1^:4^ ¦«.C r->,^,',/*i ^bP smmsmm BY THE SAME AUTHOR BEAUTIFUL BOOKS with illustrations in colour Price 20s. net each japan WORLD'S CHILDREN WORLD PICTURES DURBAR WAR impressions WHISTLER AS I KNEW HIM Square Imperial Octavo (11x8^ inches) Price 40s. net a. & c. black . 4 soho square . london VENICE THE ILLUSTRATIONS IN THIS VOLUME WERE ENGRAVED AND PRINTED AT THE MENPES PRESS UNDER THE SUPERINTENDENCE OF THE ARTIST Agents in America THE MACMILLAN COMPANY 66 Fifth Avenue, New York CROSSING THE PIAZZA iiiVENicE:: : BY MORTIMER MENPES TEXT BY DOROTHY MENPES PUBLISHED BY ADAM AND CHARLES BLACK LONDON W Published May 1 904 CONTENTS Arrival and First Impressions 3 History 17 A Glimpse into Bohemia . 39 Architecture .... . 55 St. Mark's .... 77 Painters of the Renaissance . 91 Streets, Shops, and Courtyards 125 The Islands of the Lagoon 149 Social Ups and Downs 173 Gondolas and Gondoliers 193 1. LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS Crossing the Piazza Frontisfii iece FACING PAGE 2. Grand Canal, showing Tower of St. Geremia . . 2 3. A Pink Palace 4 4. Palazzo Pisani ........ 6 5. The Salute at Sunset 8 6. A Chioggia Fishing Boat 10 7. A Ruined Palazzo 12 8. Palazzi on the Canal 14 9. Giudecca I6 10. The Pink Bridge 18 11. San Giorgio Maggiore 20 12. Off the Giudecca 22 13. All Saints Quay at St. Trovaso 24 14. St. Maria delle Misericordia ..... 26 15. The Custom House and Church of Santa Maria della Salute 28 l6. At Chioggia 30 17. Church of San Geremia 32 ] 8. The Bridge of Sighs and Straw Bridge ... 34 19. On the Grand Canal S6 20. The Bridge of Sighs 38 21. Early Morning 40 22. Palace in a By-Canal 42 vii List of Illustrations 23. The Orange Door 24. An Old Doorway 25. An Unfrequented Canal 26. St. Mark's Basin 27. Hotel Danieli . 28. Porta della Carta 29. Grand Canal looking towards the Dogana 30. A Famous Palazzo 31. Entrance to the Grand Canal 32. Panorama seen from St. Mark's Basin 33. The Dogana and Salute 34. Palazzo Contarini degli Scrigni 35. Church of the Jesuits 36. Santa Maria della Salute 37. Palazzo Mengaldo 38. Ospedale Civile 39. St. Mark's 40. Palazzo Danieli 41. Francesca. 42. The Dogana 43. St. Mark's Piazza 44. Scuola di San Marco 45. A Quiet Waterway 46. I Trei Ponti 47. Canal Priuli 48. Late Aftemoon 49. Osmarin Canal . 50. San Giorgio Maggiore 51. A Sotto Portico 52. At the Mouth of the Grand Canal 53. The Fountain . viii FACING PAGE 44 48 5052 54 5658 6062 64 66 68 7072 7476 78 80 82 848688 90 929496 98 100102 104106 List of Illustrations PACING PAGE 54. A Narrow Canal 108 55. Bridge near the Palazzo Labia 110 56. The House with the Blue Door 112 57. Canal in Giudecca Island . 114 58. The Orange Sail 118 59. A Quiet Rio . 120 60. Humble Quarters 122 6l. Rio di San Marina 124 62. A Squero or Boat-building Yard 126 63. The Weekly Wash . 128 64. A Back Street .... 130 65. A Factory Girl .... 132 66. Household Cares 136 67. The Wooden Spoon Seller 138 68. In the Market Place . 140 69- Work Girls .... 142 70. Bead Stringers .... 144 71. On the Lagoon 148 72. Chioggia Fish Market 150 73. The Lido 152 74. Chioggia 154 75. A Fisherman of the Lagoon 156 76. In Murano .... 158 77. Mrs Eden's Garden in Venice . 160 78. Timber Boats from the Shores of the Adriatic 1 62 79. Shipping off the Giudecca 162 80. Midday on the Lagoon 163 81. By a Squero or Boat-building Yard . 1 64 82. In a Side Street, Chioggia 166 83. Santa Maria della Salute . 168 84. Fishermen of the Marina . 170 List of Illustrations 85. Rio e Chiesa degli Ognissanti . 86. A CampieUo ..... 87. Fishing Boats from Chioggia . 88. A Woman of the People . 89. Chioggia 90. The Boat-building Yard at San Trovaso 91. Midday on the Grand Canal . 92. The Fish Market .... 93. Midday on the Lagoon . 94. A Traghetto 95. Marietta 96. Bambino. ..... 97. A Squero or Boat-building Yard in Venice 98. Under the Midday Sun . 99. A Festa 100. The Rialto FACING PAGE174176 178180 184 186 188 190 196 200 204208212 214 216 218 ARRIVAL AND FIRST IMPRESSIONS GRAND CANAL, SHOWING TOWER OF ST. GEREMIA ARRIVAL AND FIRST IMPRESSIONS There is no city more written about, more painted, and more misrepresented, than Venice. Students, poets, and painters have combined in reproducing her many charms. UsuaUy, however, Venice is described in a hurried, careless way : the subject is seldom gone deeply into, and studied as it should be, before attempting to compile a book. It is only one who has been there, and observed the life and characteristics of the people for years, who can gain any true perception of their character. Those who have not been to Venice must needs know by heart her attractions, which have been so persistently thrust before the public ; but unless half a dozen really excellent books have been read concerning her, the city of their imaginations must be a theatrical Venice, unreal and altogether false. NormaUy one feels that the last word about 4 VENICE ^^enice has been said — the last chord struck upon her keyboard, the last harmony brought out. But this is by no means the case. There are chords StiU to be struck, and harmonies still to be brought out : her charm can never be exhausted. The last chord struck, no matter how poorly executed it may be, goes on vibrating in our ears, and aU unconsciously we are listening for another. How strange this is ! Why should it be so ? ^^'^hat other cities impress us in the same way ? Oxford perhaps, and Rome certainly. These are the only two which come to my mind at the ¦moment. They are the cities of the soul, round which endless romantic histories cling, endless dear and glorious associations. Perhaps the reason why one never tires of books on Venice, or of pictures of Venice, is that they none of them fulfil one's desires and expectations — they never express just what one feels about her — ^there is always something left unsaid, something uninterpreted ; and one is always waiting for that. It is impossible to ex press aU one feels with regard to Venice. One feels one's own incompetence terribly. Try as you may, you can only give one day, one hour, one aspect of sea and sky, only the four seasons, not aU the myriad changes between; — only four A PINTC PALACE ARRIVAL— FIRST IMPRESSIONS 5 times of the day — dawn, mid-day, twilight, and night — not the thousand melting changes, not the continual variations. It is not a panorama, not a magnificent view permanent before one's gaze. The cloud forms will never be quite the same as you see them at a certain moment ; the water wiU never be again of that particular shade of green ; the reflection of a pink palace, with the black barge at its base laden with golden fruit, will never again be thrown upon the water quite in that same way ; there wiU not always be that warm golden light bathing sea and sky and palace ; that particular pearly-grey mist in the early morning wiU never recur, never quite that deep blue-black of night with the orange lights and the steely water. When one lives in Venice one becomes absol utely in sympathy with the place. One feels her beautiful colour ; but it is quite another story when one comes to reproduce it. Words cannot describe nor brush portray it. Thousands have attempted to paint Venice ; but few have suc ceeded. The Venetians themselves, loving their country, painted her continuaUy ; but even they could only give one aspect of her. The pictures of Venice by Venetian masters are chiefly of her 6 VENICE pomp and glory, her State functions and her water fetes. However, one finds marveUous gUmpses of landscape work in some of the great masterpieces — sweeps of sky above the heads of some of the Madonnas, skies in which one can feel the shimmer of light so characteristic of Venice, the blending of the tones and the flaming glory of the sunset sky. Turner, too, caught the radiant, shimmering, bright and opalescent qualities of the lagoon scenery ; but even his palette could not cope with the ever-changing colour. One must be either hot or cold with regard to ^''enice. You cannot be lukewarm. The magic of her spell begins to work upon you immediately you arrive. Most of us imagine what the place AviU be like before we reach it. We people it in our dreams, and visualise it for ourselves — canals, palaces, streets, the general appearance of things. This imaginary city has no foundations save those which are suppUed by pictures and .stories. One's first impressions are always those which one remembers longest, and one's first impressions of Venice are surpassingly beautiful. In the train, arriving, you catch gUmpses of flashes of light in the darkness, more strangely fantastic than any- PALAZZO PISANI ARRIVAL— FIRST IMPRESSIONS 7 thing you could imagine ; you traverse a long causeway stretching over the lagoon ; you see the water on either side of you, jet black, stretching on indefinitely ; the train seems to float on air ; you cannot see the bridge — nothing but sky and water. You arrive at a large terminal station, and step into the gondola which is to take you into Venice. Into most cities one arrives in a whirl and shriek of engines amid smoke and bustle ; but Venice is different. One arrives in a gondola. The water is of a clear pale green ; the banks are scrubby grass and mud. One watches the sUver prow of the gondola as it shoots forward, the sea air blowing keen and salt. You reaUse that you are in a wide canal, and that there are buildings on either side of you, looming up white and gaunt, with here and there a lantern gUmmering at their base. It is strange to see a city rising thus out of the sea. Venice seems double : one sees it in the substance and in the reflections on the water. After gliding along for some time you turn up narrow water lanes, devious and branching, running by low stonework, very complicated in their turn ings. There are doors with water creeping up their steps, striped posts looking like spectres, and 8 VENICE arches everywhere. Strange figures, like phantoms in a dream, appear m the gloom ; black gondolas, Uke funeral biers, Ue sUently at the base of the houses; and the water laps duUy at the steps. The sUence of the waterways is deathUke after the rush and noise of a long journey ; each shape that passes looks ghostly in the dim light ; it is like a city of eternal sleep, a city of death. What a perfect background it would make for melodrama or for tragedy ! No crime or intrigue could be too terrible to happen within those unfathomable shadows ! A brigand might pass within that heavy half-opened oak door silently and unnoticed. A corpse with a stUetto buried in its breast might be gUding by in that black gondola. One would be quite surprised and somewhat shocked on Uft ing the felce to discover a fat and florid tradesman retuming fi-om supper with a friend. Venice is not a fitting background for such a sordid every day scene. She is much better suited to the romances of Maturin, LcAvis, and Ann Radcliffe ; to the Great Bandit, the stories of the Three Inquisitors, the Council of Ten, masked spies, and pitfaUs. In the daytime one recognises Venice as the Venice of Canaletto, of Bonington, and of WUd. THE SALUTE AT SUNSET ARRIVAL— FIRST IMPRESSIONS 9 There is that same vague, luminous atmosphere, fuU of rays and mists ; the coming and going of gondolas or gaUots ; the landing-place of the Piazzetta, with its Gothic lanterns ornamented by figures of the saints, fixed on poles and sunk into the sea ; the vermilion fa9ade of the Ducal Palace, lozenged with white and rose marble, its massive piUars supporting a gaUery of small columns. With all this one has been familiar through the pictures of the masters whom I have mentioned ; but the real Venice is still more beautiful, stiU more wonderful, still more fantastic. If you cUmb up on any height and look down upon the lagoon, you wiU see a sight never to be forgotten. You will imagine that it is a dream which has taken shape, a vision of fairy-land. The sea is dotted vidth craft of all kinds. There is a continuous movement of boats — gondolas, sailing vessels, and steam-boats pouring forth volumes of black smoke and making a disturbance on the peaceful lagoon. The water is limpid, the Ught radiant ; a row of stakes on the lagoon marks the channels which are navigable for ships. There is the island of San Giorgio, with its red steeple, its white basUica, surrounded by a girdle of boats, and looking like a sheet of burnished 10 VENICE silver. There is the Giudecca, a maritime suburb of Venice, turning towards the city a row of houses and towards the sea a belt of gardens ; it has two churches, Santa Maria and the Redentore. There is San Clemate, at the back of the Giudecca, a place of penitence and of detention for priests under discipline ; Poreglia, where the vessels are quarantined ; and the little island of St. Peter, almost invisible in the distance. The only black cupola is that of St. Simeon the Less. Those of the other churches are silvery. The clouds and the islands seem to mingle one with the other, and are as baffling as the mirage in a desert. On a fine day in Venice there is a certain brilliant crystalline clearness sharpening every outline ; every tower and dome stands out sharp and clear against the sky, making the colours burn. There is colour everjrwhere: even the islands in the distance are blue and distinct. There is colour in the