Stones of Venice, Volume 2 — 26 - Chapter 08, The Ducal Palace, part 6

"ULTIMA EST MORS PENA PECCATI."

Last comes death, the penalty of sin.

§ CXXII.

Shakspeare's Seven Ages are of course merely the expression of this early and well known system.

He has deprived the dotage of its devotion; but I think wisely, as the Italian system would imply that devotion was, or should be, always delayed until dotage.

TWENTY-THIRD CAPITAL.

I agree with Selvatico in thinking this has been restored.

It is decorated with large and vulgar heads.

§ CXXIII.

TWENTY-FOURTH CAPITAL.

This belongs to the large shaft which sustains the great party wall of the Sala del Gran Consiglio.

The shaft is thicker than the rest; but the capital, though ancient, is coarse and somewhat inferior in design to the others of the series.

It represents the history of marriage: the lover first seeing his mistress at a window, then addressing her, bringing her presents; then the bridal, the birth and the death of a child.

But I have not been able to examine these sculptures properly, because the pillar is encumbered by the railing which surrounds the two guns set before the Austrian guard-house.

§ CXXIV.

TWENTY-FIFTH CAPITAL.

We have here the employments of the months, with which we are already tolerably acquainted.

There are, however, one or two varieties worth noticing in this series.

_First side.

_ March.

Sitting triumphantly in a rich dress, as the beginning of the year.

_Second side.

_ April and May.

April with a lamb: May with a feather fan in her hand.

_Third side.

_ June.

Carrying cherries in a basket.

I did not give this series with the others in the previous chapter, because this representation of June is peculiarly Venetian.

It is called "the month of cherries," mese delle ceriese, in the popular rhyme on the conspiracy of Tiepolo, quoted above, Vol. I.

The cherries principally grown near Venice are of a deep red color, and large, but not of high flavor, though refreshing.

They are carved upon the pillar with great care, all their stalks undercut.

_Fourth side.

_ July and August.

The first reaping; the _leaves_ of the straw being given, shooting out from the tubular stalk.

August, opposite, beats (the grain?

) in a basket.

_Fifth side.

_ September.

A woman standing in a wine-tub, and holding a branch of vine.

Very beautiful.

_Sixth side.

_ October and November.

I could not make out their occupation; they seem to be roasting or boiling some root over a fire.

_Seventh side.

_ December.

Killing pigs, as usual.

_Eighth side.

_ January warming his feet, and February frying fish.

This last employment is again as characteristic of the Venetian winter as the cherries are of the Venetian summer.

The inscriptions are undecipherable, except a few letters here and there, and the words MARCIUS, APRILIS, and FEBRUARIUS.

This is the last of the capitals of the early palace; the next, or twenty-sixth capital, is the first of those executed in the fifteenth century under Foscari; and hence to the Judgment angle the traveller has nothing to do but to compare the base copies of the earlier work with their originals, or to observe the total want of invention in the Renaissance sculptor, wherever he has depended on his own resources.

This, however, always with the exception of the twenty-seventh and of the last capital, which are both fine.

I shall merely enumerate the subjects and point out the plagiarisms of these capitals, as they are not worth description.

§ CXXV.

TWENTY-SIXTH CAPITAL.

Copied from the fifteenth, merely changing the succession of the figures.

TWENTY-SEVENTH CAPITAL.

I think it possible that this may be part of the old work displaced in joining the new palace with the old; at all events, it is well designed, though a little coarse.

It represents eight different kinds of fruit, each in a basket; the characters well given, and groups well arranged, but without much care or finish.

The names are inscribed above, though somewhat unnecessarily, and with certainly as much disrespect to the beholder's intelligence as the sculptor's art, namely, ZEREXIS, PIRI, CHUCUMERIS, PERSICI, ZUCHE, MOLONI, FICI, HUVA.

Zerexis (cherries) and Zuche (gourds) both begin with the same letter, whether meant for z, s, or c I am not sure.

The Zuche are the common gourds, divided into two protuberances, one larger than the other, like a bottle compresed near the neck; and the Moloni are the long water-melons, which, roasted, form a staple food of the Venetians to this day.

