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| Outside the Caffè Florian - Venice Carnival 2018 - Photo: Cat Bauer |
(Venice, Italy) Together with Marco Polo, Giacomo Casanova is Venice's most famous hometown boy. In addition to his notorious reputation as a lover, Casanova was also a prolific and gifted author, as well as a spy, cleric, violinist, alchemist, Freemason, financier, gambler, traveler, adventurer, and prison escapee.
Casanova met everybody who was anybody in nearly all of Europe, including Catherine the Great and Benjamin Franklin. Even today, during Carnival, the wild, wonderful, seductive spirit of Casanova permeates the air. You can still sip a hot chocolate in Caffè Florian with your lover, just as Casanova did about 275 years ago.
Creatum: Civitas Ludes is the theme of the 2018 Carnival. Chosen by Marco Maccapani, the artistic director, it sort of translates to "Creativity: City of Games."
Now, what Venice considers games might not be everyone's definition. It can include games of seduction, gambling, pranks, and mischief -- even exotic animals. And there are masks involved.
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| Playing cards printed by Antonio Moro (1841) |
Venice State ArchiveThe other day I went over to the Archivio di Stato to see what their offerings were for Civitas Ludes. The Venice State Archive is one of the largest in Italy, and preserves more than 1000 years of Venetian history covering about 80km (50 miles) of shelves. It is enormous, and located inside the former convent of Santa Maria dei Frari.
The Archive has dug up some intriguing official documents regarding the behavior of its citizens -- it is as if the FBI, the CIA and the US State Department released their files for public consumption under the Freedom of Information Act.
In 1310, Venice created the Council of Ten to overcome the revolt against the Doge and the Republic by Bajamonte Tiepolo. The Council, composed of ten patrician magistrates, were elected to one-year terms by the Great Council. They had the power to impose punishments upon nobles, including banishment and the death penalty. It was supposed to be a temporary body, but became a permanent fixture by 1334.
Over the centuries, its powers grew greater until it had almost unlimited authority over all governmental affairs, including Venice's diplomatic and intelligence services. The ten individuals became Venice's spy chiefs -- and Venice had a vast network of spies. (Centuries later, Casanova would become one of them.)
In 1539, an additional, even smaller unit was created: the State Inquisitors -- three super-secret judges
who wore masks and had as much authority as the entire Council of Ten. They could independently try and convict those accused of treason -- and sentence people to exile, or even death. Needless to say, being called in front of the Council of Ten or the State Inquisitors was a terrifying prospect.
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| Council of Ten prohibiting all lotteries whatsoever under penalty of 500 ducats |
On display at the State Archive is a document dated 1776 from the State Inquisitors by a confidant named Camillo Pasini, who reported on the gambling habits of the nobility. Another is dated 1580 from the Heresy Magistrates regarding the card-playing manner of the renowned courtesan, Victoria Franco.
But the most interesting document is one dated 1754 from the State Inquisitors about Casanova, who is called a card player and a "hyperbolate." Casanova had returned to Venice the year before from his own Grand Tour, and was under surveillance due to his wild escapades, and association with Freemasonry and secret rites.
The next year, on July 26, 1755, at age 30, Casanova would be arrested for affront to religion and common decency, and thrown into the Piombi prison in Palazzo Ducale, from which he would make a daring escape. He romped throughout Europe, from one escapade to another. After 18 years of exile, the State Inquisitors of La Serenissima allowed Casanova to return to Venice in September 1774 — when he became a spy for Venice.
We know a lot about Casanova because he wrote a terrific erotic memoir called,
The Story of my Life, which you can read for free in English as an ebook thanks to Project Gutenberg. Because Casanova is such a clever writer, I thought my readers might enjoy an excerpt from the man himself.
Casanova describes an adventure that he and his gang-of-eight had during Carnival 1745 -- ten years before his imprisonment -- when they snatched a pretty young woman away from her husband and his two friends and seduced her at Do Spade (near Rialto, where you can still have a drink to this very day) -- much to her enjoyment. She did file a complaint with the Council of Ten -- not because of the orgy, to which, according to the complaint, she had willingly succumbed -- but because she was frightened about the welfare of her husband.
