During this time bridges had been thrown over the ditch and engines set

to work at the wall which, with the assistance of some friends within,

was perforated sufficiently to allow of a man-at-arms leading his horse

through; the assailants were soon united and an obstinate conflict

followed with various success until broad daylight, when the Florentines

succeeded in overcoming all opposition, and then, driving their enemy

from the strong but as yet unfinished citadel, continued the plunder of

Pistoia for eight successive days. This event was known at Rome only

three days afterwards and raised Castruccio’s anger against Ludwig for

compelling him to leave Tuscany. He instantly set off with five hundred

horse and a thousand crossbowmen, and taking the Maremma road pushed

eagerly forward with only twelve followers; after some days, travelling

through a very dangerous country, Castruccio reached Pisa on the 9th of

February, where he soon contrived by intrigue and influence to acquire

supreme authority--a tolerable compensation for the loss of Pistoia.

CASTRUCCIO’S NEW CONQUEST; HIS SUDDEN DEATH

While Castruccio was steadying himself in the government of Pisa,

Sanguineto and the Florentines were in high disputation about putting

their recent conquests into a proper state of defence; the former

insisting that he had done his part in capturing the town, while

the citizens maintained that the duke was bound to discharge such

expenses from his salary. The altercation continued and Pistoia

remained unvictualled; but the Florentines, having gained some trifling

advantages, grew as careless and confident as if fortune had never

left their arms, while Castruccio hurried on his preparations for

recapturing the neglected place. Nevertheless the Pisans and even his

former adherents, now disliking his arbitrary sway, offered their city

to Ludwig; he, fearful of alienating Castruccio, referred them to the

empress, by whom it was accepted and her vicar immediately despatched to

take the reins of government. Castruccio was not thus to be despoiled; he

received the officer respectfully, but scoured the city with his horsemen

in the manner of the age as a mark of sovereignty; then dismissed the

imperial lieutenant loaded with gifts and caused himself to be elected

and proclaimed absolute lord of Pisa for two years.

Thus master of new and abundant resources, he lost no time in profiting

by the disputes at Florence, and immediately invested Pistoia with

a thousand men-at-arms and numerous infantry; the place was strong,

encompassed by a double ditch, and defended by Simone della Tosa with a

sufficient garrison besides many Guelfic citizens. There was a protecting

force at Prato only ten miles off and within sight of its signals, so

that if the town had been well provisioned it might have withstood all

Castruccio’s efforts until sickness compelled him to retreat. This chief,

who had remained at Pisa to complete his preparations, joined the army on

the 30th of May bringing strong reinforcements, and surrounded the town

with a palisaded ditch and lines of circumvallation. Here he resolved to

remain; nor did all the Florentine stratagems succeed in turning him from

his purpose, not even when they collected a formidable army of twenty-six

hundred men-at-arms and for three days successively defied him to battle,

which he constantly pretended to accept, while he only strengthened his

camp with additional trenches, fresh palisades, and wide-branching abbati.

Seeing no chance of provoking him, the allies changed their position, and

attacked the strongest point of his entrenchments with as little skill

as success, instead of cutting off his supplies by Serravalle, which he

would have been unable to prevent without a battle.

Sanguineto fell sick and had moreover quarrelled with some of the

confederate chiefs, so that he deemed it best to retire and make a

diversion elsewhere, leaving a strong convoy at Prato ready to succour

the place when a fair occasion offered. On the 28th of July, after

delivering another formal challenge which Castruccio was too sagacious to

accept, the confederated army drew off towards Prato and thence marched

in two divisions, one by Signa and the Gusciana to threaten Lucca, the

other by the left bank of the Arno, which destroyed Pontadera and carried

the rampart and Fosso Arnonico by storm. This was a great canal and

breastwork excavated and fortified with towers by the Pisans in 1176,

both as a national bulwark and an outlet for the superfluous waters of

the Arno, of which river some have supposed it to be one of the three

branches mentioned by Strabo. Thus was opened all the Pisan territory;

San Casciano and Sansavino soon fell and Pisa saw herself insulted at

her very gates with perfect impunity. Castruccio nevertheless remained

immovable; he calculated on starvation and the moral effect of seeing a

superior army retire without accomplishing anything, and accordingly on

the 3rd of August Pistoia surrendered to sixteen hundred men-at-arms and

the usual force of infantry, in face of an army of nearly double these

numbers.

Thus victorious he returned in triumph to Lucca, more powerful, more

dreaded, and more formidable than before; none of his important

enterprises ever failed and Italy had not beheld such a captain for

centuries. Lord of Pisa, Lucca, Lunigiana, and much of the eastern

Riviera of Genoa, and master of three hundred walled towns, he was either

courted or dreaded by every Italian prince from the emperor downwards.

But Florence was in terror at his very name; and Galeazzo Visconti the

once powerful lord of half Lombardy, who had been released by the emperor

in the preceding March at Castruccio’s intercession, now served under his

standard as a private individual. Visconti soon after expired at Pescia

from the effects of a fever engendered by the labours of the Pistoian

siege, and it was fatal to more than him: even Castruccio’s hour drew

near; for the same fever, the consequence of his personal fatigues, was

rapidly consuming him also. He feared the emperor’s resentment for the

usurpation of Pisa and would have made peace with Florence, but was too

much mistrusted and therefore failed. The malady increased; he informed

those about him that he was going to die and that his death would be the

signal for great revolutions; then, taking the necessary precautions to

insure his three sons the quiet succession of his three great cities, and

charging them to conceal his death until they were secure, he expired on

the 3rd of September, 1328, in the forty-seventh year of his age and the

twelfth of his rule over Lucca.

ESTIMATES OF CASTRUCCIO

Tegrimi[h] his biographer says that Castruccio was a cruel avenger of

his own wrongs; but as personal vengeance, never justifiable, assumes

in princes a more sharp and bitter aspect, it would be difficult to say

whether his conduct to his subjects merited the name of severity or

cruelty. With the soldiers he was universally popular, and in speaking

to them his eloquence and grace of manner and diction were wonderfully

adapted as well to his own dignity as to the mind and feelings of his

audience. He would often calm a tumultuous soldiery by simply calling

them sons, fathers, and brothers, and no army ever mutinied under his

command. He was first in every danger, first to seize the ladder and

mount the wall; first to swim across a river when swelled to a torrent;

first in every individual act of skill and courage, as he was first

in talent and command; and he gained the hearts of soldiers by his

agreeable familiarity with the meanest among them. His great reputation

as a warrior secured his ascendency in field and council; and such was

his soldiers’ confidence that often by his mere name and appearance the

fortune of battle was restored, fugitives were arrested, and the foe

defeated. His arrival alone was frequently sufficient to force an enemy

from fortified places or insure their immediate surrender. Whatever were

his individual sentiments he always consulted his council, composed of

the ablest men of Lucca, and more especially of those most learned in

history; but when it was a pure question of war he sought the opinion of

old military men well acquainted with the seat of intended hostilities.

Uneducated himself, he yet delighted in the company and conversation of

literary men; he improved and maintained the roads and bridges of his

state, had numerous spies, amongst them many women, in all parts of the

world, and was properly said to have the wings of an eagle.[f]

“This Castruccio,” says Villani,[d] “was in person tall, dexterous,

and handsome; finely made, not bulky, and of a fair complexion rather

inclining to paleness; his hair was light and straight and he bore a

very gracious aspect. He was a valorous and magnanimous tyrant, wise and

sagacious, of an anxious and laborious mind and possessing great military

talents; was extremely prudent in war and successful in his undertakings.

He was much feared and reverenced and in his time performed many great

and remarkable actions. He was a scourge to his fellow-citizens, to the

Pisans, the Pistoians, the Florentines, and all Tuscany, during the

fifteen (twelve?) years in which he held the sovereignty of Lucca. He was

very cruel in executing and torturing men, ungrateful for good offices

rendered to him in his necessities, partial to new people and vain of the

high station to which he had mounted, so that he believed himself lord of

Florence and king of Tuscany.”

Although the first warrior of his age, says Pignotti, it is doubted

whether he was greater in arms than in council; although he was born

and had lived in the midst of revolutions, he never shed blood unless

when necessity demanded it. He was one of those great men who, although

ignorant of letters himself, knew their value, and esteemed the learned.

An encourager of useful arts and manufactures, he generously rewarded

whoever introduced new ones. The monuments of the numerous works of

public utility which he undertook are still remaining, such as bridges,

roads, and fortresses.

He was certainly an extraordinary man, and had the theatre of his actions

been more extensive, and his means greater, he would have distinguished

himself equally with any of the celebrated men of antiquity. In the small

sphere, however, in which he was obliged to act, as a private individual,

he became one of the most powerful princes of Italy; since, at his death,

he possessed Lucca, Pisa, Pistoia, the Lunigiana, a great part of the

coast to the east of Genoa, and innumerable castles; and if he had lived

longer, in those times of revolution and the division of Italy into so

many small sovereignties, it may be conjectured that his greatness would

not have stopped here. Henry, his eldest son, was heir to his father’s

estates, but not to his father’s talents. The power of Lucca terminated

with Castruccio, since shortly afterwards we see this city offered for

sale, bought by a private citizen, and the cities and castles which were

once occupied by Castruccio retaken by the Florentines. Upon the arrival

of the emperor, the sovereignty of Pisa, and afterwards that of Lucca,

were taken away from his sons.[e]

DUKE OF CALABRIA DIES: LUDWIG RETIRES

[Sidenote: [1328-1329 A.D.]]

