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Famous Horses of St. Mark )
Return Home in Triumph! Driven From Venice by Fear of Austrian Bombs, Ancient Steeds Are Restored to Their Place ? By Eugene S. Bagger THE Horses of St. Mark are back in their old place. Re? moved, for fear of destruc? tion by Austrian bombs, on May 27, 1915, to Rome, the price? less' groQP ?* tW four bronze horses was carried back to Venice in a veritable procession of triumph on November 12 last and replaced, amid the enthusiastic ovations of the Venetian people, on its old pedestal just above the portal of the Basilica of San Marco. The ceremony was described as "the greatest event in Venice since the beginning of the war." So the peregrinations of the fa? mous horses have come to an end for the present, at any rate. For these horses seem to display a strange wanderlust?an inclination to change their habitat every few centuries or so. They have been described as the oldest and, at the same time, the most traveled ani? mals in the world. How old are they? Nobody knows for certain. Their Story reaches back into some uncharted 1 tracts of Grasco-Roman antiquity. Legends and hypotheses concerning their origin there are aplenty; cer? tainty there is not. A diagram showing their wander? ings in the course of ages would ,in a way, trace the progress of Euro? pean civilization. Modeled by some Hellenic sculptor?one version at? tributes them to Lysippus, one of the greatest of the great?the team may have been originally hitched to the golden chariot bearing the statue of a winner in the great Olympic games. Tradition follows the group to imperial Rome, where it may have adorned the triumphal arch of a victorious Caesar?Nero; perhaps. The next stage in the career oi the four bronze horses finds them ir the Hippodrome of Constantinople whereto they had been transplant?e by Constantine the Great on th' transfer of the imperial capital t< Byzantium. There they survived, fo: eight centuries, alike the ravages o; plunder-mad barbarians and the re ? ligious fury of iconoclasts?survive! even the decree of Theodosius order ing the destruction of all pagan mon uments and symbols. Napoleon's Loot In the beginning of the thirteentl century they were carried by th victorious Latin conquerors of Con stantinople to Venice, where the; remained until 1797. In that yea Napoleon included them in his copi ous Italian loot sent back to Paris Eighteen years afterward they wer re?tered to Venice, there to stay un molested for exactly 100 years. B _ tween May, 1915, and Novembei 1918, once again, after a lapse c 1,500 years, their abode was Rome and now they are back in the plac< which, after all, can be considere as their proper home?the city c St. Mark, Venice. Prom classic Hellas to Romi thence to Byzantium, Venice, Par! ?the line of travel described by tb four bronze horses symbolizes, in sense, the shifting of the Europea center of gravity, political an cultural. Their flight westwai daring the war before the ravag< of the Teuton is, perhaps, equal] symbolic; and their replacement he aids that once more Latin civiliz? tion is safe from the wrath of-nortl ?rn barbarians. However, as regards the earlie bistory of the group, scholar opinion is still unsettled. That hsd been brought to Venice fro Constantinople in the course of tl *>-called Latin crusade early in tl i200s seems assured; but nothii certain is known about its previo; >i?tory. A? a matter of fact, i first authentic mention occurs A D. 1364. On June 4 of th y?*r, Petrarch, the j^et, stand? ?a the right of the Doge of Ven!? ?H ? platform overlooking the piaz of St, Mark, watched the triumpha procession commemorating the gr? Venetian victory over the tebeJlio Cretan*. Describing the event, t P?t mention? "among those pr< *nt" a? it were, the "wonderful g sors? of St. Mark," so Mf-like th th?y "almost neighed and stamp ?*Hh their feet." According to Venetian tradith *j*Wi has an inherent probabiii *?? four homes were brought to 1 *% of the Lagoon? from Constan '??Pie by the Duke Enrico Dand ?*?* mr l2?4' with oth*r no** I ***?***? captured on the con?u |**t?? ?Mtern capital by the La m&mttte. For th* neat %mn ( f five years, however, the horses seem ; to have been forgotten; in 1229 the Duke Pietro Ziani placed them above the portal of St. Mark's Basilica. The early hypothesis that the horses were of Roman origin is as? sailed by A. Dali' Acqua Giusti, the Italian historian. He attributes this tradition to the ignorance of Vene? tian chroniclers, who associated the horses with the triumphal arch of some Roman emperor, probably Nero. Dall' Acqua Giusti points out that .the quadriga, or triumphal chariot drawn by four horses, was by no means a Roman invention, but had been copied from a Greek model. It is actually identical with the vehicle 'of tile winner in the Olympic chariot races held every five years. According to the testimony of antique coins, such statues of a team of four horses had existed in various places in