CENTURIES
THE AFFAIRS OF PISA AND GENOA
In the disputes between the emperors and the popes, the Pisans followed
the Ghibelline, the Genoese, the Guelf party. Both republics, too, late
in the twelfth century, often replaced their consuls by podestas, and
both were the frequent theatre of strife between the nobles and the
populace. In Genoa, from 1190 to 1216, there appears to have been a
struggle whether consuls or the podesta should govern the state, for
during that period we find both, and, from 1216 to 1252, podestas alone.
But, as the popular assemblies were still convoked whenever any important
decision was to be made, and as the podesta, like the consul, was
elected, the citizens still retained some of their ancient privileges.
These, however, were not the only changes in the form of the executive;
the podesta was sometimes replaced by the _capitano_, sometimes by the
_abbate_, and at other times by the _anziano_--dignities of which we find
frequent instances in the thirteenth century. But none appear to have
enjoyed a long lease of power; often the very next election, according as
faction or prejudice or love of novelty prevailed, ended their name with
their administration; they could, however, hope that in the perpetually
revolving wheel of change their dignity might again attain the summit--a
hope which was almost sure to be realised. “At present,” says the
archbishop of Genoa, who wrote towards the close of the same century,
“we have an abbot and elders; whether we must soon change them or not,
no one can tell; but at least let us pray God that we may change for the
better, so that we are governed well, no matter whether we obey consuls,
or podestas, or captains, or abbots.”
[Sidenote: [1262-1298 A.D.]]
The good prelate proceeds to illustrate this truth by quaintly comparing
the different forms of government to three keys, one of gold, one of
silver, the third of wood; though the material of these, he observes,
is very differently estimated, one is in reality as good as another,
provided it does its office, that of opening. The first _capitano_
surnamed Boccanera, owed his election to the mob, whom he had gained by
flattery, and whom he persuaded to be no longer governed by tyrannical
podestas; his election was for ten years; a council of thirty-two elders
was elected to aid, or, rather, to obey him; a judge, two secretaries,
and twelve lictors were constantly to await his orders; and a knight and
fifty archers were appointed his body-guard. A man with powers so ample
was sure to become a tyrant; and we accordingly find that in the second
year of his administration a conspiracy was formed to depose him. This
time he triumphed; but when half his term was expired, a confederacy of
the nobles, aided by the populace, compelled him to retire into private
life.
[Illustration: A LOMBARD AMBASSADOR]
Into the endless domestic quarrels of the Guelfs and Ghibellines at
Genoa and Pisa, and the consequent alliances--alliances of momentary
duration--contracted in both cities with the emperor, the pope, or the
king of Naples, we cannot enter; and if we could, nobody would thank us
for the wearisome detail. As in Lombardy, the nobles were often banished,
and as often recalled. The year 1282 is more famous in the annals of both
republics, as the origin of a ruinous war between them. Pisa, with her
sovereignty over Corsica, Elba, and the greater part of Sardinia; with
her immense commerce, her establishments in Spain, Asia, and Greece, her
revenues and stores, had little to gain and much to lose, by contending
with a poor and perhaps braver power. If Genoa had less wealth, she had
equal enterprise, an equal thirst for gain, and equal ambition. Where
so much rivalry existed, it would easily degenerate into discord; and
petty acts of offence were followed by general hostilities. In one of
their expeditions the fleet of the Pisans was almost destroyed by a
tempest; a second, by the enemy; a third, after a bloody conflict off
the isle of Meloria, was all but annihilated, and the loss in killed was
five thousand, in prisoners eleven thousand. These prisoners the victors
refused to ransom and for a reason truly Italian--that the retention of
so many husbands in captivity would prevent their wives from renewing
the population, and that Pisa must in consequence decline. This infernal
policy succeeded; when, after sixteen years’ warfare, peace was made,
scarcely a thousand remained to be restored to their country.
But Pisa had other enemies; all the cities of Tuscany, with Florence at
their head, entered into an alliance with Genoa to crush the falling
republic, which had rendered itself so obnoxious by its Ghibelline
spirit. In this emergency, convinced how feeble must be the divided
efforts of its municipal magistrates, Pisa subjected itself to the
authority of an able and valiant noble, Ugolino della Gheradesca,
who dissipated the formidable confederacy, and, by some sacrifice of
territory, procured peace. Not less distracted was the internal state
of the republic, now the Ghibellines, now the Guelfs being called by
the populace to usurp the chief authority. Though the Genoese had less
domestic liberty, since they were more frequently under the control of
some one tyrant, they were in general much more tranquil. In 1312 they
submitted to the emperor Henry of Luxemburg, but evidently with the
resolution of throwing off the yoke the moment he repassed the Alps;
while the submission of the Pisans was sincere. Two years afterwards
the _capitano_ or dictator of the latter reduced Lucca, and humbled the
Florentines; but such was his own tyranny that the people expelled him.
His fate is that of all the petty rulers of Italy; yet, though after this
expulsion the forms of a republic were frequently restored, the spirit
was gone; there was no patriotism, no enlightened notions of social
duties; violence and anarchy triumphed, until the citizens, preferring
the tyranny of one to that of many, again created or recalled a dictator.
The war of the Pisans with Aragon for the recovery of Sardinia was even
more disastrous than that with the Genoese. It ended in the loss of
that important island, which had formed a considerable source of their
resources.
The evils, indeed, were partly counterbalanced by the conquest of Lucca,
which had sometimes proved a troublesome neighbour; but nothing could
restore them to their ancient wealth or power, so long as they were
menaced by so many rival states, especially those of Tuscany, and so long
as they were distracted by never-ceasing domestic broils. In fact, at one
time, their existence depended only on the imperial support; at another,
on the dissensions or misfortunes of their enemies.
[Sidenote: [1284-1369 A.D.]]
The little republic of Genoa, which, in imitation of Venice, had forsaken
its podestas, abbots, elders, and captains for a doge and senate--but a
senate much less aristocratic than that of the ocean queen, was scarcely
more enviable, though doubtless more secure. This republic, too, had
its pretensions to Sardinia, and consequently a perpetual enemy in the
Aragonese kings. Often vanquished, it implored the protection of the
king of Naples or the duke of Milan, according as policy or inclination
dictated. It had, however, a better defence in its natural position,
in the barren rocks which skirted it to the north and east, and in
the valour of its sailors; and when, as was sometimes the case, its
protectors became its masters, the foreign garrison, being cut off from
supplies both by sea and land, was soon compelled to surrender.
But Pisa had no such defence; and in 1369 she had the mortification
to see the republic of Lucca restored to independence by the emperor
Charles IV. On this occasion the Lucchese remodelled their constitution;
they retained their _anziani_, or elders, with a gonfalonier at their
head; both, however, in the fear of absolute sway, they renewed every
two months. Ten _anziani_, with the gonfalonier, formed the seigniory,
or executive government, and were assisted by a council of thirty-six,
called _boni homines_, and elected every six months. Over these was the
college of 180 members, who were annually elected.[b]
[Sidenote: [1339-1458 A.D.]]
