THE DELIVERER.
It was in this age of disorder and anarchy that a child was born, of
the humblest parentage, on the bank of the Tiber, in an out-of-the-way
suburb, who was destined to become the hero of one of the strangest
episodes of modern history. His father kept a little tavern to which
the Roman burghers, pushing their walk a little beyond the walls,
would naturally resort; his mother, a laundress and water-carrier--one
of those women who, with the port of a classical princess, balance on
their heads in perfect poise and certainty the great copper vases
which are still used for that purpose. It was the gossip of the time
that Maddalena, the wife of Lorenzo, had not been without adventures
in her youth. No less a person than Henry VII. had found shelter, it
was said, in her little public-house when her husband was absent. He
was in the dress of a pilgrim, but no doubt bore the mien of a gallant
gentleman and dazzled the eyes of the young landlady, who had no one
to protect her. When her son was a man it pleased him to suppose that
from this meeting resulted the strange mixture of democratic
enthusiasm and love of pomp and power which was in his own nature. It
was not much to be proud of, and yet he was proud of it. For all the
world he was the son of the poor innkeeper, but within himself he felt
the blood of an Emperor in his veins. Maddalena died young, and when
her son began to weave the visions which helped to shape his life, was
no longer there to clear her own reputation or to confirm him in his
dream.
These poor people had not so much as a surname to distinguish them.
The boy Niccola was Cola di Rienzo, Nicolas the son of Laurence, as he
is called in the Latin chronicles, according to that simplest of all
rules of nomenclature which has originated so many modern names. "He
was from his youth nourished on the milk of eloquence; a good
grammarian, a better rhetorician, a fine writer," says his biographer.
"Heavens, what a rapid reader he was! He made great use of Livy,
Seneca, Tully, and Valerius Maximus, and delighted much to tell forth
the magnificence of Julius Cæsar. All day long he studied the
sculptured marbles that lie around Rome. There was no one like him for
reading the ancient inscriptions. All the ancient writings he put in
choice Italian; the marbles he interpreted. How often did he cry out,
'Where are these good Romans? where is their high justice? might I but
have been born in their time?' He was a handsome man, and he adopted
the profession of a notary."
We are not told how or where Cola attained this knowledge. His father
was a vassal of the Colonna, and it is possible that some of the
barons coming and going may have been struck by the brilliant, eager
countenance of the innkeeper's son, and helped him to the not
extravagant amount of learning thus recorded. His own character, and
the energy and ambition so strangely mingled with imagination and the
visionary temperament of a poet, would seem to have at once separated
him from the humble world in which he was born. It is said by some
that his youth was spent out of Rome, and that he only returned when
about twenty, at the death of his father--a legend which would lend
some show of evidence to the suggestion of his doubtful birth: but his
biographer says nothing of this. It is also said that it was the death
of his brother, killed in some scuffle between the ever-contending
parties of Colonna and Orsini, which gave his mind the first impulse
towards the revolution which he accomplished in so remarkable a way.
"He pondered long," says his biographer, "of revenging the blood of
his brother; and long he pondered over the ill-governed city of Rome,
and how to set it right." But there is no definite record of his early
life until it suddenly flashes into light in the public service of the
city, and on an occasion of the greatest importance as well for
himself as for Rome.
This first public employment which discloses him at once to us was a
mission from the thirteen _Buoni homini_, sometimes called _Caporoni_,
the heads of the different districts of the city, to Pope Clement VI.
at Avignon, on the occasion of one of those temporary overturns of
government which occurred from time to time, always of the briefest
duration, but carrying on the traditions of the power of the people
from age to age. He was apparently what we should call the spokesman
of the deputation sent to explain the matter to the Pope, and to
secure, if possible, some attention on the part of the Curia to the
condition of the abandoned city.
