On the Day preceding, the Doge accompany'd by the Amba.s.sadors repairs with a great Train to St. _Mark_'s Church, where he a.s.sists at the Vespers.

Next Day the Confraternities, who are nine in number, meet at the Ducal Palace, accompany the Doge to Church in Procession, and are present at High Ma.s.s. After this the Doge returns to his Palace, and the Brotherhoods go round the Square. Each Society has magnificent Images, and two Canopies richly embroider'd with Gold and Silver; whose Poles or Supporters are of solid Silver. The Procession is clos'd by a Man dress'd in a Gown of red Damask, carrying a Pole with a moving Wheel at the end of it; which serves to support a gilt Lion surrounded with Laurel Branches, and little Standards of divers Colours. The Lion turns round incessantly, and the Man who carries it makes him leap, and play a hundred Gambols: He is surrounded with a Mult.i.tude of People, who cry out, G.o.d bless St. _Mark_.

This Sight, how ridiculous soever, is nevertheless amusing, draws abundance of the n.o.bility to the Square, and on that Day every body is mask'd. After the Procession is over, the Maskers go to see the Doge's Table, who entertains the Amba.s.sadors and the Senate at Dinner, on a Table in form of a Horse-shoe; which is extravagantly adorn'd with Kickshaws, and Machines made of Starch, which are here call'd _Triumphs_.

Nothing of the kind can be better executed, or more magnificent. As there is a great Apprehension of a Croud, all the Maskers are turn'd away at Dinner-time. They keep on their Masks all day long; and after Dinner all the n.o.bility, or to speak more properly, the whole City of _Venice_ appears mask'd upon the Square of St. _Mark_; and indeed, for one who never saw it before, 'tis a remarkable fine Shew. What surpriz'd me, and if I may say it, made me laugh, was to see all the Maskers fall on their Knees at the Sound of the _Angelus_; you wou'd swear every body was in Rapture, yet every thing that goes before and that follows the Stroke of the Bell is not the most devout.

The Day after St. _Mark_'s we had another publick Shew, and by consequence a fresh occasion for the _Venetians_ to masquerade it. That was the Election which the Fishermen, who are here call'd the _Nicolotti_, made of a Chief, who bears the t.i.tle of the Doge of the _Nicolotti_. Their Choice fell this Bout upon a Gondolier belonging to the n.o.ble _Giustiniani_.

After the Election he was conducted to an Audience of the Doge of _Venice_, dress'd in a Robe of red Sattin, and otherwise accoutred like a Jackpudding. He was preceded by a great Mob of Pipers, Hautboys, and Fishermen. Just before him was carry'd a red Flag, with the Effigies of St. _Mark_. The Doge receiv'd him sitting on his Throne, and attended by the Council. The Complement of the Doge of the Fishermen was made with great Gravity, and answer'd by the Doge of the Republick in few Words; which done, he return'd in the same Order that he came. This sham Doge has authority over all the Fishermen, is their Judge, gives them Licence to fish, and takes care that the City be well supplied with that sort of Provision. 'Tis said that this Office, which is for Life, is worth above 1000 Crowns _per Annum_. He had formerly the Privilege of commanding in a certain Quarter of the City, and a.s.sisted at all the Ceremonies where the Doge was present: He even accompany'd that Prince on board the _Bucentaur_, and had Precedency of all the Amba.s.sadors; but they have lost that Right since, upon what occasion I know not, they gave up the Precedency to an Amba.s.sador from the Emperor.

The Patriarch of _Venice_ is the second Person in the State. The present Patriarch is of the Family of _Gradenigo_. The Authority of this Prelate is so stinted, that he only nominates to two or three Benefices. The Inhabitants of every Parish chuse their Parsons, which is always attended with Intriguing; for their Livings being very lucrative, have great Interest made for them. The Patriot has a Privilege of having a Gondola painted Purple and Gold, with a Roof or Covering of Red Velvet; but this Gondola must not exceed a certain Degree of Magnificence. You know that the Gondolas of private Men must be black, and that none but Amba.s.sadors have the Privilege of having theirs gilded.

Tho' the Churches of _Venice_ have been sufficiently describ'd, I cannot help saying something of those that I thought the most remarkable. Without doubt the Front of the Church of the bare-footed _Carmelites_, situate upon the Great Ca.n.a.l, is the most magnificent, not only of _Venice_, but perhaps of _Europe_; as well with regard to the Proportions of Architecture that have been carefully observ'd, as with regard to the Fineness of the Marble, white as Alabaster, with which this beautiful Front is wholly embellish'd. The Inside of this Church is extremely magnificent. The Roof is richly gilded, and curiously painted. The Walls are fac'd with Marble Pilasters; the Floor is of Stones inlaid with various Colours, and the Altars are exceeding stately: But of all these different things there seems to be too great a number, so that I could wish many of the Ornaments had been spar'd; for a n.o.ble Simplicity wou'd have look'd much better.

This sort of Simplicity is conspicuous in the Church of St. _George_, one of the biggest in _Venice_, the Architecture of which is surprizing. A Convent belongs to it, which for Magnificence and Regularity surpa.s.ses many Sovereign Palaces. The great Stair-Case is a fine piece of Architecture, and wou'd become a King's Palace much better than a Convent.

