The Pigeons in St. Mark’s Square: Further description of the interior: The Palace of the Doges: “The Bridge of Sighs”: The general Archives of Venice: The Church of Santa Maria dei Frari: London Polytechnic Party: Some of the slums of Venice: Our farewell.
In the Piazza of St. Mark’s there may be seen, almost any time, some hundreds of pigeons. They are very tame, we passed them so closely I think we could have picked them up in our arms. There is an old legend that these pigeons are the safety valve of Venice. How? it is difficult to learn, but they are regarded almost with reverence. Twice a day they are fed by the public authorities. A huge bell is rung, and they come from all quarters of the city. They know the time of feeding and to show visitors that this is true, when the bell is not rung, the pigeons are there. If anyone hurts or kills one of these pigeons, he is fined heavily for the first offence, if it is repeated he is imprisoned. We went inside this beautiful church of St. Mark’s and at first we could not realise the magnificence, the beauty, the costliness of its interior. The columns of porphry and amalachite and verde antique, panels glittering with gold and gems, pavements dazzling in mosaic work.
After some time we began to realize the splendours by which we were surrounded. Mr. Ruskin, I think, gives a fine picture in very simple words of the beauties and richness of St. Mark’s: “Then opens before us a vast cave hewn out in the form of a cross, and divided into shadowy aisles by many pillars. Round the domes of its roof, the light enters only through narrow apertures, like large stars; here and there a ray or two from some far away casement wanders into darkness, and casts a narrow phosphoric stream upon the waves of marble that heave and fall in a thousand colours upon the floor. What else there is of light is from torches or silver lamps burning ceaselessly in the recesses of the chapels. The roof sheathed with gold, and the polished walls, covered with rich alabaster, gives back at every curve and angle some feeble gleaming to the flames: and the glories round the heads of the sculptured saints flash out upon us as we pass them, and sink into gloom. Under foot and over head a continual succession of crowded imagery, one picture passing into another as in a dream; forms beautiful and terrible, mixed together, dragons and serpents and ravenous beasts of prey, and graceful birds that in the midst of them, drink from running fountains and feed from vases of crystal. The passions and pleasures of human life symbolized together and the mystery of its redemption; for the mass of interwoven lines and changeful pictures lead always at last to the Cross lifted and carved in every place and upon every stone, sometimes with the serpent of eternity wrapped around it, with doves beneath its arms, and sweet herbage growing forth from its feet. But conspicuous most of all is the great road that crosses the church before the altar, raised in the bright blazonry against the shadow of the Apse.”