Here's Casanova, in his own words, translated into English by Arthur Machen:
Excerpt from A Story of My Life
We were seven, and sometimes eight, because, being much attached to my
brother Francois, I gave him a share now and then in our nocturnal orgies.
But at last fear put a stop to our criminal jokes, which in those days I
used to call only the frolics of young men. This is the amusing adventure
which closed our exploits.
In every one of the seventy-two parishes of the city of Venice, there is a
large public-house called ‘magazzino’. It remains open all night, and wine
is retailed there at a cheaper price than in all the other drinking
houses.
People can likewise eat in the ‘magazzino’, but they must obtain
what they want from the pork butcher near by, who has the exclusive sale
of eatables, and likewise keeps his shop open throughout the night. The
pork butcher is usually a very poor cook, but as he is cheap, poor people
are willingly satisfied with him, and these resorts are considered very
useful to the lower class.
The nobility, the merchants, even workmen in
good circumstances, are never seen in the ‘magazzino’, for cleanliness is
not exactly worshipped in such places. Yet there are a few private rooms
which contain a table surrounded with benches, in which a respectable
family or a few friends can enjoy themselves in a decent way.
It was during the Carnival of 1745, after midnight; we were, all the eight
of us, rambling about together with our masks on, in quest of some new
sort of mischief to amuse us, and we went into the magazzino of the parish
of Santa Croce to get something to drink. We found the public room
empty, but in one of the private chambers we discovered three men quietly
conversing with a young and pretty woman, and enjoying their wine.
Our leader, a noble Venetian belonging to the Balbi family, said to us, “It
would be a good joke to carry off those three blockheads, and to keep the
pretty woman in our possession.”
He immediately explained his plan, and
under cover of our masks we entered their room, Balbi at the head of us.
Our sudden appearance rather surprised the good people, but you may fancy
their astonishment when they heard Balbi say to them: “Under penalty of
death, and by order of the Council of Ten, I command you to follow us
immediately, without making the slightest noise; as to you, my good woman,
you need not be frightened, you will be escorted to your house.”
When he
had finished his speech, two of us got hold of the woman to take her where
our leader had arranged beforehand, and the others seized the three poor
fellows, who were trembling all over, and had not the slightest idea of
opposing any resistance.
The waiter of the magazzino came to be paid, and our leader gave him what
was due, enjoining silence under penalty of death. We took our three
prisoners to a large boat. Balbi went to the stern, ordered the boatman to
stand at the bow, and told him that he need not enquire where we were
going, that he would steer himself whichever way he thought fit. Not one
of us knew where Balbi wanted to take the three poor devils.
He sails all along the canal, gets out of it, takes several turnings, and
in a quarter of an hour, we reach San Giorgio where Balbi lands our
prisoners, who are delighted to find themselves at liberty. After this,
the boatman is ordered to take us to Saint Genevieve, where we land, after
paying for the boat.
We proceed at once to Palombo Square, where my brother and another of our
band were waiting for us with our lovely prisoner, who was crying.
“Do not weep, my beauty,” says Balbi to her, “we will not hurt you. We
intend only to take some refreshment at the Rialto, and then we will take
you home in safety.”
“Where is my husband?”
“Never fear; you shall see him again to-morrow.”
Comforted by that promise, and as gentle as a lamb, she follows us to Do Spade. We ordered a good fire in a private room, and, everything we
wanted to eat and to drink having been brought in, we send the waiter
away, and remain alone.
We take off our masks, and the sight of eight
young, healthy faces seems to please the beauty we had so unceremoniously
carried off. We soon manage to reconcile her to her fate by the gallantry
of our proceedings; encouraged by a good supper and by the stimulus of
wine, prepared by our compliments and by a few kisses, she realizes what
is in store for her, and does not seem to have any unconquerable
objection.
Our leader, as a matter of right, claims the privilege of
opening the ball; and by dint of sweet words he overcomes the very natural
repugnance she feels at consummating the sacrifice in so numerous company.