groups that saunter by, in the sapphire water, and in the cloudless heavens. The air is warm and stiU ; the streets are fuU of people, walking and loitering at the doors of the shops; sunbeams dance on the rippling water; spring is everjnvhere. As evening comes on the colours grow richer and deeper ; scarlet clouds float across A CHIOGGIA FISHING BOAT ARRIVAL— FIRST IMPRESSIONS 11 the amber sky ; the canal takes on the hues of the upper air, and is a rippling mass of liquid topaz and molten gold, in rapid succession changing from gold to orange, and from orange to deepest crimson. In the soft hazy light, against the rose tone of the sky, the cupolas of the islands and the palaces seem to float, shimmering with the hues of mother-of-pearl, mysterious, dream-like, not like solid stone. The soft lap of the water breaks the sUence ; the vaporous mists float upwards. Across the light drifts a line of fishing boats, their great brown sails set. A streak of flame-colour strikes on the windows of Venice, a flush of orange and rose. Then in a second the sun is gone, and a brief space of doubt ensues, when day hangs trem bling in the balance ; then night settles on the lagoon. A hundred bells ring out over the city, clashing and clamouring together in one brazen peal. Soon the peal subsides. The evening breeze springs up mUd and sweet from the sea, and the soft and mellow cry of " Stall ! Ah StaU ! " is heard everywhere. It is the hour when aU that is poor and unlovely melts into ethereal beauty. The water is a deep blue-black, save for rippling trails of Ught from the lamps, which shine like golden stars from the prows of the gondolas. The 12 VENICE moon rises, nearly fuU, and is veUed by hazy clouds; the outlines of the beU towers of the palaces are pale and delicate in the soft Ught. The StiUness of the water streets is soothing, and the prattle of the city falls gently on the ears. No matter how prosaic or how unimpressionable one may be, one soon grows into sympathy with the atmosphere of Venice. It is almost impossible to avoid becoming sentimental as one floats in one's gondola at night, with the twinkling stars above and the twinkling splashes below. One almost unconsciously builds romances round the palaces tottering to decay. Venice is always ready to charm and allure you. It is hard to beUeve that somewhere there is a working, active, busy Ufe going on. But indeed no one in Venice seems to be in earnest. It is as if the present time does not count, as if it were but an echo of what passed long years ago. People work without aim or energy, and when they suffer it seems as if they were but mumming. A sweetness and a dociUty steal into one's soul, and one feels that one can do nothing but drift on for ever in this pleasant idleness. Harsh voices become modulated ; cross-grained, querulous natures are sweetened ; even the flat-faced, spectacled tourists. A RUINED PALAZZO ARRIVAL— FIRST IMPRESSIONS 13 when they step from the railway station into a gondola and gUde into the mystic water city, alive with a myriad glistening lights, develop unconsciously, and despite themselves, into delight ful people. On the day when I arrived in Venice, as I was wandering down a lane beyond the Canareggio Canal, I found myself in the Jewish part of the city. It is a fetid and pestUential place. There is about it nothing pleasant, or wholesome, or attrac tive. The stonework is cracked and rotten. The houses, streaked with dirt, bend over into the water with the weight of years. Most of them are nine stories high, grimy and dirty, and speckled with green spots. There is not a straight line anywhere, and not a whole pane of glass — ^paper is the substitute. Now and then one sees a patch of plaster on a house ; but for the most part the plaster has fallen away, revealing the crumbly red bricks beneath. It gives one a sickening feeUng — this terrible poverty, soUtude, and neglect. Every thing is strange, sullen, mysterious. Men and women with curved noses and eyes set Uke burning coals in their pale faces glide noiselessly along with furtive glances. The children are half naked, and play about on benches in the streets. I have 14 VENICE seen poverty-stricken Jewish quarters before, but never anything so sad as this. The sordidness and terrible despair of it make one's heart ache. There are no green fields and trees to alleviate the misery of the people. Yet, I suppose, the con dition of the Jew was worse in the old days. Certainly the injustices and insults which once were prevalent do not occur now. The Christian to-day is on more or less friendly terms with the Jew. They meet one another on the exchange ; they talk together, and partake of each other's hospitality. The Christian may despise the Jew ; but he has the grace to keep the feeling to himself, for the Jew possesses a great part of the trade of the city, and in money matters has ever the upper hand. He is educated, intellectual, patriotic, and calls himself a Venetian. If he is rich he lives in a fine new house on the Grand Canal and is owner of other houses. An instinct of the poorer class of Jews in Venice is to set up pawnshops and lend money to tradesmen in times of necessity. The Jews are decidedly useful. In the old days they were driven into exile; but they were soon called back. They were made to wear a yellow badge, distinguishing them from Christians. They PALAZZI ON THE CANAL ARRIVAL— FIRST IMPRESSIONS 15 were not aUowed to buy houses or lands, or to exercise any trade or profession excepting that of medicine. They were given a dwelling-place in the dirtiest, unhealthiest part of the city, and called it a Ghetto, meaning a congregation. It was walled in. The gates were kept by Christian guards, who were paid by the Jews, and opened the doors at dawn, closing them at sunset. The Jews were not allowed to emerge on hoUdays or feast days, and two barges fuU of armed men watched them night and day. A special magistracy had charge of their affairs. Their dead were buried in the sand on the sea shore. Thither the baser of the Venetians made it a habit to go on Mondays in September, to dance and make merry on the graves. The Jews were made to pay tribute to Venice every third year. In spite of aU hardships and deprivations, they flourished. As the Christians became poor, the Jews waxed rich. They were not again expeUed from the city. They were never disturbed in their Ghetto by actual iU-treatment and violence, ex cepting on one occasion, when a charge was brought against them of chUd murder. So the Jews lived peacefuUy in their own quarter untU, with the advent of modern civUisation, their prison walls 16 VENICE crumbled away, and some of them went forth from the Ghetto and fixed their habitations in different parts of the city. Many Jewish famiUes, however, cling to the spot made sacred for them by so much suffering and humiliation. Even to this day, although the Jews are distributed every where throughout the length and breadth of Venice, never a Christian comes to dwell in the Ghetto. Very many Jews stiU live there. Some of the women are handsome, with Oriental grace, delicate, sensitive, highly bred. The only time when the Ghetto has at all a picturesque appear ance is the autumn. Then the air is filled with white floating particles, feathers of geese, which seem to be plucked by the whole force of the populace. You see on every doorstep groups of Hebrew youths plucking geese, and on looking into the interior you will observe strings of the birds suspended from the rafters, while an odour of roast goose greets your nostrUs wherever you may go. GIUDECCA HISTORY THE PINK BRIDGE HISTORY With her pomp and pageantry, her wealth of art, her learned academies, her schools of paint ing, and her sumptuous style, Venice at the prime of her Ufe was great, dazzling, splendid. Her navy was supreme. Her nobles were the richest in Europe. This opulence and this pride led to her downfaU. She was unable to resist the temp tation of building herself an empire on the main land, thereby causing jealousy among the other ItaUan States. Rome became fearful of her own safety, and, with the intention of crushing the RepubUc, formed the League of Cambray. Rome did not achieve her object ; but Venice was weakened by the blow, and misfortune after misfortune fell upon her. The passage round the Cape of Good Hope was discovered ; which took commercial trade with the East out of her hands, and left her no longer the mart of Europe. 19 20 VENICE Then came the great battles with the Turk, in which both blood and money of Venice flowed in vain. Europe was either powerless or too indifferent to help. Gradually the strength of Venice was broken. She declined and sank. Still, the rigidity and the power of endurance of the Venetian constitution were marvellous. She kept a semblance of life long after the heart had ceased to beat. The constitution of the State was the most elaborate imaginable, and not easily brought to nothing. Nevertheless, although there were occasional flashes of the old brilliancy of Venice, her day was over. The last of her Doges yielded the State to Napoleon without a blow. Laying the ducal biretta on the table, he called to his servants, " Take it away : I shaU not use it more." When the first refugees came from the mainland and started life on the islands of the Archipelago, the mud-banks of Torcello and Rivoalto, they Uttle thought that they were founding a city which was to be the admiration of the whole world, that her navy would ride supreme in all known waters, that Venice was to be the pride of the Adriatic. When those early people, the Veneti, from whom the Venetians take their name, SAN GIORGIO MAGGIORE HISTORY 21 drove in their first stakes and built their wattled walls, they could not have foretold that this was to be the greatest of mediaeval republics, the centre of the commerce of Europe. Nature helped Venice handsomely. Had the channels been deeper, men-of-war might have entered and conquered the city. Had the waves been stronger, the airy structure that we know as Venice would have been supplanted by the ordinary commercial seaport. Had there been no tide, for sanitary reasons the city would have been uninhabitable. Had the tide risen any higher than it rose, there would have been no water entrances to the palaces, the by-canals would have been fiUed up, and the character of the placb spoiled. One's imagination is inclined to run riot in Venice. One gilds, and romances, and fills the city with pomp and pageantry, ornamenting the canals with State barges, the piazza with noble men and fair women, and the Ducal Palace with iUustrious Doges. But far more interesting is it to see Venice as she reaUy is, in her own simple strength. Think of the more rugged Venice, that city buUt by strong and patient men against such terrible odds, and in so wUd and solitary a spot. In order to gain some idea of Venice as she was in 22 VENICE those early days, it is well to go out in a gondola at low tide, when the canal is a plain of seaweed. As your gondola makes its way down a narrow channel, you have some conception of the diffi culties with which the founders of Venice had to contend. To the narrow strips of land, long ridges guarding the lagoon from the sea, ill sheltered from the waves, the few hundred stragglers came. Their capital, Padua, had been destroyed by the northern hordes, and they took shelter in the islands of the lagoon. So desolate and wind-swept were these islands that one can scarcely imagine men disput ing possession of them with the flocks of sea-birds. They were impelled by no whim, however: they were exiles driven by necessity. Here they looked for a temporary home, lived much as the sea-birds lived, and were quite fearless. The soil, composed chiefly of dust, ashes, and bitumen, with here and there a layer of salt, was rich and fertUe. This was in the fifth century of our era, of which period there are but few Venetian records. Still, one thing is certain : the Veneti were not a primitive or barbarous people. Fugitives as they were, they were for the most part of high birth and associations. They had character and inteUigence. In their mud huts they possessed OFF THE GIUDECCA HISTORY 23 a social distinction and a political training such as would have graced the most sumptuous of palaces. In quite early days they began to put their heads together and to form a definite system of polity. Year by year the little community was added to. Battle and bloodshed continued on the mainland, and men and women flocked to the islands. It is curious to notice how rank and social distinction assert themselves. Blood will out. Wherever human beings are gathered together, whether on the islands of the Adriatic or on those of the South Seas, and however sorry their pUght or great their general misfortune, different grades wiU become visible. Men and women will place themselves one above the other, the master and the man, the mistress and the maid — such is the law of humanity aU the world over. Calamity did not in the long run have much effect upon the higher class of refugees, and the position of the lower classes was not bettered. Sympathy had levelled social distinctions for a time ; but that was not for long. Soon, in the natural course of events, when the Uttle colony