citinotes
The merchant of Venice
Each time my gaze falls upon the magnificent palaces of Venice, an opulent architecture incomparable to anything else, I am reminded of the first Venetians and the extraordinary miracle they brought forth. How did a mere handful of fishermen, initially poor refugees upon their arrival in the marshes of Veneto, manage to transform a small expanse of wetland into an empire the world had never witnessed before-and perhaps never since?
The answer lies beneath the shallow bottom of its lagoon, formed by mud, salt, and wood. In the early days of the Republic, Venetians recognized the commercial value of salt-an indispensable food preservative in the medieval world-a mineral abundantly available in their waters. Salt became the “fondamento,” the foundation, that charted the city’s course to glory. By the 7th century, Venice was producing its own salt at Chioggia for trade, later advancing to purchasing and establishing salt production across the Eastern Mediterranean. Venetian merchants strategically acquired salt and production
facilities from various regions, including Egypt, Algeria, the Crimean Peninsula, Sardinia, Ibiza, Crete, and Cyprus. With the initial proceeds from trade and taxes, Venetians invested in shipbuilding, capitalizing on the abundant wood reserves in nearby forests. To streamline production, they established the renowned Arsenale shipyard, swiftly evolving into Europe’s largest industrial center.
The shipbuilders of the Arsenale were true pioneers, introducing revolutionary techniques that transformed naval construction. They innovatively devised a faster and more material-efficient process by constructing the frame before the hull -a groundbreaking approach that gave rise to the Great Galley, a symbolic representation of Venetian inventiveness. Additionally, they were trailblazers in employing standardized, interchangeable parts and implementing a moving assembly line -an unprecedented concept for their time. Rather than requiring workers to travel to the galleys, a canal was ingeniously designed to transport construction parts, materials, and even the galleys themselves to the workers. This ingenious process, combined with a substantial workforce reaching up to 16,000 in the 16th century, enabled the Arsenale to achieve an astonishing feat: building vessels in a single day, a task that other cities needed months to accomplish.
Empowered by the world’s most formidable shipyard, the Republic of Venice established an immense fleet that dominated trade routes for centuries. Furthermore, Venice’s strategic geographical position played a pivotal role in elevating the city into a major commercial nexus connecting Europe and Asia. Trade between the West and the East flourished, with commodities such as grain, cotton, and wine flowing from the West to the East, while spices and silk traversed from the East to the West. The legendary journey of Marco Polo in China, along with his detailed chronicle and descriptions of local cultures, inspired countless generations of explorers.
Given its modest size, Venice opted for a unique approach to world domination. Instead of deploying costly armies for territorial conquests, the Venetians established an extensive network of trading posts, negotiating advantageous concessions and privileges, including trading rights, harbor access, and tax exemptions. To safeguard these posts, troops were stationed, and fortresses were erected along a strategic trail spanning the Adriatic and Aegean Seas. Numerous islands in Greece and strategically positioned harbors in the Peloponnese still bear the architectural remnants of these medieval constructions, serving as living testaments to the enduring glory of Venice.
Periodically, the Great Galleys carried more than just commercial goods. In 828 A.D., Venice, an emerging power aspiring to a grand statehood comparable to Constantinople, Rome, or Jerusalem, sought to forge its identity. Two merchants were dispatched to Alexandria with a clandestine mission: to smuggle the relics of Saint Mark the Evangelist. His remains found a new abode in the grand Basilica set in the square named after him; his allegorical representation, the winged lion, became the emblem of the Venetian standard and the symbol of an entire empire. Saint Mark, a revered patron saint, bestowed the prestigious credential Venice needed to present itself to the world. Four centuries later, in 1204, the Venetian fleet allied with the Crusaders to sack Constantinople, acquiring four bronze horses from the local hippodrome to adorn the Basilica of Saint Mark.
As sailors navigated trade routes, back in Venice, the city cultivated its own expertise. Glass production likely commenced around 450 A.D., with the arrival of glassmakers from the Roman city of Aquileia. After an initial apprenticeship alongside craftsmen from Byzantium and the Middle East, Venetians developed proprietary techniques, prohibited from disclosure outside Venice. The relocation of furnaces to the Island of Murano not only shielded the main islands from accidents but also secluded the glassmaking process. Centuries later, visitors from around the globe continue to flock to Murano to admire and acquire exquisite glassware, jewelry, mirrors, and lace crafted in Venice.
