Aluycia Gradenigo was a very fascinating woman,--a full-blown rose

ready to be gathered by a gallant suitor. She was a daughter of

Messir Nicolo Gardenigo of San Maurizio and grandniece of Doge

Pietro,--“Proud Peter.” In her veins ran the blood of Greek ancestors,

who, driven out of Byzantium by the Emperor Emmanuel settled at Altino,

in the seventh century. Falier was Podesta of Treviso at the time

of his second marriage and Treviso was always the “Court of Beauty

and of Love,”--the centre of the “_Marca Amorosa_.” Naturally,

gay young fellows gathered there, many of them drawn from Venice,

among them Pietro Bollani, Michele Molino, Rizzardo Marioni, Moretto

Zorzi, Maffio Morosini, and the two brothers Giovanni and Michele

Steno--“_Giovinastri_”--“Insolent Young Dogs,” were they nicknamed.

Madonna Aluycia Falier did not want for admirers, and, if Martino

Sanudo, and other chroniclers, may be believed, she greatly encouraged

their advances. She was a good deal younger than her husband, and

cared little for his engrossing affairs of State, whilst, naturally,

she sought consolation and companionship among those of her own age.

Between Michele Steno and the Countess sprang up a warm attachment,

and gossips have not been at pains to shield the young wife’s honour.

Anyhow the Podesta got wind of the _liaison_ and warned the hardy

lover off. Steno was not the man to take his _congé_ readily, and

very soon he learned that directly lovely Aluycia was “off with the

old love, she was on with the new!” He made up his mind to be revenged

of the stern Podesta and his bewitching wife, so he left Treviso in

dudgeon and went back to Venice to watch for his opportunity.

During the festivities which marked the election of Marino Falier to

the Doge’s seat in 1354, was a Court Ball at the Ducal Palace, and

Michele Steno was among the guests. He was greeted by the Doge and

Dogaressa quite cordially, but all the same he chose to carry out

his plan of humiliating them there. Pressing his attention upon one

of Dogaressa Aluycia’s maids-of-honour he let fall a remark which

concerned his previous relations with her Serenity. Greatly shocked,

the Court lady repeated what she had heard to others at the Ball and

presently it reached the Doge’s ear. The Doge beckoned him, and turning

aside, insisted upon his leaving the assembly at once. Steno resisted,

and was beginning to repeat his slander for all to hear when the Doge

ordered his removal. Passing through the Throne-room of the Palace he

scratched upon the marble Chair of Estate the following couplet:--

“Marin Falier--da la bela moier

Altri la galde--e lu la mantier.”

The Doge was furious. Steno was arrested and accused before the Council

of his misdemeanour. His offence was as gross as gross could be and

he fully deserved much more than he got;--a sound thrashing with a

fox-tail,--a mark of ignominy,--a year of imprisonment, and a fine

of one hundred gold ducats. This mild sentence troubled Doge Falier

greatly: he looked for the death sentence at least, seeing that the

offence was against the sacred person of the Doge, as well as against

his Consort. He was quite conversant with the fact that the majority

of the nobles were actuated by anything but kindly feelings towards

himself. No doubt they viewed his prominence, not alone as Doge but as

the most able and ambitious man among them, with disquietude.

Marino Falier was quite in touch with the opinions of the wealthier

citizens and members of the prosperous “_Fragilie_.” Of course the

Crafts were under Dogaressa Aluycia’s special patronage, but he shared

her interest in the prosperity of the industrial classes. If the nobles

looked askance at his pretensions, could he not turn to the great

democracy, and pose as the champion of their liberties! This was the

policy which grew more and more upon him. Michele Steno’s affair passed

over but it opened the Doge’s eyes to the peril of his position, and,

to safeguard that was his first concern. He could not trust the nobles,

could he trust the people?

Notwithstanding that the chivalrous discipline of the Crusades had

enduring influence upon the sentiments and manners of every class in

Venice, and especially upon the nobles, there remained, of course,

beneath the outward marks of courtesy and good-breeding very much of

the old Adam of insolence and profanity. Year by year young men and old

frequented, in ever-increasing numbers, Church, Piazza and Palace with

nothing in the world to do but to kill time and incidentally their own

and others’ reputations.

Many of these idlers were out-of-elbow noblemen--“_Barnabotti_”

they were dubbed in derision, as hangers-on to anybody with money or

influence. Proud, dissolute, discontented, and ever ready for insult

or injury, this ill-conditioned mob was a menace to the peace and

well-being of the Republic. Sometimes after more than usually prolonged

devotions in the Temple of Bacchus, these good-for-nothings sallied

forth to commit acts of vandalism in the city: at other times, their

visitations to the Court of Venus fomented jealousies, which found vent

only in deeds of personal violence against those they feared or hated.

One such outburst occurred only a few days after Michele Steno’s insult

in the Palace. The Admiral of the Arsenal was Bertruccio Isarello, a

man ambitious, unscrupulous, and intolerant to his subordinates. A

very quarrelsome _Condottiere del Mare_, one Francesco Barbaro,

considered himself wronged in some way by the Admiral, and, obtaining

no satisfaction, he had the audacity to strike his chief in the Council

Chamber! Admiral Isarello reported the circumstance to the Doge, and

sought, through him, redress.

“How can I help you, remember,” replied Falier, “how grossly Michele

Steno insulted me, and see how leniently the Forty treated him!” Then

seeing that the Doge’s rancour was unabated and, knowing something of

his Serenity’s sentiments with respect to the democracy, the Admiral

exclaimed:--

“My Lord, why should we suffer these ‘_Barnabotti_’ and these

‘_Bravi_’ any longer. You, my Lord Doge, have a ready remedy, and

I am prepared to aid you in punishing them and in humiliating some

of our great lords, if you will confide in me and in my men of the

Arsenal, who are your friends and mine.” This was the first step in

the conspiracy of Marino Falier, and he did not linger long before he

stepped again.

Everything was ordered secretly, and the conspirators were ready

for the summons of the Great Bell of San Marco on the morning

of 15th April,--the usual official notice that a meeting of the

Council demanded the immediate presence of the Forty. The Admiral’s

instructions were to strike down every nobleman who obeyed the summons,

and, in the confusion, to proclaim Falier Sovereign of Venice. There

was however a traitor in the camp, one Beltramo a Bergamesque furrier,

a client of Stefanello Trevisan the Doge’s stockbroker at Santa

Margherita. This man gathered something of the existence of the plot,

and forthwith made his way to one of his barber associates, a valet

in the household of Messir Nicolo Lioni of San Stefano, a member of

the Council, who informed his master. Without much ado the chief

conspirators were arrested--some thirty to forty in number. When

charged with being privy to the plot Doge Marino Falier tossed up his

proud head, and laying his hand upon his sword-hilt exclaimed:--“_Il

Doxe nol seppe ingane!_”--“The Doge never lies!”

The Doge had short shrift: he was allowed to make his will and his

confession, but not to see his miserable wife Dogaressa Aluycia or

any member of his family or household. Early upon the morrow of the

detection of his conspiracy, the great bell of the Basilica, which

had all but clanged forth the death-knell of the Lords of the Council

gave forth the funeral peal as for the burial of a Doge. Arrayed in

his State robes and wearing his Ducal _Corno_ Marino Falier was

led into the great Courtyard of the Ducal Palace, and stepped forth

to death bravely and contemptuously. His proud appeal for a hearing

was refused, and then, stripped of his panoply of office, the old man

knelt unresistingly upon the hard stones and bared his neck before the

executioner. One swift blow sufficed and the gory grey-bearded head

rolled to the feet of the chief of the Council, who picking it up in

his arms, hurried into the _loggia_ which gave upon the Piazza,

and there, exposing his ghastly trophy to the excited multitude, cried

out:--“Look!--all of you!--look!--Ripe justice hath been done to the

arch-traitor!” Then he cast the foul thing from him into the middle of

the Courtyard, where the populace thrust and fought to gaze at, revile,

and dishonour the corpse of the old Doge whom they had so lately

venerated and trusted. At dark the remains were gathered together and

taken secretly in a covered barge, with eight big burning torches, and

buried in the Faliero vault in the chapel of Madonna della Pace, within

the great church of SS. Giovanni e Paolo.

We must now turn aside from this terrible tragedy, and contemplate a

tragedy far more pathetic, the sad tragedy of Dogaressa Aluycia. The

execution of the Doge involved the confiscation of his property, his

palace, near the bridge of SS. Apostoli, with its marble columns, and

a _casa_ by the church of San Severo which had been built for

Falier by the architect Calendario, and their valuable contents. Marino

Falier and his Consort had been keen collectors of beautiful objects

and antiques: in an Inventory of their treasures,--made by a priest,

Giovanni, of the church of SS. Apostoli, in 1351, mention is made of

the _Camera rubea_,--a museum,--and of another apartment, filled

with objects of art,--collected by the famous explorer Marco Polo

during his travels.

The unhappy Dogaressa was dispossessed of all her Consort had left her

and ordered to vacate her home and go where she would. In one swift

moment plunged from the lofty height of the Ducal Throne into the abyss

of ignominy, she was reduced to absolute poverty and became the mark

of every evil tongue, an object of aversion and suspicion. Prostrated

by her bitter woe she besought Heaven to let her die,--madness was

the only alternative,--she sought comfort and release but both were

denied her. Her mind became a blank, her reason tottered, and when at

length two lifelong friends dared, at the risk of their own lives, to

penetrate her hiding-place, Messiri Giorgio Giustiniani and Niccolo

Contarini, they found her a raving lunatic.

By permission of the Council Dogaressa Aluycia was placed in the

Convent of San Lorenzo on the _fondamento_ of San Severo, where

she received a small gold brooch and some other trifling mementos

of her husband. After a while she was moved to Verona where she had

property and friends, but the change wrought no relief and sorrowfully

she was sent back to Venice, where she ended her days in 1385, in a mad

asylum, forgotten by the world, with no child or friend to mourn her,

alone with God.

The conspiracy and execution of Doge Marino Falier shook the

constitution of Venice to its deepest foundations. Suspicion and

revenge lurked at every corner of church, palace, and piazza. Every

man’s hand was upon his poignard, each woman’s knee was bent in

intercession, and the children ceased their games.

Venice was once more “_Venezia Calva_”--but “Venice naked” in shame,

dismay, and tragedy.

III

Doges came and Doges went, and, with them, their Dogaressas: the last

half of the fourteenth century saw seven Heads of the State. Their

Consorts are named in the MS. _Dolfin Gradenigo_, in the Museo

Civico, but about only three of them have the chroniclers given us

much information. Calling to mind a quaint entry in the “_Archivio

Veneto_” of the year 1288, which deprecates matrimony and woman’s

influence as far as regards the Rulers of States, we may perhaps gather

the subtle meaning of the _excursus_ of Frate Paolino, a Minorite

of Venice.

“Whilst a man” he writes, “ought to seek a wife tall and well-formed,

that she may give him fine and comely children, he should, all the

same, never be ruled by her advice, for a woman has not sound counsel,

because she usually has not a strong constitution, and her mind is

apt to yield to the infirmities of the body.” Be this as it may, we

must look wider afield for circumstances which greatly altered the

conditions of the _dogado_.

The middle of the fourteenth century was remarkable as a period of

unusual political unrest and of unprecedented immorality. The great

middle-class of Venetian citizens had not only gradually acquired

wealth and influence, but they were determined that the Government

of the Republic should no longer rest exclusively in the hands of the

nobles. The City was agitated with measures against the aristocracy,

which were greatly strengthened by the consequences attending the

execution of Doge Marino Falier. The dreaded revolution was however

averted and the new Doge, Giovanni Gradenigo, though a grandson of the

aristocratic “Proud Peter,” was known to be a man of particularly suave

and considerate character--“_Il Nasone_” he was called because of

his bottle-nose. His Consort was Madonna Marina Cappello,--a lineal

descendant of Andrea Cappello, the hero of the “Rape of the Brides of

Venice” in Doge Pietro Candiano IV.’s time.

Amid all the political commotions, women came very much more into

public life. Hitherto restrained by almost Oriental enactments they now

began to throw off the conventions which so narrowly prescribed their

position. The Senate and the domestic hearth were alike imperilled:

women lost their modesty, and men their continence. Dress and manners

yielded to the infatuation: women’s breasts were bared, and men’s hose

became indecent. Delicate living and pleasure unrestrained changed the

proverbial decorum of Venice. New ideas Platonic and otherwise were

rife concerning the relations of the sexes. Venice was full of light

women, not natives only, but frail beauties from beyond the lagunes,

drawn thither by the fine figures and fat purses of the men. In the

year 1360 the number of courtesans exceeded twelve thousand!

[Illustration: COURTESANS.

Vettore Carpaccio.

ACCADEMIA, VENICE.]

The scandal was so glaring that the Government of Doge Giovanni

Delfino (1356–1361), issued an edict forbidding such women from

occupying common lodging-houses, joining supper parties of men, and

going about the city--except on Saturdays: at the same time they were

required to reside within the _sestiere_ of Castelletto, near the

Ponte di Rialto. Very strict laws were passed by the Council of Forty

for the preservation of morals; hanging was the punishment meted out

to offenders. The story of Madonna Veneranda Porta, who lived in the

second half of the century,--still recounted among the gondoliers,--is

indicative of the state of society. She had an unsympathetic husband,

and as a consequence, a lover, and he slew Messir Giorgio Porta. The

lovers were arrested and condemned to suffer the extreme penalty of

the law. Madonna Veneranda protested “that Venice had never yet hung a

woman,--it would be too indecent,--and she would not be the first to be

so punished.” “You shall hang,” replied the chief of the Council, “in a

sack!”

Doge Giovanni Delfino, in 1357, founded an Hostel for Fallen

Women--“_redire ad penitentiam et contriciam_”; and, he and his

Consort,--whose name we do not even know,--established as many as

seventeen receiving houses for children exposed in the byways and

water-ways. His _dogado_ was calamitous for Venice abroad as well

as at home. “He was,” the historians tell us, “nevertheless, a true

soldier, honourable and patriotic.” He died in 1361, his body was laid

in State,--the first Doge so honoured,--in the _Sala de’ Signori

di Notte_, and was buried at SS. Giovanni e Paolo,--where his

sarcophagus, enriched with sculptures has bas-reliefs of the Doge and

Dogaressa kneeling at the feet of the enthroned Christ.

There were several candidates for the vacant Throne and much delay was

experienced in the selection of the new Doge, but, whilst the electors

hesitated, news came of a famous naval achievement of the Venetian

fleet, under Lorenzo Celsi, “the Captain of the Gulf.” He was a brave

man and the idol of the people, with no claims whatever to nobility of

rank, possessed of only moderate means, and under fifty years of age.

His name was shouted in the Piazza, and a vast concourse of craftsmen

and gondoliers rushed pell-mell to the Ducal Palace, and demanded his

election as Doge. The people’s caprice was for the nonce the nobles’

choice, and they bowed to the popular outcry.