This House has two n.o.ble Cloysters planted with Orange-Trees, a couple of s.p.a.cious Courts, and two large Gardens well cultivated, which have Terra.s.ses from whence there is a Prospect of the Sea, and the neighbouring Islands.

The Capuchins, whose Churches are very plain every where else, have a very n.o.ble one here, which is called _Al Redemptore_. It was built by order of the Republic to discharge a Vow they had made in the time of a Plague. The honest Capuchin who shew'd me the Church, made me take special notice of a Crucifix of Bra.s.s over the high Altar, whereon our Saviour is represented expiring, with his Head leaning on his right Shoulder. My Guide a.s.sur'd me that when the Crucifix was plac'd in the Church the Head of our Lord's Image was erect, but that it fell afterwards into its present Posture.

There are other Churches worth seeing, were it only for the stately Tombs of the most distinguish'd Families of the Republic. Such is the Tomb of the n.o.ble Family of _Cornaro_, in the Church of the _Cajetans_, where are the Marble Effigies of eight Cardinals, and four Doges descended from that Family. In the Churches of St. _Paul_ and St. _John_ are Pictures very much esteem'd by the _Connoisseurs_, and there's the sumptuous Tomb of the _Valerios_, where the Father, the Mother, with the Son, are carv'd in their natural Proportion in Marble, apparell'd in the Habit of the Doge and Dogess.

Before I have done with the Churches, I think I ought to give you some account of that of the _Jesuits_; the Front whereof is of n.o.ble Architecture, well disposed, and the Ornaments not too much crouded; but the Decoration of the Inside is really grand. Nothing can be richer than the Choir, and the high Altar. The Choir consists of a s.p.a.cious Dome supported by four large Pillars of white Marble, lin'd with great Flower-pieces of old green Marble. The Roof is painted and gilt. The high Altar, which is all of Marble, is a Pavilion or Dome supported by ten Columns wreath'd of the ancient _Greek_ Marble. The Tabernacle is of Alabaster, incrustated with _Lapis-Lazuli_. To all this rich Work are added two Angels in their natural Proportion, over which are the Effigies of G.o.d the Father, and G.o.d the Son. The five Steps leading to the Altar are of green Marble, incrustated with old yellow Marble so artfully that this Work would easily be taken for a Piece of _Persian_ Tapestry. The Pulpit and the Bal.u.s.trade, which separates the Nave from the Choir, are of Marble, and perfectly answerable to the Magnificence of the whole Church.

I now proceed to the a.r.s.enal, so much celebrated in _Europe_, perhaps more for what it has been than what it is at present. Three n.o.bles have the Management or Custody of it, who relieve one another every Week. He that is in waiting must visit the Posts in the Night-time; and the Centinels are oblig'd each to ring a Bell every Hour, that the Officer upon Guard may know they are at their Posts. No body can see the a.r.s.enal without Leave of the n.o.bleman in waiting, who never refuses it to Persons of Rank.

The first thing I was shew'd were four Rooms full of Arms necessary for the Marines, where are also kept the Cuira.s.ses of those Generals who have most distinguish'd themselves in the Service of the Republic; but they are all full of Dust. Then I was shewed the Magazine of Anchors, and the Cellar to which the Workmen of the a.r.s.enal go when they please to a Fountain of Wine and Water mix'd. As much diluted as this Wine is, 'tis said that there's no less spent here every Year than amounts to 74000 Crowns. This is an Endowment which was settled by one _Cornaro_ Queen of _Cyprus_, for the Relief of the Workmen. Near this Cellar are the Forges, of which there are twelve; but there are only two actually at work. The Rope-Yard just by it, is 410 Paces in length, and serves at the same time for a Warehouse of Hemp, of which I did not see any great Quant.i.ty. In another Court there were a great many Cannon, both Iron and Bra.s.s, a Room full of Bullets, a Magazine of Cordage, a Timber-Yard, and three great Rooms full of Arms for the Foot Soldiers. There was another that serv'd as an a.r.s.enal for the Horse, but 'twas lately burnt down by the Carelessness of a Centinel. The Dock for building and refitting of Ships forms a separate Court, in the midst of which there's a great Bason that communicates with the Sea, and is encompa.s.s'd with twenty six Sheds cover'd over, which contain as many Ships, Galleys, and Gallea.s.ses. The latter are Machines of a terrible Size, which have a sort of Battery at both ends. My Guide a.s.sur'd me that a _Venetian_ Gallea.s.s was not afraid of twenty five _Turkish_ Galleys: This may be; but I wou'd venture a Wager on the side of the Infidels. In this same Dock are the Prowes of twelve _Turkish_ Galleys taken at the famous Battle of _Lepanto_. But the most n.o.ble thing in all this Dock, is the _Bucentaur_, which went out of Port for the first time in the Year 1728. This superb Vessel was built by _Antonio Corradini_; and is so well design'd, and the Ornaments of Sculpture, of which there's a great number, so well plac'd, that every thing is easily distinguish'd, and strikes with Amazement. 'Tis gilded down to the Water-edge, and 'tis said that the Expence of it amounted to 70000 Sequins. The Deck is cover'd from Head to Stern with Crimson-Velvet, bedaub'd with a broad Lace, and Gold Fringes. And the inside if possible is more magnificent than the Outside. There's a great Room the length of the Ship, where the Doge sits on a Throne, and the Amba.s.sadors and Senators on Seats like those of the Canons in the Choir. The Cieling consists of Bas-reliefs in divers Compartments intirely gilt. The Floor is of Walnut-tree, incrusted with Ebony-Wood and Mother of Pearl. The Rowers who sit in the Hold of the Ship are all of one Livery, and their Oars gilt, which makes a very fine Sight when all hands strike together.