grew into a city, and the origin of the Veneti had faded almost into a tradition, the various ranks became distinct. True, they lived as sea-birds live, one kind of food common to both. 24 VENICE and one kind of house sheltering both; but the poor man and the rich did not live in equaUty. As the community grew in importance they began to cultivate their islands and to buUd unto themselves ships. By force of necessity, they be came expert in aU matters of navigation, as agile on the water as on land, fearless. They acquired a better means of navigation and a wider know ledge of the lagoons than any other State possessed. Then they began to be attacked. With great courage and determination, Venice resisted aU her foes — Gothic, Lombard, Byzantine, and Frank. Her position was pecuUar, vague. She acknow ledged a certain allegiance to the Court of Byzan tium ; yet by her acts she recognised the supremacy of the kingdoms on the mainland. Neither By zantium nor Ravenna, and not Padua, could claim the lagoons. Venice was marveUously diplomatic. She drew from East and West exactly what she wanted to make her a nation by herself. WhUe she pretended allegiance to several empires, she was in reality struggling for independence. In the StiUness of the lagoon and the fi-eedom of the sea air, the germs of individuality grew and flourished. ' They had a congenial soU and fitting nutriment. It is wonderfuUy interesting to watch the progress ALL SAINTS QUAY AT ST. TROVASO. HISTORY 25 of the little State — the diplomatic way she went to work : how when she was weak and unable to stand alone she feigned aUegiance to a stronger Power, yet -never bound herself by written word ; how she played one Power against the other ; and how in the end, when sufficiently strong, under the shelter of her various foster-mothers, she struck out for freedom boldly. There is a letter from Cassiodorus, Prefect of Theodoric the Great, which throws light upon the relations of Venice with the Goths. Theodoric endeavoured to veil his power over Venice under the guise of aUiance or of hospitality. At the time of the famine in 520 he came to their rescue with provisions. This gave him a certain hold over the Venetian people. It imposed upon them a debt which was not to be easily discharged. A letter written by Cassiodorus in 523 is neither more nor less than a demand to the Venetians to bring supplies of oil, wine, and honey, which the islands possessed, to the Goths. The letter, which is of florid style, is one long sneer veiled in delicate flattery. Cassiodorus explains that the Venetians own certain ships, that they are weU built, that the sea is an easy path to them ; and he begs that the vessels wiU transport the tributes of Istria to the 26 VENICE shores of his country. By this letter one realises that the Venetians had already a reputation as pilots and mariners, and knew well how to thread in and out the channels of the lagoons. Theodoric was a generous and powerful neighbour, and the only homage the Venetians could give the Goths in return was their water service ; but they felt their weakness and dependence deeply, and were continuaUy waiting for an opportunity to better their position. Consequently, when the war broke out, after Theodoric's death, between his successors and the Greek Emperor, the Venetians struggled to make themselves of value, and took an active share in the operations. They sided with the Lombards, and conveyed a large reinforcement of Lombard mercenaries tp their destination. That was the beginning of their intimate connection with Constantinople. Two churches were erected in commemoration of the services of the islanders. These were built of costly materials, probably obtained from buildings on the mainland which were partially destroyed by the invaders. The Venetians were enabled to transport these treasures in their ships. Much to the anger of the Paduans, Venice was growing very rapidly, and was gradually, by sheer ST. MARIA DELLE .MISERICORDIA HISTORY 27 competence, absorbing all the coast and river trade. Longinus paid a visit to Venice, begging that she would procure means of transport for his people. This was granted ; but he endeavoured to force the Venetians to accept the suzerainty of his master, which was immediately refused in a grand and sovereign manner. The Venetians declared that, amid much toU and labour, and in the face of many hardships from Hun, Vandal, Goth, and Lombard, God had helped and protected them in order that they might continue to live in the watery marshes. They proudly stated that this group of islands was an ideal habitation, and that no power of emperor or prince should take it from them. It was im possible to attack them, they maintained, unless by the sea ; and of that they were assured masters. This reception must have impressed Longinus. In place of a weak Uttle State requiring the protection of his country, he found the Venetians a fierce and self-reUant people. He could obtain only a very vague promise fi-om the diplomatic Venetians. They would acknowledge the Emperor as over lord, they said, but only on their word of honour : they would take no oath of fealty. Still, the rule of the Lombard over Venice was of longer duration than that of any other State. 28 VENICE A great trouble beset Venice at about this period. When the first settlers began work on the islands, each little group had a separate life, its people re taining as far as possible the customs, the reUgion, and the constitution of their ruined homes on the mainland. The largest townships which sprang up on the Lido were Heraclea, Jesolo, and Malamocco. These graduaUy grew together into a federation of twelve communes, each governed by its own tribune ; and the tribunes had regularly a general assembly for the settlement of such business as affected the common interests of the lagoon. Jealousy and civil feuds, however, sprang up among the islanders, as one after another en deavoured to acquire supremacy. Heraclea tried to take the lead, and to destroy Jesolo ; but she in her turn was attacked, and razed to the ground, by Malamocco. The civU trouble weU-nigh caused the destruction of Venice. The tribunes intrigued ; famUy rose against family, clan against clan ; and there was terrible bloodshed. For nearly two years and a half the Republic was in anarchy. The constitutional evil sapped the general prosperity, obstructed trade and industries, and brought pro perty to havoc. Had it continued much longer, the people would have fi-ittered their strength away THE CUSTOM HOUSE AND CHURCH OF SANTA MARIA DELLA SALUTE HISTORY 29 in private quarrels, and the State of Venice might never have emerged ; but pressure from the main land was brought to bear on Venice, and it became necessary for the various committees to consolidate as one body and sweep away the perUs that were confronting them. The Lombards were becoming bolder and bolder. The Monarchy grew and grew, and at last the Republic of Venice feared that it might desire to add the islands of the Adriatic to its dominions. This awoke Venice from lethargy. It was the peril of the sea that formed and completed her. The pressure was very severe. East and West were beginning to ask her very plainly to choose on which side and under whose protection she intended to place herself, and they did not intend to wait long for an answer. Venice, subtle and diplomatic, put off" the evU hour as long as she possibly could ; but her policy became obvious soon. She could no longer feign fealty first to one Empire and then to another, and meanwhUe struggle for inde pendence. The time had come for action. The critical moment was at hand. Either she must put herself under protection of the East or of the West, or declare her independence. Any course was dangerous, perhaps fatal. Out of the three 30 VENICE possible issues, Venice chose the most perilous, severing herself from both East and West. The result was fortunate. Thrown upon her own resources, she saved herself by energy. King Pippin invited Venice to join in a war. Venice refused, and prepared to defend herself, trusting in the courage of her men and the intricacy of the lagoon. From north and south King Pippin could concentrate his forces upon Venice, and victory seemed easy ; but he had forgotten the natural defences of the sea-bound city. He did not know the shoals and deeps of the sea home. A Ufe's study would scarcely have taught him. A certain noble assumed the lead of the Venetian people. He commanded them to remove their wives, children, and goods to a little island in mid lagoon — Rialto, impregnable from land or sea. This done, the fighting men took up positions on the outlying islands, and awaited the attack of the Franks. Pippin seized on Brondolo, Chioggia, and Palestrina, and tried to press his squadron on to the capital ; but the shoals stopped him. His ships ran aground ; his pilots missed the channels ; and the Venetians pelted them with darts and stones. For six months Pippin struggled ; but the Venetians kept him at bay by their network AT CHIOGGIA HISTORY 31 of canals and their oozy mud-banks. They shook off every assault. In the summer there came a rumour that an Eastern fleet was approaching. Pippin tried one more appeal to the Venetians, begging them to own themselves his subjects. " For are you not within the borders of my kingdom ? " he said. " We are resolved to be the subjects of the Roman Emperor," they answered, " and not of you." The King was forced to retire. This great Adctory seemed to have the effect of consohdating the Venetians effectively. They agreed thenceforward to work together for the common cause. War had completed the union of Venice. She had emerged from her trial an independent State. There was no more internal discord. Venetian men and Venetian lagoons had made and saved the State. The spirit of the waters, free, vigorous, and pungent, had passed during the strife into the being of the people. This triumph was really the birth hour of Venice, and the people look back upon it with joy. The victory over King Pippin is cherished to this day as one of the finest events in history. The Venetians realised the peril of the sea from this attack. Also they realised the peril of the main land from the Hunnish invasion. They then 32 VENICE effected a compromise, and chose as the future home of their State a group of islands mid-way between the sea and the land, then known as Rialto, but thenceforth to bear the proud name of Venice. Venice in this union of her people declared her nature, so infinitely various, rich, pliant, and free, that to this day she awakens and in some measure satisfies a passion such as we feel for some person deeply beloved. Her people then struggled to attain from infancy to manhood. For the first time they had learned their own power, and union gave them strength. They began to create their Constitution, that singular monument of rigidity and durability which endured, with hardly a break in its structure, for ten centuries. They built with vigour and enthusiasm that incomparably lovely city of the sea. The aristocracy of Venice emerged. Her empire extended, following the lines of her commerce, in the East. St. Mark was substituted for St. Theodore as patron saint. The crusades were used as a means to conquer Dalmatia, and to plant the lion in the Greek Archipelago. Venice clashed with Genoa, and emerged victorious. Wealth flowed into her State coffers and her private banks. The island of Rialto proved the advantage of its situation, and established a claim CHURCH OF SAN GEREMIA HISTORY 33 for gratitude as the asylum of Venice in her hour of need. The Venetians had seen that the main land was unsafe, and the attack of Pippin showed that there was danger on the sea. Thus, experience leading to the choice of the middle point, in 810 the seat of the Government was removed to Rialto under Angelo Badoer as Doge. Rialto became a sacrament of reconcihation between Heraclea and Malamocco. It was the glory of Venice that of all parts of Italy she alone remained unscathed by the foreign ravages of the fifth century and the con quest of the eighth. Venice alone was left out of all Italy's ruin. She alone escaped pure and undefiled. This marvellous period of her history — the repulses of the Franks and the creation of her State — requires no embeUishments ; yet the Venetians loved to gather a mythology of persons and events. Cannon-baUs of bread, they say, were fired into the Prankish camp in mockery of Pippin's hope of strong Rialto surrendering. Then, again, there are the stories of the old woman who lured the invader to his final effort when half his forces were lost ; of the canal Orfano, which ran with foreign blood, and won its name from the countless Prankish hordes that day made desolate ; of the sword of Charles, which was flung into the 3 34 VENICE sea when the Emperor acknowledged his repulse and cried, "As this my brand sinks out of sight, nor ever shaU rise again, so let aU thoughts of conquering Venice fade from out men's hearts, or they wiU feel, as I have felt, the heavy displeasure of God." AU these stories were absolutely un true ; but they were born of a pardonable pride. The Venetians held their country in a singu larly powerful devotion. Possibly this was because