"His eloquence was so great that Pope Clement was much
attracted towards him: the Pope much admired the fine style
of Cola, and desired to see him every day. Upon which Cola
spoke very freely and said that the Barons of Rome were
highway robbers, that they were consenting to murder,
robbery, adultery, and every evil. He said that the city
lay desolate, and the Pope began to entertain a very bad
opinion of the Barons."
"But," adds the chronicler, "by means of Messer Giovanni of the
Colonna, Cardinal, great misfortunes happened to him, and he was
reduced to such poverty and sickness that he might as well have been
sent to the hospital. He lay like a snake in the sun. But he who had
cast him down, the very same person raised him up again. Messer
Giovanni brought him again before the Pope and had him restored to
favour. And having thus been restored to grace he was made notary of
the Cammora in Rome, so that he returned with great joy to the city."
This succinct narrative will perhaps be a little more clear if
slightly expanded: the chief object of the Roman envoy was to disclose
the crimes of the "barons," whose true character Cola thus described
to the Pope, on the part of the leaders of a sudden revolt, a sort of
prophetical anticipation of his own, which had seized the power out of
the hands of the two Senators and conferred it upon thirteen _Buoni
homini_, heads of the people, who took the charge in the name of the
Pope and professed, as was usual in its absence, an almost extravagant
devotion to the Papal authority. The embassy was specially charged
with the prayers and entreaties of the people that the Pope would
return and resume the government of the city: and also that he would
proclaim another jubilee--the great festival, accompanied by every
kind of indulgence and pious promise to the pilgrims, attracted by it
from all the ends of the earth to Rome--which had been first
instituted by Pope Boniface VIII. in 1300 with the intention of being
repeated once every century only. But a century is a long time; and
the jubilee was most profitable, bringing much money and many gifts
both to the State and the Church. The citizens were therefore very
anxious to secure its repetition in 1350, and its future celebration
every fifty years. The Pope graciously accorded the jubilee to the
prayers of the Romans, and accepted their homage and desire for his
return, promising vaguely that he would do so in the jubilee year if
not before. So that whatever afterwards happened to the secretary or
spokesman, the object of the mission was attained.
Elated by this fulfilment of their wishes, and evidently at the moment
of his highest favour with the Pope, Cola sent a letter announcing
this success to the authorities in Rome, which is the first word we
hear from his own mouth. It is dated from Avignon, in the year 1343.
He was then about thirty, in the full ardour of young manhood, full of
visionary hopes and schemes for the restoration of the glories of
Rome. The style of the letter, which was so much admired in those
days, is too florid and ornate for the taste of a severer period,
notwithstanding that his composition received the applause of
Petrarch, and was much admired by all his contemporaries. He begins by
describing himself as the "consul of orphans, widows and the poor, and
the humble messenger of the people."
"Let your mountains tremble with happiness, let your hills
clothe themselves with joy, and peace and gladness fill the
valleys. Let the city arise from her long course of
misfortunes, let her re-ascend the throne of her ancient
magnificence, let her throw aside the weeds of widowhood
and clothe herself with the garments of a bride. For the
heavens have been opened to us and from the glory of the
Heavenly Father has issued the light of Jesus Christ, from
which shines forth that of the Holy Spirit. Now that the
Lord has done this miracle, brethren beloved, see that you
clear out of your city the thorns and the roots of vice, to
receive with the perfume of new virtue the Bridegroom who
is coming. We exhort you with burning tears, with tears of
joy, to put aside the sword, to extinguish the flames of
battle, to receive these divine gifts with a heart full of
purity and gratitude, to glorify with songs and
thanksgiving the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, and also to
give humble thanks to His Vicar, and to raise to that
supreme Pontiff, in the Capitol or in the amphitheatre, a
statue adorned with purple and gold that the joyous and
glorious recollection may endure for ever. Who indeed has
adorned his country with such glory among the Ciceros, the
Cæsars, Metullus, or Fabius, who are celebrated as
liberators in our old annals and whose statues we adorn
with precious stones because of their virtues? These men
have obtained passing triumphs by war, by the calamities of
the world, by the shedding of blood: but he, by our prayers
and for the life, the salvation and the joy of all, has won
in our eyes and in those of posterity an immortal triumph."