The death of the formidable and ambitious Castruccio saved Florence from

the greatest danger which she had yet incurred; and, to complete her good

fortune, the sovereign she had chosen to oppose Castruccio, the duke of

Calabria, died also about the same time. He had distinguished himself

only by his vices, his want of foresight, and his depredations. Ludwig

of Bavaria, too, ceased to be formidable; he completed his discredit by

his perfidy towards those who had been the most devoted to him. Salvestro

de’ Gatti, lord of Viterbo, had been the first Ghibelline chief to open

a fortress to him in the states of the church; Ludwig arrested him and

put him to the torture to force him to reveal the place where he had

concealed his treasure. The emperor had rendered himself odious and

ridiculous at Rome by the puerility of his proceedings against John XXII,

and his vain efforts to create a schism in the church. Having returned

to Tuscany, he deprived the children of Castruccio of the sovereignty of

Lucca, on the 16th of March, 1329, and sold it to one of their relatives

who, a month afterwards, was driven out by a troop of German mercenaries

which had abandoned the emperor to make war on their own account, that is

to say, to live by plunder. Ludwig passed the summer of 1329 in Lombardy.

Towards the end of the autumn he returned to Germany, carrying with him

the contempt and detestation of the Italians. He had betrayed all who had

trusted in him; and completely disorganised the Ghibelline party which

had relied on his support.

CAN’ GRANDE DELLA SCALA

[Illustration: A FLORENTINE NOBLEMAN OF THE FOURTEENTH CENTURY]

[Sidenote: [1314-1329 A.D.]]

That party had just lost another of their most distinguished chiefs, Can’

Grande della Scala. He was the grandson of the first Mastino, whom the

republic of Verona had chosen for master after the death of Ezzelino,

in 1260. Can’ Grande reigned in that city from 1312 to 1329, with a

splendour which no other prince in Italy equalled. Brave and fortunate

in war, and wise in council, he gained a reputation for generosity, and

even probity, to which few captains could pretend. Among the Lombard

princes, he was the first protector of literature and the arts. The

best poets, painters, and sculptors of Italy, Dante, to whom he offered

an asylum, as well as Uguccione dà Faggiuola, and many other exiles

illustrious in war or politics were assembled at his court. He aspired to

subdue the Veronese and Trevisan marches, or what has since been called

the Terra Firma of Venice. He took possession of Vicenza, and afterwards

maintained a long war against the republic of Padua, the most powerful

in the district, and that which had shown the most attachment to the

Guelf party and to liberty. But Padua gave way to all the excesses of

democracy; the people evinced such jealousy of all distinction, such

inconstancy in their choice, such presumption, that the imprudence of

the chiefs as well as of the mob drew down the greatest disasters on the

republic. The Paduans, repeatedly defeated by Can’ Grande della Scala

from 1314 to 1318, sought protection by vesting the power in a single

person; and fixed for that purpose on the noble house of Carrara, which

had long given leaders to the Guelf party.

The power vested in a single person soon extinguished all the courage and

virtue that remained; and on the 10th of September, 1328, Padua submitted

to Can’ Grande della Scala. The year following he attacked and took

Treviso, which surrendered on the 6th of July, 1329. He possessed himself

of Feltre and Cividale soon after. The whole province seemed subjugated

to his power; but the conqueror also was subdued. Attacked in his camp

with a mortal disease, he gave orders on entering Treviso that his couch

should be carried into the great church, in which, four days afterwards,

on the 22nd of July, 1329, he expired. He was not more than forty-one

years of age; Castruccio was forty-seven at his death. Galeazzo Visconti

died at about the same age, less than a year before.

JOHN OF BOHEMIA COMES TO ITALY

[Sidenote: [1329-1335 A.D.]]

The Ghibelline party, which had produced such great captains, thus saw

them all disappear at once in the middle of their careers. Passerino

de’ Bonacossi, tyrant of Mantua, who belonged to the same party, had

been assassinated on the 14th of August, 1328, by the Gonzagas, who

thus avenged an affront offered to the wife of one of them. They took

possession of the sovereignty of Mantua, and kept it in their family till

the eighteenth century. Of all the princes who had well received Ludwig

of Bavaria in Italy, the marquis d’Este was the only one who preserved

his power. He was lord of Ferrara; and even this prince, though a Guelf

by birth, was forced by the intrigues of the pope’s legate to join the

Ghibellines.

The Ghibelline party, which had been rendered so formidable by the

ability of its captains, was now completely disorganised. The Lombards

placed no confidence in those who remained, they had forgotten liberty

and dared no longer aspire to it; but they longed for a prince capable

of defending them, and who, by his moderation and good faith, could give

them hopes of peace. They saw none such in Italy; Germany unexpectedly

offered one. John, king of Bohemia, the son of Henry VII, arrived

at Trent towards the end of the year 1330. The memory of his father

was rendered dearer to the Italians by the comparison of his conduct

with that of his successor; and John was calculated to heighten this

predilection. He could not submit to the barbarism of Bohemia, and

inhabited, in preference, the county of Luxemburg, or Paris; and having

acquired a spirit of heroism, by his constant reading or listening to the

French romances of chivalry, he aspired to the glory of being a complete

knight. All that could at first sight seduce the people was united in

him--beauty, valour, dexterity in all corporeal exercises, eloquence, an

engaging manner. His conduct in France and Germany, where he had been by

turns warrior and pacificator, was noble. He never sought anything for

himself; he seemed to be actuated only by the love of the general good or

glory.

The Italians, justly disgusted with their own princes, eagerly offered

to throw themselves into his arms; the city of Brescia sent deputies

to Trent, to offer John the sovereignty of their republic. He arrived

there, to take possession of it, on the 31st of December, 1330. Almost

immediately after, Bergamo, Cremona, Pavia, Vercelli, and Novara followed

the example of Brescia. Azzo Visconti himself, son of Galeazzo, who, in

1328, had repurchased Milan from Ludwig of Bavaria, could not withstand

the enthusiasm of his subjects; he nominally ceded the government to

John, taking henceforth the title of his vicar only. Parma, Modena,

Reggio, and lastly Lucca also soon gave themselves to John of Bohemia.

John, in all these cities, recalled indiscriminately the Guelf and

Ghibelline exiles, restored peace, and made them at last taste the

first-fruits of good government.

The Florentines did not find sufficient strength in the Guelf party

to oppose the menacing greatness of the king of Bohemia. Robert of

Naples was become old; he wanted energy, and his soldiers courage.

The republic of Bologna, formerly so rich and powerful, had lost its

vigour under the government of the legate, Bertrand de Poiet; those

of Perugia and Siena had within themselves few resources, and those

few their jealousy of Florence prevented their liberally employing.

There remained no free cities in Lombardy; and all those in the states

of the church, which during the preceding century had shown so much

spirit, had fallen under the yoke of some petty tyrant, who immediately

declared for the Ghibelline party. The Florentines felt the necessity

of silencing their hereditary enmities and their ancient repugnances,

and of making an alliance with the Lombard Ghibellines against John of

Bohemia, with the condition that in dividing his spoils they should all

agree to prevent the aggrandisement of any single power, and preserve

between themselves an exact equilibrium, in order that Italy after their

conquests should incur no danger of being subjugated by one of them. The

treaty of alliance against the king of Bohemia, and the partition of the

states which he had just acquired in Italy, was signed in the month of

September, 1332. Cremona was to be given to Visconti; Parma to Mastino

della Scala, the nephew and successor of Can’ Grande; Reggio to Gonzaga;

Modena to the marquis d’Este; and Lucca to the Florentines.

John did not oppose to this league the resistance that was expected from

his courage and talents. Of an inconstant character, becoming weary of

everything, always pursuing something new, thinking only of shining

in courts and tournaments, he soon regarded all these little Italian

principalities, of which he had already lost some, as too citizen-like

and unlordly: he sold every town which had given itself to him, to

whatever noble desired to rule over it; and he departed for Paris on

the 15th of October, 1333, leaving Italy in still greater confusion

than before. The Lombard Ghibellines, confederates of the Florentines,

succeeded, before the end of the summer of 1335, in taking possession of

the cities abandoned by the king of Bohemia. Lucca, which alone fell to

the share of Florence, was defended by a band of German soldiers, who

made it the centre of their depredations, and barbarously tyrannised over

the Lucchese. Mastino della Scala offered to treat for the Florentines

with the captains who then commanded at Lucca, and he succeeded in

obtaining the surrender of the town to him, on the 20th of December,

1335. As soon as he became master of it he began to flatter himself that

it would afford him the means of subjugating the rest of Tuscany; and,

instead of delivering it as he had engaged to the Florentines, he sought

to renew against them a Ghibelline league jointly with the Pisans and all

the independent nobles of the Apennines.

LUCCA A BONE OF CONTENTION

[Illustration: A FLORENTINE WELL HEAD, FOURTEENTH CENTURY]

[Sidenote: [1334-1342 A.D.]]

The Florentines, forced to defend themselves against their ally, who

after they had contributed to his elevation betrayed them, sought the

alliance of the Venetians, who also had reason to complain of Mastino.

