It is related that one day St. Mark, in his progress through the city of Alexandria, saw a poor cobbler, who had wounded his hand severely with his awl, so as to be incapacitated from gaining his bread: St. Mark healed the wound; and the cobbler, whose name was Anianus, being converted and properly instructed, became a zealous Christian, and succeeded St. Mark as bishop of Alexandria. This miraculous cure of St. Anianus, and his subsequent baptism, are represented in two pictures by Mansueti.[116] In the Berlin Gallery is the cure of St. Anianus, by Cima da Conegliano; a large composition with many figures. The cure and baptism of St. Anianus, represented as a very aged man, form the subjects of two fine bas-reliefs on the façade of the School of St. Mark, by Tullio Lombardo, A.D. 1502.
In the Martyrdom of St. Mark, he is dragged through the streets by the enraged populace, who haul him along by a rope; a storm from above overwhelms the idolaters. The subject is thus represented by Angelico da Fiesole.[117]
A famous legend of St. Mark, which has been the subject of several pictures, can only be worthily given in the language of the old Venetian chronicle: there is something perfectly charming in the picturesque naïveté and matter-of-fact detail with which this wild and wonderful story is related; and if you, reader, have ever stood on the steps of the Piazzetta and looked over to San Giorgio, or San Niccolò, when the waves of the Lagune were foaming and driving up to your feet, and storm-clouds stooping and lowering seemed to touch the very domes and campanile around, then you will have the whole scene as a reality before you.
‘On the 25th of February, 1340, there fell out a wonderful thing in this land; for during three days the waters rose continually, and in the night there was fearful rain and tempest, such as had never been heard of. So great was the storm that the waters rose three cubits higher than had ever been known in Venice; and an old fisherman being in his little boat in the canal of St. Mark, reached with difficulty the Riva di San Marco, and there he fastened his boat, and waited the ceasing of the storm. And it is related that, at the time this storm was at the highest, there came an unknown man, and besought him that he would row him over to San Giorgio Maggiore, promising to pay him well; and the fisherman replied, “How is it possible to go to San Giorgio? we shall sink by the way!” But the man only besought him the more that he should set forth. So, seeing that it was the will of God, he arose and rowed over to San Giorgio Maggiore; and the man landed there, and desired the boatman to wait. In a short while he returned with a young man; and they said, “Now row towards San Niccolò di Lido.” And the fisherman said, “How can one possibly go so far with one oar?” And they said, “Row boldly, for it shall be possible to thee, and thou shalt be well paid.” And he went; and it appeared to him as if the waters were smooth. Being arrived at San Niccolò di Lido, the two men landed, and returned with a third, and, having entered into the boat, they commanded the fisherman that he should row beyond the two castles. And the tempest raged continually. Being come to the open sea, they beheld approaching, with such terrific speed that it appeared to fly over the waters, an enormous galley full of demons (as it is written in the Chronicles, and Marco Sabellino also makes mention of this miracle): the said bark approached the castles to overwhelm Venice, and to destroy it utterly; anon the sea, which had hitherto been tumultuous, became calm; and these three men, having made the sign of the cross, exorcised the demons, and commanded them to depart, and immediately the galley or the ship vanished. Then these three men commanded the fisherman to land them, the one at San Niccolò di Lido, the other at San Giorgio Maggiore, and the third at San Marco. And when he had landed the third, the fisherman, notwithstanding the miracle he had witnessed, desired that he would pay him; and he replied, “Thou art right; go now to the Doge, and to the Procuratore of St. Mark, and tell them what thou hast seen, for Venice would have been overwhelmed had it not been for us three. I am St. Mark the evangelist, the protector of this city; the other is the brave knight St. George; and he whom thou didst take up at the Lido is the holy bishop St. Nicholas. Say to the Doge and to the Procuratori[118] that they are to pay you; and tell them likewise that this tempest arose because of a certain schoolmaster dwelling at San Felice, who did sell his soul to the devil, and afterwards hanged himself.” And the fisherman replied, “If I should tell them this, they will not believe me.” Then St. Mark took off a ring which was on his finger, which ring was worth five ducats; and he said, “Show them this, and tell them when they look in the sanctuary they will not find it:” and thereupon he disappeared. The next morning, the said fisherman presented himself before the Doge and related all he had seen the night before, and showed him the ring for a sign. And the Procuratori having sent for the ring, and sought in the usual place, found it not; by reason of which miracle the fisherman was paid, and a solemn procession was ordained, giving thanks to God, and to the relics of the three holy saints, who rest in our land, and who delivered us from this great danger. The ring was given to Signor Marco Loredano and to Signor Andrea Dandolo the Procuratori, who placed it in the sanctuary; and, moreover, a perpetual provision was made for the aged fisherman above mentioned.’[119]
This legend is the subject of two celebrated pictures:—The first, attributed to Giorgione,[120] represents the storm. A ship, manned by demons, is seen towering over the waves: the demons appear to be seized with consternation; some fling themselves headlong over the side of their vessel, others are clinging to the rigging, others sit on the masts which flame with fire, and the glare is seen over the murky sky and sea. More in front are two barks, one rowed by four satyr-like demons, splendid figures admirably painted, literally glowing as if they were red-hot, and full of fierce animation. In the other bark are seen the three saints, St. Mark, St. Nicholas, and St. George, rowed by the fisherman; sea-monsters are sporting amid the waves, demons bestride them; the city of Venice is just visible in the far-off distance. The whole picture is full of vigour and poetic feeling; the fiery glow of colour and the romantic style of Giorgione suited the subject; and it has been admirably restored.
The second picture is by Paris Bordone,[121] and represents the fisherman presenting the miraculous ring of St. Mark to the Doge Gradenigo. It is like a grand piece of scenic decoration: we have before us a magnificent marble hall, with columns and buildings in perspective; to the right, on the summit of a flight of steps, sits the Doge in council; the poor fisherman, ascending the steps, holds forth the ring. The numerous figures, the vivid colour, the luxuriant architecture, remind us of Paul Veronese, with, however, more delicacy, both in colour and execution.
A Christian slave, in the service of a certain nobleman of Provence, disobeyed the commands of his lord, and persisted in paying his devotions at the shrine of St. Mark, which was at some distance. On his return home, he was condemned to the torture. As it was about to be inflicted, the saint himself descended from heaven to aid his votary; the instruments of torture were broken or blunted, the oppressor and his executioners confounded. This legend is the subject of a celebrated picture by Tintoretto,[122] of which Mr. Rogers had the original sketch. The slave lies on the ground amid a crowd of spectators, who look on, animated by all the various emotions of sympathy, rage, terror; a woman in front, with a child in her arms, has always been admired for the life-like vivacity of her attitude and expression. The executioner holds up the broken implements; St. Mark, with a headlong movement, seems to rush down from heaven in haste to save his worshipper; the dramatic grouping in this picture is wonderful; the colouring, in its gorgeous depth and harmony, is in Mr. Rogers’s sketch finer than in the picture.