[Illustration: THEATRE OF MARCELLUS.
_To face page 406._]
It is like enough that these extravagant phrases expressed an
exultation which was sufficiently genuine and sincere, for while he
was absent the city of Rome desired and longed for its Pope, although
when present it might do everything in its power to shake off his
yoke. And Cola the ambassador, in whose mind as yet his own great
scheme had not taken shape, might well believe that the gracious Pope
who flattered him by such attention, who admitted him so freely to his
august presence, and to whom he was as one who playeth very sweetly
upon an instrument, was the man of all men to bring back again from
anarchy and tumult the imperial city. He had even given up, it would
seem, his enthusiasm for the classic heroes in this moment of hope
from a more living and present source of help.
This elation however did not last. The Cardinal Giovanni Colonna, son
of old Stefano, the head of that great house, of whose magnificent old
age Petrarch speaks with so much enthusiasm, himself a man of many
accomplishments, a scholar and patron of the arts--and to crown all,
as has been said, the dear friend and patron of the poet--was one of
the most important members of the court at Avignon, when the
deputation from Rome, with that eloquent young plebeian as its
interpreter, appeared before the Pope. We may imagine that its first
great success, and the pleasure which the Pope took in the
conversation of Cola, must have happened during some temporary absence
of the Cardinal, whose interest in the affairs of his native city
would be undoubted. And it was natural that he should be a little
scornful of the ambassadors of the people, and of the orator who was
the son of Rienzo of the wine-shop, and very indignant at the account
given by the advocate of lo Popolo, of the barons and their behaviour.
The Colonna were, in fact, the least tyrannical of the tyrants; they
were the noblest of all the Roman houses, and no doubt the public
sentiment against the nobles in general might sometimes do a more
enlightened family wrong. Certainly it is hard to reconcile the
pictures of this house as given by Petrarch with the cruel tyranny of
which all the nobles were accused. This no doubt was the reason why,
after the triumph of that letter, the consent of the Pope to the
prayer of the citizens, and his interest in Cola's tale and
descriptions, the young orator fell under the shadow of courtly
displeasure, and after that intoxication of victory suffered all those
pangs of neglect which so often end the temporary triumph of a success
at court. The story is all vague, and we have no explanation why he
should have lingered on in Avignon, unless perhaps with hopes of
advancement founded on that evanescent favour, or perhaps in
consequence of his illness. There is a forlorn touch in the
description of the chronicler that "he lay like a snake in the sun,"
which is full of suggestion. The reader seems to see him hanging about
the precincts of the court under the stately walls of the vast Papal
palace, which now stands in gloomy greatness, absorbing all the light
out of the landscape. It was new then, and glorious like a heavenly
palace; and sick and sad, disappointed and discouraged, the young
envoy, lately so dazzled by the sunshine of favour, would no doubt
haunt the great doorway, seeking a sunny spot to keep himself warm,
and waiting upon Providence. Probably the Cardinal, sweeping out and
in, in his state, might perceive the young Roman fallen from his
temporary triumph, and be touched by pity for the orator who after all
had done no harm with his pleading; for was not Stefano Colonna again,
in spite of all, Senator of Rome? Let us hope that the companion at
his elbow, the poet who formed part of his household, and who probably
had heard, too, and admired, like Pope Clement, the _parole ornate_ of
the speaker, who, though so foolish as to assail with his eloquent
tongue the nobles of the land, need not after all be left to perish on
that account--was the person who pointed out to his patron the poor
fellow in his cloak, shivering in the mistral, that chill wind
unknown in the midlands of Italy. It is certain that Petrarch here
made Cola's acquaintance, and that Cardinal Colonna, remorseful to see
the misery he had caused, took trouble to have his young countryman
restored to favour, and procured him the appointment of Notary of the
city, with which Cola returned to Rome--"_fra i denti minacciava_,"
says his biographer, swearing between his teeth.
