I had heard so much of the canals and gondolas of Venice, that I was rather surprised to find that I could go by land to any part of the city, except the Giudecca. It is indeed sometimes round about, and the alleys, for there are no streets, are narrow, crooked, and intricate. Yet in this cold weather I generally prefer encountering all their difficulties, to being half frozen in a gondola. These gondolas, at least the smaller ones, consist of a wherry with a little black box, into which you must enter backwards, because it would be exceedingly difficult to turn round. They are rowed by one man, who places his oar, not behind, but at the side; and it is surprising with what dexterity he will direct his boat, by means so apparently insufficient. The larger boats have of course two rowers, but in all cases they stand to row, looking forward, and throwing the whole weight of their body on the oar. The alleys sometimes open into little yards, (they cannot be denominated squares,) the Venetian name of which is Campi; but enough of wandering about the streets; I will now return to the buildings.

I have already given some description of St. Mark; there are other churches of the middle ages at Venice, but I think none of them of very high interest. One of the finest is the Santa Maria Gloriosa de’ Frari, the first stone of which was laid in 1250, but it was more than a century on hand. The design is said to be of NiccolÒ Pisano, a name which seems to be applied with great readiness to edifices of this period. The external appearance is very plain, with three circular windows in front, opening into the church, and a little one into the roof. The cornices are ornamented with simple pointed arches, and with intersecting semicircular ones. The back of the choir, in some points of view, forms a picturesque composition. Internally, it has a nave, with side aisles and a transept. The disposition resembles that of Sta. Anastasia at Verona, and the edifice belongs to the same class of architecture; but the parts are smaller, and there are more of them. The perspective is sadly cut up by iron ties, which however appear to be very necessary. The clerestory windows have been renewed; the piers are mostly round, they are seven in number on each side of the nave, and as many in the choir. The stalls of the choir dated 1468, present some beautifully carved foliage, of excellent design, and in entire relief.

Somewhere near the second altar on the right hand, were deposited the remains of Titian, who you know, died of the plague, and in consequence of the confusion of the time, the precise spot is not known. Some years ago, a monk of the Conventualists put up a Latin rhiming inscription. It is said that Canova has been employed to make a monument more worthy of the artist, but it has never been erected.

Another large church of pointed architecture is that of the Santi Giovanni e Paolo. This was begun in 1246, but not finished till 1390. It is of the same sort of architecture, and like the Frari, spoilt by the iron ties. There are five piers on each side of the nave, some cylindrical, and some formed of three inosculating cylinders; but they are all too small. There are no detached pillars in the choir. It is not uncommon in this part of Italy to have little deep chapels open into the transept on one side only, and in the same direction with the choir. This is done apparently to preserve the smaller, as well as the larger altar towards the east; for though not so superstitious as you are in England on this head, yet they used in the darker ages to pay some attention to it. The clerestory windows in this church are preserved; those of the side aisles have been altered. Over the pointed arches of the side aisles are little openings, which suggest the notion of a triforium, but there is not, I believe, any passage in that part.

The church of S. Stefano was founded in 1325, and offers some rich detail of external ornament. The inside is covered with a wooden roof, over arches supported on columns, which are not very unlike Corinthian. The effect of the lower part is by no means displeasing, but the upper is not so well managed.

Santa Maria del Carmine was dedicated in 1348; twenty-four columns support the arches which open from the nave, and form a very pleasing perspective. Above the arches is a rich Corinthian entablature, but the upper part appears to have been modernized, and one large arch of the groined vaulting occupies the space of two of the arches of the nave. This has a bad effect.

The latest Gothic church in Venice is that of S. Zaccaria, which was founded in 1457, but not completed till 1547; the western front seems to belong to the latter date, or perhaps has been added still later, but the rest of the building is in a sort of pointed style. The cornices are ornamented with simple, pointed arches, and there are many pointed arches to the windows, and clustered columns about the choir; but we have also little domes, and Corinthian columns (bad enough) supported on high pedestals. These passages of one style into another are often curious, but seldom beautiful. The side aisles are very lofty, and the clerestory windows very minute, so that this mode of arrangement seems to have been preserved to the last period of pointed architecture.

I will conclude my remarks on the Gothic edifices of Venice with the Ducal Palace, which is said to have been founded in the ninth century; but nothing of the architecture at present existing can claim a higher date than the middle of the fourteenth, when it was erected by the doge, Marino Faliero. The architect is said to have been one Filippo Calendario, who was executed for taking part in the conspiracy of his patron.

I have already mentioned to you the external appearance, with which indeed, from the number of prints, you must be pretty familiar. Between this mass of building and the church of St. Mark is a gateway, by which one enters the court. This was built under the doge, Francesco Foscari, who was elected in 1423, and died in 1457; and from a comparison of other circumstances, it appears certain that it was begun about 1448, under the direction of a certain Bartholomeus de Cisternis. The name of Bartolommeo Buono, as architect, appears on the architrave; but as this artist did not die till 1529, it is hardly possible that he should have superintended a building in 1448. Perhaps this Bartholomeus de Cisternis was also named Buono; or perhaps the inscription was only in consequence of some posterior alteration; you may take which opinion you please; I incline to the first. The arches here, and indeed all the parts, are very much broken and confused; the architect appearing to have great horror of a continued line, whether straight or curved. The foliage above the arch is very large; and this, and the figures rising among it, are so exactly in the style of the upper finish of the church of St. Mark, that there can be no doubt of their being nearly of the same period. The court is surrounded on three sides by two stories of arcades, supporting the upper apartments of the building; the lower arches are semicircular, with a small round hole above each; the upper are pointed. The upper part of two sides is somewhat in the style of the front, but the windows are not regularly disposed; it is principally of brick. One side is as richly ornamented as possible. The remaining side towards the church is very irregular, but also much ornamented, and without any plain surface, except in some receding parts, which are covered with marble slabs. The whole is in bad taste, between Gothic, and the revival of Roman architecture; but the latter style seems to have been much less conspicuous at first, as considerable alterations are sufficiently evident. A very fine flight of marble steps leads to the first story, but you have another staircase to ascend before you enter the principal apartments. The first of these was ornamented by Palladio, after a fire which happened in 1574; particularly the four doorways are of his design, yet they are not very good, and are besides too solid and consequential for inside doorways. Each of them has a portico of two columns, without pediments, and there are three statues over each. The marble of the columns is very beautiful. The colour is a dark green, with yellow veins and red markings. They are not all precisely alike, yet perhaps are from the same bed; they are called Greek. The cornices and swelled friezes are also of dark veined marble, and this renders the mouldings confused.

I shall not conduct you step by step through all these numerous apartments, splendid with gilding, and with all the glories of the Venetian school of painting, which spreads over the walls, and covers the ceilings, as if it had only cost a few shillings the square yard. There is also a very fine collection of ancient sculpture. No expense has been spared; Sansovino, Palladio, and Scamozzi, have united their talents to those of Paul Veronese, Tintoret, Palma, and the Bassans, and many other fine painters, to make them beautiful. Yet from the want of repose and simplicity, the result is not satisfactory; the very exuberance of art injures its effect.

S. Jacopo in Rivo Alto, was first built in 1194. It was entirely rebuilt in 1531, precisely in the old form, as we are informed by an inscription in the portico; we may doubt the perfect accuracy of the imitation, but the six marble columns of the nave, with their capitals copied from the Corinthian, are probably parts of the ancient building. The middle space is about twice the width of the others, forming a transept, and a cupola rises at the intersection. I suspect that this was an innovation, but on the whole it is a pretty little thing.

The school of S. Rocco (I shall say nothing of the church) has been attributed to Sansovino, but it is now usually given to Bartolommeo Buono, Sante Lombardo, and Antonio Scarpagnino. The first began it in 1516 and continued it till 1524, when he was dismissed, because he wished to make some alteration in the doorways on the staircase, and in the portico towards the canal. It was then given to Sante Lombardo, who was only twenty years old, but with the condition that his father, Giulio Lombardo, should assist him. These artists also wished to introduce some novelties of their own, and therefore, in 1527, the direction was given to Antonio Scarpagnino. Sansovino was called in, we know not why, in 1532, but in 1536, we find Scarpagnino offering a new design for the principal front; and more indulgent to him than to his predecessors, the confraternity adopted it. I dare say there was plenty of intriguing among all these changes, but one hardly knows for what, unless there was a large salary and little to do, for the building is not a large one, and it is not easy to imagine what they could be doing for the twenty years which elapsed from the foundation, before they began the front; which expression is, however, I apprehend, not to be understood of the solid masonry, but of a mere facing. This front is of two orders, each of six entire columns, round which the entablature breaks. The windows are arched, and in pairs; each pair is placed in an arched recess in the lower story, and crowned with a pediment in the upper. It is more singular than beautiful. Buono’s style is more simple, and that of the Lombardi would probably be better than the one adopted, for they had some taste and feeling in their way, though it too often happens that their houses are monuments, and their monuments gingerbread.

Bartolommeo Buono was the architect of the Procuratie Vecchie, forming the north side of the Place of St. Mark. The design is not without taste, and is certainly completely different from that of the gateway of the Ducal Palace. There are two series of small arches over the larger arches below, each of which supports two of the range above it. So far the appearance is light and not inelegant, but the piers below are too weak. There is hardly as much breadth between the lower order and that above it, as the change of design requires; the circular windows in the widened frieze are bad, and the finishings against the roof execrable.

The opposite side of the Place of St. Mark is occupied by the Procuratie Nuove, built partly by Sansovino, and partly by Scamozzi. Sansovino first built the Zecca in the Piazzetta; the lower order of which is Doric, with an entablature of considerably more than one fourth of the height of the column; a proportion displeasingly large, especially in this ornamental style; the intercolumniations have three triglyphs, and include an arch rising on imposts. The triglyphs are tall and narrow, with only two femora. The second order is Ionic, with an entablature still more overcharged; the frieze is immense, with round windows, which are very much masked by the profusion of sculpture. It seems to me that in this, the architect wished to preserve some degree of correspondence with the Procuratie Vecchie, with which he has made the height coincide. The three first arches of the Procuratie Nuove, are the same as those of the Zecca; the ten following were executed under the direction of Scamozzi. He followed the Doric order of the Zecca, and the Ionic, to the top of the columns, but he corrected the extravagance of its cornice, and added a third order with Corinthian columns, which is perhaps rather meagre, but altogether the composition is pleasing. The same design was followed in the remainder of the building, but not, as it appears, under the direction of any architect, and the workmanship is very indifferent. One great defect of the arrangement, arises from its height being so much greater than that of the opposite side; a defect become more sensible by the destruction of the church of San Geminiani. This church was also the design of Sansovino, and the Venetian dilettanti regret its destruction. Yet to judge from indifferent engravings, it seems to have been a poor thing in itself, and must certainly have been injurious to the effect of the Place, by interfering with that unity of object which at present is its great charm.

That I may finish all I have to say of the Place of St. Mark, I will tell you that the foundations of the great Campanile date as far back as 888, but the present walls were not begun till the year 1148. What the foundations were doing for two hundred and sixty years I cannot tell. The arches in the upper part, with the attic above them, and the spire, are said to have been commenced in 1150, but not completed till 1517, under the direction of Bartolommeo Buono. At the foot of this towering mass is a loggia, now a lottery office, erected by Sansovino. The style would not do well for a larger building, and is rather what might be called monumental, than palatial, but it is good in its way, and for its object.

Sansovino was a sculptor as well as an architect, and very much employed at Venice in both arts; he died in 1570, at the advanced age of ninety. Buono abandoned Gothic details, but preserved much of the ancient disposition: Sansovino and Sanmicheli were the first who fairly introduced modern Italian architecture into this part of Italy, and both of them brought it from Florence.

I shall not pretend to give you observations on all Sansovino’s works, but I will mention two of his churches. That of San Martino is a square room with three recesses on each side, one of which, rather deeper than the others, forms the choir. The details are rather poor, but the distribution does not seem ill-chosen. The outside of S. Giorgio de’ Greci is altogether bad. The inside is an oblong room, not I think, very well proportioned or well decorated. Yet Moschini appeals to the judgment of his predecessors in confirmation of his own, that it is the finest of Sansovino’s works, full of “majesty and magnificence, and as, on the score of elegance, the artist has here touched perfection, so, in point of solidity, he seems to have erected a richly adorned castle.” It was thirty years in building, and the expense was defrayed entirely by subscription among the Greek inhabitants of Venice, and those who frequented that city. On the division which separates the sanctuary from the body of the church, are some paintings coated with silver, and having crowns, and other ornaments of gold attached to them, and leaving hardly any thing visible but the heads. I was assured that the painting was complete beneath this covering, and that the parts which were figured in low relief on the silver plate, corresponded exactly with the drawings behind it.

Besides these, and many other things, Sansovino gave the plan of the church of San Francesco della Vigna. A representation of the faÇade is given in a medal struck in 1534, but the patriarch of Aquileia, at whose expense it was to be built, not thinking it sufficiently magnificent, employed Palladio, in 1562, to make the design, which was afterwards executed. It appears that Sansovino’s plan, (already begun) was, in 1533, submitted to Francesco Georgi, a brother of the convent, who proposed to rectify the proportions according to what he calls Platonic principles, “I would,” said he, “that the width should be of nine paces, nine being the square of three, a prime and a divine number; and that it should have a triple proportion to the length, which should be of twenty-seven paces, forming a diapason and a diapente;” and then he goes on to say, that this relation and harmony was appointed by God himself, who thus fashioned the world, and directed Moses to observe it in the tabernacle, which was to be made according to the model shown to him on the mountain; which model, according to the opinion of the wise, was the world itself. The author proceeds through all the parts of the church in the same style. I do not wonder that men should have such dreams, nor indeed, that they should write them; but that they should think such dreaming to be reason, that they should publish them as such, and that the world should ever have received them as such, does seem to be a little marvellous.

With all these harmonious proportions, however, or without them, for I do not know if they were adopted, the inside is not beautiful; the outside does not at all correspond with it, and nobody need doubt that the building was the work of two architects. Palladio’s churches have all one general disposition in front, a pediment in the centre supported on half columns, and a sloping roof on each side, resting on a smaller order, whose horizontal cornice is continued, more or less perfectly, in the intervals between the larger columns. The effect is always in some degree as if a great pediment over the smaller order had been cut away for the purpose of introducing the larger; and on this account, I doubt if it would not be better, entirely to omit all trace of the smaller order in the intervals of the larger. However, though not absolutely perfect, these buildings are very graceful; and hitherto, no better mode seems to have been adopted, for accommodating the Roman architecture to the usual disposition of a Christian church. In the present example, the lower cornice is only continued in two or three flat members in the intercolumns, and there is a small projection in the wings, on which the cornice returns, so that these flat mouldings alone, are interrupted by the columns. Both orders are on a high continued pedestal, which breaks round the principal columns, and is cut through to admit the door. Over the door is a large semicircular window.

The church of the Redentore is altogether a design of Palladio, begun by him in 1578, two years before his death. Here the pedestal is not so high as in the preceding example; and instead of being cut through, there is a flight of steps up to the entrance. This does not leave room for a large window over the door. So far the design is superior to that of the before-mentioned edifice, and the composition is not the worse for taking a squarer form; but then, in order to obtain height, the architect has introduced a sort of attic above the pediment of both orders, and a roof rising above the attic; in which it is at least as much inferior. Internally, it has a fine, wide, single nave; and this simple disposition might well be imitated in our Protestant churches. The arrangement and colour of the lower part are beautiful, and if the vault were a semi, instead of a segment, and panelled instead of whitewashed, it might be cited as a perfect model of this mode of architecture. The termination of the choir wants consequence, and the plain whitewashed wall, behind the semicircular screen of columns, is absolutely disagreeable. The supports of the dome are good, and have no appearance of insufficiency.

The church of St. George was also designed by Palladio, and begun in 1556, though the front was not erected till 1610. This front, or at least, its central and principal division, is narrower, in proportion to its height, than in any other of Palladio’s churches. The larger order, as usual, is Composite, and the little order Corinthian. The general proportions are pleasing, yet the columns appear upon stilts, as each stands on its own lofty pedestal, between which the doorway is introduced, while the smaller order reaching to the ground, has its pilasters almost as long as the principal columns. There is no pediment over the door, the existence of which is rather a defect at the Redentore, but there is a great space not well occupied, above the secondary cornice. Internally, the church has a nave and two side aisles; but the piers are very solid, and admit no oblique view between them on entering the great door. The nave itself is much inferior to that of the Redentore. It is too short, and the pedestals are too high. The transept cuts the lines disagreeably; and the want of some projection, or alteration of plan, at the intersection, produces an effect of feebleness. The altars are all similar, simple, and good.

S. Niccola de’ Tolentini is perhaps one of the best works of Scamozzi. The front is a handsome portico of six Corinthian columns, but the leaves of the capitals are uncut; perhaps they have never been finished: and an opening in the middle of the pediment is disagreeable. The inside consists of a nave, with three chapels on each side; a transept with a dome at the intersection; and a choir somewhat narrower than the nave; which is perhaps, better than keeping it the full width: the proportions are good, but there is too much ornament.

The rest of Venetian architecture will be soon despatched. S. Pietro in Castello was built by Francesco Smeraldi. I mention the name of the architect, not that of the person who paid for the building; but it is astonishing to an Englishman to find how large a portion of these fine churches were built at the expense of individuals. It is an imitation of Palladio, with the pedestal cut through to admit the door, and the pediment surmounted by a ponderous attic: how different is the same composition when managed by different people! Internally, the nave is too short, and its lines are sadly interrupted by the large transept; it would have been handsome had this been omitted.

S. Simeon Piccolo is a rotunda, with a portico attached to one side, and an opposite recess for the altar. The outside is not well proportioned, and the tall, tile-covered dome is very ugly. Internally, the distribution of the smaller parts is not well managed, but it shows something of the beautiful effect of so simple a plan.

Santa Maria del Rosario, called the Gesuati, boasts one of the handsomest fronts in Venice. The inside is not so good; the architect was Giorgio Massari. S. Barnaba is inferior on the outside, but better within. They are both imitations of Palladio. Santa Maria della Salute is a great octagonal church, or oratorio, erected on the cessation of the plague, in 1630, under the direction of Baldissera Longhena. The outside is overloaded in all parts with ornament, and this defect is not redeemed by any peculiar delicacy of sentiment in the distribution. Internally, the dome is supported on eight pillars, the aisle continues all round it, and there are eight recesses, seven of which are chapels, and the eighth forms the entrance. The disposition produces a degree of intricacy without confusion; that is, without rendering it at all difficult to understand the design, which is very favourable to the expression of richness and splendour, and presents some very picturesque, and even beautiful combinations; but the windows, disposed two on each side over the arches of the central octagon, have a bad effect, and it is at present much injured by the abominable whitewash, with which the Venetians daub almost all their churches. Luca Giordano has here exhibited some curious specimens of the versatility of his powers in imitating the styles of other artists.

The church of the Santissimo Salvadore was built at the expense of a merchant of the name of Jacopo Galli, who left by will sixty thousand ducats for this purpose. The architect is uncertain; the front is of two orders, or rather of one order surmounted by an attic of almost equal height, forming a square composition, with an unmeaning pediment over the centre. The columns are very wide apart, as there are only four in the range in the whole front; yet on the whole, the appearance is not bad, though one cannot call it good. The inside has a nave and side recesses, or as Moschini has it, a nave with three transepts, the farthest of which is longer than the others; each intersection is covered with a little dome, and each dome is crowned with a small lantern. The piers which separate these transepts are perforated in both directions with a small arch. The lights are kept high, and the general effect is very good. Where there is a range of lower arches opening into the nave, surmounted by a continued cornice, the simple vault forms by far the finest finish, out in a case like this, where the side arches are as high as the nave, the succession of domes is possibly superior, at least the upper and lower parts seem perfectly suited to each other.

The New Prison was built by Antonio da Ponte in 1589; it is a very handsome building, with rustic arches below, and above these a range of Doric columns on pedestals, and a large cornice with consoles in the frieze. These would be objectionable if the columns were on the ground, or perhaps if the height were divided by any strongly projecting cornice over the rustic arcades, but as it is, forming the only entablature to the whole height, it has a noble effect. The greatest fault of the building is, that it does not look at all like a prison.

In front of the arsenal are four marble lions. Under the two first are inscriptions, telling us they were brought as trophies of victory from the PirÆus at Athens; under the third is merely ex Atticis, and the fourth has no inscription. The first is erect; the marble has reddish stains, and but few traces of mica. The second is I think the finest, though it is said, I know not why, to be modern; it is recumbent. The marble has no red stains, but the effect of the mica is very evident. They are both admirable works, and undoubtedly of Pentelic marble. The third appeared to me to represent a panther rather than a lion, the figure is lanky and not beautiful. The fourth is a little thing of not much value, I believe of marmo greco, that is, a large grained, saline marble, of a white not very pure, and marked more or less with grayish stripes.

The number of pictures here is immense, mostly of course of the Venetian school, but of these there are magnificent specimens. The names of Gian Bellino, the two Palmas, and three Bassans, are almost as well known as those of Titian, Paul Veronese, and Tintoret; but there are also very fine paintings by Andrea Vicentino, Sebastian Ricci, Bonifacio, Aliense, Mario Vecelli, &c.; and Luca Giordano has also left here a great number of his works. But the majority of these fine paintings are very badly lighted. In the churches there is usually a row of wax candles before them; and if on some feast day, when these are lighted, one of them should fall back, and burn a hole in the canvass, nobody seems to care much about it. Many of them are half hid by a statue of white marble, whose colour sadly deadens the tints of the painting; or what is worse, by the painted wax face, white veil, silver crown, and gaudy satin drapery of some wretched Madonna. Sometimes a crown and girdle of gold or silver are stuck on the painting itself, and when this represents, as is often the case, a Madonna in the clouds, they give her a silver moon to stand upon. All the pictures in the churches are wretchedly dirty, and it is provoking to see so little care taken of the finest of them. No English churchwarden can be fonder of whitewash, than those who have the care of the churches in Venice; and if they do not cover their Titians with it, they do almost as bad, in whitewashing all round them. Those returned from Paris are in a better condition. The French are accused of having restored, as well as cleaned; the accusation may be just in some degree, but not to the amount one is led to expect by the complaints made against them. And after all, when the question is between a very beautiful thing, but invisible, and another somewhat less beautiful, which may be seen, I confess that I prefer the latter. These paintings are now at the convent of the CaritÀ, which is converted into an academy of the fine arts, but the building contains no large rooms in which they may be exhibited, and they are laid together in great confusion: a few indeed have been picked out and put in front, where they are tolerably well seen. The San Pietro Martyre was placed upon an easel, in an excellent light, and without any thing to disturb the view of it, so that I enjoyed it in all its perfection. Many of the larger paintings have not been unpacked, and as they cannot be exhibited till a room is erected for their reception, and there is now no Napoleon to order such an erection, and no rich merchant to supply the funds; it is not improbable that they may remain rolled up for these twenty years. I have already said that there is a fine collection of ancient marbles in the ducal palace. There are also one or two excellent private collections of the same sort, and some of the palaces are rich in pictures. One in particular, the Manfrin, has a glorious collection. Besides pictures, the Italians adorn their churches with painted images, to which I have occasionally alluded, and which are dressed out as finely as gold and satin can make them, and with as much taste as you would expect, when a monk undertakes to perform a lady’s toilet. An image of the Madonna in the Santi Apostoli, exhibited a gilt crown, a shawl of white silk was loosely thrown over the head and shoulders, and her gown was of yellow satin with blue stripes, and decorated with roses and other flowers intended to imitate Nature. The child had a gilt glory, and an apron like his mother’s gown. I have not selected this as a remarkable one, but merely in hopes to give you a more distinct idea of these figures by describing an individual.

The Venetians used to paint the outsides of their houses, and Paul Veronese and Tintoret were sometimes employed in this manner; but these paintings have all disappeared, except that here and there some scarcely distinguishable shades attest that such things were. The ceilings of the apartments are always decorated, and they are generally lighter than the walls. I do not mean to include such walls as are enriched with pictures, but those only with decorative painting. The pattern is usually of a darker colour than the ground, and often exhibits a great deal of taste. We sometimes see the joists exposed, either moulded or painted, and the little bits of ceiling between them painted; but never our plain one-coloured surface of plaster.