or banquets, but holy and religious solemnities, whereof the first
was in the Church of certaine Nunnes in St. Laurence parish.... This
was celebrated the one and thirtieth of July, being Sunday, where I
heard much singular musicke. The second was on the day of our Ladies
assumption, which was the fifth of August, being Fryday, that day
in the morning I saw the Duke in some of his richest ornaments,
accompanyed with twenty-sixe couple of Senators, in their damaske
long-sleeved gownes, come to Sainte Marks. Also there were Venetian
Knights and Ambassadors, that gave attendance upon him, and the first
that went before him on the right hand, carried a naked sword in his
hand. He himselfe then wore two very rich robes or long garments,
whereof the uppermost was white, of cloth of silver, with great massy
buttons of gold, the other cloth of silver also, but adorned with many
curious workes made in colours with needle worke. His traine was then
holden up by two Gentlemen. At that time I heard much good musicke in
Sainte Markes Church, but especially that of a treble voill which was
so excellent, that I thinke no man could surpasse it. Also there were
sagbuts and cornets as at St. Laurence feast which yeelded passing good
musicke. The third feast was upon Saint Roches day, being Saturday and
the sixth day of August, where I heard the best musicke that ever I did
in all my life both in the morning and the afternoone, so good that
I would willingly goe an hundred miles a foote at any time to heare
the like. The place where it was, is neare to Saint Roches Church, a
very sumptuous and magnificent building that belongeth to one of the
sixe Companies of the citie.... This building hath a marvailous rich
and stately frontispice, being built with passing fair white stone,
and adorned with many goodly pillars of marble. There are three most
beautiful roomes in this building; the first is the lowest, which
hath two rowes of goodly pillars in it opposite to each other which
upon this day of Saint Roch were adorned with many faire pictures of
great personages that hanged round about them, as of Emperours, Kings,
Queenes, Dukes, Duchesses, Popes, etc. In this roome are two or three
faire Altars: For this roome is not appointed for merriments and
banquetings as the halles belonging to the Companies of London, but
altogether for devotion and religion.... The second is very spacious
and large, having two or three faire Altars more: the roofe of this
roome, which is of a stately height, is richly gilt and decked with
many sumptuous embossings of gold, and the walles are beautified with
sundry delicate pictures, as also many parts of the roofe; unto this
room you must ascend by two or three very goodly paire of staires. The
third roome which is made at one corner of this spacious roome, is
very beautifull, having both roofe and wals something correspondent to
the other; but the floore is much more exquisite and curious, being
excellently distinguished with checker worke made of several kinds of
marble, which are put in by the rarest cunning that the wit of man
can devise. The second roome is the place where this festivitie was
solemnized to the honour of Saint Roch, at one end whereof was an
altar garnished with many singular ornaments, but especially with a
great multitude of silver candlesticks, in number sixty, and candles
in them of virgin waxe. This feast consisted principally of Musicke,
which was both vocall and instrumental, so good, so delectable, so
rare, so admirable, so superexcellent, that it did even ravish and
stupifie all those strangers that never heard the like. But how others
were affected with it I know not; for mine owne part I can say this,
that I was for the time even rapt up with Saint Paul into the third
heaven. Sometimes there sung sixeteene or twenty men together, having
their master or moderator to keepe them in order; and when they sung,
the instrumentall musitians played also. Sometimes sixeteene played
together upon their instruments, ten Sagbuts, foure Cornets, and two
Violdegambaes of an extraordinary greatness; sometimes tenne, sixe
Sagbuts and foure Cornets; sometimes two, a Cornet and treble violl.