they were so closely shut in on these few little islands, precious morsels of land snatched from the devouring sea. Certain it is that they toiled for the State as no other nation has toiled before or since. They were determined that Venice should be great, that she should be beautiful ; and century after century of Venetians devoted their Uves to this work, sinking their own interests in hers. The Republic was before everything. Wherever one goes in Florence, one finds traces of great and famous men of all periods and of aU crafts — painters, poets, writers, statesmen, — in every square, in every street, you are reminded of them ; their spirits and their works live with you wherever you may go. But in Venice, where are they? There is the city — yes: there is that; and there are the archives, the annals of the city. THE BRIDGE OF SIGHS AND STRAW BRIDGE HISTORY 35 histories without number, marveUous histories ; — but the famiUar figures, the great men that we honour and look for, — they are not here. Venice herself was the centre of all their aspirations, all their affections. She was erected as would be a treasure-heap : all the choicest and all the best were there. One knows but little, for example, of the great painters — the men, with beautiful thoughts, who fiUed the churches and the palaces with untold splendour, glowing sunshine. Their works are left, and their names ; but no more. It seems as if they must have kept one another down, that Venice alone might shine. If one wishes to study the history of Venice, there is no difficulty. Historic documents without number are accessible. Every period, every vogue, every year, is carefuUy studied and commented upon by keen observers, men of the greatest talents. These records glow with life and energy. In quite early days, when the Republic was in its infancy, — when there was no aristocracy, no great and powerful State, — even the fishermen and the merchants and the salt manufacturers had a longing to chronicle the doings of the community. The palaces which were being built, and the churches, — aU these they wished to have 36 VENICE chronicled for ever. Numberless historians there were, and aU nameless — men of extraordinary skiU and genius. EmbeUishments and fables abound ; but on the whole these histories, written Avith great reaUsm, bring back a vivid picture of the State. No Venetian ever tires, ever did tire, of the history of his country. It is the one subject that is of endless interest to him. The trade of Venice, her ceremonies, her treaties, her money, the speeches of her orators — aU are chronicled. Venice was looked upon by Italy very much as we look upon America. She had no long and glorious history — at least, no history of anything beyond handicraft — no literature, no ancient manu scripts. The Florentines, on the other hand, had a great enthusiasm for ancient history. They were proud of their descent, and gloried in looking back to a long Etruscan civiUsation. When one visits Florence, there is no difficulty in gathering know ledge concerning her great men of any period. Their shadows walk in her streets ; their memories wUl never fade. You meet them everywhere— the painters, the monks, the gaUants, the statesmen, — the individualities of the men who were the makers of Florence. The Venetians had no sympathy with the Florentines. They could not under- ON THE GRAND CANAL % ^V 1 .¦* 9 were always a little soiled, and their finger-nails never quite clean. The waiters also were soiled. They were very toney indeed, and very apathetic — toes turned inwards, heads bent sUghtly forward. They were dejected from want of variety : there was no uncertainty in the Panada as to tips. They came in on the aggregate and received lump sums ; but there was a general depression about the people that waited. AU were soUed at the Panada — ^the waiters, the artists, and the linen. But we very soon began to talk of this dirt as tone, and then it didn't seem to matter so much. Everything seemed to be worked on more or less artistic principles. There were quaint decorative dishes. The puddings were pink ; the butter was stained ; and altogether it required great habits to enjoy food at the Panada. By perseverance, I was told, it was possible to acquire an appetite. There were tables of different sizes, and groups of artists belonging to different sects — some antagonistic, some sympathetic : Dottists, and Spottists, and Stripists. Sometimes when the Dottists and Spottists happened to be friends for the minute they would join their tables together and make one long one. But this was only now and then. UsuaUy the groups in the Panada were formed of 4 50 VENICE twos. Often genius sat alone. Now and then, when a big picture was sold, the restaurant was very festive : the artist had a dinner-party, to which everyone had been invited. But generaUy it was a smaU water-colour that was sold, and the party went off to a small caf^ down by a side canal. There was one man who got himself up to look Uke King Charles, and he was King Charles to the Ufe ! Long hair rested on his shoulders, and an enormous tie adorned his neck ; his trousers and waistcoat were fringed, and his boots and beard were pointed. He had a coat of velvet that through age had become marked with an opalescent mottle. If he stood in front of an age-toned palace you never knew which was coat and which was palace. He possessed no earthly goods, but paid his way all over the world by painting portraits. He would either cut you out in black paper for fivepence or draw an elaborate portrait in pastel for one franc fifty. This celebrated man came up to us, and began to paint our portraits. Before we knew where we were he had cut out, dry-pointed, and stippled us ; and melted away, leaving behind him a whole tableful of works of art, side by side with his biU. Then another man introduced him self to us, and explained that this was quite the AN UNFREQUENTED CANAL A GLIMPSE INTO BOHEMIA 51 usual thing for " King Charles " to do. He pointed out how romantic and interesting it aU was : he seemed quite convinced that the place was fuU of romance. For us Bohemia had lost its romance. We felt that we had been green, grass-green, and that (to use a vulgarism) the gilt was off the gingerbread. The room was becoming stuffy; the Bohemians were noisy and dishonest; and the waiters, no longer toney, were dirty. So we paid our own biU and " King Charles's," and left the Panada and romance for the open air. In the piazza the band was playing the popular music that one knows so well from the barrel organs. Instinctively one thought of London, Soho, and performing monkeys. But this impres sion was swept away when I saw the picture that presented itseK before me in St. Mark's. What an extraordinary change had come over the piazza since dinner! A swarm of locusts might have settled upon Venice — a dark, seething mass, clustering round the walls of St. Mark's and filling up every inch of space. They were pilgrims from Russia, thousands of them — men, women, and chUdren — on their way to Rome — ^poor peasants who had saved up for this pilgrimage during their 52 VENICE whole Ufetime, sleeping the sleep of the righteous, their bodies pressed close against the holy waUs of St. Mark's as though for sympathy. It was a dark- coloured crowd, all dressed in black, with big capes and long boots and little astrachan caps, — a strong silhouette of black against the brilliant background of St. Mark's. It was a marvellous picture, and pathetic. These peasants seemed to be waiting for a greater, deeper joy, when they would be transformed to new creatures and fly back to their native land on the wings of a beautiful faith. The moon herself shone down upon them caressingly, Ughting up many a weary, tra vel- worn face, turning their sombre hues to silvers, and greens, and \dolets. St. Mark's, with this dark mass of people at her base, seemed almost flippant by contrast. This was a night of contrasts ! The dirt and filth of the little restaurant, with its noisy Bo hemians : and then the quiet night, a clear, bright, silvery blue night such as one only sees in Venice ; the weary pilgrims and the sumptuous cathedral ; the dainty lightness and gracefulness of St. Mark's and the broad, simple, strong tower rearing her head into the sky— the Campanile, now, alas! no more than a memory. It was a picture such as you see but once in a Ufetime. This building of ST. MARK S BASIN A GLIMPSE INTO BOHEMIA 53 precious stones, one of the most beautiful in the world, so rich with gold and mosaic, jewels, marbles, and lapis lazuU, that even in the cold blue light of the moon and a few dim gas-lamps it seemed to be dancing and sparkling with colour, — this, and the sleeping peasants in their rags — what a contrast ! Then, again, what a contrast suddenly to turn from these dark groups to the jewellers' shops and the huge windows full of glittering Venetian glass ! To see the gaily-dressed crowds sipping their coffee outside Florian's famous caf^ that had never been closed during three hundred years ! Here was nothing but brightness and gaiety. An excellent band played in the middle of the piazza. Smartly- dressed young men and mUitary officers in pale blue uniform stroUed about the square, quite conscious that they were being regarded favourably by girls and their mothers sitting at the coffee-tables. Florian's was an ideal place for the artist. It was never shut. It was quite the fashionable thing to drink coffee there after dinner, and one had the chance of talking to one's friends and acquaint ances. Fascinating fruits were brought round to us — grapes, and figs, and almonds dipped in caramel sugar and stuck on to sticks. The men smoked cigars as long as those smoked in Burma. So 54 VENICE capacious were they that they put tliem on little stoves in the way a woman heats her curUng-tongs, and by the time they had drunk their coffee the cigars were probably alight. When the band had stopped playing we went to Bauer's to drink beer. And so ended a t5rpical day in the life of an artist in that most fascinating city on the waters. Thanks to the kindness of Mr. Bozzi, the manager of the well-known Danieli's Hotel, who often pUoted me about the intricate network of streets, I became familiar with many of the unfrequented quarters, which, as a rule, remain absolutely unknown to the tourist. HOTEL DANIELI ^it_» 'Mi m ARCHITECTURE PORTA DELLA CARTA ARCHITECTURE In architecture one finds a history of Venice. It is the most definite expression, the most faithful embodiment, of the local genius. It presents reaUsticaUy the daily life and thought and work of a bygone race. The intense love of the early Venetians for colour shows itself in the gleaming gold, the veined marble, and the white sculpture. Another of their affections is symboUsed by the frequent introduction of children in the sculptured works. There are chUdren of aU periods, of aU appearances, iUustrating various of the changes in thought and in ideals that were continuaUy coming to pass. Those of the earUer time are sturdy, strapping youngsters, with a purposeful look about them ; whereas the children of the fifteenth century are fat, chubby, and uninteresting. In the early stage of her history Venice was a Greek rather than an ItaUan city, and her buildings 57 58 VENICE were of Byzantine type. That is easily explained. During her first great period Venice was connected by sea with Constantinople and the East, but cut off by the lagoons and marshes from Lombardy and the rest of Italy. Only a few of the Byzantine buildings remain. The period is principaUy marked by the precious stones and coloured marbles en crusted in the brickwork, and by the ancient reliefs inserted in the blank waUs of churches and houses. Among Byzantine buildings St. Mark's comes first. The existing building began to be constructed at the close of the tenth century ; and Byzantine architects worked at it for nearly a hundred years. It was largely remodelled afterwards, and was altered in decoration during the different reactions of architecture ; but the bulk of it belongs to the early period, and is in the pure Byzantine style. Parts of it remind one greatly of St. Sophia in Constantinople, on the lines of which, I believe, St. Mark's was partially modelled. There were many Gothic additions in the shape of pinnacles and pointed gables above the chief arches, just sufficient intrusion of the Gothic element to add a touch of bizarre extravagance ; and in the sixteenth century many ofthe old mosaics were superseded by jejeune Renaissance compositions, of no decorative value. GRAND CANAL LOOKING TOWARDS THE DOGANA ARCHITECTURE 59 incongruous with the general scheme. Neverthe less, the church as a whole, as I have said, stiU remains essentially Byzantine. The main fabric of the , fa9ade represents the original Byzantine Romanesque building, and is in almost every particular similar to the picture of the church given in the thirteenth-century mosaic. The turreted pinnacles and the false gables are Gothic additions of the fifteenth century — merely screens of decoration with no roof behind. The building is truly Oriental. In the shape of a Greek cross with four equal arms, it faces west, and has a high altar and a presbytery at the east end. It was