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198 34 A Great Day in War-Shattered Venice. OCTOBER 2 Another great day—the events of which I cannot here attempt to describe fully, for the very wealth of my adventures and experiences. But such things cannot be forgotten! I went to Venice with Lieutenant Wanger and an Italian, Cicerone, by the early train, after much ado about military and naval passes; and having emerged from the station upon the Grand Canal, Wanger insisted upon treating us to roast squash that a street vendor had there for sale. Think of being introduced to Venice with cold roast squash in one’s mouth! We were not even allowed to wander or admire but were hurried into the church next to the station, the roof of which had been blown in by an Austrian bomb, and then taken in a launch, which came especially for us, to Consul Benajah Harvey Carroll’s home, where we met Mrs. Carroll and the famous Cat. They were just preparing to leave Venice for Naples and were ready packed to move. Carroll, before he came here, was a Baptist minister in Texas and has become the most popular man in Venice! He speaks Italian with a broad southern slur, loves everyone, and is able to make a speech that will draw tears from every Italian eye. We went around with him while he bade good-bye to the Admiral and the Cardinal and other high functionaries. It was a thing to see. In the waiting spaces Hare and I devoted seven minutes, by accurate count, to the Doge’s palace, ten to St. Mark’s, and a little more to the Arsenal! Never was Venice done more promptly. We lunched at Manin’s—one of the best lunches I have had in Europe— ordering filet of fish with mushrooms, which proved to be, as we suspected from a wise wink given us by the agreeable proprietor, a very fine roast, wild A Great Day in War-Shattered Venice | 199 duck. Mowrer160 and his wife, Lilian, joined us afterwards. In the afternoon, the Italian commandant of the naval flying squadron sent us down to the naval flying base south of Venice in his launch and we saw a fine lot of young flying men and their splendid machines. They go out every night to bomb Polo, Trieste, or other Austrian cities. Tea with Mowrer and wife on our return and then a run for the train, where we found a great crowd of Venetian notables gathered to say good-bye to Carroll, the Consul. The Grand Canal was full of their launches and gondolas , and I shall never forget the sight of the Carrolls with the Cat in a basket getting aboard the train, nor the applause that followed him, nor the vision of Carroll himself, his red head bare to the skies and his round, rosy face glowing with emotion, standing on the steps and waving a pontifical hand over the gathered nobility of Venice and shouting in broad Texian-Italian “Vive l’Italia”—“vive le Ventia!” If we had Consuls like Carroll everywhere America would be impossibly popular. They presented him with a marvelous old copy of a picture by Bellini and made him commander of this and associate of that— and I don’t know how many medals they gave him. On the train, Mrs. Carroll watched the Cat and Carroll talked with us. At the only stop between Venice and Padua otherVenetians crowded on to say good-bye to Carroll, and I saw his red face and rosy head bending over the hand of a Countess. I saw him kiss her hand with all the grace of Sir Walter Raleigh. It was delightful to be alive such a moment. I wish I could have had more time at Venice. Half the people are gone and great piles of sandbags and masonry walls surround many of the art treasures. One can hardly see St. Mark’s at all, for the piles of sandbags, and yet we found a service going on in the chapel. Much damage has been done everywhere by Austrian bombs, but the spirit of the people is good. 160. Edgar A. Mowrer (1892–1977) was a foreign correspondent for the Chicago Daily News. ...

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