The Dogaressa, Marchesina, daughter of Messir Girolamo Ghisi, a member

of one of the rising families of merchant-craftsmen, with her maids of

honour and an immense following set off to meet the sailor Doge on his

return to Venice. Without precedent for any such demonstration, the

“_Bucintoro_” was rowed out to sea, and signalled to the Lido the

first sail of the approaching squadron. Once more a popular hero was

borne shoulder-high into the Basilica, and in the Ducal Palace crowned

“Doge of Venice and of her Dominions beyond the Sea,” so ran his title.

Lorenzo Celsi was prepared to be all things to all men and made endless

promises of democratic reforms, such as the manner is of men not to the

manner born. A man of splendid physique and brimful of ambitious ideas

he determined not only to make the most of his good fortune, but to

render his _dogado_ as magnificent as possible.

For his own protection he took very wise precautions: sailors were not

quite the kind of guard he and his family required, so, very adroitly,

as he thought, he enrolled scores and scores of lawless men of the

city,--the “_Bravi_”--as a body-guard to deal with disagreeable

persons. These men soon had the measure of the Doge, and assumed a

demeanour which imperilled the personal safety of all against whom they

had any grudge whether public or private. Meetings to mark persons

for assassination were held secretly at the out-of-the-way laundry of

a woman named Tommasina Gobba, who was, by the way, laundress to the

Dogaressa. The worthy body turned Doge’s evidence, and the villains

were disbanded, but the Doge came in for fierce aspersions and serious

suspicions. It was easy to say that he instigated measures of violence,

so as to safeguard himself and his position.

Very fortunately for Celsi’s vindication of his _bona fides_ came

the visit of Francesco Petrarch to Venice: “a place of peace and rest”

he imagined it, but he found it “full of depravity and profanity.” A

very amusing story is told of the poet’s treatment of an importunate

visitor. The man would take no refusal, he sought alms and patronage.

Failing to convince Petrarch he set to work to insult him with odious

language,--“such as only Venetians used,”--whereupon the poet seized

him by the throat and kicked him down the stairs!

Petrarch was treated royally by the Venetians, the Palazzo de Quattro

Torri, on the Grand Canal, was assigned to him as his residence, and at

Court functions he was seated on the right hand of the Doge. The first

of the pageants he beheld, was held in celebration of the Conquest of

Candia,--where “the most comely youths in Christendom displayed their

forms and prowess before the most beauteous maidens upon earth”: the

splendid spectacles inspired his “_Trionfi_.”

“Questa leggiadra e gloriosa Donna

Ch’ è oggi nudo spirto e poca terra,

E fugià di valor alta colonna,

Tornava con onor della sua guerra

Allegra, avendo vinto il gran nemico,

Che con suo’ inganni tutto ’l mondo attera.”

* * * * *

“La Bella Donna, e le compagne elette

Tornando dalla nobile Vittoria

In un bel drappelletto ivan ristrette.”--

No such brilliant tournament had ever been held in Venice: the Doge

himself, superbly mounted, broke a lance with the Prince of Cyprus. The

Poet, in an ecstasy of delight describes the Venetians as a “nation of

sailors, horsemen, and beauties!” He says “the Dogaressa placed crowns

of pure gold upon the victors’ heads, and clasped silver belts around

their hips.”

Petrarch lived seven years in Venice (1361–1368). In 1364 he wrote to

Giovanni Boccaccio:--“Come then to my call,” and the gay writer of the

“_Decamerone_” spent three months in Venice. Before his departure

Petrarch wrote to the Council of the Forty:--“I wish with the good

will of my Saviour and of the Evangelist, to make St Mark the heir of

my Library.” The bequest was gratefully accepted, but, alas, like many

more such benefactions, nothing now remains but a few mouldy worm-eaten

volumes.

Doge Lorenzo Celsi’s day of popularity went too the way of the world.

Like all risen men he became autocratic and presumed upon the liberties

and antecedents of the nobles, and they took their revenge. Upon

the thirtieth of July 1365, the Council of Ten passed a resolution

reflecting upon the Doge’s assumption of authority, and putting upon

record that the status of the nobles was in jeopardy. The wording of

the concluding sentence is quaint yet convincing:--“_quia non est de

neccessitate_”--“because we have no further need of him!”

The Doge was deposed, being suspected of favouring a reform in the

Government, which, whilst retaining the Ducal office, proposed

to transfer the powers of the Councils of Nobles to a parliament

representative of the citizens and craftsmen.

The circumstances attending the election of Doge Marco Corner, or

Cornaro (1365–1367) are amusingly pathetic. He was a very old man, well

over eighty years of age, and only remarkable for his uprightness, his

studiousness, and his poverty. To be sure he came of an “Evangelistic”

noble family,--equal in antiquity and distinction to the Giustiniani,

the Bembi, and the Bragadini,--but this accident of birth was neither

a ground for boasting nor an incentive to ambition. The electors

doubtless turned to him as being a simple-minded man, and one who would

not follow his predecessor in affectation of lordly superiority. When

the choice was made public very many people, in every class cavilled at

the selection:--“Surely there were more distinguished candidates for

the Supreme Office, at all events some who were less homely in their

surroundings,” they said; and they poked fun at old Corner’s lack of

means and at his old wife’s dowdy ways.

Dogaressa Caterina was an unaffected simple-hearted, domesticated

woman, with no claim to nobility or social distinction of any kind, but

a very worthy helpmeet to her spouse. Idle tongues wagged about her and

her ways and made fun of her little economies. The Doge bridled up at

the disparaging remarks, and, with dignity, rebuked the scoffers. “My

old wife,” he said, “is so good and so virtuous, that she has always

been respected by all the women of Venice quite as highly as if she

had come of one of the most distinguished families!” Some busybody had

seen the Madonna Caterina, quite lately, busy turning an old stuff

dress that she might wear it a little longer, and the gossip went round

the Palaces. Marco Corner met the sneer in a characteristic manner.

“Well, what of that?” he asked, “there are many noble lords and worthy

citizens in Venice, who would be only too thankful for such a useful

wife as mine. She is a good woman, and I will thank you to let her

alone.”

Certainly Dogaressa Caterina Corner was not born in the purple nor had

she any taste for ceremonial: we do not read of any imposing procession

of Guilds setting forth to conduct her to the Ducal Palace for her

coronation. The probability is that, with shrewd commonsense and no

great display of dress or jewels, she quietly took her place beside

her husband, bent on doing her duty in her new position, as she had

done all through her life. Whatever responsibilities devolved upon her

as Dogaressa, such as were connected with charity, education, and the

encouragement of industries were borne right nobly.

To good Marco Corner was due the issue of licenses by the Government

for poor people, past work at their usual avocations, to earn pittances

as itinerant street merchants. Besides this he was instrumental, with

good Dogaressa Caterina, in the establishment of hospitals for the aged

poor so that “none might end their days in misery nor die of hunger.”

Doge Marco Corner gained the respect of all and died regretted by those

who had mocked him. His tomb in SS. Giovanni e Paolo is one of the most

beautiful examples of fourteenth-century Gothic. Probably Dogaressa

Caterina was laid in the same grave, but there is no record of her

death. Hers was the harvest of a quiet eye, the satisfaction of the

simple life, and the reward of a good conscience.

Marco Corner’s successor was quite a different sort of man, but still

one likely to be amenable to the Lords of the Council, and not one to

make pretensions beyond the limits of the _Promissione_. When

the news of Doge Corner’s death reached him, Andrea Contarini was

peacefully tying up his vines in his estate at Gambarre on the Brenta.

Very many Venetian nobles had villas in that delectable district, and

the Contarini country-mansion was one of the most handsome. Directly he

was told that he had been elected Doge he declined the honour,--indeed

he twice refused,--having in mind the ominous prediction of a Syrian

dervish, who had warned him:--“If thou ever become Doge of Venice

untold disasters will fall upon her!”

The Electors would take no refusal and warned Contarini that he laid

himself open to the confiscation of all his property, and to a sentence

of banishment for life, both for himself and for his family. He

cared very little for public life: he took as his motto the Venetian

proverb:--“_Zocoli, brocoli, capelo, e poco cervelo_”--“Slippers,

gardening, and a night-cap, with nothing to worry about!” He came

however of a ruling family, one of the “Apostolic” twelve, just one

hundred years after his ancestor, Doge Giacomo Contarini had upborne

his name and his City nobly.

Doge Andrea Contarini’s _dogado_ was marked by restrictions at

home and troubles abroad. His _Promissione_ was, perhaps, the most

tyrannical of any required of a Doge. He and his family were expressly

forbidden gifts of every kind. Neither he nor the Dogaressa (whose name

has not been recorded), nor any of their children, were allowed to

possess land and property of any kind in the neighbourhood of Treviso,

Padua and Ferrara: and this was a personal hit, for it was just in

those districts that the Contarini family had interests. The Dogaressa

was further denied liberty of action in various small ways, and every

good work she proposed required the explicit sanction of the Council

before she could carry it out. Abroad the interests of the Republic

were seriously jeopardised; her bitter rival Genoa was preparing to

attack her, and peace-loving Doge Contarini had to lay aside his

implements of husbandry and take in hand his sword.

“Arms and the Man”--was true of Venetian tactics, for two famous

captains of her ships and her men came to the front to direct her

warlike progress--Carlo Zeno and Vettor Pisani. Success and failure

in turn followed Saint Mark’s banner, but the soothsayer’s words came

true, for disaster settled down upon Venice, what time Andrea Contarini

was Doge. Still his sun went down with shouts of victory from Chioggia,

where he and his captains and his men crushed the enemy effectually. He

was buried in the Augustinian church of San Stefano and his tomb bears

the brief epitaph:--“_MCCCLXVII Dux creatus: MCCCLXXXII in Cœlum

sublatus_.”

Under the Dogaressa the _gentildonne_ of Venice, headed by Donne

Anna Falier, Francesca Bragadini, Margherita Michieli, and Marliana

Bembo,--“Good angels of love and pity,” they were called,--organised

special ministrations for the benefit of the wounded in the war, the

widows of the fallen, and the fatherless children. They were inspired

by the same patriotic spirit, which had been voiced by the valiant Doge

himself, “All for Venice--I will not see her Palaces again until she is

victorious!”

What a curiously different saying was that of Doge Contarini’s

successor, Michele Morosini:--“What matters,” said he, “the fall of

Venice, so long as I am strong!” He was a mean fellow and a miser, a

disgrace to the noble name he bore, but, happily for Venice, he held

the _dogado_ no more than three months. He was one of the twenty

thousand Venetians who perished in the plague, and no one regretted

him. His Consort was Donna Cristina Condulmiero. The Condulmieri were

merchants of woollen-cloth, refugees from Pavia: they lived in the

Campo Santa Lucia.

The last Doge of the century was Antonio Venier. The Venieri ranked

with the Cappelli, Loredani, Malipieri, and the remainder of the

twenty families in the second class of Nobles: their names having

been enrolled by the “_Serrar del Consiglio_” in the “Libro

d’Oro” of 1289. One special proviso was attached to the continuance

of their order:--every child had to be registered within three months

of birth, or he or she forfeited rank and inheritance. Nevertheless,

the Venieri went back to the eleventh century when their forebears

settled at Chioggia. Doge Antonio Venier was urbane if austere,

moral if gracious, and, in character and personality, as unlike

his selfish unpatriotic predecessor as could well be imagined. He

was, by his liberal-mindedness, an illustration of the Venetian

proverb:--“_Tedeschi in la stala, Francesci in cusina, Spagnoli in la

camera, Venetiane in casa!_” His title of “_Magnifico_” he well

deserved, for no more magnanimous Doge ever wore the Ducal bonnet.

The last eighteen years of the century were as peaceful and as

uneventful as any like period in Venetian history: a wide contrast

to the pushful times of Doge Pietro Gradenigo. We might write of his

_dogado_ as of:--

“Roses! roses! all the way

With wild myrtle mixed like mad.”

There was however a thorn, and a very sharp one too, in Antonio

Venier’s career; it was one which sprang out of his own branch of

the family tree. Alvise, or Luigi, his eldest son, was if not a

ne’er-do-weel, a very wild sort of lad. Probably the serenity of the

life at the Ducal Palace palled upon the youth, who sought relief in

romantic attachments. Among his escapades was one, in company with

his friend, Marco Loredan, which compromised the fair fame of Madonna

Felicita, the wife of Messir Giovanni dalle Boccole--a rosebud and a

thorn!

[Illustration: FESTA CAMPESTRE ON THE BANKS OF THE BRENTA.

Bonifazio di Pitati.

BRERA, MILAN.]

Messir dalle Boccole discovered the intrigue and watched his

opportunity for chastisement, but the gay Lotharios anticipated his

purpose and in a moment of peculiar sportiveness,--it was at midnight,

11th June 1388,--they stuck up, over Messir dalle Boccole’s front door

a Phallic symbol, and scribbled upon the lintel some opprobrious words.

Such an insult was intolerable, and, as the culprits did nothing to

conceal their identity, nor make amends, dalle Boccole complained of

their conduct to their respective fathers. How Marco’s father acted we

know not, but Doge Venier visited his son’s offence with the severity

of a Brutus. The lad was put on his trial before the _Signori delle

Notti_,--the Police Court of Venice,--a fine was imposed of one

hundred lire, and two months’ imprisonment in the _Pozzi_,--where

only political prisoners were confined. “Horrible, dark, damp cells,

that would make the saddest life in the free light and air seem bright

and desirable,” so wrote George Eliot in 1860.

In this terrible place of confinement, with a steady depth of two feet

of stagnant putrid water, the only dry rest his hard bench, which

did duty for table and for bed, poor young Alvise lost heart and

health. He pleaded desperately with his father to release him from

his terrors and his infirmities, but the Doge gave no reply and made

no sign. He was, he plumed himself the impersonation of all that was

just, honourable, and unimpeachable in Venice, and, not for his own

offspring, could he suffer any relaxation of the sentence. His son had

transgressed the law, he must abide the consequences, so he ruled.

And the consequences, in spite of his mother, the Dogaressa Agnese’s

impassioned intercessions, were that the young man, left to his fate,

died miserably in the filthy Gehenna, in the springtide of 1388.

This was the parental justice of the urbane and gracious Antonio

Venier, but the “thorn” pierced his own hand and heart, and after two

years of useless remorse and self-accusation, the unnatural if judicial

Doge passed away in mental anguish in the Palazzo Venier ai Gesiusti

near the Ponte dell’ Acqua-vita.

* * * * *

There is quite a touching little story which concerns the burial of

poor young Alvise Venier. The sister who loved him best, Antonia, was

so greatly distressed by her father’s attitude that she professed

herself a Canoness of San Zaccaria, and, when her brother’s dead body

was refused decent burial by the Doge, she obtained possession of

it and carried it away from the foul Casa degli Spiriti,--where all

the dead rest before their final course to San Michele,--the common

cemetery,--and placed it reverently in an unoccupied piece of land of

the _fondamento_ of Cannaregio, the most distant _sestiere_

from the Ducal Palace. Directly the Doge was dead she put into

effect a resolution she had made,--after earnest prayer to St Mary,

St Giustina, and the good Bishop Lodovico, her patron,--to build a

church and a Canonica, and dedicate them in the name of her brother as

Sant’ Alvise. In the crypt she buried him and, by her will, directed

that her own dead body should be laid beside his. Alas the _Orto

Botanico_, where,--when not beset by picnic parties of bird-lovers

at the neighbouring aviaries of St Giobbe,--devout Antonia Venier

meditated and prayed, and whence she watched her church arise, has lost

all traces of its original condition, it is now a torpedo factory!

