The statue was designed by "Andrew the keen-eyed" (Verocchio), but was completed by Alessandro Leopardi, whose name is seen on the horse's girth. The story goes that Verocchio came to Venice, and had modelled the horse when he was told that another artist was to execute the rider. In his indignation at this he broke the head and legs of the horse into fragments, and returned to Florence. The Senate sent after him a decree prohibiting his again entering Venice under pain of death. To this he replied that he would surely obey, as he knew that were his head taken off no power in Venice could replace it, while he could easily replace the head of his horse, and doubtless improve it.
After a while the Venetians realized his value to them, and rescinded the edict, at the same time asking him to return, with the promise that he should be undisturbed, and should have his pay doubled. Verocchio was thus pacified, but had not finished his horse when he was attacked by a fatal illness, and in his will begged the Senate to permit his pupil Lorenzo di Credi to complete the work. In spite of this, the Venetian Leopardi received the commission, which he executed so well as to be afterwards called Leopardi del Cavallo. The figure of the rider of this wonderful horse sits straight in the saddle, with its head turned so as to look over the left shoulder. The face shows remarkable determination, and the deep-set eyes are in accord with this expression. It is clad in armor, with a helmet on the head. The trappings of the horse are richly ornamented, and the mane is knotted. The elegance of the pedestal adds much to the effect of the whole.
Mrs. Oliphant may well say: "It is a great thing for a man when he has some slave of genius either with pen or brush or plastic clay to make his portrait. Sforza was a much greater general than Colleoni, but had no Verocchio to model him. Indeed, our Bartolommeo has no pretensions to stand in the first rank of the mediæval condottieri." And as I have tried to trace his story I have thought that had he not given so generous a sum of money to Venice, and had she not made this statue, we should scarcely have heard of him. Is not this in reality a monument to Verocchio and Leopardi rather than to Colleoni?
CHAPTER XI.
AN AUTUMN RAMBLE.
The artist has gone on a tramp in the Alps, and now begins the long neglected sight-seeing,—a pure delight in the golden October days. There is no such haste in the early morning as in the summer time, and it is usually ten o'clock when I have read my papers, written my letters, and Anita is ready to go with me with her never-failing luncheon-basket; for we do not like to be bound to return at a fixed hour, and we never know quite where we shall be when we are hungry, so we take our collazione with us. As a rule we are home again at four, just in good time for a cup of tea and a rest before dinner. When the summer is over, it is delightful to feel that the gondola is not obligatory, to use it only for excursions on the lagoons, for views on the Grand Canal, for moonlit evenings, and when one is indolent. Venice is quite another place when one walks and makes the acquaintance of the curious, characteristic campi and calli, as well as of some of the people. One of the most charming walks is along the Riva degli Schiavoni, ending at the Arsenal, after various detours.
Passing through the Piazzetta, we turn to the left on the Molo. This side of the Ducal Palace is beautiful in spite of the disproportion in the height of the lower story; this is caused by the rising of the sea-level, which is said to average three inches in a century, and consequently the pavement must be raised; if this is correct, the columns of the palace must be fifteen inches below the present pavement. The entire loggie on this side of the palace are the work of the Bon family; the designs on the capitals of the columns are very curious, illustrating mediæval allegories and legends which symbolize justice and good government. The windows are fine, and the balcony in the centre is richly ornamented; the bas-reliefs are wrought with great delicacy and skill.