You know that the _Bucentaur_ never goes out but once a-year, upon Ascension-day, when the Captain who then commands must take an Oath before he stirs out of the Harbour, that he will bring her back again into the a.r.s.enal. He carries nothing aboard of his own, for unless the Weather be very fair indeed, the Ceremony is put off to another day. They build a new _Bucentaur_ every hundred Years, and the old ones are laid up till they rot.

I just now hear that the Post is going off, so that I am oblig'd to defer what I have farther to say of _Venice_ till the next. I shall be infinitely pleas'd if I can satisfy your Curiosity, and much more if I can prove to you that no body has a more profound Veneration for you than I, _Who am_, &c.

[Ill.u.s.tration]

LETTER XXVI.

_SIR_, _Venice, May 15, 1730._

The Common-wealth keeps twelve Galleys in pay, and twenty Men of War. The _Capitana_ Galley, call'd the _Fusta_, never goes out of the Great Ca.n.a.l, but is continually at Anchor before the Square of St. _Mark_. There's commonly four Galleys and as many Men of War in the _Levant_. Others lie at Anchor in the Ca.n.a.l of _Zueca_, which were lately drawn out of the a.r.s.enal, because for want of Water the Ships receive Damage. The Power of the Republic consists chiefly in its Maritime Force. It maintains very few Land Forces, and those they have are all kept at _Corfou_, which is the Rampart of _Venice_, and the Defence of the Gulph; the Preservation of which is owing to the Count _de Schulemburg_, General in chief of the Republic; for in the last War when the _Turks_ attempted to take it, 'twas he that oblig'd them to raise the Siege: And the Republic in acknowledgment of this important Service caus'd his Statue on Horseback to be erected in the Square of the Old Castle of _Corfou_; and settled a Pension upon him of 5000 Crowns a-year for his Life, besides his ordinary Salary.

'Tis certain that _Venice_ has suffer'd a Decay both of Power and Commerce. The _Turks_ have taken the _Morea_ from her; she has little or nothing left in the _Levant_; and as to her Places in the _Terra Firma_ they are poor, depopulated, and meanly fortified. One of the main Securities of _Venice_ is her Lakes; but for some Years past they begin to thicken so by the Mud and Dirt brought by the Rivers which fall into the Gulph, as in time must prove to the very great Detriment of _Venice_, because Ships which us'd formerly to go in or out with ease, can only go out now by the help of a Ca.n.a.l which has been cut for the purpose. This Inconvenience might have formerly been prevented for a trifle of Expence, whereas now 'tis past all remedy.

The Powers of which the _Venetians_ ought to be most jealous, are the _Turks_ and the Emperor, in whose Dominions they are in a manner inclos'd.

The Great Duke of _Tuscany_ and the Duke of _Parma_ were formerly Powers which were of little or no Terror to the Republic; but if those Dominions shou'd ever come under the Sovereignty of _Don Carlos_, the political System of _Italy_ will be very much alter'd, and the _Venetians_ will in all probability be oblig'd to keep fair with him. The Republic has for a long time observ'd an exact Neutrality in the Quarrels among the Princes of Christendom, perhaps because it knows not for which side to determine itself; for tho' the Senate hates the _Spaniards_, and cannot forget the famous Conspiracy of the Marquiss _de Bedmar_ the Catholic King's Amba.s.sador; they don't much like either the _Germans_ or _French_, whose Power gives them Umbrage. And I believe, were it possible for the _Venetians_ to hurt those three Powers at the same time, we shou'd quickly see their Republic rouze itself from that Lethargy in which it's profound State-Policy has doz'd it.

Since the _English_ and _Dutch_ became Masters of the Commerce of _Europe_, the Trade of _Venice_ is as much decay'd as its Power; and their Manufactures are sunk extremely. The _Venetians_ heretofore furnished almost all _Europe_ with Cloth; their Looking-Gla.s.ses, and those for Drinking, were also in great vogue, but those Manufactures are since transplanted into other Countries, so that _Venice_ scarce furnishes any more than _Italy_. 'Tis worth while however to go and see the Gla.s.s-House where they work Night and Day, except in _August_ and _September_, when the Heats are too violent. 'Tis certain the Drinking-Gla.s.ses made here are much stronger than any other, but as they are blown they are not near so substantial as the Gla.s.s that is run; however they require less Labour, and have the Advantage when they are broke of being melted again; the Matter of which they are composed being much more flexible than that of the run Gla.s.s.