Dogaressa Agnese, although her heart and brain were lacerated by pain

and sorrow, survived her Consort a few years, then, in 1411, she was

buried near his tomb with their daughter, Orsola, in the left transept

of the church of SS. Giovanni e Paolo.

Doge Antonio Venier died in the first year of the new century: it was

in January, when snow and ice coated _calle_ and _canale_--a white

shroud to cover the dead body of a century, pitted with blanes and

boils of private wrong and public turpitude.

Ring down the curtain and hide the traces of tragedy: maybe the next

scene will be a transformation! A plaintive echo of a voice--one of the

sweetest that ever sang upon the Lido of Venice, steals into our ears,

amid the muffled clang of all the _Campanili_ bells, and bids us

take heart of grace. It is fair Laura’s _innamorato_ who in his

“_Africa_” thus prophesies of Venice:--

“Our Sons shall live in days more bright and fair.

* * * * *

Then noble intellect and docile mind

Shall renovate the studies of mankind

The love of beauty and of truth the cult

Shall make life’s pilgrimage less difficult.”

CHAPTER V

I

“LA SERENISSIMA DOGARESSA DI VENEZIA”--“the Most Serene Duchess of

Venice”--attained her highest dignity and splendour in the attractive

personality of Signora Marina Galina da Santa Marina--the Consort of

Doge Michele Steno. The reality of the “First Lady of Venice” had

become more and more emphatic as each gracious wearer of the smaller

_Corno_ had made her solemn Entry into the City.

The ancient family of Galina, in 960, founded the Church and Monastery

of San Felice, on the Campo of San Felice, a little way back from the

Grand Canal. They belonged to the third division of the first grade of

nobles, immediately after the “Apostolic” twelve and the “Evangelistic”

four, and were among the ten families of considerable importance

anterior to the _Serrar del Consiglio_ of 1289. The termination of the

name “da Santa Marina” was indicative of the _sestiere_ in which the

family originally dwelt: their church of Santa Marina, built in 1030,

was destroyed by fire in 1820.

The date of Donna Marina’s marriage with Messir Micheletto, or Michele,

Steno is nowhere recorded. His family was one of those ennobled after

the Chioggian War: they were neither wealthy nor influential. Messir

Giovanni Steno, his father, was a poor man, as men went in Venice, and

lived in a small _casa_ in the _sestiere_ of Santa Maria Zobenigo, upon

the neutral zone which separated the dwellings of the Castellani from

those of the Nicolotti. His mother was Madonna Lucia Lando, and her

family was equal in antiquity and distinction to that of her spouse--an

arrangement quite usual and conventional in Venice, where the different

grades of the aristocracy rarely intermarried.

Michele Steno’s parents were blessed with another son--the elder of

the two--Fantino, and three daughters, Franchescina, Donata, and

Cristina,--who became a cloistered nun in the Convent of San Lorenzo.

Messir Giovanni, with Messir Paolo Gradenigo, went on an embassy of

peace to Genoa, and, on his return in 1351, he executed a will, leaving

to his second son, Micheletto, one thousand gold ducats and the half of

his house property and other belongings.

Probably young Micheletto acquired some of the dare-devilry and

impetuosity, for which he and other young smarts were notorious, from

his early association with the rival factions of his _sestiere_.

Incessant insults, quarrels and commotions characterised their

mutual dealings, and their jests and oaths were indecent and

sacrilegious:--“_Corpo di Bacco!_” and “_Sangue di Dian!_” were no

less common in daily intercourse than “_Sangue di Dio!_” “_Corpo di

Crist!_” Youth, aping strident manhood, not unusually delights itself

in profanity and abuse. Marino Sanudo, who lived fifty years after Doge

Michele Steno’s death, states in his “History of Venice,” that as a

young man he was “poor but ambitious, ardent and astute.”

Sabellico has a note concerning the future Doge, and says, that, as

co-ambassador to King Pietro d’Arragona in 1350, when he was no more

than twenty-five years old, he displayed both tact and talent, and

concluded a treaty very much to the advantage of the Republic. Michele

Steno served the State with distinction and made himself an eligible

candidate for the highest offices: in 1375 he was chosen one of the

three Captains of the Council of Forty.

It certainly comes, however, with something of a shock to find him,

the precocious, daring, and romantic lover of women,--from Elizabetta,

his uncle Paolo’s attractive maid-servant to Aluycia Gradenigo, the

fascinating Consort of Count Marino Falier,--mounting the Ducal Throne,

which he had once stretched out his hand to profane! Forty-five years

have come and gone and the hot-headed youth has developed into the sage

septuagenarian. How true it is that the sowing of wild oats in young

days provides for the harvesting of ripe corn in old age! Michele Steno

and his Consort Marina could not have imagined that this consummation

of their lives was in the lap of Fortune. If time and opportunity had

modulated his character in tune with his environment, he was “still

remarkable” says Sanudo, “for strength of will and irascibility

of temper: a man of noble appearance and noted for the polish and

gallantry of his manners.” His election to the _dogado_ was

effected in November 1400, but his installation as Doge was postponed

to the following January. The usual ceremonies were duly celebrated

and a new feature was added--a panegyric of the Doge and Dogaressa

delivered in San Marco by Bishop Lionardo Delfino of Castello.

Indirectly his _Promissione_ suggests that his aggressive temperament

still caused men to look doubtfully at him. The legal titles of the

Doge and Dogaressa were depressed, the idea of personal sovereignty

was eliminated, and their Serenities were greeted as plain “_Messir

le Doxe_” and plain “_Signora la Dogaressa_.” This new designation,

however, was not altogether derogatory, for the great Patron Saint of

Venice was styled:--“_E stato galant’ uomo Messir San Marco!_”--“What

a brave fellow is ‘Mr’ Saint Mark!” Venetians were great sticklers

about titles: everybody liked to be addressed with ceremony and to have

assigned a rank higher than that actually held--but perhaps this was no

Venetian peculiarity, it is rather the natural, if persistent, egotism,

of all times and peoples.

In the “_Trionfo della Dogaressa di Venetia nel Secolo XV_,”--a

document of the period, in the Museo Civico,--is a full account of the

ceremonial observed and of the dresses worn at the solemn Entry of

the Dogaressa Marina. The Government issued an order to the different

_Fragilie_ to prepare for the Festival. Each Guild had a portion of

the Piazza and also of the Ducal Palace assigned for decoration with

tapestries, carpets, and banners, and was also required to furnish a

gala barge adorned with standards and decked with garlands, to form

part of the water escort for the _Bucintoro_, which was prepared for

the reception of the Dogaressa, her relatives and her suite.

Upon the day of the Entry the Doge, accompanied by a number of

Councillors, made a progress from the Ducal Palace to his private

residence to assist the Dogaressa in embarking upon her water progress.

She awaited her Consort in the principal reception room, where each

of the noble Company saluted her and received from her hands a very

beautifully embroidered purse of cloth of gold. Then, preceded by

State trumpeters and standard-bearers, and Grooms of the State to the

Doge, she passed down the stairway. Following her came sixty beauteous

damsels in superb costumes, and the ladies of her family in costly

robes with many jewels.

The dress of the Dogaressa was magnificent: she wore a robe of cloth

of gold fastened at the neck, with deep hanging sleeves, caught up by

gold brooches upon the shoulders, a girdle of gold cord jewelled, and

a mantle of stiff gold brocade embroidered with coloured silk like

the Doge’s. Her head-dress was a coif of lace under a cap of crimson

silk velvet raised in such a way as to support a miniature jewelled

Ducal _Corno_, and a thin gauze veil fell with her wealth of

unrestrained hair from under the _Corno_, over her shoulders.

A massive gold chain encircled her bust. Her shoes were of crimson

velvet. Her train, also of cloth of gold brocade, was borne by young

girls in white dresses, and crowned with fresh flowers.

At the Dogaressa’s side walked the wife of the High Chancellor,--the

first citizeness of Venice, a wise concession to popular

sentiment,--and the stately procession was brought up by the

Procurators of San Marco, Councillors of Honour, Senators and

Gentlemen, two and two, every one being in full state costume. Upon

the _Bucintoro_ her Serenity was placed in the Doge’s seat at the

bows. The Doge and his following meanwhile returned to the Ducal Palace

to await the arrival of his Consort. The progress of the Dogaressa

along the Grand Canal was a “Triumph.” The whole city had embarked upon

every available craft and everybody tossed enthusiastic greetings to

the stately, comely Dogaressa Marina as she passed along her glittering

way. The great vessel breasted untossed the lapping ripples of the

newly perfumed waters of the Canal, and made her way through floating

sprays of gaily coloured flowers, submerging, as she passed them, many

a daring gondolier and his heedless gala freight.

Arrived at the Piazzetta the august company landed, and, after being

led past the Basilica, made a stately progress all round the Piazza,

adorned as for a great Church festival and packed full of perspiring

people. All the beauty and fashion of the moment looked out of window

casements and from _altane_ roofs. Flowers and confetti were

showered upon her Serenity who marched with the utmost dignity under

the great Ducal umbrella of State, supported by the high officials of

the Government. At the grand portal of San Marco the Dogaressa was

received by the whole of the Chapter in gorgeous vestments, bearing

lighted candles in great silver-gilt candelabra, and the principal

gold crucifix, the while acolytes tossed their silver censers high.

Sprinkled with holy water her Serenity stood reverently whilst the

rector recited with her the following liturgy:--

LET US PRAY.

O Lord, preserve Thine handmaiden, our Dogaressa.

_My trust, O God, is in Thee._

Send her help from the Sanctuary, O Lord.

_And strengthen her out of Sion._

Let no foe approach her.

_And let not the son of wickedness come near to hurt her._

Grant peace in thy borders.

_And abundance in thy palaces._

O Lord, hear my prayer:

_And let my cry come unto Thee._

The Lord be with you:

_And with thy Spirit:_

LET US PRAY.

“We beseech Thee, Almighty God, that this Thy servant, our

Duchess, may be instructed and comforted by Thy wisdom and ever

remain true to Thy Holy Church, Through Christ our Lord, Amen.”

“O God, whose providence never faileth in the ordering of human

affairs we pray Thee to extend Thy ineffable loving-kindness

to our prayer, that as Queen Esther, the chosen servant of

Thy ancient people, caused the sceptre of King Ahasuerus, her

consort, to rule wisely, so this Thy Servant, our Duchess, the

chosen of Thy Christian people, may do everything according

to Thy will, so that she may please Thee in everything and,

inspired by Thee, may with her whole heart, exercise her high

office to Thy glory and to the welfare of us Thy Servants,

through Christ our Lord. Amen.”

Then “Te Deum” was solemnly sung in the open air, the Dogaressa

standing with her face to the people. The clergy next led the imposing

procession up the central passage of the basilica and placed the

Dogaressa ceremoniously upon the Doge’s throne by the High Altar,

where seated she bestowed her thanks and many gold ducats upon the

ecclesiastical dignitaries.

The State Chancellor now approached, and bowing low, addressed

Dogaressa Marina as follows:--

“Most Serene Duchess, I am about to administer to you the Oath of

Allegiance to the government of the Serene Republic of Venice. Will you

promise to observe and maintain it intact?”

“I will do so most assuredly,” she replied.

The procession being re-formed the Dogaressa was conducted to the

Ducal Palace, where, on ascending the grand staircase, she was met by

a deputation of Masters of the _Fragilie_ who invited her to take

her seat at a table furnished with sweetmeats in golden baskets and

red wine in silver cups; and whereat officials of the Guild were in

attendance. Acknowledging their salutations graciously she replied:

“_gran mercè non se sentimo_.”

Proceeding on her way the Dogaressa, with her escort of noble lords,

chamberlains, and gentlewomen, passed through all the State rooms of

the Palace, and entered the _Sala dei Pioveghi_ where she took her

seat upon the Doge’s throne and gave attention to the following solemn

address by the High Chancellor:--“Your Serenity has deigned to come to

this place which will be your home as long as you remain Dogaressa of

Venice. Should you die, here your body will lie in State for three

days before it is consigned to the tomb.”

To which very lugubrious oration the Dogaressa meekly replied:--“I am

quite content to abide by what you say so far as it may please the

Majesty of God.” Then, rising, she passed on once more, and entered the

_Sala del Gran Consiglio_, where she was placed with much ceremony

upon the great Throne of the Doge,--whence extending her hand everybody

in the Presence advanced to kiss it.

These solemnities being accomplished her Serenity was conducted to

the Presence Chamber, there she was greeted by the Doge and his two

Councillors of State, and then she retired to her private apartments.

The public festivities in celebration of the Induction and Proclamation

of the Dogaressa continued for three days. She presided at banquets

offered to the noblewomen, the wives of foreign ambassadors, and the

wives and daughters of the more prominent citizens. Sports of all kinds

and tournaments were held in the Piazza in presence of the Doge and

Dogaressa, and upon the Grand Canal were fêtes and serenades. Indeed

for a whole twelvemonth Venice kept holiday and witnessed a succession

of splendid pageants.

The _dogado_ of Michelo Steno and Marina Galina Steno was distinguished

in many ways. First of all, and by way of leaving his mark upon Venice,

in 1400, he caused the ceiling of the great Council Chamber of the

Ducal Palace,--which its architect, Calendario, who was implicated

in the conspiracy of Doge Marino Falier, had partly built, and where

Guariento painted his “Paradise” walls,--to be covered with golden

stars--the reflex of his name “Steno”--“Stellifer.” In the arena

of arms, Genoa, Verona, Padua, and Friuli were humbled and the King

of Hungary was routed. Carlo Zeno, the great _Condottiere_, led the

victorious Venetians against the two first cities; but the Doge in

person gained laurels at Padua and Friuli. Quaint ceremonies followed

the defeat of the four cities, for forty nobles from each,--dressed

respectively in red, white, purple, and green, came and made obeisance

to Venice in the persons of the Doge and Dogaressa seated upon thrones

set up in the Piazza. Each deputation laid at their Serenities’ feet

the keys and the banner of their city, and, at the same time, craved

the consideration and protection of the Republic.

Great rejoicings accompanied these demonstrations of fealty wherein

the _Fragilie_ took an active and splendidly organised part. Always

under the patronage of the Dogaressas, the various crafts had, through

one hundred and fifty years of progressive industry, attained both

perfection in the details of their several interests, and also a

dominant position in the social economy of the State. At the same time

Literature was reaching out towards distinction and the Fine Arts were

starting upon their pageant of renown. Truly the first decade of the

fifteenth century was pregnant with great issues and great events, it

was the hour before the glorious noontide of expectation--“_Venetia

riccha, saggia, e signorila_,”--“Venice, rich, wise and gentle-born.”

[Illustration: L’INNAMORATO CON “LA NINFA.” ARIOSTO’S

CANZONE. “BIRENO E OLIMPIA.”

FROM A PRINT. 1560.

Habiti Delle Donne.“--G. Franco.]