Of those treble viols I heard three severall there, whereof each
was so good, especially one, that I observed above the rest, that I
never heard the like before. Those that played upon the treble viols,
sung and played together, and sometimes two singular fellowes played
together upon Theorboes, to which they sung also, who yeelded admirable
sweet musicke, but so still that they could scarce be heard but by
those that were very neare them. Those two Theorbists concluded that
night’s musicke, which continued three whole howers at the least. For
they beganne about five of the clocke and ended not before eight. Also
it continued as long in the morning: at every time that every severall
musicke played, the Organs, whereof there are seven faire paire in
that room, standing all in a rowe together, plaied with them. Of the
singers there were three or foure so excellent that I thinke few or
none in Christendome do excell them, especially one, who had such a
peerelesse and (as I may in a manner say) such a supernaturall voice
for such a privilege for the sweetnesse of his voice, as sweetnesse,
that I think there was never a better singer in all the world, insomuch
that he did not onely give the most pleasant contentment that could
be imagined, to all the hearers, but also did as it were astonish and
amaze them.... Truely I thinke that had a Nightingale beene in the same
roome, and contended with him for the superioritie, something perhaps
he might excell him, because God hath granted that little birde such
a priviledge for the sweetnesse of his voice, as to none other: but I
thinke he could not much. To conclude, I attribute so much to this rare
fellow for his singing, that I thinke the country where he was borne,
may be as proude for breeding so singular a person as Smyrna was of her
Homer, Verona of her Catullus, or Mantua of Virgil: But exceeding happy
may that Citie, or towne, or person bee that possesseth this miracle of
nature. These musitians had bestowed upon them by that of Saint Roche
an hundred duckats. Thus much concerning the musicke of those famous
feastes of St. Laurence, the Assumption of our Lady, and Saint Roche.
THOMAS CORYAT (1611).
AN IMPROVISATORE
I had now visited the rich Palace of the Doges, had wandered in the
empty, magnificent halls; seen the chamber of the Inquisition, with
the frightful picture of the torments of hell. I went through a narrow
gallery, over a covered bridge, high upon the roof, above the canals
on which the gondolas glided: this is the way from the Doge’s Palace to
the prisons of Venice. This bridge is called the Bridge of Sighs. Close
beside it lie the wells. The light of the lamps alone from the passage
can force its way between the close iron bars into the uppermost
dungeon; and yet this was a cheerful, airy hall, in comparison with
those which lie lower down, below the swampy cellars, deeper even than
the water outside in the canals; and yet in these unhappy captives had
sighed, and inscribed their names on the damp walls.
‘Air, air!’ demanded my heart, rent with the horrors of this place;
and, entering the gondola, I flew with the speed of an arrow from the
pale-red old palace, and from the columns of St. Theodoret and the
Venetian lion, forth over the living, green water to the lagoons and
Lido, that I might breathe the fresh air of the sea,--and I found a
churchyard.
Here is the stranger, the Protestant, buried, far from his native
country,--buried upon a little strip of land among the waves, which
day by day seem to rend away more and more of its small remains. The
billows alone wept. Here often sat the fisherman’s bride or wife,
waiting for the lover or the husband, who had gone out fishing upon
the uncertain sea. The storm arose, and rested again upon its strong
pinions; and the woman sang Tasso’s songs, and listened to hear whether
the man replied. But Love gave no return in song; alone she sat there,
and looked out over the silent sea. Then, also, her lips became silent;
her eye saw only the white bones of the dead in the sand; she heard
only the hollow booming of the billows, whilst night ascended over the
dead, silent Venice.
The dark picture filled my thoughts, my whole state of mind gave it
a strong colouring. Solemn as a church reminding of graves, and the
invisible saints stood before me the entire scene. Flaminia’s words
resounded in my ear, that the poet, who was a prophet of God, should
endeavour only to express the glorification of God, and that subjects
which tended to this were of the highest character. The immortal soul
ought to sing of the immortal; the glitter of the moment changed its
play of colour, and vanished with the instant that gave it birth.... I
silently entered the gondola, which bore me toward Lido. The great open
sea lay before me, and rolled onward to the shore in long billows. I
thought of the bay of Amalfi.
Just beside me, among sea-grass and stones, sat a young man sketching,
certainly a foreign painter; it seemed to me that I recognized him.
I stepped nearer, he raised his head, and we knew each other. It was
Poggio, a young Venetian nobleman.
