Ca' d' Oro, on the Grand Canal.
The stranger, when in the privacy of his own apartment, makes his plan for the morrow. He resolves to throw off this idleness; he will rise betimes and visit the Academy, and later go to several churches. He awakes to find it already late, and by the time he steps into his gondola he has forgotten what he was to do, and straightway decides to go once more up the Grand Canal and gaze at those lovely palaces, which can only be seen to advantage in this way.
Emerging from the water as they do, their reflections in it add vastly to their attractiveness, much of which, I fancy, would be lost did they rise from the usual city sidewalk or even from green turf. Doubtless the lofty horseshoe arches of the lower arcades, the lightness of the open loggie or pergoli, and the style of their decorations were all considered in regard to the effect of their reflections, as much as to that of the edifices themselves. Then, too, their space is so prescribed that grandeur and breadth of design were not possible, and must be replaced by picturesque effects of decoration and fancy.
The plan of the old palaces of Venice is much the same in all. They rest on a very solid basis of oaken piles driven down until they meet the hard, Caranto stratum which underlies the silt. Larch timbers are then laid on the piles, and marble slabs in cement are built up above the water-level. The ground floor is principally devoted to storerooms intended for heavy goods, and has a broad entrance leading to them. The next floor, the mezzana, is the place of business, the mercantile portion of the establishment.
From the court the ascent is made to the third floor, where the family apartments begin. Many of the staircases are stately, and very beautiful in their ornamentation. They lead to the principal saloon or drawing-room of the house. Frequently these palaces are built with a central portion, with wings on each side. The great saloon occupies the whole of the central part, having on its front the loggia, overlooking the canal. On each side are smaller rooms. The next floor is less lofty, and has a spacious kitchen, besides several sleeping-apartments. Still above these are garrets and store-closets, close under the roof.
The principal pleasure to be derived from the palaces of Venice in these days is found by gazing at them while floating up and down the Canalezzo at various hours of the day, noting the exquisite effects of light and shade at morning, midday, and evening, especially the latter when there is a brilliant moonlight. Few of them now contain much that one cares to see, and few, indeed, have been kept up in such a way as to be anything but depressing. Those that are open to strangers are filled with the atmosphere of "the banquet-hall deserted." But all must agree with Ruskin in what he says of their exteriors:—
"The charm which Venice still possesses, and which for the last fifty years has made it the favorite haunt of all the painters of picturesque subjects, is owing to the effect of the Gothic palaces, mingled with those of the Renaissance.
"The effect is produced in two different ways. The Renaissance palaces are not more picturesque in themselves than the club-houses of Pall Mall; but they become delightful by the contrast of their severity and refinement with the rich and rude confusion of the sea life beneath them, and of their white and solid masonry with the green waves. Remove from beneath them the orange sails of the fishing-boats, the black gliding of the gondolas, the cumbered decks and rough crews of the barges of traffic, and the fretfulness of the green water along their foundations, and the Renaissance palaces possess no more interest than those of London or Paris. But the Gothic palaces are picturesque in themselves, and wield over us an independent power. Sea and sky and every other accessory might be taken away from them, and still they would be beautiful and strange."
Perhaps the Palazzo Vendramin Calergi is the most interesting of the Renaissance palaces, because it is well kept up, and its garden, with white statues and gilded railings, which are reflected in the water, adds much to the cheerfulness of its whole effect. It is more than four centuries old, and was built by Santi Lombardo for Andrea Loredan. A century later it was bought by the Duke of Brunswick, and then by the Duke of Mantua; but some legal quibbles made it necessary to sell it again, and since 1589 it has been in the families Calerghi and Grimani, has been owned by the Duchesse de Berri and the Comte de Chambord, as well as the Duca della Grazia.