Wintering in the Riviera: With Notes of Travel in Italy and France, and Practical Hints to Travellers
John Stuart Mill · en
On occasion of our first trip we crossed the Canal di San Marco (really
an arm of the sea) to the island di San Georgio Maggiore, on which has
been built the church of that name, which, with its dome and columned
front, and its high, conspicuous campanile, is a boldly prominent and
graceful object from the town. The main attraction inside the church
is its beautiful carved wooden choir, representing the life of St.
Benedict, executed by Alberto di Bruli, of Flanders. It is likewise
filled with marbles, bronzes, and paintings; after examining which we
ascended the campanile and had a splendid view of Venice and of all
the islands. The view from it, indeed, is somewhat better than that
which we subsequently had from the campanile of San Marco, which looks
rather directly down upon Venice. From this island we rowed across to
another long island called La Guidica, forming one side of the canal
of the same name; and on this island is the church of Il Redentore,
which contains some fine marbles, and in the sacristy some paintings by
Bellini.
* * * * *
But it would be almost endless to describe the various churches which
in the course of our short stay we visited. Most of them are adorned by
pictures by Titian or by other great masters, by monumental sculptures,
and by every other species of ornamentation. I shall only mention the
names of some, with a remark.
The church of San Sebastian, containing the tomb of Paul Veronese,
and some of the finest specimens of that artist’s works. Santa Maria
della Salute, nearly opposite the Royal Palace, and at the entrance to
the Grand Canal—a vast church, which with its domes forms a striking
leading feature of Venice. It was erected after the plague of 1630,
and the only wonder is that there is not an annual plague in Venice,
the smells are so atrocious. The old church of San Stephano, with
its statues, monuments, and bronzes. When we visited it, a grand
funeral service was being performed; the singers led by a man with a
baton,—very unlike real mourning. The church of Santa Maria dei Frari,
full of monuments, paintings, and statues, but its main attractions are
the magnificent marble monuments to the memory of Titian and Canova,
in two very different styles of art. The church of the Scalzi, or
barefooted friars, gorgeously ornamented with marbles from all parts
of the world, some of the marbles being cut in curious imitation
of drapery and cushions. The church of the Jesuits, decorated in a
strange, florid style with black and white marble—in imitation of
damask patterns, I presume, inlaid somewhat like mosaics—pillars and
pilasters and other parts being all so covered, as if with cloth, in
black and white damask. It is elaborate and peculiar, and looks like a
freak in architecture. The church of San Giovanni et Paolo, a grand
old place, full of magnificent altars, fine columns, and gorgeous
monuments, most of them to Doges, very many of whom are buried here.