_Titian’s House--S. Michele in Isola--Murano_
Few parts of Venice have suffered more from the disfigurement wrought by
national decadence, poverty and insensibility than that now bounded by
the _Fondamente nuove_. In the sixteenth century this was one of the
most charming quarters of the city. Here stood the smaller pleasure
palaces of the patricians, with delicious gardens sloping down to the
sea, whither they could retire after the business of the day to refresh
themselves and entertain their friends. The gardens gave on that
exquisite prospect where:--
“the hoar
And aëry Alps towards the north appeared
Thro’ mist an heaven-sustaining bulwark reared
Between the east and west; and half the sky
Was roofed with clouds of rich emblazonry.”
At evening over the face of the waters, fanned by the cooling breezes
of the north, glided the “black Tritons” of the lagoons, graced by the
wit and fashion and beauty of Venice. Salutation and repartee were
winged with laughter from mouth to mouth, and stanza alternating with
stanza of Tasso’s noble verse answered each other in song over the
rippling sea. Titian’s palace,[117] where the master entertained all who
were celebrated in art and literature, stood near the present
Fondamenta. While the tables were being laid the guests were taken to
see his great collection of pictures, then for a stroll about his
beautiful gardens. The banquet was arranged with delightful art; tables
were loaded with the most delicate viands and the most precious wines;
music of sweet voices and many instruments accompanied the feast.
Pleasures and amusements followed, suited to the season and the guests,
until midnight closed the revelry.
[Illustration: MURANO]
There was no brick wall then fencing about the fair island of S. Michele
with its beautiful churches, cloisters and gardens; no cloud of coal
smoke fouling the atmosphere of Murano, it too adorned with palaces and
lovely pleasaunces.
We make our way to the ferry steamer for Murano, which leaves the
Fondamente Nuove every quarter of an hour. How has the glory of Murano
departed--_Muranum delitiae et voluptas civium Venetorum!_ Its palaces
and pleasure grounds are said by an anonymous writer of the seventeenth
century[118] to be beautiful beyond description. Spacious chambers and
banqueting halls were hung with tapestry wrought with scenes from the
Punic wars, and furnished with the most precious and ornate productions
of Venetian craftsmen. Delicious gardens were traversed by artfully
designed paths and provided with arbours of interlaced foliage;
fountains, fish-ponds, cool grottos adorned with coral and shells in
charming taste, pastures gay with the manifold colours of flowers, and
trees bearing choicest fruits. Classic peristyles and _exedræ_,
decorated with paintings and arabesques, afforded shelter from the heat
of the sun or from rain, and invited to quiet converse.
On gaining the island of Murano we follow the Fondamenta Vetrai and soon
reach the church of S. Pietro Martire, which possesses Giov. Bellini’s
altar-piece (1488), the Virgin and Child, to whom St Mark presents Doge
Agostino Barbarigo. Notwithstanding the clumsiness of restorers this
remains one of the most precious of Venetian paintings.
We continue along the Fondamenta, and cross the Ponte Vivarini to the
ancient basilica of SS. Mary and Donatus. Legend tells of the Emperor
Otho I. caught in a fearful storm, and vowing, if saved, to build a
church to the Virgin, who appeared to him in a vision and indicated this
very triangular space, bright with a mass of red lilies, as the chosen
spot. To the basilica of S. Maria here erected, Doge Dom. Michele gave
in 1125 the body of S. Donatus and the bones of the slain dragon, which
are still suspended over the high altar. The story of the saint, as
related by the worthy sacristan of the church with dramatic gestures, is
as follows:--A terrible dragon once devastated Cephalonia, devouring the
inhabitants and poisoning the waters of the river up which it swam. The
good bishop Donatus determined to rid the land of the monster, and,
accompanied by his clergy, went towards the river to confront it. On its
appearance the clergy fled, but the saint boldly advanced alone and
spat at the beast, which at once fell dead. Donatus then took a cup, and
drinking of the water of the river, found it pure and sweet, called back
his clergy and showed them the dead monster.
The exterior of the apse, with its masterly decoration of coloured brick
and marble so lovingly described by Ruskin in the “Stones of Venice,” is
one of the most interesting examples of twelfth century Lombard
architecture in North Italy.
We enter and note the rare and precious pavement of the church which is
finer even than that of St Mark’s. Much of it has been broken up and
reset, but enough has remained undisturbed to rejoice the eye of the
traveller. The quaint designs are wrought of opus Alexandrinum,
porphyry, _verde antico_ and mosaic. A favourite subject is that of two
cocks bearing between them a fox with feet bound--the triumph of
watchfulness over cunning. The date, September 1, 1140, may still be
read on the pavement in the middle of the nave near the main entrance.
The tall, solitary figure of the Virgin in the act of blessing in the
apse is a twelfth-century mosaic. An example of Sebastiani’s
work--Virgin and Child with the Baptist, St Donatus and the donor
(1484)--will be found in the L. aisle.
The local museum possesses a unique collection of Venetian glass of the
finest period by the Berovieri family and the Dalmatian Zorzi il
Ballerin, some of the ancient luminous red glass contrasted with a
modern imitation, and a Libro d’Oro with genealogies of members of this,
the closest of the guilds of Venice (p. 213). Descendants of the
Berovieri still work for Salviati.