together to encourage their men folk to be true and brave for Christ

and home!

The age and youth of Venice alike mustered there no less wrapt in

devotion than their wives and sweethearts; each man’s _berretta_

is in his hand, his right grasps his sword-hilt, and his knees are bent

in self-dedication. The stripling kneels alongside his sire, and he

again supports a more venerable man,--the grandsire, for the Crusaders

knew no age limit.

A wide avenue down the centre of the great church is left for the

progress of the magistrates, and furtively are eyes turned to the

great open portal as the solemn procession comes into view. Their

Excellencies pass to their places, and, last of all, wearing his full

Ducal State, marches, with the stalwart step Arrigo Dandolo--the Doge.

Lightly, as upon few, sit his ninety-and-four years, his lameness is

hardly noticeable, his back is no longer bent, and his eyes are keen:

his Serenity bears the marks of a hero approaching the zenith of his

career. All eyes are riveted upon the “Grand Old Man of Venice.”

Dandolo makes his obeisance to the Sacred Host,--exposed above the

famous _Pala d’oro_, but, to the universal wonderment, he ascends

not his Ducal seat beside the altar, but mounts the stairway of the

pulpit. With hand raised aloft, and voice piercing and full of purpose,

he cries out:--“Sirs, we are here assembled to engage in the highest of

all human enterprises, Christ calls Venice to fight for His sepulchre

profaned by the hated Turk. I that speak in His Name, am old and feeble

in appearance, but my heart is that of the Lion of Saint Mark. If you

bid me, I am ready to lead you right on to Jerusalem. I will take up my

cross now, and set forth to conquer and to die!”

An intense sensation runs through the immense concourse, and every

man’s sword is raised on high, as the white-headed leader kneels humbly

before the Patriarch, who places the red cross upon his jewelled horned

cap. Women’s sobs mingle in the “_Te Deum_” chanted by the clergy

and choristers, and every bell in every campanile clangs, if not in

harmony still in full-toned sympathy.

Not a man hesitates longer, if Venice has been lukewarm in the matter

of the Crusades, she shall be so no more. The women and the girls

emulously pin the Crusaders’ badges upon the breasts of fathers,

brothers, husbands, sons, and sweethearts, and lead them ungrudgingly

to the water-side, where boats are waiting to carry the warriors

on board the galleys--three hundred of them. The fleet sailed

that evening. In the van were three giant vessels--“_Pelegrina_,”

“_Paradiso_” and “_Aquila_”--upon the latter Doge Dandolo

embarked--holding in his hand the gorgeous crimson banner of San Marco.

“_Veni Creator_” resounded from church to church, _fundamento_ to

_fundamento_, ship to ship, as the fleet sailed out of sight, and then

upon every _riva_ and in every _calle_ were girls and women weeping and

disconsolate--theirs was the true sacrifice, for had they not dedicated

all that was dearest to them to the service of their Lord! The bride

of a day lay clasped in the arms of her who had kept her jubilee, and

little children left their games crying bitterly for fathers and for

brothers they would never see again.

Venice was a city of the dead, no one was there to sing and dance:

women had to turn their hands to manly avocations,--none repined,

and their devotions were redoubled. From noble church, before humble

shrine, and out of simple homes arose passionate appeals. All the nine

patron saints of Venice were invoked, along with Christ’s gracious

Mother. They knew that their suppliant cries would be as efficacious

for the rescue of the Holy Places as the deeds of daring of their men.

The Crusade was a glorious success: wreaths of fame crowned the brow of

Christian warriors and the women of Venice wove garlands of sweetest

flowers to wind lovingly around their necks. The heroes came not

however straight home to Venice but went aside to punish the hateful

Turk in his capital. Doge Dandolo led the attack, but alas, with the

fall of Constantinople fell many of the bravest Venetians, and among

them the venerable Doge. They buried him in the basilica of Saint

Sophia and put up his epitaph:--“_Mult ere sages et proz_”--“One

of the wisest and the best of the Sons of Venice!”--and then they

set sail for home. It was the time of the budding of the rose tree:

the fresh fragrant blossoms of a new life,--a new world,--a new

people,--the year 1205.

* * * * *

The prelude of the “Cantata” of the new century was pitched in the

minor key, but the feeble treble of fatherless children harmonised

pathetically with the full contralto of their mothers:--

“_Misere nobis infelicissime, Maria

Requiescant in pace omnes, Domine._”

Fathers, brothers, husbands, sons and sweethearts returned not to

Venice. She was once more “_Venus Calva_”--Venice, bereft of her

stalwart sons, stripped of her trusty councillors, naked and bereaved.

“Some lay unshrouded in Palestine, and

Some lay in the deep.

For man must go forth to fight and to die

And women must weep.”

There were many widows in Venice.

CHAPTER III

I

Upon the smiling little islet of San Giorgio in Alga, midway between

the Punta di Santa Maria--the westernmost limit of Venice proper, and

Fusina--the principal port of the Laguna Morta, there lived, once upon

a time, a good-looking young fisherman. Zian Zorzio della Laguna,--so

named after his patron Saint, Saint George of Cappadoccia,--as skilful

in his calling as he was comely in his person.

Zorzio had wooed and won the prettiest girl in all Rialto, as

hard-working as himself and as good to look upon. One day Bella offered

her lover an extraordinarily fine fishing-net which she had, unknown

to him, knotted with her own fair hands; and, Zorzio delighted with

the gift, tossing it over his shoulder, went off to dedicate it to his

saintly patron in the island Sanctuary.

Kissed on both cheeks, coloured with the ripest peach-bloom, her golden

hair coiled neatly around her shapely head, save for one rebellious

love-knot upon her brow, the beauteous _innamorata_ waved loving

farewells to her Zorzio as he sculled off in his light _barca_ to

make trial of his treasure.

With a daring cast the spider-web-like mesh sank beneath the gentle

ripples of the lambent water, and the young fellow, confident of a

worthy haul, presently began to pull in his net. “Per Bacco!” cried he,

for something eerie had caught itself in the all but invisible strands

of Bella’s handiwork. A piece of petrified seaweed,--very delicate in

form, very beautiful in colour, very exquisite in texture, verily a

scudding flake of opalescent sea-foam transformed by the mermaids of

the deep into lovely coral lace,--yielded itself to his ready hand.

Zorzio had never beheld such a perfectly beautiful object, and in a

transport of delight he hailed his prize as the pledge of his success

in life. Speeding homewards in the evening he made Bella the sharer of

his good fortune, and she locked up the bit of coral lace safely in the

simple home they had prepared against the next festival of the “Brides.”

Alas, the even tenor of their lives was rudely shattered by a call to

arms, and brave Zorzio was enrolled among seamen drafted for service

in the Orient. Broken-hearted Bella surveyed his empty seat, and her

tears fell fast. Should she ever see her Zorzio again she wondered and

whispered. Looking up at last, her eyes fell upon her lover’s gift--the

lovely spray of coral seaweed. An inspiration seized her mind, and with

alacrity she reached down her lace-pillow, and guided by an unseen

power, she crossed and crossed her bobbins of fine thread until she had

completed, in interlacing arabesques, a similitude of her treasured

model. Thus was invented the far-famed and precious _merletto a

piombini_--the point-lace of Venice. It is a charming story and it

has a striking moral. That piece of coral seaweed was the mascot of the

Venetian Renaissance.

In the morning of the “_Vita Nuova_”--it was the hour of

“Lauds,”--Commerce,--strenuous father, and Industry,--faithful mother,

were busy rearing their numerous family--the vigorous progeny of the

Crafts. Away back in the ninth century, in the days of the “Grand” Doge

Agnello Partecipazio, the Emperor Lothair issued his “_Constitutiones

Olonenses_,” wherein eight cities and towns of Northern Italy are

named as suitable centres for the establishment of the revived Roman

“_Collegia_” or “_Scholæ_”:--Bologna, Cremona, Firenze, Ivrea, Milano,

Padua, Torino and Rivoalto (Venice). In each place the designation of

the _Scholæ_ varied: in Venice they were called “_Fragilia_,”--from

“_Flagelli_,”--whips,--the exact meaning of which it is difficult to

state, perhaps “training schools” wherein learners were _whipped_ into

shape!

Each “_Fragilia_” had its teachers, its pupils, its officers, its

constitution, its duties, and its bylaws. The earliest distinct

mention of a “Trade” is in 826, when a maker of lead pipes for

organs was working away near San Giacomo di Rialto: doubtless the

artificer in question was a Greek, his name has not been preserved.

Orso Partecipazio employed clock-makers in 864 and silversmiths

and carvers of ivory: these craftsmen were Greeks however. The

“_Cassellari_”--makers of _arcelle_ and _cassoni_--formed already a

vigorous Corporation in the time of the rape of the “Venetian Brides.”

The first notice of “_Fabbri_”--blacksmiths, was in 1184 as forming

a “_Fragilia_,” but the _Calle de’ Fabbri_ was a well-known lane in

the tenth century. The Altino Chronicle names Fishermen, Smiths,

Saddlers, Carriers by water, Shepherds, Butchers, Masons, Carpenters,

Cabinet-makers, Shoemakers and Furriers as the earliest incorporated

craftsmen in the islands of the lagunes. “_Marzeri_” or silk-mercers

were established in Rivoalto in 942.

Doge Pietro Polani, in 1143 drafted a “Table of Precedence,” which

established as the premier “_Fragilia_” or Trade-Guild, the Corporation

of Fishermen. Thirty years later Doge Sebastiano Ziani set up the first

“_Corte della Giutizia_” in the interest of traders and operatives.

Thereafter numerous other Crafts are named in Venetian history; but

Venice never attained to the eminence of Florence in the development

of her Guilds--she was _sui generis_ a great sea-port rather than a

metropolis of industry. The thirteenth century first saw the cradle

of the Crafts rocking effectively,--just as the fourteenth furnished

the nursery of the Fine Arts,--and Venice felt the impulse of the new

industries, along with the rest of Italy.

Doge Arrigo Dandolo had annexed one-fourth of the old Roman Empire

to the tutelage of Venice, and ten great Turkish galleons brought

home, with the remnant of her forces, vast treasures,--the loot of

Constantinople and the islands of the Greek Archipelago. Upon the

Piazzetta was outpoured the wealth of the Levant. Never before had

Venetian eyes and hands beheld or handled such creations of art and

craft. Every church and monastery, every palace and mansion, and every

poor man’s home, were enriched by things of joy and beauty. Mothers

and maidens laid up in honoured hiding-places tokens of their heroes

resting in Paradise, and all the sons of Venice gathered objects of

interest which engrossed their intelligences and set their minds and

hands at work to imitate--the fall of Constantinople was the rise of

craftsmanship in the Lagunes.

The Conquest of Constantinople--a notable turning-point in the history

of Venice--was the initial mark of a new era throughout Europe. By

common consent every class of the Venetians welcomed the promise of

new conditions,--social and political,--and set to work to exchange

Oriental ideas and sympathies for the pushful methods and modes of

Northern and Western Europe. The first step was the election of a Doge,

who should be, not only a desirable figure-head for the State, but who,

by his force of character and personal experience, should lead the

Commonwealth along progressive ways.

