although derived from Germany, was quite in its place here--I mean two
pilgrims, the first whom I have seen closely. They have a right to
travel gratis in this public conveyance; but because the rest of the
passengers dislike coming into contact with them, they do not sit in
the covered part, but in the after-part beside the steersman. They were
stared at as a phenomenon even at the present day, and as in former
times many vagabonds had made use of this cloak, they were but lightly
esteemed. When I learned that they were Germans, and could speak no
language but their own, I joined them, and found that they came from
the Paderborn territory. Both of them were men of more than fifty
years of age, and of a dark, but good-humoured physiognomy. They had
first visited the sepulchre of the "Three Kings" at Cologne, had then
travelled through Germany, and were now together on their way back to
Borne and Upper Italy, whence one intended to set out for Westphalia,
and the other to pay a visit of adoration to St. James of Compostella.
Their dress was the well-known costume of pilgrims, but they looked
much better with this tucked up robe, than the pilgrims in long taffeta
garments, we are accustomed to exhibit at our masquerades. The long
cape, the round hat, the staff and cockle (the latter used as the most
innocent drinking-vessel)--all had its signification, and its immediate
use, while a tin-case held their passports. Most remarkable of all
were their small, red morocco pocket-books, in which they kept all
the little implements that might be wanted for any simple necessity.
They took them out on finding that something wanted mending in their
garments.
[Sidenote: The passage to Venice.]
The steersman, highly pleased to find an interpreter, made me ask them
several questions, and thus I learned a great deal about their views,
and especially about their expedition. They made bitter complaints
against their brethren in the faith, and even against the clergy,
both secular and monastic. Piety, they said, must be a very scarce
commodity, since no one would believe in theirs, but they were treated
as vagrants in almost every Catholic country, although they produced
the route which had been clerically prescribed, and the passports given
by the bishop. On the other hand, they described, with a great deal
of emotion, how well they had been received by protestants, and made
special mention of a country clergyman in Suabia, and still more of his
wife, who had prevailed on her somewhat unwilling husband to give them
an abundant repast, of which they stood in great need. On taking leave,
the good couple had given them a "convention's dollar,"[3] which they
found very serviceable, as soon as they entered the Catholic territory.
Upon this, one of them said, with all the elevation of which he was
capable: "We include this lady every day in our prayers, and implore
God that he will open her eyes, as he has opened her heart towards us,
and take her, although late, into the bosom of the Catholic Church. And
thus we hope that we shall meet her in Paradise hereafter."
As I sat upon the little gang-way which led to the deck, I explained
as much as was necessary and useful to the steers-man, and to some
other persons who had crowded from the cabin into this narrow space.
The pilgrims received some paltry donations, for the Italian is not
fond of giving. Upon this they drew out some little consecrated
tickets, on which might be seen the representation of the three sainted
kings, with some prayers addressed to them. The worthy men entreated
me to distribute these tickets among the little party, and explain
how invaluable they were. In this I succeeded perfectly, for when
the two men appeared to be greatly embarrassed as to how they should
find the convent devoted to pilgrims in so large a place as Venice,
the steersman was touched, and promised that, when they landed, he
would give a boy a trifle to lead them to that distant spot. He added
to me in confidence, that they would find but little welcome. "The
institution," he said, "was founded to admit I don't know how many
pilgrims, but now it has become greatly contracted, and the revenues
are otherwise employed."
During this conversation we had gone down the beautiful Brenta, leaving
behind us many a noble garden, and many a noble palace, and casting
a rapid glance at the populous and thriving hamlets, which lay along
the banks. Several gondolas wound about the ship as soon as we had
entered the lagunes. A Lombard, well acquainted with Venice, asked me
to accompany him, that we might enter all the quicker, and escape the
nuisance of the custom-house. Those who endeavoured to hold us back, he
contrived to put off with a little drink-money, and so, in a cheerful
sunset, we floated to the place of our destination.
[Footnote 3: A "convention's dollar" is a dollar coined in consequence
of an agreement made between several of the German states, in the year
1750, when the Viennese standard was adopted.--Trans.]