A treaty was signed between the two republics on the 21st of June,

1336. The war, to which Florence liberally contributed in money, was

made only in Lombardy and was successful. Padua was taken from Mastino

on the 3rd of August, 1337, and, as that town showed no ardent desire

of liberty, it was given in sovereignty to the Guelf house of Carrara.

The Venetians took possession of Treviso, Castelfranco, and Ceneda. It

was the first acquisition they had made beyond the Lagune, their first

establishment on terra firma, which henceforward was to mingle their

interests with those of the rest of Italy. But their ambition at this

moment extended no further. Satisfied themselves, and sacrificing their

allies, they made peace with Mastino della Scala on the 18th of December,

1338, without stipulating that the city of Lucca, the object of the war,

should be given up to the Florentines, for which these had contracted a

debt of 450,000 florins. The Florentines, successively betrayed by all

their allies, saw the danger of their position augment daily; the Guelfs

lost, one after the other, every supporter of their party; the vigour of

the king of Naples, now seventy-five years of age, was gone. The pope,

John XXII, had died at Avignon, on the 4th of December, 1334; and his

successor, Benedict XII, like him a Frenchman, neither understood nor

took any part in the affairs of Italy. A few months previous, on the 17th

of March, 1334, the cardinal Bertrand de Poiet had been driven by the

people from Bologna; and this ambitious legate, no longer supported by

the pope his father, had disappeared from the political scene.

But the Bolognese did not long preserve the liberty which they had

recovered. One of their citizens, named Taddeo de Pepoli, the richest

man in all Italy, had seduced the German guard which they held in pay,

and by its aid took possession of the sovereignty of Bologna on the

28th of August, 1337. He then made alliance with the Ghibellines. The

number of the free cities on the aid, or at least the sympathy, of which

Florence could reckon continually diminished. The Genoese, from the

commencement of the century, had consumed their strength in internal wars

between the great Guelf and Ghibelline families; as long as they were

free, however, the Florentines, without any treaty of alliance, regarded

them as friendly; but the long-protracted civil wars had disgusted the

people with the government; they rose on the 23rd of September, 1339,

and overthrew it, replacing the signoria by a single chief, Boccanera,

on whom they conferred the title of doge. It might have been feared that

they had only given themselves a tyrant; but the first doge of Genoa

was a friend to liberty; and the Genoese people, having imitated Venice

in giving themselves a first officer in the state with that title,

were not long before they carried the imitation further, by seeking to

combine liberty with power vested in a single person. In the meanwhile

Mastino della Scala suffered a Parmesan noble to take from him the city

of Parma. As from that time he had no further communication with Lucca,

he offered to sell it to the Florentines. The bargain was concluded in

the month of August, 1341; but it appeared to the Pisans the signal of

their own servitude, for it cut off all communication between them and

the Ghibellines of Lombardy. They immediately advanced their militia into

the Lucchese states, to prevent the Florentines from taking possession

of the town; vanquished them in a great battle, on the 2nd of October,

1341, under the walls of Lucca; and, on the 6th of July following, took

possession of that city for themselves.[c]

A republic like the Florentine, whose strength depends upon commerce,

should take no part in wars which do not affect her. The conquests she

can make are always more expensive than the revenues she can derive

from them are important, and awaken the jealousy of the neighbouring

states, engaging her in fresh broils with them. At the end of a war

which had been carried on for the acquisition of Lucca, the republic

found herself greatly in debt, without having been able to obtain the

city; and the chief source of her riches, commerce, received a terrible

shock in the failure of the trading firms of Peruzzi and Bardi. These

commercial houses had lent to Edward III, king of England, an immense sum

of money. The king was involved in a war with France; but, although he

was for the most part conqueror, and had frequently invaded the French

provinces, nevertheless the luxury and the magnificence of his court, the

incalculable expenses of war, which are burdensome even to conquerors,

rendered him unable to satisfy his creditors; and he was obliged to

fail in his contracts with these merchants for 1,365,000 florins in

gold. Giving money its value in those times we shall find it equivalent

to about 7,000,000 sequins [about £3,052,000 or $15,260,000]; and such

a sum being lost by the city of Florence, we may easily conceive what

injury was done to her commerce. She might, indeed, have been given up

for ruined; these temporary mischiefs, however, are easily repaired,

when the primary fountains of riches are not exhausted or diverted into

another channel, and as these remained untouched in Florence they very

soon filled up the momentary deficiency. But this could not have happened

at a more unlucky moment than when the public, which draws its revenues

from private individuals, was so much in debt. To this evil was added

the dearth of provisions; and, what very frequently accompanies it, a

pestilential fever whereby, if the old writers have not exaggerated, no

less than fifteen thousand persons died that year within the walls of

Florence.

[Sidenote: [1341-1342 A.D.]]

In order somewhat to console the Florentines for these calamities, a very

respectable embassy arrived from Rome. This city, in the absence of the

pontiff, had been agitated by political convulsions, originating in the

discord of the nobility, it having been reported that the Florentines

had, in a great measure, suppressed their own discords by depriving the

nobility of every share in the government. Roman ambassadors came to make

themselves acquainted with the Florentine constitution, and with the

means to prevent the great from disturbing the public tranquillity. But

while the Romans were coming to learn the manner of living peaceably from

the Florentines, domestic broils were upon the eve of recommencing in

Florence. Andrea Bardi and Bardo Frescobaldi had been very much aggrieved

by Jacopo Gabrielli, of Gubbio, lately created captain of the guard,

and the executor of the despotic orders of those few who wished for the

exclusive government in their own hands, from which both the nobility

and the common people were entirely removed, as well as many of their

own order. To these two, smarting under the pains of recent injuries,

were united many others from the great who were deprived by law of any

share in the government; together with others from the people, who, by

an overbearing preponderance, were kept at a distance from it; and a

conspiracy was planned to change the government. Their foreign friends,

the Pazzi, Tarlati, Guidi, and Ubertini, etc., were to come to Florence,

and on the 2nd of November the whole city was to rise and overturn the

constitution. The conspiracy was discovered the day before its execution,

by Andrea Bardi, who, either through fear or remorse, revealed the

correspondence to Jacopo Alberti, one of the heads of the government. The

latter, assembling, and there being no time to lose, ordered the public

alarm-bell to be rung; and the people throughout the city took up arms

against the traitors, whose succours had not yet arrived; hence those who

were on the right bank of the Arno did not move; on the other side, too,

arms were immediately taken up, and they endeavoured to defend themselves

in the street called Bardi. Surrounded on every side by the armed people,

they were about coming to blows, when the mayor Matteo of Ponte, a native

of Brescia, a venerable man, interposed; and setting before the Bardi

and Frescobaldi the imminent danger of being slaughtered with their

families, he persuaded them to lay down their arms, promising them that

the conspirators should leave Florence, out of which city he himself

accompanied them in the night.

Fortune appeared to be playing with the Florentines, by offering and

taking away from them, at the same time, the city of Lucca, always

annoying them, whether they aimed at obtaining it by arms or by money.

Mastino Scala, after the loss of Parma, which had been taken away from

him by Azzo Correggio, seeing himself unable any longer to maintain

Lucca, offered it to the Florentines for the sum of 250,000 florins in

gold; the latter consented; but before it came to their hands, they were

obliged to contend with the Pisans, who thought they would no longer be

enabled to maintain their liberty if Lucca belonged to the Florentines.

They would have been better pleased, as they were not able to conquer

the Florentines by money, had Lucca remained free; various councils were

held in which it was finally determined they should take up arms and

contend for the possession of Lucca with the Florentines, and after some

fruitless treaty with Mastino they laid siege to it. They had collected

many troops both from the Tuscan Ghibellines and the lords of Lombardy,

particularly from Lucchino Visconti, whose friendship they had purchased

with treachery.

One of the first Milanese citizens, Francis of Postierla, had married a

near relative of Lucchino, the beautiful and virtuous Margaret Visconti

who had rejected Lucchino when he fell in love with her. His ill will

being made known to the husband, induced him to frame a conspiracy; upon

the discovery of which Francis fled to Avignon, whence he was attracted

by Lucchino to Pisa by the most insidious artifices. In spite of a safe

passage, of which the rulers of Pisa had assured him, he was taken and

consigned to Lucchino; who, in order to crown his barbarous brutality,

ordered him to be beheaded, together with his beloved and unfortunate

consort. For this act of perfidy the Pisans received powerful assistance

from Lucchino, and were enabled to maintain their position in front of

the Florentines.

The viceroy of Mastino was treating at the same time with the Pisans and

putting up Lucca at auction. After various altercations about the payment

of the money, the people of the Florentines were finally introduced into

Lucca; but two strong places belonging to the Lucchese, the Cerruglio

and Montechiaro, still remained in the hands of the Pisans, for which

70,000 florins in gold were deducted. The Pisans, however, would not

depart; and remaining immovable in the plain of Lucca, the Florentines

would have shown their sense by standing upon the defensive, and either

by occupying important posts prevented the transport of provisions to

the Pisan army, or harassed their country with inroads; but they were

ashamed of leaving them quiet; and approaching the enemy, they offered

them battle near the Ghiaia, which the Pisans did not refuse; and they

fought with varying fortune. The victory inclined in the beginning in

favour of the Florentines, and Giovanni Visconti son of Lucchino was made

prisoner; but falling into disorder, in following up the enemy, they

were routed and put to flight by a band which remained in guard of the

camp. The archers took a great part in this victory, amongst whom were

many Genoese, greatly renowned in this manner of warfare. The cavalry

of the Florentines, so much more numerous than that of the Pisans, was

in a great measure disabled for action by the arrows. The loss of the

Florentines, in killed and prisoners, was not less than two thousand men.