The qualifications for the _Dogado_ were: (1) Ripe age; (2) Urbane

temperament; (3) Good birth; and (4) Ample private means. One man,

and one man alone, stood out head-and-shoulders above his peers,

as possessed of these four qualities, a man whose thirty years of

distinguished public service placed him in the unique position of first

citizen of Venice. By universal acclamation Pietro Ziani was chosen

to wear the laurel-wreathed _berretta_ of the great Dandolo. The son

of one of the most distinguished of the Doges--Sebastiano Ziani--he

had borne himself nobly as a successful naval commander, a tactful

ambassador, and an upright magistrate. Handsome above the ordinary,

pious without hypocrisy, talented in linguistic and forensic aptitude,

and passionately loyal to the Constitution, he was calmly awaiting his

destiny at his country residence at Arbe in Dalmatia.

A deputation of the Lords of the Council boarded the magnificent

“_Bucintoro_,” and accompanied by thirty galleys, all splendidly

decorated with rare brocades and tapestries, set off to meet and escort

the new Doge. Pietro Ziani’s progress was a triumphal procession,

calling to mind the unanimous and felicitous election of Domenigo Selvo

one hundred and fifty years before. Almost the first act of the new

regime was the affirmation of the cordial relations which his father,

Sebastiano, had entered into with Guglielmo II.--“The Good,” King of

Sicily. Dante refers to the death of this distinguished Sovereign in

Canto XX of the _Paradiso_:--

“William whom the land bewails

So well beloved in Heaven.”

In confirmation of the new treaty the new Doge, in 1213, sought and

gained the hand of the Princess Costanza, daughter of King Tancredo,

Guglielmo’s son and successor. She was the first Norman Dogaressa of

Venice, daughter of a brave and ardent race, a woman of conspicuous

ability and ambition, and an ideal consort for the Head of a

rejuvenated Venice.

Pietro Ziani had but lately buried his first wife, the modest and

beautiful Countess Maria Baseggio--whose father held the high

office of Procurator of San Marco--_nobilis et decora nimis Maria

Dukessa_--as she is called in the Altino Chronicle. The sole

offspring of this union was a son, Giorgio, but, alas, when yet a

child, he was torn to pieces by the savage mastiff watch-dogs of the

monastery of San Giorgio Maggiore. It was said that the Doge was so

infuriated by this misfortune that he ordered the church and monastery

with all the animals,--_the poor monks as well_,--to be consumed

with fire: one may hope the innocent Religious escaped the fury. Anyhow

the rest were all burnt, and then the remorse of Ziani was pitiable. By

way of reparation he set to work at once to rebuild and re-endow what

he had so petulantly sacrificed.

Dogaressa Costanza was handsome and gracious, and wore her Royal

honours with distinction. Palazzi wrote thus of her--“A Queen by birth,

Dogaressa of Venice by marriage, she exhibited all the attributes

of her royal station,--she was also Duchess of Calabria,--and her

high breeding, no less than her beauty, raised her above all petty

jealousies.” In the ancient pack of playing-cards, at the Venetian

Museo Civico, we find her represented upon the “Ten of Spades,” with

the following legend:--“Costanza, daughter of Tancredo King of Naples,

wife of Doge Pietro Ziani, was accustomed to meet all the malcontents

against the Doge and herself with the saying:--‘I have nothing to do

with you!’”

The State being involved in tremendous financial difficulties on

account of the cost of the Crusades, and also in behalf of the

purchase of the island of Crete, in view of the Doge’s great private

wealth,--“_L’haver Ziani_” was quite as true of Pietro as of

Sebastiano--reduced his official salary to 2800 lire, with 100 thrown

in as a free gift. It was further decreed that all tributes to the Doge

should henceforth be shared between him and the treasury of San Marco.

Moreover he was required to make an offering of three silver trumpets

for ceremonial processions, and to undertake the repairs of the Ducal

Palace,--rather a one-sided bargain!

Fifteen years of marital happiness fell to the lot of the Doge and

Dogaressa. Three children were borne by imperious Costanza--Marco,

Marchesina, and Maria. Some authorities say that the Dogaressa died

suddenly in 1228 and that the Doge, broken-hearted, followed her

within a month. The Altino Chronicle however records the abdication

of Pietro Ziani, and adds that he and his Consort, with their family,

retired into private life and went to reside in their palace upon the

_fondamento_ of Santa Giustina, where he died, and then received

sepulture in the church of San Giorgio Maggiore, in the tomb of his

father Sebastiano.

There is still a third version of the deaths of Doge Pietro and

Dogaressa Costanza. In the terrible earthquake of 1220, when the

church and monastery of San Giorgio Maggiore were destroyed, and the

islands of Amiano and Costanzina swallowed up, it was said that many

people died of fright, and among them the Dogaressa. The Doge, sharing

the universal sense of insecurity in Venice, proposed to move the

seat of Government to Constantinople, but, upon the cessation of the

seismic disturbances, wiser counsels prevailed, and he set to work to

rebuild the shattered edifices. In 1229 Pietro Ziani exchanged the

silk-brocaded robe of State for the worsted habit of a Benedictine, and

ended his days in the new monastery of San Giorgio which he had built.

During his _dogado_ a year of Jubilee was appointed by the

Pope--1214--in thankfulness for the general peace; and every Italian

State held festivals and fêtes. Treviso led the way, for nothing could

exceed the beauty and the human interest of the “_Marca Amorosa_.”

The centre of the most fruitful and delightful region of all Northern

Italy, Treviso, with her borders, was renowned for the richness of her

vegetation, the salubrity of her climate, the beauty of her women,

and chivalry of her cavaliers. The rallying-point too of knights and

champions from the vigorous Teutonic north and the vivacious Frankish

west Treviso was the fascinating rendezvous of all that was romantic,

brave and fair.

The Crusades had been the making of the soldiery of all Europe,--not

indeed in the elements of warfare but in the courtesies of the

battle-field. Men went forth to fight the Saracen and the Turk to

vindicate the nobility of the Cross and the gentleness of the Son of

Mary. For the weak and the oppressed they gave and took sword-thrust

and arrow-tip, and not as men fighting men alone. Heroes returned to

Venetian, Trevisan and Paduan homes famous for their valour and their

virtue: the Crusades were schools of Christian chivalry. To fight for

women and for children in Palestine meant to honour and exalt those of

their own dear land, but this was quite a new idea. Saint Mary and the

Saints of God held the hands of their own babes and youths, the hands

of their own girls and women, and men worshipped at human shrines as

well as in saintly sanctuaries.

[Illustration: MYSTIC DANCE.

Michelino da Bedozzo.

PALAZZO BONARDO, MILAN.]

Treviso put forth her best efforts in the way of pageant, spectacle,

and mask--albeit she did not forget to dress her altars, light

her candles, and burn her incense, in honour of the Jubilee. In

the centre of the Piazza della Spineda, the Guild of Carpenters

erected a grandiose palace--“Castle of Love” it was named, overlaid

with gilding and painting, and decorated with rich silk velvets,

costly furs, and precious tapestries. Trophies from Palestine and

spoils from Constantinople were raised aloft, with rose-trees full

of roses, myrtles in white flower, and jessamine, the marriage

bloom, and many another decorative feature. All this bravery was the

_mise-en-scène_ for such a castle garrison as no knight’s eyes had

beheld nor indeed his heart imagined.

Two hundred of the fairest damsels of Treviso and Padua, and with them

not a few noble matrons of attractive personality, manned or shall we

say “womaned” the lofty battlements. Dressed in most becoming garbs and

covered with jewels, with faces painted and hair coiffured in exquisite

taste, the fascinating amazons have at hand no weapons or grenades

of lethal warfare, but baskets of sweet flowers, cornucopias of ripe

fruit, and crystal vases filled with delicious scents, ready for the

besiegers.

Three Companies in turn assault the “Castle of Beauty”--gallant

knights and esquires of Venice, Padua, and Treviso. Strange are their

battle-cries. Lately singing Litanies to the Saints, their lips have

learned compelling dulcet tones, as they have prayed at or for the

Holy Sepulchre, and now they again give forth the refrain “_Ora pro

Nobis_”--addressed not to St Giustina, St Catherine, or St Barbara,

but to Donna Beatrice, Donna Fioretta, Donna Felicita, and to all the

beauteous two hundred!

Amid the plaudits of thousands of spectators on pavement, in window,

on balcony, on roof, drawn from all the plains of Lombardy the

Company of Treviso--as gallant goodly lads as ever donned tight

hose and well-shaped tunic,--deliver the first attack, making trial

of their knighthood. Appealing to the tender unsullied hearts of

the fair defenders of the Castle, with gentle words, they shower

such things as affect most the eye of woman--lovely flowers, amorous

_billets-doux_, and delicate scent-sachets. Not so can they

gain the battlements, and falling back, the second line of attack is

opened out by the Company from Padua. Clever pleasant youths are they

and full of artistic fancies, well groomed too, they rally to the

charge with such things as may please their ladies’ palates,--boxes of

expensive sweetmeats, baskets of delicious fruits, and fresh rissoles

of fish and chicken. The fair ones catch all they can, but yield

not their portcullis. Now comes the turn of the fresh-complexioned,

well-figured, fair-haired, silent, haughty young Venetians. They step

boldly forward, in silken tights, each lad a lord in self-esteem:

they have special ammunition for their service, attractive to all the

senses of woman-kind,--scented walnuts, Oriental sweeties, and sugared

rose-leaves, but, in their scarlet satchels they have a wealth of good

gold ducats, and with them the day is won, for the maidens toss the

glittering spoil from hand to hand and laugh and sing right merrily!

But before the conquerors can carry off their bewitching prisoners,

the defeated warriors rally to the call of “Down with Venice,” and

rush the standard-bearers. In a trice the red banner of San Marco

is trailing on the ground and the Venetians have whipped out their

swords! Messer Paolo da Sermedole, the Master of the Pageant, and his

assistants intervene, and the tears of the captured maidens arrest the

flow of blood, but the Venetians leave the “_Marca Amorosa_”

vowing vengeance for the insult. War was declared forthwith against the

sister cities and the end of it came not till two years had passed,

when at Bebe near Chioggia, the Paduans accepted the Venetian terms.

Doge Pietro Ziani stipulated, as a condition of peace, that twenty-five

Paduan Knights, who had participated in the “_Marca Amorosa_” at

Treviso, should present themselves at the Ducal Palace, submissive to

the orders of his Serenity.

In Venice the gallant Company was welcomed right nobly, as became

magnanimous foes, feasted for ten days, and well laden with costly

presents, and so were speeded home again. History has not exactly told

us whether any, or all of that gallant band, took away things more

precious still than the splendid offerings,--the hearts of Venetian

maidens! The revenge of the conquered, in true chivalry, is the

spoiling of the conqueror. Anyhow at least one Venetian bride was led

away to Padua, and with her went a goodly trousseau:--“One bed, two

down-quilts, a whole piece of scarlet ‘noble’ cloth, four linen sheets,

two feather pillows, two striped silk petticoats, two robes, or gowns,

of silk brocade, four bodices of lawn, one fur mantle with silver

buttons, one silver bell, a silver rosary, seven ornaments of gold, two

of pearls, a coronal of pearls, seven fine amber beads, etc., etc.”

When she reached Padua the bride was to receive from her husband a

purse full of money, to pay for musicians at the home-coming, for the

cooks, and for her chaperon--one Donna Riccidoni--and for herself she

might retain twelve silver _soldi_ as pin-money. The bridegroom was

mulcted at the same time in dealings in beef, veal, fresh fish and

fruit, cakes, eggs, bread, wine and oil, and for the payment of the

boatmen who had rowed them up the Brenta. Alas the chronicler in the

“_Archivio_” has failed to give the names of the interesting couple,

but apparently Venice and Padua were at one upon the question of

matrimony!