* * * * *
_Sept._ 29 (_Michaelmas-Day_). _Evening._
So much has already been told and printed about Venice, that I
shall not be circumstantial in my description, but shall only say
how it struck me. Now, in this instance again, that which makes the
chief impression upon me, is the people,--a great mass, who live an
involuntary existence determined by the changing circumstances of the
moment.
It was for no idle fancy that this race fled to these islands; it was
no mere whim which impelled those who followed to combine with them;
necessity taught them to look for security in a highly disadvantageous
situation, that afterwards became most advantageous, enduing them
with talent, when the whole northern world was immersed in gloom.
Their increase and their wealth were a necessary consequence. New
dwellings arose close against dwellings, rocks took the place of sand
and marsh, houses sought the sky, being forced like trees inclosed in
a narrow compass, to seek in height what was denied them in breadth.
Being niggards of every inch of ground, as having been from the very
first compressed into a narrow compass, they allowed no more room
for the streets than was just necessary to separate a row of houses
from the one opposite, and to afford the citizens a narrow passage.
Moreover, water supplied the place of street, square, and promenade.
The Venetian was forced to become a new creature; and thus Venice can
only be compared with itself. The large canal, winding like a serpent,
yields to no street in the world, and nothing can be put by the side
of the space in front of St. Mark's square--I mean that great mirror
of water, which is encompassed by Venice Proper, in the form of a
crescent. Across the watery surface you see to the left the island of
St. Georgio Maggiore, to the right a little, further off the Guidecca
and its canal, and still more distant the _Dogana_ (Custom-house)
and the entrance into the _Canal Grande_, where right before us two
immense marble temples are glittering in the sunshine. All the views
and prospects have been so often engraved, that my friends will have no
difficulty in forming a clear idea of them.
[Sidenote: Venice.]
After dinner I hastened to fix my first impression of the whole, and
without a guide, and merely observing the cardinal points, threw myself
into the labyrinth of the city, which though everywhere intersected by
larger or smaller canals, is again connected by bridges. The narrow
and crowded appearance of the whole cannot be conceived by one who has
not seen it. In most cases one can quite or nearly measure the breadth
of the street, by stretching out one's arms, and in the narrowest, a
person would scrape his elbows if he walked with his arms a-kimbo. Some
streets, indeed, are wider, and here and there is a little square, but
comparatively all may be called narrow.
I easily found the grand canal, and the principal bridge--the Rialto,
which consists of a single arch of white marble. Looking down from
this, one has a fine prospect,--the canal full of ships, which bring
every necessary from the continent, and put in chiefly at this place to
unload, while between them is a swarm of gondolas. To-day, especially,
being Michaelmas, the view was wonderfully animated; but to give some
notion of it, I must go back a little.
The two principal parts of Venice, which are divided by the grand
canal, are connected by no other bridge than the Rialto, but several
means of communication are provided, and the river is crossed in
open boats at certain fixed points. To-day a very pretty effect was
produced, by the number of well-dressed ladies, who, their features
concealed beneath large black veils, were being ferried over in large
parties at a time, in order to go to the church of the Archangel, whose
festival was being solemnised. I left the bridge and went to one of
the points of landing, to see the parties as they left the boats. I
discovered some very fine forms and faces among them.
After I had become tired of this amusement. I seated myself in a
gondola, and, quitting the narrow streets with the intention of
witnessing a spectacle of an opposite description, went along the
northern part of the grand canal, into the lagunes, and then entered
the canal della Guidecca, going as far as the square of St. Mark. Now
was I also one of the birds of the Adriatic sea, as every Venetian
feels himself to be, whilst reclining in his gondola. I then thought
with due honour of my good father, who knew of nothing better than to
talk about the things I now witnessed. And will it not be so with me
likewise? All that surrounds me is dignified--a grand venerable work
of combined human energies, a noble monument, not of a ruler, but of a
people. And if their lagunes are gradually filling up, if unwholesome
vapours are floating over the marsh, if their trade is declining and
their power has sunk, still the great place and the essential character
will not for a moment, be less venerable to the observer. Venice
succumbs to time, like everything that has a phenomenal existence.
