Venice.
Although many important events have happened since the establishment of
the State Inquisition, which have greatly affected the power, riches, and
extent of dominion of this republic, yet the nature of the Government has
remained much the same. In what I have to add, therefore, I shall be very
short and general.
I have already observed, that it was the usual policy of this republic
to maintain a neutrality, as long as possible, in all the wars which
took place among her neighbours; and when obliged, contrary to her
inclinations, to declare for either party, she generally joined with that
State whose distant situation rendered its power and prosperity the least
dangerous of the two to Venice.
This republic seems, however, to have too much neglected to form
defensive alliances with other States, and by the continual jealousy
she shewed of them, joined to her immense riches, at last became the
object of the hatred and envy of all the Powers in Europe. This universal
jealousy was roused, and brought into action, in the year 1508, by the
intriguing genius of Pope Julius the Second. A confederacy was secretly
entered into at Cambray, between Julius, the Emperor Maximilian, Lewis
the Twelfth, and Ferdinand of Arragon, against the republic of Venice. A
bare enumeration of the Powers which composed this league, gives a very
high idea of the importance of the State against which it was formed.
The Duke of Savoy, the Duke of Farrara, and the Duke of Mantua, acceded
to this confederacy, and gave in claims to part of the dominions of
Venice. It was not difficult to form pretensions to the best part of the
dominions of a State, which originally possessed nothing but a few marshy
islands at the bottom of the Adriatic Gulph. It was the general opinion
of Europe, that the league of Cambray would reduce Venice to her original
possessions.
The Venetians, finding themselves deprived of all hopes of foreign
assistance, sought support from their own courage, and resolved to
meet the danger which threatened them, with the spirit of a brave and
independent people.
Their General, Count Alviano, led an army against Lewis, who, being
prepared before the other confederates, had already entered Italy.
However great the magnanimity of the Senate, and the skill of their
General, the soldiery were by no means equal to the disciplined troops of
France, led by a martial nobility, and headed by a gallant monarch. The
army of Alviano was defeated; new enemies poured on the republic from all
sides; and she lost, in one campaign, all the territories in Italy which
she had been ages in acquiring.
Venice now found that she could no longer depend on her own strength and
resources, and endeavoured to break, by policy, a combination which she
had not force to resist. The Venetian Senate, knowing that Julius was
the soul of the confederacy, offered to deliver up the towns he claimed,
and made every other submission that could gratify the pride, and avert
the anger, of that ambitious Pontiff; they also find means to separate
Ferdinand from the alliance. Lewis and Maximilian being now their only
enemies, the Venetians are able to sustain the war, till Julius, bearing
no longer any resentment against the republic, and seized with remorse
at beholding his native country ravaged by French and German armies,
unites with Venice to drive the invaders out of Italy; and this republic
is saved, with the loss of a small part of her Italian dominions, from
a ruin which all Europe had considered as inevitable. The long and
expensive wars between the different Powers of Europe, in which this
State was obliged to take part, prove that her strength and resources
were not exhausted.
In the year 1570, the Venetians were forced into a ruinous war with the
Ottoman Empire, at a time when the Senate, sensible of the great need
they stood in of repose, had, with much address and policy, kept clear of
the quarrels which agitated the rest of Europe. But Solymon the Second,
upon the most frivolous pretext, demanded from them the island of Cyprus.
It was evident to all the world, that he had no better foundation for
this claim, than a strong desire, supported by a sufficient power, of
conquering the island. This kind of right might not be thought complete
in a court of equity; but, in the jurisprudence of monarchs, it has
always been found preferable to every other.
The Turks make a descent, with a great army, on Cyprus; they invest
Famagousta, the capital; the garrison defends it with the most obstinate
bravery; the Turks are repulsed in repeated assaults; many thousands of
them are slain; but the ranks are constantly supplied by reinforcements.
Antonio Bragadino, the commander, having displayed proofs of the highest
military skill, and the most heroic courage, his garrison being quite
exhausted with fatigue, and greatly reduced in point of numbers, is
obliged to capitulate.
The terms were, that the garrison should march out with their arms,
baggage, and three pieces of cannon, and should be transported to Candia
in Turkish vessels; that the citizens should not be pillaged, but allowed
to retire with their effects.
Mustapha, the Turkish Bashaw, no sooner had possession of the place,
than he delivered it up to be pillaged by the Janissaries; the garrison
were put in chains, and made slaves on board the Turkish gallies. The
principal officers were beheaded, and the gallant Bragadino was tied to a
pillar, and, in the Bashaw’s presence, flayed alive.
We meet with events in the annals of mankind, that make us doubt the
truth of the most authentic history. We cannot believe that such actions
have ever been committed by the inhabitants of this globe, and by
creatures of the same species with ourselves. We are tempted to think we
are perusing the records of hell, whose inhabitants, according to the
most authentic accounts, derive a constant pleasure from the tortures of
each other, as well as of all foreigners.
