The San Francisco call. [volume] (San Francisco [Calif.]) 1895-1913, 1895-06-12
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the hardest task of all-of yielding, of sur
rendering our fair city which never yet
has been yielded to woman's hand. And
canst thou now try thy power of queen?
1t took Napoleon to bow our heads after
fourteen hundred years of freedom and
prosperity. 1t was no Venetian who drunk
with her caresses madly threw a world
| away Semiramis has shared our power
or lent Assyrian Iuster to our own au-
thority. No Maria Theresa, with her babe,
could move the Doge's breast to war. Yet
have we reverenced woman always as the
blind Othello did, but our conquerors
have been made of sterner stuff. Whole
nations have com bined to check one city's
pride and failed.
"Our city was Europe's gateway to the
East. Through US has flowed the commerce
of the world. We snatched the great
bronze horses from Nero's golden chariot
of the sun. We stretched our dominion as
far as the realms of Constantine and held
back the Saracen tide. St. Sophia
yielded the treasures of her sanctuary to
beautify st. Marks. The plunder of
thousand cities lent beauty to our ducal
palaces. We forced Frederick Barbarossa
to his knees. The very sea belonged to
Venice by right of conquest, and was sub
iect to her as bride to her lord. Each
year she was welded with ring and for
this did our bidding.
But now what do we see in Venice2
The glittering spires, the lordly palaces, the
marble bridges-all are there; but the gon-
doiier is sadder than he used to be- The
brilliancy of pageants is no more. The
gondolas-those dusky spirits of the canal
are all in somber black as for funeral.
"The fete days and the festivals all are
dwindled into days of grief. Only the sum
set in its golden glory remains to remind
US of the splendor of the past. And why
this changer That spirit city-that golden
city has fallen into the grasp of tyranny.
1t staggers beneath despotic sway. It's
freedom and it's pride are now no more.
! The Venetian has wrapped himself in his
dark mantle to await the end-hope, am
bition, glory, all are gone. A hundred
years ago we recoiled from our first defeat
at the hands of the great Napoleon and
since have lain stunned, waiting for a new
lease of life to stir US to new deeds, and
now it remains for us to call Venice of
those grand days across the waters to these
Western shores. And l, an old, old Doge,
imagine if you can my Joy in finding here
in this land of liberty the promise of new
Venetian splendor. Venice shall live and
thrive once more in this new Italy of the
West. I find the old Doges pride arising in
my heart-that pride for free and happy
people. And this the Queen of all the glory
that is to be. My mind now turns to the
past, when on the return of the victorious
! Venetian warriors from the East they
were asked: What hast thou brought
for the glory of st. Mark's?' He who
brought nothing for the church was
looked on with reproach and scorn. And
how that question has reverted to my Uind
and how l have longed to acquit myself
by consigning to that sanctuary some
trophy of precious worth. And now the
time has come. More precious than any
trophy shalt thou be, o Queen, to this, thy
conquered people. The heart of all this
populace throbs with mine in the welcome
would express for them.
'But like unto Solomon, overcome by
the beauty and grandeur of the Queen of
Sheba, SO flnu words inadequate to well
come thee. Come make our hearts your
home. As an Italian Venice, so here we
shall gather the dark-eyed Spaniard, the
smiling Turk, the Indian mystic of the
East, all the nations of Europe and the
Orient to smile on thee, the Queen OF Car