The Pisans, taking courage at this advantage, again surrounded Lucca. It

was singular enough to behold the ambassadors of King Robert, appearing

at this moment, demanding the possession of Lucca from the Florentines,

as his own property, telling them Lucca had been given over to his

hands since the year 1313, when it was taken from them by Uguccione

dà Faggiuola. The prompt consent of the Florentines, however, did not

occasion less astonishment, who thus lost a city they had so much desired

and had purchased with so much treasure and blood.

The same ambassadors, having taken possession, went to Pisa, and

intimated to that republic to raise the siege of a city which belonged

to the king of Naples; but the Pisans, not yielding so easily, proposed

rather to send ambassadors to the king. It may be conjectured that the

king, as an ancient friend of the Florentines, acted in concert with them

to make the Pisans retreat as the latter really suspected. Malatesta had

been made general of the Florentines, and marched in order to raise the

siege of Lucca; he was however artfully held at bay by the captain of the

Pisans who, not having sufficient people to cope with the Florentines,

and knowing how greatly Lucca was deficient in provisions, chose to

fight by temporising. The duke of Athens arrived at the Florentine

army with one hundred French horse; and other reinforcements coming

up, various operations took place upon the Serchio, where the Pisans,

although inferior in number, made a brave defence; Malatesta, superior

in force, could never dislodge them or force them to battle; and, after

many attempts to relieve Lucca, he was obliged to retreat. The Lucchese,

thus abandoned, were forced to come to terms with the Pisans, which were

very moderate; since (having given time for the Florentines who were in

it to retire) they were content to keep a garrison for fifteen years in

the castle of Lucca, called Dell’Agosta in Ponte Tetto, and in the tower

of Montuolo--which was to be paid, however, by the Lucchese; in all other

respects they were free. Thus, after the waste of so much treasure and

blood, Lucca, which had been so greatly desired, was held for a moment

and again lost.

THE DUKE OF ATHENS MADE PROTECTOR OF FLORENCE

These unsuccessful events had, as usual, excited hatred against the

rulers of the Florentine Republic. The latter, in order to cover

themselves and distract the enemies’ attention and fury elsewhere,

elected as governor and protector of the city and its states, Walter,

duke of Athens and count of Brienne, of French extraction but brought

up in Greece and Apulia. Since he had fulfilled the duties of the duke

of Calabria in Florence, this man had acquired great reputation for

wisdom and justice; and after the expiration of the period of Malatesta’s

government was elected general and protector, with the most extensive

power of administering justice within and without Florence. The duke was

a man of vast ambition, and possessed sufficient talent to profit by the

circumstances in which the city was placed, divided as it was into three

orders of persons, the nobility, the rich middle class, and the common

people. The government was entirely in the hands of the second; the other

two orders, therefore, were necessarily discontented; and adding their

old wrongs to the misfortunes which had happened to the republic from the

improvident administration of those who governed, their complaints became

more frequent and daring; but those most irritated, and probably with

the most reason, were the nobility. The people, not content with having

deprived them of every share in the government, would not even administer

justice to them; they caused the laws to be put in force against them in

the severest manner, which laws were silent for the most part in favour

of the class that governed; and thus, even in the latter order, persons

were not wanting to whom the government became odious, since the most

important offices were concentrated in the hands of a few.

All these discontented persons united themselves with the duke, urgently

beseeching him to make himself absolute master of the city, and promised

to support him; thus preferring the slavery of their native country to

a free but aristocratic government, in which they had no share. The

duke both supported and fomented this good disposition towards him; and

by some acts of vigour, which bore the colour of the most scrupulous

justice, he drew upon himself the applauses of the discontented, and

struck terror into the people, having brought to justice and made some of

those persons feel the rigour of the laws, who, from being in the number

who divided the principal offices amongst themselves, went unpunished and

were consequently odious to the rest. Giovanni de’ Medici, among the most

powerful, had been captain of Lucca. When arrested, he confessed under

torture that he had permitted Tarlati to escape from the camp (although

fame reported he was guilty only of bad custody), and his head was taken

off. William Altoviti, accused of barter, met with the same fate. Rosso

Ricci and Naldo Rucellai were also arrested; the former had appropriated

to himself the pay of the soldiers; the latter had received money from

the Pisans in order to second their interests. The duke did not choose

to punish them with death, fearful that too much blood might disgust

the people; they were therefore first sentenced to the payment of a sum

of money, Ricci to perpetual imprisonment, and Rucellai was banished to

the confines of Perugia. These chastisements in four of the principal

families, which had been accustomed to go unpunished, and were odious to

the people and the nobility, drew down great applause upon the duke, who,

considering his design already mature for making himself absolute master,

and conscious he possessed the power, chose nevertheless to ask the

government from the gonfalonier and the priors, who denied it him with

modest but firm remonstrances.

[Illustration: ITALIAN SOLDIER OF THE FOURTEENTH CENTURY]

But the magistracy, knowing the great favour he enjoyed from the public,

in order not to excite a dangerous tumult, as the people were to assemble

the morning following, agreed upon giving him the government for a year,

under those limitations with which King Robert and the duke of Calabria

had formerly enjoyed it. The evening before, the magistracy went with

other respectable citizens to the duke, who, in order to gain greater

respect for piety and moderation, inhabited the convent of Santa Croce,

and after many discussions they feigned to agree to it. The conditions

were signed by notaries on both sides, and approved by the oath of

the duke, who came to the palace of the priors on the morning of the

8th of September, accompanied by the greater part of the nobility, by

an innumerable concourse of armed people, and by his own troops. The

gonfalonier made known the deliberations which had been held in the

evening; and when it was heard that the seigniory of Florence was given

to the duke for a year, many voices from the lower order of the people

cried out, “For life!” (_a vita_). The doors of the palace being opened,

he was conducted into it by the nobility, and installed absolute master,

sending away the priors and the gonfalonier, who, preserving the name

only, were removed elsewhere in order to represent a scenic farce.

Fireworks were set off for joy. The arms of the duke were seen hung up at

every corner; at the ringing of all the bells his banners were hoisted

upon the tower; and the bishop Acciajuoli pronounced a homily, wherein he

loudly extolled the praises due to the supposed virtues of the duke. All

the cities of the republic too surrendered to him; he became, therefore,

master of Florence, not with the limited authority by which the royal

family of Naples had more than once held it, but with the absolute power,

partly conceded to him and partly usurped. Right of life and death over

persons, distribution of employments, imposition of taxes or imposts--all

were at his will; so much can a momentary delusion effect, when produced

by the fury of parties!

GROWING UNPOPULARITY OF THE DUKE OF ATHENS

[Sidenote: [1342-1343 A.D.]]

Those who were to gain most by the change were the great, so-called,

who, being hitherto excluded from the employments and obliged to obey a

government of merchants, had now every reason to hope that the duke, to

whom their rank brought them nearer than the others, would grant them

his favour together with no small share in the government. One of the

first acts of the duke was to make peace, and afterwards an alliance

with the Pisans, thinking it necessary to confirm the dominion; which

very much displeased the Florentines. It is easier to acquire states

than to maintain them. The favoured by the change can be few, and these

produce endless discontents among those who either expected or thought

the same reward due to them. The mind too, which in the execution of the

enterprise, has been assiduously vigilant and active, when once it has

obtained its end, is accustomed generally to relax, at a time when its

vigilance ought to be increased. The duke thought he would be able to

preserve by force what he had acquired by benevolence, and took into pay

many foreign troops at the expense of the republic, an insufficient means

against a populous city, which may be badly inclined.

He soon neglected the friendship of the great, and began to cultivate

that of the common people, extending his favours to the lowest, in order

to deserve their powerful support. Principal persons were put to death

upon trivial pretences; others were fined heavily in money. To this were

added the insolence and dissoluteness of the duke and his dependants

towards the most honest women; amongst whom they endeavoured to introduce

the libertine customs and manners of the French and Neapolitan courts,

and substitute them in place of the modest and decent attributes of

the republican Florentines. Not only common dissoluteness degraded his

courtiers, but even vices which nature abhors. The seed of discontent

was sown in all orders of people--in the nobility, besides the motives

we have adduced, for not being admitted to the government, as they had

expected; in the people for having lost it; in all orders on account of

the increased impositions, so that three months had hardly elapsed before

the government of the duke became detested with more vehemence than it

had been before desired.