An obvious and visible token of the opulent greatness of the new

century was the foundation of the famous “_Compagnia della Calza_,”

directly under the auspices of the stylish Doge and fashionable

Dogaressa, old folks as they really were. This remarkable Society

took its rise at the period of the pageants held during the first

year of Doge Steno’s rule. The designation “_Calza_” was quite an

arbitrary choice for the purview of the _Compagnia_ had regard to all

and every detail of dress and manner. It was first entitled “_della

Berretta_,”--“Company of the Cap,” but the woven silken or worsted

garment which clung to and exhibited the whole figure, was the emphatic

feature of the sumptuary modes--hence came “_Calza_,”--“Company of the

Tights.”

The society or union consisted of a number of clubs of young men--gay,

rich and physically fit. The officers of the _Compagnia_ consisted

of a Prior or chief,--who went about in a gorgeous costume of cloth

of gold,--two Councillors, treasurer, chaplain, painter, sculptor,

architect, poet, annalist, and a notary. The _Compagnia_ consisted of

clubs, and each club bore a distinguishing name. _Immortali_, _Reali_,

_Perpetui_, _Semprevivi_, _Pavoni_, _Ortolani_, etc., etc.,--there were

forty of them. Every member wore striped silk tights, embroidered in

gold and coloured silks with pearls and gems: each club had its special

arrangement of stripes.

Their doublets of silk velvet embroidered with gold, fitted close to

the body, and bore the badge of the particular club. They had slashed

sleeves through which puffings of fine white linen shirts were pulled.

Upon their shoulders they wore short cloaks of cloth of gold or crimson

damask velvet, lined with choice fur. Their flowing locks of hair were

restrained under jaunty little caps of red or black silk or cloth,

with a handsome jewel at the side and a heron’s feather. Their pointed

shoes were of fine red leather pierced at the toes and adorned with

gold and pearls. Waist-belts of leather, jewelled and embroidered, with

beautiful _scarcelle_, or pouches, at the side, a golden chain

bearing a jewelled pendant, and rings on the fingers completed the

superb costumes.

Women associates were freely admitted, upon the hems of whose tight

fitting silken petticoats, was embroidered in gold, the word “_Calza_”;

foreigners also were admitted to honorary membership. The _gentildonne_

wore long sleeves,--lined with fur, and beautifully worked cinctures of

gold and embroidery: their hair was arranged in plaits and rolled under

golden nets, and their feet were shod in jewelled golden shoes. Their

fine gold chains of interlaced and jewelled rings encircled throats and

breasts.

The purpose of the “_Compagnia della Calza_” was however not

merely the wearing of fine clothes, but the direction of State

pageants, the reception of foreign princes and ambassadors, the

performance of spectacular games and plays, and attendance at solemn

Ecclesiastical functions. They also assisted at weddings, birthdays,

baptisms, and funerals, and acted as elegant and audacious State

masters of ceremonies in general.

With enthusiasm, each Maundy-Thursday, the gay young fellows entered

the annual _Caccia del Tori_, which had originated after the first

defeat of Friuli in 1164. Three other dates were added,--Santa Marta’s

day, the first Monday in September, and the first in October, and the

“rings” were on the Lido and in the Piazza. Later on every _campi_

had its _Caccia_, and, degenerating as such festivals usually do, the

places of the _gentildonne_ were taken by courtesans dressed, masked,

and mannered _à l’ outrance_.

“_Con atti, adorni assai, polite e belle,

Le Donne vedi andar, con tal maniera

E con la fresca ziera.

Che ’l par, che le vegna del Paradiso!_”

The love of sumptuous dress gave a grand impetus to Venetian trade,

but it led of course to many corruptions and exaggerations,--one of

these was the wearing of enormously high pattens--_zilve_, they were

called. The condition of the _calli_ unfortunately required some such

protection from mud and dirt, but women went about on shoe-stilts of

poplar wood and leather which effectively dwarfed the slim tall figures

of the men. At last an edict was issued which forbade this absurd

fashion, especially in the case of pregnant women:--“_filios abortivos

in perditione corporis et animæ suæ_.” This fashion, by the way, led

to many ludicrous situations, for many a gallant admirer of a _calle_

beauty, tall, commanding and superfine,--discovered her in her boudoir

reduced to natural if disappointing dimensions, and forthwith declined

her charms, and made a not too dignified exit!

The splendid _dogado_ of Michele Steno, continued for twelve years:

he died early in the year 1413, at the great age of eighty-four. His

obsequies were consonant with his fame, and after the excision of his

bowels and the embalming of his body, he was kept many days in State

with a cloth of gold pall over him and burning torches of pinewood

resin beside him in the old church of Santa Marina. Over his tomb were

hung the keys of Padua, now in the _Seminario Patriachale_, and the

marble sarcophagus had carved reliefs and an epitaph “_amator justitiæ

pacis et ubertatis_.” He left behind him the finest stable of horses in

Venice and the cleverest stand of falcons, and, beside and beyond these

treasures, a disconsolate widow.

Seven years after her Coronation Dogaressa Marina, suffering from

plague and expecting death made a will whereby she bequeathed fifty

gold ducats to poor criminals, awaiting execution, six gold ducats to a

monk of San Stefano, who preached to her in the Palace, for prayers for

the repose of her soul. To the Rector of Santa Maria Zobenigo, Nicolo

Fusolo, a velvet robe out of which to make a cope, and three hundred

gold ducats, a gold chalice, a cross, a surplice, and other ornaments

necessary for the sacerdotal office. All of these objects the worthy

priest was to use during his lifetime, and then they were to be the

property of the monks of San Domenigo.

The devout testator however recovered from her illness and in the

_Archivio Notarile_ is preserved a second will, dated 25th August 1420,

seven years after the demise of her Consort, to whom she erected the

superb marble monument, now, unhappily destroyed. The figure of the

Doge was placed above a marble urn embellished with a rich _intaglio_

frieze in which was the bust of the Dogaressa in mosaic. After the

funeral she entered the Convent of Sant’ Andrea, upon the lonely

_Campo_ of that name, far away from the gorgeous tumultuous scenes of

her reign in the Ducal Palace. In her second will Dogaressa Marina

directs that she shall be buried, vested in a nun’s habit, in the

cemetery of the Convent, and she leaves twenty-five gold ducats to

cover all expenses. Upon her gravestone is the following inscription:--

“_Hic jacet corpus Serenissimæ D. Marina, Uxoris Q. Sereniss.

et Excellentiss. Princeps D. D. Michaelis Stenus, olim inclyti

Ducis Venetiarum, quæ obiit die 4 mensis Maii MCCCCXXII. Amina

cuius requiescat in Pace._”

This quiet ending to a splendid career is full of pathos. She, who had

been crowned Duchess of Venice amid circumstances more splendid than

any of her predecessors is laid without worldly honours in the simple

grave of a pious nun. No canopy is now over her save the free air,

no gorgeous tapestries surround her save the painted clouds and the

distant Alps, whilst the wide salty lagune is her carpet of estate.

II

Upon the death of Doge Michele Steno the choice of his successor fell

first upon Messir Paolo Giustiniani, the head of as famous a family

as any in Venetian story, but a family which had, strange to say,

never placed a representative upon the Ducal throne. The “Forty”

however reconsidered their vote, and because Messir Paolo was a poor

speaker they passed on the _Corno_ to Messir Tommaso Mocenigo. When

his election was in the balance Giustiniani spoke up warmly in the

Council:--“My Lords,” he said, “I thank God that you have nothing more

serious to lay to my charge. Messir Antonio Venier was no spokesman but

he came to the _dogado_ and found his tongue, so shall I!”

The family of Mocenigo came from Treviso. Ser. Giovanni Moceni was

among the earliest councillors of the infant Republic at the end of

the eleventh century. The Mocenighi were enrolled in the “_Libro

d’Oro_” of 1289, in the fourth division of the first grade of nobles.

Messir Tommaso’s spouse was a Cappello, of equal rank to himself, but

her Christian name is not recorded and there is no account of her

coronation or her death.

Anyhow the pageants, which celebrated Doge Tommaso Mocenigo’s election

were perhaps the most splendid of any ever witnessed in proud, wealthy

and fashionable Venice. Twenty foreign princes and ambassadors sat

in the Ducal tribune, eighty thousand citizens and strangers packed

themselves in the colonnades of the Piazza, at the windows of the

Piazza were hundreds of noble gentlewomen and the prizes in the

_Giostre_,--wherein the Marquises of Mantua and Ferrara took

part,--were burnished silver helmets encrusted with precious stones,

and costly jewelled golden collars. Everybody of note wore heavy cloth

of gold or rich silver brocade. Never before had such a wealth of

pearls and gems been displayed even in superlatively modish Venice.

Every craftsman and craftswoman was kept hard at work making things of

beauty and of value in honour of their new patroness.

In addition to the State tournaments and pageants the Guild of

Goldsmiths,--the richest trade corporation in Europe, and always

specially under the patronage of the Dogaressa--arranged and dressed a

_Balordo_--spectacle or revel,--wherein a cavalcade of knightly

figures rode a quadrille arrayed in scarlet velvet,--horses as

well,--and wearing chains of gold and ropes of pearls. The fabulous

wealth of Venice was never so strikingly displayed and this prodigality

added immeasurably to her fame and power. Peace was assured for

no State could dare to try conclusions with her, knowing her vast

resources.

Her population exceeded two hundred thousand,--one thousand being men

of noble rank, each worth from seventy to four thousand gold ducats

per annum. The State revenues figured at one million and a half gold

ducats. The navy consisted of three hundred sea-going armed vessels

manned by eight thousand sailors. Three thousand lighter vessels had

trained crews of seventeen thousand men and the arsenal and dockyard

hands numbered eleven thousand. Well was it said:--“_El Mar Xe ’l

fachin de la Terra!_”--“The Sea is servant of the Land!”

Doge Tommaso Mocenigo proved himself to be the man of the hour.

“Venetian of the Venetians, Venice and Venice only was his one and only

love, indeed he carried his devotion so far that he narrowed his views

of her, to the proportions of a “little Venice” in territory. With an

iron will he bent all others to his behests, and, as a past-master in

strategy, he undermined all opposition. He has come down to us as “one

of the wisest and noblest rulers of the Venetian Republic,” the ninth

“Grand” Doge of Venice.

His death-bed was the scene of a remarkable demonstration of his

strength of character and of his solicitude for the welfare of Venice.

He sent for the principal members of the Council of Forty, and, when

they were assembled, he pronounced a valedictory address wherein he

summed up statistically the condition of the State, enlarged upon his

own share in its stability, and expressed his wishes with respect to

the choice of his successor and the maintenance of his ideals.

There were seven candidates for the succession and the dying

Doge succinctly reviewed the qualifications, or the reverse, of

each:--“Marmo Caravello is too old, Cavaliere Bermbo limps and is blind

of an eye, Lionardo Mocenigo is my brother after the flesh, Antonio

Contarini has too many children and his wife still brings him one every

year, Pietro Loredano is a proud man and too young, Gianbattista Badoer

is Captain-General, let him be satisfied, and Francesco Foscari is an

ambitious man who sets fire to things but is careful not to burn his

own fingers. I pray you my Lords not to entertain his candidature,

for I am convinced, that if you elect him Doge, he will bring untold

disasters upon our beloved city.”

The Doge died in 1423 and his tomb is in the church of SS. Giovanni

e Paolo with the inscription “_Huomo oltre modo desideroso della

Pace_.” The effigy, sculptured upon the monument represents very

exactly what Tommaso Mocenigo must have looked like in life--a noble

form, comely features, the curve of the lip indicating masterfulness,

the great round eyes daring, the high arched brow and cheek

determination.

The week which followed the demise of Doge Tommaso Mocenigo was one

of deep anxiety on the part of all the candidates for the Ducal

office, probably none of them felt the strain more heavily than

Messir Francesco Foscari and his spouse Madonna Marina. The fact of

the late Doge’s animadversions roused their ambition and fired their

determination to prove by fortune of election the erroneousness of his

strictures.

Ten times in as many days the votes of the Council of Forty were cast

without result, a clear majority of two-thirds was required for a

constitutional decision. Apparently a policy of exhaustion was followed

until only two candidates were left in the contest, Pietro Loredano and

Francesco Foscari, and the latter and his wife were very hopeful of the

result. Advocates of the rivals in the Council spoke long and bitterly:

Pietro Orso was for Pietro Loredano,--Bernardo Pisani and Paolo Corner

for Francesco Foscari. Bulgaro Vetterino also took part in the debate

and denied that Foscari was too poor for the position--as was alleged.

He stated that his client stood with his family for no fewer than one

hundred and fifty thousand gold ducats.

At length Francesco Foscari received twenty-eight votes out of

the forty-one, and Captain-General Badoer, who also supported his

candidature, made the usual announcement--“This is your Doge”--to the

huge body of citizens in the Piazza. At once a tumultuous response was

made “_Sia! Sia!_”--“Agreed! Agreed!” and the first contested

Dogal election Venice had known ended in general satisfaction.

Francesco Foscari was the youngest of the seven candidates for the

Ducal Throne, aged just fifty-one. He came of a notable family and his

forebears had rendered yeoman service to the Serene Republic. They

belonged to Maestre but migrated to Rivoalto in the ninth century:

the Foscarini were a branch of the same family. Equal in rank to the

Mocenighi, Vernieri, and Malipieri, who had given Doges to Venice, they

reckoned many warriors and statesmen in their generations.

The new Doge was born in 1373: his father was Messir Nicolo Foscari

and he had two brothers--Donato and Marco. It was said they were

in somewhat straitened circumstances and lived away from Venice to

economise. Francesco however threw himself into political controversy

and obtained several important posts under Government: in 1407 he was

named chief of the “Forty.”

When a very young man, in 1395, he married Donna Maria, daughter

of Messir Andrea Priuli dal Banco: she bore him several sons and

daughters, but she died somewhere about the year 1414. Very little

has been recorded of her but Palazzi, who refers to the famous pack

of playing-cards at the Museo Civico with effigies of the earliest

Dogaressas reads upon the “Knave of Clubs”:--“The first wife of

Francesco Foscari, Doge of Venice, who whilst she was assisting at

the Coronation of the Dogaressa (Agnese Cappello) narrowly escaped

a thunderbolt which fell from heaven, but heaven never hurts the

guiltless.”

Messir Francesco Foscari’s young family needed a second mother and he

another helpmeet, accordingly, in 1415, wedding-bells again rang in a

new bride at the Casa Foscari. Donna Marina was the eldest daughter of

Messir Bartolommeo Nani a member of a family in the same category as

the Foscari. She became the mother of four sons and five daughters, but

most mysteriously they all died of the plague in 1425 and 1427, except

the second boy--Giacomo.

When his election was completed the new Doge determined that

nothing should be wanting to prove his nobility and the financial

resources at his command. At the same time the Lords of the Council,

knowing their man perfectly, added three new conditions to the

_Promissione_:--1st. The Doge was required to fund all his private

property with a reserve of twenty thousand gold ducats invested in

silver plate; 2nd. Each of the State servants was to receive from the

Doge two livery-suits per annum; and 3rd. His effigy and that of the

Dogaressa were not to appear upon the new coinage.