She, doubtless, thinks the offering agreeable, for, when I present myself
as the priest appointed to sacrifice a second time to the god of love, she
receives me almost with gratitude, and she cannot conceal her joy when she
finds out that she is destined to make us all happy.
My brother Francois
alone exempted himself from paying the tribute, saying that he was ill,
the only excuse which could render his refusal valid, for we had
established as a law that every member of our society was bound to do
whatever was done by the others.
After that fine exploit, we put on our masks, and, the bill being paid,
escorted the happy victim to San Giobbe, where she lived, and did not leave
her till we had seen her safe in her house, and the street door closed.
My readers may imagine whether we felt inclined to laugh when the charming
creature bade us good night, thanking us all with perfect good faith!
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| From the Archives 1754: State Inquisitors re: Giacomo Casanova |
Two days afterwards, our nocturnal orgy began to be talked of. The young
woman’s husband was a weaver by trade, and so were his two friends. They
joined together to address a complaint to the Council of Ten.
The
complaint was candidly written and contained nothing but the truth, but
the criminal portion of the truth was veiled by a circumstance which must
have brought a smile on the grave countenances of the judges, and highly
amused the public at large: the complaint setting forth that the eight
masked men had not rendered themselves guilty of any act disagreeable to
the wife.
It went on to say that the two men who had carried her off had
taken her to such a place, where they had, an hour later, been met by the
other six, and that they had all repaired to Do Spade, where they
had spent an hour in drinking. The said lady having been handsomely
entertained by the eight masked men, had been escorted to her house, where
she had been politely requested to excuse the joke perpetrated upon her
husband.
The three plaintiffs had not been able to leave the island of
San Giorgio until day-break, and the husband, on reaching his house, had
found his wife quietly asleep in her bed. She had informed him of all that
had happened; she complained of nothing but of the great fright she had
experienced on account of her husband, and on that count she entreated
justice and the punishment of the guilty parties.
That complaint was comic throughout, for the three rogues shewed
themselves very brave in writing, stating that they would certainly not
have given way so easily if the dread authority of the council had not
been put forth by the leader of the band.
The document produced three
different results; in the first place, it amused the town; in the second,
all the idlers of Venice went to San Giobbe to hear the account of the
adventure from the lips of the heroine herself, and she got many presents
from her numerous visitors; in the third place, the Council of Ten offered
a reward of five hundred ducats to any person giving such information as
would lead to the arrest of the perpetrators of the practical joke, even
if the informer belonged to the band, provided he was not the leader.
The offer of that reward would have made us tremble if our leader,
precisely the one who alone had no interest in turning informer, had not
been a patrician. The rank of Balbi quieted my anxiety at once, because I
knew that, even supposing one of us were vile enough to betray our secret
for the sake of the reward, the tribunal would have done nothing in order
not to implicate a patrician. There was no cowardly traitor amongst us,
although we were all poor; but fear had its effect, and our nocturnal
pranks were not renewed.
Three or four months afterwards the chevalier Nicolas Ferro, then one of
the inquisitors, astonished me greatly by telling me the whole story,
giving the names of all the actors. He did not tell me whether any one of
the band had betrayed the secret, and I did not care to know; but I could
clearly see the characteristic spirit of the aristocracy, for which the
‘solo mihi’ is the supreme law.
From The Story of My Life by Giacomo Casanova.
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| Venice Carnival 2018 - Photo: Cat Bauer |
Now it's Cat again. So the crime was not the orgy, which the woman had apparently enjoyed, but that she was caused unnecessary fright because she thought her husband had been arrested by the Council of Ten.
Luckily for Casanova and the gang the accusation took place during Carnevale, when conventions are flipped on their heads. Otherwise, I think the Council of Ten would not have been amused that they had been impersonated by Balbi, a young member of the aristocracy, or that Casanova went along for the ride.
Go to the official site for the program of
Carnevale di Venezia.
Ciao from Venezia,
Cat Bauer
Venetian Cat - The Venice Blog