It was not difficult for the duke to perceive the change, and the

increasing hatred of the people against him; but his manner of acting in

these circumstances was not very judicious. It was natural to imagine

that, in a new principality, some conspiracy might be planned against

him; but he thought of gaining to himself the public affection by an air

of confidence and extraordinary security, which he carried so far as not

only to despise, but even to punish as calumniators whoever ventured to

give him salutary advice. Matthew of Morozzo, for having warned him that

the family of the Medici were conspiring to kill him, was, by an act of

cruelty at once useless and imprudent, flayed and hanged; this terrible

example, however, did not deter others, so great is the hope and courage

of informers. Lambert Abatti followed Matthew in giving information and

receiving punishment; for having disclosed to the duke that some noble

Florentines were conspiring for his death, and that they held a council

with John Riccio, a captain of Mastino, he received the reward due to

the trade of an informer. This cruel severity, without gaining him the

good disposition of the Florentines, was adapted only to invite the

discontented to conspire against him more openly. The duke, however,

with an unexampled frivolity, appears to have cared more for words than

actions; since, upon its being reported to him that Bettone of Cino,

who had been already promoted by him, spoke ill of his government, he

caused his tongue to be plucked out, to be stuck upon a lance, and the

unfortunate Bettone to be dragged close to it upon a car through the

city. He banished him afterwards to Romagna, where he died from the

consequences of the wound.

Words cannot express how much, in an eloquent city, eager to examine

and judge of public affairs, such a punishment at once disheartened

and embittered the citizens against him, who thus saw even the liberty

of speech denied them. All orders of the state were roused against the

duke; three conspiracies were formed against him at the same time,

and not one had any knowledge of the other. The bishop of Florence

(himself Acciajuoli) was the head of the first; he had loaded the duke

with excessive praises at his first installation, and was now ashamed

of it. As the three conspiracies did not communicate with each other,

the projects to get rid of the duke were various, none of which could

be carried into execution; because, as suspicions increased, he had

vigilantly put himself upon guard, although the conspirators for a

considerable time remained concealed. Francis Brunelleschi, one of the

adherents of the duke, received a hint of the conspiracy of the Medici

from a Sienese, who came there, but who could only name Paul Marzecca, a

Florentine citizen, and Simone of Monterappoli. These were arrested, and,

being tormented, revealed the names of the conspirators, of whom Antonio

Adimari was the ringleader, a man of great reputation, both for the

qualities with which he was endowed and the greatness of his family. When

summoned he appeared, and was detained; but the duke dared not put him to

death.

THE DUKE DRIVEN FROM THE CITY

Frightened at the great number and the respectability of the

conspirators, and not thinking he possessed a force sufficient to act

against them, he sent for aid from various parts of Tuscany and to the

lord of Bologna; a part of which arriving, he caused three hundred

of the principal citizens to be summoned, many of whom were of the

conspirators, under the pretext of wishing to consult with them, as he

was sometimes wont to do. It was his intention to arrest them, put part

of them to death, and keep the remainder in prison, and by this execution

to terrify the rest of the city, scour it with armed men, and establish

more firmly his dominion. The summons being made known, and so many being

found in the list that it appeared clearly a list of proscribed, the

number gave courage to each; in a short time the three conspiracies were

united into one, and they determined, instead of offering their heads to

the tyrant, to attack him courageously. The morning of St. Anne being

arrived, which was destined for the enterprise, contentions between the

people were purposely kindled, who coming to blows, all of a sudden the

people appeared in arms; the streets were barricaded; the nobility and

the people, forgetting their ancient contentions, embraced each other,

and united in sustaining the common cause. The foreign soldiers of the

duke, at the news of the rebellion, marched to his assistance; many could

not gain the palace, and were either killed or made prisoners. Some,

however, came up and joined the guard, which was accustomed to remain

there. A few of the nobles, who had remained faithful to him, and a part

of the lowest order of people whom he had endeavoured to gain over, came

to him; but these, seeing that the greater part of the city was in open

rebellion against him, abandoned him. The priors, who had incautiously

retired to the palace for safety at the beginning of the tumult, were

retained as hostages by the duke. The soldiers, part foot and part horse,

who were in the square in his defence, were very soon beaten by the

infuriated mob, and dismounting retired for safety within the palace.

All the streets that led to it were blockaded by the people, and no hope

of succour nor other defence remained to the duke but the walls. These

were very strong, and sufficiently provided with defenders; provisions,

however, were wanting. He remained there besieged until the 3rd of

August. In the meantime, having assembled the people in Santa Raparata,

he gave power to the bishop, united with fourteen citizens, to reform the

government. All the agents of the duke who came into the hands of the

people were cruelly murdered and torn to pieces. This fate attended a

notary of the protector (Simone Norcia), Arrigo Fei, who was discovered

in the act of escape, disguised as a friar, with another Neapolitan. The

people were not contented with a simple death, but murdered them publicly

in the most cruel manner.

[Illustration: ITALIAN WARRIOR OF THE FOURTEENTH CENTURY]

The duke, in the meantime, found himself pinched by hunger in the

palace, and seeing himself reduced to a bad condition sought for an

accommodation. The Sienese ambassadors had joined the Florentines with

opportune aid. These, together with the bishop and with Count Simone,

treated with the people, who, however, obstinately refused every

accommodation, unless William of Assisi protector, with his son, and

Cerettieri Visdomini were first given over to them. The duke refused; but

the French soldiers, who were shut up there, protested they would not

perish by hunger or by the sword for three persons they would not even

have saved, and in the same evening threw the son of the conservatore

out at the gate. He was a youth of fine aspect, of eighteen years of

age, and was guilty of no other crime but that of being son of an odious

man. This was sufficient for the mob to make a sacrifice of him; he was

stabbed by a thousand cuts, and even torn to pieces by the teeth of the

mob. The same end was made of the father, who had been spectator of the

execution of his son. Being demanded by loud shouts, and driven out from

the palace, he was cut to pieces, carried in triumph through the city,

and his blood and flesh tasted with a savage eagerness. It is strange

to see how the people, united, can commit such atrocious actions, which

any individual, taken abstractedly, could not be capable of; it would

appear that the passions become multiplied in proportion as the number

of the mob increases; and that, thinking to do themselves justice, an

emulation in cruelty arises, which makes everyone vie with another in

excesses of barbarity. This brutal occupation was the cause of the

safety of Visdomini, who, being forgotten in that moment, was enabled to

escape in the night. After so many cruelties, the people began to attend

to treaties of accommodation. The duke gave full power to enter into

them by the means of the bishop of Lecce, to fourteen elect, and to the

bishop Acciajuoli. By this treaty he solemnly renounced, on the 3rd of

August, before the Sienese ambassadors and Count Simone, the government

of Florence and the other cities of the republic; and in token of

renunciation laid down his mace before witnesses. He departed, on the 6th

of August, accompanied by the count, who ordered him on the confines to

confirm his abdication. He at first refused; but, upon being threatened

with being taken back to Florence, he was induced to ratify it. He left

behind him an atrocious and infamous memory; nor is any other praise due

to his government than for the care he gave himself to unite the minds of

many citizens who were alienated from one another by an inveterate and

hereditary hatred.[e]

ATTEMPTED REFORMS

These events, taking place in the city, induced all the dependencies

of the Florentine state to throw off their yoke; so that Arezzo,

Castiglione, Pistoia, Volterra, Colle, and San Gemigniano rebelled. Thus

Florence found herself deprived of both her tyrant and her dominions at

the same moment, and in recovering her liberty taught her subjects how

they might become free. The duke being expelled, and the territories

lost, the fourteen citizens and the bishop thought it would be better to

act kindly towards their subjects in peace, than to make them enemies by

war, and to show a desire that their subjects should be free as well as

themselves. They therefore sent ambassadors to the people of Arezzo, to

renounce all dominion over that city, and to enter into a treaty with

them; to the end that, as they could not retain them as subjects, they

might make use of them as friends. They also, in the best manner they

were able, agreed with the other places that they should retain their

freedom, and that, being free, they might mutually assist each other in

the preservation of their liberties. This prudent course was attended

with a most favourable result; for Arezzo, not many years afterwards,

returned to the Florentine rule, and the other places in the course of a

few months returned to their former obedience. Thus it frequently occurs

that we sooner attain our ends by a seeming indifference to them, than by

more obstinate pursuit.

Having settled external affairs, they now turned to the consideration of

those within the city; and after some altercation between the nobility

and the people, it was arranged that the nobility should form one-third

of the seigniory and fill one-half of the other offices. The city was

hitherto divided into sixths; and hence there would be six seigniors,

one for each sixth, except when, from some more than ordinary cause,

there had been twelve or thirteen created; but when this had occurred

they were again soon reduced to six. It now seemed desirable to make

an alteration in this respect, as well because the sixths were not

properly divided as that, wishing to give their proportion to the great,

it became desirable to increase the number. They therefore divided the

city into quarters, and for each created three seigniors. They abolished

the office of gonfalonier of justice, and also the gonfaloniers of the

companies of the people; and instead of the twelve buonuomini, or good

men, created eight counsellors, four from each party. The government

having been established in this matter, the city might have been in

repose if the great had been content to live in that moderation which

civil society requires. But they produced a contrary result, for those

out of office would not conduct themselves as citizens, and those who

were in the government wished to be lords, so that every day furnished

some new instance of their insolence and pride. These things were very

grievous to the people, and they began to regret that for one tyrant put

down there had sprung up a thousand. The arrogance of one party and the

anger of the other, rose to such a degree that the heads of the people

complained to the bishop of the improper conduct of the nobility, and

what unfit associates they had become for the people; and begged he would

endeavour to induce them to be content with their share of administration

in the other offices, and leave the magistracy of the seigniory wholly to

themselves.