Her Serenity Dogaressa Marina Nani-Foscari made her Entry into Venice

and went to her Coronation attended by the most imposing procession

ever marshalled for the purpose. Her supporters were the Marquises of

Mantua and Ferrara, and among her train-bearers were scions of the

noble houses of Padua, Vicenza, Treviso, and Friuli,--it was a regal

pageant. The new _Sala del Gran Consiglio_ within the Ducal

Palace, with all its wealth of painting, gilding, carving, tapestry

and mosaic in all its fresh and unsullied glory--“the most magnificent

room in Europe,”--was opened by the Dogaressa that she might be crowned

therein with the minor jewelled _Corno_.

All Sovereigns and States gazed at Venice with amazement--at the moment

the supreme power of the world, the most splendid court on earth,

and the shining example of peace, honour and prosperity. Her proud

neighbour Florence sought her help, and cap in hand, her ambassadors,

Palla negli Strozzi and Giovanni de’ Medici, knelt humbly before Doge

Foscari. The King of Poland craved from the Doge and Dogaressa the

honour of standing sponsors for his heir, and princes from all round

entered the city in State and were regally entertained. The private

apartments of their Serenities were crowded with splendid offerings,

and the Pope bestowed his Pontifical blessing.

A dark side there was however to this glorious panorama. Intercourse

with the East introduced the seeds of pestilence, and in 1424 and 1427

cholera raged in every part of fair Venice, sixteen thousand and twenty

thousand deaths respectively made huge gaps in every family circle.

The Doge and Dogaressa, indifferent of their own security, mixed

freely with the stricken sufferers, and, by their efforts, the first

pest-house in Europe was established upon Santa Marina di Nazaret.

These dark clouds rolled away at last, and Venice was once more all

smiles and blushes; but upon the domestic horizon of the Doge’s

family appeared an evil meteor, small at first but soon to burst in

overwhelming calamity.

The tragedy of Giacomo Foscari is as well known as any among all the

affecting stories of Venice. The only survivor of a promising young

family of fourteen children, Giacomo was the one and only domestic

joy of his bereaved parents. Upon him they lavished all their

affection, upon him they fastened all their hopes. Gentle and loving

in disposition and possessed of talent and ambition, the lad grew to

manhood petted and pampered, in the artificial environment of the

Ducal Court. Skilled in all the exercises of the _Giostra_ and

approved in all the elegancies of the _Compagnia della Calza_, the

Doge’s son was the most eligible of all the prospective bridegrooms in

Venice. He had not long to wait, nor far to look, for his bride. By

the _Promissione_ of his father he was certainly limited in his

choice to Venetian maidens but that was of course no bar sinister to

matrimony, for no damsels were more lovely, more lively than the young

_gentildonne_ of the Piazza.

Lucrezia Contarini was out and away the most beautiful girl in all the

gay city of Venice. Her family was one of the very first--“Apostolic,”

her physical charms were of the healthiest, her mental attainments

the most exalted: indeed Giacomo and Lucrezia were an ideal couple,

and nothing but distinction and prosperity were prophesied of their

auspicious union. Her father gave his daughter a goodly dowry of

sixteen thousand gold ducats and one thousand more as a loan, and he

also provided a sumptuous marriage feast. Five palaces still exist to

prove the influence and high condition of the family. Lucrezia’s home

was the Palazzo Contarini degli Scrigni,--or Money-chests,--upon the

Grand Canal, called so because of the big iron safes full of treasures

of all kinds it contained.

The marriage was celebrated on 29th January 1441, and the nuptial

ceremonies and festivities were the most gorgeous ever seen in opulent

Venice. Upon the morning of the auspicious day Cavaliere Eustachio

Balbi, Chief of the _Compagnia della Calza_ and Master of the

Ceremonies, with eighteen young nobles sumptuously attired and

splendidly mounted,--their horses were caparisoned in silver brocade

of Alexandria, the most costly known,--assembled at the Balbi Palace

as the nuptial escort of the bride. With all the pride on earth the

glittering cavalcade, having crossed the Grand Canal by a bridge of

boats, curvetted through the narrow _calli_ and deployed upon the

Piazza, round which they galloped furiously, on their way to salute

the Doge and Dogaressa awaiting them in the State balcony of the Ducal

Palace. Then retracing their caracoling steps amid showers of kisses

and laurel wreaths thrown to and from admiring maidens at every window,

they recrossed the Canal and drew rein before the Contarini Palace.

Fair Lucrezia, in her flashing bridal-dress of white silk and silver

tissue and wearing, among many precious jewels, a high golden comb

set with enormous pearls, awaited her escort at the portal of the

Palace. She was supported by her sponsors the Procurators of San Marco,

and attended by sixty young noblewomen garbed in cloth of gold and

costly lace, each with her golden casket full of white carnations, the

Contarini emblem, to scatter before the bride.

The lovely procession--a pageant of fair girls and comely

youths--moved in stately grace to the Church of San Barnaba hard by,

where already the Doge and Dogaressa had been received by the clergy

and escorted to their thrones. Giacomo Foscari, the bridegroom, with

his supporters,--men of his house and young nobles of the Council,--all

in superb costumes, stood before the altar. He and his bride, her hand

in his, knelt in the centre of the prostrate congregation whilst the

nuptial Mass was sung.

Venetian weddings were the most magnificent in Europe, for the

citizens’ nuptials were as splendid as Royal marriages. There was a

strange blending of Orient mysticism and romance with the Western

spirit of progress and reality. One very quaint custom was the visit

of the bridegroom-elect and his best men to the house of the bride,

upon the eve of the marriage morn. Every door was barred, every window

and jalousie closed, save one far up the wall. A crazy ladder, all too

short, was left at hand, scaling which, with a fall or two assured, the

venturesome youth attained the open window-sill. Inside the house every

door was shut, but, running down the stairs, the young fellow drew back

the bolts of the great door and admitted his friends. Then, every room

door flew open, and, headed by the father and mother of the girl, the

family and the guests entered the reception-room. Bearing in his hand

a leg of mutton the happy groom approached the father, and, offering

it to him, said:--“See, your Excellency, take this bit of dead meat in

exchange for a bit which is alive, namely your daughter.” The happy

couple then knelt and received the parental blessing: a banquet and a

dance followed in due order.

Whether Giacomo Foscari went through all these old-world and

traditional observances we know not, but, after the nuptial Mass, the

Doge and Dogaressa returned to the Ducal Palace where a noble banquet

was spread before the Lords of the Council, the foreign ambassadors,

and the nobles of the Court and City. Meanwhile the “_Bucintoro_”

was steered in front of the Contarini Palace,--with many attendant

boats, both great and small, all gaily decked with banners and wedding

favours,--to convey the bride and bridegroom to the presence of their

Serenities. One hundred and fifty damsels of noble birth, all in festal

white and richly jewelled, with as many stylish young companions of

_La Calza_, accompanied the happy couple. At the Piazzetta an

equal company of the beautiful and the brave was in attendance to

escort the water-pageant into the Ducal Palace, and there, at the head

of the Great Staircase, the Doge and Dogaressa, in robes of State and

surrounded by the great officers of the Court, gave an affectionate

and dignified greeting to their son and daughter. A grand ball was

given and a rich collation and the night was far spent before the

happy, weary guests found their link-lighted way to their brilliantly

illuminated gondolas, and so home and to bed.

Lucrezia Contarini-Foscari’s trousseau was superb:--A robe of cloth

of gold and crimson velvet, lined with squirrel, and a train of white

satin brocade two yards long; a robe of cloth of gold and peacock blue

satin, the deep sleeves lined with ermine; a robe of cloth of gold and

green brocade with open sleeves of fine lace; and a fourth robe

of cloth of gold and yellow damask lined with ermine:--the four cost

Messir Contarini two thousand gold ducats!

[Illustration: A MARRIAGE RECEPTION.

FROM AN ENGRAVING AFTER TEODORO BERNARDO.

NATIONAL LIBRARY, PARIS.]

Accompanying these were four magnificent jewels for the hair with high

combs--one of rubies, another of emeralds, a third of diamonds and

the fourth, a huge Balax ruby--the four were valued at three thousand

eight hundred gold ducats. Fortunate Lucrezia’s coffer of jewels also

contained a necklace of diamonds and pearls, which had belonged to the

unfortunate Queen of Cyprus, Caterina Conaro; a superb shoulder strap

of diamonds and pearls en suite, and a range of gem rings--four of

large rubies, worth two thousand gold ducats. The rest of the trousseau

would require pages to enumerate, anyhow the bride of Giacomo Foscari

entered the palace,--purchased by his father, the Doge in 1428 from

the Giustiniani for twenty thousand gold ducats,--with four immense

_cassoni_ full of valuables!

Everything about the young couple promised human happiness of the

highest and the best, and all went well with Giacomo and Lucrezia

Foscari until, in the very midst of their gaiety and fame, a crushing

calamity befell them with a suddenness and an awfulness unspeakable. In

1445 Giacomo was accused before the Council of Ten of receiving bribes,

not only from men in Venice who sought social and political gains, but

also from Duke Filippo Maria Visconti of Milan--the best hated and

most feared of all the foreign sovereigns. This situation was created

by the extravagance of the young couple, but surely every excuse was

admissible: he, the petted child of parents who denied him nothing,

and she, whose head was turned by her almost fabulously wealthy

marriage. They were in heavy debt and how to meet their liabilities

(they dared not consult their parents) was the question.

On the 15th of February, a _Zenta_ or Commission, appointed to

examine into the charges, and Giacomo showed at once the weakness

of his character and of his case by precipitate flight to Trieste.

His chief accuser was the very Pietro Loredano who had lost the

_dogado_ to Francesco Foscari and had sworn to be avenged for his

defeat. It was a stunning blow to the old Doge and Dogaressa but they

maintained their dignity with the highest fortitude in face of the

declaration of the _Zenta_:--“Considering the base, disgraceful,

and abominable, excesses committed by Giacomo Foscari, son of our Lord

the Doge, against the honour and dignity of our State and Government,

it is resolved that he be condemned to exile, and the confiscation of

his goods in default.”

In vain the broken-hearted Dogaressa pleaded for her son,--her

only living child, but stern duty was the master of those Venetian

councillors, of human sympathy they had little, and the Doge forced

himself to side with them against his boy,--an heroic figure,

externally impassive inwardly a wreck. Other charges were preferred

against the absent Giacomo,--murder or accessory thereto included.

He was brought back to Venice to be tortured into a confession of

crimes of which he was wholly innocent, and then banished for life

to Candia. He made a last and painful appeal to his father, but the

broken-hearted old man spoke firmly in the bitterness of his soul.

“Go,” said he, “my son, my dearly loved son, go, and obey the commands

of your country and seek nothing more.”

As a last favour, however, his mother the Dogaressa, and his wife,

Lucrezia with her two little children were allowed to bid him

farewell in the Torricelli prison within the Ducal Palace. Never

was there a more affecting scene; poor Giacomo’s mutilated body and

distorted features terrified them, and both mother and wife were borne

fainting away. The wretched man sailed away to his place of exile,

but he survived his arrival only a few short months. Death was a

friend-in-need, and yet he had not needed to die so young, if Pietro

Loredano had not again interfered to delay the free pardon granted in

1457.

This Loredano was a devil in disguise; he even protested that the

sobs and tears and lamentations of the afflicted Doge and Dogaressa

indicated imbecility and unfitness for office, and he urged upon the

“Ten” the risk they ran of his Serenity summoning the “Forty” and

haling them for their harshness and barbarity before the Greater

Council. In a panic they hastened to demand the abdication of the Doge.

The Dogaressa sought the detractor of her husband and appealed to

him for pity, but he pushed her away and scandalously accused her of

unfaithfulness as spouse and of treason as Dogaressa!

When acquainted with the decree of the “Ten” the grand old man bowed

his proud white head, and with dignity exclaimed:--“I never for a

moment thought that my old age would prove injurious to Venice but

I yield to the decision of the Council” and then with full meaning

he addressed to Pietro Loredano who had the effrontery to be one of

those to convey the sentence of deprivation, he added, “Your malice

has driven me from the eminence to which I have been raised and which

I have maintained unsullied for thirty years.” Loredano made no reply

but upon that day’s page in his _priorista_ or diary, he wrote in

a crabbed hand “_’L ’la pagati_,”--“He has paid his debt.”

On 24th October 1457 the brave and noble old Doge and the faithful

and virtuous Dogaressa Marina bade farewell to the Ducal Palace and

sought the seclusion of their own palace at San Pantaleone. “Now,” said

he, “we shall have peace in our old age if no joy.” A pension of two

thousand gold ducats was accorded to the ex-Doge. All this brutality

and haste was apparently kept from the knowledge of the people with

whom the Doge and Dogaressa were highly popular, but directly the

facts became known a revolution was threatened and matters became so

serious that the “Forty” decreed that no man should name “the affair of

Francesco Foscari under pain of instant death.”

Francesco Foscari was a “Grand” Doge with respect to the length and

distinction of his reign, and also with respect to the dignity with

which he met and bore his heavy trials. Still in his time Venice lost

her foreign possessions and her fame as the greatest of European naval

powers. Too much attention was given to trivial matters of domestic

policy and too little to the imperial demands of a strong navy and a

forceful foreign policy.

III

The long _dogado_ of Francesco Foscari,--thirty-four years, the most

extended of any in the whole range of the one hundred and twenty Chief

of Magistrates of Venice,--in a sort of way paralysed the life of the

Court and the action of the Government. Doge Francesco abdicated at

the advanced age of eighty-four, and his _entourage_ and that of the

Dogaressa had grown old as well:--she was seventy-two. Youth, beauty

and gaiety at home were at a discount and the maintenance of the naval

and military services abroad were inefficient and decadent. The times

were worn out, and what enthusiasm remained in the hearts of nobles and

citizens went out to other men and other measures.

The advent of Doge Pasquale Malipiero was hailed with a feeling of

relief and a spirit of hopefulness. He was a man of gentle disposition

and noted for the consideration and urbanity of his character. He

was most scrupulous not in any way to derogate from the high esteem

accorded to his predecessor, nor to wound the susceptibilities of the

Dogaressa.

Two days after his abdication Francesco Foscari died of a broken heart

and Doge Malipiero was the first to offer Dogaressa Marina sympathy and

assistance. The State decreed a public funeral but she emphatically

refused to surrender the dead body of her husband. “No,” she said,

“posthumous honours are a mockery after official injustice; I will bury

my dead how and where I like.” Her strong and unforgiving attitude is

recorded by the pack of Playing-Cards, so often referred to in this

volume, upon the “Eight of Swords”:--“Nani, the second wife of Doge

Foscari, determined to vindicate the fair fame of her husband, by

burying him at her own expense and not at that of the State. Nothing is

more fierce than offended innocence.”

The Council of Ten expostulated with her and declared that, if she

refused the order of burial, her husband’s corpse would be taken away

by force. It was perfectly well understood however that this peremptory

action was influenced by abject fear of the consequences to the Lordly

Councillors should full State funeral rites not be accorded to the

remains of the beloved old Doge.