Of all the republics, Genoa, in the fourteenth century, was accounted the
most wealthy and powerful. But after throwing off the yoke of Robert,
king of Naples, the city was agitated by continual commotions, in which
the Guelfs and Ghibellines were alternately expelled. The institution
of an officer called the abbot of the people, like that of the Roman
tribunes, had been intended to repress the power of the nobles; and the
attempt to dispense with this office was resisted by the commons, who
chose for their abbot, Simone Boccanera, a nobleman of the Ghibelline
party, and a zealous advocate for the popular cause. But his noble
descent impelled him to decline an office which had hitherto been held
by only one of the people; and the multitude overcame his scruples by
changing the title of abbot to that of duke, or doge, in imitation of the
Venetians (1339). A select few of the popular leaders were nominated as
his council; but the authority of Boccanera appears to have been almost
unlimited. He governed with firmness and discretion, and according to
Giovanni Villani a conspiracy of the nobles was promptly and capitally
punished. His reign was, however, suspended in 1344; the members of the
noble families, Doria, Spinola, Fieschi, and Grimaldi reassembled in the
suburbs, and the doge avoided a violent deposition by a secret retreat to
Pisa. After some confusion, a nobleman, Giovanni da Murta, was proclaimed
doge; but as renewed disorder convulsed the city, the contending
factions agreed to submit their differences to Lucchino Visconti, and
the rapacious arbitrator was prevented by death alone from occupying the
distracted state.
After the death of Da Murta, a new doge was set up; but disorder within
and defeat without induced Genoa to throw herself under the protection
of Giovanni Visconti. On the death of that prelate she reassumed her
independence; her original doge was recalled, and continued to rule until
1363. But from the death of Boccanera the state was torn by dissension
for upwards of thirty years, and two rival families of the mercantile
class, the Adorni, adherents of the Guelfs, and the Fregosi of the
opposite party, alternately furnished Genoa with an ephemeral sovereign.
In 1396 the reigning doge, Antonio Adorno, by an act of miserable
impolicy, surrendered the state to Charles VI, king of France, who
deputed the government to a renowned captain, Jean le Maingre, marshal
of France, and lord of Boucicault. The stern severity of this approved
soldier was manifested on his entry into the city; and two of the most
refractory citizens, Battista Boccanera and Battista Luciardo, were at
his command led out to execution. Boccanera’s head was severed from
the body, and his companion was about to suffer, when a new commotion
in the assembled crowd distracted the attention of the French guard.
The criminal seized the propitious moment, and darting into the dense
throng was lost among the multitude; but his place was instantly supplied
by the officer whose neglect had permitted his escape, and whose head
immediately rolled upon the ground at the mandate of the peremptory
Boucicault. For eight years the Genoese were overawed by his rigorous
government; but his absence favouring insurrection, the French lieutenant
was assassinated, and the state was delivered from the yoke of France.
[Illustration: GRAND CANAL, VENICE]
[Sidenote: [1458-1478 A.D.]]
But the spirit of independence was extinguished in Genoa, and she
withdrew herself from the bondage of France to acknowledge Filippo,
duke of Milan, as her master. Revolt from Milan and reinstatement of
the doge were immediately followed by his deposition, and a new form
of government was introduced by creating ancients and captains of the
people. After a few months’ duration this government was dissolved, and
Raffaello Adorno was created doge, and permitted to retain his power for
nearly four years. A new struggle between the rival families once more
convulsed the city; and whilst Alfonso, king of Naples, threatened Genoa
with a most formidable invasion, a grievous pestilence raged among her
citizens. In this complication of distress, the doge, Pietro Fregoso,
with the approbation of the principal citizens, craved the protection
of Charles VII, king of France; and the city being by treaty surrendered
to that monarch was occupied in his name by John of Anjou. The union of
the families Adorni and Fregosi enabled the Genoese to expel the French;
an Adorno was for a moment raised to the duchy and then expelled by
the Fregosi, and a Fregoso had scarcely mounted the throne ere he was
displaced by his kinsman, the archbishop Paolo. The odious character of
Paolo Fregoso threatened a speedy dissolution of his authority; and the
keen-eyed Francesco Sforza, duke of Milan, already regarded Genoa as his
own. He obtained from Louis XI of France the cession of his rights; he
secured a strong party amongst the discontented citizens; and a general
revolt in April, 1464, enabled his friends to proclaim him lord of the
city.
During the residue of the reign of Francesco and that of his son,
Galeazzo Sforza, Genoa continued in repose; but the murder of the latter
prince incited the family of Fieschi to attempt a revolt from Milan. The
storm was, however, lulled by the presence of Lodovico and Ottaviano
Sforza, the young duke’s uncles; and their creature Prospero Adorno was
accepted by the people as their doge under the authority of the duke of
Milan. A few months dispelled his authority; and Battistino Fregoso was
proclaimed independent sovereign of Genoa.[17]
In the midst of these perpetual commotions, a new and singular
association of private individuals took place in Genoa. The bank, or
company, of St. George had been instituted about 1402, when a long course
of warfare had drained the public treasury. The contributions, therefore,
of private citizens were called in requisition, in security for the
repayment of which the customs were pawned by the republic; whilst each
lender participated in the receipts in proportion to the extent of his
advances.
The administration of their affairs required frequent meetings of the
body of creditors; and the palace over the custom-house being assigned
to them, they organised a particular form of government. A great council
of one hundred was established for deliberation on their common weal;
whilst the supreme management of their affairs was entrusted to a
directory of eight. The good order of their little government insured
their prosperity; the increasing necessities of the republic required
new advances; and the public lands were mortgaged to the bank, until
that body became possessed of nearly all the territory appertaining to
the state of Genoa. To the regulation and defence of this extending
territory the company alone were attentive; and, without any interference
on the part of the commonwealth, an annual election of their own
officers furnished an adequate supply of governors and magistrates for
the provinces. They wisely abstained from taking part in the unceasing
changes in the government; and, alike indifferent to the cry of Adorni
or Fregosi, were intent only on preserving their own independence, and
securing from the successful ruler the due recognition of their laws
and privileges. The administration of this society formed a striking
contrast to that of public affairs. Instead of tyranny, corruption, and
licentiousness, the bank of St. George presented a model of order, good
faith, and justice; and the people obtained thereby an influence in the
state, which more effectually preserved their liberty than all their
violent attempts to depress the aristocracy.
_Naval Exploits_
[Sidenote: [1337-1354 A.D.]]
Notwithstanding the perpetual dissensions of Genoa, she long continued
to maintain her naval renown; and whilst the plebeians were intent on
the depression of the nobles, the family of Doria were conducting her
fleets to the discomfiture of her enemies. Like her ancient rival Venice,
she had long been acquainted with the Levant; and Galata and Pera, the
suburbs of Constantinople, were the reward of services rendered to the
Greek emperor.
[Illustration: A VENETIAN NAVAL OFFICER
(After Vicellio)]
After the peace of 1299 the Venetians, though strengthened by the
alliance of the Aragonese, abstained for a time from renewing the
contest; and the first attack upon the galleys of Genoa was punished by
defeat and disgrace. A breach of faith on the part of Venice was resented
by the seizure of all her traders in the Black Sea; but Genoa paid dearly
for this aggression, and a signal defeat by the Venetians off Caristo
nearly annihilated her fleet. In 1351 a powerful armament sailed from
Venice under the command of Niccolo Pisani, one of the most distinguished
commanders of his age; and a fierce encounter in the Dardanelles covered
the sea with the fragments of the hostile vessels. But severely as the
Genoese suffered on this occasion, they might fairly claim the victory,
since the destruction of the Venetian and Aragonese galleys was more than
double the loss which they themselves sustained; and Pisani admitted
the defeat by leaving his enemies in possession of the scene of action.