Numerous novels, essays, and travel accounts have chronicled the story of Venice as a dominant trade power, shedding light on different facets and milestones of its evolution. Patrick Rambaud (1946), a French novelist and recipient of prestigious literary prizes from the Goncourt and French Academies, explores the historical yet whimsical smuggling of Saint Mark’s remains from Egypt to Venice in his novel “Quand Dieu apprenait le dessin” (“When God Learned How to Sketch”). Rambaud’s deployment of irony and imagination in depicting the dialogues between the smugglers adds an enchanting layer to this historical narrative.
Paul Morand (1888 – 1976) was a French author who had the opportunity to travel widely across the world, as a diplomat. His travel notes of London, New York, India, and Venice are notable for their keen insights into local cultures and lifestyles. In the chosen excerpt, he weaves a captivating tale of the rise and fall of the Venetian Republic, akin to a thrilling fairytale of galleons, feluccas, and triremes transporting the city’s merchandise and glory from Flanders to Beirut, and from China to Porto.
Among the enduring trophies of Venetian explorations are two magnificent lion sculptures, brought from the Piraeus port of Athens to stand sentinel at the gates of the Arsenale. Their regal countenance left a lasting impression on Théophile Gautier (1811 – 1872) and François-René de Chateaubriand (1768 – 1848). Gautier, a
French poet, novelist, and journalist, was a fervent traveler, and his works on Spain, Italy, Egypt, Russia, and Algeria are esteemed as some of the finest in 19th-century travel literature. Known for his personal and impassioned writing style, Gautier expressed his love for history, art, and culture. Chateaubriand, a founding figure of French romanticism, held sway over writers worldwide. A writer, diplomat, historian, and politician, his posthumous autobiographical work, “Memoirs from Beyond the Tomb,” documented his experiences in exotic locales and pivotal historical events. In the selected travel notes, both writers infuse the descriptions of the Piraeus lions with a lyricism that elevates their stature to that of Greek deities.
Ernest Hemingway (1899 –1961), the renowned Nobel Prize-winning novelist, first arrived in Italy at the age of 18 to serve on the Italian Front as an ambulance driver during WWI. In 1948, he fell in love with Venice, specifically with 19-year-old Adriana Ivancich, and stayed there for several months. Their platonic relationship inspired
Hemingway to pen a novel exploring the theme of death through a flashback of the life experiences of Colonel Cantwell, a 50- year-old US Army officer, while duck hunting near Venice at the close of World War II. Crafted in Hemingway’s distinctive spare style, where substance lies beneath the surface of the plot, the selected excerpt takes readers on a joyful stroll through Venice’s renowned fish market, prompting reflection on life amid prawns, eels, and shrimps, whose tentacles resemble the mustache of a Japanese admiral.
A model of the Great Galley -a ground-breaking type of boat that became a symbol of Venetian inventiveness: thanks to this boat Venetians were the first in history to use standardised, interchangeable parts, as well as a moving assembly-line. Thanks to this streamlined process, the Arsenale could build vessels in one single day, when other cities needed months for the same production.
Citinotes
chapter 1
Saint Mark for sale
They resolved to seize the relic of the Evangelist, regardless of the Copts’ acceptance. Moreover, they were armed, defying the prohibition imposed by Muslim authorities on merchants.
[…] Thodoald was discovered seated on the container concealing St. Mark’s remains […]
He turned to Rustico saying: “Go fetch St. Mark and deceive those religious onlookers.”
His interest suddenly heightened: “Are you planning to transport the mummy in this cart?
– We’ll place it in the basket.
– The Arab customs officers will surely inspect it at the entrance to the quays.
– Do you have a solution?
Thodoald rose with difficulty […] and summoned the two tribunes to follow him behind the chapel. He explained:
“’We regularly transport piglets for sale, my friend Rustico. […] During inspection, the Muslims will promptly close a basket containing a meat that their customs deem unclean. This is the case for dogs or pork. Concealing the Saint’s mummy beneath chops, blood sausages, and pig heads will deter even the most meticulous customs officer.”