ancient Greece. Thus, Pliny speaks of one, executed by Lysippus and standing in the Isle of Rhodes. Papias, the Byzantine historian, mentions another grout of four brorize horses brought) fron; Chios to Constantinople by the Em peror Theodosius, who reigned ir the years 373-395. It is likely thai the Horses of St. Mark are actuallj identical with the latter group, ir which the theory of Roman origir and the transfer to Byzantium bj Constantine the Great may be dis carded. The story quoted by Sa nudo, the Venetian writer, that thi horses hail from Persia is, of course a pure myth. Symbol of 'the Republic Ever since their arrival at Venict the horses have been regarded a ? ? ' symbolic of the destiny of St. Mark's Republic. Thus in the year 1379, when Venice was besieged from the land side by the Paduans and from ; the sea by the Genoese, the leader1 of the latter, Pietro Doria, said to a Venetian envoy asking for a traced "Upon my honor, you shall not have peace until we have bridled those unbridled horses of yours that stand on the palace of your evan? gelist, St. Mark." Notwithstanding the threat of the Genoese admiral, the horses of St. Mark remained unbridled for an? other four centuries; but, strangely, the prophecy implied in Doria's words came true in 1797. In that year the ancient Venetian Republic was destroyed by Napoleon, then First Consul of France; and the event was marked by the "bridling," as it were, of the four bronze horses, which were taken by the conqueror and carried away to his distant capital. On conquering the city, Napoleon demanded, among other things, the cession of twenty paintings, mostly by Titian and Veronese, adorning the ducal palace and the churches of Venice. The city .council, however, petitioned him to content himself with sixteen paintings and offered to substitute for the other four pictures the four horses of St. Mark. The latter, it was said, will "be in Paris a monu? ment worthy of the achievements of these days, so famous in the annals of the world." Napoleon accepted the compro? mise, and the horsee were taken. Napoleon planned to hitch the four bronze horses in front of a quadri? ga which was to hold his own statue, crowned with a wreath of laurel, after the manner of the Roman C?sars. In 1805 the team was actu? ally placed upon a triumphal arch erected in front of the imperial resi? dence in Paris. A distich on the side of the arch, commemorating the pro Hoisting one of the horses to its old place above the Port?t of St. Mark's cession of 1798, said, referring to the horses: "Greece ceded them, Rome has lost them, Their fate changed twice, It will change no more." This prophecy was not fulfilled. In 1815, after the fall of Napoleon, the horses were removed from their Paris location at the order of Em? peror Francis of Austria and car? ried back to Venice, which then formed the most highly prized gem among the Hapsburg possessions. It is a strange irony of fate that the same Austrians should have restored the Horses of St. Mark to their an? cient home, whose barbarian meth ods of warfare necessitated, just one hundred years later, the removal of the priceless statues to the com? parative safety of Rome. During the late war, when raids of the Austro-German airmen men? aced the art treasures of Venice, the horses were first covered up with sandbags, like the rest of the public monuments. However, it was thought that the great weight of the group might, in case of an ex? plosion, imperil the facade of St. Mark's itself, and so the horses were hoisted down and taken to Rome] where they found accommodation in the Baths of Diocletian. There they remained- until last November. [Shakespeare's Ouija Board Shows Bard Has Gone Back ?Three Hundred Years of Idle? ness Have Dulled the Imag? ination of Master Poet Bv Hevwood Broun T' HERE used to be a theory that when a writer died he stopped working. Even if he i t did not attain heaven ox I ! thereabouts, he at least had the sat-1 i isfaction of being done with the ! I task of setting down words on paper. ' Unfortunately, the disquieting belief i is now advanced by. some that for I the writing man death means no ? more than the substitution of the ouija board for the typewriter. William Shakespeare, for in : stance, who was well regarded in his day and even more highly thought of a few, centuries later, might be thought to have gained all the repu? tation a man could wish. Seem? ingly the itch for expression is not among the things which pass with death, for there has just been issued, a thick 480-page book containing some two or three hundred poems and short prose selections written by Shakespeare's spirit and published under the title of "Shakespeare's Revelations." Sarah Taylor Shatford, the earth ? ly sponsor for the book, announces that it required more than a year for her to take the dictation of Shakespeare's spirit and two years inore to prove to the world that the revelation was genuine. She makes the publication now, she states, be causo