Even the seat of empire was threatened by the conquerors; and the Greek
emperor averted their vengeance by the expulsion of his former allies
from the capital. But the pride of Genoa soon afterwards sustained a
severe check; her fleet, under Antonio Grimaldi, was surprised off
Cagliari on the anniversary of the defeat of Caristo; and the loss of
more than thirty ships and forty-five hundred prisoners reduced the
public to despair. This disaster, however, was amply compensated by a
splendid victory in the following year, achieved over Pisani by Andrea
Doria and his nephew Giovanni; and to the bold and spirited manœuvre of
the latter the success of the day was chiefly to be attributed. Whilst
the Venetians lay within the harbour of Sapienza, a little island of the
Morea, the younger Doria dashed into the port with twelve galleys, and,
placing his force between the shore and the enemy, commenced a furious
assault. Meanwhile the residue of the Genoese fleet attacked the galleys
of Pisani in front, and most complete victory was obtained. The Venetians
suffered an enormous loss of both vessels and men; and amongst the six
thousand prisoners led in triumph to Genoa was the renowned commander
Niccolo Pisani.
[Sidenote: [1354-1379 A.D.]]
The Genoese thus triumphant swept the coast of Barbary, assaulted and
plundered Tripoli, and sold the city to a wealthy Saracen for 50,000
pieces of gold. A more important conquest was achieved eighteen years
afterwards. At the coronation of Peter de Lusignan, king of Cyprus, a
dispute for precedence arose between the consuls of Genoa and Venice,
which the Cypriote authorities decided in favour of the latter. Irritated
by this award, the Genoese attempted to assert their right by violence;
and the Cypriotes, resenting an affront offered in the royal presence,
flew to arms, and immediately put the offenders to death. Not content
with this summary vengeance, they set on foot a general massacre
through the island, and a single Genoese was left alive to convey the
heavy tidings to the republic. A new fleet was forthwith sent from
Genoa, commanded by Pietro Fregoso, and the island of Cyprus offered
little resistance to the invaders. Nor can they be accused of want of
moderation, since only three lives were sacrificed to the manes of their
slaughtered countrymen. The king was restored to liberty, and even
permitted to retain his title; but a yearly tribute of 40,000 florins was
exacted by the conquerors.
A new offence soon kindled another war with Venice. So low had the Greek
Empire fallen that the Genoese had taken upon themselves to dethrone
the emperor Joannes Palæologus in favour of his son Andronicus, who
promised them in return the island of Tenedos. But the deposed tyrant
was supported by their ancient rival, who took advantage of the imperial
schism to get possession of Tenedos; and Genoa, strengthened by the
alliance of Louis, king of Hungary, Francesco da Carrara, lord of Padua,
and the patriarch of Aquileia, declared war against the Venetians. The
fleet of Genoa was commanded by Luciano Doria, that of Venice by Vittore
Pisani. Fortune from the commencement favoured the Genoese; and in the
month of May, 1379, a great and sanguinary battle off Chioggia was
attended by a brilliant victory. The death of their admiral Doria, who
fell in the first onset, inspired them with vindictive fury; and fifteen
Venetian galleys and upwards of a thousand prisoners fell into the hands
of the conquerors. Many of these were inhumanly butchered by the Genoese
in revenge for the fall of Doria; whilst the defeated Pisani, returning
to the capital, was plunged into a dungeon by the implacable government
of Venice.
A reinforcement under Pietro Doria now enabled the Genoese to follow
up their victory, and the island and city of Chioggia were captured
with immense loss to the Venetians. The utmost consternation prevailed
throughout Venice, and the most humiliating terms of peace were proposed
by the disheartened senate. But the haughty Doria rejected all terms of
accommodation. “Never, by the faith of God!” he exclaimed, “never, my
lords of Venice, shall ye have peace till we have bridled those brazen
horses of St. Mark’s; when they are bitted, ye may dare to talk of peace.”
Nothing can more strongly mark the consternation of the Venetian
government than their yielding on this trying occasion to the outcries
of the populace. In obedience to their urgent call Pisani was delivered
from his dungeon and once more placed in command of the armament. Despair
prompted the most vigorous preparations for defence; great rewards were
promised to all whose exertions should be most conspicuous; and nobility
was to be the reward of the thirty citizens who should pre-eminently
distinguish themselves in preserving the state. The great aim of Pisani
was now to blockade the Genoese fleet, which had taken up its station
within the port of Chioggia. This daring enterprise was achieved with
incredible labour and severe loss on the part of the Venetians. By
sinking vessels laden with stones at the mouths of the several channels
which led into the Lagune, he rendered all egress impossible.[g]
[Sidenote: [1379-1381 A.D.]]
[Illustration: A VENETIAN GENERAL]
The circumstances of the two combatants were thus entirely changed.
But the Genoese fleet, though besieged in Chioggia, was impregnable,
and their command of the land secured them from famine. Venice,
notwithstanding her unexpected success, was still very far from secure;
it was difficult for the doge to keep his position through the winter;
and if the enemy could appear in open sea, the risks of combat were
extremely hazardous. It is said that the senate deliberated upon
transporting the seat of their liberty to Candia, and that the doge had
announced his intention to raise the siege of Chioggia, if expected
succours did not arrive by the 1st of January, 1380. On that very day,
Carlo Zeno, an admiral, who, ignorant of the dangers of his country, had
been supporting the honour of her flag in the Levant and on the coast of
Liguria, appeared with a reinforcement of eighteen galleys and a store
of provisions. From that moment the confidence of Venice revived. The
fleet, now superior in strength to the enemy, began to attack them with
vivacity. After several months of obstinate resistance, the Genoese,
whom their republic had ineffectually attempted to relieve by a fresh
armament, blocked up in the town of Chioggia, and pressed by hunger,
were obliged to surrender. Nineteen galleys only out of forty-eight were
in good condition, and the crews were equally diminished in the ten
months of their occupation of Chioggia. The pride of Genoa was deemed to
be justly humbled; and even her own historian Stella[h] confesses that
God would not suffer so noble a city as Venice to become the spoil of a
conqueror.
Each of the two republics had sufficient reason to lament their mutual
prejudices and the selfish cupidity of their merchants, which usurps in
all maritime countries the name of patriotism. Though the capture of
Chioggia did not terminate the war, both parties were exhausted, and
willing, next year, to accept the mediation of the duke of Savoy. By the
Peace of Turin, Venice surrendered most of her territorial possessions to
the king of Hungary. That prince and Francesco da Carrara were the only
gainers. Genoa obtained the isle of Tenedos, one of the original subjects
of dispute--a poor indemnity for her losses. Though, upon a hasty view,
the result of this war appears more unfavourable to Venice, yet in fact
it is the epoch of the decline of Genoa. From this time she never
commanded the ocean with such navies as in days gone by; her commerce
gradually went into decay; and the fifteenth century, the most splendid
in the annals of Venice, is, till recent times, the most ignominious in
those of Genoa. But this was partly owing to internal dissensions, by
which her liberty, as well as glory, was for a considerable space of time
suspended.
THE AFFAIRS OF VENICE[18]
[Sidenote: [1172-1319 A.D.]]
While Genoa lost even her political independence, Venice became more
conspicuous and powerful than before.
The great Council of Venice, as established in 1172, was to consist of
480 citizens, equally taken from the six districts of the city, and
annually renewed. But the election was not made immediately by the
people. Two electors, called tribunes, from each of the six districts,
appointed the members of the council by separate nomination. These
tribunes, at first, were themselves chosen by the people; so that the
intervention of this electoral body did not apparently trespass upon the
democratical character of the constitution. But the great council, which
was principally composed of men of high birth, and invested by the law
with the appointment of the doge, and of all the councils of magistracy,
seem, early in the thirteenth century, to have assumed the right of
naming their own constituents. Besides appointing the tribunes, they took
upon themselves another privilege; that of confirming or rejecting their
successors, before they resigned their functions.