‘Signore,’ exclaimed he, ‘you on Lido! Is it the beauty of the scene,
or,’ added he, ‘some other beauty, which has brought you so near to
the angry Adriatic?... Such a blue, billowy plain,’ said he, pointing
to the sea, ‘is not to be found in Rome! The sea is the most beautiful
thing on the earth! It is also the mother of Venus, and,’ added he,
laughing, ‘is the widow of all the mighty Doges of Venice.’
‘The Venetians must especially love the sea,’ said I, ‘regarding it as
their grandparent, who carried them and played with them for the sake
of her beautiful daughter Venetia.’
‘She is no longer beautiful now; she bows her head,’ he replied.
‘But yet,’ said I, ‘she is still happy under her sway of the Emperor
Francis.’
‘It is a prouder thing to be queen upon the sea than a Caryatide upon
land,’ returned he. ‘The Venetians have nothing to complain about, and
politics are what I do not understand, but beauty, on the contrary, I
do; and if you are a patron of it, as I do not doubt but you are, see,
here comes my landlady’s handsome daughter, and inquires whether you
will take part in my frugal dinner.’
We went into the little house close by the shore. The wine was good,
and Poggio most charming and entertaining....
‘You do not sing?’ asked the lady of the house from me, when we had
done.
‘I will have the honour to improvise before you,’ said I, as a thought
entered my mind.
‘He is an improvisatore,’ I heard whispered around me. The eyes of the
ladies sparkled; the gentlemen bowed. I took a guitar, and begged them
to give me a subject.
‘Venice!’ cried a lady, looking boldly into my eyes.
‘Venice!’ repeated the young gentlemen, ‘because the ladies are
handsome!’
I touched a few chords; described the pomp and glory of Venice in the
days of her greatness, as I had read about it, and as my imagination
had dreamed of its being, and all eyes flashed; they fancied that it
was so now. I sang about the beauty in the balcony in the moonlight
night, and every lady imagined I meant it for her, and clapped her
hands in applause.... I sang about the proud sea,--the bridegroom of
Venice; about the sons of the sea,--the bold mariners and fishermen
in their little boats. I described a storm; the wife’s and the
bride’s longing and anxiety; described that which I myself had seen;
the children who had let fall the holy crucifix, and clung to their
mothers, and the old fisherman who kissed the feet of the Redeemer....
And now my heart was wonderously light; the empty canals of Venice and
the old palaces seemed to me beautiful--a sleeping fairy world.
HANS ANDERSEN.
VENICE AND HER CHILDREN
Though Orio had quadrupled the sum he had desired, all the treasures
of the world were nothing to him without a Venice to spend them in. At
that time love of country was a passion so strong, so powerful, that
it influenced all hearts, the vilest as well as the noblest. And truly
there was little merit in loving Venice then,--she was so beautiful, so
powerful, so gay! She was such a bountiful mother to all her children;
such a delightful lover of their glory! Venice gave such caresses to
her triumphant warriors, such glowing praise for their bravery, such
elegant and noble rewards for their prudence, such rare pleasures to
recompense their slightest services! Nowhere else could one find such
splendid feasts, enjoy such luxurious idleness, or plunge at will,
to-day in a whirlwind of pleasure, to-morrow in voluptuous repose.
Venice was the most beautiful city of Europe; the most corrupted and
the most virtuous. The righteous could there be always good, the
vicious always bad. It had sunshine for some, shade for others. While
there were wise institutions and touching ceremonies to proclaim
noble actions, there were also caves, inquisitors and executioners,
to maintain order and subdue dangerous passions. There were days of
triumph and ovation for the virtuous, and nights of debauchery and
excess for the vicious: and in no other part of the world were ovations
so exciting, excesses so poetical. Venice was the natural country for
all strong minds, good or evil. It was the undeniable fatherland of all
who knew it.
GEORGE SAND.
SOCIETY IN EIGHTEENTH-CENTURY VENICE
VENICE, _Oct. 10, 1739_.