first of aU the domestic chapel of the Doge's Palace, and then the shrine of the body of St. Mark the Evangelist. Everywhere one sees the motto, " Pax tibi, Marce, Evangelista mea " (" Peace to thee, Mark, my Evangelist"). There are the symbols of aU the four evangelists, — Luke, a buU ; Mark, a lion ; John, an eagle ; Matthew, an angel. There are scenes from the life of Christ — the Adoration of the Magi and Annunciation to the shepherds. Venice in the Byzantine period must have been a city of great architectural wealth and splendour, -^far in advance of other ItaUan towns, although, of course, destitute of the engineering glories of 60 VENICE France and Germany. One can teU this by the few remaining Byzantine palaces, — very few of them are purely Byzantine. There is the magni ficent Palazzo Loredan, one of the most beautiful of aU the palaces on the Grand Canal, and a splendid example of the Byzantine Romanesque period. It has about it a distinct tinge of Oriental feeUng ; the capitals of some of the columns are exquisitely beautiful, and there are not many Gothic alterations. Next to this palace comes the Palazzo Farsetti, Romanesque of the twelfth century, simpler in style and with less ornamentation. It is really more nearly pure Romanesque than Byzantine, and shows no Oriental influence whatever. It is graceful and dignified. The "Fondaco dei Turchi," a very early Byzantine Romanesque palace, assumed its name in the seventeenth century, when it was let to the Turkish merchants of Venice. OriginaUy a twelfth-century palace, it has recently been so much restored as to have lost aU its air of antiquity and the greater part of its earlier interest, although it still represents symbolicaUy the splendid homes of the Byzantine period. It is much like St, Mark's, and is the only surviving example of a buUding aU in one style. The arches, the capitals, A FAMOUS PALAZZO ARCHITECTURE 61 the shafts, the parapets and decorative plaques, are modernised, to be sure ; but they are typical if not original, and give one a very good idea of what the Grand Canal must have been like before the invasion of the Gothic style and the Renaissance. One gleans a very good idea by means of these palaces of how extremely civilised and peaceful Venice must have been at that early period. In northern Europe the homes of mediseval nobles were dark and gloomy castles built mainly for defence, having single heavy oak doors studded with nails, and great iron gates and drawbridges ; there were no openings in the ground floors, and the windows above were smaU and grated. For Venice such fortifications were unnecessary. Her palaces were airy and graceful ; for she was pro tected from the outside by her moat of lagoons, and from the inside by her strong internal Government. These ancient buildings, the " Fondaco dei Turchi " and the rest, were even then gentlemen's palaces, always open and undefended, the homes of pleasure, with free means of access, broad arcades, plenty of Ught, and presenting a general air of peace and security. It is interesting to notice the later Venetian 62 VENICE architecture (as exhibited in the Libreria and the Procuratie Vecchie), developed from this early open and airy style. The native Venetian ideal seems to have traversed all styles, and persisted through them all in spite of endless architectural changes. The Grand Canal was the street of the nobles — ^the finest street in the world, in the way of architectural beauties. From end to end there are palaces of aU periods, from the Byzantine time to the eighteenth century, and all are palaces of the ancient Venetian nobiUty. The Grand Canal is to Venice what the Strand is to London and the Rue St. Honord to Paris. It is the most wonderful street in the world. There is nothing so bizarre, so fairy-like, to be seen in any other city through the length and breadth of the globe. It is a marveUous book wherein every family of the Venetian nobiUty has signed its name. Every waU teUs a story ; every house is a palace ; each was erected by some well-known architect. Pietro Lombardo, Scamozzi, Sansovino, Sammichele (the Veronese), Selva, Vissenti — ^these were the men who drew the plans and directed the construction of the houses ; but unknown architects ofthe Middle Ages built some of the most picturesque. There were palaces of all styles. After a palace ENTRANCE TO THE GRAND CANAL ARCHITECTURE 63 of the Renaissance comes one belonging to the Middle Ages in Gothic Arab style, much like the Ducal Palace, Avith balconies, lancet windows, and trefoils. Then there will be a palace adorned with great plaques or medaUions of differently coloured marbles ; anon a great bare sweep of rose-toned wall. All styles are here — Byzantine, Saracen, Lombard. Gothic, Roman, Greek, and Rococo — fanciful capitals, Greek cupolas, mosaic and bas- relief, classic severity combined with the elegant fantasy of the Renaissance. It is a gaUery open to the sky, fuU of the art of seven or eight centuries. Think of the genius and money and talent expended on this one street by brilUant artists and munificent patrons ! The Grand Canal was originaUy one of the navigable channels by whose aid the waters found their way, through the mud-banks, past the mouth of the Lido to the open sea. It is the original deep water which first created Venice. Up this canal the commerce of aU countries used to reach the city in the days of her splendour. The Rialto, the most beautiful bridge in Venice, bestrides the canal in a single span. It was buUt by Antonio da Ponte. There are two rows of shops upon it ; and one of the most picturesque scenes in the Grand Canal 64 VENICE Ues round about it — old houses with platformed roofs, bulging balconies, and stairways with dis jointed steps. It is interesting to watch how Byzantine archi tecture gave place to Gothic when Venice began to conquer on the Italian mainland. Thus Gothic architecture came in, and the conquest of Padua and Verona completed it. The term " Gothic " is very elastic ; but there are certain points by which one can tell whether a building is Gothic or not. It is Gothic if the roof rises in a steep gable high above the walls ; if the principal windows and doors have pointed arches and gables ; if it has a steep roof; if the arches are foliated — that is to say, if the shapes of different leaves are cut into the stone to form a species of delicate tracery like lacework, letting in the daylight. Foliation is especially characteristic of Gothic architecture ; some of the windows in Westminster Abbey are foUated. Gothic architecture is very rough and loose and irregular; yet it has a wonderful tenderness and variation of design. Changeableness and variety are the great requirements of perfect architecture. One should be enabled to derive just as much pleasure and instruction from looking at a perfect piece of architecture as from reading one of the PANORAMA SEEN FBOM ST. MARK's BASIN ARCHITECTURE 65 finest of classic books. Gothic architecture is essentially truthful and naturalistic. The archi tects of this period were peculiarly fond of vegeta tion, which is a sign of gentleness and refinement of mind. Gothic is principaUy independent. It juts out continually with many pinnacles ; there is nothing broad, or uniform, or smooth, about a Gothic buUding ; it is variable, rough, and jutting, though, nevertheless, graceful in the extreme. The materials were rougher then than in the time of the Byzantine architecture, and to atone for this it was necessary to introduce much workmanship. The artists were enthusiastic in their love of Nature, and felt deeply all her changing and complex moods. For example, you may see the difference between a Renaissance and a Gothic palace by imagining the surroundings of the former, its background, gone. It would then be deprived of its charm; whereas if you took a Gothic palace and placed it anywhere, it would still be beautiful. The Ducal Palace expresses the Gothic spirit to perfection. It was the great work of Venice at this period. The best architects, the best labourers, and the best painters were employed in beautifying it. At one time the palace feU into decay, and it was obvious to everyone that it should be rebuilt 5 66 VENICE and enlarged. But the alteration would be ex tremely expensive. Therefore a law was passed preventing anyone suggesting such alterations unless he had previously paid one thousand ducats to the State. At last a man arose who cared not for the thousand ducats, and suggested the necessary alterations. The palace was then rebuilt. It was palace, prison, senate-house, and office of public business, aU in one. There were thirty-six great pUlars supporting the lower stories alone, all decorated in the richest possible manner. There was no end to the fantasies of the sculptors at that period — exquisite curves, studied outlines, graceful but complex, solid and strong and beautifully pro portioned braided work ; lilies and flowers of aU kinds intertwined. Much of the sculpture is snow- white, with gold as a background ; some of it has glass mosaic let into the hoUows. The cross is used a good deal ; also the peacock, the vine, the dove. The palace of Semitecolo has some beautiful early-Gothic windows, having false cusps in the arches, so as to make the head a trefoil. One sees here the gradual growth of the arch until it cul minates in the Doge's Palace type. There are beautiful balustrades to the balconies, original and THE DOGANA AND SALUTE ARCHITECTURE 67 belonging to the period. In the early- Gothic palaces one notices a certain softening of the angles — ^that is to say, in the fine fourteenth -century Gothic buildings. The early Gothic architecture has no cusps to the arches ; it shows a transitional form between Venetian Romanesque and Venetian Gothic. There are first-floor arcades early- Gothic, with a somewhat Oriental curve in the arch derived by the early Venetian Gothics from Alexandria or Cairo. The capitals of the columns are character istic of the period : there are dainty balconies with graceful, slender columns, and cusps to the arches. These Gothic palaces were built by a people who were laborious, brave, practical, and prudent ; yet they had great ideas of the refinement of domestic life, and the Gothic palaces remain to-day much the same as when they were newly built — marble balconies, great strong sweeps of delicate-looking tracery, clustered arches. It is the Gothic window that is so perfect, so strong, — built, too, with material that was by no means good. There is so much rivalry, vanity, dishonesty, in the present day, that houses are badly and cheaply buUt ; even in the best of them, bad iron and inferior plaster are used. How many of them, I should like to know, will be standing fifty years 68 VENICE hence? Mr. Ruskin is much against our modern windows and the manner in which they are quickly constructed out of bad materials, and the bricks aU placed one on top of the other slanting anyhow. The doors of Gothic palaces are all semicircular above. At one time the name of the family was placed over the entrance, and a prayer inserted fo;r their safety and prosperity, — also a blessing for the stranger who should pass the threshold. Inside the houses there is always a large court round which aU the various rooms circle, with a beautiful outside staircase supported on pointed arches with coned parapets and projecting landing-places. In the court there is always a well of marble superbly sculptured. The centres of the early Renaissance architecture were Florence, Milan, and Venice. Venice is the only city in which important examples of all three periods of the Renaissance are to be found — the early period, the culminating period, and the period of decay. The Renaissance found better expression in Venice than elsewhere in Italy. In fact, when Florence and Rome had entered upon quite another period, Venice continued it for fuUy twenty -five years longer. The Venetians were ambitious, exceedingly so ; and this ambition was PALAZZO CONTARINI DEGLI SCRIGNI ARCHITECTURE 69 a source of great trouble to the rest of Italy. The balance of power seemed, in their opinion, to be weighing too heavily in the direction of the Queen of the Adriatic ; and the peace of the peninsula, they felt, was not by any means assured. The greatest period for Venice was at the end of the fifteenth century, when she had conquered all the land about her from Padua nearly to Milan, and seawards to Dalmatia and Crete. In the market places of Padua, Vicenza, Verona, and Brescia, the Lion of St. Mark was set up as a sign of the sub jugation. Even now one can trace the influence of Venice upon the art of these various places. But the Venetians certainly learnt a great deal from the people whom they conquered. Other influences were brought to bear upon Venetian architecture^ — as, for example, the Lombardi family, who pro bably belonged to some part of liOmbardy. Venice seems at this time to have gathered unto herself many fine suggestions from the rest of Italy. In fact, Venice absorbed talent from the rest of the world. In quite early days she adopted Byzantine and Arabic architecture ; then, in the sixteenth century, she took unto herself the art of the Milanese, who enriched the city with their work. A truly Renaissance