* * * * *

“_Maridite! Maridite! Donzela;

Che dona maridada è sempre bela:

Maridite! finchè la foglia è verde,

Perchè la zoventu presto se perde!_”

VENETIAN “BARCAROLLE.”

(“Marry! Marry! pretty maid,

Lest ye lose your youth and fade--

The young girl’s her husband’s Queen

Marry whilst the leaves are green!”)

II

The last years of Doge Pietro Ziani were embittered by the rivalries of

the families of Tiepolo and Dandolo--partisans of both sides eagerly

grasping the Ducal chair, and impatient of the demise of its occupant.

The Doge and Dogaressa were so worried and oppressed by these unseemly

contentions that he executed a deed of abdication, and returned to his

private residence, leaving the distinguished but thankless office to be

filled by another.

Giacomo Tiepolo represented the _old_ ideas and Marino Dandolo the

_new_, and the votes of the Council were equally divided; but at last,

a majority was found for the former. Tiepolo was out and away the most

enlightened and intellectual man of his time. He came of an ancient

family, one of the “Apostolic” order of nobility--“Teupolo” in the old

spelling, and originally from Rome. Bartoldo Teupolo, the head of the

family in 697, was one of the electors of Doge Paolo Lucio Anafesto.

In 1204, when so many Venetian nobles assumed territorial titles of

sovereignty over islands in the Greek Archipelago consequent upon the

fall of Constantinople, Giacomo Tiepolo was named Duke of Candia. His

father was Lorenzo, Procurator of San Marco in 1207, and Podesta of

Treviso.

“Duke” Tiepolo took to wife Maria Storiato--a Venetian gentlewoman

of no high degree, but a good and faithful spouse and mother. She

was received as Dogaressa the day of Giacomo’s election in 1228, but

alas, she died in 1240, having given him three sons as pledges of

her devotion--Pietro, Lorenzo, and Giovanni. The eldest became Count

of Sant’ Agostino and Podesta of Milan and Treviso, but, being taken

prisoner by the Emperor Frederic II., he was treacherously beheaded.

A two years’ widowerhood found the Doge once more at the feet of an

attractive woman, not indeed a simple Venetian maiden but a Princess

of Royal degree,--Valdrada, the daughter of King Tancredo of Sicily.

The new Dogaressa, like her brother King Ruggero, was famed for good

commonsense, and sound probity of life, and she assumed at once an

unquestioned control over the actions of her Consort, strong man though

he was. Like her sister, the Dowager Dogaressa Costanza, she was a

_virago_, in the sense of a strong personality; and she followed

in her sister’s steps, ruling not alone her husband, but bending to

her will all with whom she was thrown in contact.

Perhaps the new Dogaressa’s ostentation of Regal rank in the Venetian

Court was a decisive factor in the promulgation of what was called

the “_Promissione_”--perhaps best translated by the French term,

_Protocol_--of 1242, the provisions of which greatly restricted the

power and liberty of the Doge and Dogaressa. The Doge was henceforth

to be, not the executive Head of the State, but the executor of the

orders of the Council. Acts of homage were no longer to be rendered to

him, nor was he to be addressed as “_Domine Dominus_.” In times gone by

the deputation of nobles, commissioned to acquaint a new Doge of his

election, were accustomed to greet him thus:--“Welcome, Messer Doge,

God give you Messer Doge a good morrow, we are come to dine with you,

we await your orders, and we wish to kiss your hand.” The Dogaressa

also shared the new restrictive conventions, and neither relatives

of hers, nor of the Doge, were eligible for any public office. Their

household was limited--only twenty-five free retainers were allowed and

a like number of unpaid dependent slaves.

“_Il Statuto di Giacomo Tiepolo_,” or “_Il Statuto Veneto_,” as it was

called, was a compilation, by Doge Tiepolo, of laws in five books,

which treated of the domestic relations of married people. The husband

was required to render an account to his wife of his use of her dowry,

and the capital sum remained in her power to will as she chose. An

unfaithful wife forfeited her dowry, but a widow enjoyed her husband’s

patrimony till her second marriage or death. If ever a couple decided

to renounce secular life and enter Religion, the united property was

shared equally, each being free to do what he or she liked with the

money. Children, if any and under age, were provided for equally by

each parent. Many sections of the “_Statuto_” dealt with the vexed

questions of Slavery and Prostitution--all aiming at the amelioration

and moralisation of manners.

Doge Giacomo Tiepolo’s time was much occupied with the settlement of

internal jealousies and factions, and by the conduct of naval and

military expeditions. While he was so employed Dogaressa Valdrada

gave her whole time to the patronage and support of the Trade

Corporations--a _rôle_ maintained by all her successors.

At length, in 1209, the Doge, wearied alike by the exertions of his

foreign enterprises and by the keenness of political rivalries at home,

executed a deed of abdication, and, with Dogaressa Valdrada and her two

young children retired to his private residence at Sant’ Agostino, in

the _sestiere_ of San Polo or Paolo. He did not long survive his

retirement from office, and both he and his Consort, who outlived him

three years, were buried in SS. Giovanni e Paolo. In every sense of the

word Giacomo Tiepolo--“The Legislator”--was a “Grand” Doge--the sixth

upon whom that title may be properly bestowed.

In his “_Stones of Venice_” Ruskin tells a well-known and

characteristic story of Doge Giacomo Tiepolo. The noble church of

SS. Giovanni e Paolo--San Zanipolo in the vernacular--was begun by

the monks of San Domenigo in the year 1234, under the patronage of

the Tiepolo family. Three years before Giacomo was called upon to

succeed Pietro Ziani, he dreamed a dream wherein he beheld all the

ground around the rising building covered with rose-bushes in full and

fragrant bloom. Flitting to-and-fro and imbibing the floral nectar were

numbers of white doves with golden crosses upon their breasts. Whilst

the dreamer wondered what it all meant forty angelic beings appeared

out of a crimson cloud, bearing in their hands smoking censers, and,

circling around the lovely garden, they flung hither and thither

their sweet incense smoke. Then a rich clarion voice proclaimed from

somewhere above the rose-trees:--“This is the place I have chosen

for my preachers.” The solemn words awoke the sleeper, and he went

straightway to the Council and declared what he had seen and heard.

They agreed to grant forty paces of ground for the extension of the

monastery and Messer Tiepolo, out of his private munificence, endowed

the brotherhood with a noble revenue.

Upon either side of the entrance of the church are the two Roman

sarcophagi, in which were interred the bodies of Doge Giacomo and

his son Doge Lorenzo Tiepolo. Ever after Doge Giacomo Tiepolo’s

solemn obsequies the bodies of all the Venetian Doges and many of the

Dogaressas were laid in State and their funeral rites were performed

within the choir of the great Dominican church.

Marco, or Marino Morosini’s _dogado_ (1249–1252), was quite uneventful,

except for the establishment of the Holy Inquisition in Venice. Its

operations however were only allowed upon sufferance, and its decrees

required the _imprimatur_ of the Council before being carried into

effect. Doge Morosini, nearly seventy years of age at the time of

the election, was of venerable appearance, amiable disposition, and

irreproachable character. His Consort’s name has not been preserved. He

is credited with the initiation of the _Scola de’ Battitori_,--Guild

of Flagellants,--which attracted very many of the more devout of

the citizens. Men and women were equally affected by this call to

asceticism, and were accustomed to lash themselves both publicly and

in private with “_Scope_” birchrods or “disciplines,” whilst they sang

_Miserere_ and other doleful chants! The _furore_ had a brief duration,

for the commonsense of all classes checked exhibitions of infatuation.

There was however one admirable feature in the movement--the devotion

of vast sums of money, rich lands, and fine houses, to the cause

of charity: in one year (1251), 80,000 _lire_ were contributed to

deserving objects, and the “_Battitori_” numbered at least 12,000.

Marco Morosini was buried with full honours, clad in State robes with

his jewelled sword by his side, whilst women made loud lamentations

and men forsook their avocations to touch his bier, and pray for his

soul. These solemn burial scenes were swiftly followed by the gorgeous

installation ceremony of the new Doge--Reniero Zeno (1252–1268).

Where had been scattered branches of yew and cypress, and where had

swayed great lengths of dismal black cloth, now flaunted in the fresh

sea-breeze, the emblazoned banners of the “_Fragilie_” and the splendid

silk draperies of the nobles, whilst garlands of freshly woven fragrant

blossoms shed their painted petals upon the path where along a comely

Dogaressa was borne by gallant escort to the Palace. There was just

one “fly in the ointment” of satisfaction--for Loicia da Prata,--as

attractive as any of her predecessors, indeed she had charms surpassed

by few,--was alas from Friuli, and “nothing good for Venice,” it was

said, “ever came thence!”

The new Doge belonged to the most recent order of the nobility,

that composed of men whose ancestors had purchased their patents in

celebration of the last war with Candia--the Videmani, Labio, Zenobio,

Fini, Manini, Gambarri, Zeno, and others. Whether Messir Reniero,

the son of Ser Pietro Zeno, possessed all the qualifications sought

in the person of the Head of the State we know not, but we know that

he was a man of great wealth--perhaps, as times went then and as

they go now, _the_ most valuable consideration! This being so, the

Council considered it a favourable opportunity for further curtailing

the privileges of the Doge and Dogaressa, for, by the way, it was a

certainty that they would be the recipients of considerable offerings

on behalf of the Trade Corporations, seeing that the Doge was engaged

in active commercial pursuits and was a great employer of labour.

[Illustration: DOGE RENIER ZENO AND DOGARESSA LUICIA DI PRATA.

Palma Il Giovine.

ORATORIA DE’ CROCIFERI. VENICE.]

By the new “_Promissione_” the Doge, the Dogaressa, their sons and

daughter, and daughters-in-law, were debarred from receiving food

stuffs, cattle and horses, poultry and game, etc., etc., except upon

due payment. The Dogaressa was directed not to promise situations or

offices to those who sought her aid, nor to write recommendations of

such suppliants to the Doge or to the Council, and also not to make

gifts to any official dependant. If she bestowed her patronage upon

Craftsmen they were forbidden to make capital out of it. On the other

hand, no limits were put to the private charities of her Serenity,

and, as Dogaressa Loicia was famed for her benevolence, this freedom

of action granted to her by the _Promissione_, had an astute and sly

significance. As a matter of fact she did exhibit her piety in a

remarkable way by the erection and endowment of a Hospital, upon the

site originally occupied by that of Doge Pietro Orseolo II., with an

Oratory,--_Oratorio del Crocifisso_,--still in existence near the great

Campanile of San Marco.

During the _dogado_ of Reniero Zeno, in 1255, a writ was put forth

by the Government regulating the marriages of nobles and citizens.

Banns of marriage had been asked, time out of mind in all the Venetian

churches, but gradually they had ceased to be regarded as necessary,

and clandestine unions were the fashion. A priest had come to be

regarded as at anybody’s beck and call, whether in a public consecrated

building or in the privacy of the domestic parlour; and, instead of

many sponsors, one witness was deemed sufficient. Often as not a

priestly personage was not requisitioned at all--times were easy, so

were manners.

Quite a characteristic and amusing story has been preserved

illustrating the new mode of wedding contracts. Madonna Catarussa of

San Gervaso, lingering one evening at her house door, awaiting her

late home-coming spouse, was accosted by one, Ser Pierino da Trento,

an itinerant seller of brooms and brushes. Noting the Madonna’s

abstraction he passed a courteous greeting:--“Good Lady,” he said,

“can you find a poor devil like me a pretty girl I wonder?” Madonna

Catarussa was indignant and used pretty freely not too pretty Venetian

expletives!