I like this place extremely, and am of opinion you would do so too: as
to cheapness, I think ’tis impossible to find any part of Europe where
both the laws and customs are so contrived purposely to avoid expenses
of all sorts; and here is a universal liberty that is certainly one of
the greatest _agrémens_ in life. We have foreign ambassadors from all
parts of the world, who have all visited me. I have received visits
from many of the noble Venetian ladies; and upon the whole I am very
much at my ease here. If I was writing to Lady Sophia, I would tell
her of the comedies and operas which are every night, at very low
prices; but I believe even you will agree with me that they are ordered
to be as convenient as possible, every mortal going in a mask, and
consequently no trouble in dressing, or forms of any kind....
VENICE, _Oct. 14, 1739_.
I find myself very well here. I am visited by the most considerable
people of the town, and all the foreign ministers, who have most of
them made great entertainments for me. I dined yesterday at the
Spanish Ambassador’s, who even surpassed the French in magnificence. He
met me at the hall-door, and the lady at the stair-head, to conduct me
through the long apartment; in short, they could not have shown me more
honours, if I had been an ambassadress. She desired me to think myself
_patrona del casa_, and offered me all the services in her power, to
wait on me where I pleased, etc. They have the finest palace in Venice.
What is very convenient, I hear it is not at all expected I should
make any dinners, it not being the fashion for anybody to do it here
but the foreign ministers; and I find I can live here very genteelly
on my allowance. I have already a very agreeable general acquaintance;
though when I came, here was no one I had ever seen in my life, but
the Cavaliere Grimani and the Abbé Conti. I must do them justice to
say they have taken pains to be obliging to me. The Procurator brought
his niece (who is at the head of his family) to wait on me; and they
invited me to reside with them at their palace on the Brent, but I
did not think it proper to accept of it. He also introduced to me the
Signora Pisani Mocenigo, who is the most considerable lady here. The
Nuncio is particularly civil to me; he has been several times to see
me, and has offered me the use of his box at the opera....
VENICE, _Nov. 6, 1739_.
Upon my word, I have spoken my real thoughts in relation to Venice;
but I will be more particular in my description, lest you should find
the same reason of complaint you have hitherto experienced. It is
impossible to give any rule for the agreeableness of conversation;
but here is so great a variety, I think ’tis impossible not to find
some to suit every taste. Here are foreign ministers from all parts
of the world, who, as they have no court to employ their hours, are
overjoyed to enter into commerce with any stranger of distinction. As
I am the only lady here at present, I can assure you I am courted, as
if I was the only one in the world. As to all the conveniences of life,
they are to be had at very easy rates; and for those that love public
places, here are two playhouses and two operas constantly performed
every night, at exceeding low prices. But you will have no reason to
examine that article, no more than myself; all the ambassadors having
boxes appointed them; and I have every one of their keys at my service,
not only for my own person, but whoever I please to carry or send. I do
not make much use of this privilege, to their great astonishment. It
is the fashion for the greatest ladies to walk the streets, which are
admirably paved; and a mask, price sixpence, with a little cloak, and
the head of a domino, the genteel dress to carry you everywhere. The
greatest equipage is a gondola, that holds eight persons, and is the
price of an English chair. And it is so much the established fashion
for everybody to live their own way, that nothing is more ridiculous
than censuring the actions of another. This would be terrible in
London, where we have little other diversion; but for me, who never
found any pleasure in malice, I bless my destiny that has conducted
me to a part where people are better employed than in talking of the
affairs of their acquaintance. It is at present excessive cold (which
is the only thing I have to find fault with); but in recompense we have
a clear bright sun, and fogs and factions things unheard of in this
climate....
VENICE, _June 1, 1740_.