At length the Dogaressa yielded reluctantly but positively declined

to follow the usual custom and appear as chief mourner. A pompous

procession bore from the Foscari Palace to the “_Bucintoro_” the

dead ruler’s earthly casket which was steered through kneeling weeping

crowds afloat and on _rive_ to the Piazzetta and thence into the

choir of San Marco. The great bell of the basilica,--which had scarcely

ceased its clear, crisp emphatic clang announcing the succession of

the new Doge,--gave forth slow and muffled tones. In the middle of the

Piazza a halt was called and Messir Bernardo Giustiniani, the oldest

noble, holding aloft the sword of the deceased Doge pronounced a

funeral oration.

Upon the bier rested the jewelled _Corno_ and the Ducal State robes

which Pasquale Malipiero had so sympathetically laid aside whilst he

walked bare-headed immediately behind, clad in the purple of a simple

Lord of the Council. After the _Requiem_ the procession re-formed, and,

with the casket under its pall of cloth of gold placed under the Ducal

canopy, the “_Bucintoro_” carried all that remained of Doge Francesco

Foscari in stately silence to his last resting-place before the High

Altar of the Church of Santa Maria Gloriosa de’ Frari.

The following day the new Doge re-assumed the regalia of his office

and helped to prepare his Consort for her State Entry and Coronation.

In 1414 he had married the woman he loved,--Donna Giovanna,--daughter

of Messir Antonio Dandolo, above himself in station, for the Malipieri

were of an inferior grade of nobility to the “Apostolic” Dandoli.

26th January, 1457–1458, was the auspicious day chosen for the

Dogaressa’s ceremonial. The funereal cloths which had swathed the

“_Bucintoro_” were rent away and banners,--blazoned in gold and

colours,--and great swaying garlands of greenery transformed the

noble vessel into a gorgeous Argosy which, with the Dogaressa and her

attendant ladies and many maids of honour on board, swept gracefully

down the Grand Canal.

The ritual of the inauguration rites was similar to that arranged for

the Dogaressa Marina Galina-Steno, but the new First Lady of Venice

managed to project quite a personal feature into the proceedings.

As the patroness in particular of the printing-press and of the

lace-cushion and of the respective craftsmen and craftswomen these two

guilds were specially honoured. Palazzi, in “_La Virtu in Giuocco_”

records that Dogaressa Giovanna was “a princess of splendid physical

and mental gifts but possessed of no private fortune” ... in 1469

Giovanni Spira dedicated to her the first book ever printed in

Venice--“_Epistolæ ad Familiares_” of Cicero.

In that quaint pack of Playing-cards at the Museo Civico, the “Knight

(King) of Swords” bears an eulogy of Dogaressa Giovanna with a

wood-cut of a printing-office, and the following inscription:--“The

Art of Printing was introduced in Venice by the Dogaressa

Dandolo-Malipiero--the Press has made the name Dandolo immortal.”

This is perhaps a piece of special pleading but, inasmuch as Dogaressa

Giovanna Dandolo-Malipiero was a woman of culture and the friend of

men of letters, her patronage of the earliest printers undoubtedly

gave the premier place to Venice in the history of printing. Missals,

Service-books and other books, used in the churches, were printed from

wooden blocks as early as 1441 by unknown craftsmen. With Giovanni

da Spira (of Speyer) came to Venice his brother Wendelin, and they

were joined by a French engraver of coins,--Nicolo Jenson of Tours,

who turned his attention to cutting wooden letters and making wooden

blocks. Their family of pupils and followers, between 1470–1500,

numbered no fewer than one hundred and fifty-five printers of note.

Of early books printed in Venice, four were produced in 1469,--all

with grateful allusions to the Dogaressa,--sixteen in 1479, and

ninety-eight in 1489:--they were chiefly Classics, Bibles, and Morals.

In 1480 appeared the first illustrated book the world had seen in print

“_Hypnerotomachia_”--“The Dream of Love.” Venice thenceforward

became and, remained for two hundred years, the greatest of all centres

for books, printers, and publishers.

As the patroness of Venetian lace-workers Dogaressa Giovanna

Dandolo-Malipiero made for herself unquestionable renown. She knew,

of course, by heart the fascinating story of Bella di Giovan d’Isola

di San Giorgio in Alga, and probably she was herself a skilful artist

in the exquisite craft. Burano was the earliest metropolis of the

_Merletti a Piombini_--the offspring of fine thread and beaded

bobbins,--and the “_Buranelle_,” or lace girls of Burano were

as famous then as now for their manipulative talent. The gracious

Dogaressa gathered around her a number of young gentlewomen and

encouraged them to twist and knot the delicate threads. Perhaps they

called to mind the tradition of the heroines of Aquileia, for the early

Burano lace is as fine and as strong as the interlaced locks of hair,

which made such stout hawsers for the catapults in that famous siege.

Just as the bewitching Bella was inspired to imitate a beautiful

piece of coral seaweed so the clever lace-workers of Burano went to

Nature for their models. Already, in the fourteenth century, they

had noted the swirling whirlpools of the gondolier’s pole and the

rippling eddies of the tide on the steps of the _rivi_; and had

observed the rolling clouds above their heads and the distant indented

Dolomites beyond the Lagune; and had produced their _opus araneum_ or

_punto-in-aria_,--openwork. Then followed quite naturally, imitations

of moving objects around them--the sailors, the cordage, and the nets

of fishing vessels, with bits of flotsam and jetsam, shells, seaweed

and fish scales, evolving _punto-a-reticelli_,--network.

Very easily foliage and flowers of Venetian gardens prompted lace

ideas; hence we have _punto-a-folgiami_,--spraywork. Next, fish

in ships’ holds or in crystal bowls, birds on wing and insects,

appeared in twisted thread as _punto-a-groppo_,--raised work; and

fabled animals, domestic pets, and arabesques formed another range of

subjects,--_punto-a-maglia_,--figure work. Effigies in Church, people

on Piazza, faces on the Rialto, and many other human models came out

of leaded bobbins as _punto-a-quadra_ and _punto-a-burato_,--portrait

work, and so forth.

Dogaressa Giovanna must have been a woman of marked erudition and

consummate taste to combine two such dissimilar avocations as printing

and lace-making in her heart’s interest. Her patronage of Burano and

its craft directly interested the votaries of fashion everywhere, and

the women of all lands should ever hold her in high estimation. Burano

became the mother of Honiton, of Valenciennes and Alençon, of Mechlin

and Brussels, and the delicate meshes of her lace-work have enriched

woman’s realm with the most decorative attribute it possesses.

Doge Pasquale Malipiero died in 1462 and was buried in the great

church of SS. Giovanni e Paolo, in the left aisle, where his

Florentine sarcophagus may still be seen. With him was laid all that

remained of noble Dogaressa Giovanna, but the date of her death is

not recorded--“Giovanna, the Queen of Lace, the Empress of Printing.”

In the Museo Civico is a medal which has, on the obverse, the bust

of Doge Malipiero, and on the reverse that of Dogaressa Giovanna,

with the legend:--“_Inclite Johanne ... Alme ... Urbis ... Venatiar

... Ducise_.” She wears the _Corno_ with an ample coif or veil which

hides somewhat the marks of age: the face is thin, the cheeks hollow,

the forehead high, and the eyes somewhat sunken. The medal is very

delicately chiselled and is said to have been the work of Pietro

Guidizzaro,--a noted medallist of the fifteenth century. In the

Berlin Museum is another medal with a similarly incised portrait of

Dogaressa Giovanna, but in place of that of the Doge, her husband, are

represented two beauteous Venetian maidens,--representing “Printing”

and “Lace-making,”--with the legend:--“_Vincit ... Honia ... Bona ...

Volontas_.”

Cristoforo Moro and his Consort Cristina Sanudo mounted the Dogal

throne in 1462. He was an ill-conditioned sort of man, very

parsimonious but in a way very devout, and as we say now, an advocate

of “peace at any price.” His personal appearance was hardly in his

favour,--for he was short of stature, very stout, and his features were

marred by a decided squint. The Mori belonged to the least honourable

grade of nobility, having purchased their title after the war in Candia

for one hundred thousand gold ducats. They also bought the Palazzo

Lin, the property of an extinct Venetian family upon the Grand Canal,

and henceforth gave themselves all the airs and graces of hereditary

nobles. Their good conceit of themselves was quite effective and quite

in the order of Venetian social convention.

The Dogaressa Cristina was the daughter of Messir Lionardo Sanudo

and Madonna Barbara Memo his wife; her marriage was celebrated in

1412. Once more the Venetians had the spectacle of a patriarchal

couple installed in the Ducal Palace. Notwithstanding her age the new

Dogaressa went through all the ceremonies of her Entry and Coronation

with dignity and charm. “She was a woman,” Marino Sanudo, her nephew

the historian says, “of a remarkably gentle disposition and held in

reverence for her works of charity.”

Palazzi wrote of her in his “_Fasti Ducales_” that “she was an

example to other gentlewomen in her care of the poor.” Upon the “Knave

of Swords” in the pack of Cards at the Museo Civico is the following

inscription:--“Sanuta, wife of Cristoforo Moro, Doge of Venice, raised

her voice to Heaven only for the good of the people, the gift of

Heaven, and the Seal of justice.”

A few notable events occurred during the reign of Doge Cristoforo

Moro. His _Promissione_, like its forerunners, cut down the Ducal

prerogatives and also severed the last strand of the coil which feebly

held the rights of the people. The title of the Republic passed from

“_Comune Venetiarum_” to “_Dominium_, or _Signoria Venetiarum_.”

War with Friuli broke out afresh and the Doge shrank from the

responsibilities of leadership until twitted by _Condottiere_ Vettor

Cappello:--“Have,” said he, “my lord less care for thy skin and more

for thine honour!” The Venetians had gradually lapsed into a state of

false security: their fame on land and sea made them confident that

Venetian supremacy was assured. No new battleships were laid down and

the manning and armament of the fleet were neglected until, in 1469,

the “Mistress of the Seas” received a stunning awakening--the Turks

wrested from her for ever her superiority afloat.

In the world of craft and fashion Dogaressa Cristina was the

recognised patroness and leader, but skill and beauty yielded to

cheapness and frivolity. She set her face against the introduction

of foreign-made goods and insisted upon the craftsmen improving both

the materials and the manner of their industries. The Church, in the

person of Frate Mauro Lapi, of the Frari monastery, appealed to her

to redress the effeminacy of young courtiers in the wearing of long

hair--“_capiliaturas nimis longas al faciunt mulieres_.”

Both the Doge and Dogaressa were much occupied in arranging and

furnishing the newly completed private apartments in the Ducal Palace.

Whilst superintending this undertaking, and assigning positions for

the almost numberless “Spoils of Venice,” taken by her Doges, after

their victories afloat and ashore, Dogaressa Cristina was called upon

in 1471, to resign her lifelong partner and to go into retirement. Year

after year spent its slow course and at last no one remembered the

gracious _Signora_ when, in 1533, Martino Sanudo came to make his will.

“I bequeath” he wrote, “to the Church of Messir San Sebastiano a very

venerable relic--a bone of the Saint which belonged to my Aunt Sanuta

Moro, and which she had religiously preserved by way of a charm against

the plague.” This sacred benefaction demonstrated the piety of the old

Dogaressa, as, by her will, executed in January 1471, she proved her

charity.

To the clergy of the monastery of San Giobbe Dogaressa Cristina

assigned a goodly benefaction to provide Masses for the repose of

her own soul, her husband’s--the Doge and her father’s, mother’s, and

her brothers’. The building of this church was due to the Doge and

Dogaressa: in the choir is his tomb bearing the sculptured recognisance

of his family--the _Moro_--mulberry, and over the door of the

Sacristy is his portrait. Perhaps the natural modesty of the Dogaressa

forbade hers, as a pendant, but her patron Saint San Bernardino da

Siena stands as a statuette along with Sant’ Antonio da Padua and San

Giobbe--the patrons of the Doge.

Doge Nicolo Tron (1471–1473) was a very different sort of man from

his predecessor, both in appearance and in character. Tall and

extremely handsome, an athlete in form and practice, he had however

two unpleasing idiosyncrasies--a repulsive expression and a stuttering

tongue. He was not a man of good family, but what he lacked in heredity

he more than made up in wealth. When a young man he settled in

Rhodes,--a land of gold in that day--and acquired by his industry and

profitable speculations an immense fortune,--said to be at least one

hundred thousand gold ducats.

In 1424 he married Aliodea, daughter of Messir Silvestro Morosini of

the _sestiere_ of Santa Giustina, a significant union of rank and money

and a new phase in Venetian matters matrimonial. Ambitious to prove to

his fellow-citizens and the proud nobles his worthiness and opulence

the new Doge departed from the ordinary festive arrangements of the

_Fragilie_, and himself spread the banquet for them in honour of his

Consort. Every attribute of dignity, every emblem of sovereignty, and

every decorative feature of the installation ceremonies, were mounted

upon a magnificent scale. The robes of State were the richest ever worn

by Doge and Dogaressa, and right nobly, we may be sure, the Serene

couple bore themselves. If he was handsome she was beautiful--all the

Morosinis were--a trait which never failed in that splendid family.

The Palazzo Tron, on the Grand Canal, was most extravagantly furnished,

the decoration of one room alone with marble, sculptures, carved wood,

gilding, and rare glass cost more than two thousand gold ducats.

Aliodea Morosini-Tron was the most attractive, and the best dressed

gentlewoman in Venice. Palazzi goes into ecstasies over her

fascinations, and he makes delightful play with her popular name “Dea.”

“Dea” he says, “corresponds with ‘love’ and ‘beauty’ and such were the

characteristics of the Princess who was truly and indeed the ‘Venus

of the Century.’” Once more the old pack of Playing-cards sets forth

the Dogaressas virtues:--The “Knave of Coins” (Diamonds) has:--“Dea

Morosini, wife of Nicolo Tron, Doge of Venice, a most religious

Princess, her humility caused her to choose a private burial--_Dea

se a Dio_.” She gave her husband two children, both boys, the

elder Giacomo became Procurator of San Marco, and the younger,--a

soldier,--fell at the terrible battle of Negroponte.

Doge Tron died in 1473 and was buried in the church of Santa Maria

Gloriosa de’ Frari under a huge monument by the High Altar. He was the

last Doge of Venice whose effigy was stamped upon the coinage of the

Republic. His was a very prosperous _dogado_, and the decline of

Venice was for a brief space stayed. Victories in the East led to the

acquisition of Smyrna, and the littoral of Asia Minor. Cyprus too came

under the banner of San Marco.

Of Dogaressa “Dea’s” good works and influences we seem to have

no records, save what her epitaph recites upon her simple last

resting-place at San Giobbe:--“_Deæ rariss. mulieris illustriss. Dom

Nicolai Throni inclyti Ducis Venetiarum, Conjugis, humili hoc in loco

Corpus jussu tuo conditum est, animan vero ejus propter vitæ virtutum

et morum sanctitatem ad cœlestem patriam advolasse credemdum est._

Ann. Salutis MCCCCLXXVIII.” She survived her husband just five years

and probably kept her cell in the fervour of devotion at the convent of

San Giobbe, far, far away from the madding crowd.

[Illustration: COURTESAN AT HER TOILET.

FROM A PRINT. 1560.

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

[Illustration: A CHARMING COIFFURE.

(The hair falls full at the back).

FROM A PRINT. 1610.

“Habiti Delle Donne.”--G. Franco.]

