In the early days of the republic, women followed the Byzantine custom, which was to be veiled outside the house and remain in a male free-space much of the time. This is not still followed in 1220, but there are remnant practices which we can use for plot hooks. The altanes, for example, which we are investing as magical spaces, are a type of male-free space that is now desegregated in theory, but not in daily custom. Similarly the romantic overtures which were developed at this time persist, even as the strictures which made them necessary loosen.
Over to Edgecum Stanley:
Courtship
In public women were veiled,—matrons in black, maidens in white,—except upon festivals, which happily, for the sake of dear Prince Cupid, were frequent enough, when they were allowed to appear at church, on the Piazza, and in barca or gondola uncovered,—these were lovers’ opportunities !
When a youth had become familiar with the form and carriage of a girl, and was taken therewith, he was wont to haunt the neighbourhood of her father’s house, in order to get a good look at her features and expression when she came out. If the opinion he had formed was confirmed then he was accustomed of a night to stand beneath the iron-barred window of his innamorata, and there breathe out his love ditty, or twang amorously the strings of his guitar. If the girl responded to the youth’s ecstasy, she was permitted to flash a light through the open shutter. The repetition of this signal was an intimation that the wooer might address himself to her father.
The father’s consent was regarded as the first step of the betrothal, and then the happy young couple were required to await the festal day of good San Marco, for the public acknowledgement of the suit. Liberty was meanwhile allowed for interviews and negotiations…with respect to equality of family and amount of dowry, etc. The girl dressed simply in white was permitted to receive visits from her lover and his young companions.
Upon the eve of the festival when many friends were assembled, serious and gay, the bridegroom-elect took his bride’s hand in his and slipped upon her finger a ring, penge they called it, — as a pledge of his honourable intentions. The girl immediately withdrew with her mother, whilst the guests were feasted. Nobody went to bed that night, for there was much to be done in preparation for the morrow’s nuptials. The bride had to be bathed and her hair plaited in two great coils, her dress and her ornaments had to be arranged, and finishing touches put to the festal decorations of the house.
Attendance at early Mass was de rigueur. and then the bride, covered with a lace or fine net veil knelt to receive her father’s blessing, and at the same time she had placed in her hands by her two sponsors—the most estimable and influential of her father’s acquaintances—a casket or purse, in which was deposited her dowry.
These receptacles were called arcella and were objects of considerable value from an artistic point of view. If caskets they were of embossed silver, or carved wood, or painted by hand, and if they took the form of purses they were of the richest material, very beautifully embroidered, and often enough ornamented with pearls and precious stones.
A procession was formed of gaily-decorated gondolas with the wedding guests—the bride’s contained herself, and her father with her sponsors, and bore silken streamers of blue and white with two captive white doves at the prow ; and all made for the island cathedral of San Pietro di Castello. The bride bearing her arcella suspended from her neck by a blue silk ribbon knelt by her father’s side before the Bishop, and then the groom, ushered by his witnesses, took his place at her right hand offering the wedding-ring for the episcopal benediction.
Removing the penge,—which he slipped upon his own finger,—he replaced it with the golden hoop of matrimony. Lighted candles were placed in the hands of the couple, whilst the Bishop blessed their union. An offering in their behalf is made by the bridegroom’s next friend, and the religious ceremony ended with the singing of a marriage ode. A merry, happy party betook themselves one and all to the fleet of gala gondolas, scattering on their way sweetmeats and small current coins, among the bystanders. A banquet with dancing and singing filled the afternoon and, at dark, the minstrel band led the newly-married pair to the bridegroom’s brilliantly lighted house.
The best man held a position of importance, he it was who found the beverages for the guests, toasted the nuptial couple, and gave drink and money all round. Early in the morning following the marriage he repaired to the nuptial chamber, and knocking loudly at the door, offered the happy spouse two fresh-laid eggs,—often enough stained and painted exquisitely,—and a casket of aromatic pastilles—tokens of good wishes for marital felicity.
The bride’s girl friends too laid beside the door little wicker-work baskets beautifully trimmed with silk and decorated with fresh flowers, and full of delicious sweetmeats and fresh fruit—emblematic again of what married life should ever be. Such were some of the pretty wedding observances in old Venice.
The Boccola
One of the prettiest of the many charming customs, which illustrate so delightfully the ever fascinating story of Venice,—”the Venus City of the Adriatic,”—was the annual presentation of the boccola—the rose nosegay of San Marco. For its origin we must hie us back to a very distant century —the ninth. Doge Orso Badoero, grandson of the ” Grand” Doge Agnello Partecipazio, had a lovely only daughter, Maria was her name in baptism, but, by reason of the ardent flashes of her brilliant jet-black eyes she was known as Vulcana—” Vulcana of the black eyes !
” Then one day, there came from far Provence a handsome troubadour with his light guitar. He was called Tancred—a child of chance as it appears ; and he sang outside the dark-eyed beauty’s iron-barred window the doughty deeds of knightly prowess..
Prince Cupid set to work…and began to shoot his love-dipped arrows up and down, till he had transfixed both Vulcana and Tancredo. Alas ! the maiden knew full well her father would never listen to the plea of a simple singing youth, and so she wept and sighed, and sighed and wept!
”Go, gentle minstrel,” she cried, “tarry not, seek the Court of the King of France, and clothe thyself with the glory of martial renown, I, thy Maria, will wait for thee !”
With a tender embrace, and the maiden’s thin gauze scarf for guerdon tied round his arm, the troubadour set off to fight the Moors. Seasons came and seasons went and beauteous Maria Vulcana upon the altana of her father’s palace scanned in vain the wide lagune for signs of the warrior’s return. ” Will Tancredo never come back ?” she asked herself, and she wept and yearned for him. At last rumours of bold adventure and the names of many goodly knights were banded from tongue to tongue. The dreaded Moors had been vanquished, and the hero of the fights was a youthful soldier of fortune one Tancredo of Provence !