It was in 1344 that his promotion took place, and for some years after
Cola performed the duties of his office _cortesemente_, with courtesy,
the highest praise an Italian of his time could give. In this
occupation he had boundless opportunities of studying more closely the
system of government which had resumed its full sway under the old
familiar succession of Senators, generally a Colonna and an Orsini.
"He saw and knew," says the chronicler, himself growing vehement in
the excitement of the subject, "the robbery of those dogs of the
Capitol, the cruelty and injustice of those in power. In all the
commune he did not find one good citizen who would render help." It
would seem, though there is here little aid of dates, that he did not
act precipitately, but, probably with the hope of being able himself
to do something to remedy matters, kept silence while his heart
burned, as long as silence was possible. But the moment came when he
could do so no longer, and the little scene at the meeting of the
Cammora, the City Council, stands out as clearly before us as if it
had been a municipal assembly of the present day. We are not told what
special question was before the meeting which proved the last straw of
the burden of indignation and impatience which Cola at his table,
writing with the silver pen which he thought more worthy than a goose
quill for the dignity of his office, had to bear. (One wonders if he
was the inventor, without knowing it, of that little instrument, the
artificial pen of metal with which, chiefly, literature is
manufactured in our days? But silver is too soft and ductile to have
ever become popular, and though very suitable to pour forth those
mellifluous sentences in which the young spokesman of the Romans wrote
to his chiefs from Avignon, would scarcely answer for the sterner
purposes of the council to inscribe punishments or calculate fines
withal.) One day, however, sitting in his place, writing down the
decrees for those fines and penalties, sudden wrath seized upon the
young scribe who already had called himself the consul of widows and
orphans, and of the poor.
"One day during a discussion on the subject of the taxes of
Rome, he rose to his feet among all the Councillors and
said, 'You are not good citizens, you who suck the blood of
the poor and will not give them any help.' Then he
admonished the officials and the Rectors that they ought
rather to provide for the good government, _lo buono
stato_, of their city of Rome. When the impetuous address
of Cola di Rienzi was ended, one of the Colonna, who was
called Andreozzo di Normanno, the Camarlengo, got up and
struck him a ringing blow on the cheek: and another who was
the Secretary of the Senate, Tomma de Fortifiocca, mocked
him with an insulting sign. This was the end of their
talking."
We hear of no more remonstrances in the council. It is said that Cola
was not a brave man, though we have so many proofs of courage
afterwards that it is difficult to believe him to have been lacking in
this particular. At all events he went out from that selfish and
mocking assembly with his cheek tingling from the blow, and his heart
burning more and more, to ponder over other means of moving the
community and helping Rome.
The next incident opens up to us a curious world of surmise, and
suggests to the imagination much that is unknown, in the lower regions
of art, a crowd of secondary performers in that arena, the unknown
painters, the half-workmen, half-artists, who form a background
wherever a school of art exists. Cola perhaps may have had relations
with some of these half-developed artists, not sufficiently advanced
to paint an altar-piece, the scholars or lesser brethren of some
local _bottega_. There was little native art at any time in Rome. The
ancient and but dimly recorded work of the Cosimati, the only Roman
school, is lost in the mists, and was over and ended in the fourteenth
century. But there must have been some humble survival of trained
workmen capable at least of mural decorations if no more. Pondering
long how to reach the public, Cola seems to have bethought himself of
this humble instrument of art. As we do not hear before of any such
method of instructing the people, we may be allowed to suppose it was
his invention as well as the silver pen. His active brain was buzzing
with new things in every way, both great and small, and this was the
first device he hit upon. Even the poorest art must have been of use
in the absence of books for the illustration of sacred story and the
instruction of the ignorant, and it was at this kind of instantaneous
effect that Cola aimed. He had the confidence of the visionary that
the evil state of affairs needed only to be known to produce instant
reformation. The grievance over and over again insisted upon by his
biographer, and which was the burden of his outburst in the council,
was that "no one would help"--_non si trovava uno buon Cittatino, che
lo volesse adjutare_. Did they but know, the common people, how they
were oppressed, and the nobles what oppressors they were, it was
surely certain that every one would help, and that all would go right,
and the _buono stato_ be established once more.