The n.o.bles of _Venice_ are Slaves to Policy, Diffidence, and Suspicion; and Amba.s.sadors are much more so, whom every one shuns as suspected Persons, and whom a Foreigner can scarce talk to without renouncing his Correspondence with the n.o.bles. An Amba.s.sador is oblig'd to confine himself to his own Family, or else to amuse himself in the Company of Foreigners, of whom there is always a good number in this City; for no n.o.bleman dare visit him without the express leave of the Senate, who now indeed grant it much more freely than they did formerly.

Customs are alter'd here in very many things. 'Twas formerly a Crime to see a Woman in private, and a Foreigner did not dare to run the Venture; but now the case is quite different, for there are several Houses of Quality where I am indulg'd, and am often _tete a tete_ with the Mistress of the House, without any more notice taken of me than if I were in _France_, where Ease and Freedom are so much boasted. The Ladies are great Visiters, and have a.s.semblies every Night, to which they repair alone in their Gondola's without any other Attendance but a Valet de Chambre, who serves as their Gentleman-Usher. They are mask'd at all public Performances, and go where they have a mind to it. This easy access to the Ladies contributes not a little to make my Stay in this City agreeable. I own to you that I am infinitely charm'd with it; there are a thousand Things here that please me, and were I to chuse any City in _Italy_ to live in, 'twould certainly be this, where People enjoy entire Liberty, provided they don't meddle with the State and its Government, which after all too, I don't think a Foreigner has much to do with. Here one is in the Centre of civil Pleasures and Debauchery. G.o.d is as exemplarily serv'd here as in any Place whatsoever. Few Nations observe the Externals of Religion better than the _Italians_ in general and the _Venetians_ in particular, of whom it may be said that they spend one half of their time in committing Sin, and the other half in begging G.o.d's pardon.

Masquerades are more in fashion here than elsewhere. People go in Masks to take the Air, as well as to Plays and b.a.l.l.s; and 'tis the favourite Pleasure both of the Grandees and the Commonalty. This gives rise to many Adventures, and sometimes one makes Acquaintance under a Mask which would be impracticable perhaps, were not such Disguises in Fashion. I remember that the first time I was here I struck up an Acquaintance in the Square of St. _Mark_ with two of the first-rate Ladies of this Country. They were mask'd, and I was in a Scarlet Domino embroider'd with Silver, which being a Habit that had been seldom seen here, drew the Eyes of all the Company in the Square upon me, and in particular of two Ladies, one of whom twitching me by the Sleeve, said to me, 'Sir, I and the Lady here, my Friend, fancy by your Air which outstrips our Gentlemen, that you are a Foreigner, and we are inclin'd to think that you are no mean Person. We should be glad of your Conversation, and you will do us a Pleasure to take a turn with us round the Square.--You do me too much Honour, fair Lady (said I, walking on) and what you tell me of my Appearance pleases me the more because you are both the compleatest Ladies in the Place. As you guess by my Habit that I am not a common Person, your Air persuades me that I have the Honour to speak to Ladies of Quality.--You are not mistaken (said the same Lady to me) this Lady my Companion is Madame _M----_ and I am the Wife of Mr. _C----_. You find (continu'd she) that our Names are pretty well known in _Venice_. Now, after having told you who we are, may we presume to ask who you are?' I gratify'd their Curiosity by pulling off my Mask, which I thought a Compliment due to their Quality. I had scarce told my Name, when the Lady who had not yet spoke one Word, said to me, 'You are not so much a Stranger among us as you imagine; your Name is very well known to me, and the late Madame _Duhamel_, your Aunt, whose[164] Husband was Commander in chief of our Forces, was one of my most intimate Friends, and she often told me how much she wish'd to see you here; but 'twas a Comfort she did not live to enjoy. She went with her Husband to _Corfou_, where he died not without Suspicion of Poison; for he was accus'd of being too great a _Frenchman_; and your Aunt who was return'd from _Corfou_ with a Design to go and spend the Remainder of her Days at _Berlin_, died as she was performing Quarentine in our Port. You caus'd her Body to be remov'd to _Berlin_, and you was one of her Heirs; and, tho' I don't mention it to make a Merit of it, I must tell you that you are oblig'd to me for it, since I pleaded for you against a very great number of M. _Duhamel_'s Relations. My Love to your Aunt put me upon engaging Mr. _M----_ to espouse your Interest, which he promoted with Success, and prevail'd on the Senate to prefer the Recommendations of the King of _Prussia_ and the Elector of _Hanover_ who both protected you, before the Instances made by the _French_ Amba.s.sador in the Name of the King his Master, in favour of Messieurs _Duhamel_. I was infinitely pleas'd (continu'd Madame _M----_) that I had an Opportunity of serving you, and you may depend upon it that Mr. _M----_ and I shall ever interest our selves heartily for all that belong to our deceased Friend.' I made answer to Madame _M----_ in Terms suitable to her obliging Expressions, and crav'd her Permission to pay my respects to her at her House. She answer'd me very civilly that she would send her Husband to me, and that then she should be glad to see me at her House. Next Morning as I was ready to go out, and wait upon Mr. _M----_ to whom I thought I ow'd a Visit after the Civilities I had receiv'd from his Wife, I was told that he was at my Door and desir'd to speak with me. I went and receiv'd him, and found him every whit as polite as his Lady. He offer'd to shew me the Curiosities of _Venice_ till his Wife was stirring. We went and saw several Churches, after which he conducted me to his House where I found Madame _M----_ who receiv'd me with all the Civility possible. She was a Woman who tho' forty Years of Age shew'd that she had been a very beautiful Lady in her time. Madame _C----_ happen'd to be in her Company, with whom she had been the Day before in the Square of St. _Mark_. I never saw a more beautiful Lady, or that had a n.o.bler Carriage. She was not yet twenty Years of Age, but had been marry'd five Years to a Man, who tho'

