Venice in the Sixteenth Century

Throughout the early modern period, Venice was a major destination for travellers. The city was a symbol of prosperity, culture, art and splendour. For pilgrims, it was the gateway to the Holy Land. Ships left regularly for ports along the Levantine coast, and devout travellers could not only buy passage but also book complete tours to the holy sites. Venice’s markets were renowned for their wide selection of rare and exotic goods. But the main attraction was the city itself — built on water and accessible only by boat, with its canals and gondolas, markets, splendid churches and busy harbour. The wealth the Venetian Republic had amassed was spent on construction, frescoes, paintings and sculptures by celebrated Renaissance artists. The Doge’s Palace and St. Mark’s Basilica still offer a window into this time.

But beneath the splendour, the Venetian Republic was in a slow decline. In the late Middle Ages, the city held territorial possessions across the eastern Mediterranean and dominated maritime trade routes to the Levant, Egypt, the Black Sea and Constantinople. The Republic had developed a system of public-private partnership. The city’s shipyard, the Arsenal, produced large trade galleys that were rented to private investors for the annual convoy east. The oarsmen of those galleys were not slaves but free men and could be counted on to defend their ships. Each year, these public convoys set out for ports in the east, bringing back expensive and highly sought-after commodities like silk, incense and spices. Timber, iron, manufactured goods, slaves and weapons were exported. Often, to the consternation, criticism and even hostility of the Pope and other Christian rulers, Venetian merchants made no distinction between customers in the east, whether fellow Christians or Muslims, such as the Mamluk rulers of Egypt. Profit was the driving motivation and source of the Republic’s power.

After the convoys returned, the shareholders and the state split the profits. In addition, many private vessels sailed the Mediterranean, increasing the volume of goods available in the city and filling the Republic’s coffers with customs duties.²

But in the late fifteenth and sixteenth centuries, the Republic came under pressure. The Portuguese discovery of a sea route around Africa threatened Venice’s monopoly in the spice trade. Until then, the spice trade had followed the land route. Cloves, pepper, nutmeg, cinnamon and other spices arrived from the east by caravan at ports in Syria, Palestine and Egypt, where Venetian merchants picked them up. News of the discovery prompted Venice to secretly cooperate with Muslim Egypt to drive out Portuguese competition. Egypt, which at the time controlled maritime trade along the northern coast of the Indian Ocean, also saw its dominant position and profits threatened by the newcomers. But the Portuguese could not be dislodged, not least because Mamluk Egypt was in terminal decline and under pressure from another eastern power, the Ottoman Empire.

The Ottomans were also a cause for concern in Venice. Their aggressive expansion along the eastern Mediterranean coast and into Europe put pressure on the Venetian colonies. One after another, Venice lost territory to the Ottomans. After centuries of aggressive trade and expansion, the Republic was forced to consolidate its losses and protect what it still held.

Furthermore, Venice faced trouble at home. The so-called Italian Wars (1494-1559) were a succession of military conflicts for domination of the peninsula between Habsburg Spain and France. They began when France invaded Italy in 1494. But the conflict’s roots lay in Italy’s fragmented political landscape. For a long time, the Italian city-states, republics and feudal domains had fought each other in shifting constellations. While the Peace of Lodi (1454) had brought a temporary reprieve, animosities remained. The French invasion was motivated by a claim to the throne of the Kingdom of Naples and was heavily encouraged by the Duke of Milan, Ludovico Sforza. After sacking Naples (1495), an alliance between Italian territories, Spain and the Holy Roman Empire formed to drive the French out. But the war descended into a protracted conflict with shifting allegiances as old rivalries among the Italians resurfaced.

As a result of pressure from the Ottomans and the Italian War, the Republic’s trade routes were disrupted and the city’s income fell. The Venetians had to focus their resources on the conflicts at home. The annual trade convoys could no longer be financed, and trade became an entirely private enterprise. However, private ships were easier prey for pirates and privateers, now active in larger numbers and often Ottoman-sponsored.

