The Roanoke times. [volume] (Roanoke, Va.) 1890-1895, 1894-03-01
BRIDGE OF SIGNS AT VENICE.
Tho Famous Arcliway Around Which Ro.
nance Thiokly Clusters.

Anu <NEChWay ArOuuu W Mon TO-
nance Thickly Clusters.
In tho heart of Venice, between the
magnificent palace of tho doges and tho
grim walls of the old prison, flow the
dark waters Of the Rio del Palazzo and
across the canal stretches the Bridge of
Sighs-connecting link between the
splendors of palace and tho terrors of
the dungeon, the torture chamber and
tho heading block. Ono of the most no
ticeable points about this bridge is the
fact that it is closed in, thus proving
all stories of suicides committed from
it to be fabulous.
This fact robs the Bridge Of Signs Of
ono OF its most romantic associations
of its pretty legends of grief laden NOR
tails hoaving their last sigh upon its
parapet and ending their sorrowing
lives in the black waters beneath it.
From without the bridge, with its arch
like form, it's ornamental stonework, its
grotesquely carved heads and its small
square windows filled in with iron trac-
cry, presents rather fine appearance,
but the interior is strictly devoid of or
nament and has not the slightest pre-
tensions to beauty.
During our visit to Venice of course
we included the doges' palace and the
dungeons in our programme. After
wandering for some time through the
vast halls and beautiful saloons Of the
old Venetian palace we passed over the
Bridge Of Signs on our way to the
gloomy cells. The bridge seemed to be
little moro than narrow passage be-
tween two thick walls Of stone, and I'M
less you stepped up onto tho slightly
raised stonework which runs along be-
meath the tiny windows on either side
and caught glimpse Of the canal with
out you might easily take it for an ordi-
nary passage within the palace. AT the
far end of the bridge our progress was
barred by grim looking oaken door
nail studded, age blackened and Of i'm
mense thickness guarding the entrance
to the dungeons. Our guides came to a
halt. There was ]ingling Of keys, n
lighting of torches; then the great door
swung slowly back, and we passed into
tho darkness beyond When next we
passed the ancient door and crossed the
Bridge of Signs, it was with the memory
of those terrible cells, those fearful dun
geons where tho hapless prisoners en-
dured the most horrible tortures that
tyranny could devise or brutality in
hict
remember strolling, on the last
evening of our holiday in Venice, along
tho Piazza San Marco and making my
way to the Ponto della Paglia to take a
farewell look at the Bridge of Signs. 1t
was a summer evening, hot and sultry,
while tho fast gathering clouds, dense
and inky, bctokened an approaching
storm. l had just reached the Ponte
della Paglia and was gazing at the
Bridge of Signs when n tremendous
peal of thunder rent the heavens, seem
ing to shake the city to its very founda-
lions with its violence.
Suddenly a binding flash of lightning
lit up the palace, bridge and dungeons
with its lurid flare. For an instant the
bridge stood out with dazzling distinct
ness, while tho lightning played on its
tIaceried windows; then all seemed
dark. And this was tho last saw of
the Bridge of Signs. Chron-
icle.