the most ill-favour'd of his s.e.x had a most amiable Behaviour. I fell in love with Madame _C----_ as soon as ever I saw her, and when I beheld her Husband, I had Presumption enough to believe that my Application to the Lady would not be disagreeable. But I soon perceiv'd that she was not a Woman for my turn; she quickly depriv'd me of all Hopes of Success; and I no sooner saw those Hopes vanish'd, which are the only Support of Lovers, but I dropp'd my Amour. I had another in view which was attended with better Success: M. _M----_ carry'd me to a Country-House of his towards _Padua_, and I don't know where I was ever more agreeably entertain'd in my whole Life. 'Tis at these Country Seats one sees the _Venetians_ in Perfection, who are quite another sort of People here than in the City; for here they put off that grave serious Air which they affect in Town, and are quite sociable, civil, courteous, and live with more splendor. As these Country-Houses are near one another, the Gentlemen to whom they belong visit each other very much, and are almost always together; but at _Venice_ they live with more Restraint.

I am in some doubt whether I should reckon the Music of the _Venetian_ Churches in the number of its Pleasures; but upon the whole, I think I ought, because certainly their Churches are frequented more to please the Ear, than for real Devotion. The Church of _la Pieta_ which belongs to the Nuns who know no other Father but Love, is most frequented. These Nuns are enter'd very young, and are taught Music, and to play on all sorts of Instruments, in which some of 'em are excellent Performers. _Apollonia_ actually pa.s.ses for the finest Singer, and _Anna-Maria_'s for the first Violin in _Italy_. The Concourse of People to this Church on Sundays and Holidays is extraordinary. 'Tis the Rendezvous of all the Coquettes in _Venice_, and such as are fond of Intrigues have here both their Hands and Hearts full. Not many Days after my Arrival in this City I was at this very Church, where was a vast Audience, and the finest of Music. As I was going out, a Woman who hid her Face accosted me, saying, there was a Lady in a Gondola who desir'd to speak with me. Tho' this smelt strong of an Adventure, which I was never very fond of, I however went along with the Woman; and really, not above ten Paces from the Spot I found a Gondola, in which was a Lady whom I knew to be the Daughter of the unfortunate Baron _de H----_ of whose tragical Catastrophe you have heard. I own it mov'd my Compa.s.sion, as well as Sorrow, to see before my Eyes a young Lady of Rank in a strange Country and in such a Situation as made me surmise that she was in a bad Way. But it even touch'd me to the quick, when after having made her Apology to me for having sent for me, she said to me with a Voice interrupted with Sighs, 'For G.o.d's sake tell me what's become of my poor Father; is he still living? He has been the Cause of his own Unhappiness and mine too; he has plung'd me into an Abyss of Woe, but he is still my Father: Nothing can make me forget the Duty I owe him; I should be glad even to lay down my Life to relieve his Misfortunes.' I told her that I had not been at _Berlin_ for a long time; that I had not kept up a Correspondence there with any body, and that consequently I could not tell her any News of her Father. I knew at the same time that he died in Prison at _Spandaw_; but I was loth to be the Messenger of such bad News to a Person who seem'd to be already too much afflicted. 'I did not know you were at _Venice_ (reply'd Madamoiselle _de H----_) or I should have sought an Opportunity to speak with you. I saw you at the Church of _la Pieta_, and the sight of you call'd my Misfortunes fresh to my Memory, as well as the sad Catastrophe of your old Friend my Father. I could not refrain shedding Tears, and the Remembrance of my Disgrace has eclips'd the Pleasure I take in seeing you.' I endeavour'd to a.s.suage her Grief, and to calm her ruffled Soul; and therefore I went with her to her House, and when I saw her a little compos'd I ask'd her questions about her state of Life, and desir'd her to tell me how she had pa.s.s'd her time since she left _Berlin_. She answer'd me in every Point with a great deal of Honesty and Simplicity. 'After the Execution of that Sentence (said she) which degraded my Father from n.o.bility and Honour, and set him on a level with the basest Scoundrels, I had not the Courage to stay at _Berlin_. I went to _H----_ to find out Madame _de B----_ my Aunt from whom I hoped to meet with Protection; but I soon experienc'd that the Unfortunate have no Relations. My Aunt would not give me House-room, and sent a Confident of her's to tell me that she advis'd me to be gone from _H----_ or else to change my Name and not to call me her Cousin, unless I had a Desire to be confin'd. But alas! I would then have taken it as a Favour if my Aunt had shut me up; for I was in extreme Want, and knew not what would become of me. I lodg'd at an Inn where I got my Living by making of Linnen and Washing, when a good likely young Man came and took up his Quarters in the very same House, who immediately struck up an Acquaintance with me. I know not what he saw in me to charm him, for I did nothing but cry all the day long. Mean time he talk'd to me of Love, and gave me so many Demonstrations of his flaming Pa.s.sion that I found he was really smitten with me. To tell you the whole Truth, I was not long insensible of the same Pa.s.sion. He even offer'd to marry me, which, since he would not be deny'd, I consented to. He told me that he was an Officer in the Emperor's Service, and a Native of _Lubeck_, and that he was come hither to take possession of an Estate fallen to him by Inheritance. I took what he said to be true because he was handsomely equipp'd, and had his Pockets well lin'd. In short, I was smitten with him, and thought I should be very happy in taking him for my Husband. Not many Days after our Marriage, he told me that he must needs set out for _Hungary_ where the Regiment was quarter'd, whereof he said he was a Lieutenant, and that consequently I must make ready to go with him.--We set out from _H----_ and arriv'd happily at _Vienna_. It was in that very City that my Husband, who till then behav'd well towards me, and whose Conduct had been very regular, chang'd all on a sudden to the reverse. He spent the whole Day in Gaming-Houses, and the Night in Debauchery. Sometimes he never once came home for four or five Days together, and when he did, 'twas only to insult me, and to upbraid me with the misfortune of my Father, which I discover'd to him before Marriage, for fear he should reproach me one time or other with having deceiv'd him. He told me that I was a Disgrace to him, that his Colonel had broke him for marrying me, and that I was the Author of his Ruin. I try'd to pacify him, and spar'd no Pains nor Complaisance for it, but all to no purpose. I heard that my Husband was desperately in love with a common Prost.i.tute, that he had ruin'd himself for her sake; and in a little time he was oblig'd to sell the very Clothes off his back. He had contracted Debts, and expecting every day to be arrested by his Creditors, he left _Vienna_ privately, abandoning me to the most dreadful Despair.