* * * * *
_Sept._ 30.
Towards evening I again rambled, without a guide, into the remotest
quarters of the city. The bridges here are all provided with stairs,
that gondolas, and even larger vessels, may pass conveniently under the
arches. I sought to find my way in and out of this labyrinth, without
asking anybody, and, on this occasion also, only guiding myself by
the points of the compass. One disentangles one's self at last, but
it is a wonderful complication, and my manner of obtaining a sensible
impression of it, is the best. I have now been to the remotest points
of the city, and observed the conduct, mode of life, manners, and
character of the inhabitants; and in every quarter they are different.
Gracious Heaven!--What a poor good sort of animal man is, after all!
Most of the smaller houses stand immediately on the canals, but there
are here and there quays of stone, beautifully paved, along which one
may take a pleasant walk between the water, and the churches, and
palaces. Particularly cheerful and agreeable is the long stone quay
on the northern side, from which the islands are visible, especially
Murano, which is a Venice on a small scale. The intervening lagunes
are all alive with little gondolas.
* * * * *
_Sept._ 30. _Evening._
To-day I have enlarged my notions of Venice by procuring a plan of it.
When I had studied it for some time, I ascended the tower of St. Mark,
where an unique spectacle is presented to the eye. It was noon, and the
sun was so bright that I could see places near and distant without a
glass. The tide covered the lagunes, and when I turned my eyes towards
what is called the _Lido_ (this is a narrow strip of earth, which
bounds the lagunes), I saw the sea for the first time with some sails
upon it. In the lagunes themselves some gallies and frigates are lying,
destined to join the Chevalier Emo, who is making war on the Algerines,
but detained by unfavorable winds. The mountains of Padua and Vicenza,
and the mountain-chain of Tyrol, beautifully bound the picture between
the north and west.
* * * * *
_October_ 1.
I went out and surveyed the city from many points of view, and as
it was Sunday, I was struck by the great want of cleanliness in the
streets, which forced me to make some reflections. There seems to be a
sort of policy in this matter, for the people scrape the sweepings into
the corners, and I see large ships going backwards and forwards, which
at several points He to, and take off the accumulation. They belong to
the people of the surrounding islands, who are in want of manure. But,
however, there is neither consistency nor strictness in this method,
and the want of cleanliness in the city is the more unpardonable, as in
it, as much provision has been made for cleaning it, as in any Dutch
town.
All the streets are paved--even those in the remotest quarters, with
bricks at least, which are laid down lengthwise, with the edges
slightly canting: the middle of the street where necessary is raised a
little, while channels are formed on each side to receive the water,
and convey it into covered drains. There are other architectural
arrangements in the original well-considered plan, which prove the
intention of the excellent architects to make Venice the most cleanly,
as well as the most singular of cities. As I walked along I could
not refrain from sketching a body of regulations on the subject,
anticipating in thought some superintendent of police, who might
act in earnest. Thus one always feels an inclination to sweep one's
neighbour's door.
* * * * *
_Oct._ 2, 1786.
Before all things I hastened to the _Carità._ I had found in Palladio's
works that he had planned a monastic building here, in which he
intended to represent a private residence of the rich and hospitable
ancients. The plan, which was excellently drawn, both as a whole and in
detail, gave me infinite delight, and I hoped to find a marvel. Alas!
scarcely a tenth part of the edifice is finished. However, even this
part is worthy of that heavenly genius. There is a completeness in
the plan, and an accuracy in the execution, which I had never before
witnessed. One ought to pass whole years in the contemplation of such
a work. It seems to me that I have seen nothing grander, nothing more
perfect, and I fancy that I am not mistaken. Only imagine the admirable
artist, born with an inner feeling for the grand and the pleasing,
now, for the first time, forming himself by the ancients, with
incredible labour, that he may be the means of reviving them. He finds
an opportunity to carry out a favorite thought in building a convent,
which is destined as a dwelling for so many monks, and a shelter for so
many strangers, in the form of an antique private residence.