§ CXXVI.

TWENTY-EIGHTH CAPITAL.

Copied from the seventh.

TWENTY-NINTH CAPITAL.

Copied from the ninth.

THIRTIETH CAPITAL.

Copied from the tenth.

The "Accidia" is noticeable as having the inscription complete, "ACCIDIA ME STRINGIT;" and the "Luxuria" for its utter want of expression, having a severe and calm face, a robe up to the neck, and her hand upon her breast.

The inscription is also different: "LUXURIA SUM STERC^S (?

) INFERI" (?

).

THIRTY-FIRST CAPITAL.

Copied from the eighth.

THIRTY-SECOND CAPITAL.

Has no inscription, only fully robed figures laying their hands, without any meaning, on their own shoulders, heads, or chins, or on the leaves around them.

THIRTY-THIRD CAPITAL.

Copied from the twelfth.

THIRTY-FOURTH CAPITAL.

Copied from the eleventh.

THIRTY-FIFTH CAPITAL.

Has children, with birds or fruit, pretty in features, and utterly inexpressive, like the cherubs of the eighteenth century.

§ CXXVII.

THIRTY-SIXTH CAPITAL.

This is the last of the Piazzetta façade, the elaborate one under the Judgment angle.

Its foliage is copied from the eighteenth at the opposite side, with an endeavor on the part of the Renaissance sculptor to refine upon it, by which he has merely lost some of its truth and force.

This capital will, however, be always thought, at first, the most beautiful of the whole series: and indeed it is very noble; its groups of figures most carefully studied, very graceful, and much more pleasing than those of the earlier work, though with less real power in them; and its foliage is only inferior to that of the magnificent Fig-tree angle.

It represents, on its front or first side, Justice enthroned, seated on two lions; and on the seven other sides examples of acts of justice or good government, or figures of lawgivers, in the following order: _Second side.

_ Aristotle, with two pupils, giving laws.

Inscribed: "ARISTOT * * CHE DIE LEGE."

Aristotle who declares laws.

_Third side.

_ I have mislaid my note of this side: Selvatico and Lazari call it "Isidore" (?

).

[158] _Fourth side.

_ Solon with his pupils.

Inscribed: "SAL^O UNO DEI SETE SAVI DI GRECIA CHE DIE LEGE."

Solon, one of the seven sages of Greece, who declares laws.

Note, by the by, the pure Venetian dialect used in this capital, instead of the Latin in the more ancient ones.

One of the seated pupils in this sculpture is remarkably beautiful in the sweep of his flowing drapery.

_Fifth side.

_ The chastity of Scipio.

Inscribed: "ISIPIONE A CHASTITA CH * * * E LA FIA (e la figlia?

) * * ARE."

A soldier in a plumed bonnet presents a kneeling maiden to the seated Scipio, who turns thoughtfully away.

_Sixth side.

_ Numa Pompilius building churches.

"NUMA POMPILIO IMPERADOR EDIFICHADOR DI TEMPI E CHIESE."

Numa, in a kind of hat with a crown above it, directing a soldier in Roman armor (note this, as contrasted with the mail of the earlier capitals).

They point to a tower of three stories filled with tracery.

_Seventh side.

_ Moses receiving the law.

Inscribed: "QUANDO MOSE RECEVE LA LEGE I SUL MONTE."

Moses kneels on a rock, whence springs a beautifully fancied tree, with clusters of three berries in the centre of three leaves, sharp and quaint, like fine Northern Gothic.

The half figure of the Deity comes out of the abacus, the arm meeting that of Moses, both at full stretch, with the stone tablets between.

_Eighth side.

_ Trajan doing justice to the Widow.

"TRAJANO IMPERADOR CHE FA JUSTITIA A LA VEDOVA."

He is riding spiritedly, his mantle blown out behind: the widow kneeling before his horse.

§ CXXVIII.

The reader will observe that this capital is of peculiar interest in its relation to the much disputed question of the character of the later government of Venice.

