VENICE 



601 



stones in order that the blood should 

 easily be wiped from it. 



THE PRESS OF GONDOLAS 



With a sensation of relief we return 

 to the open air, to the grand piazzetta, 

 where the sea breeze blows, where the 

 "Zecca" opens its pillared halls — that an- 

 cient mint which as early as the year 

 1280 coined gold sequins. And what a 

 press of gondolas ! On every side is 

 heard the cry 'Xa barca, Signore !" 

 "Commanda la barca?" The gondolier 

 greets us, his oar in his left hand, his 

 right raised with a slight gesture of salu- 

 tation; the blue shirt, bound at the waist 

 by a red sash, reveals his open breast, and 

 his sunburnt face looks frankly at us. A 

 moment and the picturesque, sinewy fig- 

 ure is in full movement ; the oar dips into 

 the wave and the bark shoots like an ar- 

 row along the Grand Canal (see p. 576). 



It is the largest of the 400 watery ways 

 which intersect Venice. Nearly 4 miles 

 in length stretches the broad stream from 

 Santa Chiara to the Giudecca. Along 

 the Canal Grande rise the noblest palaces 

 of those great old families whose names 

 were written in the 'Xibro d'Oro"- — the 

 Golden Book — of the Republic. That 

 book was burned on the open piazza in 

 1797, when the Western Tempest broke 

 over Venice ; it was a hurricane such as 

 even those children of the ocean have 

 never yet witnessed, and its name was 

 Bgalite ! 



On the narrow point of land exactly 

 opposite to the steps of the piazzetta are 

 the Dogana di Mare (sea custom-house) 

 and the Seminary of the Patriarch, both 

 dominated by the fine church of Santa 

 Maria della Salute. This church was 

 built as a votive offering by the Venetians 

 in the time of the plague, after more than 

 40,000 persons had fallen victims to the 

 pestilence, and has come to be one of the 

 great landmarks of the city, with its gi- 

 gantic cupola and white mass of building 

 shimmering in the morning light. In al- 

 most every pictorial representation of 

 Venice you see Santa Maria della Salute. 



WONDERFUL PALACES 



We glide onward until we come oppo- 

 site to the Palazzo Contarini Fasan (see 



page 578), and here the gondolier pauses. 

 It is one of the finest facades in Venice ; 

 the marble balconies are as delicate and 

 slender as if worked in precious metals ; 

 tall and narrow rise the arched windows, 

 with their columns opening onto the bal- 

 cony; and yet amidst all this elegance 

 there is a strength which shows us that 

 mighty times and mighty men once 

 reigned here. 



Now great names throng upon us. 

 Here is the palazzo corner, and there are. 

 the houses of the Foscari, the Balbi, 

 Mocenigo, Grimani, and Loredan. Be- 

 fore each princely door are white marble 

 steps leading down into the water, and 

 great wooden posts — painted with the 

 colors of the family — which serve to 

 moor the gondolas to. 



A CITY ON PILES 



We pursue our voyage, and a splendid 

 arch is suddenly seen spanning the Canal 

 Grande ; it is the Bridge of the Rialto 

 (see page 580), for a long time the only 

 one which crossed the Grand Canal, and 

 still by far the most interesting of all the 

 bridges that Venice possesses. 



A busy tide of life flows hitherward, 

 for it is the central point for retail deal- 

 ers. Here the fishermen bring their wares 

 to market ; here the laws of the old Re- 

 public were published at a column which 

 bears the name of the "Gobbo di Rialto" 

 (the hunchback of the Rialto), and on 

 the bridge itself stands a double row of 

 little hotteghe (shops), built of marble 

 and roofed with lead. 



As the story goes, the first of them 

 were erected because it was feared that 

 the bridge might be forced upward in the 

 center ; and Da Ponte, whose opinion was 

 asked, advised in his last moments that 

 the two ends of the bridge should be 

 weighted in this manner. Thus the Ponte 

 di Rialto obtained the upper buildings, 

 which give it almost an inhabited air, but 

 deprive it of the imposing boldness which 

 once distinguished the unencumbered 

 arch. It is nearly 150 feet wide, and its 

 foundations under water rest upon a 

 platform of 12,000 piles. 



In the same manner, as is well known, 

 all the houses and palaces in A'^enice have 

 arisen out of the sea; the whole city is 