These usurpations rendered the annual election almost nugatory; the same
members were usually renewed, and though the dignity of councillor was
not yet hereditary, it remained, upon the whole, in the same families.
In this transitional state the Venetian government continued during
the thirteenth century; the people actually debarred of power, but a
hereditary aristocracy not completely or legally confirmed. The right of
electing, or rather of re-electing, the great council was transferred,
in 1297, from the tribunes, whose office was abolished, to the council
of Forty; they ballotted upon the names of the members who already
sat, and whoever obtained twelve favouring balls out of forty retained
his place. The vacancies occasioned by rejection or death were filled
up by a supplemental list formed by three electors, nominated in the
great council. But they were expressly prohibited, by laws of 1298 and
1300, from inserting the name of anyone whose paternal ancestors had
not enjoyed the same honour. Thus an exclusive hereditary aristocracy
was finally established. And the personal rights of noble descent were
rendered complete in 1319, by the abolition of all elective forms. By
the constitution of Venice as it was then settled, every descendant of
a member of the great council, on attaining twenty-five years of age,
entered as of right into that body, which of course became unlimited in
its numbers.
[Sidenote: [1297-1319 A.D.]]
These gradual changes between 1297 and 1319 were first made known by
Sandi.[i] All former writers, both ancient and modern, fix the complete
and final establishment of the Venetian aristocracy in 1297.
But an assembly so numerous as the great council, even before it was
thus thrown open to all the nobility, could never have conducted the
public affairs with that secrecy and steadiness which were characteristic
of Venice; and without an intermediary power between the doge and the
patrician multitude the constitution would have gained nothing in
stability to compensate for the loss of popular freedom. The great
council had proceeded, very soon after its institution, to limit the
ducal prerogatives. That of exercising criminal justice, a trust of
vast importance, was transferred in 1179, to a council of forty members
annually chosen. The executive government itself was thought too
considerable for the doge without some material limitations. Instead
of naming his own assistants or _pregadi_, he was only to preside in a
council of sixty members, to whom the care of the state in all domestic
and foreign relations, and the previous deliberation upon proposals
submitted to the great council was confided.
[Illustration: A VENETIAN SENATOR]
This council of pregadi, generally called in later times the senate, was
enlarged, in the fourteenth century, by sixty additional members; and as
a great part of the magistrates had also seats in it, the whole number
amounted to between two and three hundred. Though the legislative power,
properly speaking, remained with the great council, the senate used to
impose taxes, and had the exclusive right of making peace and war. It was
annually renewed, like almost all other councils at Venice, by the great
council. But since even this body was too numerous for the preliminary
discussion of business, six councillors, forming, along with the doge,
the seigniory, or visible representative of the republic, were empowered
to despatch orders, to correspond with ambassadors, to treat with foreign
states, to convoke and preside in the councils, and perform other duties
of an administration. In part of these they were obliged to act with
the concurrence of what was termed the college, comprising, besides
themselves, certain select councillors, from different constituted
authorities.
It might be imagined, that a dignity so shorn of its lustre as that of
doge, would not excite an overweening ambition. But the Venetians were
still jealous of extinguished power; and while their constitution was
yet immature, the great council planned new methods of restricting their
chief magistrate. An oath was taken by the doge on his election, so
comprehensive as to embrace every possible check upon undue influence.
He was bound not to correspond with foreign states, or to open their
letters, except in the presence of the seigniory; to acquire no property
beyond the Venetian dominions, and to resign what he might already
possess; to interpose, directly or indirectly, in no judicial process,
and not to permit any citizen to use tokens of subjection in saluting him.
As a further security, they devised a remarkably complicated mode of
supplying the vacancy of his office. Election by open suffrage is always
liable to tumult or corruption, nor does the method of secret ballot,
while it prevents the one, afford in practice any adequate security
against the other. Election by lot incurs the risk of placing incapable
persons in situations of arduous trust. The Venetian scheme was intended
to combine the two modes without their evils, by leaving the absolute
choice of their doge to electors taken by lot.
[Sidenote: [1296-1310 A.D.]]
It was presumed that, among a competent number of persons, though taken
promiscuously, good sense and right principles would gain such an
ascendency, as to prevent any flagrantly improper nomination, if undue
influence could be excluded. For this purpose, the ballot was rendered
exceedingly complicated, that no possible ingenuity or stratagem might
ascertain the electoral body before the last moment. A single lottery,
if fairly conducted, is certainly sufficient for this end. At Venice,
as many balls as there were members of the great council present were
placed in an urn. Thirty of these were gilt. The holders of gilt balls
were reduced by a second ballot to nine. The nine elected forty, whom lot
reduced to twelve. The twelve chose twenty-five by separate nomination.
The twenty-five were reduced by lot to nine; and each of the nine chose
five. These forty-five were reduced to eleven, as before; the eleven
elected forty-one, who were the ultimate voters for a doge.
A hereditary prince could never have remained quiet in such trammels as
were imposed upon the doge of Venice. But early prejudice accustoms men
to consider restraint, even upon themselves, as advantageous; and the
limitations of ducal power appeared to every Venetian as fundamental as
the great laws of the English constitution do to ourselves. Many doges of
Venice, especially in the Middle Ages, were considerable men; but they
were content with the functions assigned to them, which, if they could
avoid the tantalising comparison of sovereign princes, were enough for
the ambition of republicans. For life the chief magistrates of their
country, her noble citizens forever, they might thank her in their own
name for what she gave, and in that of their posterity for what she
withheld.
For some years after what was called the closing of the great council
by the law of 1296, which excluded all but the families actually in
possession, a good deal of discontent showed itself among the commonalty.
Several commotions took place about the beginning of the fourteenth
century, with the object of restoring a more popular regimen. Upon the
suppression of the last, in 1310, the aristocracy sacrificed their own
individual freedom along with that of the people, to the preservation
of an imaginary privilege. They established the famous Council of Ten,
that most remarkable part of the Venetian constitution. This council,
it should be observed, consisted in fact of seventeen, comprising the
seigniory, or the doge and his six councillors, as well as the ten
properly so called. The Council of Ten had by usage, if not by right, a
controlling and dictatorial power over the senate and other magistrates;
rescinding their decisions, and treating separately with foreign princes.
Their vast influence strengthened the executive government, of which they
formed a part, and gave a vigour to its movements, which the jealousy
of the councils would possibly have impeded. But they are chiefly known
as an arbitrary and inquisitorial tribunal, the standing tyranny of
Venice. Excluding the old council of Forty, a regular court of criminal
judicature, not only from the investigation of treasonable charges but
of several other crimes of magnitude, they inquired, they judged, they
punished, according to what they called reason of state.
The public eye never penetrated the mystery of their proceedings; the
accused was sometimes not heard, never confronted with witnesses; the
condemnation was secret as the inquiry, the punishment undivulged like
both. The terrible and odious machinery of a police, the insidious
spy, the stipendiary informer, unknown to the carelessness of feudal
governments, found their natural soil in the republic of Venice.
Tumultuous assemblies were scarcely possible in so peculiar a city, and
private conspiracies never failed to be detected by the vigilance of the
Council of Ten. Compared with the Tuscan republics, the tranquillity of
Venice is truly striking. The names of Guelf and Ghibelline hardly raised
any emotion in her streets, though the government was considered in the
first part of the fourteenth century as rather inclined towards the
latter party. But the wildest excesses of faction are less dishonouring
than the stillness and moral degradation of servitude.[j]
[Sidenote: [1289-1325 A.D.]]