It is the assertion by that government of its belief that Justice only could be the foundation of its stability; as these stones of Justice and Judgment are the foundation of its halls of council.

And this profession of their faith may be interpreted in two ways.

Most modern historians would call it, in common with the continual reference to the principles of justice in the political and judicial language of the period,[159] nothing more than a cloak for consummate violence and guilt; and it may easily be proved to have been so in myriads of instances.

But in the main, I believe the expression of feeling to be genuine.

I do not believe, of the majority of the leading Venetians of this period whose portraits have come down to us, that they were deliberately and everlastingly hypocrites.

I see no hypocrisy in their countenances.

Much capacity of it, much subtlety, much natural and acquired reserve; but no meanness.

On the contrary, infinite grandeur, repose, courage, and the peculiar unity and tranquillity of expression which come of sincerity or _wholeness_ of heart, and which it would take much demonstration to make me believe could by any possibility be seen on the countenance of an insincere man.

I trust, therefore, that these Venetian nobles of the fifteenth century did, in the main, desire to do judgment and justice to all men; but, as the whole system of morality had been by this time undermined by the teaching of the Romish Church, the idea of justice had become separated from that of truth, so that dissimulation in the interest of the state assumed the aspect of duty.

We had, perhaps, better consider, with some carefulness, the mode in which our own government is carried on, and the occasional difference between parliamentary and private morality, before we judge mercilessly of the Venetians in this respect.

The secrecy with which their political and criminal trials were conducted, appears to modern eyes like a confession of sinister intentions; but may it not also be considered, and with more probability, as the result of an endeavor to do justice in an age of violence?

--the only means by which Law could establish its footing in the midst of feudalism.

Might not Irish juries at this day justifiably desire to conduct their proceedings with some greater approximation to the judicial principles of the Council of Ten?

Finally, if we examine, with critical accuracy, the evidence on which our present impressions of Venetian government are founded, we shall discover, in the first place, that two-thirds of the traditions of its cruelties are romantic fables: in the second, that the crimes of which it can be proved to have been guilty, differ only from those committed by the other Italian powers in being done less wantonly, and under profounder conviction of their political expediency: and lastly, that the final degradation of the Venetian power appears owing not so much to the principles of its government, as to their being forgotten in the pursuit of pleasure.

§ CXXIX.

We have now examined the portions of the palace which contain the principal evidence of the feeling of its builders.

The capitals of the upper arcade are exceedingly various in their character; their design is formed, as in the lower series, of eight leaves, thrown into volutes at the angles, and sustaining figures at the flanks; but these figures have no inscriptions, and though evidently not without meaning, cannot be interpreted without more knowledge than I possess of ancient symbolism.

Many of the capitals toward the Sea appear to have been restored, and to be rude copies of the ancient ones; others, though apparently original, have been somewhat carelessly wrought; but those of them, which are both genuine and carefully treated, are even finer in composition than any, except the eighteenth, in the lower arcade.

The traveller in Venice ought to ascend into the corridor, and examine with great care the series of capitals which extend on the Piazzetta side from the Fig-tree angle to the pilaster which carries the party wall of the Sala del Gran Consiglio.

As examples of graceful composition in massy capitals meant for hard service and distant effect, these are among the finest things I know in Gothic art; and that above the fig-tree is remarkable for its sculptures of the four winds; each on the side turned towards the wind represented.

Levante, the east wind; a figure with rays round its head, to show that it is always clear weather when that wind blows, raising the sun out of the sea: Hotro, the south wind; crowned, holding the sun in its right hand; Ponente, the west wind; plunging the sun into the sea: and Tramontana, the north wind;

looking up at the north star.

This capital should be carefully examined, if for no other reason than to attach greater distinctness of idea to the magnificent verbiage of Milton: "Thwart of these, as fierce, Forth rush the Levant and the Ponent winds, Eurus, and Zephyr; with their lateral noise, Sirocco and Libecchio."

I may also especially point out the bird feeding its three young ones on the seventh pillar on the Piazzetta side; but there is no end to the fantasy of these sculptures; and the traveller ought to observe them all carefully, until he comes to the great Pilaster or complicated pier which sustains the party wall of the Sala del Consiglio; that is to say, the forty-seventh capital of the whole series, counting from the pilaster of the Vine angle inclusive, as in the series of the lower arcade.