“No! no! not that dear Lady, not that,” interjected Ser Pierino, “I

mean marriage now and honourable, a little wife and a modest dowry!”

“Well, well, if that be your true wish I will see what I can do. Come

again to-morrow about this time. Fare you well fond lover!”

Madonna Catarussa knew well a very charming girl, just what the amorous

pedlar wanted,--Donna Marina Contarini. She broached the subject of Ser

Pierino’s commission, and because he was of good reputation and withal

a good-looking fellow, the girl agreed to the assignation. Without

delay or preparation, upon the morrow, in Madonna Catarussa’s best

parlour, the couple met and with them one, Menigo Moïse, a friend of

the Madonna, prepared to carry out an impromptu matrimonial _rôle_.

“Ser Pierino, does Donna Marina suit you?--Donna Marina, does Ser

Pierino please you?--Say ye both”--asked he.

A ready double “Yes” sprang from the nuptial couple and promptly and

with glee Ser Moïse joined their hands. Thereafter congratulations

were showered upon the newly-married pair, and a merry party sat down

to a hearty wedding breakfast. Company is never wanting when marriage

festivities are on the go, and so it was in Madonna Catarussa’s

_calle_--perhaps Ser Giovanni was at sea--fishing!

Doge Zeno died in 1208, but Dogaressa Luicia survived him many years.

He left to her absolutely the bulk of his property and she continued

to reside in the great _Casa Zeno_, whence she administered the

munificent gifts he and she had made to religious bodies, to churches

and hospitals. At her death,--the date is not recorded,--she devised

her personal effects for the benefit of her _Ospedale di Santa Maria

per gl’Incurabili_, namely bedding, mattresses, coverlets, gowns,

furs, her nuptial chests, plumes of feathers, six reading easels,

chests of medicines, and very many personal and domestic comforts. Thus

the attractive, virtuous, and benevolent Dogaressa passed quietly, and

we may hope peacefully, from the people and the scenes she loved so

well. Many warm hearts beat for her and salt tears fell, for she was

well beloved in Venice.

III

Lorenzo Tiepolo mounted the Ducal throne in 1268, with a splendid,

well-nigh unique, reputation, and he sustained its dignity admirably

for seven eventful years. He was the Head of a strong and wealthy

republic, which, surrounded with high honours, was rejoicing in

every kind of delight and ostentation. The son of a “Grand” Doge,

blessed by his father’s reputation, renowned for his personal bravery

and courtesy, and endowed with the wherewithal to minister to his

own luxuries and to the dissipations of a brilliant court without

restraint, the second Tiepolo Doge was the man of the moment, the

plaything of fortune.

Venice was like a spoilt woman, dowered with beauty and ability,

jealous of her freedom, a fierce foe to her enemies, a dangerous

vixen to her friends, loving adulation, commanding obedience, proud,

selfish, cruel, and revengeful--this was the Venice which Lorenzo,

the champion of the _Giostre_ had to control. The spirit of the

time was wholly favourable to the new Doge’s government. Harmony and

healthful rivalry existed between the craftsmen and the masters. In

1271 the _Gastaldi_--Heads of Guilds--met under the presidency of

the Doge; and agreed to devote a goodly portion of their Guild revenues

to the relief of the poor and sick, provide pensions for the widows

and families of deceased members, attend funerals, and keep the lamps

burning in their Guild Chapels. They gave, as their incentive to these

pious works, the sententious aphorism:--“_Stare in lo amor di Dio e

di Santa Paxe_.”

Venetians loved music, dancing, birds, and flowers. Picnics were held

in the gardens of Murano, in the orchards of San Giorgio Maggiore, in

the vineyards of San Zaccaria, in the olive-yards of Malamocco, and

by the aviaries of San Giobbe. Everyone had his own garden,--great

or small,--and in it rare exotics mingled with homely plants. At

all windows and balconies were boxes of carnations and cages full

of singing birds. Venice too was the shop of Europe, whether for

tasty culinary delicacies or for the fashionable fripperies of the

fair sex. All the good things of the East were displayed upon her

_fundamenti_ and in her markets. The banquets she set before her

guests were sumptuous and unrivalled: the beef of Aquileia, the veal

of Chioggia, and the pork of Friuli were as famous as the sausages of

Bologna. Her wines, her fruits, and her sweetmeats were celebrated.

Two meals a day were the rule in Doge Lorenzo Tiepolo’s time--dinner

before noon, supper between seven and eight. For dinner, the better

classes had soup,--_grasso_ or _magro_,--fish and meat with vegetables,

fruit, cakes, and wine. Elegant little baskets of silver and gold were

placed upon the tables filled with freshly-made sweetmeats. The poorer

people’s dietary was chiefly fish, bread, oil, and fruit,--meat was

beyond their means and vegetables were also dear.

The Venetians had not been noted for refinement of manners, in fact

they had rather prided themselves that they were “less effeminate” than

their neighbours on the mainland; but, under the patronage and example

of the foreign modes of the nobles and richer citizens, there sprang

up, in the middle of the thirteenth century, a marked improvement with

a corresponding growth of courtesy. Very quaintly a worthy friar of

Milan, Bonvesino da Riva, drew out a “Table of Etiquette.” “Thou shalt

remember,” he wrote, “the poor when thou sittest at table. Thou shalt

be gentle in offering water for the hands. Thou shalt not eat nor drink

to excess. Thou shalt sit easily, show courtesy, be cheerful, thy dress

well arranged. Thou shalt not fill thy mouth too full. Thou shalt take

thy cup of wine and put it to thy lips with both hands, so as not to

spill any, and, when thou hast moderately drank, thou shalt not pass

it on to another but place it carefully upon the table. If thou shalt

happen to sneeze or cough, draw thyself away a little, never complain

of the seasoning of the dishes. Thou must not soak thy bread in thy

wine. Thou shalt always offer thy guest the best cut. Thou shalt be

scrupulous about the cleanliness of thy servants; thou and they must

always have clean hands. Thou shalt not thrust thy hands into thy mouth

nor pick thy teeth. Thou shalt not fondle thy neck, nor thine ears. At

table thou shalt not relate sad news....” And so the writer goes on

giving excellent lessons in good deportment.

Lorenzo Tiepolo had made himself a great name before he came to the

_dogado_. He had humbled Genoa and in the East he had commanded

a victorious Venetian fleet which had brought back twenty-five prize

galleys, great stores of booty, and above all, the venerated body

of Santa Saba. In 1264 he was Podesta of Padua, and, when there, he

married Donna Agnese Ghisi, whose family held the titular marquisate of

Stampiala in the Greek Archipelago. She gave her husband two sons who,

when grown, married, Giacomo,--a princess of Dalmatia, and Pietro,--a

rich countess of Vincenza. Very little is known about Dogaressa Agnese

except that she was a patroness of Hospitals and a friend of those

in distress. Out of her dowry she endowed a Maternity and Lying-in

Hospital for poor women, and a Hostel for prisoners condemned to death.

The good Dogaressa went by the gracious title--“_La Donna della

Misericordia_.”

Soon after the death of his first wife Lorenzo Tiepolo married again.

The Venetians, whilst controlling the privileges and the liberty of the

Consort of the Doge, were exigent that he should have a spouse, if for

no other reason, than as an additional ornament to the State. The new

Dogaressa was Marchesina, daughter of Boemondo da Brienne, King of

Rascia and Servia, who was brother of the Emperor John. If we have no

authentic portrait of her, Palazzi’s pack of cards in the Museo Civico

has upon the “Nine of Clubs”:--“_Dogaressa Thiepolo aggrandisce ed

arrichisce cole noze la prole Nobilita langue ove ricchezzo manca_.”

Perhaps briefly Englished “A noble and a wealthy heiress!”

The recognition ceremonies of the new Dogaressa were accompanied by a

splendid pageant two days later. Whilst the citizens were content to

leave all matters of State policy and the details of the Administration

to the governing class, represented by the Doge without demur, to

the Dogaressa, craftsmen looked for protection and patronage in the

prosecution of their industries. Accordingly the _Gastaldi_, or

Masters of the several Guilds,--there were just thirty of them,--met in

Council, and resolved to arrange an exhibition of their various Crafts

at the Ducal Palace in honour of the new Dogaressa.

To accompany her Serenity to her Coronation and to secure her presence

at the inauguration of the Exhibition a huge procession set off to

the Tiepolo palace, which Doge Giacomo had enlarged and decorated so

lavishly. Headed by banners and trumpets and drums first march the

“Smiths” with garlands upon their heads; next the “Furriers,” wearing

costly furs; the “Wool-weavers” followed,--an imposing detail of the

pageant,--singing ballads to the accompaniment of horns and cymbals,

and carrying silver goblets and flasks full of red wine. Fourth in

order came the “Tailors” in white garments covered with scarlet stars

and over their shoulders cloaks lined with fur; “Woollendrapers”

succeeded with branches of olives in their hands and olive crowns

upon their heads--the Masters of the Craft wore fustian mantles;

“Makers of Doublets and Coverlets” were ranged alongside, wearing

white capes sewn with blue lilies. The eighth Guild by reason of the

costliness of its manufactures commanded universal admiration--the

“Makers of gold and silver cloth,”--whose members wore caps decorated

with fine filigree work and sewn with pearls; following came the

“Shoemakers,” the “Mercers,”--clothed from head to foot in silk; the

“Pork-butchers,” in scarlet cloaks lined with vair; the “Glass-blowers”

and the “Carding-comb Makers” made way for a gorgeous detachment--the

“Goldsmiths,” adorned with gems and precious stones. It would be

tedious to name all the “Trades” in that vast procession, which wound

up with the “Barber-surgeons,” who certainly made the most of their

opportunity. They marched with their heads dressed in the latest

fashion and wearing gold ornaments and pearls. Two mounted men, in the

armour of Knight-errants, conducted four lovely young girls in white,

their rich golden hair all over their shoulders, and each supposed to

represent one of the four great foreign States,--France, Germany, Spain

and England.

Having passed under the windows of the Dogaressa, the two Knights

dismounted and addressed her Serenity as follows:--“Duchess, we are two

wandering Knights, and we have ridden forth in search of adventures and

have carried off from persecution and wrong these noble maidens. Now if

there should be any warriors who will come forth to prove their valour,

we are prepared to defend the damsels and sustain our honour.” The

Dogaressa smiled her approval, and waved her hand that she was ready to

accompany her honourable escort to the Palace.

Taking her place by the side of the Doge she received the courteous

salutation of the assembled nobles, and then passed through the

ante-room and reached the Hall of Exhibition, where she was received

by the Masters and Officials of the Guilds, and from whom, in spite of

all “_Promissioni_” she accepted characteristic presents. To each

Master she addressed a few pleasant words and invited him to sup with

her that night in the Ducal Palace, whilst the Doge entertained the

Lords of the Council and other Dignitaries of State.

The Dogaressa Marchesina was part-founder in 1272 of the celebrated

Ca’ di Dio--House of God--for the reception of ladies of good birth

but reduced to poverty. Hitherto such unfortunate gentlewomen had been

cared for along with the widows of craftsmen, and they felt keenly the

degradation: they were certainly “the poor who feel shame.” Not many

years elapsed before the joy of prosperity in Venice was turned into

the sorrow of want--the splendid hospitalities of the Ducal Palace gave

place to plain spreads for starving people. Famine followed feasting

and Doge and Dogaressa were occupied with the leading nobles in dealing

with scarcity and unemployment.