Well-a-day, an embassy presently arrived in Venice from great Charlemagne, its leader was Sir Roland the Invincible. He sought here and there for Maria Badoero the Doge’s weeping daughter, but she never showed herself—her heart was with Tancredo—she cared for none beside. At length they met and Roland bending over her, sighing, said, ” Lady fair, I kiss thy hand for brave Tancredo, and bid thee weep no more for him, he died in these arms of mine breathing out thy name,— see he bid me with his last words give thee this red rosebud, which he had plucked for thee, saying, ‘ Bid her pray for me always.’
Maria was silent, she paled, her heart gave no more than one big throb, as she placed the pledge of her Tancredo’s love between her breasts, and then she laid her down and died!
This is the ” Legend of the Boccola.”
The day that heart-broken Maria Vulcana breathed her last was the name-day of Saint Mark the Evangelist, 25th April. Thereafter every lovelorn lad in the islets of the lagunes offered to the girl he loved best a freshly gathered red rosebud as a fragrant pledge of his devotions. The innamorate were accustomed to place the sweet tokens in their open bosoms, as did the beauteous but unhappy maiden of old times, and proudly wear it all that livelong day. Sometimes to be sure, the girl rejected her admirer’s tender gift, but she who could show no rosebud in her bosom suffered mighty heartburns all the same, and her girl companions and the young men of her acquaintance looked askance at her.
At the sounding of the curfew all were safe of course indoors, and then the simple offering, withered as it was, was taken lovingly between both the maiden’s hands, caressed affectionately, and placed in the most secret hiding-place she had. It might be a long, or it might be a little, while before her parents acknowledged the successful suitor ; but that frail blossom of early summer never lost its fragrance, and many a dewdrop of a tear fell upon the faded petals, whilst the loved one waited impatiently for the next Festa delle Marie.
Festa Delle Marie
The name of Pietro Candiano III. has come down to us in gracious valiant guise. It was the Feast of the Purification in the year 944, and the “Brides of Venice ” were kneeling before the Bishop in the church of San Pietro di Castello. The Doge and Dogaressa, and their household were assisting at the ceremony, when, suddenly wild figures of daring buccaneers from Trieste dashed into the sacred building. Robbery not rape was their primary intention, for the maidens’ arcelle were well worth the risk the robbers ran. The girls held tightly to their dowries, and so they were borne off bodily by their captors, arcelle and all!
Recovering from their consternation the menfolk of the congregation and the hangers-on outside laid hands on weapons, tools and anything, and were swiftly on the heels of the ravishers. Luckily the barcas of the Guild of Marriage-chest makers were moored in the canal, and so available for use. Doge Pietro, divesting himself of his State mantle, and girding on his sword, headed the pursuers. Calling on Heaven for vengeance he boarded the foremost boat and bade every armed man to follow : it was the barca of Andrea de’ Cappelli of the fondamento of Santa Maria Formosa, — the quarter of the makers of hats. He was one of the bridegrooms-elect, and, mad with rage, he and his companions swore to be avenged and to bring back their brides to Venice.
That was a stern chase to be sure, the robbers rowed their hardest, and the lovers of the ” Brides ” bent to their sweeps with all their wind and thew. Not till the pirates had crossed the Caorle lagune did Andrea de’ Cappelli’s boat grapple with the quarry. Then it was a fight hand-to-hand, pole-to-pole,— but at last, Andrea, leaping into the batello of the pirate chief struck the villain down, and gathered to his breast his fainting bedraggled bride.
Bearing her light form under his left arm he neatly beheaded his enemy and, holding aloft the gory trophy, regained his boat. Victory,—as by well-bound convention,—crowned virtue, and back to Venice rowed swiftly the proud flotilla—the happy maidens waving aloft their bridal veils in token of their deliverance. Landing at the campo of Santa Maria Formosa all entered the sacred edifice, hard by, where the clergy sang ” Te Deum. ” The assembly broke up hilariously to spend the evening in universal merriment.
Coming out of the church the Master of the Guild of Hat-Makers requested a favour of the Doge,—by whose side walked the motherly figure of the Dogaressa, her face radiant with smiles,—namely that an annual commemoration of the gallant rescue of the ” Brides of Venice ” should be instituted whereat the Doge and Dogaressa should preside. Dandolo gives an amusing account of the interview :
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“But if it rains ? ” asked Doge Candiano.”
“Why, we will give you hats to cover you !”
“And if we come hungry ?”
“Well then you shall have the finest catch of fish and the sweetest basket of fruit.”
“But if we are thirsty too ?”
“We will refresh you with the best vintage we possess!”
And so it came to pass. Every year the Doge and Dogaressa, with all their households and the members of the Grand Council, paid a ceremonial visit to Santa Maria Formosa. Each dignitarv received a brand-new straw hat,—richlv gilt and decorated with flowers. a flask of finest Malvaggia—ruddy and rare, and a silver fish with a golden orange apiece. This is the origin of the Festa delle Marie.
Stanley’s not very clear about this, but the celebration which follows is described relatively simply. 12 poor women, engaged to be married, are each assigned a rich family, who provides them a dowry and costume. They are feted for a time, and it is considered good luck to see one of the twelve “Marias” at a party. There’s a lot of competition to have the most widely regarded Maria as a protege of the family and, since her dowry may be far larger than previously expected, there’s some attempt to supplant each lady’s betrothed. This is a Background Virtue, providing wealth and social contacts, but it”s only available to women of high Presence.
Games From Folktales 