The forty-eighth, forty-ninth, and fiftieth are bad work, but they are old; the fifty-first is the first Renaissance capital of the upper arcade: the first new lion's head with smooth ears, cut in the time of Foscari, is over the fiftieth capital; and that capital, with its shaft, stands on the apex of the eighth arch from the Sea, on the Piazzetta side, of which one spandril is masonry of the fourteenth and the other of the fifteenth century.

§ CXXX.

The reader who is not able to examine the building on the spot may be surprised at the definiteness with which the point of junction is ascertainable; but a glance at the lowest range of leaves in the opposite Plate (XX.

) will enable him to judge of the grounds on which the above statement is made.

Fig. 12 is a cluster of leaves from the capital of the Four Winds; early work of the finest time.

Fig. 13 is a leaf from the great Renaissance capital at the Judgment angle, worked in imitation of the older leafage.

Fig. 14 is a leaf from one of the Renaissance capitals of the upper arcade, which are all worked in the natural manner of the period.

It will be seen that it requires no great ingenuity to distinguish between such design as that of fig. 12 and that of fig. 14. [Illustration: Plate XX.

LEAFAGE OF THE VENETIAN CAPITALS.

] § CXXXI.

It is very possible that the reader may at first like fig. 14 the best.

I shall endeavor, in the next chapter, to show why he should not; but it must also be noted, that fig. 12 has lost, and fig. 14 gained, both largely, under the hands of the engraver.

All the bluntness and coarseness of feeling in the workmanship of fig. 14 have disappeared on this small scale, and all the subtle refinements in the broad masses of fig. 12 have vanished.

They could not, indeed, be rendered in line engraving, unless by the hand of Albert Durer; and I have, therefore, abandoned, for the present, all endeavor to represent any more important mass of the early sculpture of the Ducal Palace: but I trust that, in a few months, casts of many portions will be within the reach of the inhabitants of London, and that they will be able to judge for themselves of their perfect, pure, unlabored naturalism; the freshness, elasticity, and softness of their leafage, united with the most noble symmetry and severe reserve,--no running to waste, no loose or experimental lines, no extravagance, and no weakness.

Their design is always sternly architectural; there is none of the wildness or redundance of natural vegetation, but there is all the strength, freedom, and tossing flow of the breathing leaves, and all the undulation of their surfaces, rippled, as they grew, by the summer winds, as the sands are by the sea.

§ CXXXII.

This early sculpture of the Ducal Palace, then, represents the state of Gothic work in Venice at its central and proudest period, i. e. circa 1350. After this time, all is decline,--of what nature and by what steps, we shall inquire in the ensuing chapter; for as this investigation, though still referring to Gothic architecture, introduces us to the first symptoms of the Renaissance influence, I have considered it as properly belonging to the third division of our subject.

§ CXXXIII.

And as, under the shadow of these nodding leaves, we bid farewell to the great Gothic spirit, here also we may cease our examination of the details of the Ducal Palace; for above its upper arcade there are only the four traceried windows,[160] and one or two of the third order on the Rio Façade, which can be depended upon as exhibiting the original workmanship of the older palace.

I examined the capitals of the four other windows on the façade, and of those on the Piazzetta, one by one, with great care, and I found them all to be of far inferior workmanship to those which retain their traceries: I believe the stone framework of these windows must have been so cracked and injured by the flames of the great fire, as to render it necessary to replace it by new traceries; and that the present mouldings and capitals are base imitations of the original ones.

The traceries were at first, however, restored in their complete form, as the holes for the bolts which fastened the bases of their shafts are still to be seen in the window-sills, as well as the marks of the inner mouldings on the soffits.

How much the stone facing of the façade, the parapets, and the shafts and niches of the angles, retain of their original masonry, it is also impossible to determine; but there is nothing in the workmanship of any of them demanding especial notice; still less in the large central windows on each façade, which are entirely of Renaissance execution.