[The next day, at the port of Alexandria]
In the midst of the harbor’s bazaar, crowds swarmed the quays around the ships, making it challenging for the cart to progress. Bon and Rustico were cautious to avoid any incident: toppling a basket of fruit or colliding with a peddler could have dire consequences. They needed to blend into the crowd and arouse no suspicion. On their way to the port, they encountered only one patrol, which didn’t inquire about their cargo. […]
“Let’s test if Thodoald’s ruse is effective”, said Marino Bon. […]
Indeed, parcels larger than the mules carrying them, porters with carrying poles, and various vehicles were successively inspected by a group of Arab customs officers at the quays’ entrance. […] Rustico, Bon, and their sailors exchanged glances, attempting to conceal their fear of a thorough search by the emirs’ officials who might not ultimately be deterred by the sight of pork bellies. These meticulous inspectors enjoyed unfurling pieces of fabric, dipping their hands into baskets, checking the shape of bags, extracting handfuls of pepper that vanished swiftly beneath their black coats without eliciting the slightest protest. They held omnipotent authority.
[…] Rustico overheard snippets of the soldiers’ conversation. ‘They are searching for a criminal from Alexandria,’ he said to Marino Bon, crouching on the ground.
Yemenis and regular customs officers cast a suspicious glance at Rustico as he presented himself before them. He was a stranger, but he didn’t seem to match the description of the criminal.
The Arabs surrounded the cart:
– What are you carrying?
– Supplies for the crossing.
– On which boat?
– ‘Saint Theodore’s’.
– Are you Venetians?
The Yemeni officer scrutinized the wicker basket and uttered some ambiguous words: “In here, you could hide a man. “Indeed,” replied Rustico.
Marino Bon wondered, “if the soldiers discover the bones, how are they going to react? By contempt? By fury? Can a bunch of piglet heads keep them at a distance?’ He signaled to his men to act nonchalant, to give the impression that this was all part of a routine. […] The fate of Rialto hung in the balance, dependent on three pink piglets.
If they spot the relics, but still don’t manage to grasp what they really are, Marino plans to attempt bribery. […]
The Yemeni officer, hands on his waist, stared at the basket closed by palm fiber cords. He barked a phrase to one of his soldiers, who sliced the closure with his curved dagger. Marino restrained one of his sailors from intervening and jeopardizing everything. The Venetians couldn’t bear to look at each other any longer. The soldier took three steps back, allowing his officer the satisfaction of tipping up the lid and inspecting the contents. What if Thodoald overestimated their aversion to pork?
Thodoald did not exaggerate. Rustico could hardly suppress a smile at the horrified expression of the officer when he stuck his nose in the snout of a headless piglet: ‘Kanzir! Kanzir! Impure!’ bawled the Yemeni, shielding his eyes with a piece of his cape. ‘Kanzir!’ echoed the soldiers and customs officers, widening a circle around the cart bearing this impious flesh.
“Can we pass?” asked Marino Bon.
The officer, keeping his back turned, gestured to the quays, indicating the way forward.
Patrick Rambaud
Quand Dieu apprenait le dessin, Grasset, 2018
The Fondaco dei Tedeschi (meaning “warehouse of the Germans”) is a historic building in Venice, overlooking the Grand Canal next to the Rialto Bridge. It served as the restricted living quarters of German merchants, one of the city’s most powerful colonies of traders. For over 6 centuries, the fondaco was an important trading centre for goods passing from the East towards the Alps. Today it is rehabilitated into a luxury department store.
chapter 2
The route to India
An ancient Venetian saying claims, ‘Europe is the head of the universe, Italy is the face of Europe, and Venice is the eye of Italy.’ It was from this symbolic eye that, at the close of the 15th century, the Doge, adorned with his horned-like bonnet, oversaw his maritime empire. Venice, unlike Byzantium or the Phoenicians, boasted an unparalleled thalassocracy. The city bore witness to a diverse procession of peoples—Slavs, Saracens, Egyptians, Asians, and Africans—all subdued and bowing before the might of Venice.” […]
Wherever one ventured, the Venetian golden ducat held sway. Even in the present day, remnants of Murano glass beams can be discovered in the oldest tombs of Sarawak. Venetian mirrors aroused envy in countless harems, and it was through their silvering that the East, accustomed to metallic mirrors until then, encountered the true reflection of its own face for the first time.