Doge Lorenzo Tiepolo died in 1275, and Marino da Canale, the

chronicler, wrote of him:--“There was no one in all the Venetian nation

who did not lament with reason the loss of such an excellent ruler.” He

was buried with his father, and his brother Giovanni, at SS. Giovanni

e Paolo. Of the Dogaressa Marchesina’s death and burial we have found

no record.

Lorenzo Tiepolo’s successor, Giacomo Contarini,--a member of a

prominent family of the “Apostolic” order of nobility,--was in

every way an estimable man and not suspected of any ulterior aims

with respect to the aggrandisement of his family. Nevertheless the

Government demanded sworn promises that “neither he nor Madonna

Jacobina, his spouse, should accept any fee or fief, nor undertake

commissions of any kind and, in particular, that the Dogaressa

should on no account contract debts with the citizens nor enter into

speculations, in salt, cheese, or wine!”

The Doge was forbidden to hold land outside Venice, his sons were

forbidden to marry foreign wives, except with the approval of the

Council (two were already married and the third was a Religious), and

whatever was required for the Ducal household was ordered to be paid

for within eight days. The Dogaressa and her daughters were expressly

prohibited from receiving gifts or samples from tradesmen. In other

respects the _dogado_ of Contarini was uneventful, and after

a short reign of five years in 1280 he abdicated his office, and

retired into private life upon a pension of fifteen hundred _lire di

piccioli_,--a beggarly sum indeed, but he was glad enough of it, for

he was a poor man, perhaps the least wealthy of all the Doges, though

he came of a wealthy family.

How Dogaressa Jacobina submitted to the severe restrictions upon her

liberty of action we know not, nor indeed anything whatever about her,

except her name. The Doge died shortly after his vacation of office,

and was buried quietly in the church of the Frati Minori,--Santa Maria

Gloriosa de’ Frari,--in a marble sarcophagus which was enriched with

mosaic figures of the Doge and Dogaressa upon their knees,--comely

in their lives: in death they were undivided. The epitaph is very

brief:--“_Heic requiescit Dominus Jacobus Contarinus, Dux inclytus

Venetiarum, et Domina Jacobina, ejus uxor, Ducissa_.”

Bearing a great name Giovanni Dandolo a descendant of the “Grand” Doge

Arrigo Dandolo was peacefully living at his country villa at Arbe in

Dalmatia,--that favourite resort for wealthy Venetians who there could

indulge in the chiefest of their hobbies the cultivation of flower

gardens, and fruit orchards, and in the pleasures of the chase,--when

news of Doge Contarini’s abdication reached him. Apparently neither

he nor his good spouse were unprepared for a summons home, for they

started towards Venice before the deputation of nobles sent to salute

them reached their domicile.

The new Doge had all the high moral tone, firmness, and energy, of his

great ancestor, but he was lame and somewhat uncourtly in his manner.

Morose in disposition and possessed of peculiar habits, he seemed to

be hardly the sort of man for the onerous post to which he was called,

moreover he was credited with democratic tendencies.

The times were tranquil and, as a consequence, prosperous, and Venice

and the Venetians were approaching the zenith of success. She was the

emporium of the world: the business of all Europe and of the East was

transacted in and about the Piazza di San Giacomo di Rialto. Each

trading nation had its warehouses and its consular staff. In front of

the _Fondaco de’ Tedeschi_, just beyond the bridge, were anchored ships

from Northern ports, and upon the wharves were dumped all sorts of

foreign merchandise. Higher up the canal were fleets of great barges

laden with casks of oil and wine. The _Fundamenta Toscana_ was filled

with Florentine merchants and choice wares from Tuscany, the _Fondaco

de’ Turchi_ and the _Campo de’ Mori_, were thronged with traders from

the radiant East. Jews and Armenians traversed _calli_ and _rive_ at

will, bartering their commodities.

Right away from the Rialto bridge to the Piazza di San Marco, all

along the Merceria, were shops overflowing with costly objects, rare

perfumes, and the latest modes. There strutted young gallants of Venice

with slender, graceful figures, fair-haired, and clad in well-fitting

hosen and tunics, richly trimmed, with natty shoes and jaunty red

_berrette_, peering as they sidled up and down into screened doorways

for revelations of feminine charms and fashions. If, as it was said,

matrons frequented that famous rendezvous to study mannikins draped

to show forth the smartest costumes, and ostentatiously to give their

alms, we may be sure maidens, perhaps clandestinely, found themselves

there too, with their white veils coyly arranged to please their

admirers--young and old.

Giovanni Dandolo splashed no red mark upon the escutcheon of the

City, the white lily of a virtuous life was not denied him, but he

wearied of his dignity, and, in 1289, retired to his restful home

in Dalmatia, and there he lived till 1320. When dying he left by

will to his lamenting consort, the Dogaressa Caterina, “many chests

full of fair linen, vests, shawls, and coverlets, with a couple of

_ningoli_--chemises (?), and many other things.” The wearing of

under linen was unusual then, and, be it said _sotto voce_, little

care was taken in the matter of cleanliness--the wearer went on wearing

till the garments were worn out! A _Sonetto_, written about the

Venetians, by Antonio Beccario da Ferrara, refers amusingly to this

_peccadiglio_:--

“_Nun s’no da mutar lur pani lini

E cho’ mantegli vannu dimezatti,

Porton solete chalzertti.

Tal che impegna boriz e cholterlini._”

The chemise--and its complement--were luxuries in the year 1307, when

Donna Sofia Battango, in her will, bequeathed one of each garment, with

special injunctions, to two of her dearest friends--Donne Reni and

Donadi.

Dogaressa Caterina Dandolo survived her husband many years and died,

if the record may be believed in 1341, when she must have been quite a

centenarian. At any rate there is extant the Inventory of her wardrobe,

which contained a wealth of rich and costly dresses, viz.: “a robe of

white silk serge pleated with silver; a robe of cerulean-blue cloth

lined with grey fur; a tunic of red brocade trimmed with braid and

buttons of silver; a cape or cloth of gold and watered silk; and train

of fine thin scarlet cloth covered with silver trimmings; two silk

hoods lined with ermine, several lace caps covered with pearls--etc.,

etc.” Possibly some of her belongings got into the hands of _Venditori

di Panni Vecchi_,--dealers in old clothes, who in 1283 had been

subjected to strict inspection. Women were allowed to buy and sell, but

all shops had to be closed on festivals and Sundays, which, in Venice,

totalled up to half the year. Perhaps the good Dogaressa bestowed

her wardrobe, or some of her garments, upon the members of that most

curious Guild of all the Guilds of Venice--the “_Zonfi_”--the lame and

blind; for it was incorporated under her patronage.

Of those days indeed the words of the quattrocento poet of Padua,

Giovanni Sanguinacci, were true:--

“Venice rich and free wears the world’s crown high--

Queen of the Sea, of the Shore, of the Sky.”

IV

Upon the abdication of Giovanni Dandolo the popular choice of a

successor fell upon Giacomo, Doge Lorenzo Tiepolo’s eldest son,--a

prudent and unselfish man--“_un huomo de bene_” as he was called;

but he refused the honour, and promptly went off to his estate at

Mestre, and set to work farming. Eventually Pietro or Perazzo--“Proud

Peter”--Gradenigo was elected. His character was marked by gentleness

of disposition, equability of temper, tenacity of purpose, and strength

of will,--all very desirable traits in one chosen to fill such a

cumbered-about and difficult position as the Dogeship of Venice.

Moreover he had strong views concerning the status of the Dogaressa.

He had himself sought no foreign Princess, as had the men of the

house of Tiepolo, but had taken his wife from a Venetian family,

as illustrious as his own--both were of the “Apostolic,” or twelve

premier, families--Tommasina Morosini. She presented him with five sons

and a daughter,--Paolo, Marco, Niccolo, Giacomo, Giovanni, with Anna,

who lived to be the consort of Giacomo da Carrara, Lord of Padua.

Convinced, by diligent study and close observation, that an autocracy

was the only satisfactory form of government for Venice, as opposed

to the intricate jealousies of the aristocracy, and to the varying

pretensions of the democracy, the new Doge caused the Great Council

to pass a law which fixed the administration of the State in the

hands of the Doge and the Council of Ten. With a stroke of the pen

the popular Government, established under Doge Sebastiano Ziani,

in 1172, was abolished, and the Venetian Republic came perilously

near being controlled by the will of one strong man. More or less to

allay the apprehensions of his fellow-nobles Gradenigo instituted

the “_Libro d’Oro de’ Quarantia_.” Almost the first action of

“the Forty,”--quite characteristic, but at the same time grimly

humorous,--was to hedge the ambitious Doge about with greater

restrictions than ever. He was never to leave Venice under any pretext,

and never to walk about the City unattended. His official income was

fixed at 14,000 ducats (say £2000) for the worthy support of his family

and for the entertainment at dinner, four times a year, of the Lords

of the Council. The State robes to be worn by Doge and Dogaressa were

also exactly indicated:--for the Doge, over a close-fitting long tunic

or cassock of silver cloth, a full mantle of cloth of gold lined with

ermine, and an ermine hood. The _Corno_ was of crimson silk-velvet

with a plain band of gold, and he was shod with crimson shoes. The

Dogaressa’s Court robe was similar to that of her husband; she wore

her bodice cut low, her veil was white gauze,--other ladies wore

black,--and she exhibited what jewels she liked.

In 1312 the Dogaressa was required, by a pettifogging edict, which the

Council passed ironically, to be careful about her payments. She was

not to incur debts, but to pay ready cash, and to be particular to

pass no longer the smaller copper coins, but to make use of new silver

ducats. Her alms too in the Basilica and other churches were to be in

gold--perhaps the Dogaressa Tommasina had been chary of her offerings!

Doge Pietro Gradenigo was a politician pure and simple, he cared

neither for military or naval questions, nor did he give heed to the

interests of the industrial classes. A fluent speaker, he dissembled

where he could not convince; and he gained the people’s ears by

his much talking, while he restrained their tongues with lavish

hospitalities. Like the Medici of Firenze, in later times, his motto

was:--“Do nothing without the people,” and his practice was to amuse

them. Call this Macchiavellian if you like--that mischievously misused

designation for two-faced and hypothetic policies and politicians.

[Illustration: THE PROMENADE AT A COURT BALL.

FROM A PRINT. 1610.

“Habiti d’Huomini e Donne.”--G. Franco.]

Venice became a vast pleasure fair,--all kinds of vulgar excesses were

tolerated, and incentives to abstention from politics were scattered

broadcast, in the form of constant panderings to popular fancy.

Shooting-butts were set up in the piazzas, and boxing and general

pugilistic encounters were established upon the bridges. These latter

sports took fast hold upon the people’s taste, and resulted in pitched

battles between champions of the various _sestieri_. The Ponte di

San Barnaba was the favourite “coign of battle,” or as it came to be

called “_Ponte de’ Pugni_”--“Bridge of Fisticuffs!” At Carnival

and on Public Holidays the whole city forgathered to applaud those who

held the Bridge, and to deride those who toppled over into the water.

Combatants usually ranged themselves under two flags--the red of the

“_Castellani_” and the black of the “_Nicolotti_.” Their

rivalries were fierce and entered into their daily lives, where lie met

lie and boast foiled boast. “Reds” mocked “Blacks” and vice versa:--

“Swine that ye be, all ye Nicolotti

How can ye expect the girls to love ye?”