she has succeeded in convinc? ing "men of the cloth, ilaymen, scien? tific men, researchers, Jews, Catho? lics and Protestants." However, all this seems puny proof indeed beside the guarantee of the spirit of Shakespeare himself, who is quoted at the beginning as certifying that the book is "dictated exactly as herein found; No illitera? cies, no obliterations chargeable to the medium. My hand and seal here on.?W. S. in spirit." It is, perhaps, not to be wondered at that Shakespeare has turned out such a profuse flood of words for the new book, because it represents his first attempt at writing from the time of his death until the morning of December 19, 1916, when he dashed off three short poems called "Peace After War," "Heaven Is a Part of Love" and "War No More" on Miss Shatford's ouija board. Three days later he began speaking to the medium directly and there was no further need of the board. Moreover, Shakespeare's spirit takes occasion in his foreword to state that the book has been transmitted entirely "through my treasured humble clairaudient. Sarah ; the only medium through whom 1, as spirit, have worked at words." , Rusty With Idleness This was dictated as recently as August 14, 1919. '. One might suppose that after his -,-g-. ?o _ A Gran THERE is a fat old horse at Bellevue Hospital that spends its waking hours be? tween the shafts of a cov? ered vehicle resembling a grocer's cart, measuring with his ambling hoofs the few hundred yards that separate the time-stained old build? ing from the new and larger red brick pathological addition that con? tains the city morgue. As - the horse clump, clump, clumps under the blackened arch that is tunneled through the old building, it is the wagon of the dead that he draws. In his count? less journeys over the same path he has learned to move with the great? est economy of effort, and as he is the only horse on the premises where there are many automobile ambulances there is none to share his oats and hay. These conditions have conspired to make him fat. No doubt he has a driver but no one ever pays any attention to him. Must Learn New Tricks ? But now there are plans afoot that will change the orderly routine of the horse. The old building is to be torn down. He will have to travel a new path for the rest of his days. He may mourn the change, but he will mourn alone. To remove the old building will be like discarding an ill-smelling, un? fashionable garment reeking with unpleasant memories and donning fresh, clean clothes of modern cut, for McKim, Mead & White have drawn the plans for the new hos? pital that is to replace this worn out, unsanitary and hideous build? ing, the /Cornerstone of which was laid by Mayor De Witt Clinton July 29, 181 i. The design for that building was drawn by Alderman Hoghland in a competition for a $100 prize offered by the Common Council. This was 153 years after the hospKal was first organized, But it was not until 1816 that the exist? ing structure was dedicated. Opened in 1658 Jacob Varrcnger, surgeon to the Dutch West India Company, sug? gested it first He said that New Amsterdam, with its growing popu? lation of 1,000, should see to it that "a proper place" be arranged for the reception of- the sick where they could be taken care of by a faithful person who would assist them bodily with -food, flr? and light, "t?ldi?tt to der Bellen pay for it out of their rations and wages." \ Accordingly, on the fifth day be? fore Christmas, 1658, a six-bed in? firmary was opened, with Surgeon Varrenger in charge. Assisting him as matron^ at a salary of 100 florins a year, was Hilletje Wilbruch, the wife of Cadet Tobias Wilbruch. It may be believed that Varrenger was happy, too, for he had said in urging the establishment of such an institution that he was "sorry to learn that sick people suffered much through cold, inconveniences and the dirtiness of the people who had taken the poor fellows (the soldiers) into their homes, where bad smells and filth counteracted all health-pro? ducing effects of the medicaments given by me; death has been the re ? suit in many cases, and more will follow." As the City Grew The best available records fix the site of Surgeon Varrenger's hos? pital in Broad Street, just north of Beaver. The institution remained there until 1680, when it was sold and a better building provided. There is no exact record of the next j location, but it is believed that dux*- j me Is to ] ing the period between 1680 and 1697 the hospital occupied a building a little south of Warren Street and east of Broadway, for in the latter year Mayor de Peyster sought a larger house near the old site. In 1736 the hospital occupied a plot of ground now covered by the City Hall, the surrounding territory being known as the "Vineyard." In those days men injured in encounters with hostije Indians were sometimes treated at the hospital, as well as fever sufferers. The institution was then called "the Workhouse, Hospital and House of Correction." The contrac? tor who