On the death of Giovanni Dandolo in 1289, the long delay of the electors
to name a successor furnished an excuse to the populace to resume their
ancient privilege; and they tumultuously hailed Jacopo Tiepolo as their
doge. But Tiepolo, wisely declining an honour thus irregularly conferred,
withdrew for a time from Venice, and the Forty-one at length fixed on
Pietro Gradenigo, a nobleman extremely obnoxious to the people. With
him originated a measure which forever shut out the commonalty; and the
Forty, who were entrusted with the annual election of the council, were
enjoined to re-elect all such members of the old council as were not
declared unfit by twenty-nine voices. Not to render the people desperate,
three commissioners were appointed to make supplemental lists of such
other citizens as might be fit to fill vacancies caused by the rejection
of the former, or the death of existing members of the council; which
lists were in like manner subject to the approval of the Forty. But as
three commissioners were appointed by the council itself, it was easy
to foresee that this body would be careful to name such persons only as
favoured their own order; and lest the electors should err on the popular
side, a decree was soon afterwards made, by which they were forbidden
to insert any person in their lists, who himself or whose ancestor
had not formerly belonged to the great council. In course of time the
commissioners were wholly suppressed; the council was declared permanent;
and all who could prove themselves descended from one of this body were
entitled to inscribe their names in the Golden Book, and to enter this
noble assembly at the age of twenty-five.
_The Tiepolo Conspiracy, and the Council of Ten_
[Sidenote: [1325-1355 A.D.]]
These changes were not effected without some movement on the part of the
people; and the suppression of a feeble conspiracy, and the punishment
of its leaders, did not deter others from plotting against the power of
the aristocracy. A numerous band of citizens, headed by Baiamonte Tiepolo
(son of Jacopo), was formed, and extensive preparations were made for the
subversion of the government. But detection having prematurely driven the
conspirators into open revolt, they were easily overwhelmed and destroyed
in the narrow streets of Venice; and this new conspiracy furnished an
excuse for erecting that fearful tribunal--the Council of Ten. This
formidable assembly, though originally only a temporary measure, was
afterwards, in 1325, declared permanent. It was invested with arbitrary
and almost unlimited powers; under pretence of watching over the safety
of the republic, the Ten gradually assumed the government of the state,
made peace and war, disposed of the finances, and even abrogated the
proceedings of the great council. Their spies and emissaries pervaded
every quarter of the city; they seized, imprisoned, or put to secret
death, without responsibility to any higher authority; whilst no rank
was secure from their machinations. Even the doge himself might tremble
at their vigilance and severity; and the fate of Marino Falieri, thirty
years after the permanent institution of this council, forms a striking
event in the annals of this extraordinary oligarchy.[g]
_The Story of Marino Falieri_
Falieri, who had passed his fifteenth lustre, had married a young lady
of great beauty and elegance, and the union was naturally, perhaps
inevitably, accompanied by suspicions on the part of the doting husband.
They chiefly fell on the president of the old or “criminal forty” (so
called to distinguish that tribunal from two others of less dignity,
which took cognisance of minor matters), whom he somewhat rudely expelled
from his house at an entertainment he had given to the nobility. The
president felt the insult the more deeply, as his attentions had not been
devoted to the wife of the doge, but to one of her women. In the impulse
of the moment he wrote on the throne of the doge a verse which, whether
founded on truth or not, he knew must sorely wound him, as reflecting on
his honour and the fidelity of his consort. It ran:
“_Marin Falieri dalla bella moglie_,
_Altri la gode ed egli mantiene_”
(Marino Falieri of the beautiful wife; others enjoy her, he maintains
her). Falieri discovered the writer, and denounced him to the public
advocates; but, contrary to his expectation, those men, considering
the offence a venial one, carried the cause, not before the tremendous
Council of Ten, but the Criminal Forty--the very tribunal of which the
accused was president. The culprit met with favour; he was condemned only
to one month’s imprisonment.
From this moment the doge indulged uncontrolled animosity against the
tribunal, and even the whole order of nobles, whom he regarded as the
betrayers of his honour. It was followed by the hope of revenge. He
knew the dissatisfaction entertained by both the plebeians and the less
privileged nobles towards the government, and he artfully endeavoured to
foment it. His reply to a citizen who one day complained before him that
a wife or daughter had been dishonoured or insulted by a member of the
grand council, produced great impression: “You will never obtain justice.
Have not I myself been insulted, without the hope of adequate redress?”
In a short time he organised a conspiracy, the object of which was to
open the grand council to the nobility and the election of the members
of all the public functionaries, of the doge himself, to the citizens
at large. The evening before the day fixed for its execution, it was
denounced by one of the conspirators; others were arrested and tortured;
numbers were executed.[b]
But the demands of justice were not yet satisfied, and the law claimed
a larger sacrifice, a nobler victim. The process against Marino Falieri
followed. On the morning of Thursday, the 16th of April, 1355, the old
man was led from his apartments, attired in his robes of state, to the
great council chamber, where he was confronted with his accusers and
his judges. The bench was composed of the six privy councillors, nine of
the decemvirs, and a _giunta_ of twenty sages, which had been specially
convoked to meet the extreme gravity of the occasion. The latter had a
deliberative voice merely, and no vote.
The articles of arraignment were no sooner read than Falieri made a
candid and unreserved confession. He avowed all. He stigmatised himself
as the worst of criminals, and as one deserving of the highest penalty
which it was in the power of the laws to inflict. Without further
preamble it was then put to the vote, whether the accused should suffer
death. Five of the privy council and the nine decemvirs recorded their
suffrages in the affirmative. It was a majority of fourteen to one.
One voice alone, it seemed, asked mercy for him who had in the eyes of
the aristocracy aggravated the crime of treason by fraternising with
tradesmen and plebeians. After the delivery of the verdict the condemned
was led back to the palace. It had been ordered that “Marino Falieri,
being convicted of conspiring against the constitution, should be taken
to the head of the grand staircase of St. Mark’s, and there, being
stripped of the ducal bonnet and the other emblems of his dignity, should
be decapitated.” The sentence was one which could not fail to strike an
icy chill into every heart. But it was received by the doge with a placid
equanimity worthy of the hero of Lucca.
[Illustration: VENICE FROM SAN GIORGIO]
The execution took place on the following morning at the hour of tierce.
Giovanni Mocenigo, the senior privy councillor, followed by his five
colleagues, the decemvirs, the advocates of the commune, and the other
great officers of state, advanced to meet his serenity, who had been
conducted under guard from his own apartments to the great council
saloon. Forming a circle round him, they escorted him to the fatal
spot which had been selected for the horrid catastrophe. A stupendous
concourse of persons of all conditions had congregated to witness the
spectacle. A gloomy and awful stillness reigned throughout the Piazza.
The doge, amid a silence in which a whisper or a sigh would have been
audible, implored the forgiveness of his countrymen, and extolled the
equity of the doom which he was about to undergo. He was then uncrowned
and disrobed. A black cap was substituted for the biretta, and a cloak
of the same colour was cast across his shoulders. At an appointed signal
he laid his head on the block, and at a single stroke the executioner
severed it from his body. Immediately after the removal of the latter,
the doors of St. Mark’s were thrown open, and the crowd entered in wild
disorder, eager to catch a glimpse of the mutilated corpse, which was
there exposed to view preparatory to burial (Friday, April 17th, 1355).
[Sidenote: [1355-1405 A.D.]]
Thus miserably perished, at the ripe age of seventy-seven, one of the
greatest soldiers and statesmen whom Venice could boast; that same
Falieri who during two and forty years of public services had earned as
count of Valdemarino a splendid and enviable reputation. Such was the
ignominious fall of a man whose versatile talents had enabled him to
shine in every branch of official life, and whose uncontrollable passions
brought his white hairs before the close of seven months from a throne to
a scaffold. Falieri had survived most of his early friends, if not his
domestic happiness; it was ruled that he should survive his honour also.