'Twas eight Months before I heard a Word of him. At last I came to know that he was here at _Venice_, and I resolv'd to find him out. Madame the Countess of _W----_ who had generously a.s.sisted me, fitted me out for the Journey, but when I came hither I did not find my Husband, who I heard was at _Padua_. I was making my self ready to follow him thither, when I heard the News that he was kill'd by a Student with whom he had a Quarrel at Gaming. His Death fill'd up the Measure of my Sorrow. I found my self quite a Stranger here without Friends or Subsistence. I endeavour'd, but in vain, to get my Living by my Labour, as I had done at _H----_ but I found so little to do that 'twas impossible for me to hold out long; and I must undoubtedly have sunk under my Misery if it had not been for the n.o.ble _D----_ who out of Pity to my Condition reliev'd me six Years ago by granting me a Pension: But how happy should I be if I could live without it, and retire for ever to some religious Foundation!' Here the unfortunate _H----_ concluded her Narrative. I sifted her Sentiments about Religion: I knew she had been educated in the _Lutheran_, but she express'd her Inclination to embrace the Catholic Religion, and also to turn Nun. I promis'd to serve her all that lay in my power, and that same Evening I spoke to Madame _M----_ who promis'd me to enter her into Orders as soon as she was turn'd Catholic. A Jesuit who has had the tutoring of her for near a Month gives us Hopes that she will instantly be qualify'd to take the Veil. She seems to me to be very eager for it. A few days ago I acquainted her with her Father's Death, with which she seem'd very much affected, but at the same time she express'd her Submission to the Decrees of Providence, and told me her Misfortunes with so much Resignation, that I have Reason to think she will be very happy in the Retirement which she is about to embrace. If this be the Case, I shall think my self very fortunate in having contributed by my Advice to her Tranquillity. Heaven grant her Prayers may prevail that I my self may put those Lessons in practice which I have taught her, as to the Necessity of Conversion.

Pardon me, Sir, this long Digression. As you knew the unfortunate _H----_ in his Prosperity, and as you are also inform'd of his Disgrace, I thought you would not be sorry to hear of the Fate of his Daughter. I now resume my Remarks on _Venice_.

Two Days ago I went to see the _Scuola St. Rocco_, which are Rooms where the Fraternities of that Saint meet, in which are Pictures done by the greatest Masters, particularly one in the great Room below, which is the Picture of the _Annunciation_ done by _Tintoret_, a Piece highly esteem'd.

This Picture is, without Contradiction, one of the finest and most affecting Paintings at _Venice_, because of the lively Expressions of Surprise, Admiration, and Joy which appear in the _Virgin's_ Face. She is sitting in her Chamber, which the skilful Painter has represented as a plain mean Room in some Disorder with old and worn out Furniture. Upon the grand Stair-case there's another Picture representing the _Annunciation_ in like manner, which is done by _t.i.tian_, and is not one of the worst of his Performances. The upper Rooms are adorn'd with several Pictures done by _Tintoret_, in which he has described our Lord's Pa.s.sion. Our Saviour appearing before _Pilate_ is an admirable Piece; 'tis really moving to see the Modesty and Serenity of his Countenance. A second Picture represents our Lord carrying his Cross. In a third, we see him fasten'd on it, and expiring for the Salvation of Mankind. These are invaluable Pieces, and are reckon'd the compleatest that ever _Tintoret_ painted.