Here is the strange way in which Cola for the first time publicly
"admonished the rectors and the people to do well, by a similitude."
"A similitude," says his biographer, "which he caused to be
painted on the palace of the Capitol in front of the
market, on the wall above the Cammora (Council Chamber).
Here was painted an allegory in the following form--namely,
a great sea with horrible waves, and much disturbed. In the
midst of this sea was a ship, almost wrecked, without helm
or sails. In this ship, in great peril, was a woman, a
widow, clothed in black, bound with a girdle of sadness,
her face disfigured, her hair floating wildly, as if she
would have wept. She was kneeling, her hands crossed,
beating her breast and ready to perish. The superscription
over her was _This is Rome_. Round this ship were four
other ships wrecked: their sails torn away, their oars
broken, their rudders lost. In each one was a woman
smothered and dead. The first was called Babylon; the
second Carthage; the third Troy; the fourth Jerusalem.
Written above was: _These cities by injustice perished and
came to nothing._ A label proceeding from the women dead
bore the lines:
'Once were we raised o'er lords and rulers all,
And now we wait, Oh Rome, to see thee fall.'
"On the left hand were two islands: on one of these was a
woman sitting shamefaced with an inscription over her _This
is Italy_. And she spoke and said:
'Once had'st thou power o'er every land,
I only now, thy sister, hold thy hand.'
"On the other island were four women, with their hands at
their throats, kneeling on their knees, in great sadness,
and speaking thus:
'By many virtues once accompanied
Thou on the sea goest now abandonëd.'
"These were the four Cardinal virtues, Temperance, Justice,
Prudence and Fortitude. On the other side was another
little isle, and on this islet was a woman kneeling, her
hands stretched out to heaven as if she prayed. She was
clothed in white and her name was Christian Faith: and this
is what her verse said:
'Oh noblest Father, lord and leader mine,
Where shall I be if Rome sink and decline?'
"Above on the right of the picture were four kinds of
winged creatures who breathed and blew upon the sea,
creating a storm and driving the sinking ship that it might
perish. The first order were Lions, Wolves, and Bears, and
were thus labelled: _These are the powerful Barons and the
wicked Officials_. The second order were Dogs, Pigs, and
Goats, and over them was written: _These are the evil
counsellors, the followers of the nobles_. The third order
were Sheep, Goats, and Foxes, and the label: _These are the
false officials, Judges and Notaries_. The fourth order
were Hares, Cats, and Monkeys, and their label: _These are
the People, Thieves, Murderers, Adulterers, and Spoilers of
Men_. Above was the sky: in the midst the Majesty Divine as
though coming to Judgment, two swords coming from His
mouth. On one side stood St. Peter, and on the other St.
Paul praying. When the people saw this similitude with
these figures every one marvelled."
Who painted this strange allegory, and how the work could be done in
secret, in such a public place, so as to be suddenly revealed as a
surprise to the astonished crowd, we have no means of knowing. It
would be, no doubt, of the rudest art, probably such a scroll as
might be printed off in a hundred examples and pasted on the walls by
our readier methods, not much above the original drawings of our
pavements. We can imagine the simplicity of the symbolism, the
agitated sea in curved lines, the galleys dropping out of the picture,
the symbolical figures with their mottoes. The painting must have been
executed by the light of early dawn, or under cover of some license to
which Cola himself as an official had a right, perhaps behind the veil
of a scaffolding--put up on some pretence of necessary repairs: and
suddenly blazing forth upon the people in the brightness of the
morning, when the early life of Rome began again, and suitors and
litigants began to cluster on the great steps, each with his private
grievance, his lawsuit or complaint. What a sensation must that have
occasioned as gazer after gazer caught sight of the fresh colours
glowing on what was a blank wall the day before! The strange
inscriptions in their doggerel lines, mystic enough to pique every
intelligence, simple enough to be comprehensible by the crowd, would
be read by one and another to show their learning over the heads of
the multitude. How strange a thing, catching every eye! No doubt the
plan of it, so unusual an appeal to the popular understanding, was
Cola's; but who could the artist be who painted that "similitude"? Not
any one, we should suppose, who lived to make a name for himself--as
indeed, so far as we know, there were none such in Rome.