The ducal remains were interred without any mark of pomp at San Giovanni
e Paolo, behind the monastery, and in the direction of the chapel of
Santa Maria della Pace; and from a mixed motive of delicacy and pride the
Ten directed their secretary to omit all direct allusions in the books of
their transactions to his sentence and execution. The words, “Let it not
be written” formed the sole clew afforded by the _Misti_ to a great crime
and a great tragedy. The effigy of Falieri found its place after the
sepulture in the hall, where the portraits of all his predecessors were
hung. It was not till twelve years posterior to the event which has been
narrated that the Ten, by a decree dated the 16th of March, 1367, caused
it to be cancelled, and a black crape arras to be substituted, surmounted
by the words, “_Hic est locus Marini Faletri decapitati pro criminibus_.”
Three centuries had passed away, when some labourers digging near the
spot accidentally exhumed a sarcophagus. The discovery did not at the
moment attract much curiosity, but the sarcophagus was eventually opened,
and it was then found to contain a skeleton with the skull placed between
the knees. This peculiarity was designated to indicate that the person,
whose spirit was once dwelling in the now uniformed clay, had died
by the hand of the executioner; and if any doubt still remained, the
half-defaced inscription on the urn served to show that the bones of the
unhappy Falieri were there.[k]
_Venetian Wars and Conquests_
[Sidenote: [1405-1450 A.D.]]
We have already earlier in this chapter told of the wars between Genoa
and Venice, culminating in the humiliation of the former at Chioggia.
The first success of Venice whetted the appetite of her people for
further conquests. And the queen of maritime cities did not confine her
aspirations to the scenes of her former victories.[a]
Her anxiety once more to display her banners upon _terra firma_ induced
Venice to lend her aid to Gian Galeazzo Visconti against the Carraras,
under the promise of the restitution of Treviso, which she had lost
during the war of the Chioggia. The bad faith of the lord of Milan would
fain have defrauded the Venetians of their share of the spoil, had not
dread of their power compelled their ally to be reluctantly honest in
his spoliation. By their friendly demonstrations towards Caterina, the
widowed duchess of Milan, the Venetians next obtained the cession of
Vicenza, Feltre, and Belluno; and Francesco Novello da Carrara, who
already counted Vicenza as his prey, was ever baffled in his hopes. His
son-in-law, the marquis of Ferrara, was compelled to declare against him;
and the citizens of Verona, worn out by siege and famine, opened their
gates to the troops of Venice. This important acquisition was followed
up by a succession of easy victories; the greatest part of the Paduan
territory submitted without a struggle; and the capital itself, wasted
by hunger and the plague, promised a speedy surrender. A last desperate
sortie was repulsed with terrible slaughter; and treachery opened the
gates and admitted the forces of Venice. Carrara and his son Francesco
Terzo had now no hope save in the clemency of the conquerors. They
proceeded to Venice, were received with apparent cordiality, and immured
in a dungeon. In this horrible vault they had the miserable satisfaction
of embracing a son and brother, Jacopo da Carrara. After lingering
nearly two months in this region of despair, the father was privately
strangled in prison; and on the following day his two sons perished in a
similar manner. Two brothers of this illustrious family still survived;
of these, Ubertino terminated his life by sickness soon after the ruin
of his house; and Marsilio expiated a rash attempt to regain Padua by
a public execution in 1435. Thus by the destruction of the once potent
families of Scala and Carrara, the tyrant of the Adriatic was predominant
in Lombardy, and invested with a splendid territory, including Padua,
Verona, and Vicenza. Fifteen years afterwards Friuli was wrested from the
patriarch of Aquileia.[g]
An illustrious fugitive, Francesco Carmagnola, who arrived about
this time at Venice, accomplished what Florence had nearly failed
in, by discovering to the Venetians the project of the duke of Milan
to subjugate them. Francesco Carmagnola had, by the victories he had
gained, the glory he had acquired, and the influence he obtained over
the soldiers, excited the jealousy, instead of the gratitude, of Filippo
Maria, who disgraced him, and deprived him of his employment, without
assigning any reason. Carmagnola returned to court, but could not even
obtain an interview with his master. He retired to his native country,
Piedmont; his wife and children were arrested, and his goods confiscated.
He arrived at last, by Germany, at Venice; soon afterwards some
emissaries of the duke of Milan were arrested for an attempt to poison
him. The doge, Francesco Foscari, wishing to give lustre to his reign
by conquest, persuaded the senate of Venice to oppose the increasing
ambition of the duke of Milan.[l]
Francesco Carmagnola was amongst the first soldiers, if not the first
captain of Italy, and well acquainted with all the troops, plans,
secrets, and resources of Visconti, for his talents had recovered the
duchy and he had long been that prince’s chief favourite and counsellor.
Seeing Guido Torelli and others preferred before him, his enemies more
heeded, and himself deprived of the Genoese government, he retired from
court, but having secret notice, whether true or false, that Filippo
intended to poison him, now fled to Venice and proved his sincerity, of
which that government doubted, by this explanation. He also discovered
many of Visconti’s secrets and his designs against Venice after the fall
of Florence, most of which seem to have been corroborated by confidential
letters of Visconti unfairly made use of by the Florentine government and
sent to Ridolfi for that purpose.
A gentleman named Perino Turlo, who enjoyed the favour and confidence
of Philip, was taken in an attack on Faenza, and being carried prisoner
to Florence, there received his liberty accompanied by great attentions
and flattery, and was finally dismissed (after declaring his belief that
Philip wished the friendship of Florence) with an earnest entreaty to
make peace between them. This was a scheme to ascertain Visconti’s real
designs on Venice, in order to facilitate the pending negotiations with
that state; but Perino soon returned with various propositions of peace
which Philip, he said, most earnestly desired, and as a proof of his
sincerity produced a _carte-blanche_ besides several letters which the
seigniory instantly despatched to Venice because they contained matter
of infinite danger to that republic. Lorenzo Ridolfi lost no time in
showing them, and the Venetians, seeing the liberal offers therein made
to Florence, the bold confidence of the Florentine ambassador in urging
the league, the important communications and promises of Carmagnola, and
the temptation of conquering Brescia which that captain had promised,
determined to accept the alliance, and a treaty was completed early in
1426.
[Sidenote: [1426-1427 A.D.]]
This league with Florence was to endure for ten years with conditions
extremely favourable to Venice whose real sources of strength still
lay in commerce, and whose geographical position gave her considerable
advantages in treating with Florence, to whom her co-operation both in
force and situation was of the last importance in a Lombard war. The
Venetian territory in that province from its recent acquisition had not
yet become an integral portion of her national strength; it was but a
lucky addition to an already consolidated power--a power still rising,
absorptive, and hitherto unweakened by expansion, which therefore might
be again lost without much dismay, because no national interests had as
yet taken root or identified themselves in any way with those provinces.
But for Florence war with Milan was ever a matter of vitality, and
especially after so many disasters; wherefore she eagerly consented to
any conditions, and peace, truce, and war were now equally submitted to
the fiat of that cunning and unbending aristocracy. Venice also made some
jealous terms about the Alexandrian trade, was moreover to have every
conquest that might be achieved in Lombardy, and Florence all those in
Romagna and Tuscany not already belonging to the church. Sixteen thousand
cavalry and eight thousand infantry were to constitute the minimum of the
combined force, and strong armaments of galleys on the Main and flotillas
on the Po were to act vigorously against Genoa and every other tangible
point of Visconti’s territory. Pope Martin refused to join, but Siena
followed Florence. Niccolo, marquis of Ferrara, accepted the command of
the Florentines, and united with the league for the promised acquisition
of Lugo and Parma if conquered. Amadeus, duke of Savoy, for his own
especial objects, the lord of Mantua, and other Lombard seigniors all
signed it, and Francesco, Count Carmagnola, was appointed generalissimo.