* * * * *

“Have ye no care for Donne--Domini?

Thieves that ye be, all ye Castellani!”

Regattas were ever popular and Doge Gradenigo and Dogaressa Tommasina

emulated the far-off example of Doge Domenigo and Dogaressa Teodora

Selvo by presiding at the contests and personally distributing the

prizes. The first prize was a crimson silk purse full of gold ducats;

the second, green full of silver coins; the third, blue filled with

coppers; the fourth, yellow and empty, but with the addition of a model

of a little black pig! Whilst Padua had its Passion Plays and Fruili

its Religious Masks, Venice, under the Gradenigo Doges, had no such

pious orgies: Venetians loved the drama and the ballad--the mysteries

and the passions of actual life. Dancing in the piazzas, and serenades

upon the Grand Canal--such were their manners.

We gather very little of the Dogaressa Tommasina from the history of

her husband’s _dogado_: Some say she died in 1300, and that the

Doge married, in the following year, Donna Agnese, the daughter of

Pietro Zantani--“a woman of the people”--who survived him, and dying,

left her personal property to her only son Pietro. Another woman’s name

is associated with that of the Doge, one Sabba Minotti, but who and

what she was we do not know. Domestic morality under Pietro Gradenigo

did not attain a very distinctively high mark!

At the close of the thirteenth century, and throughout the whole of the

fourteenth, Venice was agitated by revolutionary projects. The year

1300 was marked by the conspiracy of Marco Bocconio, a man of great

wealth with a great following of suborned adherents. He aimed at the

deposition of Doge Pietro Gradenigo and the substitution of himself as

Supreme Lord of Venice. Bocconio and ten of his principal supporters

were hanged between the two marble columns of evil augury upon the

Piazzetta.

The conspiracy of Marco Quirino and Baiamonte Tiepolo was a more

serious affair, and the ancient families of the Badoeri, Barozzi and

Dori and many others, were implicated. Pietro Gradenigo was again the

obstacle in the way of the conspirators, he appeared to have attained

to such a measure of personal pre-eminence that nothing less than his

head could save the situation. Never before in all her history had

Venice witnessed such a spectacle of personal ambition and personal

animosity. Marco Quirino,--the father-in-law of Baiamonte Tiepolo,

aimed at the absolute Lordship, with its devolution upon his second

in command. They were possessed of immense resources, and had large

retinues of highly-trained servants and well-drilled slaves. Baiamonte

appealed to the populace in his character of “_Il gran Cavaliere_”

by which title he was known and respected. The Doge, with a firmness

of the hard man that he was,--he was in truth “_Un’Atila_”--“a

merciless man,”--crushed the rebellion. Marco Quirino was beheaded and

his mansion, on the Grand Canal, turned into a shambles, and Baiamonte

Tiepolo exiled with the confiscation of all his property.

There is a story in connection with the Quirino-Tiepolo rising which

is quite worth while the telling. Baiamonte Tiepolo, at the head of

his armed mercenaries, was passing noisily along the Merceria, on

his way to the Ducal Palace, when suddenly the lattice of a window

was thrown back and a woman looked out,--an action unwarrantable and

criminal. Without a moment’s hesitation she seized the heavy stone

pan, full of growing red carnations, and dropped it upon the head of

the standard-bearer! The confusion which followed the fall of their

leader’s banner gave the Doge’s men the chance of a decisive charge,

and the rebels were driven back. Giustina Rossi, such was her name, was

taken before his Serenity, publicly thanked, and offered a handsome

reward. However she declined every proposal but at length she said she

would accept two favours:--“that she might hang out of her window a

banner of San Marco upon the anniversary of St Vito’s day; and that

her rent should never be raised beyond fifteen gold ducats a year.”

Both requests were at once granted, and the “Casa Giustina” as it was

called, just beyond the Arco del Cappello, was ever after a landmark in

Venice. A white stone on the pavement still marks the spot, and a bust

of the heroine Giustina was placed near the arch in 1841.

Little more can be recorded of “Proud Peter.” That he raised the

position of Doge to the highest point cannot be doubted, and his

treaties with European States,--England included,--caused his fame to

resound far and wide. His death was somewhat inglorious, he had gained

no man’s goodwill and no one mourned for him. The usual burial rites

of Doges were not accorded him, but privately his remains were removed

to the island of Murano, and secretly buried in the vaults of San

Cipriano:--it was in the winter of 1310.

One of the sweetest stories of old Venice is that of “La Beattina” or

“Beata.” In the Campo San Vio (Vito), close to the Palazzo Loredan,

there was, in the thirteenth century, a notable _casa_, where

resided Count Pier Nicolo Tagliapietra, a soldier of fortune in the

service of the Republic, and ennobled by the Emperor. One bright sunny

day in June, in the year 1289,--when Pietro Gradenigo was Doge,--the

Countess Elena presented her husband with a lovely baby girl--as

delicate as a daisy, as lovely as a lily. No name was found for the

child more suitable than “Maria Beata”; and, as she grew, the beauty of

her little person was matched by the sweetness of her disposition. “A

little saint come to earth,” was she called. Like all the mothers of

Venice Countess Elena was as devout in her religious duties as she was

devoted to her husband and her child. Daily she was one of the foremost

at Mass and Vespers, and, as soon as little Beata could toddle across

the _riva_ she accompanied her good mother in her visits to the

church of her choice, San Maurizio, across the Grand Canal.

There were no gondolas in those days so little Beata made friends with

the _barca_ men at the landing-place, any one of whom would ferry

the little Countess to the other side as often as she willed. After

a time the Count became uneasy at his daughter’s marked predilection

for Church and Convent,--he had in his mind a favourable marriage

scheme;--for girls were betrothed often as not whilst barely in their

teens. Beata would not listen to his proposals, and moreover disobeyed

his prohibition of her devotional exercises. The only way to check

his daughter’s visits to San Maurizio was to bribe the boatmen not to

ferry her across. A day came when, in spite of the girl’s startled

entreaties, not a man of them would do her service,--almost with tears

they refused her request. So Beata knelt upon the rough pavement of

the _riva_, and, holding up her hands to Heaven, she begged

Saint Mary and Saint Maurice both to help her in her trouble. Then,

approaching the canal side, she untied her pinafore, and, in sight of

her admirers, she spread it out upon the water, and stepped gently upon

it. It bore her weight and, wonder of wonders, began to move her from

her supporting boat-pile, and, wafted by a gentle breeze, La Beata was

soon at the other side of the canal!

Dumbfounded the boatmen and the _riva_ loungers stood gazing at the

wondrous scene, and then, with one accord all shouted “_Uno miracolo!

Uno Miracolo!_” The news was carried over the Campo, right down each

_riva_ and _calle_, until all Venice knew that they possessed another

Saint,--a holy virgin, a new companion for their beloved Santa Giustina.

Whatever might have been Count Tagliapietra’s plan for Beata’s

betrothal mattered little, for every eligible youth in Venice promptly

made an offer for her hand; but no suitor received encouragement, for

“La Beata” professed herself a “Bride of Christ,”--the bride of none

beside,--the convent cell should be her marriage bed, the altar her

_cassone_,--so resolved she prayed most earnestly for death; life had

no charms for her.

A merciful Providence, perhaps, granted the child-saint’s request, for,

from no apparent cause, save only her earnest wish, she surrendered her

young beauteous life on the eve of All Saints’ in 1308--it was in her

one-and-twentieth year. All Venice followed “La Beata” to her burial

at San Vito with tears of joy and words of sorrow. Never since the

strict sumptuary laws were passed did so many wax candles illuminate

church and _casa_. Everybody burned one to the young saint’s

honour, and then her sepulchre became a shrine,--a place for special

prayer, a rendezvous for pilgrims. Annually the Doge and Dogaressa

with their official household made a State visit to San Vito and left

their offerings at “La Beata’s” altar. Strangest of all strange

devotions,--a custom sprang up in Venice, “the City of Saints,” on All

Saints’ Day. “La Beata’s” coffin was uncovered, and mothers came from

far and near to lay their new-born babes upon the saintly bones--a

certain preventive from drowning! The devotion to Santa Beata became

so absorbing that at last, to avoid scandals, it was decided by the

Ecclesiastical authorities to seal her tomb and forbid her votaries.

Nevertheless from that time to this the church of St Vito is thronged

at the yearly festival of All Saints with mothers and their young

children who have learned from them the story and the virtues of “the

sweetest of the Saints of Venice.”

CHAPTER IV

I

“A Galley full of demons” is by no means an inapt title for the

fourteenth century in Venice! The legend of “_Il Pescatore e

l’Anello_” is as well-known as any of the stories in the boudoir

of the “Queen of the Adriatic,” moreover, in a strangely weird and

prophetic way, it epitomises the storm and calm of the new century’s

course from start to finish.

“An old boatman, caught in the raging flood of February the

twenty-fifth, in the year 1340,--when all Venice was three feet under

water,--and hardly making St Mark’s quay, with his frail craft, was

told by a haughty stranger to ferry him across the wild waves to San

Giorgio Maggiore. There, another passenger joined the pair, and the

timorous gondolier was directed to make for San Niccolo di Lido. ‘Row

boldly and thou shalt be well rewarded’ was the order. At the Lido

another stranger came on board, and the oarsman was commanded to push

his boat out into the open sea. The ocean churned in fury, and, out of

the fume, the affrighted boatman beheld a huge galley bearing down upon

his barca; it was full of mad demons! But lo, at the sign of the Cross

the awesome vessel vanished, and the tumultuous elements became still.

Back to Venice rowed the old man, and demanded his due. ‘Go to the

Procurator, he shall pay thee for me,’ replied the stranger. ‘Who art

thou?’ asked the man,--‘I am Saint Mark, and my companions are Saint

George and Saint Nicholas,--take this ring and give it to the Doge.’”

Andrea Dandolo was the Procurator and Bartolommeo Gradenigo the Doge,

Paris Bordone and Palma Vecchio painted the legend and their pictures

hang in the Accademia.

The new century saw the demise of the first political Doge of

Venice--Pietro Gradenigo, and his successor was not sought among men

of like sympathies,--the electors were afraid. Meeting after meeting

was held, apparently in vain, no noble appeared willing to accept, or

eligible for, the vacant dignity. At last, one day, standing at an open

window of the Ducal Palace, which gave upon the Piazza, some weary

nobles of the Council discerned an old man hobbling upon his stick and

bearing a basket filled with loaves of bread, he was Messir Marino

Zorzi or Giorgio.

“That’s our Doge!” they cried together, and so it came to pass that the

vacant _dogado_ went to a man unknown in political and warlike

circles but very highly esteemed for his philanthropy. He was in fact,

at that very moment on his way to the Hospital of San Domenigo for

destitute children, which he had recently founded. His fame for charity

was so widely spread, that he had gained the popular title of “_Zorzi

il Santo_.” He and his Consort, Madonna Agnese, were greatly

interested in the prosperity of the silk industry in Venice, and when

the people of Lucca fled from the troops of the Condottiere Castruccio

Castracane, thirty families of spinners and weavers of silken tissue

were welcomed by the Doge and Dogaressa, and, by their influence,

housed in the Calle della Bissa, near the church of San Giovanni

Crisostomo, in the very centre of the silk quarter of the city. By

Dogaressa Agnese’s intervention Lucca silk-masters were appointed to

train apprentices and generally to superintend the production of silk

fabrics in the workshops of the Venetian “_Fragilia_.”