building did not appear in 70 VENICE Venice until sixty years after the first was erected in Florence, and then, strangely, it had little of the Florentine character. This, after all, is not extra ordinary when one comes to think of the bitter war between Florence and Venice in 1467. She took her style of architecture from the countries which she had conquered and naturaUsed, such as the district of Lombardy ; and in her tum she influenced them. The adoption of the Greek forms of Roman architecture which originated in Florence gradually spread and reached Venice ; but the Venetians did not struggle, as did the Florentines, to revive and purify Roman archi tecture. Simply the tendency of the general taste incUned in that direction, and gave to their own Venetian forms of architecture a certain classic air. In the general form of the work of this period one cannot detect the classical influence ; but, if you examine into it carefuUy, you will notice in smaU details, such as a capital, that some classical subject has been introduced in place of the usual sym boUcal one. You wiU also detect in purely Gothic composition signs of the new art influence. For example, in the mouldings there is an introduction of cupids among the foliage, and aU the strange fables and gods of the heathen are represented CHURCH OF THE JESUITS ARCHITECTURE 71 there. This was the period when people were becoming more learned. Later, buildings were erected on purely classical lines ; yet they stiU kept to the Gothic arch. Bartolomeo Buono of Bergamo was one of the greatest architects of his time. In 1520 the work of another architect was noticeable — that of Guglielmo Bergamasco. The question of the church exterior was one of the most difficult problems of the early-Renaissance architect, and he never solved it quite. The churches of Venice nearly all belong to the Renaissance ; there were many of them rebuilt under the influence of either PaUadian or Jesuit style. PaUadio was a great architect ; but he had nothing of the Catholic feeUng. He was reaUy more suited to build a pagan temple than to buUd a Christian church. The Jesuit style, moreover, is horrible, with its stumpy columns, bloated cherubs, unhealthy affectations, and fiery ornaments. It is a display without beauty or grace, merely over loaded and heavy. The church of the Scalzi is of extravagant richness. The waUs are encrusted Vidth coloured marble ; there are frescoed ceilings by Tiepolo and Sansovino ; bright tones prevaU — more appropriate to a baUroom than to a house of prayer. One can quite imagine a minuet under 72 VENICE such a ceiling. Many of the churches in Italy are buUt in this style, and are compensated only by the number and interest of the valuable objects which they contain. Almost every church has a museum such as would honour the palace of a king. There one sees Titians, Paul Veroneses, Tintorettos, Pal mas, Giovanni Bellinis, Bonifazios. The church of the Scalzi has a broad staircase in red brocatelle of Verona, with truncated columns in marble, gigantic prophets, stone balustrades, and doors of mosaic. The Romanesque churches are really beautiful, with their pillars of porphyry, antique capitals, images standing out upon a glitter of gold, Byzantine mosaics, slender columns, and carved trefoils. The church of Santa Maria della Salute has been made famous by the picture of her by Canaletto in the Louvre. One of the most beauti ful things within is a ceiUng by Titian. Venetian arabesque ornament of the Quattri cento is tenderly sculptured, and the friezes are undercut in a reverent and delicate manner. One of the most beautiful palaces of the Grand Canal is the Palazzo Corner- SpinelU. It is especiaUy noticeable because of the number of windows in the basement, — there is no observable order in the placing of them. Then, again, there SANTA MARIA DELLA SALUTE ARCHITECTURE 73 are contrasts in the shape of balconies. Some are smaU and curved inwards ; others are long and straight. In 1481 the palaces became of a more advanced character. The central windows were grouped together ; but this last feature is character istic of Venetian architecture of all periods. One of Sammichele's finest works is the Palazzo Grimani, on the Grand Canal. It was carried out by others after Sammichele's death ; nevertheless, it is very fine. It has great dignity and majesty, and is a composition such as wiU be found in Venice alone. Venice is, architecturally, the most interesting city in Italy. It contains works of all periods, from the early Christian foundation to the eighteenth century ; and perhaps the best examples of each are there. First there was the school of the Lombardi ; next, that of Sammichele and Sansovino, quite distinct, an influence direct from Rome. Then came, closely following, the schools of PaUadio and Scamozzi ; and a fourth is that of the seventeenth-century artists, who did good work in Venice, but on different lines. The best example of this late period in Venice is Santa Maria deUa Salute, erected in token of the cessation of the plague. It is situated at the sea gate to the presence-chamber of the Queen of the Adriatic. 74 VENICE Few churches of any age can rival it architecturally. The composition is mainly pyramidal. The barocco style is nowhere so appalling as in Venice. It is most untruthful and unprincipled in character. There is a great deal of ostentation and bombastic pomp about it. A terrible example of this can be seen in Doge Valiero's tomb, where the marble is made to imitate silk and cloth wherever possible. The Palazzo Pesaro was built, rich and gross, typical of the domestic Renaissance, when archi tecture tended to decay. Technically it is a most inferior building. The figures in the sculpture are spasmodic in action, and restless ; there is a pro jecting, diamond-like rustication, far too bold in treatment. The angles are an exaggeration of the style of Sansovino, There are three great causes of the decadence of Venetian architecture. First of aU, it was started by purists who were bound too firmly to ancient usages, too much regulated by precedent, coldness, and formaUty. Secondly, a more disastrous in fluence was brought to bear — that of Michael Angelo, the example of freedom to the verge of Ucence. This revolution was brought about partly by the revolt of the pubUc feeling against the PALAZZO MENGALDO i« • ••"- » I' ARCHITECTURE 75 restrictions of the purists, partly by real want of knowledge and failure to understand traditional weaknesses and systems of design Avith regard to construction. The purpose and use of features was misunderstood ; uncontroUed freedom was aUowed ; ornament was added for its own sake, instead of being bound up in architectural lines. By such freaks and caprices almost every building at this time, though not ignoble in composition, was completely disfigured. Thirdly, the architects made the fatal mistake of using the excrescences of a weakness of the great masters and endeavouring to raise them to the dignity of features of design. Thus Venetian architecture withered and decayed, fading out into a pale shadow of what it had once been. That glorious art, which had once been so superb in the hands of the masters, sank into the execution of feigned architecture, false perspective, and fictitious grand fa9ades, with bad statues in unreal reUef. OSPEDALE CIVILE ST. MARK'S ST. .MARK S ST. MARK'S When you arrive before the Church of St. Mark's you realise that at last, after all your travels throughout the length and breadth of the globe, you have before you a building in which colour and design unite in forming perfection. Here stands without a shadow of doubt the finest buUding in the world, flawless. It is impossible to imagine that St. Mark's has been built stone by stone, that the brains of mere men have designed it, and that the hands of mere men have set it up. It must, you think, have been there from all time just as it is, — formed as the bubble is formed, and the opal. It is a revelation to look upon such perfect symmetry, such glorious colour ing. Like an opal, St. Mark's shows no sign of age. It gUtters like a new jewel, and might have been buUt but yesterday. Unlike most churches, it has no sombre, frowning air. Its spires do not 79 80 VENICE launch themselves into the sky. It does not bristle with towers and arched buttresses. Rather the buUding seems to stoop and crouch. It is sur mounted by domes, as is a Mohammedan mosque, and is a strange mixture of Oriental ornamentation and Christian symbolism. Horses take the place of angels ; grace and splendour, the place of austerity and mystery. Who ever heard of gold, alabaster, amber, ivory, enamel, and mosaic being used in the construction of a Christian church? Who ever heard of dolphins, tridents, marine shells, trefoUs, cupolas, marble plaques, backgrounds of vividly coloured mosaics and of gold ? It is more Uke a fairy palace, or an Alcazar, or a mosque, than a Catholic church ; more like an altar to Neptune than one to the Christian God. The ultimate result of this apparent incoherence is a harmonious whole. Reverence and Chris tianity are here — an absolute and living faith. Even the most devout Catholic has no cause for complaint. With all its pagan art, St. Mark's preserves the character of primitive Christianity. The exterior is extremely complicated. There are many porticoes, each with columns of marble, jasper, and other precious materials ; many mosaics on grounds of gold over each doorway; many PALAZZO DANIELI ST. MARK'S 81 historic stories and legends that these mosaics represent ; many fantastic forms of angelic beasts, saints, Byzantine and Middle - Ages bas - reUefs,^ magnificent bronze doors, arcades, lamps, peacocks — so many that it is impossible to attempt to describe them in detail. Even to teU of the delicate structure and the subtle, ever-changing, iridescent colour is beyond me. It is almost bewUdering when one thinks that at the time St. Mark's was buUt every house in every side street had much of the same extravagant richness, beauty of colouring, and superb architecture. As Mr. Ruskin says, it is absurd to imagine that churches were designed in a style particularly different from that of other buUdings. There is nothing specially sacred in what we call ecclesiastical architecture. All the houses were built much in the same way. Only, whUe the houses have fallen into decay, the church has been preserved by a devoted populace. It is not often that one sees a coloured building, a buUding teeming with colour; but St. Mark's vibrates with colour. There are no blank spaces of grey stone. Every square inch is beautiful. When one enters from the bright sun, St. Mark's appears dim and dark ; but you must not judge by that. To appreciate its beauties, the 6 82 VENICE student should visit the church day after day. Gradually they will unfold themselves. That is what constitutes one of the charms of St. Mark's. It is as though one were in a carved-out cave of gold and purple, on a voyage of discovery all by oneself. At first you can see nothing ; but as your eyes become accustomed to the darkness, colours begin to grow upon you out of the gloom. Some minutes must elapse before you realise that the floor, which at first you took to be of a deep-toned grey stone, is a mosaic composed of thousands of differently coloured marbles — ^that you are walking on precious marbles of peacock hues. Golden gleams above your head attract you to the domed ceiling, and, to your delight and amazement, you discover that it is formed entirely of gold mosaic. You are passing a dim recess, and you see a blurred mass of rich colour ; after a time you realise that you are looking at a famous master piece by one of the great Italian painters. You sit there as in a dream ; and one by one the pictures and the mosaics, the Gothic images, the cupolas, the arches, the marbles, the alabaster, the porphyry, and the jasper appear to you — until what was darkness and gloom appears to be teeming and vibrating with colour. FRANCESCA ST. MARK'S 83 St. Mark's carries one away from the everyday world. On the ignorant and the uninitiated it has a marveUous effect. Men and women and children flock to it by the thousands daily. Many and fervent are the worshippers one sees praying before some special saint or beloved Madonna. Some are weeping, and others kneel for hours on the cold stones. The unhappy people of Venice have many sins and sorrows, and there is much that is comforting to them in this rich, majestic church. The fainting spirit is revived and the most desperate person stimulated as he looks about him at the sparkUng mosaic roof, the rich walls, and the dimly burning lamps. There is much in precious stones, music, sculptured figures, in pictures of heaven and heU, that appeals to these people. An infinite and pitiful God somewhere about them, these peasants of poor imaginations cannot under stand. They want a faith that they can cling to — almost something that they can finger and touch. St. Mark's is to the poor of Venice like a beauti fuUy iUustrated Bible. There, in the cupolas, the story of the Old Testament is presented in mosaic, plainly for every eye to see, for the youngest and least educated to understand. It touches them, and appeals to them, and keeps