All that is admirable in these portions of the building is the disposition of their various parts and masses, which is without doubt the same as in the original fabric, and calculated, when seen from a distance, to produce the same impression.

§ CXXXIV.

Not so in the interior.

All vestige of the earlier modes of decoration was here, of course, destroyed by the fires; and the severe and religious work of Guariento and Bellini has been replaced by the wildness of Tintoret and the luxury of Veronese.

But in this case, though widely different in temper, the art of the renewal was at least intellectually as great as that which had perished: and though the halls of the Ducal Palace are no more representative of the character of the men by whom it was built, each of them is still a colossal casket of priceless treasure; a treasure whose safety has till now depended on its being despised, and which at this moment, and as I write, is piece by piece being destroyed for ever.

§ CXXXV.

The reader will forgive my quitting our more immediate subject, in order briefly to explain the causes and the nature of this destruction; for the matter is simply the most important of all that can be brought under our present consideration respecting the state of art in Europe.

The fact is, that the greater number of persons or societies throughout Europe, whom wealth, or chance, or inheritance has put in possession of valuable pictures, do not know a good picture from a bad one,[161] and have no idea in what the value of a picture really consists.

The reputation of certain works is raised, partly by accident, partly by the just testimony of artists, partly by the various and generally bad taste of the public (no picture, that I know of, has ever, in modern times, attained popularity, in the full sense of the term, without having some exceedingly bad qualities mingled with its good ones), and when this reputation has once been completely established, it little matters to what state the picture may be reduced: few minds are so completely devoid of imagination as to be unable to invest it with the beauties which they have heard attributed to it.

§ CXXXVI.

This being so, the pictures that are most valued are for the most part those by masters of established renown, which are highly or neatly finished, and of a size small enough to admit of their being placed in galleries or saloons, so as to be made subjects of ostentation, and to be easily seen by a crowd.

For the support of the fame and value of such pictures, little more is necessary than that they should be kept bright, partly by cleaning, which is incipient destruction, and partly by what is called "restoring," that is, painting over, which is of course total destruction.

Nearly all the gallery pictures in modern Europe have been more or less destroyed by one or other of these operations, generally exactly in proportion to the estimation in which they are held; and as, originally, the smaller and more highly finished works of any great master are usually his worst, the contents of many of our most celebrated galleries are by this time, in reality, of very small value indeed.

§ CXXXVII.

On the other hand, the most precious works of any noble painter are usually those which have been done quickly, and in the heat of the first thought, on a large scale, for places where there was little likelihood of their being well seen, or for patrons from whom there was little prospect of rich remuneration.

In general, the best things are done in this way, or else in the enthusiasm and pride of accomplishing some great purpose, such as painting a cathedral or a camposanto from one end to the other, especially when the time has been short, and circumstances disadvantageous.

§ CXXXVIII.

Works thus executed are of course despised, on account of their quantity, as well as their frequent slightness, in the places where they exist; and they are too large to be portable, and too vast and comprehensive to be read on the spot, in the hasty temper of the present age.

They are, therefore, almost universally neglected, whitewashed by custodes, shot at by soldiers, suffered to drop from the walls piecemeal in powder and rags by society in general; but, which is an advantage more than counterbalancing all this evil, they are not often "restored."

What is left of them, however fragmentary, however ruinous, however obscured and defiled, is almost always _the real thing_; there are no fresh readings: and therefore the greatest treasures of art which Europe at this moment possesses are pieces of old plaster on ruinous brick walls, where the lizards burrow and bask, and which few other living creatures ever approach; and torn sheets of dim canvas, in waste corners of churches; and mildewed stains, in the shape of human figures, on the walls of dark chambers, which now and then an exploring traveller causes to be unlocked by their tottering custode, looks hastily round, and retreats from in a weary satisfaction at his accomplished duty.

§ CXXXIX.

Many of the pictures on the ceilings and walls of the Ducal Palace, by Paul Veronese and Tintoret, have been more or less reduced, by neglect, to this condition.

Unfortunately they are not altogether without reputation, and their state has drawn the attention of the Venetian authorities and academicians.