The church was already standing and led to an atrium of Corinthian
columns. Here one feels delighted, and forgets all priestcraft. At one
end, the sacristy, at another, a chapter-room is found, while there
is the finest winding stair-case in the world, with a wide well, and
the stone-steps built into the wall, and so laid, that one supports
another. One is never tired of going up and down this stair-case,
and we may judge of its success, from the fact that Palladio himself
declares that he has succeeded. The fore-court leads to the large
inner-court. Unfortunately, nothing is finished of the building which
was to surround this, except the left side. Here there are three rows
of columns, one over the other; on the ground-floor are the halls, on
the first story is an archway in front of the cells, and the upper
story consists of a plain wall with windows. However, this description
should be illustrated by a reference to the sketches. I will just add a
word about the execution.
[Sidenote: Venice.]
Only the capitals and bases of the columns, and the key-stones of the
arches, are of hewn stone; all the rest is--I will not say of brick,
but-of burned clay. This description of tile I never saw before. The
frieze and cornice are of the same material, as well as the parts
of the arch. All is but half burnt, and lastly the building is put
together with a very little lime. As it stands it looks as if it had
been produced at one cast. If the whole had been finished, and it had
been properly rubbed up and coloured, it would have been a charming
sight.
However, as so often happens with buildings of a modern time, the plan
was too large. The artist had pre-supposed not only that the existing
convent would be pulled down, but also that the adjoining houses would
be bought, and here money and inclination probably began to fail. Kind
Destiny, thou who hast formed and perpetuated so much stupidity, why
didst thou not allow this work to be completed!
* * * * *
_Oct._ 3.
The church _Il Redentore_ is a large and beautiful work by Palladio,
with a façade even more worthy of praise than that of S. Giorgio. These
works, which have often been engraved, must be placed before you, to
elucidate what is said. I will only add a few words.
Palladio was thoroughly imbued with the antique mode of existence,
and felt the narrow, petty spirit of his own age, like a great man
who will not give way to it, but strives to mould all that it leaves
him, as far as possible, into accordance with his own ideas. From a
slight perusal of his book I conclude that he was displeased with the
continued practice of building Christian churches after the form of
the ancient Basilica, and, therefore, sought to make his own sacred
edifices approximate to the form of the antique temple. Hence arose
certain discrepancies, which, as it seemed to me, are happily avoided
in _Il Redentore_, but are rather obvious in the S. Giorgio. Volckmann
says something about it, but does not hit the nail on the head.
The interior of _Il Redentore_ is likewise admirable. Everything,
including even the designs of the altars, is by Palladio.
Unfortunately, the niches, which should have been filled with statues,
are glaring with wooden figures, flat, carved, and painted.
* * * * *
_October_ 3.
In honour of S. Francis, S. Peter's capuchins have splendidly adorned
a side altar. There was nothing to be seen of stone but the Corinthian
capitals; all the rest seemed to be covered with tasteful but splendid
embroidery, in the arabesque style, and the effect was as pretty
as could be desired. I particularly admired the broad tendrils and
foliage, embroidered in gold. Going nearer, I discovered an ingenious
deception. All that I had taken for gold was, in fact, straw pressed
flat, and glued upon paper, according to some beautiful outlines, while
the ground was painted with lively colours. This is done with such
variety and tact, that the design, which was probably worked in the
convent itself, with a material that was worth nothing, must have cost
several thousand dollars, if the material had been genuine. It might on
occasion be advantageously imitated.
On one of the quays, and in front of the water I have often remarked a
little fellow telling stories in the Venetian dialect, to a greater or
less concourse of auditors. Unfortunately I cannot understand a word,
but I observe that no one laughs, though the audience, who are composed
of the lowest class, occasionally smile. There is nothing striking or
ridiculous in the man's appearance, but, on the contrary, something
very sedate, with such admirable variety and precision in his gestures,
that they evince art and reflection.
* * * * *
_October_ 3.
With my plan in my hand I endeavored to find my way through the
strangest labyrinth to the church of the _Mendicanti._ Here is the
conservatorium, which stands in the highest repute at the present day.