“Zorzi il Santo” and his Consort reigned but one brief year, and then

once again the electors had to find a new Head of the State. Almost

unanimously Messir Giovanni Soranzo was chosen, who, although turned

seventy years of age, was one of the most active men of the day. Among

his exploits were the command of a victorious fleet against Genoa, the

capture of Jaffa and the Syrian littoral, the humiliation of Padua,

the re-conquest of Dalmatia, and the reconciliation of Venice to the

Papal See. Under his patronage, and that of Dogaressa Franchesina,

the silk industry flourished exceedingly and Oriental brocades and

tissues were driven out of the market. The glass-workers of Murano

reached the zenith of their fame, and no more mirrors from Germany

and hanging-lamps from Greece were imported. The Arsenal was greatly

extended, and was made capable of maintaining fully equipped at least

40,000 men. For the poor man too Doge Soranzo’s rule was fortunate,

for a silver ducat could purchase enough food, and wine, and fuel, for

himself and his family for a week.

The Doge was a wealthy man, and indeed he had need to be, for in his

time ambassadors from every civilised State took up their residence

in Venice. Foreign princes also came to make their bows to the

Head of the Serene Republic. There was much entertaining and much

expense. Dogaressa Franchesina was in all but name, “Queen of Venice”;

her toilet, her boudoir, her receptions were modish, tasteful, and

splendid. The Soranzi were one of the eight considerable families, who,

in the tenth century, were classed with the “Apostolic” twelve and

“Evangelistic” four, in the first grade of Venetian nobility. Their

palace was one of the grandest in Venice and it was full of costly

treasures; it was even said that the table-service of the Doge and

Dogaressa was of gold and silver-gilt, whilst the most lustrous glass

of Murano glittered in every room.

Although Doge Soranzo’s public life was so successful and so

popular,--in private, his heart, and that of the Dogaressa were broken

by anxiety and sorrow,--thus evenly are mundane affairs balanced. The

story of Donna Soranza, their dearly-loved daughter, is as sad as sad

can be. Married to Niccolo, eldest son of Marco Quirino, the leader

of the Quirini-Tiepolo conspiracy, he was exiled with his wife, the

very day his father’s head fell to the executioner’s axe. They made

their home at Zara, but Messir Niccolo survived his expatriation but

four years, when he too fell, stabbed by an unknown hand. The widowed

Madonna sought to return to Venice and to her father’s home, but her

appeals were all in vain; Doge Soranzo, like another Brutus, treated

his daughter’s pleas with quite uncalled-for severity. At last she

determined to throw herself upon the mercy of the Council of Forty,

and taking her way hopefully, she presented herself dutifully to her

father and mother.

That was a mournful home-coming, and mother and daughter, clasped in

each other’s arms, resisted the austere ruling of the Doge, who had

informed the Council of his daughter’s return. In spite of all good

Dogaressa Franchesina could say or do her unhappy child was torn from

her embrace and condemned to perpetual exclusion in the Convent of

Santa Maria delle Vergine. Gentlewomen of Madonna Soranza Quirini’s

position were styled “Canonesses,” and each had her own little

_casa_ and a domestic servant, who was allowed to go out washing,

and was permitted to make purchases for her mistress, and even to

convey messages to her friends. The poor ladies were not suffered even

to visit each other, and they could only take exercise in the Convent

garden at rare and stated intervals.

Every year the Doge paid a ceremonial visit to the Convent, where

he was received with great honour by the Abbess and the superior

Canonesses, who were all arrayed in magnificent white silk-brocade

robes, and each wore two veils,--one black and one white,--signifying

that though in the world they were not of it. The Abbess handed the

Doge a bouquet of sweet flowers in a golden jewelled holder, and he

bestowed in return caskets of sweetmeats upon the devout recluses.

Never once did father and daughter meet; she yearned to embrace him

and her mother, but he never even made enquiries about her: she was

dead to the world, to the family, and to him,--a Spartan father’s

discipline! Letters and messages were all in vain; unhappy Madonna

Soranza’s only consolation was the companionship of another Quirino

widow,--Andreola,--who remained a very short time in the Convent, for a

suitor appeared, in the person of Angelo Bembo, and he was permitted to

remove his _innamorata_ to the Convent of Santa Maria di Valverde,

upon the island of Mazzorbo, where they were married.

Alas! poor Madonna Soranza had no such fortune, but she pined and pined

in her solitude, and, after twenty-five years of suffering, she laid

her down and died--twenty years after the death of her stern father.

Certainly an edict, passed in 1313, sentenced the wives of rebels and

outlaws, with their children, to perpetual exile: and they were warned

that unsanctioned return to Venice would be visited with perpetual

confinement. Undoubtedly this proved the rule, as sententious writers

have noted:--The sternness of justice is superior to the tenderness of

affection.

Nevertheless to the practical historian Giovanni Soranzo ranks as the

sixth “Grand” Doge of Venice. His was a majestic burial--in State he

lay at SS. Giovanni e Paolo, watched by the sorrowing Dogaressa and

her ladies of honour. His very simple tomb in the Soranzo Chapel at

San Marco is eloquent of splendid public work simply done. The State

purchased his gorgeous table-service of gold, and much of the furniture

of his palace for use at Court functions. Of Dogaressa Franchesina we

hear no more: perhaps she joined her unhappy daughter, and when she

died, perhaps she was interred in her husband’s tomb. Very striking,

in the story of the Dogaressas of Venice, are the silence and the

secrecy which shrouded each Ducal lady’s latter days: as a rule they

survived their Consorts--some entered convents and some retained their

homes,--but their glory departed like that of the tropical sun which

leaves no twilight.

Francesco Dandolo succeeded to the Dogeship: he was the great-grandson

of Messir Andrea Dandolo, who died in 1153, brother of the “Grand”

Doge Arrigo. His election was very popular, for his ancestry and his

own achievements were both famous. He was the third Dandolo Doge, an

honour never attained by any family in Venice since the ancient times

of the Particepazio, the Candiani, the Orseoli and the Michieli.

Borne to his investiture upon the shoulders of stalwart craftsmen, he

called a halt at San Marco, and there he knelt in silent prayer where

his great-great uncle, the “Grand” Doge Arrigo Dandolo, had knelt one

hundred years or more before. Then, standing in the choir, he was

invested with the regalia of his high office. Grasping the great banner

of San Marco, handed to him by the Patriarch he marched at the head of

the huge procession to the Ducal Palace. Mounting the grand staircase

he bared his head, and, holding up his hands on high, subscribed the

oath and received the _Corno_. It was the first Ducal bonnet to

be provided by the State: hitherto the Abbess of San Zaccaria had held

that prerogative. With the new _Corno_ was also a smaller horned

head-dress for the Dogaressa.

It seemed as though Madonna Elisabetta would enter upon a less

trammelled position, and obtain a larger measure of official

recognition than had been the lot of her predecessors. Later

developments confirmed this idea as we shall see. Immediately after

the installation of the Doge the customary lordly deputation went off

to the Dandolo Mansion. It was noteworthy that at the head of the

noble Lords was, for the first time, the imposing figure of the High

Chancellor, a dignitary second only to the Doge, and it was he who

addressed her Serenity:--“We have come,” he said, “to congratulate

the Dogaressa of Venice upon the election of her noble Consort as our

Doge, and to request the honour of your Serenity’s adhesion to certain

provisions of the new _Promissione_.”

Dogaressa Elisabetta notified her pleasure at the compliment, which was

paid her, and her acceptance of the conventions of her new dignity.

Moreover she presented to each of the noble Lords a magnificently

embroidered silk purse containing ten golden ducats, in recognition

of their courtesy and as a pledge of her favour. This was a notable

victory for the Dogaressa who, whilst under the old _Promissioni_,

was debarred from giving and receiving presents of any kind. What had

brought about this change in the policy of the Council no one has

recorded. Was it due to the awakening consciences of the nobles who,

perhaps, now saw the meanness and unworthiness of the restrictions

imposed upon the Head of the State and his Consort by former

enactments? Or was it due to the worthy records created by the latest

holders of the Dogaressaship in their manifestations of the advance of

gracious womanhood? Who shall say?

A further step in the honour rendered to the new Dogaressa was,

that, instead of the somewhat impromptu and tumultuous escort of the

members of the “_Fragilie_” to conduct her Serenity at once to the

Ducal Palace, a delay of seven days was ordered before her public

recognition. Then the great state barge “_Bucintoro_” was manned and

decorated as for the annual “Marriage of the Adriatic,” and steered

right up to the steps of the Dogaressa’s residence, whence she was

conducted on board with great circumstance and pomp. Clad in full

robes of State but bare-headed,--her hair like that of a young bride,

rippling around her shoulders,--Dogaressa Elisabetta was attended by

a graceful suite of _gentildonne_, all dressed in festal white with

floral wreaths and bouquets. Escorted, not by companies of craftsmen

on foot, but by a fleet of _bregantine_,--each vessel splendidly

decorated, and bearing the banner of its “_Fragilia_” with the Masters

and officials of the Craft in full regalia,--the water-pageant started

upon its course to the Piazzetta. Passing under the glorious arch of

the Ponte di Rialto, crowded with sympathetic and admiring citizens,

with difficulty it steered its course amid hundreds of barcas and

gondolas filled with cheering holiday-makers all in the very best of

good-humour.

Arrived at the Piazzetta her Serenity and her following were conducted,

not as usual to the Ducal Palace, but into the Basilica, where she

knelt in prayer, whilst the Patriarch blessed her as he had the Doge:

then she laid an offering upon the high altar--a purse of crimson

silk-brocade containing ten gold ducats. From San Marco she was

attended by a company of nobles, one holding over her head the Ducal

umbrella, to the _Sala de’ Signori di Notte_, within the Ducal Palace,

passing through the _Sala del Consiglio Maggiore_--the greatest and

most splendid hall in Venice, where the painter Guariento was already

busy with his famous frescoes,--and there she finds the Doge seated and

crowned upon his throne. Descending the steps of the dais, her Consort

takes her by the hand, and places her in the Dogaressa’s Chair of State

under the Ducal canopy. The Chancellor tenders the solemn oath and the

Dogaressa swears to maintain certain clauses of the “_Promissione_;”

then, in the name of the assembled noble Lords, he places upon her

bared head the miniature _Corno_, which the State had newly provided;

and, lastly, the nobles offer their congratulations and their homage.

Stately ceremony, ever wearying by its formalities, gives way to social

hospitality, and, as by custom bound, Dogaressa Elisabetta issues

invitations to all the Masters of Crafts and their officials to sup

with her in her private apartments. Meanwhile the busy hands of her

serving-maids have arranged the flowing locks of the Dogaressa’s hair,

and have added a new feature to her State head-dress,--a delicate coif

or veil of the finest embroidered cambric. It was a very necessary

adjunct, for, when the jewelled _Corno_ was removed, the dignity

of a covered head remained,--besides it was a most becoming mode. Thus

with unwonted pomp, and amid universal approbation Doge Francesco

Dandolo and Dogaressa Elisabetta were hailed almost as King and Queen

of Venice. Right royally they maintained their high station, for daily

they made progresses to different parts of the city or to the more

distant islands, in support of local charities or local interests; and

everywhere they were acclaimed by sympathetic crowds of citizens and

craftsmen.