The early Venetians achieved remarkable feats, starting from their flight from the Barbarians and refuge in the marshes of Torcello in 452. They gained control of the Adriatic from Ravenna, thwarted the Huns, and contained the Normans of Sicily. Subsequently, the First Crusade provided the opportunity to claim the Phoenician legacy of Tyre. Meanwhile, the Fourth Crusade, directed more against the Byzantine navy than the ‘faithless’ ones (i.e., the Muslims), facilitated the cleansing of the Eastern Mediterranean, with Rhodes and Dalmatia becoming vital supports for their fleet. By the close of the 13th century, the Genoese were ousted from the East, Cyprus was secured from the Turks, and the Nautical Statutes of 1172 were implemented in a civilized world that had hitherto only known the maritime code of Byzantium.
Against the backdrop of the largest slave trade in history, Venice traded Tartars, Bulgarians, Russians, Egyptians, and Ethiopians to Europe without distinction.
Marco Polo is credited as the first to establish connections with China. Over the span of the 5th to the 15th centuries, the Serenissima saw a remarkable growth in population, expanding from 200 to 200,000 inhabitants. A thousand millionaire patricians, possessing the world’s largest fortunes, resided in the Gothic palaces lining the Grand Canal, embellished with serpentine discs and Asian porphyry.
Throughout the Eastern routes, the world collided with Venetian monopolies, standing tall like aftercastles.
This dominance was built upon a fleet unparalleled in the entire world. In 1122, Venice dispatched an impressive 300 ships against Egypt, boasting a total fleet of 3,000 vessels manned by 38,000 sailors. The Adriatic teemed with a variety of vessels—feluccas, galleons, brigantines, galiotes, and triremes—a direct inheritance from Rome through Byzantium. Venice began to grasp its pivotal role in the world, evolving into the port of Central Europe and facilitating the transport of spices and silk to the Holy Empire and Flanders. During Charlemagne’s era, the noble class exclusively adorned itself in Dalmatic and Byzantine coats supplied by Venice. The galleys of England, the Berbers, Beirut, Alexandria, and Aiguemortes shared anchorages on the same muddy bottoms where the white ships of Lloyd Triestino anchor today.
Suddenly, in 1498, the Doge convened the Council of Six to deliver a dispatch from the Venetian Ambassador in Lisbon: the Portuguese were preparing to dispatch 13 caravels to India through a newly charted route west of Africa. Lorenzo Bernardo, the ambassador of the Serenissima Republic to the Sultan, confirmed this news.
The day Vasco de Gama, navigating around the Cape of Good Hope, discovered a more efficient and safer route to Calicut or Hormuz, he single-handedly enabled Western Europe to wrest control of the Indian trade route from Eastern Europe. In doing so, he also seized the prosperous life from Eastern Europe and deprived the region of a trading kingdom that had been paid for in gold and blood over six centuries.
Weakened by continuous conflicts with the Genoese and forced to retreat before the Turks, Venice entered a prolonged period of decline that persisted until 1797 when Bonaparte encountered little more than a decaying relic.
Venice attempted to rally the Egyptian Sudan against the mutually detrimental new power dynamics in vain. Despite efforts, she failed to influence the Pope, incite the Turks, motivate the Marseillais, or stir up countries across the Eastern Mediterranean basin. Unsuccessfully, she even offered galleons to Spain to counter England, anticipating that the latter would succeed the Portuguese. The glory days of the Republic were numbered, and the Atlantic was poised to triumph over the Mediterranean in the race to India, a dominance that would endure for almost four centuries.
Paul Morand
Sur la route des Indes, Plon, 1936
A glassblowing artist of the “Schiavon Art Team” in Murano, Venice. Massimiliano Schiavon, the company’s owner, comes from six generations of artists dedicated to the craft of glass. The three photos above are taken from the factory’s mindblowing showroom and workshop.
chapter 3
The Guardians Lions
After my exploration of the prisons, I proceeded to the Arsenal. No monarchy, no matter how formidable in power, has presented a nautical repository of comparable magnitude.
An expansive area, enclosed by crenellated walls, houses four docks for large ships, shipyards for their construction, and facilities encompassing all aspects of the military and merchant navy: from the rope-yard to the gun-foundry […], from rooms dedicated to ancient armor captured in Constantinople, Cyprus, the Morea, and Lepanto to those showcasing modern armor. […]
The two colossal lions from the Piræus keep the gate of the dock from which a frigate is about to issue for a world which Athens did not know and which was discovered by the genius of modern Italy.