Failing to capitalise on the victory meant that, while the Ottomans were temporarily stopped, the alliance made no tangible gains. Within a few years, the Ottomans had rebuilt their fleet and pressure on the Venetian eastern border continued unmitigated. While travelling along the coast of Italy, Samuel Kiechel witnessed Ottoman privateers harassing coastal towns and communities unhindered.³

However, Venice’s decline was slow, and among its impressive buildings, busy markets, unmatched art and bustling canals, travellers would barely notice it. Samuel Kiechel was fascinated by the city and, while typically sparse in his descriptions, detailed some of his observations.

The Doge’s Palace

The Doge’s Palace was the centre of power of the Venetian Republic. The doge (from Latin: ‘dux’, meaning leader) was the formal head of state of the Venetian Republic. While the position was always held by a member of the Venetian aristocracy, the title was not hereditary. Venetian doges were elected and held the title for life. They did not hold sole authority in the Republic. Kiechel mentioned the Senate and the Council of Ten, but there were also the Great Council, the Minor Council and the Council of Forty. All these assemblies met in rooms in the palace.

The current palace was constructed in the fourteenth century but was rebuilt and expanded in the centuries that followed. It stands in the south-eastern corner of St. Mark’s Square. The palace’s northern wing connects to St. Mark’s Basilica, and its southern wing faces St. Mark’s Basin and the harbour.

Samuel Kiechel noted that access to the palace was restricted, although it is difficult to say whether this meant the whole building was off-limits or just the first and second floors, where the Doge’s apartments and the various offices and assembly halls were. The ground floor of the palace consisted mostly of a large courtyard with arcades along its sides. According to Kiechel, security around the palace seemed somewhat lax, as our traveller managed to hide among the servants of a noblewoman to get a tour of the place.

All the rooms Kiechel mentioned were on the second floor of the palace, in the eastern wing facing the Rio di Palazzo canal. First, the visitor was impressed by the Senate Hall. The lifelike paintings set in gold along its walls and ceiling were new, as a fire had destroyed the room in 1574. As Samuel noted, reconstruction work was still ongoing and would not be finished until 1595. The room beside the Senate Hall, Kiechel mentioned briefly, was the Council Chamber of the Minor Council. It too had been damaged by the fire, but restoration work had already been completed.⁵

The chamber of the Council of Ten lies between the Senate Hall and the armoury, and the visitor must pass through it on the way to the armoury. The items held in the Venetian armoury seemed to have been of particular interest to our traveller. He mentioned a huge crystal lantern, a dagger, and a dress of ‘Indian’ origin. I could not find any details about those items. The dress and dagger might have been from India, or, more likely, from America, as native people were regularly brought back by Spanish ships as novelties to show around European courts or in an attempt to Christianise.

Furthermore, Samuel Kiechel was shown a chastity belt. Somewhat amusingly, he manoeuvres around describing it, apologising and mangling some Italian words in his writing. Literally, he wrote: “a screwed work of steel and iron which a man can screw in front of the s.v. [salva venia = with permission] vulva when il marito mistrusts sua dona”.⁶

Not untypical for his time, Kiechel would not mention anything related to sexual matters directly. There is another instance later in the journey when he will mix Italian words into his descriptions as well. As a German Lutheran, he was not comfortable writing about them despite his curiosity.

The mechanical booby-trap our traveller mentioned might be the so-called Devil’s Box (Scatola del Diavolo), still in the armoury, or at least a similar item. It is a sixteenth-century device containing four pistol barrels rigged to discharge when the box is opened. However, I found no mention of the noblemen or of a feud involving such a device.

Finally, the visitors were shown the Doge’s private chapel. The chapel is beside the senate hall, on the opposite end of the wing from the armoury. It appears that Samuel Kiechel mixed up the sequence of the rooms he saw when he later wrote down his experiences.

As mentioned above, Venice was a fascinating city for travellers, associated with all kinds of wonders. In some ways, it still is, and the Doge’s Palace, with all its decorations and artwork, remains as impressive as it was in the sixteenth century. Nothing could have prepared Samuel for the sights, noises, smells, the busy canals and streets, and the astonishing buildings rising out of the water. It must have been quite overwhelming for our traveller from central Germany.

But curiosity wins out. After having smuggled himself into the palace, he will do the same to visit the Venetian Treasure Chamber in St. Mark’s Basilica.