built it, John Roomer, re? ceived $400 for the job and several gallons of rum for "the men who laid the beams and raised the roof." Dr. John Van Buren then became the medical officer. He received 100 pounds annually, but had to provide his own medicines. When the British prepared to oc? cupy New York during the Revolu? tionary War patients and inmates of the hospital were transferred to Poughkeepsie. Seven years elapsed before they, were brought back to New York. Several additions were built during that period and a cen? sus of the institution showed that Elise on Si isoon after Lord Cornwallis sailed away there were 300 inmates, about lone-third of them women. j Raised by Lottery In 1796 the institution housed 600 persons, counting sick, homeless and malefactors. A public lottery was held by authorization of the Legis? lature, and with the $10,000 thus j realized a new group of structures was erected on the north side of Chambers Street. These served J fairly well for sixteen years, until j 1810, when the almshouse and bride j well were crowded with the over- j | flow patients from the hospital, for by that time New York had grown j to the dignity of a population of J 195,000. i In the rural district north of the ; i city was a farm fronting on the j East River that in 1772 had been! I acquired by Robert Leake, who ! ? named it Belle Vue. The sailing ship Antoinette ar- j j rived at a Whitehall Street dock on i I May 29, 1795. Lying aft on the deck under an awning made of old sail- ? cloth were two of the crew, suffering ! agonies with yellow fever. Not de? siring to risk spreading the infec- ? i tion in the city, the health officer of ! ! the port, Richard Bayley, ordered I them taken to a pest house that had j j been established at Belle Vue, | j which had been acquired by Mr. j ! Livingston. The place was also I te of Old, known to New Yorkers as Kip's farm, after one of its early owners. The fever epidemic spread and the rough board cabin at Belle Vue be? came crowded with yellow fever pa? tients, many of Whom died soon after they were delivered, with scant cere? mony, at the pest house. Belle Vue was unable to house all the victims, and a new pest house was estaba fished on Bedloe's Island, from which Liberty now enlightens the world. Seven hundred yellow fever deaths occurred during the summer of 1796, and the entire city was quarantined. Then the epidemic subsided until 1798, when it broke out with re- ? newed fury. By that time Belle Vue j was accepted as an isolation hospi- j tal. From July until November i about 2,100 deaths occurred from ; yellow fever and 1,000 others died j from the after effects of the disease. Officially Opened in 1816 Then after a few years the city bought from the Kip estate for $22, 494 the half dozen acres on which Bellevue now stands. The corner? stone was laid in 1811. The War of I 1812 was fought, and so the building \ wasn't completed until 1816. On Api-il 29 of that year the Rev. John ' Stanford officiated in the new chapel, j and Bellevue was declared open. The grounds then extended from i The iVftf BeUevu%irom the plans drawn by McKimt Mead & White Building the East River to Second Avenue, from Twenty-fifth Street to Twenty eighth Street. The main building was of gneiss rock, 325 by 55 feet, I with two wings, four stories high, j and in the center a cupola. The : north wing was for white and the j south wing for colored patients. ; There were cells for the unruly and apartments for maternity cases. There were sixty rooms, 30 by 24 feet, and forty-one of these cham? bers were for paupers. Cost Oidy $421,109 The cost of the structure and j ground totaled $421,109. The in- j stitution was inclosed by a ten-foot wall. And that is the Bellevue that' is to be'torn down. In 1819 and 1832 there were other epidemics, first of yellow fever and second of Asiatic cholera. This scourge killed 600 out of 2,000 sufferers brought to the hospital and in other parts of the city 1,500 died. There is no one alive who can adequately describe conditions in j the hospital in those days. Old Dr. Stephen Smith, who spent the best days of his life work? ing at Bellevue, used to tell about the method of performing surgi? cal operations there in the days before gold had been discovered in California. There** were no anes? thetics, so the surgeon used to round up four or five stout laborers to hold the patient on the operating table. He said the screams and struggles of the unfortunate pa? tients were terrible'. The nurses in. those days were "drunks" who had been sent to Bellevue from the city courts. In 1848 the almshouse part of Bellevue was removed to Blackwell's Island, where the bride? well also had been established. Dr. Smith has said that even as late as 1851 the nurses at Bellevue Hos? pital were "ten day drunks" from ; Blackwell's Island. Trained nurses were just beginning to be heard ! of then. Most Modem in World But from then on the history of ' Bellevue is a less gruesome story. : And now it is going