[…] All this animation is over: the emptiness of seven-eighths of the arsenal, the extinct furnaces, the boilers gnawed with rust, the rope-walks without wheels, the dock-yards without shipwrights bear witness to the same death that has smitten the palaces. Instead of the throng of carpenters, sail-makers, seamen, caulkers, ship’s lads, one sees a few galley-slaves dragging their fetters: two of them were eating off the breech of a gun; at that iron table they could at least dream of liberty.
François-René de Chateaubriand
Mémoires d’outre-tombe, 1833
Translated by Alexander Teixeira de Mattos in François-René de Chateaubriand, The Memoirs of François René Vicomte de Chateaubriand sometime Ambassador, Fremantle & Co, 1902
It is early, and before heading to Fusine, we will have time to explore the Arsenal, albeit not from within, as the entrance is now prohibited. What captivates us more than the sight of gun beams and ships under construction is the opportunity to admire the lions of Piraeus, trophies acquired by Morosini in the Peloponnesian War.
Trophies of a defeat, yet retaining their haughty and superb appearance, they evoke memories of the ancient Minerva.
This Arsenal, with its vast reservoirs and covered construction sites—rumored to witness the building, rigging, equipping, and launching of a galley to sea all in a single day—brought to mind, through its desolate neglect, the Arsenal of Cartagena in Spain. Once bustling during the time of the invincible Armada, it was from there that fleets set forth to conquer Corfu, Zante, Cyprus, Athens, and all the rich and beautiful islands of the Archipelago. In those days, Venice still embodied its grandeur, and the lion of Saint Mark, now mournful and defamed, possessed claws and teeth akin to the most formidable heraldic monsters.
Italia, Hachette, 1855
The Venetian Arsenal is a complex of former shipyards and armories clustered together in the city of Venice. Owned by the state, the Arsenal was responsible for the bulk of the Venetian republic’s naval power from the late Middle Ages to the early modern period. It was “one of the earliest large-scale industrial enterprises in history”. Its main gate features two lion statues which were removed from the Greek harbor of Piraeus by the Venetian naval commander Francesco Morosini in 1687 as plunder taken in the Great Turkish War against the Ottoman Empire.
chapter 4
The fish market
A market is the closest thing to a good museum like the Prado or as the Accademia is now, the Colonel thought.
He took a shortcut and was at the fish market.
In the market, spread on the slippery stone floor, or in their baskets, or their rope-handled boxes, were the heavy, grey-green lobsters with their magenta overtones that presaged their death in boiling water. They have all been captured by treachery, the Colonel thought, and their claws are pegged.
There were also small soles and there were a few albacore and bonito. These last, the Colonel thought, looked like boat-tailed bullets, dignified in death and with the huge eye of the pelagic fish.
They were not made to be caught except for their voraciousness. The poor sole exists, in shallow water, to feed man. But these other roving bullets, in their great bands, live in blue water and travel through all oceans and all seas.
“A nickel for your thoughts now”, he thought. Let’s see what else they have.
There were many eels, alive and no longer confident in their eeldom. There were fine prawns that could make a scampi brochetto spitted and broiled on a rapier-like instrument that could be used as a Brooklyn ice-pick. There were medium-sized shrimps, grey and opalescent, awaiting their turn, too, for the boiling water and their immortality, to have their shucked carcasses float out easily on an ebb tide on the Grand Canal.
The speedy shrimp, the Colonel thought, with tentacles longer than the moustaches of that old Japanese admiral, comes here now to die for our benefit. “Oh Christian shrimp”, he thought, “master of retreat, and with your wonderful intelligence service in those two light whips, why did they not teach you about nets and that lights are dangerous?”
“Must have been some slip-up”, he thought.
Now he looked at the many small crustaceans, the razor-edge clams you only should eat raw if you had your typhoid shots up to date, and all the small delectables.
He went past these, stopping to ask one seller where his clams came from. They came from a good place, without sewerage, and the Colonel asked to have six opened. He drank the juice and cut the clam out, cutting close against the shell with the curved knife the man handed him. The man had handed him the knife because he knew from experience the Colonel cut closer to the shell than he had been taught to cut.
The Colonel paid him the pittance that they cost, which must have been much greater than the pittance those received who caught them, and he thought, now I must see the stream and canal fishes and get back to the hotel.
Ernest Hemingway
Across the river and into the trees, Charles Scribner’s Sons, 1950
Venice for food and shopping lovers
Explore historical markets, shops and other landmarks reminiscent of Venice’s past as a trade superpower.