This pictorial instruction was for the poor: it placed before them
Rome, their city, for love of which they were always capable of being
roused to at least a temporary enthusiasm--struggling and unhappy,
cheated by those she most trusted, ravaged by small and great, in
danger of final and hopeless shipwreck. In all her ancient greatness,
the peer and sister of the splendid cities of the antique world, and
like them falling into a ruin which in her case might yet be avoided,
the suggestion was one which was admirably fitted to stir and move the
spectators, all of them proud of the name of Roman, and deeply
conscious of ill-government and suffering. This, however, was but one
side of the work which he had set himself to do. A short time after,
when his picture had become the subject of all tongues in Rome, Cola
the notary invited the nobles and notables of the city to meet in the
Church of St. John Lateran to hear him expound a certain inscription
there which had hitherto (we are told) baffled all interpreters. It
must be supposed that he stood high in the favour of the Church, and
of Raymond the Bishop of Orvieto, the Pope's representative, or he
would scarcely have been permitted to use the great basilica for such
a purpose.
The Church of the Lateran, however, as we know from various sources,
was in an almost ruined state, nearly roofless and probably, in
consequence, open to invasions of such a kind. Cola must have already
secured the attention of Rome in all circles, notwithstanding that box
on the ear with which Andreozzo of the Colonna had tried to silence
him. He was taken by some for a _burlatore_, a man who was a great
jest and out of whom much amusement could be got; and this was the
aspect in which he appeared to one portion of society, to the young
barons and gilded youth of Rome--a delusion to which he would seem to
have temporarily lent himself, in order to diffuse his doctrine; while
the more serious part of the aristocracy seem to have become curious
at least to hear what he had to say, and prescient of meanings in him
which it would be well to keep in order by better means than the
simple method of Andreozzo. The working of Cola's own mind it is less
easy to trace. His picture had been such an allegory as the age loved,
broad enough and simple enough at the same time to reach the common
level of understanding. When he addressed himself to the higher class,
it was with an instinctive sense of the difference, but without
perhaps a very clear perception what that difference was, or how to
bear himself before this novel audience. Perhaps he was right in
believing that a striking spectacle was the best thing to startle the
aristocrats into attention: perhaps he thought it well to take
advantage of the notion that Cola of Rienzo was more or less a
buffoon, and that a speech of his was likely to be amusing whatever
else it might be. The dress which his biographer describes minutely,
and which had evidently been very carefully prepared, seems to favour
this idea.