The conquest of the island of Cyprus is said to have cost the Turks fifty
thousand lives. At this time, not Venice only, but all Christendom, had
reason to dread the progress of the Turkish arms. The State of Venice
solicited assistance from all the Catholic States; but France was, at
that time, in alliance with the Turks; Maximilian dreaded their power;
the Crown of Portugal was possessed by a child, and Poland was exhausted
by her wars with Russia. The Venetians, on this pressing occasion,
received assistance from Rome, whose power they had so often resisted,
and from Spain, their late enemy.
Pope Pius the Fifth, and Philip the Second, joined their fleets with
that of the republic. The confederate fleet assembled at Messina. The
celebrated Don John of Austria, natural son to Charles the Fifth, was
Generalissimo; Mark Antonio Colonna commanded the Pope’s division, and
Sebastian Veniero the Venetian. The Turkish fleet was greatly superior in
the number of vessels.
The two fleets meet in the Gulph of Lapanta: it is said, that the Turkish
gallies were entirely worked by Christian slaves, and the gallies of
the Christians by Turkish; a shocking proof of the barbarous manner in
which prisoners of war were treated in that age; and, in this instance,
as absurd as it was barbarous; for a cartel for an exchange of prisoners
would have given freedom to the greater number of those unhappy men,
without diminishing the strength of either navy. The fleets engage,
and the Turks are entirely defeated. Historians assert, that twenty
thousand Turks were killed in the engagement, and one half of their fleet
destroyed. This is a prodigious number to be killed on one side, and in a
sea fight; it ought to be remembered, that there is no Turkish writer on
the subject.
Pius the Fifth died soon after the battle of Lapanta. Upon his death
the war languished on the side of the Allies; Philip became tired of
the expence, and the Venetians were obliged to purchase a peace, by
yielding the island of Cyprus to the Turks, and agreeing to pay them, for
three years, an annual tribute of one hundred thousand ducats. Those
circumstances have no tendency to confirm the accounts which Christian
writers have given, of the immense loss which the Turks met with at the
battle of Lapanta.
In the beginning of the seventeenth century, the republic had a dispute
with the Pope, which, in that age, was thought a matter of importance,
and engaged the attention of all Christendom.
Paul the Fifth shewed as eager a disposition as any of his predecessors,
to extend the Papal authority. He had an inveterate prejudice against the
Venetian republic, on account of her having, on every occasion, resisted
all ecclesiastical encroachments.
He sought, with impatience, an opportunity of manifesting his hatred,
and expected that he should be assisted by the pious Princes of Europe,
in bringing this refractory child of the church to reason. He began
by demanding a sum of money, for the purpose of carrying on the war
against the Turks in Hungary; he complained of certain decrees of the
Senate, relating to the internal government of the republic, particularly
one which forbad the building of any more new churches, without the
permission of that assembly, and which, he said, smelt strongly of
heresy; and above all, he exclaimed against the Council of Ten, for
having imprisoned an Ecclesiastic, and prepared to bring him to a public
trial. This reverend person, for whom his Holiness interested himself
so warmly, was accused of having poisoned five people, one of whom was
his own father. He was also accused of having caused another to be
assassinated; and, to prevent a discovery, had afterwards poisoned the
assassin.
The Senate refused the money, confirmed their decree against the building
of churches, and applauded the conduct of the Council of Ten, in
prosecuting the Ecclesiastic.
The authors of the age arranged themselves on the one side, or the
other, and this became a war of controversy; in which, though there was
no blood shed, yet it appeared, by the writings of the partisans, that
a considerable number of understandings were greatly injured. Those who
supported the Pope’s cause insisted, that the temporal power of Princes
is subordinate to his; that he has a right to deprive them of their
dominions, and release their subjects from their oaths of fidelity, as
often as this shall be for the glory of God, and for the good of the
Church; of which nobody could be so good a judge as the Pope, since all
the world knew he was infallible; that ecclesiastics were not subjected
to the civil power; that an ecclesiastical court, or the Pope, only, had
authority over that body of men; and nothing could be more abominable,
than to continue a prosecution against a prisoner, whatever his crimes
might be, after the Father of the church, who had the undoubted power of
absolving sinners, had interfered in his favour.
The Senate, in their answers, acknowledged, that the Pope was supreme
head of the Church, and that, in all subjects of religious belief,
his power was unbounded; for which reason they remained implicit and
submissive believers; that they were far from disputing the infallibility
of his Holiness in ecclesiastical matters, particularly within his own
dominions; but, with regard to the government of their subjects, they
would certainly take the whole trouble of that on themselves, and would
administer as impartial justice to Ecclesiastics, as to those of other
professions. They imagined also, that they were competent judges when,
and for what purposes, they ought to levy money upon their own subjects,
and whether it would be necessary to build any new churches in Venice, or
not. Finally, they flattered themselves, that the prosecuting a murderer
was no way inconsistent with the glory of God.
The greater number of the Princes of Christendom seemed to think the
Senate were in the right. The Pope was disappointed in his expectations;
and finding himself unsupported, was glad to shelter his pride under the
mediation of Henry the Fourth of France, who endeavoured to give his
Holiness’s defeat the appearance of victory.