There is an apocryphal story affecting Doge Nicolo Tron namely that

he was twice married, first to Donna Laura Nogarola, daughter of

Messir Lionardo Nogarola of Verona, and sister of the celebrated

Isotta,--famed as a writer of interesting letters and as a profound

classical scholar. Madonna Laura herself was conspicuous for her

beauty of person, her devout disposition, her charm of manner, and her

erudition. It is a moot point with historians whether Messir Nicolo

Tron divorced the illustrious Laura before he married the divine Dea,

or whether after all the former fair gentlewoman was not the wife of

Messir Cristoforo Pellegrino Ambassador from Verona to Venice during

the _dogado_ of Doge Nicolo Tron. A third supposition refers to

the handsome and wealthy Doge’s adventures in the regions of Platonic

affection, but of this only surmise is possible--facts are wanting, and

here comes romance!

CHAPTER VI

I

The Gardens of Venice!

--“_Veri paradisi terrestri, per la vaghezza dell’aiere e del sito

lioghi di ninfe e di semedei!_”--in an ecstasy of delight wrote Andrea

Calmo, in one of his characteristic “_Lettere_.” He was not the first

by any means who had felt the gentle influence of those earthly bits of

Paradise, for an observant monk, Frate Felice Faber, of Ulm, goes into

raptures, in his “_Evagatorium Terræ Sanctæ_,” over the roof-gardens

he beheld in 1457, as he passed through Venice on his pilgrimage to

the Holy Sepulchre. “Full of aromatic trees and perfumed blossoms,” he

wrote, “nothing can be more wonderful, nothing more delicious.”

From the very first foundations of the _campi_ and _fondamenti_ gardens

had been the chief home-joy of all the dwellers in the lagunes; a

sweet-smelling flowering-plant was as acceptable to them as a piece

of bread and cheese. Spread over all the _sestieri_, chequer-like,

they added immeasurably to the amenities of the city. Time had grown

the sapling into a shady tree, the sprig into a blossoming bush. Upon

the Giudecca, gardens,--“_delicati e rari_,” belonged to the Bandoli,

Conari, Barbari, Gradenighi, Mocenighi, Vendramini, and Gritti. At

Villa Catteneo was the loveliest of them, all built up with rockeries,

splashed by fountains, and running over with roses, lilies and

carnations.

At Murano were the most famous of all Venetian gardens. Sixteen

sumptuous Villa-Palaces sprang up like magic upon that sandy sea-shore,

and, still more wonderful, the magician’s wand brought forth from

alluvial sea-wash, hanging gardens and terraced orchards fairer far

than ever were those of Babylon.

Afternoon and evening, fleets of gondolas cut through the murky water,

full of visitors bent on pleasure, or to view the splendid frescoes at

Villa Mocenigo and the glorious statuary at Villa Trevisan.

Every islet had its garden-patch, every family spent half at least

of each day’s playing-hours _al fresco_: everybody was wise in

Nature’s laws, and inspired romance and poetry amid the lights and

shadows of the greenery, in the music and the measure of the rustling

leaves, and from the delicious air perfumed by fragrant blossoms.

To realise something of what those _villa_ and _casa_ gardens were

like, one must traverse sea and land to bonny Baveno, and there tell

the affable boatman to steer his course to “_Il Palazzo_.” There,

resting upon the azurine-green bosom of beauteous Lago Maggiore, is a

palace like unto a jewelled crown, a garden like fabled Eden, all built

and laid out, doubtless, by garden artists from Venice and Murano. Upon

that delectable spot are gathered all the loveliest things of Nature’s

second kingdom;--so it was at Murano what time Pietro Bembo walked and

thought and talked, leading the muses of the grove and the mermaids of

the shore in mystic dance and song.

“The strange flowers’ perfume turns to singing,

Heard afar, o’er brightest moonlit seas

The Syrens’ song, grown faint in ringing,

Falls in sweet odours on dancing trees.”

Alas, where men of letters and women of fashion once forgathered in

sumptuary and sympathetic symposia are wanton weeds and raw rank grass,

with patches of unpoetic potato and uncultured cabbage. Rag-pickers

and goat-herds hold unclean orgies where peach and cherry trees were

wont to scatter scented painted petals upon the heads and breasts of

those that discoursed philosophy and whispered love. “True love,”

as the Poet-Laureate declared, “that seeks not only perfect beauty

but god-like also:” expressing thus, in Venetian terms, the Greek of

Plato,--“The desire to possess in one perfect union the beloved being

and the lovely soul.” To kiss the hand and not the lips was the theory

of those romancists--the reddest features of the human frame, the

danger-signal of the soul, and so they grimaced and so they postured

under overhanging boughs of acacia and catalpa. In his “_Asolani_”

Bembo sang:--

“_Vita giojosa e cara

Chi da te non l’impara Amor non ave._”

The children of Murano now offer visitors humble nosegays of sea-pinks

and flowering flags, but in the springtide of Venetian poetry and

literature, the orchards were carpeted with hyacinths and anemones,

violets and scented stocks. The terraces and borders yielded light

begonias, banksia roses,--red and yellow,--and carnations of

many hues, all as brilliant as the painted faces and the tinted

bosoms of the beauties, who clasped them from the hands of their

_innamorati_, to place upon their bare and ample breasts.

Bushes of daphne ordorifica and many another aromatic exotic attracted

swarms of luminous butterflies, linnets sang in the laurels, and in

the myrtle, nightingales; but the strings of guitars and the keys

of flutes, vibrated by the gallants of _La Calza_, yielded sweeter

music far. Pergolas were laden with golden grapes and purple, quinces

struggled with pomegranates to delight sight, smell, and taste. Figs

vied with oranges, melons with pines in fullness and in flavour.

Solomon’s gardens poured out no more richly seductive treasures.

Shadows were cast only by solemn cypress and rocking hollyhocks, but

through them flashed saffron bees laden with pelf from honeysuckle,

musk, and lavender.

Men and women, with gay peacocks on the lawn, preened themselves in

gorgeous costumes, conversed in arboreal arbours of all things high

and low, tossed salutations where the spray of fountains cast rainbows

in the scented air, and sang, and danced, and flirted to their hearts’

content. Not that the gardens of Venice were given up wholly to love

and romance, for many a venerable Doge and Dogaressa presided at

feasts of reason, and received the reverences of men of letters and of

women of culture, who have left their finger-prints upon the pages of

literature.

If Pietro Bembo was the Poet-Laureate and the leader of the

literary revels, as great as he, were Aldo Manuzio and Andrea

Navagero,--court-printer and courtier-poet. Then Francesco

Colonna,--lover of “_La Polia_” and Roman king of pageants,--shared

with Ermolao Barbaro,--the humorist and the satirist,--passionate

love of Venice. Lodovico Ariosto and Pietro Aretino,--empirics and

critics both,--made love also to the Venus of the Lagunes, in the

new Bohemia of the island gardens. All the poets sang of “_Venus

Physizone_,”--“Venus the Fruitful,”--Venice sweetheart and wife.

Benozzo Gozzoli, the Florentine, painted, in the Campo Santo at Pisa,

the song and dance of Venice--the _Rispetti_ and _Ballate_,--love

ditties of youth, and the _Frottole_ and _Madrigali_--murmurings of

adult romance,--movements in life-tragedies.

Music, step, and cadence, traditional and patriotic, were the

actualities of lagune life in the open: for stage, the garden-plot, the

well-head, the gondola-herse, and the open _campi_. Refrains, piped

and warbled, in _calli_ and _rive_, and, graceful and heavy measures

stepped there, were carried off to sea in the galleys of commerce and

of war. Sympathetic language is everything, in expressive popularity,

and, if cultured Venetians used Latin and Tuscan in lecture and

conversation, no tongue of any time was so rich in scenes of caressing

endearment as the common-talk of Venice, no dialect was anything like

so soft, sensuous, and melodious.

Historians, great and small,--Martino Sanudo and Marcantonio Coccio and

many another--forgathered in the gardens, and wrote delightful records

of fascinating and learned women, as well as of bewitching butterflies

of fashion. Cristina Pisano, in the fourteenth century, “Mother of

women writers,” and Cassandra Fedele, in the fifteenth,--“_Decus

Italia_,” Angello Poliziano, the Medicean, called her,--were leaders

in the great Venetian pageant of the Graces and the Liberal Arts.

Moderata Fonte sang sympathetically the glory on Venetian womanhood:--

“_S’ornano il ciel le stelle

Ornan le donne il mondo

Con quanto e in lui di bello e di giocondo._”

There were lovely gardens also at Friuli, Asolo, and all along the

Brenta, where Venetians,--fair and brave, wise and dignified--held

revels and communings, masked balls and stately receptions.

If you would see and know the _Messiri_ and the _belle Donne_

of Venice, in the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries, you will find them

resting or disporting themselves in their villas and their gardens.

There, arrayed in his official crimson velvet robe of semi-State,--you

will make your reverence to his Serenity the Doge, and, at his side you

will bend your knee to kiss a gracious Dogaressa’s hand. She has not

to bear the weight of her stiff State robe of cloth of gold; she is

in crimson silk, and her fair hair, hardly showing streaks of white,

is covered with a becoming veil of lace, fixed with great gold and

jewelled pins. They are the most affable and most approachable noble

couple in all history, and the younger people are all the gayer for

their presence, strangers are completely at their ease, noble Lords of

the Council, dignified matrons, the cultured, the artistic, and the

seriously-minded, find pleasure and distinction in their company.

* * * * *

By electing Nicolo Marcello, in succession to Doge Nicolo Tron, in

1473, the Lords of the Council returned to their traditional usage. He

was a member of one of the eight considerable families before 1289,

ranking third in the premier grade of the nobility immediately after

the “Apostolic” and “Evangelistic” families. He had, however, in the

eyes of the very select, lowered himself by his marriage in 1427, with

Donna Bianca Elena, daughter of Messir Francesco Barbarigo, Procurator

of San Marco, a distinguished member of a family rising rapidly in

wealth and influence, but only ennobled, with nineteen other families,

after the Genoese war of Chioggia. Madonna Bianca died, probably of

plague, two years later, and then Messir Marcello again entered the

estate of matrimony with Madonna Contarina, widow of Messir Francesco

Morosini. She was a Contarini, a daughter of one of the most exalted

and wealthiest families on the Roll of Nobles.

Very little is recorded of either the Doge or Dogaressa, for their

reign was the shortest of any in the line of Doges of Venice,--less

than a twelvemonth. There is a very ambiguous notice in “_La Storia

di Venezia_,” a manuscript history in the Museo Civico, which states

that:--“Messir Nicolo Marcello, aged seventy-six, would not allow the

Dogaressa, his Consort, to enter the Palace.” This of course refers to

the usual solemn Entry and Coronation, but the why and wherefore are

not stated, and no amount of surmise will explain the matter.

[Illustration: A VILLA-GARDEN DANCE ON THE GIUDECCA.

FROM AN ENGRAVING. 1562.

MUSEO CIVICO, VENICE.]

“This Doge,” the manuscript goes on to say, “was a very pompous

sort of man, and he caused the regalia of his office,--including

the State umbrella and cushion, which had hitherto been both of

crimson velvet,--to be made entirely of gold and cloth of gold. He

had a _Corno_ entirely of gold and jewels, like the crown of an

independent Sovereign, and he added, to the State robe of cloth of

gold, a costly tippet of ermine, fastened down the front with solid

gold clasps and buttons.” His ordinary dress was scarlet, but at State

functions and in Council he wore white or cloth of silver under the

State robes.

In his will, executed on 24th July 1473, the Doge made some recompense

to his spouse for the denial of dignity. “To my dearly-loved Consort,”

he deposed, “I leave eighteen hundred gold ducats (her dowry) together

with two thousand gold ducats. I also bequeath to her the contents

of my wardrobe, and assign to her, for use during her lifetime, my

_Casa_, on the Campo di Santa Marina, together with all my

equipages, horses, furniture, tapestries, and everything necessary for

her honourable maintenance as my widow.” Doge Marcello died in January

1473–1474, and was buried in the ancient, but no longer existent,

church of Santa Marina. His monument is now in SS. Giovanni e Paolo,

whither it was removed along with that of Doge Michele Steno. The death

and burial of Dogaressa Contarina Morosini-Marcello are unrecorded.

The _dogado_ of Pietro Mocenigo (1474–1476), was almost as brief

as that of his predecessor. He was a veteran leader of the armies of

the Republic, fighting for years against the forces of the Turks. His

monument in SS. Giovanni e Paolo bears the epitaph:--“_Ex Hostium

Manubis_,” in recognition of his invaluable services. In life he

was something of an old-man-in-a-hurry, for his energy was unbounded

and his love of Venice enthusiastic. The Dogaressa was Donna Laura,

daughter of Messir Giovanni Zorzi. We look in vain for records of

his reign and notices of her virtues: all we have is a clause in his

_Promissione_, which granted to her and her family, in the event

of his predemise, the use of the private apartments in the Ducal Palace

for three months after his death--“so as to avoid unseemly haste.”

Fresh sumptuary laws were passed affecting dress and fashions under

Dogaressa Laura: she herself, as were all the Dogaressas, was

expressly excluded along with her _Dozete_ or daughters, from

their operation. In 1474 long trains were forbidden, but quite easily

this was disregarded for some inventive mind or other,--a stylish

craftswoman doubtless,--created a new thing of beauty, which became a

joy to train wearers, a jewelled gold bangle, through which the corner

of the offending garment was caught up when occasion demanded!

Lionardo Bota, the Milanese ambassador to Venice in 1476, put on record

that the _gentildonne_ of Venice had reached such a lavish style

of dressing that he “could not conceive how their costumes could ever

be more gorgeous: many ladies boasted that several of them cost more

than five thousand ducats apiece!” A decree of the _Tribunale delle

Pompe_ was issued to check and moderate the excessive expenditure.

Costly gold and pearl embroideries were forbidden together with

point-lace with gold and silver thread, and gold tassels with drops of

precious stones. Belts and charms were ordered to be less jewelled and

less massive.

Andrea Vendramin and Regina Gradenigo were acclaimed as Doge and

Dogaressa of Venice in 1476. He belonged to a family ennobled after

the Chioggian War and accounted among the wealthiest. Messir Vendramin

appears to have made his fortune in the commercial pursuits of his

family, and, settling for some years in the Greek island of Rhodes,

as a purveyor and provision merchant amassed a fortune of no less

than one hundred and sixty thousand gold ducats. Tradesman, or no, he

was a man of rare artistic tastes and a keen antiquarian. Upon the

dispersal of the collections of Doge Marino Falier his grandfather

purchased everything of special value and interest, and through his

father, Messir Andrea inherited the treasure, to which he added very

considerably. The Catalogue of the Vendramin Museum and Gallery filled

sixteen portly volumes.

The Dogaressa was a daughter of Messir Andrea Gradenigo of an

“Apostolic” family, and much the superior of her husband in rank: she

married the future Doge in 1426. Six daughters were born to the noble

couple, for each of whom their father apportioned the very goodly dowry

of seven thousand gold ducats, but upon one condition that he should

choose their husbands! As a young man Andrea Vendramin was said to have

been one of the handsomest and most courtly gentlemen of the city.

Dogaressa Regina made her solemn Entry with all the pomp and

circumstance customary for that event,--but she was not crowned.