The ladies performed an oratorio behind the grating, the church was
filled with hearers, the music was very beautiful, and the voices were
magnificent. An alto sung the part of King Saul, the chief personage
in the poem. Of such a voice I had no notion whatever; some passages of
the music were excessively beautiful, and the words, which were Latin,
most laughably Italianized in some places, were perfectly adapted for
singing. Music here has a wide field.
[Sidenote: Venice.]
The performance would have been a source of great enjoyment, if the
accursed _Maestro di Capella_ had not beaten time with a roll of
music against the grating, as conspicuously as if he had to do with
school-boys, whom he was instructing. As the girls had repeated the
piece often enough, his noise was quite unnecessary, and destroyed all
impression, as much as he would, who, in order to make a beautiful
statue intelligible to us, should stick scarlet patches on the joints.
The foreign sound destroys all harmony. Now this man is a musician, and
yet he seems not to be sensible of this; or, more properly speaking,
he chooses to let his presence be known by an impropriety, when it
would have been much better to allow his value to be perceived by the
perfection of the execution. I know that this is the fault of the
French, but I did not give the Italians credit for it, and yet the
public seems accustomed to it. This is not the first time that that
which spoils enjoyment, has been supposed to belong directly to it.
* * * * *
_October_ 3.
Yesterday evening I went to the Opera at the S. Moses (for the theatres
take their name from the church to which they lie nearest); nothing
very delightful! In the plan, the music, and the singers, that energy
was wanting, which alone can elevate opera to the highest point. One
could not say of any part that it was bad, but the two female actresses
alone took pains, not so much to act well, but to set themselves off
and to please. That is something, after all. These two actresses have
beautiful figures, and good voices, and are nice, lively, compact,
little bodies. Among the men, on the other hand, there is no trace of
national power, or even of pleasure, in working on the imaginations
of their audience. Neither is there among them any voice of decided
brilliancy.
The ballet, which was wretchedly conceived, was condemned as a whole,
but some excellent dancers and _danseuses_, the latter of whom
considered it their duty to make the spectators acquainted with all
their person charms, were heartily applauded.
* * * * *
_October_ 5.
To-day, however, I saw another comedy, which gave me more pleasure. In
the ducal palace I heard the public discussion of a law case. It was
important, and, happily for me, was brought forward in the holidays.
One of the advocates had all the qualifications for an exaggerated
_buffo._ His figure was short and fat, but supple; in profile his
features were monstrously prominent. He had a stentorian voice, and
a vehemence as if everything that he said came in earnest from the
very bottom of his heart. I call this a comedy, because, probably,
everything had been already prepared when the public exhibition took
place. The judges knew what they had to say, and the parties what they
had to expect. However, this plan pleases me infinitely more than
our hobbling law affairs. I will endeavor to give some notion of the
particulars, and of the neat, natural, and unostentatious manner in
which everything takes place.
In a spacious hall of the palace the judges were sitting on one side,
in a half circle. Opposite to them, in a tribune which could hold
several persons, were the advocates for both parties; and upon a
bench immediately in front of them, the plantiff, and defendant in
person. The advocate for the plaintiff had descended from the tribune,
since there was to be no controversy at this day's sitting. All the
documents, on both sides, were to be read, although they were already
printed.
A lean clerk, in a black scanty gown, and with a thick bundle in
his hand, prepared to perform the office of a reader. The hall was
completely crammed with persons who came to see and to hear. The point
of law itself, and the persons whom it concerned, must have appeared
highly important to the Venetians.
Trust-estates are so decidedly secured in Venice, that a property once
stamped with this character, preserves it for ever, though it may have
been divested ages ago by appropriations or other circumstances, and
though it may have passed through ever so many hands. When the matter
comes into dispute the descendants of the first family recover their
right, and the property must be delivered up.
[Sidenote: Venice.]
On this occasion the discussion was highly important, for the action
was brought against the doge himself, or rather against his wife, who
veiled by her _zendal_, or little hood, sat only at a little distance
from the plaintiff. She was a lady of a certain age, of noble stature,
and with well-formed features, in which there was something of an
earnest, not to say fretful character. The Venetians make it a great
boast that the princess in her own palace, is obliged to appear before
them and the tribunal.