William Sharp—from whose “Life of Browning” I cull the passage just quoted—tells us that his friend selected the palace on the Grand Canal as a corner for his old age. Browning was “never happier, more sanguine, more joyous than here. He worked for three or four hours each morning, walked daily for about two hours, crossed occasionally to the Lido with his sister, and in the evenings visited friends or went to the opera.”
In 1889 Robert Browning died in Venice, on a December night, as “the great bell of San Marco struck ten.” He had just received news of the success of his “Asolando.” The poet was honoured in the city by a splendid and solemn funeral procession of black-draped gondolas, following the boat that held his body. Would he not have chosen to die in the Venice that he loved with such intense fervour?
Among the statuary in the streets is the image of Bartolomeo Colleoni on horseback, “I do not believe that there is a more glorious work of sculpture existing in the world,” writes Ruskin of this statue, which stands in front of SS. Giovanni e Paolo. In the Piazzetta by the Palace of the Doges are the two columns, which everyone associates with Venice, bearing images of the flying lion of St Mark, and of St Theodore treading upon a crocodile.
One other public building must be seen by the visitor. This is the beautiful library opposite the Doge’s Palace, an edifice that John Addington Symonds praises as one of the chief achievements of Venetian artists. The cathedral, the ducal palace, the library, and the Academy of Arts are certainly four impressive and splendid buildings.
If you have seen the old roofed bridge that spans the river at the head of the Lake of Lucerne, you will have an impression of the famous Rialto of Venice. The historic bridge is charged with memories of the days when “Venice sate in state throned on her hundred isles,” and citizens asked of one another, in the words of Solanio, in The Merchant of Venice. “Now, what news on the Rialto?” The bridge is mediæval in aspect, and romantic in its associations. You cannot lounge there without an apparition of Shylock, raving at the loss of the diamond that cost him two thousand ducats in Frankfort.
All around this “Queen of Cities” are places of supreme interest to the student of architecture and the lover of natural beauty. Padua, and Vicenza, with its rare monuments of Palladio, Murano, Torcello, and other towns and villages with histories are within access of Venice. But do not hasten from Venezia. It is a town in which one should roam and loiter for long days.
PERUGIA
A WHITE town, perched high on a bleak hill, is one’s first impression of Perugia. The position of the capital of Umbria is menacing, and without any confirmation of history, one surmises that this was once a Roman fortified town. After being built and held by the Etruscans, Perugia was taken by the Roman host, and called Augusta Perusia. For centuries the town was the terror of Umbria. Its citizens appear to have been a superior order of bold banditti, continually making raids on the surrounding towns and villages, and returning with spoil.
Mediæval traditions of Perugia are a romance of battle within and without the town. At one time one faction held sway, at another a rival faction gained the upper hand, and the natives spent much time and energy in endeavouring to kill one another. The story is perhaps more melodramatic than tragic. It reads almost like a novel of sensational episodes, related by a fertile and imaginative writer in order to thrill his readers.
Pope Paul III. was the subduer of Perugia. He dominated the town with a citadel, now destroyed, and broke the power of its martial inhabitants with the sword and the chain.