The austere rule and the haughty personality of Doge Giovanni Soranzo

were things of the past, and the sad lot of unhappy widowed Madonna

Soranza Quirino was forgotten. Men and women were only too thankful

for the auspicious conditions under which they found themselves,--care

gave place to joy,--unrest to revelry. One outcome of the better state

of things,--and it was a very unexpected and withal amazing,--was

an innovation with respect to the “_Feste delle Marie_”--the annual

marriage of the “Brides of Venice” at San Pietro di Castello. The

ancient marriage rites,--which we have already noted,--had been

gradually modified, until there were scarcely any rites at all. In the

year of Dogaressa Elisabetta Dandolo’s Coronation, upon the natal Feast

of San Marco, a quaint marriage pageant was provided, and, instead of

twelve or more beauteous damsels in nuptial attire glittering through

Venice _calle_ and _canale_ to the marriage altar, twelve lay figures

were substituted. Dressed in bridal garb these dolls,--borne through

crowds of uproarious citizens,--were greeted up and down and everywhere

with derision as “_Marie di tola e di legno!_”--“Brides of stuff and

wood!”

Alas for the permanence of things human! The larger liberty granted by

the _Promissione_ to Doge and Dogaressa Francesco Dandolo in matters

social and sartorial, was curtailed considerably after five years of

general exuberance, and in 1334 fresh sumptuary laws were enacted.

Gentlewomen were not to wear trains at Court, or at home, or on

Piazza. Jewelled girdles, above the value of twenty gold ducats, were

forbidden. Gold and silver rouge jars and _scarcelle_, or handbags,

with jewels and gold filigree work, were no longer to be used. No

gentlewoman was to possess more than two capes of ermine and only one

big cloak lined with taffetas. Pearls, on the shoes, were disallowed,

and the wearing of peacocks’ feathers. The value of a bridal trousseau

was not to exceed five hundred ducats, whilst the bridal dress itself

was not to cost more than two hundred ducats--a very liberal allowance

as things went! The bride however was not permitted any robes of cloth

of gold nor ermine linings. Boys, under twelve could not wear gold

or silver ornaments, pearls, velvet, or fur: over twelve and up to

twenty-five, youths and young men were forbidden to wear belts and

_scarcelle_ exceeding twenty-five ducats in value. All were to wear a

strip of blue cloth hanging from the shoulder to the feet, which they

rolled up, and then threw over the left arm: “_Calar Stola_” it was

called.

The dogado of Francesco Dandolo lasted ten years,--a period

of prosperity for Venice,--and much of it was due to the wise

and tactful conduct of the Doge. If he may not be reckoned a

“Grand Doge,”--although Ruskin calls him so in the “_Stones of

Venice_,”--it is perhaps because, as a Dandolo, he was overshadowed

by the stronger personality of his relative and successor Doge Andrea

Dandolo, whose times were far more stirring and presented greater

opportunities for distinction. On the other hand Elisabetta was

a “Grand Dogaressa”--one of the few who rose to high station and

maintained it with distinction.

Both Doge and Dogaressa were patrons of the new-born Fine Arts, for, in

addition to the fresco painter Guariento, Giacomo del Fiore, Lorenzo

Veneziano, and others were painting altar-pieces and anconas in the

earliest Venetian studios--a hundred years or more before the brothers

Vivarini founded the School of Murano. In the Sacristy of the church

of Santa Maria della Salute is a picture by an anonymous Venetian

painter, representing the presentation, by their patron Saints, of

Doge Francesco Dandolo and Dogaressa Elisabetta upon their knees, to

the Madonna and Bambino. The picture is dated 1338, and is one of the

very earliest paintings of the great School of Venice. Originally this

notable painting was placed over the tomb of Doge Francesco Dandolo and

Dogaressa Elisabetta in the Chapter-House of the church of the Frari.

The sarcophagus also has been removed, and now it is in the cloisters

of the _Seminario Patriarchale_. The year of the Doge’s death we

know, 1339, but there is no record of that of Dogaressa Elisabetta.

II

Andrea Dandolo (1342–1384) was the fourth and last Doge of his family.

It is not a little remarkable, that in the History of Venice, the

families which gave several Doges, up to the end of the fourteenth

century, did so within severally restricted periods:--for example,

the seven Partecipazi Doges held office between the years 827–942,

the five Candiani 886–977, the three Orseoli 976–1009, the three

Michieli 1096–1172, the four Dandoli 1192–1354 and the three Gradenighi

1283–1356. It would seem as though the “Apostolic” families came to

honour and power, and swayed the destinies of the Republic, and then,

in some mysterious manner, declined, fell away, and the Ducal Throne

knew them no more.

[Illustration: DOGE FRANCESCO DANDOLO AND DOGARESSA ELISABETTA.

STEFANO DA VENEZIA. 1340.

SACRISTY. SANTA MARIA DEL SALUTE, VENICE.]

Doge Andrea was the son of Messir Fantino Dandolo who was descended

from Marco Dandolo Procurator of San Marco in 1161, and first cousin of

the “Grand” Doge Arrigo. The first Venetian noble to study at Padua and

obtain the Doctor’s degree there, Andrea Dandolo was, from his boyhood,

studious and reserved. He served the State in many public offices, a

member of the Council of Ten, in 1340 he was called to the important

position of Procurator of San Marco.

Upon his election as Doge in 1342 an edict was issued barring his three

sons, Fantino, Lionardo and Pietro, when grown, from holding public

office during their father’s _dogado_. As to who was their mother

no chronicler has apparently recorded, and this is astonishing, seeing

that Andrea Dandolo’s “_Cronaca_” is one of the fullest and most

reliable of all Venetian annals, and deals exhaustively with his own

family affairs. Consequently we must make the most of the romance of

Madonna Isabella de’ Fieschi, the Consort of Luchino Visconti, Lord of

Milan.

This fascinating Princess visited Venice attracted by the fame of the

young Doge,--he was only thirty-five years old when elected to the

Ducal Throne,--for his sobriquet all through Lombardy and the Marches

was “Count of Courtesy.” He was tall, well-built, and handsome, a

poetaster, a man of letters, perhaps a genius, the most accomplished

nobleman in Venice. Fair Isabella had, as all women have, her own

ideas of love and witchery, and she was not too conscientious in her

duty to her husband: he was a man of boorish manners, and there was

no love lost between them. Gifted too in many ways, she conceived a

violent passion for Doge Dandolo which he returned in a dreamy sort

of way. Anyhow, she soon became leader of the Venetian Court, as well

as mistress of the Doge. Alas! bewitching Isabella’s intimacy and

influence were cut short by a terrible outbreak of the Black Death,

which claimed very many noble victims and Isabella de’ Fieschi among

them.

Between 1344 and 1346 it was estimated that sixty noble families were

absolutely exterminated, whilst the Council of Forty was reduced to

less than twenty. The only preventive, and it was only partially

successful that the Guild of the Physicians could prescribe, was a

concoction of aromatic herbs, amber, and ivy berries--“_Teriaca_”

it was called. The Government guaranteed this panacea, which everyone

was ordered to take--it was procurable at the _Speziale della Testa

d’Oro_ by the Rialto bridge. It was an ancient Greek remedy revived,

and one may purchase it to-day at the still existent “Golden Head.”

Venice was depopulated and families from outlying islands near the

mainland were welcomed by the Government, and granted privileges on

settlement. This sensible move was due to the Doge’s advocacy: he

had in view the advantages of introducing new blood into the veins

of the population enervated by prosperity and weakened by epidemic.

Earthquakes and famine followed relentlessly upon the heels of the

pestilence, and great distress and reckless outrage were added to the

evil lot of the Venetians.

The Doge alone kept calm and resourceful--master of the situation,

whilst men were losing their heads and women their minds; but the

anxieties, sufferings, and fatigues of the years of visitation preyed

greatly upon his highly-strung and sympathetic temperament, and he died

almost suddenly and, quite alone when no more than fifty years of age.

Andrea Dandolo is renowned as the eighth “Grand” Duke of Venice, by

reason of his remarkable personal qualities, and of his noble devotion

to the Republic. He was buried in the Baptistery of San Marco, the

last Doge to be there interred, and Francesco Petrarch wrote his

epitaph:--“He earned such glory and honour as no other Venetian

Doge did before him!” One very pleasant episode in his career was

his intimacy with Petrarch. After the decisive Chioggian war with

Genoa, when the “Queen of the Adriatic” subdued the “Queen of the

Mediterranean,”--Francesco Petrarch was sent, as one of an embassy from

Milan, to seek mitigation of the Venetian terms of peace. The mission

was unsuccessful, but the “Grand” Doge and the “Great” Poet became fast

friends and constant correspondents.

Ruskin, in his “_Stones of Venice_,” writes thus of the Baptistery

and of Andrea Dandolo’s tomb:--“We are in a low vaulted room ... in

the centre a bronze font ... and a small figure of the Baptist ... a

single ray of light falls from a window ... the only thing it strikes

brightly is a tomb, and it rests upon the sleeper’s face for ever, a

man of middle life, but there are two deep furrows right across the

forehead, the features are small and delicate, the lips sharp ... and

there is a sweet smile upon them. It is Doge Andrea Dandolo, a man

early great among the great of Venice, and early lost ... he died,

leaving behind him that History to which we owe half of what we know of

the former fortunes of Venice.”

The mosaics in the Baptistery show the Doge kneeling in devout prayer,

but, alas, no Dogaressa keeps him company.

The Conspiracy of Marino Falier or Faliero, like its predecessors,

under the leadership respectively of Marco Bocconio and of Marco

Quirino and Baiamonte Tiepolo, in aim and animus, was very unlike

in means and methods. They tried to grasp the supreme magistracy

from the aristocratic standpoint. Falier, although an “aristocrat

of aristocrats,” sought the suffrages of the democracy to make him

Over-Lord of Venice. Head of one of the noblest and most ancient

families, Marco or Marino Falier was born in the Casa Falier, upon

the Rio de SS. Apostoli in the year 1280. The Falieri were one of the

twelve “Apostolic” families at Eraclea in 697. The lad’s parents were

Messir Vitale Falier and Madonna Beriola Loredan,--daughter of Messir

Giovanni Loredan of San Canciano,--and he was destined for a commercial

career but early he turned to politics.

Marino Falier held many important State appointments, and, by

his ability and disinterestedness, gained the confidence of his

fellow-nobles and the citizens at large. His patriotism was

unquestioned, for no one displayed greater enthusiasm in hunting down

the adherents of the Quirino-Tiepolo conspiracy. When still under

thirty he was admitted to the Council of Ten, and became ambassador,

in turn, to the Duke of Austria, the Genoese Republic, and to the

Emperor Charles V. Falier also held with distinction both naval and

military commands. Upon his appointment as Podesta of Treviso he

took the title of Count of Val di Morena. Francesco Petrarch, in his

“_Epistolæ_,” speaks of Marino Falier’s wisdom and public spirit:

“_Ducatus honor non petat uno quidem ignaro sibi obliget._”

Falier was married twice. When a mere youth he wooed and won Donna

Tommasina Contarini, his equal in rank, but as delicate as she was

beautiful. Within a year she was torn from his embrace and carried away

in the black chariot drawn by black oxen in the “Triumph of Death.” One

sweet pledge of love fair Tommasina left her sorrowing young husband,

but the relentless “Mower” reaped the baby girl, soon after her sweet

mother’s death. Prostrated by this double bereavement Falier plunged

into the vortex of politics, hoping thereby to heal his wounds. Time

gave him consolation and revenge for when he was fifty-five he found

himself once more a prisoner of the “Triumph of Love.”