I have also been to see the chief Palaces, which lie for the most part on the great Ca.n.a.l, and that call'd _Reggio_. They are very magnificent, but they are generally so like one another that he who has seen one may say he has seen them all. They have little Court-Yards, less Gardens, and no Stables. Nothing goes to form a Palace at _Venice_ but the main Body of the Building, a great Salon in the middle, and Apartments on the Right and Left; and setting aside the Marble, there are Palaces as magnificent elsewhere which have only the name of a House.

The Square of St. _Mark_ is the ordinary Rendezvous of all the Gentry at _Venice_. There are n.o.bles who keep their constant Circuits here as it were, and who never stir from the Place but to Bed, for they pa.s.s their whole Time in Gaming at the Coffee-Houses, or in the Peruke-Makers Shops.

The number of their n.o.bles is not limited; and any body for paying down 100000 Ducats may purchase n.o.bility. These Gentlemen compliment each other with the t.i.tle of _Excellency_, and 'tis what they all challenge from Foreigners. Mean time, some of those _Excellencies_ go to the Shambles, and to the Fish-Market, and carry home their Meat or their Fish under their Robes, and some are so very poor that they go a begging. This t.i.tle is so very common here that I had much ado to hinder a Lackey whom I hired from giving it to me. Tho' I told him that I was by no means _Excellent_, he made me answer that he knew full well what Obligations were due to my Excellency, and that he would not be thought to be wanting in Respect to my Excellency. A _Frenchman_ lately come from _Constantinople_ to whom I made my Complaints, how much this t.i.tle was prophan'd, a.s.sur'd me that the _Venetians_ were still more lavish of it out of _Venice_, so that he heard the very Grooms belonging to the Baillo of the Republic at _Constantinople_, compliment one another with the t.i.tle of _Excellency_.

Among the _Venetian_ Excellencies there are also _Pet.i.ts-Maitres_ who are known by their Doublets lin'd with Scarlet, their fine white Perukes, by their fantastical Step, and that Air of lolling which they give themselves in their Gondola's, which are much smaller and nimbler than the common sort. These _Pet.i.ts-Maitres_ are great Beaus, and have commonly more than one Mistress at a time, and indeed there are few n.o.bles but have one at least. These Creatures, excepting the little Liberty they enjoy, are as happy as Sultana's. Their Lovers treat them like Princesses, and the _Venetians_ in general pay great respect to the whole s.e.x. I have seen _Faustina_ the famous Singer, and _Stringuetta_ the noted Courtezan come mask'd upon the Square of St. _Mark_, leaning on the Shoulders of n.o.blemen, and every Man paying them as much Obeisance as if they had been Ladies of great Importance. The same day that they appear'd on the Square there happen'd to be a Skirmish between two Women mask'd that were Rivals, who, as soon as they knew one another, fell out, went to Cuffs, tore off each other's Masks, and at last Knives were drawn, with which they cut one another so deeply that one of 'em was left dead on the Spot.

I now think it high time to finish my Letter which is already very long, and perhaps too full of Trifles. I have told you every Thing that came uppermost in my Mind, so that you have a perfect Farrago, which however is a Proof of the Pleasure I take in corresponding with you.

[Ill.u.s.tration]

LETTER XXVII.

_SIR_, _Ronciglione, May 30, 1730._

As it appears by all the Letters from _Rome_ that they are on the point of chusing a new Pope, I set out sooner from _Venice_ than I should otherways have done, and came post to this City without stopping much by the Way. I pa.s.s'd thro' PADUA, where I had the Honour to pay my Respects to the Prince _Emanuel_ of _Portugal_, who is come to reside there for some time, and I was afterwards at the Comedy, which was indeed, a most wretched Performance, but the a.s.sembly was gay and numerous: Among the rest there were a great number of Students and young Fellows, particularly one that made a very finical Appearance, who had ten or twelve Patches on his Face, a red Coat embroider'd with black Gawse, a Hat, a Shoulder-Knot, Stockings, _&c._ the whole trimm'd with Gawse. I took him at first for a Mountebank, but I plainly saw that the Whimsicalness of his Dress was the Humour of the Country. What gave me some Amus.e.m.e.nt was, to see a Hare which Harlequin had taught to play Tricks, to tumble Top over Tail, to leap over a Stick, and to beat a Drum with his two Fore-feet.

From _Padua_ I went to FERRARA a City in the Ecclesiastical State, where the Pope keeps a Legat who is always a Cardinal. It appear'd to me to be a large City with s.p.a.cious Streets, and some fine Palaces, but it did not seem to be very populous, which is ascrib'd to the bad Air in this Country, otherwise one of the finest in all _Italy_.

