Staunton spectator. [volume] (Staunton, Va.) 1849-1896, 1895-07-03
A VENETIAN PALACE.
ROBERT BARRETT BRoWNING G's BEAU
TlFUL HOUSE.


TlFUL HOUSE.
A Building Filled With Memories and
Relics of Two Poets Dear to Thousands.
The Owner Regards All Visitors His
Guests and Is Unusually Kind.
On the Grand canal at Venice there is
singularly interesting group of build
ings. First, at the corner of the small
canal which every tourist traverses ON
his way to and from the station is the
great red pile known as the Palazzo Fos-
carl 1t is now used as sort of business
college, and young Venetians learn
bookkeeping in the banquet halls of the
old doge. Next to it are two gray and
ancient buildings, leaning against each
other and the Foscari for support. They
form one of the Gustiniani palaces and
harbor mosaic factory Beyond is a
solid and rather gloomy looking build
ing somewhat a1oof from the neighbors
and with broad semicircular flight of
oUCPo 1Octl1lS llOlu tlO pl11dl Cu OAtl dAOO
down into the water of the Grand canal.
The posts outside for the convenience of
the gondolas are painted dull brown in
contrast with the blue and white posts
of the other palaces. High iron gates
close the entrance.
The first trip you make on the watery
highway of Venice your curiosity will
be satisfied in regard to this palace, if
on no other point, for every gondolier
knows the Browning palace Get him to
poke the nose of his gondolas between
those brown posts, and if the custodian
is not in sight ring the bell beside the
iron gates. A rather Grabbed looking
man will let you in, and with gruff-
ness which is only, as it were, skin deep
tell you to go through the court and up
the broad staircase at the rear.
In the court you will find bronze
statue of beautiful woman, about
whose nude body serpent has coiled its
folds. She holds its head to her bosom
and looks at it with strange fondness.
If you like speculation, you will begin
to wonder what manner of man it is
who modelled this figure, and you will
climb the staircase with more than ever
of anticipation, for the sculptor is Rob-
ert Barrett Browning, the sole heir to
the names of two great poets and the
master of the house you have come to
see.
At the top of the broad stairs the Gus
todian will be waiting for you at the
doors leading into great hall with a
high frescoed ceiling by Tiepolo and a
polished wood floor. If you are as young
as it is to be hoped you are, you will
take an experimental whirl across this
shining expanse while the custodian S
back is turned. Result, an envious sigh
when he announces that this is the sale
du bal. You sigh again even more wist-
fully when he tells you that few years
ago Emma Eames spent a month as a
guest in this palace, and that every even
ing she sang to her host and his friends
as they sat in the great easy chairs you
see on that island of rugs at the other
end of the hall. As if it were not
enough to have this delightful old pal
ace without also having one of the great
singers Of the world come and fill it
with music! You become more than
ever orthodox on the subject of "to
whom that hath shall be given. -
The custodian unwittingly helps to
ground you in the faith by leading you
through one apartment after another,
filled with beautiful old wood carving,
old frescoes, inlaid cabinets and pic
lures and statues by the owner of it all
More interesting than the works of art,
however, are the reminders of the two
poets whose personalities are SO dear to
thousands of people. Here is a bust of
Elizabeth Barrett Browning, modelled
by her son, and her portrait by the same
careful hand, and there is an earlier
portrait of her, more beautiful than
those one generally sees, and a bust of
her as young girl, with the curls in
the same way that she wore them all
her life. In one corner is the small writ
ing desk she used, and near it is the
bust of her husband. In a small alcove
is a reproduction of memorial tablet
in Florence
One is surprised to find how hvable this
big palace has been made. In the first
place, the owner in addition to the kind
ness of permitting people to visit the
house has added the courtesy of regard
ing them as probably honest Most
"show" houses are scrupulously swept
and garnished of everything which
makes them homelike and real. They
contain barren array of chairs, tables,
and so on, but that is all Mr.. Brown
ing has been kinder to the visitors,
whom he evidently regards as in way
his guests There are books on the table,
there is music on the rack in the music
room, and there are interesting photo
graphs of his father and mother. He
makes you feel as if he understood why
you came and was glad. You look at his
own photograph with a kindly interest
and are not sorry, after all, that he has
a palace, and that Emma Eames came
and sang to him.
He is, as shown by this photograph, a
man of 80 or 35, with dark hair, which
in your present kindly mood you regret
to see so thin on top. He has dark
mustache and seems well built fellow,
quite as capable of riding across country
as of painting the pictures and model
ing the statues with which the adjoin-
ing hall is filled.
The dining room, looking out on the
canal, has fine big fireplace, lined
with polished brass. You long to see
how the light would dance in it. The
buffers pantry adjoining is as large as
the dining room itself, and the walls
are covered with row after row of polish
ed china and glass. The library is being
made over to suit this fastidious young
man and will be most attractive with
the old carved pillars and woodwork he
has picked up, he knows where. The
floor above is occupied by bedrooms,
while the ground floor is the home of
the custodian, the 'boathouse, and
general storeroom. Cor. New
York Sun.
The Nove1ist's Refuge.
'I can't bring my tagged out fancy
up to the point of portraying the culmi-
mating love scene between the hero and
heroine of this story" soliloquized the
gifted novelist, 'tand I'll just say the
interview between Roderick and Pencil