their faith burning 84 VENICE bright and clear. There they have the seven days of creation represented, — mysterious, weird, and primitive, — discs of gold and silver representing the sun and the moon. There are the Tree of Knowledge, the Temptation, the FaU, and the Expulsion from Paradise. Then comes the slajdng of Abel by Cain, Adam and Eve tiUing the ground. There is a strange mosaic of the Ark, with the animals going in two by two on a background of gold ; there are the stories of Abraham, of Joseph, and of Moses, all quaintly executed, full of detail and without regard to anatomy. There is no struggle to imitate Nature, and the colouring is good. In the time when St. Mark's was built there were no cheap Bibles, and, if there had been any, the poorer classes could not have read them. Thus the great Church was an endless boon to them, one which could never be quite exhausted. Many and splendid are the lessons these mosaics and pictures taught and continue to teach. The mysteries and beauties of the Bible are impressed upon the mind in a manner that cannot be effaced. AU the virtues are there — Temperance quenching fire with water; Charity, mother of the virtues, and the last attained in human life ; Patience ; Modesty ; THE DOGANA ST. MARK'S 85 Chastity ; Prudence ; LowUness of Thought, Kindness, and Compassion ; and Love which is Stronger than Death. These lessons the Venetians have continuaUy before them, to help them to bear the troubles of this world, and giving them hope for the peace of another. Most of the pictures in mosaic are typicaUy Byzantine, mainly symboUcal and of the first school of design in Venice. Upon these pictures the people of Venice live and thrive spirituaUy : the pleasure is real and pure. Colour has a great influence upon the emotions, just as music has ; and colour was used in the earUest tiines to stimulate devotion and repentance. There are pictures in which the most profound emotion is expressed. When one sees the pictures of Christ's life and passion, one cannot but be touched. By the medium of paintings in the churches, people began to understand and appreciate art, and to feel the need of it in their homes. Not only is St. Mark's an education to the poor and the ignorant: it is also an education to the student and to the artist. Here you have pictures of the nation of fishermen at their greatest period ; also you find legends splendidly told, such as the story of the two merchants who brought the bones of 86 VENICE St. Mark from Alexandria under cover of pork, crying " Swine ! swine ! " You see the priests, the Doge, and the people of Venice as they were in the days of her power. In one of the dim corners of St. Mark's is a statue of an old man on crutches with a finger on his Up. This is a Byzantine architect who was sent to Pietro Orseolo from Constantinople, as the cleverest Eastern builder of his time, to construct St. Mark's Church. He was a bow-legged dwarf, and undertook to build this marveUous edifice, unequaUed in its beauty, on condition that a statue of himself should be placed in a conspicuous posi tion in the Church. This was arranged. One day the Doge overheard the architect say that he could not execute the work in the way he had intended. " Then," said Orseolo, " I am absolved from my promise " ; and he merely erected a small statue of the architect in a corner of the Church. Think of the makers of St, Mark's — the great men who worked together with brains and hands to make her what she is I The army of artists, paint ing, designing, sculpturing, one after the other from generation to generation in this great cathedral! Titian, Tintoretto, Palma, Pilotto, Salviati, and Sebastian were among the painters whose designs ST. MARK S PIAZZA ST. MARK'S 87 were used for the mosaics ; Bozza, Vincenzo, Bianchini, and Passerini, among the master mosaicists ; Pietro Lombardo, Alberghetti, and Massegna, among the sculptors. Then, the other thousands, aU men of extraordinary talent, of whom astonishingly little is known, fervent workers ! Throughout eight centuries they worked, and with what care and skill and patience ! At what a cost, too, these master pieces must have been achieved ! Think of the temples and the quarries that have been robbed of their gold, and of the marbles, the alabaster, and the porphjrry. All the saints and prophets and martyrs are there ; the stories of the Virgin, of the Passion, and of Calvary ; aU the scenes from the Old and New Testaments. The early Venetians seem to have reveUed in colour and in rich materials. The buUders laid on the richest colour and the most brilliant jewels they could find. They were exiles from ancient and beautiful cities, and when they succeeded in war their first thought was to bring home shiploads of precious materials. Just as the Egyptians, the Greeks, and the Arabs had an intense love of colour, so had the early Venetians, who used precious stones in great abundance, even in their own «8 VENICE private houses. A most extraordinary thing is that there is nothing vulgar about the costUness of St. Mark's. Although both inside and out it is rich beyond words, rich in precious stones, rich in «very way, the buUding is fuU of reserve. There is no ostentation, no vulgarity. The jewels used in its construction do not for one moment inter fere with one's sense of the beautiful, or with reverence and religion. They simply give a rare luxurious feeUng to the place, and in the ignorant inspire respect for a Church thus encased and honoured with the richest in the land. Then, again, the jewels do not form a principal part of the ornamentation. One looks first at the exquisite workmanship ; and afterwards are noticed the precious materials, which form a subordinate part and do not interfere with the design. It is almost as though a veil had been swept over the whole buUding, both inside and out, bringing together this wealth of colour and forming it into a complete whole. It has the effect of a marvel lous glaze — of a picture that has had a thin glaze swept over it. Wherever you look, the Church teems with colour; but it seems to be piercing through a veU. It is not vivid positive colour, but colour breaking through a skin. In the East I SCUOLA DI SAN MARCO .^d^ ^ m w^ ST. MARK'S 89 have seen miUions of pounds' worth of jewels in one heap, with the sun shining on them, and I was overpowered with this wealth, I was inspired with their costUness ; — but St. Mark's does not affect you at aU in this way. Rich man and peasant are alike in this respect : they are elevated and stimulated in that buUding, not because of its costliness, but because of its extreme beauty. The technique is marveUous, but not obvious : the moment you are conscious of technique you may be sure that the work is poor. You never wonder how St. Mark's was buUt ; and that is the highest tribute to the marveUous arts which it expresses. A aUIET WATERWAY PAINTERS OF THE RENAISSANCE I TREI PONTI .>i'% PAINTERS OF THE RENAISSANCE One of the chief characteristics of the Venetian school of painters, and one of the most attractive to aU art lovers, is their great appreciation of colour. In most of their work colour seems to be the chief motive. Pictures by Venetian painters never suggest drawings. They strike you not as having been coloured afterwards, but as having been painted essentiaUy for the colour. One sees this throughout the whole schooL And in their paintings they do not go to extremes. There is no exaggeration in their colouring. They do not err, as do so many schools, either on the foxy-red side or on the cold steely colouring. Un fortunately, much of the beautiful colouring of these pictures is lost by age. One has to become accustomed to that ugly brown skin which has formed upon the surface before one can realise 94 VENICE what great colourists these early Venetians really were. The pictures somehow cause one to resent oil as a medium. One reaUses how different they must have looked when fresh from the easel, and wishes that these great masters could have painted with a medium more lasting — as did the Chinese, whose works are as young and fresh now as if they had been painted yesterday : the years have left no trace whatever : the simple colouring is the same to-day as it was a hundred years ago. Many of the earUer paintings, those of the Gothic Venetians, the less-known men, are a good deal better preserved. Their canvasses have not turned black ; the glazings have not departed ; and there is no smoky film upon them, as in the case of the works of the great masters, such as Titian, Tintor etto, and Giovanni Bellini, men who came a hundred years afterwards. It may very possibly be that the pigment which painters used then was purer and less adulterated. Certainly one sees in the various schools aU over the world that the older the pictures are the better preserved they are. Age never improves a picture — unless, indeed, it is an extremely bad one, when time serves as a thin veU. Undoubtedly these great colourists, the Venetians, CANAL PRIULI PAINTERS OF THE RENAISSANCE 95 influenced the various schools of painters aU over the world, and are stiU influencing them. Originally they worked for the churches, and colour was used exactly as music was used — ^to appeal to the senses, to the emotions : to influence the people, to teach them bibUcal stories and parables. It also educated the people to understand painting and to feel the need of it in their daily Uves. At about this time the Renaissance began to express itself, not only in poetry and other Uterature, but also in paintings ; and it found clearer utterance in Venice than elsewhere. The conditions at this time were perfect for the development of art. Venice at that period lent herself to art. She was at peace with the whole world, and she was prosperous. The people were joyous, gay, and Ught-hearted. They longed for everything that made life pleasant. NaturaUy, they wanted colour. And Venice was not affected by that wave of science which swept over the rest of Italy. The Venetians were not at all absorbed in Uterature and archaeology. They wanted merely to be joyous. This was an ideal atmosphere for the painter. Such a condition of things could not but create a fine artistic period. The painter is not concerned with science and 96 VENICE learning, or should not be. Such a condition of mind would result in feeble, academical work — in struggling to tell a story with his medium, instead of producing a beautiful design. That is partly why the Venetian school has had such a strong influence on art, even until the present day. The conditions were perfect for the develop ment of art, because the patrons were capable of appreciating beautiful form and beautiful colour. Because the public would have it, this new school of painters appeared. The demand was created, and the supply came. There was undoubtedly great friction among the painters of this period, exactly as there has been lately with the modern impressionists and the academic painters. Some of the old Venetians resented the new school that was springing up ; but they had eventuaUy to bend and try to paint in sympathy with the senses and emotion of their patrons. You find this new mode of thought expressed strongly even in the churches and in the treatment of reUgious subjects. The old ideals were altered. Men no longer painted saints and Madonnas as mild, attenuated people. The figures were UfeUke and full of actuality. The women were Venetian women of the period LATE AFTERNOON PAINTERS OF THE RENAISSANCE 97 dressed in splendid robes and dignified; the men were healthy, fuU-blooded, and joyous. Florence, however, at this particular period was undergoing quite a different mood. The Florentines preferred to express themselves in poetry and in prose. That was the language the masses understood. Painting was not popular. There has always been a literary atmosphere about Florence, and one feels it there to this day ; it is essentiaUy the city for the student. When painting became so much a vogue in Venice, painters began to try and perfect the art in every possible way. They struggled for actuality. Art began to develop in the direction of reaUsm. The Venetians wanted form and colour in their pictures ; but they wanted also a suggestion of distance and atmosphere. In those early pictures you find that painters smeared their distance to give it a blurred look. That was the beginning of perspective. Painters of this period seem to have been marveUously modern. They were quite in the movement. There has never been any attempt at harking back to earUer periods. Venice was very wealthy at this time, and Venetian people never missed an opportunity of parading wealth. They loved glory where the 98 VENICE State was concerned, and encouraged pageantry by both land and sea. They loved to see Doge and senators in their gorgeous robes, either on the piazza or on the Grand Canal, Then there came a demand for painted records of these processions and ceremonials. AU this was encouraged by the State for poUtical reasons. Pageantry enter tained the people, and at the same time made them less inquisitive. Much better, these great officials argued, that the people should be enjoying things in this way than that they should begin to inquire into the doings of the