The bishop was naturally a well-meaning man, but his want of firmness

rendered him easily influenced. Hence, at the instance of his associates,

he at first favoured the duke of Athens, and afterwards, by the

advice of other citizens, conspired against him. At the reformation

of the government he had favoured the nobility, and now he appeared

to incline towards the people, moved by the reasons which they had

advanced. Thinking to find in others the same instability of purpose, he

endeavoured to effect an amicable arrangement. With this design he called

together the fourteen who were yet in office, and in the best terms he

could imagine advised them to give up the seigniory to the people, in

order to secure the peace of the city; and assured them that if they

refused, ruin would most probably be the result.

This discourse excited the anger of the nobility to the highest pitch,

and Ridolfo de’ Bardi reproved him in unmeasured terms as a man of

little faith, reminding him of his friendship for the duke, to prove

the duplicity of his present conduct, and saying that in driving him

away he had acted the part of a traitor. He concluded by telling him

that the honours they had acquired at their own peril, they would at

their own peril defend. Then they left the bishop, and in great wrath

informed their associates in the government, and all the families of

the nobility, of what had been done. The people also expressed their

thoughts to each other, and as the nobility made preparations for the

defence of their seigniors, they determined not to wait till they had

perfected their arrangements; and therefore, being armed, hastened

to the palace, shouting, as they went along, that the nobility must

give up their share in the government. The uproar and excitement were

astonishing. The seigniors of the nobility found themselves abandoned;

for their friends, seeing all the people in arms, did not dare to rise in

their defence, but each kept within his own house. The seigniors of the

people endeavoured to abate the excitement of the multitude, by affirming

their associates to be good and moderate men; but, not succeeding in

their attempt, to avoid a greater evil, sent them home to their houses,

whither they were with difficulty conducted. The nobility having left the

palace, the office of the four councillors was taken from their party,

and conferred upon twelve of the people. To the eight seigniors who

remained, a gonfalonier of justice was added, and sixteen gonfaloniers of

the companies of the people; and the council was so reformed, that the

government remained wholly in the hands of the popular party.

WAR OF THE FACTIONS IN FLORENCE

At the time these events took place there was a great scarcity in this

city, and discontent prevailed both among the highest and lowest classes;

in the latter for want of food, and in the former from having lost their

power in the state. This circumstance induced Andrea Strozzi to think of

making himself sovereign of the city. Selling his corn at a lower price

than others did, a great many people flocked to his house; emboldened by

the sight of these, he one morning mounted his horse, and, followed by

a considerable number, called the people to arms, and in a short time

drew together about four thousand men, with whom he proceeded to the

seigniory, and demanded that the gates of the palace should be opened.

But the seigniors, by threats and the force which they retained in the

palace, drove them from the court; and then by proclamation so terrified

them, that they gradually dropped off and returned to their homes, and

Andrea, finding himself alone, with some difficulty escaped falling into

the hands of the magistrates.

This event, although an act of great temerity, and attended with the

result that usually follows such attempts, raised a hope in the minds

of the nobility of overcoming the people, seeing that the lowest of the

plebeians were at enmity with them. And to profit by this circumstance,

they resolved to arm themselves, and with justifiable force recover those

rights of which they had been unjustly deprived. Their minds acquired

such an assurance of success, that they openly provided themselves with

arms, fortified their houses, and even sent to their friends in Lombardy

for assistance. The people and the seigniory made preparation for their

defence, and requested aid from Perugia and Siena, so that the city was

filled with the armed followers of either party. The nobility on this

side of the Arno divided themselves into three parts; the one occupied

the houses of the Cavicciulli, near the church of St. John; another, the

houses of the Pazzi and the Donati, near the great church of St. Peter;

and the third, those of the Cavalcanti in the New Market. Those beyond

the river fortified the bridges and the streets in which their houses

stood; the Nerli defended the bridge of the Carraja; the Frescobaldi and

the Manelli, the church of the Holy Trinity; and the Rossi and the Bardi,

the bridge of the Rubaconte and the Ponte Vecchio. The people were drawn

together under the gonfalon of justice and the ensigns of the companies

of the artisans.

Both sides being thus arranged in order of battle, the people thought

it imprudent to defer the contest, and the attack was commenced by the

Medici and the Rondinelli, who assailed the Cavicciulli, where the

houses of the latter open upon the piazza of St. John. Here both parties

contended with great obstinacy, and were mutually wounded, from the

towers by stones and other missiles, and from below by arrows. They

fought for three hours; but the forces of the people continuing to

increase, and the Cavicciulli finding themselves overcome by numbers,

and hopeless of other assistance, submitted themselves to the people,

who saved their houses and property; and having disarmed them, ordered

them to disperse among their relatives and friends, and remain unarmed.

Being victorious in the first attack, they easily overpowered the Pazzi

and the Donati, whose numbers were less than those they had subdued;

so that there only remained on this side the Arno, the Cavalcanti, who

were strong both in respect of the post they had chosen and in their

followers. Nevertheless, seeing all the gonfaloniers against them,

and that the others had been overcome by three gonfaloniers alone,

they yielded without offering much resistance. Three parts of the city

were now in the hands of the people, and only one in possession of the

nobility; but this was the strongest, as well on account of those who

held it, as from its situation, being defended by the Arno; hence it

was first necessary to force the bridges. The Ponte Vecchio was first

assailed and offered a brave resistance; for the towers were armed, the

streets barricaded, and the barricades defended by the most resolute men;

so that the people were repulsed with great loss. Finding their labour

at this point fruitless, they endeavoured to force the Rubaconte bridge,

but no better success resulting, they left four gonfaloniers in charge of

the two bridges, and with the others attacked the bridge of the Carraja.

Here, although the Nerli defended themselves like brave men, they could

not resist the fury of the people; for this bridge, having no towers,

was weaker than the others, and was attacked by the Capponi, and many

families of the people who lived in that vicinity. Being thus assailed

on all sides, they abandoned the barricades and gave way to the people,

who then overcame the Rossi and the Frescobaldi; for all those beyond the

Arno took part with the conquerors.

[Sidenote: [1343-1344 A.D.]]

There was now no resistance made except by the Bardi, who remained

undaunted, notwithstanding the failure of their friends, the union of the

people against them, and the little chance of success which they seemed

to have. They resolved to die fighting, and rather see their houses

burned and plundered than submit to the power of their enemies. They

defended themselves with such obstinacy that many fruitless attempts were

made to overcome them, both at the Ponte Vecchio and the Rubaconte; but

their foes were always repulsed with loss.

There had in former times been a street which led between the houses of

the Pitti, from the Roman road to the walls upon Mount St. George. By

this way the people sent six gonfaloniers, with orders to assail their

houses from behind. This attack overcame the resolution of the Bardi, and

decided the day in favour of the people; for when those who defended the

barricades in the street learned that their houses were being plundered,

they left the principal fight and hastened to their defence. This caused

the Ponte Vecchio to be lost; the Bardi fled in all directions and

were received into the houses of the Quaratesi, Panzanesi, and Mozzi.

The people, especially the lower classes, greedy for spoil, sacked and

destroyed their houses, and pulled down and burned their towers and

palaces with such outrageous fury that the most cruel enemy of the

Florentine name would have been ashamed of taking part in such wanton

destruction.

The nobility being thus overcome, the people reformed the government; and

as they were of three kinds, the higher, the middle, and the lower class,

it was ordered that the first should appoint two seigniors, the two

latter three each, and that the gonfalonier should be chosen alternately

from either party. Besides this, all the regulations for the restraint of

the nobility were renewed; and in order to weaken them still more, many

were reduced to the grade of the people. The ruin of the nobility was so

complete, and depressed them so much, that they never afterwards ventured

to take arms for the recovery of their power, but soon became humbled and

abject in the extreme. And thus [adds Macchiavelli] Florence lost the

generosity of her character and her distinction in arms.[i]

THE GREAT PLAGUE

[Sidenote: [1344-1346 A.D.]]

For more than thirty years the heavy chain of misfortune had been

falling, link after link, on the devoted city of Florence; wars,

sickness, poverty, famines, floods, fires, and sanguinary revolutions

had successively tried the spirit of her sons; yet so great was its

elasticity that they still rose superior, and still held on their wonted

course of national enterprise. It was hoped that misfortune had at length

exhausted her quiver, when they were again stricken in common with all

the world by her most deadly shaft, the great and desolating plague of

1348.

[Illustration: ITALIAN ARMS, FOURTEENTH CENTURY]

This dreadful visitation, which began in the far East and rolled dismally

over the western world, pressed with unwonted weight upon Florence, where

the people were predisposed for disease by a succession of events that

both morally and physically had affected the whole community. As far back

as the year 1345 unusual and constant rains accompanied and followed by

earthquakes continued from the end of July to the beginning of November;

the harvests were nearly ruined; but few grapes appeared; tillage

was interrupted, and the little wine that could be made had proved

unwholesome.

The Arno again swamped half Florence; streams, swelled into torrents,

rolled over banks and bridges and ravaged every district; Rifredi and

Borghetto were ruined by the Terzolla; the Mugnone and Rimaggio did equal

mischief, and an overwhelming flood was hourly expected in the capital.