"Not much time passed (after the exhibition of the picture)
before he admonished the people by a fine sermon in the
vulgar tongue, which he made in St. John Lateran. On the
wall behind the choir, he had fixed a great and magnificent
plate of metal inscribed with ancient letters, which none
could read or interpret except he alone. Round this tablet
he had caused several figures to be painted which
represented the Senate of Rome conceding the authority over
the city to the Emperor Vespasian. In the midst of the
Church was erected a platform (_un parlatorio_) with seats
upon it, covered with carpets and curtains--and upon this
were gathered many great personages, among whom were
Stefano Colonna, and Giovanni Colonna his son, who were the
greatest and most magnificent in the city. There were also
many wise and learned men, Judges and Decretalists, and
many persons of authority. Cola di Rienzo came upon the
stage among these great people. He was dressed in a tunic
and cape after the German fashion, with a hood up to his
throat in fine white cloth, and a little white cap on his
head. On the round of his cap were crowns of gold, the one
in the front being divided by a sword made in silver, the
point of which was stuck through the crown. He came out
very boldly, and when silence was procured he made a fine
sermon with many beautiful words, and said that Rome was
beaten down and lay on the ground, and could not see where
she lay, for her eyes were torn out of her head. Her eyes
were the Pope and the Emperor, both of whom Rome had lost
by the wickedness of her citizens. Then he said (pointing
to the pictured figures), 'Behold, what was the
magnificence of the Senate when it gave the authority to
the Emperor.' He then read a paper in which was written the
interpretation of the inscription, which was the act by
which the imperial power was given by the people of Rome to
Vespasian. Firstly that Vespasian should have the power to
make good laws, and to make alliances with any whom he
pleased, and that he should be entitled to increase or
diminish the _garden of Rome_, that is Italy: and that he
should give accounts less or more as he would. He might
also raise men to be dukes and kings, put them up or pull
them down, destroy or rebuild cities, divert rivers out of
their beds to flow in another channel, put on taxes or
abolish them at his pleasure. All these things the Romans
gave to Vespasian according to their Charter to which
Tiberius Cæsar consented. He then put aside that paper and
said, 'Sirs, such was the majesty of the people of Rome
that it was they who conferred this authority upon the
Emperor. Now they have lost it altogether.' Then he entered
more fully into the question and said, 'Romans, you do not
live in peace: your lands are not cultivated. The Jubilee
is approaching and you have no provision of grain or food
for the people who are coming, who will find themselves
unprovided for, and who will take up stones in the rage of
their hunger: but neither will the stones be enough for
such a multitude.' Then concluding he added: 'I pray you
keep the peace.' Then he said this parable: 'Sirs, I know
that many people make a mock at me for what I do and say.
And why? For envy. But I thank God there are three things
which consume the slanderers. The first luxury, the second
jealousy, the third envy.' When he had ended the sermon and
come down, he was much lauded by the people."
The inscription thus set before the people was the bronze table,
called the Lex Regia. Why it was that no one had been able to
interpret it up to that moment we are not told. Learning was at a very
low ebb, and the importance of such great documents whether in metal
or parchment was as yet but little recognised. This was evidently one
of the results of Cola's studies of the old inscriptions of which we
are told in the earliest chapter of his career. It had formed part of
an altar in the Lateran Church, being placed there as a handy thing
for the purpose in apparent ignorance of any better use for it, by
Pope Boniface VIII. when he restored the church. No doubt some of the
feeble reparations that were going on had brought the storied stone
under Cola's notice, and he had interest enough to have it removed
from so inappropriate a place. It is now let into the wall in the Hall
of the Faun on the Capitol.
We have here an instance not only of the exaltation of Cola's mind and
thoughts, imaginative and ardent, and his possession by the one idea
of Roman greatness, but also of his privileges and power at this
moment, before he had as yet struck a blow or made a step towards his
future position. That he should have been allowed to displace the
tablet from the altar (which however may have been done in the course
of the repairs) to set it up in that conspicuous position, and to use
the church, he a layman and a plebeian, for his own objects, testifies
to very strong support and privilege. The influence of the Pope must
have been at his back, and the resources of the Church thrown open to
him. Neither his audacious speech nor his constant denunciation of
barons and officials seem to have been attended by the risks we should
have expected. Either the authorities must have been very magnanimous,
or he was well protected by some power they did not choose to
encounter. Some doubt as to his sanity or his seriousness seems to
have existed among them. Giovanni Colonna, familiarly Janni, grandson
of old Stefano, a brilliant young gallant likely to grow into a fine
soldier, the hope of the house, invited him constantly to
entertainments where all the gilded youth of Rome gathered as to a
play to hear him talk. When he said, "I shall be a great lord, perhaps
even emperor," the youths gave vent to shouts of laughter. "All the
barons were full of it, some encouraging him, some disposed to cut off
his head. But nothing was done to him. How many things he prophesied
about the state of the city, and the generous rule it required!" Rome
listened and was excited or amused according to its mood, but nothing
was done either to conform that rule to his demands or to stop the
bold reformer.