It constantly happens, that public bodies who will not pay five pounds to preserve a picture, will pay fifty to repaint it:[162] and when I was at Venice in 1846, there were two remedial operations carrying on, at one and the same time, in the two buildings which contain the pictures of greatest value in the city (as pieces of color, of greatest value in the world), curiously illustrative of this peculiarity in human nature.

Buckets were set on the floor of the Scuola di San Rocco, in every shower, to catch the rain which came through the pictures of Tintoret on the ceiling; while in the Ducal Palace, those of Paul Veronese were themselves laid on the floor to be repainted; and I was myself present at the re-illumination of the breast of a white horse, with a brush, at the end of a stick five feet long, luxuriously dipped in a common house-painter's vessel of paint.

This was, of course, a large picture.

The process has already been continued in an equally destructive, though somewhat more delicate manner, over the whole of the humbler canvases on the ceiling of the Sala del Gran Consiglio; and I heard it threatened when I was last in Venice (1851-2) to the "Paradise" at its extremity, which is yet in tolerable condition,--the largest work of Tintoret, and the most wonderful piece of pure, manly, and masterly oil-painting in the world.

§ CXL.

I leave these facts to the consideration of the European patrons of art.

Twenty years hence they will be acknowledged and regretted; at present, I am well aware, that it is of little use to bring them forward, except only to explain the present impossibility of stating what pictures _are_, and what _were_, in the interior of the Ducal Palace.

I can only say, that in the winter of 1851, the "Paradise" of Tintoret was still comparatively uninjured, and that the Camera di Collegio, and its antechamber, and the Sala de' Pregadi were full of pictures by Veronese and Tintoret, that made their walls as precious as so many kingdoms; so precious indeed, and so full of majesty, that sometimes when walking at evening on the Lido, whence the great chain of the Alps, crested with silver clouds, might be seen rising above the front of the Ducal Palace, I used to feel as much awe in gazing on the building as on the hills, and could believe that God had done a greater work in breathing into the narrowness of dust the mighty spirits by whom its haughty walls had been raised, and its burning legends written, than in lifting the rocks of granite higher than the clouds of heaven, and veiling them with their various mantle of purple flower and shadowy pine.

FOOTNOTES

[99] The reader will find it convenient to note the following editions of the printed books which have been principally consulted in the following inquiry.

The numbers of the manuscripts referred to in the Marcian Library are given with the quotations.

Sansovino.

Venetia Descritta.

4to, Venice, 1663. Sansovino.

Lettera intorno al Palazzo Ducale.

8vo, Venice, 1829. Temanza.

Antica Pianta di Venezia, with text.

Venice, 1780. Cadorin.

Pareri di XV.

Architetti.

8vo, Venice, 1838. Filiasi.

Memorie storiche.

8vo, Padua, 1811. Bettio.

Lettera discorsiva del Palazzo Ducale.

8vo, Venice, 1837. Selvatico.

Architettura di Venezia.

8vo, Venice, 1847. [100] The year commonly given is 810, as in the Savina Chronicle (Cod.

Marcianus), p. 13. "Del 810 fece principiar el pallazzo Ducal nel luogo ditto Bruolo in confin di S. Moisè, et fece riedificar la isola di Eraclia."

The Sagornin Chronicle gives 804; and Filiasi, vol. vi.

chap.

1, corrects this date to 813. [101] "Ampliò la città, fornilla di casamenti, _e per il culto d' Iddio e l' amministrazione della giustizia_ eresse la cappella di S. Marco, e il palazzo di sua residenza."

--Pareri, p. 120. Observe, that piety towards God, and justice towards man, have been at least the nominal purposes of every act and institution of ancient Venice.

Compare also Temanza, p. 24. "Quello che abbiamo di certo si è che il suddetto Agnello lo incominciò da fondamenti, e cost pure la cappella ducale di S. Marco."

[102] What I call the Sea, was called "the Grand Canal" by the Venetians, as well as the great water street of the city; but I prefer calling it "the Sea," in order to distinguish between that street and the broad water in front of the Ducal Palace, which, interrupted only by the island of San Giorgio, stretches for many miles to the south, and for more than two to the boundary of the Lido.