to be the most ' modern and the largest hospital in the world. The new Bellevue Hospital will have 2,000 beds, 600 more than the structure it replaces. The specifi? cations are now being prepared, according to Dr. George O'Hanlon, superintendent at Bellevue, who has been there for the last ten years. He said a few days ago that con? tracts would be advertised and let for the new building in about two months. The new Bellevue group will cost $6,000,000, as against the j $421,109 that was paid for the j old building and the ground it atejnds on._._ j long rest" Shakespeare would come trooping back to the business of i writing with renewed vigor. Such is (not the case. He has acquired a florid style of writing which we hope is not to bo attributed to the influ? ence of heaven. It may be that he finds the sound of the harps distract? ing. There is no getting away from the fact that he has gone off tremen? dously. It may very well be that no vacation should.be more than a cen? tury long. After a hundred years of idleness the lingers grow stiff. The Shakespeare of to-day has become rusty. And yet we should hesitate to say that he has no future. Hard work and application may do much for the man. There are distinct possibilities in him. If only he can get away from the habit of imitating Rudyard Kipling, as so many young poets do, there is hope for him. If Miss Sarah Taylor Shatford will be kind enough to transmit to him a suggestion we advise him earnestly to look up Keats and take a few les? sons in verse forms. We are as? suming, of course, that he _tnd Keats are in the same bourne. But if Keats is not available, surely there must be some reasonably good poet at hand in one of the many man? sions, or pits, as the case may be, who would be glad to give Shake? speare a lift just for old time's sake. Nor can it be said that the prose of Shakespeare has profited during his long years of inaction. His style is now a curious mixture of obsolete and modern words. He has read, apparently, some of the novel? ists of to-day, but not the best ones. If heaven is the place of his abode it may be, as many rebel artists have asserted, that good taste is not among the virtues. Here, for in I stance, is a paragraph from Shakes peare's foreword in which he extols the medium who has made his work possible : "To pettifoggers who declaim and spume at length a mess of balder dash to befuddle the seeker of truth, proclaiming no advance where worlds divide, I say, who spell through her these lines, avaunt, dissembler ?you who know the truth and lie to j shield your muggy brain cells under a cloak of science?you fool not any but yourself. Your work must live and you must live and see its puer? ility from spirit who evade the heart wrung cries and pleadings of a torn world bereaved at loss which may bo gain were all facts known we could make known had we the power to shield, protect, find such wires as we employ who write hereon through ear in tune, applied as taught by me, the shade of Shakespeare, whom the world has never derided, but loved and called a poet up to now." Wit Less Graceful His wit we find less graceful than it was in the old days on earth be? fore he wrote: "We carry here the man we were. Our longings, likes, some hatreds. as of yore. And I who wove ray rhyme am he, the same, except for my soul's tears. To all who yearn to know if still man lives without his bones, 1 say, COMPLETE. He dies never. His ashes arc the rem? nants of his suit. I have my whis? kers still." ( As for his verse, the evidences of the influence of the modern maga? zines are all too numerous. Con? sider, for instance, the poem called i "Sex Attraction," which begins: j The flowers and the bees have their own way to love, ! And the whole of creation is full of ! the same; j So why should a man be ashamed of his mode Of supplying the thrill in love's name? I He displays now a fondness for garish titles, as in "Keep in Your 'Heart a Little Place," "Oh, What , Is More Dear Than the Hands Thar iWe Love?" "We Have Come From ! the Playhouse, God's Woman and I," "Into?Out of?the Vast Be? yond," and "Oh?Oh-Oh!" He has also tried hard to re? move the reproach that he is old fashioned, and we find among his poems such topical bits as "Hail, Bernhardt! La Vie de France!" "Great Men: To His Countryman, the Hon. Arthur J. Balfour, Brit? ish War Commissioner," and "Un? der the Red, White and Blue" (song), "To the American Red Cross" (donation). William Shakespeare must be a very old man by now. Also, there is no getting around the fact that he probably wrote "Hamlet" and "Othello" and "Roir.ro and Juliet" and a number of other excellent playa. Toward such a. man the critic has naturally the kindliest of feeling, and yet we would be n-cal citrant to our trust if we did not say in connection with this, the latest offering of Shakespeare, that death seems to have been a very bad thing tor him. In his own words of arl^ca.Uer aud happier ?century, "Oh, Hamlet, what ? fall? ing off was there!"