Nashville union and American. [volume] (Nashville, Tenn.) 1868-1875, 1875-04-18


Turkish architecture, is adorned within
and without with the costliest marbles.
The whole ceiling is covered with beau.
tiful figures, wrought IN gold Mosaic
rand representing Bible history. tt
name and chief interest, however,
comes from the fact that the bones Of
st. Mark repose beneath the high al
tar. In this edifce also transpiIed the
closing scene Of a long and disastrous
war between Germany and the Church
of Rome: for In its Festibule the spot
is still pointed out where Frederick
BarharOssa knelt before Pope Alexan-
der III. and kissed the stones at his
feet In token of submission. The
PALACE OF THE DoGE
is not attractive In appearance, but is
replete with historical interest.
At the head of the great staircase
are two receptacles for letters, in
the form Of lions mouths, into which
were cast accusations against anybody.
One was for charges made BY the no
bles, the other for those preferred by
the plebeians. The accused were
brought into the Palace from the
prison which is connected with it, by a
narrow covered bridge of a single arch.
This is the famous
BRIDGE OF sIGHs,
and was so called because the accused,
IN passing over it, always heayed a
sigh, as he looked out at the bright
sky, knowing full well, that he would
never again behold it. In the interior
Of the Palace, there is shown a small
rom, with ten a~rm-chairs, where the
Council of that number held its sit
tings. All prisoners, political or Grim
inal, first came before this tribunal. II
the case was serious, the prisoner was
sent before the dread Council Of Three.
These three men masked, sat In a dark
little room and Intercepted the pris-
oner; at hand were thumb screws and
all the appliances of torture, to which
he was subjected, if he failed to confess
the crimes Of which they wished him
to be guilty. If his punishment was
Imprisonment, he was sent in winter,
to dungeons far beneath the level of
the water, where no ray Of light ever
penetrated, and where the air was al
ways damp and clammy; in summer he
was placed at the top of the house IN a
cage with a leaden roof. The scOrch.
ing sun poured down on the roof, within
was scarcely a breath Of air, while his
bed was filed with heas and other YER
min, to make life as miserable as posible.
Should the sentence be death, as was
too frequently the case, a masked gon-
dOher, IN the service of the State,
rowed at night with the victim out into
the lagoons, and dropped the living
body with a weight attached into the
water. Whether the prisoner were
living or dead, his friends never knew,
nor who were his judges andhis eIecu-
TONERS.
The grand reception hall Of the Pal
ace, where all the mobiles were wont to
assemble on occasions Of ceremony,
never fails to excite the strangers in
terest. The inches Of the cornice are
adorned with portraits Of the Doges in
the order Of their succession. One va
cant space attracts the observers eye.
Here is no portrait, buta black ground,
partly concealed by a white veil,
through the folds Of which is with diff
fculty deciphered these words-"This
is the place Of Marine FalierO, be-
headed for his crimes" The mobiles
thought to consign the memory of
the only traitor Doge TO oblivion, but
instead have endowed him with an "im-
mortality Of ILL.," while all others are
passed by with a glance, unrecOgnized
and unnamed. The Venetian school
Of painting opens atbeme rich IN profit
and enjoyment, and proofs of history
are at hand in every church; but pass
ing all this, let Is ascend the
CAMPANILE
or bell tower Of St. Marx, and from this
airy height bid adieu TO Venice. Far
away beyond the mainland the mighty
Alps rise in hugh masses, high up
against the sky. Nearer a hay out
line marks where earth and ocean
meet. The rays Of the setting SUI lie
in broad sheets Of gold upon the silent
waters. The city, ike a grand floating
palace, is beneath and around you. At
your feet is the Square of St. Marx.
GOndola after gondola deposits at the
quay its human freight; all Venice is
gathering here. Gay p~romenaders pass
up and down, chattering and gOssiping.
Vast numbers Of pigeons, Sacred bird
of Venice, follow groups Of children,
receiving, without fear, from their
hands their evening meal. The cafes
are thronged with Tile bachelors, silent
spectators Of the moving mass. From
a grand stand III the center a magnif-
cent band d~iscourses the music Of ev-
cry cline, thus ~animating the gay and
soothing the spirit of the sad. Such is
the life Of Venice Of to-day-toO tran
quil, perhaps, for the mercurlaltempeI-
ment Of Americans, but ineIpressibly
dear to the indolent, pleasure-loving
children Of Italy. R. B. L.