New-York tribune. [volume] (New York [N.Y.]) 1866-1924, 1912-12-01
An Italian Fortnight
uo,Ne ExrERoRs, INTERIORS SOCIAL 0ETAlLs-VENlcE
TO
copyright. 1912. by c. W. smslley)

the Roman State. Elsewhere you have
seen vineyards and been disappointed;
mere vines on sticks climbing a hill
side. But NY first drive here was
through vineyards belonging To my
host; the vines springing heavenward
on latticed frames on either side and
a canopy overhead; all masses and
masses Of purple grapes in close clus-
tiers about you and above you; long
avenues of them; luscious, fragrant
sunlit: the beauty OF them no longer in
the word only but in the thing. The
vintage was beginning. a thousand la
borers were gathering the fruit. and
day after day you met huge loads or
grapes and then great casks of grape
juice. and In the courtyard Of castle
stood the wine press from which flowed
wine in streams; the perfume of 1t in
the air, rather pungent, at that.
Next TO the vineyards come the fields
Of maize our Indian corn, miles and
miles of il. In the little Massachusetts
town where / was born there were
fields Of it: not quite so high as these
hut with the same tassels and spear
like leaves. And have ridden through
a cornfield in Maryland, on a Septem-
Der morning of 1862 where the golden
harvest was red with blood and my
horse hesitated In search of foothold
among the dying and dead. What
In ~ hn n q
yards the maize fields. the mulberry
trees for the silkworms, the broad
rivers, the canals. the racing roadside
streams. the immense outspreading
limitless level closed in 10 the north by
the Alps and TO the east by the Adri-
atic-this is Udine. and l suppose all
Venetia is much like it. l had never
seen ii before. / may never see IT
again. but here, too. is one more in
delible memory. And with ii, a part of
il, is the sweeter memory Of friendships
and friendly kindness and grace and
beauty and all the brilliancies OF life
together.
! left ii all a week agO-dates matter
nothing and i leave mine as II stands
and have seen Venice again and now
Paris-Venice for the third time and
Paris for the hundredth. About each
of them / have everything and nothing
to say. After Byron, after Ruskin,
after Taine, after Howells. who Will
venture to touch on Venice? The final
perle." Even the shrieking tea kettles
on the Grand Canal which stirred Rus
kin's ever unpeaceful soul 10 wrath
have not spoilt II. And is not Howells
now embalmed forever-or till the next
edition-in the prosaic pages OF
Baedeker; where his limpid, gently
flowing prose seems poetry? But you
have never really learned TO love Ven
ice till you have learned that the love-
lest thing in Venice is Venice. What
you see or don't see is not the most
vital TO you: What matters is the soul
of It; and the appeal Of Venice TO your
own soul.
l spent my last two days there among
the scenes and sights | care most for,
and everybody must care most for; the
most hackneyed and ever the newest;
the Palace, ST. Marks. the Piazza; GER
tain pictures and Venice from the new
Camparile. The central building OF
the world" said Ruskin OF the Doges
Palace; in The most eloquent passage
ne ever wrote. master Of eloquence as
he was There. If anywhere, you live
with the great Venetians Of the Renais-
sance. Let alone even the richness OF
the architecture. who ever used gold
and color as they did in the ceilings OF
the throne room and council rooms?
They borrowed the sunlight; 1t is there
to-day not less respondent than when
it first turned 10 gold: ana even the
deep briiliance of Veronese's color is
softened in the glow. The incrusta
tions Of St. Mark, which TO RUskin's
mind proved that no other form of in
terror decoration could rival with IT,
have no better promise OF immortal
youth
But the heart Of this living Venice Of
to-day. as Of other days, is the Piazza.
AS IL grows dusk and the stars and
LAMBS are 1T, and the great facades
loom statelier still and music fills the
air. and the music OF human voices
rises above it, and the Venetian RS"
roll like distant thunder, and flashing
glances from dark eyes come your way
and all ways-stranger as you are, YOU
feel yourself part of the pageant, and
YOU sit drinking your coffee In the open
air and wonder why anybody ever lives
anywhere else, since this is the only
really perfect place in all the world.
And then you come TO Paris. The
dav after had left Venice | stood at
the entrance Of the Ritz Hotel, in the
Place Vendome, at 6 in the afternoon.
The state apartments Of the Bristol ex-
cepted, every window-it is not usual
was lighted, and the sober architectural
splendor Of the Place was visible as
never saw il before. The dignity OF II,
the symmetry, the just proportions. the
sense Of space and purpose, were all the
stronger. The jewels in Boucheron's
ff0IqGc. the pictures on the nearer
corner were Just so many decorations
Taxis flashed past radiant beings de-
ecended from the glittering motors lhaI