You seem to mention the regatta in a manner as if you would be pleased
with a description of it. It is a race of boats: they are accompanied
by vessels which they call Piotes, and Bichones, that are built at
the expense of nobles and strangers that have a mind to display their
magnificence; they are a sort of machines adorned with all that
sculpture and gilding can do to make a shining appearance. Several of
them cost one thousand pounds sterling, and I believe none less than
five hundred; they are rowed by gondoliers dressed in rich habits,
suitable to what they represent. There was enough of them to look
like a little fleet, and I own I never saw a finer sight. It would be
too long to describe every one in particular; I shall only name the
principal:--the Signora Pisani Mocenigo’s represented the Chariot of
the Night, drawn by four sea-horses, and showing the rising of the
moon, accompanied with stars, the statues on each side representing
the hours to the number of twenty-four, rowed by gondoliers in rich
liveries, which were changed three times, all of equal richness, and
the decorations changed also to the dawn of Aurora and the midday sun,
the statues being new dressed every time, the first in green, the
second time in red, and the last blue, all equally laced with silver,
there being three races. Signor Soranzo represented the Kingdom of
Poland, with all the provinces and rivers in that dominion, with a
concert of the best instrumental music in rich Polish habits; the
painting and gilding were exquisite in their kinds; Signor Contarini’s
piote showed the Liberal Arts; Apollo was seated on the stern upon
Mount Parnassus, Pegasus behind, and the Muses seated round him:
opposite was a figure representing Painting, with Fame blowing her
trumpet; and on each side Sculpture, and Music in their proper dresses.
The procurator Foscarini’s was the Chariot of Flora guided by Cupids,
and adorned with all sorts of flowers, rose-trees, etc. Signor Julio
Contarini’s represented the Triumphs of Valour; Victory was on the
stern, and all the ornaments warlike trophies of every kind. Signor
Correri’s was the Adriatic Sea receiving into her arms the Hope of
Saxony. Signor Alvisio Mocenigo’s was the Garden of Hesperides; the
whole fable was represented by different statues. Signor Querini had
the Chariot of Venus drawn by doves, so well done, they seemed ready
to fly upon the water; the Loves and Graces attended her. Signor Paul
Doria had the Chariot of Diana, who appeared hunting in a large wood:
the trees, hounds, stag, and nymphs, all done naturally: the gondoliers
dressed like peasants attending the chase: and Endymion, lying under
a large tree, gazing on the goddess. Signor Angelo Labbia represented
Poland crowning of Saxony, waited on by the Virtues and subject
Provinces. Signor Angelo Molino was Neptune waited on by the Rivers.
Signor Vicenzo Morosini’s piote showed the Triumphs of Peace; Discord
being chained at her feet, and she surrounded with the Pleasures,
etc....
I must say one word of the bichonis, which are less vessels, quite
open, some representing gardens, others apartments, all the oars being
gilt either with gold or silver, and the gondolier’s liveries either
velvet or rich silk, with a profusion of lace, fringe, and embroidery.
I saw this show at the Procurator Grimani’s house, which was near the
place where the prizes were delivered: there was a great assembly
invited on the same occasion, which were all nobly entertained.
LADY MARY WORTLEY MONTAGU.
IN VENICE ONCE
In Venice once they lived and loved--
Fair women with their red-gold hair--
Their twinkling feet to music moved,
In Venice where they lived and loved,
And all Philosophy disproved,
While hope was young and life was fair,
In Venice where they lived and loved.
LOUISE CHANDLER MOULTON.
ARCHITECTURE AND ART
Venice is the finest city in the world. What could we wish
for better than its Moorish architecture in white marble
in the midst of the limpid waters, and under a sky truly
magnificent; its people so gay, so heedless, so witty, and
fond of its music; its gondolas, churches, and picture
galleries; those good-looking and elegant women; the
murmurs of the sea breaking upon the ear; the moonlights
nowhere else to be seen; choruses of gondoliers, sometimes
very correct, serenading under every window; cafés full
of Turks and Armenians; fine and spacious theatres where
you can hear Pasta and Donzelli; gorgeous palaces; a Punch
and Judy show far above that of Gustave Malus; delicious
oysters, which you can gather on the steps of every house;
Cyprian wine at twenty-five _sous_ a bottle; flowers in the
heart of winter, and, in the month of February, a heat as
great as that of our month of May?
GEORGE SAND.
Tintoretto, to be rightly understood, must be sought all
over Venice--in the church as well as the Scuola di San
Rocco; in the ‘Temptation of St. Anthony’ at St. Trovaso
no less than in the Temptations of Eve and Christ; in
the decorative pomp of the Scala del Senato, and in the
Paradisal vision of the Scala del Gran Consiglio. Yet,
after all, there is one of his most characteristic moods,
to appreciate which fully we return to the Madonna dell’
Orto. I have called him ‘the painter of impossibilities.’