It was the deeper channel, just in front of the Ducal Palace, continuing the line of the great water street itself which the Venetians spoke of as "the Grand Canal."

The words of Sansovino are: "Fu cominciato dove si vede, vicino al ponte della paglia, et rispondente sul canal grande."

Filiasi says simply: "The palace was built where it now is."

"Il palazio fu fatto dove ora pure esiste."

--Vol. iii.

chap.

27. The Savina Chronicle, already quoted, says: "In the place called the Bruolo (or Broglio), that is to say, on the Piazzetta."

[103] "Omni decoritate illius perlustrata."

--Sagornino, quoted by Cadorin and Temanza.

[104] There is an interesting account of this revolt in Monaci, p. 68. Some historians speak of the palace as having been destroyed entirely; but, that it did not even need important restorations, appears from Sagornino's expression, quoted by Cadorin and Temanza.

Speaking of the Doge Participazio, he says: "Qui Palatii hucusque manentis fuerit fabricator."

The reparations of the palace are usually attributed to the successor of Candiano, Pietro Orseolo I. ;

but the legend, under the picture of that Doge in the Council Chamber, speaks only of his rebuilding St. Mark's, and "performing many miracles."

His whole mind seems to have been occupied with ecclesiastical affairs; and his piety was finally manifested in a way somewhat startling to the state, by his absconding with a French priest to St. Michael's, in Gascony, and there becoming a monk.

What repairs, therefore, were necessary to the Ducal Palace, were left to be undertaken by his son, Orseolo II.

, above named.

[105] "Quam non modo marmoreo, verum aureo compsit ornamento."

--_Temanza_, p. 25. [106] "L'anno 1106, uscito fuoco d'una casa privata, arse parte del palazzo."

--_Sansovino_.

Of the beneficial effect of these fires, vide Cadorin, p. 121, 123. [107] "Urbis situm, ædificiorum decorem, et regiminis æquitatem multipliciter commendavit."

--_Cronaca Dandolo_, quoted by Cadorin.

[108] "Non solamente rinovò il palazzo, ma lo aggrandì per ogni verso."

--_Sansovino_.

Zanotto quotes the Altinat Chronicle for account of these repairs.

[109] "El palazzo che anco di mezzo se vede vecchio, per M. Sebastian Ziani fu fatto compir, come el se vede."

--_Chronicle of Pietro Dolfino_, Cod.

Ven.

p. 47. This Chronicle is spoken of by Sansovino as "molto particolare e distinta."

--_Sansovino, Venezia descritta_, p. 593. --It terminates in the year 1422. [110] See Vol. I.

Appendix 3. [111] Vide Sansovino's enumeration of those who flourished in the reign of Gradenigo, p. 564. [112] Sansovino, 324, 1. [113] "1301 fu presa parte di fare una sala grande per la riduzione del gran consiglio, e fu fatta quella che ora si chiama dello Scrutinio."

--_Cronaca Sivos_, quoted by Cadorin.

There is another most interesting entry in the Chronicle of Magno, relating to this event; but the passage is so ill written, that I am not sure if I have deciphered it correctly:--"Del 1301 fu preso de fabrichar la sala fo ruina e fu fata (fatta) quella se adoperava a far el pregadi e fu adopera per far el Gran Consegio fin 1423, che fu anni 122." This last sentence, which is of great importance, is luckily unmistakable:--"The room was used for the meetings of the Great Council until 1423, that is to say, for 122 years."

--_Cod.

Ven_.

tom.

i.

p. 126. The Chronicle extends from 1253 to 1454. [114] "Vi era appresso la Cancellaria, e la Gheba o Gabbia, chiamata poi Torresella."

--P.

324. A small square tower is seen above the Vine angle in the view of Venice dated 1500, and attributed to Albert Durer.

It appears about 25 feet square, and is very probably the Torresella in question.

