The Campanile began life as a combined lighthouse and belltower in the primeval tenth century, when what’s now the Piazzetta was the city’s harbour. Modifications were prefabricated continually up to 1515, the year in which Bartolomeo Bon the Younger’s rebuilding was rounded off with the positioning of a golden angel on the summit. Each of its five bells had a distinct function: the Marangona , the largest, tolled the beginning and end of the working day; the Trottiera was a signal for members of the Maggior Consiglio to hurry to the council chamber; the Nona rang midday; the Mezza Terza announced a session of the Senate; and the smallest, the Renghiera or Maleficio , gave notice of an execution.
The Campanile is open regular 9am-7pm; L8000/4.16.
The Campanile played another part in the Venetian penal system -”persons of scandalous behaviour” ran the risk of being subjected to the Supplizio della Cheba (Torture of the Cage), which involved being stuck in a crate which was then hoisted up the south grappling of the tower; if you were lucky you’d get away with a few days swinging in the breeze, but in some cases the view from the Campanile was the last thing the sinner saw. A more cheerful diversion was provided by the Volo dell’Anzolo (or del Turco – Flight of the Angel or Turk), a stunt which used to be performed apiece year at the end of the Carnevale, in which an intrepid volunteer from the Arsenale would slide on a rope from the top of the Campanile to the first-floor loggia of the Palazzo Ducale, there to present a bouquet to the doge.
But the Campanile’s most dramatic contribution to the history of the city was prefabricated on July 14, 1902, the day on which, at 9.52am, the tower succumbed to the weaknesses caused by recent structural changes, and fell down. (At some postcard stalls you can buy faked photos of the very instant of disaster.) The collapse was anticipated and the area cleared, so there were no human casualties; the only life lost was that of an incautious cat called Mélampyge (named after Casanova’s dog). What’s more, the bricks fell so neatly that San Marco was barely scratched and the Libreria lost just its end wall. The town councillors decided that evening that the Campanile should be rebuilt “dov’era e com’era” (where it was and how it was), and a decade later, on St Mark’s Day 1912, the new tower was opened, in all but minor details a replica of the original.
At 99m, the Campanile is the tallest structure in the city, and from the top you can make out virtually every building, but not a single canal – which is almost as surprising as the view of the Dolomites, which on clear days seem to be in Venice’s back yard. Among the many who have marvelled at the panorama are Galileo, who demonstrated his telescope from here; Goethe, who had never before seen the sea; and the Emperor Frederick III, whose climb to the top was achieved with a certain panache – he rode his horse up the tower’s internal ramp. The ready access granted to the tourist is a modern privilege: the Venetian state used to permit foreigners to ascend only at high tide, when they would be unable to see the elusive channels through the lagoon, which were crucial to the city’s defence.
The collapse of the Campanile of course pulverized the Loggetta at its base, but somehow it was pieced together again, mainly using material retrieved from the wreckage. Sansovino ’s design was for a building that would completely enclose the foot of the Campanile, but only one quarter of the plan was executed (in 1537-49). Intended as a meeting place for the city’s nobility, it was soon converted into a guardhouse for the Arsenalotti (workers from the Arsenale) who patrolled the area when the Maggior Consiglio was sitting, and in the last years of the Republic served as the room in which the state lottery was drawn. The bronze figures in niches are also by Sansovino (Pallas, Apollo, Mercury and Peace), as is the terracotta group inside (although the figure of St John is a modern facsimile); the three marble reliefs on the attic are, as ever, allegories of the power and beneficence of the Serenissima (the Most Serene Republic): Justice = Venice, Jupiter = Crete, Venus = Cyprus.