At rare moments he rendered them possible by sheer
imaginative force.
JOHN ADDINGTON SYMONDS.
THE BIRTH OF VENETIAN ART
Venice ... rose from a lowly and troublous origin to heights of
dazzling grandeur. When the barbarians of the North began their
incursions and devastations into Italy in the fifth century, the
inhabitants of that part of the Peninsula which was called Venetia fled
from the peril to the islands rising in the lagoons of the Adriatic,
where they found peace, safety, and liberty.... The inhospitable
nature of their new home provided the refugees with but two elements
only--and those the most indeterminate and universal--sky and sea.
All the rest, all that we see to-day, has been artificially formed by
the hand of man, who excluded vegetation, animals, every semblance of
living things, and created for himself a world of stone, a landscape
of architecture, and perspective. He has willed that this shall of
itself be beautiful, not from any assistance from Nature, but by force
of art and riches; not a collection of monuments, but one single
monument in itself, and that so sublime and lasting as to admit of no
comparison. The marvel which here strikes the spectator has no other
example, for Venice is altogether the work of human art. An art, too,
which is both poetry and history, and when we think of the history of
those Venetians who became lords of a mighty commerce and conquerors
of provinces, we see, as by an invincible law spreading out before
our imagination, the marble mansions around the Piazza and along the
Grand Canal; we see through the streets of the city a people proud of
the wisdom of their statesmen and of the creations of their painters;
we think of the golden Basilica, of the Palace of the Doges; we evoke
the shapes of Titian, of Paolo Veronese, of Tintoretto.... The art of
painting arose in Italy in the Trecento. This art, of slower growth
than either architecture or sculpture in Venice, only flourished there
well on in the fifteenth century. It must not, however, be concluded
from this that painting was unknown in the early days of Venetian life,
for leaving aside the question as to whether the first mosaicists were
Byzantines or Venetians, it is certain that the art of colours was
displayed with admirable feeling in the mosaics of St. Mark’s. In the
Basilica, which lifts itself to heaven like a sublime hymn and blends
in divine fulness Greek harmony with Eastern splendour, may be found
the school of Venetian painters, the source of their inspiration,
the golden book wherein is entered the pedigree of Venetian art. The
colours sparkle, flash, and throw lightning gleams on to that building
bright with matchless beauty. Mind and eye are alike filled with
amazement and admiration at the sight of the many-hued marbles, the
mosaics, and the gold flung round in regal profusion. Thus, in this
atmosphere of light, like a serene flower, Venetian painting arose,
warm and vivid in colour even when cold and lifeless in expression.
POMPEO MOLMENTI.
_Translated by Alethea Wiel._
A VENETIAN PASTORAL
BY GIORGIONE[4]
Water, for anguish of the solstice,--yea,
Over the vessel’s mouth still widening,
Listlessly dipt to let the water in
With slow, vague gurgle. Blue, and deep away,
The heat lies silent at the brink of day.
Now the hand trails upon the viol-string
That sobs; and the brown faces cease to sing,
Mournful with complete pleasure. Her eyes stray
In distance; through her lips the pipe doth creep
And leaves them pouting; the green shadowed grass
Is cool against her naked flesh. Let be:
Do not now speak unto her lest she weep,
Nor name this ever. Be it as it was:
Silence of heat, and solemn poetry.
DANTE GABRIEL ROSSETTI.
[4] In the Louvre.
GIORGIONE’S HOME
Born half-way between the mountains and the sea--that young George of
Castelfranco--of the Brave Castle: Stout George they called him, George
of Georges, so goodly a boy he was--Giorgione.
Have you ever thought what a world his eyes opened on--fair, searching
eyes of youth? What a world of mighty life, from those mountain roots
to the shore--of loveliest life, when he went down, yet so young, to
the marble city--and became himself as a fiery heart to it?