[115] Vide Bettio, Lettera, p. 23. [116] Bettio, Lettera, p. 20. "Those who wrote without having seen them described them as covered with lead; and those who have seen them know that, between their flat timber roofs and the sloping leaden roof of the palace, the interval is five metres where it is least, and nine where it is greatest."

[117] "Questo Dose anche fese far la porta granda che se al intrar del Pallazzo, in su la qual vi e la sua statua che sta in zenocchioni con lo confalon in man, davanti li pie de lo Lion S. Marco,"--_Savin Chronicle_, Cod.

Ven.

p. 120. [118] These documents I have not examined myself, being satisfied of the accuracy of Cadorin, from whom I take the passages quoted.

[119] "Libras tres, soldos 15 grossorum."

--_Cadorin_, 189, 1. [120] Cod.

Ven.

, No. CXLI.

p. 365. [121] Sansovino is more explicit than usual in his reference to this decree: "For it having appeared that the place (the first Council Chamber) was not capacious enough, the saloon on the Grand Canal was ordered."

"Per cio parendo che il luogo non fosse capace, fu ordinata la Sala sul Canal Grande."

--P.

324. [122] Cadorin, 185, 2. The decree of 1342 is falsely given as of 1345 by the Sivos Chronicle, and by Magno; while Sanuto gives the decree to its right year, 1342, but speaks of the Council Chamber as only begun in 1345. [123] Calendario.

See Appendix 1, Vol. III.

[124] "Il primo che vi colorisse fu Guariento, il quale l' anno 1365 vi fece il Paradiso in testa della sala."

--_Sansovino.

_ [125] "L' an poi 1400 vi fece il cielo compartita a quadretti d'oro, ripieni di stelle, ch' era la insegna del Doge Steno."

--_Sansovino_, lib.

VIII.

[126] "In questi tempi si messe in oro il cielo della sala del Gran Consiglio et si fece il pergolo del finestra grande chi guarda sul canale, adornato l'uno e l'altro di stelle, ch' erano l'insegne del Doge."

--_Sansovino_, lib.

XIII.

Compare also Pareri, p. 129. [127] Baseggio (Pareri, p. 127) is called the Proto of the _New_ Palace.

Farther notes will be found in Appendix 1, Vol. III.

[128] Cronaca Sanudo, No. CXXV.

in the Marcian Library, p. 568. [129] Tomaso Mocenigo.

[130] Vide notes in Appendix.

[131] On the 4th of April, 1423, according to the copy of the Zancarol Chronicle in the Marcian Library, but previously, according to the Caroldo Chronicle, which makes Foscari enter the Senate as Doge on the 3rd of April.

[132] "Nella quale (the Sala del Gran Consiglio) non si fece Gran Consiglio salvo nell' anno 1423, alli 3 April, et fu il primo giorno che il Duce Foscari venisse in Gran Consiglio dopo la sua creatione."

--Copy in Marcian Library, p. 365. [133] "E a di 23 April (1423, by the context) sequente fo fatto Gran Conseio in la salla nuovo dovi avanti non esta più fatto Gran Conseio si che el primo Gran Conseio dopo la sua (Foscari's) creation, fo fatto in la salla nuova, nel qual conseio fu el Marchese di Mantoa," &c. , p. 426. [134] Compare Appendix 1, Vol. III.

[135] "Tutte queste fatture si compirono sotto il dogado del Foscari, nel 1441." --_Pareri_, p. 131. [136] This identification has been accomplished, and I think conclusively, by my friend Mr. Rawdon Brown, who has devoted all the leisure which, during the last twenty years, his manifold offices of kindness to almost every English visitant of Venice have left him, in discovering and translating the passages of the Venetian records which bear upon English history and literature.

I shall have occasion to take advantage hereafter of a portion of his labors, which I trust will shortly be made public.

[137] See the last chapter of the third volume.

[138] "IN XRI--NOIE AMEN ANNINCARNATIONIS MCCCXVII.

INESETBR."

"In the name of Christ, Amen, in the year of the incarnation, 1317, in the month of September," &c. [139] "Oh, venerable Raphael, make thou the gulf calm, we beseech thee."