The next year’s harvest failed, and the rain still poured down through

April, May, and June, 1346, with storms and tempests, and a partial

destruction of the smaller seeds; misfortune seemed busily brooding, but

not for Florence alone; France and the rest of Italy were struck with

equal apprehensions; corn and wine again failed; the poultry perished

for lack of food; cattle of every kind were fearfully diminished; the

price of oil became enormous, and fruit was almost entirely extinct.

Land produced at the utmost a quarter, and in some places only a sixth,

of the customary crops, and even that was unwholesome; want came like

an armed man; the peasants abandoned their farms and robbed each other

through sheer necessity; or else begged their bread in Florence, where

the concourse of starving wretches was overwhelming.

No land could be tilled unless the owner provided sustenance in kind for

his labourers besides the necessary seed, and this was almost impossible

even at an enormous cost; in former scarcities corn was extravagantly

dear but still to be had; now there was scarcely any even for the highest

offers until the government, with infinite exertion and by mere dint of

money, imported it from the Maremma, Romagna, Sicily, Sardinia, Calabria,

Barbary, Tunis, and the archipelago. But even the receipt of this was

difficult; for Pisa, equally distressed, detained all that entered Porto

Pisano until her own market was supplied. Thirty thousand florins were

nominally thus spent, one-third of which was supposed to have found its

way into the coffers of dishonest and heartless peculators. Ten great

ovens were erected by the government and strongly barricaded, where by

day and night men and women were constantly employed in making bread;

this was distributed every morning at the sound of the great bell, to

churches, convents, country parishes, and hungry creatures; but with

exceeding difficulty, from the fierce pressure of starving multitudes.

In April, 1347, it was found by the bread-tickets received that no less

than ninety-four thousand people were daily furnished with two loaves

each from these ovens. In this were not counted the citizens and their

households who were already supplied and did not share in the public

distribution, but bought better bread at more than double price from the

numerous private ovens. It was exclusive also of religious mendicants and

other systematic beggars who in infinite numbers crowded into Florence

from the adjacent towns and districts, and were in continual altercation

with the citizens. Yet none were refused, whether stranger or subject,

and all classes joined hand and heart in relieving the general misery.

The increase of grain from the wheat harvest of 1347 reduced the price,

towards the end of June, which however soon mounted up again from the

eagerness of bakers to purchase, in order to uphold the market by

refusing to make more than a certain quantity. This plunged the city into

confusion; tumults began, which the priors calmed by hanging the baker

who commenced this system, and corn fell to its natural value which the

harvest gradually diminished.

[Sidenote: [1346-1350 A.D.]]

Death and sickness of course attended this suffering, and to alleviate

the general distress the priors as early as March had decreed that nobody

should be arrested for any debt under one hundred golden florins until

the following August; and also, with a premium for importation, put a

maximum price on the bushel of wheat; this was useless; because hunger

backed by money overcame law, and corn sold for double the government

value. For further alleviation all the prisoners in the public jails were

released on a compromise with their creditors and enemies, as mortality

had already begun in these places to the number of two or three in a

day; public debtors for less than one hundred florins were also set at

liberty on paying fifteen per cent. of their fines; but very few could

take advantage of this, for all were suffering from poverty, hunger, and

distress.

The effects now began to appear; women and children of the poorest

classes sank under the woeful pressure; this lasted until November

and carried off about four thousand souls; but it was worse in Prato,

Pistoia, and Bologna, in Romagna, and throughout all France. In Turkey,

Syria, Tatary, and India, sickness raged with unheard-of violence, giving

rise and currency to a thousand marvellous tales, such as fire issuing

from the earth and air, and consuming men, cattle, houses, trees, and

even reducing the very earth and stones to cinders: those who escaped

this, died of pestilence; and on the banks of the Tanaïs, at Trebizond,

and in all the neighbouring countries, only one person in five was left

among the living; in other places it is said to have rained great black

maggots with eight legs, some alive, some dead, whose sting was death

and whose corruption poisoned the atmosphere; but these are the least

incredible of the numerous fables that this universal scourge generated

in morbid imaginations, and in which all men, being terror-struck,

believed implicitly. Turkey, Greece, Egypt, Syria, Crete, Rhodes, and the

other eastern isles bowed before the pestilence; thence it travelled with

the course of trade to Sicily, Sardinia, Elba, Corsica, and throughout

the coasts of Italy; four Genoese galleys carried it to that city out

of eight that had fled from the Euxine; Milan scarcely felt it, but as

there were then no lazarettos it swept over the Alps, searched every

vale in Savoy, ravaged Provence and Dauphiné, infected Burgundy and

Catalonia; missed Brabant, but holding on its course carried death and

misery through the rest of Europe until 1350, when it had penetrated even

the Boreal regions and nearly depopulated Iceland, which has never yet

recovered from its touch.

“This disease,” says Giovanni Villani,[d] “was of such a nature that

none survived its attack for three days; certain tumours appeared in the

groins and under the arms; the patient then spit blood; and the priest

that confessed him, and the neighbour who looked on him often took the

malady, so that every sick creature was abandoned: no confession, no

sacrament, no medicine, no attendance; yet the pope granted a pardon

to every priest who administered the holy communion, or confessed, or

visited and watched the dying man.”

This was in 1347, and solemn processions and offerings were made for

three days together to avert the pestilence from Florence; in December

the price of bread again augmented, because Romagna had absorbed every

bushel of grain from the Mugello district; Venice was empty and in want;

Louis of Hungary’s invasion of Apulia, together with pestilence on the

coast, prevented her customary supplies from Sicily and southern Italy.

Guards were placed round the Florentine state and grain was once more

purchased, so that the year 1348 came in with fear and hope, but some

diminution of misery. All these sufferings had painfully prepared a way

for heavier calamities, and they struck with killing force on a sickly,

weak, and desponding people.

Whether the great plague of 1348 fell with more fatal effects on Florence

than other places may be doubtful; yet the descriptive pen of Boccaccio

[j] has thrown a pall of immortality over this scene of universal

desolation and of death.[f]

BOCCACCIO’S ACCOUNT OF THE PLAGUE IN FLORENCE

[Sidenote: [1348 A.D.]]

The year of our Lord’s incarnation, 1348, had already come, when in the

noble city of Florence, lovely beyond all others of Italy, appeared the

mortal pestilence which by the operation of superior bodies, or from

wicked deeds, was by the just judgment of God for our correction let

loose on mortals. It began some years before in the eastern countries

and after having deprived them of an inconceivable mass of living beings

rolled westward in a continued course from realm to realm with mournful

augmentation. Human wisdom and human prudence availed not, for the city

had already been cleansed of its impurities by officers especially

appointed; entrance was denied to all infected persons, and every means

employed to preserve the public health. Neither were humble supplications

to the Almighty more successful, although made not once but repeatedly in

religious processions and divers other ways by devout persons; for very

early in spring the dismal signs glared horribly palpable and manifested

themselves in wonderful ways; not as in the east where bleeding at the

nose was a plain symptom of inevitable death, but at the beginning,

both in male and female, there appeared about the groins and under the

arm-pits certain tumours some of which increased to the size of a common

apple, others to that of an egg; and those greater and these less, and

were vulgarly called _gavoccioli_. And from the two parts of the body

above mentioned these deadly gavoccioli within a brief space began to

sprout and swell indiscriminately in every other; and soon after this the

nature of the disease began to change into black or livid spots, which in

many appeared on the arms, thighs, and other places; some large and few,

others small and numerous; and as the gavocciolo at first was and always

remained a certain sign of death, so also were these spots on whomsoever

they appeared.

For the cure of this malady neither the advice of medical men nor the

virtues of any nostrum availed or profited; on the contrary, whether

it were that the nature of the illness would not permit, or that the

ignorance of doctors (of whom, besides regular physicians, the number of

both sexes without a particle of knowledge was enormous) could not divine

the cause and therefore could apply no remedy; not only few survived, but

almost all about the third day from the appearance of these symptoms,

some sooner, some later, most of them without fever or any other

accident, expired.

There were some who fancied that to live moderately and avoid every

excess would be most efficacious in resisting contagion, and so having

formed their society they shrank from all the others by shutting

themselves up in those houses where no sickness as yet existed; to live

better they ate the most delicate food and drank the finest wines, but

in great moderation, holding no intercourse with the outward world, nor

permitting tales of death or sickness to reach their ears; but with music

and every other diversion that their means afforded they continued to

dwell in seclusion.

Others of a contrary opinion affirmed that drinking deep, and enjoyments,

and singing, and rambling about for amusement, and satisfying every

appetite, and mocking and ridiculing everything, was a sovereign antidote

to all existing evil; and as they said so they did; for night and day,

now at one tavern, now at another, onward they went; drinking without

mode or measure, but mostly at other people’s houses, whatever pleased

and delighted them; and this was easily done, for almost all, as if they

had deserted life, abandoned the care of themselves and everything they

possessed; wherefore most dwellings remained open to the world at large,

and the stranger that entered used them as if he were the lawful owner;

but with all this brutish sensuality they still kept aloof from the sick.

And in such affliction and misery was also the revered authority of our

laws both divine and human that, deserted by their ministers, they had

fallen to ruin and dissolution; for these like the rest were either sick

or dead; or if any remnants existed they were useless; wherefore all

persons were left to their own imaginings.