This was the first step in the declension of the splendour and

quasi-sovereignty of the First Lady of Venice. Gradually the Dogaressa

had been accorded, and had assumed dignity upon dignity: henceforward

she was as gradually to lose her distinctions.

The _dogado_ of Andrea Vendramin synchronised with the most

disastrous period in Venetian history. “He died,” wrote Ruskin in his

“_Stones of Venice_,” “leaving Venice disgraced by sea and land,

with the smoke of hostile devastation rising in the blue mists beyond

Friuli.” His death in 1478, was due to pestilence, which followed the

ravages of the Turks, carried to the shores of the lagunes, “from the

Orient by the ships of the new Mistress of the Seas, the supplanter

of the Supremacy of the Queen of the Adriatic.” He was buried in the

now ruined Church of Gli Servi, but during the nineteenth century his

monument was removed, with many others, to the Venetian Pantheon of SS.

Giovanni e Paolo.

Dogaressa Regina survived her Consort many years, but of her end we

have no account. There is, in the Museo Civico, a curious picture,

apparently commemorative of her Solemn Entry, with the following

inscription:--“_Regina Gradenigo Andreæ Vendram, Veni, Princeps,

Uxor, Senioribus ac Propinquis comitata ingenti populi plausa Regiam

Aulam ingreditur MCCCCLXXVI._”

Giovanni and Taddea Mocenigo assumed the _Corno_ in 1478. He was a

younger brother of Doge Pietro Mocenigo, the third member of his

family within the century to mount the Ducal throne--a circumstance

only paralleled by the Dandoli since the far-off days of the

Particepazi, Candiani, Orseoli, and Michieli. The Dogaressa was a

daughter of Messir Giovanni Michielo and vindicated in her person

the assertion often made, that “succession through the female line

is always more certain than through the male,”--the last Michielo

Doge,--Vitale II.--died in 1172.

In the February of the year of their accession the Sultan of

Constantinople sent an embassy to Venice seeking terms of amity and

reciprocity and bearing costly gifts to their Serenities, and also

many presents for the principal nobles. Among the offerings was a

magnificent Oriental carpet,--the like of which the Venetians had

never beheld,--a number of handsome jewels for the Dogaressa, and a

weird collection of new animals. Both the Doge and his Consort had

a hobby for wild animals and greatly added to the number of such

creatures in the Venetian Zoological Gardens--now the _Giardino

Reale_--established in 1310 under the _dogado_ of Pietro

Gradenigo.

The arrival of these beasts, among them a giraffe,--hitherto an unknown

animal save in fiction,--caused wild excitement in Venice, and, like

its brother in Florence, it was the recipient of caresses by the nuns

in the convents to whom it was exhibited. Unfortunately, the whole

collection perished in a calamitous fire which burnt out, not only the

beasts’ dens, but also ravaged the private apartments of the Doge and

Dogaressa, and destroyed the whole sequence of portraits of former

Doges, besides many priceless art treasures.

Unhappily Dogaressa Taddea, herself, perished in October of the

year of her Coronation,--a victim, with many of the gentlewomen of

her Court,--of the terrible scourge of the Black Death. Her funeral

obsequies were conducted upon the most lavish scale,--quite the most

sumptuous of any public funeral in Venetian history. The ceremonial

was identical with that observed at the burial of a Doge, but far more

impressive by reason of universal mourning--a “Mother of Israel” was

borne through a sea of human tears to her last resting-place. After the

operation of embalming, her body was first exposed in State within the

_Sala de’ Pioveghi_, within the Ducal Palace, thence it was escorted

to the no longer existent parish church of San Geminiano, in order

that the poorer people might the more easily view the remains of their

benefactress. Arrayed in her Coronation robes, with the smaller Ducal

_Corno_ on her head, and the face covered with a delicate lace veil of

Burano, she was watched by a succession of nuns from San Zaccaria and

of _Pinzocchere_, or noble recluses, in the exercise of their functions

as State mourners.

The place of ultimate sepulture was the grand church of SS. Giovanni

e Paolo. The _cortège_ was accompanied by the clergy of the City

churches, members of the various monastic Orders, the chapters and

officials of San Marco and San Pietro di Castello, the five _Scuole

de’ Battudi_, the three _Ordini delle Pinzocchere_, the Lords of the

Council, the foreign ambassadors and a large following of Masters and

officers of the Craft Guilds with their banners furled. Twenty noble

relatives of the Doge and Dogaressa held the pall, and the bier was

carried by relays of workmen from the Arsenal. The Ducal regalia

was borne by the Officers of State, but the one absentee was the

widowed Doge,--broken-hearted he remained inconsolable in his private

apartments.

A splendid catafalque erected in the nave of the church was guarded by

the Doge’s body-guard of one hundred Captains of Marine. This “Triumph

of Death” ended with the interment of the beloved Dogaressa in the

grand sarcophagus which Doge Mocenigo had prepared for himself and his

spouse. He poor man was not only utterly prostrated by the sudden and

unlooked-for death of his dearly-loved wife, but he was also deeply

distressed by the ravages of the pestilence. Venice was for the nonce

a pest-house, full of dead and dying people, with few able and willing

to bury them. Scenes of savagery were to be witnessed in every _casa_

and _calle_ and the _Beccamorte_ went about collecting corpses for

submersion in remote deep waters of the lagunes,--funeral pyres were

lighted in the distant _campi_. In 1485 Doge Giovanni Mocenigo followed

his lamented Consort in a similar “Triumph,” and his body was laid

beside hers under the huge monument which occupies the whole wall-space

near the grand portal of SS. Giovanni e Paolo.

II

For a graphic account of Venice and the Venetians, at the close of the

fifteenth century, the pen-pictures drawn by a Milanese monk, passing

through Venice in his “_Viaggio a Gerusalemme_,” and published in

1494, are most interesting. He affirms first of all that “it is not

possible to describe fully the charm, the magnificence, and the wealth

of the City.” He assisted at the High Mass and Procession on Corpus

Christi Day at San Marco and on Piazza. “The robes of velvet, crimson,

purple, and yellow, and the togas of cloth of gold sweeping the ground,

each finer than the last, were wonderful.” There was “great silence,

such as I never before observed even at the very large gathering of

nobles. Everything was well ordered as though ruled by one master.

I have considered the quality of these Venetian courtiers, who for

the most part are fair complexioned, slim, and tall, and I can quite

readily believe their reputation for astuteness in their dealings. You

must if you would treat successfully with them, keep your eyes and

ears wide open. They are very proud, and I think it is because of the

eminence of Venice afloat and ashore. When a son is born to Venetian

parents they say ‘another young Lord has come into the World.’ At home

they are fairly simple in their living but abroad, in public, they are

lavish with their gifts and enjoyments. The richness of their dress is

indescribable, but out of doors every man wears a full toga of black

and none but a born fool would venture without it.”

The worthy Frate goes on to talk about the women and girls and their

dress. “The married ladies and those no longer of the company of the

_belle giovane_ are all covered, in the streets and in church, in

sombre cloaks, they look like widows or nuns of the Benedictine Order;

it needs but the bell or the trumpet announcing the _festa_ for

them to assume the most splendid garments that women possess, and

their jewels are wonderful. The young girls are beautiful and full of

fun.”

Monk as he was Casola was taken, as was the Venetian custom, when a

marked distinction was paid to an honoured foreign guest, to witness

“the unique spectacle” as he calls it of a lying-in-mother. She was the

wife of Messir Agnello Delfino, of that noble family. With him went

an envoy of the King of France, and he judged that Messir Delfino’s

motive in this particular case was to astonish his visitors by Venetian

magnificence even in the privacy of the home. “The room,” he says,

“had a charming piece of Carrara marble picked out with gold, and

chiselled so as Praxiteles and Pheidias could not have bettered; the

ceiling was so finely decorated with gold and deep blue, and the walls

so finely hung that I cannot describe the effect. There was so much

gold everywhere that I am not sure whether Solomon in his golden glory

would not have looked small. Among the ornaments was a dish of gold

valued at about five hundred gold ducats. The bed was of cedar or some

such sweet scented wood and gilded, but of the ornaments and dress of

the noble lady I think it best to keep silence rather than speak for

fear no one would believe me. My attention was called off perhaps by

the five-and-twenty lovely young noble ladies, each one fairer than her

neighbour, seated around the bed, their blonde hair elaborately puffed

and their features touched up with colour. Their dresses were discreet

_alla Venegiana_: they showed no more than six finger-breadths

of bare breast below their shoulders, back and front. These damsels

had so many jewels on their heads and around their throats, and wore

so many costly rings,--precious stones, pearls, and gold,--that we,

who talked the matter over afterwards, came to the conclusion that the

total value far exceeded one hundred thousand gold ducats. Their faces

were superbly painted and so was the rest of them that was bare.”

This “unique spectacle,” later, became a scandal, and the authorities

stepped in to amend the customs attending child-birth. Lying-in-women

of all classes were forbidden to receive the visits of strangers in

their bedrooms, near relatives alone were admitted, under a fine of

thirty gold ducats. The Chief of the Cabinet of Ceremonials was the

officer charged to see that the decree was duly observed. He had the

right of entry at child-birth into the very presence of the mother,

and was directed to remove in custody any unauthorised person. The

penalty was absurdly severe--three months’ imprisonment in the dungeons

and three months in the penal galleys! This edict however was easily

evaded, servants, midwives and even police were open to receive bribes

for silence and acquiescence.

The noble mother was usually dressed entirely in white silk, her cap

was of fine Burano lace, upon her fingers she wore her rings. Her

pillows were of embroidered white silk, and trimmed with white lace,

the coverlet was rich damask-silk padded and stitched, and often as

not fringed and tasselled with gold. Midwives were required to notify

a birth within three days and to give the name and residence of the

putative father. The parish priest had to register the sex and name of

each child offered for baptism.

[Illustration: “LE NOVIZE.”--BRIDES VISITING THEIR RELATIVES.

FROM A PRINT. 1560.

“Habiti Delle Donne.”--G. Franco.]

With respect to the entertainment of visitors very many more friends

and neighbours looked in after the birth of a boy than that of a girl.

They were served in vessels of gold and silver with spiced cakes, iced

confectionery, figs, grapes, and coffee, and each was expected to leave

a present behind for the child and ample largesse for the servants.

This duty fell constantly to the lot of the Doge and Dogaressa who

frequently went from house to house to honour this or that noble

couple, with their presentations. The Doge’s gift was a gold cup, the

Dogaressa’s a gold chain.

* * * * *

The last two Doges of the century were the brothers Marco and Agostino

Barbarigo, sons of Messir Francesco Barbarigo and Madonna Caterina

Morosini. The Barbarigo came originally from Trieste and claimed to be

collaterals of the ancient and extinct family of Zobenico, which, in

the tenth century was already settled in Rivo-Alto. Marco Barbarigo

was elected Doge in 1485,--“a man,” if his epitaph may be believed,

“upright in his dealings with his neighbours, he never sought praise or

profit, but laboured for the public good.” The Dogaressa was Madonna

Lucia Ruzzini,--beautiful and talented, although Marino Sanudo refers

to her incidentally as nothing more than “a very tolerable kind of

woman.” She was always ailing, and yet by way of proof that “a creaking

gate hangs long,” she outlived her Consort ten full years, but her

reign was as uneventful as it was short, one brief year, no more.

The Doge and his younger brother Agostino were never on good terms,

and the disputes between them became so acrimonious that, one day,

after an unusually harsh quarrel, Doge Marco fell ill of excitement and

worry, and was seized with severe cardiac pains. Feeling the stringency

of his attack and fearing the imminence of death, he summoned to his

couch his four sons. He set before them their duty to the State and

commended their suffering mother to their filial care, then he embraced

them and her tenderly and blessed them, and, forgiving his headstrong

brother, he quietly passed away. His body was laid in State with full

honours in the _Sala de’ Pioveghi_ and then ceremonially buried

in the church of Santa Maria della Carita, the conventual buildings of

which, and the _Scuola Grande di Santa Maria della Carita_,--the

oldest of the religious corporations of the thirteenth century,--are

nowadays the Palace of the _Accademia_.

Dogaressa-dowager Lucia Ruzzini-Barbarigo’s will was executed in 30th

July 1496,--fourteen days before her death,--wherein she directs

that her burial shall be “conducted simply in the Church of Santa

Maria della Carita, where reposes the body of my husband.” ... “To

Sister Margherita, Prioress of the _Ospedale d’Ognissanti di Murano_

I leave five gold ducats and my new silken robe.” To her daughters,

both cloistered nuns of Ognissanti, she left her State robes and

her _Corno_, with five gold ducats apiece. She was interred by her

husband’s side.

The Dogaressa had, among other dependants a Circassian slave, who bore

the name of Maddalena, and to whom she was much attached. She had

served Madonna Lucia and her family with fidelity for many years,

now the testatrix declared her “free from every chain” and bequeathed

to her a comfortable competence. This mention of a “slave” opens out

a vexed subject. Far away in the eighth century the early Venetian

merchant-adventurers, vigorous and amorous by nature and disposition,

saw and loved beauteous maidens in Eastern ports. The harem life

appealed to them and many an one became the happy possessor, by right

of purchase, of helpless friendless damsels.

Oriental slaves were gladly welcomed as workers by the Trade Guilds,

especially by the Carpet-weavers, the Makers of cloth of gold

and silver tissue, and the Armourers. Public slave auctions were

established at San Giorgio in Rialto. The average price for boys and

girls seems to have been twenty-five gold ducats; but as many as

eighty or one hundred changed hands for a particularly fine specimen

of humanity or for one skilled in craftsmanship. These human chattels

were well protected by State enactments and often as not they exercised

considerable influence in the families of their owners. The wills of

Venetians of property generally contained clauses indicative of wishes

concerning their slaves.

In Florence, as Madonna Alessandra negli Strozzi has related in her

“_Lettere_,” people preferred dark-haired, swarthy Tartars, who

she says, “are the best for work, and most simple in their ways,” but

in Venice,--where the sun turned all maidens’ hair into strands of

gold,--fair-skinned auburn-haired Circassians, like Dogaressa Lucia

Ruzzini-Barbarigo’s devoted Maddalena, were in most request. They were

usually skilful in the artifices of the toilet and well adapted for

the Venetian _sol fa nienti_ sort of life. The presence of slaves

in Venice and their absorption into the private life of the nobles and

the citizens were paramount factors in the evolution of the courtesan.

Whilst marriage with a slave was absolutely forbidden, the mutual

relations of the races and of the sexes were such that perhaps the

motto of our British Royal House is the best vindication:--“_Honi

soit qui mal y pense!_”

The painful circumstances which led to Doge Agostino Barbarigo’s

succession were soon forgotten in the revived life and prosperity of

the Republic. It appeared as though, after flickering fitfully for many

a weary year, the golden wax candles of Venetian shrines were again to

burn with their wonted brilliancy. Venice recovered Rimini, Faenza,

Brindisi, Otranto, and many other possessions on the Adriatic, and her

flag once more flaunted proudly on the high seas. The following couplet

succinctly set forth the glories of the departing century:--

“_Polente in guerra et amica di pace

Venetia el ben’ commun sempre le piace._”