G. R. Michiel, Origini, i. 197.
as one long cabin or saloon, taking the whole length of the vessel, but rising by a step at the after end, and having a small window at the stern from which the Doge threw out the ring in the course of the ceremony. His throne was further raised by two steps. Over the cabin were spread enormous draperies of crimson velvet, ornamented with gold fringe, gold lace, and gold tassels. In the stern, within the cabin, was figured a marine Victory with appropriate trophies, and two carved babies, of the rotund and well-creased breed dear to the eighteenth century, supported a huge shell as a canopy over the throne. The fair Giustina Michiel’s description of the decorations makes one’s blood run cold. Prudence and Strength stood sentinels at the Doge’s elbows. In the ceiling of the saloon Apollo smiled upon the nine Muses, pleased to consider the Bucentaur as his temple; the Virtues were inappropriately present, too, and with more reason the Arts, or Occupations, of Shipbuilding, Fishing, Hunting, and the like. The saloon had no less than forty-eight windows, from which the numerous party of ambassadors, magistrates, and distinguished strangers who accompanied the Doge could see all that went on. Lastly, the vessel’s figurehead was a colossal wooden statue of Justice, ‘protecting goddess of every well-regulated government,’ says the lady Giustina, and therefore as inappropriate there as the Virtues themselves.
At the hour of tierce, which was somewhere near eight o’clock in the morning at Ascension, all the bells began to ring, except, I think, that solemn one that tolled while condemned men were being led to death; and excepting, too, that one of lighter tone, the ‘Bankrupt’s Bell,’ which was rung every day for half an hour about noon, during which time debtors might walk abroad and sun themselves without being arrested.
Then the Doge came from his palace preceded by his squires, and the silver trumpets, and the standards, and the bearer of the ducal sword, and the
Carrer, Annali.
Missier Grande, who was nothing more nor less than the head constable of Venice; and after his Serenity came the High Chancellor, the Pope’s Nuncio, the ambassadors, and the principal magistrates. When all were on board the Bucentaur, a salute of artillery gave the signal of departure, and the huge oars began to swing and dip; and after the big barge came the smaller one of the ‘Doge’ of the fishermen, the Niccolotti, the little ‘peota’ of the Murano glass-blowers, and the barges and boats of the Signory, and all the gondolas of Venice, richly draped for that one day. So all moved slowly out; and when they passed the statue of the Virgin before the Arsenal all the people sang, and sent up prayers and invocations with suppliant gestures ‘to the Great Mother of Victories,’ and the sailors cheered and yelled. Then they went on to Saint Helen’s island.
There the Patriarch was waiting with his flat boat, and the monks of Saint Helen served him a collation of chestnuts and red wine, which, at eight or nine o’clock in the morning, was cruelly ungastronomic; and the Patriarch gave his sailors bread and fresh broad beans in the shell.
The Patriarch sent acolytes to the Doge with a nosegay of Damascus roses; and his flat boat having been taken in tow by the Bucentaur, and another boat in which a choir sang the hymns composed for the occasion, they all moved out towards the open sea.
Then, in profound silence, the Doge opened the little stern window behind his throne, and the Patriarch,
Horatio Brown, Venice.