Many other people took a middle course between these two, neither

restricting themselves in their food like the former, nor running to

excess in drinking and dissipation like the latter, but made use of

things moderately according to their wants; and instead of shutting

themselves up they rambled about the town, some with bunches of flowers,

some with odoriferous herbs, and others with fragrant mixtures of

spices which they carried in their hands and continually applied to the

nostrils, esteeming it an excellent thing to comfort the brain by their

perfume because the air was loaded and disgusting with the stench of

death, disease, and offensive medicaments. Some again entertained more

unfeeling sentiments (as if they were haply more secure), declaring that

there was no better, nor even so good a remedy for the plague as to fly

before it; so, moved by this argument and caring only for themselves,

numbers of both sexes abandoned their native city, their homes, their

friendly meetings, their dearest relatives, and all their property, and

sought those of the stranger; or else retired to the seclusion of their

own country dwellings; as if the anger of God, being once moved thus to

punish human wickedness, would spare the rod to them and strike only

those enclosed within the walls; or, as if they counselled everyone to

fly because the final hour of Florence was arrived.

Many died that haply might have lived by timely aid; so that between

a want of that assistance which sufferers could not procure, and the

malignant nature of this disease, the multitudes of those who daily and

nightly expired in Florence would be terrible to hear, even without

beholding; wherefore, almost of necessity, things contrary to all former

habits were engendered amongst the surviving citizens.

[Illustration: LAMP, PALAZZO STROZZI, FLORENCE]

It was a custom, and we still see it maintained, that in cases of death

every female relation and neighbour should assemble within the house and

there weep for his loss; and before the mansion every male kinsman and

nearest neighbour also assembled, with other citizens in great numbers,

attended by divers of the clergy according to the dead man’s quality;

thence on the shoulders of his peers, with funeral pomp of torch and

music, the corpse was slowly borne away to that church which he had

previously chosen for a sepulchre. But when the pestilence raged most

fiercely these things almost entirely ceased, and new customs superseded

them; for people then died not only without such assemblies of wailing

women, but passed from the world in many instances without even a

single witness; and few were those to whom the piteous sobs and tears

of relatives were in mercy conceded; but instead thereof was heard the

laugh or the jest, or the convivial feast! and this custom the women in

general, casting aside their sex’s softness, did for their own especial

advantage most quickly learn.

There were but few whose bodies were accompanied to the church by more

than ten or twelve of their neighbours; nor were even these honourable

citizens, but certain gravediggers from the lowest classes named

_becchini_ who performed this mercenary service; they roughly shouldered

the bier and moved hastily and carelessly along, not to the church which

the deceased had selected, but to the nearest cemetery, led by some

half-dozen priests with few lights and sometimes none, who, assisted by

the _becchini_, and not troubling about a funeral service, tossed the

body into any empty pit that they happened to find.

The treatment of the lower and a great portion of the middle classes was

still worse, because the greater part of these being confined either by

hope or poverty to their houses, thousands daily sickened, and being

destitute of assistance were allowed to die; and many there were who

daily and nightly terminated their existence in the streets, and many

that expired in their own houses, the stench of whose carcasses was the

first notice of their dissolution. Of these and other victims all places

were full, and the neighbours, not less moved by the fear of putrid

bodies than by charity towards the dead, with the assistance of public

porters when they were to be had, dragged the corpses into the street

and left them before their several doors where especially in the morning

they were to be seen in heaps by those who wandered through the tainted

thoroughfares.[j]

NAPIER’S REFLECTIONS ON THE PLAGUE

In this wide and wasting pestilence all Europe was more or less immersed;

she was bereft of three-fifths of her population, and excepting Milan,

together with a few places at the foot of the Alps, the whole of Italy

was shaken to its centre. Genoa lost 40,000, Naples 60,000; and Sicily

and Apulia the incredible number of 530,000 souls! The city of Trapani

was completely depopulated; all died; and her silent walls and empty

dwellings were alone left to tell the tale. Throughout Tuscany the

harvest of death was proportionably great: Pisa lost four-fifths or, as

some say, seven-tenths; Florence three-fifths; but Siena mourned for

80,000 of her buried citizens and never recovered from the blow.

Amongst the illustrious victims of this universal sacrifice were

the celebrated Laura of Avignon and the historian Giovanni Villani

of Florence. The latter, says Sismondi (and his words will suit all

subsequent, as they are the echo of all antecedent writers), “was the

most expert, faithful, elegant, and animated historian that Italy had yet

produced: we have made habitual use of his history during more than half

a century with that confidence which is due to a judicious contemporary

author who had himself taken part in public affairs.” Villani was in

fact much more than a mere historian, and like almost all Florentines

became both merchant and politician; he travelled into France and the

Netherlands, was several times in the seigniory, superintended the

building of the present walls, directed the mint, and filled other high

offices in the commonwealth. He served also against Castruccio, was one

of the hostages delivered to Mastino della Scala, and spent a long life

in public and private activity; but finally, ruined by the failure of

the Bonaccorsi with whom he was in partnership, his latter days were

apparently unhappy and he died amidst the misfortunes of his country.

Sickness gave way before the August sun, and all that remained of

the Florentine people were free from disease at the new seigniory’s

inauguration on the 1st of September, but what the remnant was we are not

told; so small however that poverty disappeared, and riches abounded in

consequence of accumulated inheritances. Yet instead, as some expected,

of men’s hearts being softened and subdued and penitent, and turned to

religion and virtue and moderation by so awful a catastrophe, Florence

immediately became a theatre of luxury, riot, and debauchery. As if the

hand of God were tired, and death was swallowed up in victory, feasting,

taverns, and every kind of licentious revel occupied the people; both

sexes, high and low, with new and fanciful attire, but more especially

the latter, flaunted through the streets bedizened like players in the

rich garments of illustrious families, all now extirpated. And as if

these saturnalia were to be everlasting, few labourers would return to

agriculture, fewer still to trade, and those few insisted on exorbitant

remuneration. Unbounded pride and heartless prodigality were everywhere

triumphant; the hand of death had removed the burden of poverty; the

departure of death had removed the weight of terror, and the rebound

was startling. With feelings numbed, and passions free, no wish was too

vicious to indulge, no idea too strange for belief.

Superabundance of agricultural produce was looked for because of the

scarcity of mouths, and the contrary happened; for everything fell short

and long continued so, in some countries even to the most biting famine;

manufactures of almost all kinds, clothes, everything necessary for the

human body, were in like manner expected to appear spontaneously and in

profusion; but the reverse took place; most sorts of manufactured goods

soon doubled their former cost, and all labour brought twice the money

that it fetched before the pestilence; disputes, lawsuits, contests,

disturbances of every class sprouted like nettles throughout the land,

and Florence long and severely felt their evil consequences. Immense

treasures too had been willed away by dying men to public charities, or

in trust to corporate bodies for the poor; some directly, others after

several successions, all now swept off by exterminating plague; amongst

others there was left to the corporation of Orto-san-Michele alone the

vast inheritance of 350,000 florins, a sum equal to one year’s revenue of

the commonwealth. This was in trust for the poor; but there were no poor,

no paupers, no destitution; death had murdered poverty. Money, houses,

and other valuables abounded; the directors felt their hands at liberty,

their conscience easy; and unbounded peculation was the result; the

elections were kept close amongst themselves; they re-elected each other;

power and profit moved round in a circle undisturbed by any external

influence for three long years, until at last the angry voice of Florence

destroyed this nefarious and disgraceful system. In a similar manner,

but with better management, 25,000 florins were left to the hospital of

Santa Maria Nuova, and an equal sum to the new and useful company of

“Misericordia”; so that the city most abounded in charitable resources at

the very time when poverty was for the moment annihilated.

Many corrective laws for the various existing evils were promulgated by

those magistrates who still retained their discretion and now resumed

their power; one of these was to exonerate minors and married women from

any legal responsibility in affairs of pecuniary and other property,

unless with the consent of their relatives or guardians declared before

a judge in the court of the above corporation of Orto-san-Michele, which

had _ex-officio_ their guardianship. At the same period, and no less to

encourage population by the residence of students than for the dignity

of Florence, a public college was founded for the first time, and able

professors were appointed to the whole range of science, besides civil

and canon law and dogmatic theology.

It might have been supposed that all accounts between debtor and creditor

had been cancelled by the plague; but so many fraudulent bankruptcies had

previously occurred and so unwholesome a system of mercantile credits

had been allowed that it became an article of swindling speculation,

and large orders were frequently given on long credit with a sole view

to future insolvency. As a remedy there was now published a decree

forbidding any citizen to buy or sell on credit, not only in the state

itself but within a hundred miles of Florence, on pain of losing his

reputation and a fine equal to the amount of the purchase money. Nor

were sumptuary laws forgotten; for riches and luxury required control,

and a check was therefore placed on the expense of marriage ceremonies

which now were frequent in consequence of augmented wealth and thin

population; but as these could not at once raise citizens to the state

new scrutiny-lists became requisite for three years, which from necessity

admitted the nobles to many public offices both in town and country.[f]

FOOTNOTES

[12] [Hunt says: “Dante tells the feelings which were roused by the

coming of the king. He seemed to come as God’s vicegerent, to change the

fortunes of men and bring the exiled home; by the majesty of his presence

to bring the peace for which the banished poet longed, and to administer

to all men justice, judgment, and equity.”]

[Illustration]