The Venetians alone brought into the field 8830 horse and 8000 foot,
the Florentines 6110 of the former and 6000 of the latter at an expense
of 4 and 3 florins a month respectively for every soldier of each arm.
To oppose them, Filippo had 8550 horse and 8000 foot, his whole revenue
amounting to 54,000 florins monthly. Other authors, and among them
Cagnola, make the allied armies amount to much larger numbers and by
the testimony of all there were full 70,000 of both hosts at Casa al
Secco; but Cambi gives the name and following of each particular leader;
those of Sforza, Piccinino, Pergola, and Tolentino being by far the most
numerous of the private condottieri and equal to any of the sovereign
princes.
War then commenced and Filippo withdrew his troops from Romagna;
Carmagnola in performance of his promise marched directly on Brescia;
by means of a secret understanding with the Avogadori family and other
Guelfs all inhabiting one particular quarter of the city and all hating
Visconti, he easily excited a revolt, and on the 17th of March, 1426,
made such a lodgment there as immediately enabled him to lay close siege
to the rest of the town. Brescia, one of the chief cities and most
celebrated manufactory of arms in Italy, was then divided into three
distinct fortified districts, each commanded by its citadel; and besides
them a strong elevated castle which overlooked the whole.
At first Carmagnola was only master of the ground he stood on, but the
battle soon began with all the fury of an assault and all the bitterness
of civil war until Francesco Sforza, who defended it, was forced to
yield and the allies completed their lodgment. As this news spread to
Milan and Florence, the whole force of war concentrated round Brescia;
Arezzo and Romagna were soon cleared of troops, and reinforcements
poured in from every quarter. One continued scene of war and blood, of
fire, rape, and robbery attracted the attention of all Italy for eight
successive months; so that, to use the words of Cavalcanti, “never was
any tavern so deluged with water as this unfortunate city was with
blood.” A ditch encompassed it so closely without that no succours could
enter to mitigate the general suffering; within, nothing was heard but
shrieks, weeping, and lamentation mingled with the shouts of struggling
warriors and the clang of arms; with a masterly hand, almost incredible
perseverance, and in face of the whole Milanese army led by the greatest
captains of the day, did Carmagnola in a few months subdue the three
citadels successively, and finally, aided by the Ghibellines themselves,
in November, 1426, that almost impregnable castle, the last stronghold of
Visconti, submitted to his arms. A well-directed artillery, which under
the name of _bombarde_ was now becoming common in sieges, materially
assisted him, and the castle at the moment of its surrender is described
as exhibiting the appearance of a porcupine from the innumerable arrows
that covered its walls, all fixed in the seams of mortar; a fact that
does more honour to the zeal than the training of Italian archers and
crossbowmen. Thus fell Brescia, as much to the shame of the Milanese
commanders as to the glory of Carmagnola, for its capture was admired
as one of the greatest military exploits of that age and added a noble
territory to the Venetian Republic.
Pope Martin, who in consequence of his alliance with Filippo had from
that prince’s necessities recovered not only the papal cities in Romagna
but others that never had legally belonged to the church, at last
bethought himself of reconciling the belligerent states; and through
his exertions and Filippo’s difficulties a general peace was signed at
Venice on the 30th of December, 1426, by which Savoy retained possession
of all her conquests on the Milanese state; Brescia and its territory
remained to Venice; all places captured from Florence were restored and
her merchants relieved by Filippo, as lord of Genoa, from the obligation
hitherto imposed on them of embarking their English and French goods in
Genoese bottoms. Milan was once more bound not to intermeddle with the
affairs of Bologna, Romagna, Tuscany, or any state between that city
and Rome, while Florence subscribed to the same conditions as regarded
Bologna and that part of Romagna not subject to her sway.
To the great satisfaction of Florence this treaty was proclaimed
early in 1427. She had up to the 9th of November with little or no
advantage expended 2,500,000 florins, and her ordinary war expenses
were estimated at about 70,000 a month. Upon this Giovanni Morelli, a
cotemporary historian, exclaims: “Make war, promote war, nourish those
who foment war; Florence has never been free from war, and never will
until the heads of four leading citizens are annually chopped off upon
the scaffold.” So true was it, as it would appear, if any credit may be
given to cotemporary writers though influenced by the prevalent spirit of
faction, that private gain was the great aliment of foreign and domestic
war in Florence.
But the ink was scarcely dry on the treaty when Filippo, either repenting
of what he had done or pursuing his secret intentions, with the certainty
of forever losing Brescia if he executed the treaty, invited Carmagnola
in person to take possession of Chiari, a fortified town forming a strong
outwork to that city on the road to Milan. Niccolo Tolentino, suspecting
treachery, dissuaded his general from doing so notwithstanding orders
from the Venetian seigniory, and his counsel was soon justified by
information that the detachment sent on this duty was surrounded and cut
to pieces within the walls. Visconti followed up this by the equipment of
a large flotilla on the Po, the augmentation of his army with disbanded
soldiers from the allies, and a sudden renewal of hostilities. The
astonished league almost immediately took the field with what troops
remained, the general having orders to make fierce war while a strong
armament was preparing to meet the enemy afloat and attack all vulnerable
points on the left bank of the Po.
The first encounter was at Gottolengo. Carmagnola had assembled his
military cars (which in those days were an indispensable portion of
all armies for the rapid movements of infantry), and filling them with
crossbowmen attempted to surprise the enemy. The Milanese, however, were
too experienced for this and mustering their whole force attacked him
unexpectedly while in some confusion on his march, and nearly defeated
the whole army; Carmagnola, however, rallied his people, and after
restoring order began an obstinate contest.
The heat was excessive, the dust intolerable, the visors of helmets,
the eyes and nostrils of the combatants were all choked up so that
respiration became almost impossible. The Milanese were supplied with
wine and water by the female peasantry, but such was the dust and
obscurity that friend and foe seemed alike unknown and many of the allies
received refreshment even from the hands of their enemies. Numbers fell
from their horses overpowered by heat and dust; the plain was strewed
with lances, shields, and wounded men; horses were galloping wildly
about the field, some with saddles, some without; others had them turned
under their bellies, and many men threw off all their armour to escape
suffocation. Piccinino was conspicuous beyond the rest in knightly
daring, and his lance’s point was felt throughout the throng; for this
battle excepting amongst the infantry seems to have been a confused
mass of single combats, more like the _mêlée_ of a tournament than a
scientific fight of disciplined soldiers; but the footmen, in firm
well-ordered battalions, with lowered spears, charged and withstood the
charges of the men-at-arms, killing both them and their horses. When the
struggle had lasted some hours and the allies were ready to give way, the
marquis of Mantua, hitherto deceived by false reports from a cowardly
fugitive, came suddenly up with his followers and dashing forward saved
all the cavalry and restored the day. The retreat was simultaneously
sounded on both sides; each host had been three times broken, all but the
infantry, who seem by their discipline to have preserved the rest.
The ducal forces throughout these two campaigns were smaller in numbers
than the allies, but better soldiers and with a greater number of more
able commanders; yet they were unsuccessful for want of a common chief,
while Carmagnola was implicitly obeyed, and all his advantages were
gained by bringing superior numbers against the weakest points of the
enemy. To remedy this, Visconti appointed young Carlo Malatesta of Pesaro
as his captain-general; a youth of no experience, but whose high rank and
family reputation were likely to restrain the continual bickering of the
chiefs.