The Road from _Ferrara_ to BOLOGNA is extremely level, and as good and agreeable in Summer as 'tis unpa.s.sable in Winter. _Bologna_ is the second City in the Ecclesiastical State, and is a large fine Town. 'Tis in a most charming Situation, all the Country round it being properly a Garden, and one of the most fruitful and fairest Plats in Nature. 'Tis said this City contains near 80000 Inhabitants. The common People are civil and well bred, and none more polite to Foreigners than the n.o.blemen. There are stately Palaces here, of which I will only mention that of the Marquis _Rinucci_, because to me it seem'd to be one of the most considerable in the City. 'Tis very magnificent, and of a vast extent. The Ground-Floor contains three large Apartments, the first Story five, and the second as many. The Stair-case of this Palace is very much esteem'd for its Contrivance. In one of the Halls are two large Pictures: The first is the Consecration of the Emperor _Charles_ V. perform'd by the Pope at _Bologna_: The second represents _Frederic_ IV. King of _Denmark_ giving Audience to the Senate of _Bologna_: and their complimenting him on his Arrival. In another of those Halls are two other curious large Pictures; the one of Cardinal _Rinucci_, having Audience of the King of _Poland_ when he was sent to him as Nuncio; and the second shews the same Cardinal receiving the Cap from _Lewis_ XIV. King of _France_, at whose Court he was Nuncio when he was promoted to the Purple. The Apartments adjoining to these Halls are also adorn'd with excellent Paintings and very richly furnish'd.

The Churches of _Bologna_ are not less magnificent than the finest Churches in _Italy_. I thought that of St. _Paul_ the most worthy of Remark, which is serv'd by _Bernardine_ Fryars. The Roof is adorn'd with Paintings representing the History of St. _Paul_. These Pictures which are highly esteem'd are the Performances of _Antonio Caccioli_ and _Rolli_ two Natives of _Bologna_, and they have both out-done themselves. The Painting of the Dome where St. _Paul_ is represented on his Knees ready to have his Head struck off is admirably fine. The high Altar is of Marble of various Colours, finish'd with a great deal of Art. The Seats of the Monks are of Wallnut-Tree, and over them are several Pictures of the Life of St. _Paul_ drawn by an able Hand, who was _Carache_'s Pupil. The Churches of St.

_Catherine_ of _Bologna_, and St. _Michael_ in _Bosco_ are well worth the Traveller's Observation, on account of the choice Pictures with which they are adorn'd. St. _Michael_'s in _Bosco_ stands upon an Eminence three Miles from _Bologna_, to which there's an Entrance thro' a cover'd Gallery made like a Piazza. 'Twas a Work erected by the Citizens of _Bologna_, out of their Devotion to a miraculous Image of the _Holy Virgin_ which is reverenc'd in this Church.

The Legate's Palace is very ancient, but grand and magnificent. 'Tis as strictly guarded during the Vacancy of the Holy See as if the Enemy were at the Gates of the City. All the Avenues to it are hung with Chains: The _Swiss_ Guards are arm'd with Cuira.s.ses: The Guard which consists of fifty Soldiers is barricaded with Pallisades and Chevaux de Frise, and the Palace-Gate is defended by eight Pieces of Cannon.

What remains for me to tell you of _Bologna_ is, that 'tis one of the Cities in _Italy_ where a Foreigner finds most Amus.e.m.e.nt. The n.o.bility not only strive to give him Pleasure, but he has fine Paintings to feast his Eye, and here are often excellent Concerts of Music, Operas, and Comedies, charming Walks, and genteel Country-Houses; which I take to be all that can be desir'd in Life.

From _Bologna_ I travell'd in two days to _Florence_, after having been dragg'd in my Chaise thro' the _Apennines_, a prodigious Range of Mountains; which is a thing I shall never do again while I live; for I really suffer'd very much in this Road, and if ever you should have a fancy to come this way, I would advise you to carry Provisions or a Cook with you, for there is not one considerable Place in all the Road.

_Fiorenzola_, which is almost half way, is a sorry little Town. From thence to _Scarperia_ the Road is extremely rugged. One descends a high Mountain pav'd like a Stair-case, which to attempt in a Chaise, you are sure of being, if I may so call it, broke upon the Wheel, and therefore I chose to walk down. At _Scarperia_ the Road becomes more pa.s.sable, and it mends as you come near _Florence_. In our Way we pa.s.s'd thro' a Town call'd _Ponte_ that stands at the Foot of a Hill, where the Great Duke has a Castle which appear'd to me to be very well fortify'd.

One perceives FLORENCE a great way off, and indeed it makes a fine point of View to see so great a City in a beautiful Valley between Hills which rise insensibly, and end at length in high Mountains, inhabited in such a manner that they may be reckon'd the Suburbs of _Florence_. The River _Arno_ pa.s.ses thro' both the City and the Valley. Among all the Cities of _Italy_, _Florence_ may justly be surnamed the _Fair_, since it has all that can be desir'd in a great and wealthy Town, such as sacred and profane Edifices, Bridges, Monuments, and Fountains; yet 'tis not so large nor populous as _Bologna_. As I enter'd _Florence_ I perceived over the Gate a Table of white Marble with a _Latin_ Inscription on it, as follows: