June 18th, 1830
To the Church of St. Mark, and examined it. It is not large, but very curious, so loaded with ornament within and without, and so unlike any other church. The pavement, instead of being flat, is made to undulate like the waves of the sea. All the sides are marble, all the top mosaic, all the pavement coloured marble in exquisite patterns. There is not a single tomb in it, but it wants no ornament that the wealth and skill of ages could supply. Climbed up the tower to see Venice and the islands; a man is posted here day and night to strike the hours and quarters on a great bell, to ring the alarm in case of fire in any part of the city. It is a very curious panorama, and the only spot from which this strange place can be completely seen. In the Grimani Palace there are some Titians (not very good) of Grimani Doges, and others of the family; the famous statue of Agrippa, which Cardinal Grimani brought from Home, and a ceiling by Salviati of Neptune and Minerva contending to give a name to Athens. In the Pisani Palace, a fine picture of P. Veronese, ‘Darius’s Family at the Feet of Alexander.’[13] The Barbarigo Palace has never been modernised, has kept all its original form and decorations. It is full of Titians, all very dirty and spoiling. The finest is the ‘Magdalen,’ which is famous. The Royal Academy, called the Scuola della Carità, contains a magnificent collection of the Venetian school.
[13] [This fine work is now in the National Gallery, London.]
In I forget which church is the ‘Martyrdom of St. Peter’ by Titian, so like in composition the same subject by Domenichino at Bologna that the one is certainly an imitation of the other (Titian died in 1576; Domenichino was born in 1581). There is the same sort of landscape, same number of figures, and in the same respective attitudes and actions, and even the same dress to each. In the hall of the Academy are preserved Canova’s right hand in an urn, and underneath it his chisel, with these words inscribed: ‘Quod amoris monumentum idem gloriæ instrumentum fuit.’ There is also a collection of drawings and sketches by various masters; some by M. Angelo and some by Raphael.
Vicenza, June 19th, 1830
VINCENZA AND PADUA This morning went again to St. Mark’s to examine the library and the palace, which I could hardly see the other day, it was such, gloomy weather. The library is open to everybody, but with a long list of rules, among which silence is particularly enjoined. The custos librorum is a thorough Venetian; talked with fond regret of the splendour of the Republic, and is very angry with Daru for his history. The Hall of the Great Council, containing the portraits of the Doges (and Marino Faliero’s black curtain), is splendid, and adorned with paintings of Paul Veronese, Bassano, Tintoret, and Palma Giovane. At twelve o’clock I got into the gondola and left Venice without the least regret or desire to return there. The banks of the Brenta would be very gay if the villas were inhabited, but most of them are shut up, like the palaces at Venice. There is one magnificent building, formerly a Pisani palace, which belongs to the Viceroy, the Archduke Rainer.
Padua is a large and rather gloomy town. They say it is beginning to flourish, having been ruined by the French, and that, since their downfall, the population has increased immensely. The University contains 1,400 scholars. It contained 52,500 in the time of the French, and in the great days of Padua 18,000. I went to look at the outside of the building, which is not large, but handsome. The old palace of the Carraras is half ruined, and what remains is tenanted by the commandant of the place. The old Sala di Giustizia, which, is very ancient, is now a lumber room, and they were painting scenes in it. Still it is undamaged, and they call it the finest room in Europe, and perhaps it is. It is 300 feet long, 100 wide, and 100 high. At one end of it is the monument and bust of Livy, the latter of which they pretend to have found here; they also talk of his house and the marbles, &c., that have been dug up in it, which they may believe who can. The Cathedral has nothing to boast of, except that Petrarch was one of its canons, and in it is his bust, put up by a brother canon. I had not time to go to the churches.
The whole road from Fusina to this place is as flat as the paper on which I am writing. I really don’t believe there is a molehill, but it is extremely gay from the variety of habitations and the prodigious cultivation of all sorts. Vicenza is one of the most agreeable towns I ever saw, and I would rather live in it than in any place I have seen since Rome. It is spacious and clean, full of Palladio’s architecture; besides the Palazzo della Ragione, a very fine building, there are twenty-two palaces built by him in various parts of the town. They show the house in which he lived. From the Church of Santa Maria del Monte, a mile from the town, there is a magnificent view, and the town itself, under the mountains of the Tyrol, and the end of a vast cultivated plain, looks very inviting and gay. There is a Campo di Marte, a public walk and drive, and from it a covered walk (colonnade) half a mile long up to the church on the hill. One of the most remarkable things here is the Olympic Theatre, which was begun by Palladio and finished by his son. It is a small Grecian theatre, exactly as he supposes those ancient theatres to have been, with the same proscenium, scenes, decorations, and seats for the audience. There appeared to me to be some material variations from the theatre at Pompeii. In the latter the seats go down to the level of the orchestra, which they do not here, and at Pompeii there is no depth behind the proscenium, whereas here there is very considerable. It is, however, a beautiful model. The air and the water are good, and there is shooting, so that I really think it would be possible to live here. They talk with horror of the French, and of the two seem to prefer the Austrians, but peace is better than war, cæteris paribus.
Brescia, June 21st, 1830
This is a particularly nice town, airy, spacious, and clean, and in my life I never saw so many good-looking women. There is a drive and walk on the ramparts, where I found all the beauty and fashion of Brescia, a string of carriages not quite so numerous as in Hyde Park, but a very decent display. The women are excessively dressed, and almost all wear black lace veils, thrown over the back of the head, which are very becoming. The BRESCIA AND MILAN walks on the ramparts are shaded by double rows of trees, and command a very pretty view of the mountains and country round. This inn is execrable. I stopped at Verona to see the Amphitheatre, which is only perfect in the inside, and has been kept so by repeated repairs. It is hardly worth seeing after the Flavian and the Pompeiian. There is a wooden theatre in it, where they act, and the spectators occupy the ancient seats. The tombs of the Scaligeri are admirable, the most beautiful and graceful Gothic; their castle (now the Castle Vecchio) a gloomy old building in a moat, but with a very curious bridge over the Po. The Church of St. Zeno is remarkable from its Gothic antiquity and the profusion of ornament about it of a strange sort. Here is the tomb of Pepin, erected by Charlemagne, but empty; for the French, in one of their invasions, carried the body to France. In the Cathedral is a fine picture of the ‘Assumption of the Virgin’ by Titian. I saw many Veronese beauties in their balconies, but none quite like Juliet. Her tomb (or, as they would say at Rome, ‘sepolcro detto di Giulietta’) I did not see, for it was too far off. I was in a hurry to be off, and there was nobody to detain me with a tender ‘Wilt thou be gone? It is not yet near’ night. The road, which is excellent, runs in sight of the Alps all the way, and the Lago di Garda is excessively pretty.