_Victories of Carmagnola_
Meanwhile Carmagnola, angry at the somewhat disgraceful affair of
Gottolengo, conceived the idea of surprising Cremona--a thoroughly
Guelfic city and disaffected to every Ghibelline authority; with this
view he took up a strong position at Sommo close to the town, entrenched
and fortified his camp with a thousand war-cars as was his custom, and
trusted to those within the city for ultimate success. Filippo, for the
above reasons, became alarmed; wherefore, assembling a large force and
instantly embarking on the Po, he at once occupied and saved Cremona. A
council of war was of opinion that the enemy should be attacked because
Cremona secured their own safety in case of defeat, and a victory would
almost insure the fall of Mantua. To protect that place the army was
encamped in an open space about half a mile wide, contained between the
city walls and the surrounding ditch, called _Le Cerchie di Cremona_, the
defence of which involved that of the city itself; but as the circuit was
large, a continual stream of armed peasantry came pouring in at their
prince’s call, ranged under various flags and banners and augmenting the
aggregate of both armies to full seventy thousand combatants. The allies
were superior in the number of regular troops, the Milanese in experience
and discipline, and held themselves fully equal to their antagonists
independent of the peasantry; these, however, in the unsettled state
of that time and country well knew how to handle their weapons though
despised by the condottieri, who represented them to Filippo as useful
to fill up ditches and as convenient marks for exhausting the adverse
missiles and sparing the regular troops; however, their vast numbers
would, it was said, excite fear, “the true harbinger of defeat.”
Battle being resolved on, a corps of light-armed troops was sent forward
to begin, but these were quickly driven in on the main body by Taliano
Furlano, one of the adverse chiefs who, seeing the Milanese cavalry
already formed and the whole country as far as the eye could reach
covered with banners, instantly turned to give the alarm. Carmagnola
was soon in his saddle and personally directing the defence of a narrow
pass protected by a broad and deep ditch, which the enemy would be
compelled to win ere his main body could be attacked. This was quickly
lined with veteran soldiers and the road within it flanked by a body of
eight thousand infantry armed with the spear and crossbow, and posted
in an almost impenetrable thicket closely bordering on the public way.
This pass was called La Casa-al-Secco, and Agnolo della Pergola first
appeared before it with his followers, supported by a crowd of peasantry;
the ditch was deep, broad, and well defended, and an increasing shower
of arrows galled his people so sorely that he at once resolved to use
the rural bands as a means of filling it. Driving the peasant multitude
forward, he ordered the regular troops to put every luckless clown to
death who turned his face from the enemy; so that these wretches with the
spear at their back and the crossbow in front fell like grass under the
scythe of the husbandman. But they were more useful in death; by Agnolo’s
command both killed and wounded, all who fell, were rolled promiscuously
into this universal grave, covered up with mould and buried all together.
Here were to be seen distracted fathers with unsteady hand shovelling
clods upon the bodies of dead and wounded sons; sons heaping earth on
their fathers’ heads; brothers covering the bloody remains of brothers;
uncles, nephews; nephews, uncles--all clotted in this horrid compost!
If the wretches turned, a friend’s lance or dart went instantly through
their bodies; if they stood, an enemy’s shaft or javelin no less sharply
pierced them; alive, they filled the pit with sons and brothers, dead or
wounded, with themselves! They worked and died by thousands; even the
very soldiers that opposed them at last took pity and aimed their weapons
only at armed men. “And as a reward for this,” exclaims Cavalcanti, “God
lent us strength and courage.” Nevertheless, so many were thus cruelly
sacrificed that the moat was soon filled to the utmost level of its
banks with earth and flesh and human blood, and then the knights giving
spurs to their steeds dashed proudly over this infernal causeway! It was
now that the fight commenced: fresh squadrons poured in on every side and
all rushed madly to the combat, for on this bloody spot the day was to be
decided. “Here,” says Cavalcanti, “began the fierce and mortal struggle;
here every knight led up his followers and did noble deeds of arms; here
were the shivered lances flying to pieces in the air, cavaliers lifeless
on the ground and all the field bestrewed with dead and dying! Here too
was seen young Carlo Malatesta, himself and courser cased complete in
mail, and a golden mantle streaming from his shoulders! Whoever has not
seen him has not seen the pride of armies! Here was store of blood, and
lack of joy and fear and doubt hung hard on every mind! Nothing was heard
but the clang of arms, the shock of lances, the tempest of cavalry, and
the groans and cries and shouts of either host! The sun was flaming, the
suffering dreadful, the thirst intolerable; everything seemed to burn,
all conspired against the wish of men, but the Cremonese women brought
refreshments to our enemies.”
The whole battle appears to have been concentrated in this pass, so that
numbers made but little difference on either side; nevertheless the
Milanese chivalry were severely handled by the veterans in the wood, who
kept up a continual discharge of arrows on horse and man from the moment
the ditch was passed, or else ran in with their lances and speared them.
As many died from exhaustion and suffocation as from blows, for the
battle was fought early in July and lasted from two hours after sunrise
until evening; others it is said expired from the stench of carnage
rapidly corrupted by excessive heat. Carmagnola, forced by circumstances
into the thickest fight, was unhorsed, and a hard conflict between
those who tried to save and those who wished to take him prisoner soon
concentrated all the knightly prowess of both armies round his person; he
was remounted, and dust and confusion saved him more than once, as they
did Niccolo Piccinino, besides other leaders on both sides, from being
recognised and captured. The squadrons charged and recharged in dust and
darkness; no standards could be seen; the voice alone revealed a friend;
and when a retreat was sounded whole troops of cavalry ranged themselves
under adverse banners in total ignorance of their own position. One
attack was made by a strong detachment upon the baggage and for a while
placed the allies in great danger; but being finally repulsed with the
loss of five hundred prisoners a retreat was sounded; the captives were
equal, yet the victory of Casa-al-Secco was fairly claimed by Carmagnola.
Filippo previous to this battle had endeavoured to balance his ill
success by a naval victory; the Venetian armament on the Po had been
extremely active, and to check it he placed a strong squadron under the
orders of Pacino Eustachio of Pavia with instructions to lose no time in
bringing the enemy to action. The latter, commanded by Francesco Bembo,
did not shun the encounter, which took place near Brescello; but losing
three galleons in the commencement, Bembo, doubtful of consequences,
with that rapid and bold decision that marks a superior mind, suddenly
discontinued the contest and withdrawing all the crossbowmen from his
remaining galleons manned them with the crews of others armed only
with spears, swords, spontoons, battle-axes, and short arms of every
description. These he placed in the van, while the galleons thus emptied
were manned with crossbowmen alone and stationed close in the rear of his
first line, with rigid orders under the penalty of death to kill either
himself or any other man that should turn from the enemy. He then renewed
the attack.
With the Milanese in front, in their rear the levelled crossbows ready
to shoot into the first vessel that gave way, and themselves armed only
with short weapons, the Venetian sailors were compelled either to fight
hand to hand with their enemies or be transfixed without resistance by
their own or adverse missiles. The Lombards were thus rendered the less
formidable of the two, and the closer the fight the more safety, because
free from the arrows of either squadron; thus excited the galleons were
resolutely run alongside those of the enemy and lashed there, and the
battle became more fierce and obstinate; the Venetian mariners, chiefly
Greeks and Slavonians, are described as displaying all the courage,
sagacity, and savage fury of those nations.