Nashville union and American. [volume] (Nashville, Tenn.) 1868-1875, 1875-04-18
VENICE.
Past and Pressnt-Pafaee OF the DOEe
Bridge OF signs, Etc.

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rians shouldbe deeplylearne and critics
should exhaust their themes, the hum
bic Office of correspondent is chiefly to
entertain; hence this letter only at
tempts to stimulate the fancy Of those
who never have, and refresh the men,
DRY Of those who have, seen this Child
Of the Ocean. Venice Is built far out
IN the sea, on a hundred little isles. A
break-water Of vast extent, letting In
and out the tide, keeps her canals as
smooth as the bosom of a lake, while
without storms may rage. The islands
vary IN size from ~ to five acres, and
the distance from one to another is sell
dom greater than a girl can throw a
/ stone. But little earth is visible, as the
hOusesris immediately fromthe waters
/ edge to the hight Of four or five stOries.
The front doors open directly upon the
water, and a gondOla is generally fast
ened to apOst near by; it is the occu.
pants carriage. The more preten-
/ tiOus edi6ces are IN the form
of q hollow square. The enclosed
space serves for recreation and is gen.
! orally adorned with flowers and tropical
plants.
A narrow alley lined with shops and
humble dwellings trayerses the island
IN its greatest extent. A bridge at
/ either ACCOMPLISHMENTS It with those
/ which are nearest. The spaces be-
/ tween the islands are, Of course, cover
! ed with water and constitute the canals
or streets Of the city. Imagine a hun
dred islands thus built up and connect
ed by more than three hundred bridges,
and You viii have a toleraSly correct
idea Of the topography Of Venice.
The peculiar situation, original gov
eminent and wonderful history of
Venice have combined to throw a halo
| Of romance over all that concerns it.
! Every tourist who has read Byron and
whose mind Is filed with the hundred
| and one tales about this City in the
| Sea, comes hoping to experience a re-
/ alizatiOn Of all that he has read. He
| expects to ride IN the beautiful gOndOla
through broad streets lined with
marble palaces, and at night to see
/ these palaces brilliantly Illuminated,
casting lights and shadows on the
| placid waters, while hundreds Of bright
~ painted g0ndolas glide hither end
thither, bearing their precious freight
| IF Venetian aristOcracy. He listens
to catch sweet notes from some senti-
mental lovers lutte, as he sits IN his
boat beneath the window Of his be-
/ loved.
Her hopes TO meet in the great cen
I tire Of the city, gallant cavaliers and
/ dark haired Venetian beauties, to see
/ shops filed with the choicest wares Of
the East, and the flags Of all nations
waving in the harbors. Such was
Venice Of the past and as such every
one expects or at least hopes to find 1t
now.
As You step out Of the depot, Condo
/ las meet You it is true, but they are not
| the beautiful things Of the imagination;
instead they are all Of one color, inky
/ black, and look Ike canoes,
with a Saratoga trunk II the middle
for passengers. The g0ndoliers are a
motley crew, regular -hat-bOatmen, who
veil, wave their oars IN air, and scTam-
bic for customers Just ike New York
| hackmen. The principal object which
attracts the eye on arriving, IS the
] Grand Canal as it sweeps in graceful
| curves throughout the entire length OF
| the city. This wastbe ancient aubOurg
| st. German, and no one whose name
was not inscribed on the golden book
was permitted to dwell along its bor-
| ders. Here victorious wars we're cele-
brated by grand triumphant process
| sions. Here the annual regatta for the
encouragement of rowing took place.
/ The D3ge, in his barge Of State, sur
rounded by all the gentle blOodO Of Ven
ice, witnessed the contest and himself
crowned the victor. 1t Is stiu the great
artery u traffic and pleasure, and from
the hundred little side canals boats
glide into this great one, pursue their
course for a time, and then disappear
into other small ones. Marble palaces
still line ITS banks, but they are N a
sadly dilapidated condition, and are
now used for hotels, banks, and for
other purposes OF profit. Their former
noble owners haveeither altogether dis
appeared from the scene, or live IN the
g~arrets. cking ont their scanty reye-
nues from the rent Of the lower stories.
VENICE OF THE PRESENT
is. indeed, TO Venice Of the past what
the cray-haired, lettering old man who
has outEved family and friends is to
the same person when rejoicing IN
youth, strength and beauty-a mag
nihcent wreck, bearing traces of former
grandeur, but rapidly Fastening to de-
cav. a few struggling Industries and
the tribute Of strangers bs-ely sustain
: the present diminished population.
Her government Is overthrow, her
| nobility Is extinct, and the sceptre of
h. the seas has long since been transferred
. to distant shores. sat at midnight on
the balcony Of one Of these old palaces,
bouing to drink In the peculiar life of
= Venice. but no sound was heard save
the dip Of the oars as jewellers returned
late from the amUsemeuts, or the slfTlll
cry of gondOlieIs warning erch other
g of tbcir approach. Music IS now sell
: dom heard on the waters. The an
Gent gondOliers were wont to an
Z swer each other, verse to verse,
: from Italia's sweetest bard, and
thus to break the stiffness Of the
G. nirht. with concord Of sweet sounds.
T Their degenerate successors content
themselves IN passing with the couT'
p tesv OF an oath. With the exception
: of a fev churches scattered over the
. city. the tourists interest centers in
= one place, the great
SQUARE OF ST. MARK.
This is the largest open space II
g Venice. Here were the palaces Of no
I bles and Offices Of government covering
three of its sides. The church Of St
Mark and the Doge's palace to tn
rear and side, complete the square ant
g stretch away to he Grand Canal. Thi
square, paved with v~ariegated tiles an,
b1rdered with cafes, Is the scene Of til
Carnival and has long been the pleas
ure ground Of the city. The church o
: ] ST, Mark, Of Christian origin, bu