State. Gentile BeUini and Carpaccio were the first pageant painters of the period, Paolo Veronese, who came much later, also loved pageantry, elevated it to the height of serious art, and idealised prosaic magnificence. He painted great banquets, and combined ceremony, splendour, and worldliness with childlike naturalness and simplicity. First of aU, as has been shown, it was the Church that caUed for pictures — ^to represent their saints and to enforce biblical legends. Painting became more and more popular. People became more and more educated to understand painting, until at last they wanted their domestic and social Uves depicted. Also they wanted to hang these pictures OSMARIN CANAL PAINTERS OFTHE RENAISSANCE 99 in their homes. Pictures were neither so rare nor so expensive in those days as they are now, and people could afford to buy them — even the lower and the middle classes. Immediately there sprang up painters who satisfied the demand. In those days there were no academies and no salons wherein artists fought to outdo one another as to the size and eccentricity of their pictures ; there were no vulgar struggles of that kind. Painters simply suppUed to the best of their abUity the wants of the people. Naturally, the public required smaU pictures, suitable to the size of their houses. Therefore, they needed gay and beautiful colour, and pictures in which the subjects did not obtrude themselves forcibly. Thus, in the natural course of events pageantry found less favour, and pictures of social and domestic life found more. ReUgious subjects were rather deserted. By the aid of books people could learn all the stories of the Bible. Besides, they were not at that period in a devotional or contrite mood. They were too happy and fuU of Ufe to feel any pressing need for reUgion. Painting took much the same position with the Venetians as music has with us now. The fashion for triumphal marches and the clashing of cymbals in processional pictures had died out, and the vogue 100 VENICE of symphonies and sonatas had come in. No one at that time seemed quite capable of satisfying the public taste. Carpaccio, whose subtle yet briUiant colouring would have exactly suited it, never undertook these subjects. Giovanni Bellini at tempted them ; but his style was too severe for the gaiety of the period. However, there was not long to wait. Soon appeared a man who told the public what they wanted and gave it to them. He swept away con ventions and revolutionised art all over the world. He was a genius — Giorgione. Pupil of Bellini and Carpaccio, he combined the qualities of both. When he was quite a youth painters all over the world followed his methods. Curiously enough, there are not a dozen of this great master's works preserved at the present day. The bulk of them were frescoes which long ago disappeared. The few that remain are quite enough to make one reaUse what a great master he was. The picture which most appeals to me is an altar-piece of the Virgin and Child at Castelfranco. It is painted in the pure Giorgione spirit. St. George in armour is at one side, resting on a spear which seems to be coming right out of the picture ; whUe on the other side there is a monk, and in the SAN GIORGIO MAGGIORE PAINTERS OF THE RENAISSANCE 101 background are a banner of rich brocade and a small landscape. The Renaissance, the rejuvenation of art, seems to have slowly developed until at length it cul minated in Giorgione. He was the man who opened the door, the one great modern genius of his period, whose influence remains and is felt to this day. Velasquez would never have been known but for Giorgione. Imagine this young man with his new ideas and his sweeps of golden colouring suddenly appearing in a studio fuU of men, all painting in the correct severe style estabUshed at the period. Such a man must needs influence aU his feUows. Even Giovanni Bellini, the Watts of his day, acknowledged the young man's genius, and almost unconsciously began to mingle Giorgione's style with his own. We cannot realise what they meant at that period — ^these new ideas of Giorgione. He created just as much of a "furore" as when Benvenuto CeUini, in his sculpture, aUowed a Umb to hang over the edge of a pedestal. He needed this to complete his design. Since then almost everyone that has modeUed has hung a limb over a pedestal. But Benvenuto CeUini started this new era. So, in much the same sort of way, did Giorgione. He cut away from convention, and 102 VENICE introduced landscape as backgrounds to his figure subjects. He was the first to get actuality and movement in the arrangement of drapery. The Venetian public had long been waiting, though un consciously, for this work ; and Giorgione was so weU in touch with the needs of the people that the moment he gave them what they wanted they would take nothing else. In the work of Giorgione the Renaissance finds its most genuine expression. It is the Renaissance at its height. Both Giorgione and Titian were viUage boys brought to Venice by their parents and placed under the care of Giovanni BeUini to learn art. They must have been of very much the same age. It is interesting to watch the career of these boys — the two different natures — the impulsiveness of the one and the plodding perseverance of the other. Giorgione shot like a meteor early and bright into the world of art, scattering the clouds in the firmament, bold, crowding the work and the pleasure of a Ufetime in a few short years. His work was a delight to him, and life itself was fuU of everything that was beautiful. He was sur rounded always by a multitude of admiring com rades, imitating him and urging him on. Giorgione was ever restless and impetuous by nature. When A SOTTO PORTICO PAINTERS OF THE RENAISSANCE 103 commissions flagged and he had no particular work in hand, he took to painting the outside of his own house. He cared not a whit for convention. He foUowed his own tastes and his own feelings. He converted his home into a glow of crimson and gold, — agreat forms starting up along the walls, sweet cherub boys, fables of Greece and Rome, — a dazzUng confusion of briUiant tints and images. Think how this palace must have appeared reflected in the waters of the Canal ! Unfortunately, the sun and the wind fought with this masterly canvas, conquered, and bore all these beautiful things away. Indeed, many of Giorgione's works were frescoes, and the sea air swept away much of the glory of his life. His career was brief but gay, fuU of work and fuU of colour. This impetuous painter died in the very heyday of his success. Some say he died of grief at being deserted by a lady whom he loved ; others that he caught the plague. Of what a different nature was Titian ! He studied in the same bottega as Giorgione, and was brought up under much the same conditions. But he was a patient worker, absorbing the knowledge of everyone about him, ever learning and experi menting ; never completing. He did not think of striking off on a new line, of executing bold and 104 VENICE original work. He wanted to master not one side of painting but aU sides. He waited until his knowledge should be complete before he declared himself, before he really accomplished anything. He absorbed the new principles of his comrade Giorgione, as he absorbed everything else that was good, with unerring instinct and steady power. Titian was never led away in any one direction. He was always open to any new suggestion. As it happened, it was just as well that Titian worked thus at his leisure, and Giorgione with haste and fever. Titian had ninety-nine years to live ; Gior gione had but thirty-four. There is an interesting anecdote told by Vasari with regard to these two young men. They were both at work on the painting of a large building, the Fondaco dei Tedeschi; Titian painting the waU facing the street, and Giorgione the side towards the canal. Several gentlemen, not knowing which was the particular work of either artist, went one day to inspect the building, and declared that the waU facing the Merceria far exceUed in beauty that of the river front. Giorgione was so indignant at this sUght that he declared that he would neither see nor speak to Titian again. Titian does not seem to have been very much AT THE MOUTH OF THE GRAND CANAL PAINTERS OF THE RENAISSANCE 105 appreciated by his patrons at the beginning of his career. He inspired no affection. He was acknowledged as the greatest of all the young painters; but the RepubUc, it would seem, was never very proud of the man who did her so much credit and added so greatly to her fame. Even although the noise of his genius was echoed all over the world, — although the great Emperor himself stooped to pick up his brush, declaring that a Titian might well be served by a Ceesar, — although Charles the Fifth sat to him repeatedly, and maintained that he was the only painter whom he would care to honour, — the ^'"enetians do not seem to have been greatly enamoured of him. Perhaps it was that they missed the soul, the purity and grace and devotion, of the pictures of BeUini and Carpaccio. Certainly, as far as one can judge, he did not have a prepossessing nature. He was shifty in his dealings with his patrons and unfaithful in his promises. He seems to have belonged to a corrupt and luxurious society. Pietro Aretino had a very bad influence on Titian. He taught him to intrigue, to flatter, to betray. Aretino was a base-born adventurer for whom no historian seems to have a good word. He was, however, a man of wit and dazzling cleverness. 106 VENICE with a touch of real genius. Aretino corresponded with all the most cultured men of his time, and he had the power of making those whom he chose famous. It was he who introduced Titian to Charles the Fifth. Titian's pictures were much more saleable in foreign courts than in his own country. Abroad they did not seem to have the lack of soul which the Venetians so greatly deplored. It was the old case of the prophet having no honour in his own country. Certainly in the art of portraiture Titian has never been surpassed. At that period he had the field completely to himself. Nothing could have been more magnificent than Titian's portraits. They help to record the history of the age. It was in Titian's power to confer upon his subjects the splendour that they loved, handing them down to posterity as heroes and leamed persons. His men were aU noble, worthy to be senators and emperors, no coxcombs or foolish gallants, Titian was more at home in pictures of this kind than in reUgious subjects. His Madonnas are without significance ; his Holy Families give no message of blessing to the world. In the prime of his life he moved from his workshops to a noble and luxurious palace in San THE FOUNTAIN PAINTERS OFTHE RENAISSANCE 107 Cassiano, facing the wide lagoon and the islands. AU trace of it has disappeared, and homes of the poor cover the garden where the best company of Venice was once entertained. It is said that Titian gave the gayest parties and suppers — that he enter tained the most regal guests. Nevertheless, although made a knight and a count, and a favourite at most of the courts in Europe, he was greatly disUked by the Venetian Signoria, who in the midst of his famous supper-parties caUed upon him to demand that he should execute a certain work for which he had received the money long before. He seems to have been exceedingly grasp ing — a strange trait in the character of a painter. One sees throughout his correspondence, until the end of his life, a certain desire and demand for money. Undoubtedly he often painted merely for money alone, turning out a sacred picture one day and a Venus the next with equal impartiality Anything, it was said, could have been got out of Titian for • money. The Venetians never loved Titian's works, though foreign princes adored them. He seems to have laboured, until the end of his Ufe, more from love of gain than from necessity. He was buried at the Frari, carried thither in great haste by order of the Signoria, — for it was at the 108 VENICE time of the plague, when other victims were taken to the outlying islands and put in the earth unnamed. Somehow, in reading the life of Titian one is brought right away to the twentieth century. Here is the painter with the attendant journalist, Pietro Aretino, the boomer. Aretino was a journalist, the first. He took Titian in hand and " ran " him for all he was worth. Had it not been for this system of booming, Titian would probably not have been well known during his lifetime. In the Academy of the Fine Arts one can trace by his pictures a splendid historical record of Titian's Ufe, and can see plainly the changes in popular feeling and their effect upon his work. For very many years he lived and painted constantly, and then was killed by the plague ! There is a picture painted by him when he was fourteen years of age — a picture which contains aU the qualities, in the germ, of his later work : marvel lous architecture, pomp, yet great simplicity and luminous colour. Here also is the last picture he ever painted — at the age of ninety-nine. Think of the interval between the two ! It is sombre, pious. There is something pathetic about it. This great painter, whose work showed such fury, audacity. A NARROW CANAL