Venice

by Clara Erskine Clement Waters

The coronation was followed by splendid festivities. A water fête was held; and a squadron of galleys, gayly and fancifully dressed with pennants, passed close along the canal in front of the palace, while choristers on board chanted verses in praise of the Doge and Dogaressa which were written for the occasion.

The procession of trades was an imposing feature of this festival. It was led by the smiths, who, wearing crowns and chaplets of flowers, carried banners and marched to the sound of musical instruments; the furriers followed, arrayed in ermine and minnever; and then came the skinners in taffeta robes, displaying their choicest manufactures; these were succeeded by the tanners, iron-masters, barbers, hosiers, drapers, cotton-spinners, gold-cloth workers dressed in their precious products, the weavers and tailors attired in sumptuous white costumes with rich, fur-trimmed mantles. The dress of the mercers, glass-blowers, fishmongers, butchers, and victuallers was equally costly, some being red and others yellow. Each corporation wore a badge or token of their calling, and the drapers carried olive branches in their hands.

The four deputies of the barbers were disguised as knights errant, two being mounted on richly caparisoned horses, while the other two walked beside them; they were accompanied by four damsels, fantastically dressed, whom they claimed to have rescued from deadly peril. When they were near the platform of the Doge, they halted and made a speech claiming to have come from some far country seeking their fortunes, and offering to defend the maidens against any others who might claim them. The Doge made a reply of welcome, and assured them of their safety under his protection; they then shouted, "Long live our Prince, the noble Doge of Venice!" and moved on.

Then ten master-tailors changed their dresses, and donned white suits sprinkled with vermilion stars, and traversed the city singing the popular songs of the day; each one carried a goblet of malmsey and occasionally sipped it. This was extremely Venetian; and we can but wonder if the tunes these tailors sung are not the same that have descended through many generations to the gondoliers of our own day.

There were also games in which buffoons played the principal parts, and men carrying cages of birds many of which were liberated when they came near the court; this was greeted with hearty approbation, and the whole scene was as merry as possible. We are sorry to add that then, as now on like occasions, there were many light-fingered ones among the crowd who filled their pockets at the expense of honest folk.

All these entertainments closed with an industrial exhibition in the palace in compliment to the Dogaressa, who, as she passed through the apartments, was presented with gifts which she graciously received; and thus auspiciously was the reign of the new Doge inaugurated.

This flattered his vanity; and when he was borne about the Piazza, scattering gold as he went, he may have been elated and imagined himself of great consequence. Every four years the citizens swore allegiance to him, his person was declared sacred, and he never left the palace without an attendant train of nobles and citizens. On the other hand, his oath now obliged him to execute the orders of the various councils implicitly. He was not permitted to exhibit his portrait, bust, or coat-of-arms outside the Ducal Palace; he could not announce his election to any court save that of Rome; no one could kiss his hand, or kneel to him, or make him gifts,—in short, no homage must be personal to the Doge; it must be rendered to the aristocracy who had made him Doge, and who were the State. No member of the Doge's family could hold government appointments in any part of the Venetian territory; and his sons, who had formerly been associated with him in office, could now be elected to the Great Council and Senate only, and in the latter had no vote.

To make the power behind the throne more absolute, it was finally decreed that no one elected to the ducal office could refuse to serve, neither could he resign nor leave Venice. Thus the Ducal Palace became a prison, and the Doge the only man in Venice who absolutely could have no will of his own.

The quiet that followed the execution of Bocconio was a quiet full of storms. The discontents were not yet ready, and had no leader to inaugurate a revolution. Meantime the foreign policy of Gradenigo was making him the best-hated man imaginable. He had involved the Republic in a most disastrous war with Ferrara, in consequence of which the Pope had pronounced the sentence of excommunication against the whole Republic of Venice. It is difficult in our day to appreciate the full meaning of this.