By this time it had become the passion of his life, and the occupation
of all his leisure. He could think of nothing but how to persuade the
people, how to make their condition clear to them. Once more his
painter friends, the journeymen of the _bottega_, whoever they were,
came to his aid and painted him again a picture, this time on the wall
of St. Angelo in Pescheria, which we may suppose to have been Cola's
parish church, as it continually appears in the narrative--where once
more they set forth in ever bolder symbolism the condition of Rome.
Again she was represented as an aged woman, this time in the midst of
a great conflagration, half consumed, but watched over by an angel in
all the glories of white attire and flaming sword, ready to rescue her
from the flames, under the superintendence of St. Peter and St. Paul
who looked on from a tower, calling to the angel to "succour her who
gave shelter to us"; while a white dove fluttered down from the skies
with a crown of myrtle to be placed upon the head of the woman, and
the legend bore "I see the time of the great justice--and thou, wait
for it." Once more the crowd collected, the picture was discussed and
what it meant questioned and expounded. There were some who shook
their heads and said that more was wanted than pictures to amend the
state of affairs; but it may easily be supposed that as these
successive allegories were represented before them, in a language
which every one could understand, the feeling grew, and that there
would be little else talked about in Rome but those strange writings
on the walls and what their meanings were. The picture given by Lord
Lytton in his novel of _Rienzi_, of this agitated moment of history,
is very faithful to the facts, and gives a most animated description
of the scenes; though in the latter part of his story he prefers
romance to history.
All these incidents however open to our eyes side glimpses of the
other Rome underneath the surface, which was occupied by contending
nobles and magnificent houses, and all the little events and
picturesque episodes with which a predominant aristocracy amused the
world. If Mr. Browning had expounded Rome once more on a graver
subject, as he did once in _The Ring and the Book_, what groups he
might have set before us! The painters who had as yet produced no one
known to fame, but who, always impressionable, would be agitated
through all the depths of their workshops by the breath of revolution,
the hope of something fine to come, would have taken up a portion of
the foreground: for with the withdrawal of the Pope and the court,
the occupation of a body of artist workmen, good for little more than
decoration, ecclesiastical or domestic, must have suffered greatly:
and none can be more easily touched by the agitation of new and
aspiring thought than men whose very trade requires a certain touch of
inspiration, a stimulus of fancy. No doubt in the studios there were
many young men who had grown up with Cola, who had hung upon his
impassioned talk before it was known to the world, and heard his vague
and exalted schemes for Rome, for the renovation of all her ancient
glories, not forgetting new magnificences of sculpture and of painting
worthy of the renovated city, the mistress of the world. Their eager
talk and discussions, their knowledge of his ways and thoughts, the
old inscriptions he had shown them, the new hopes which he had
described in his glowing language, must have filled with excitement
all those _bottegas_, perched among the ruins, those workshops planned
out of abandoned palaces, the haunt of the Roman youth who were not
gentlemen but workmen, and to whom Janni Colonna and his laughing
companions, who thought Cola so great a jest in his mad brilliancy,
were magnificent young patrons half admired, half abhorred. How great
a pride it must have been to be taken into Cola's confidence, to
reduce to the laws of possible representation those "similitudes" of
his, the stormy sea with its galleys and its islets, the blaze of the
fatal fire: and to hurry out by dawn, a whole band of them, in all the
delight of conspiracy, to dash forth the joint conception on the wall,
and help him to read his lesson to the people!
And Browning would have found another Rome still to illustrate in the
priests, the humbler clergy, the curé of St. Angelo in the Fishmarket,
and so many more, of the people yet over the people, the humble
churchmen with their little learning, just enough to understand a
classical name or allusion, some of whom must have helped Cola himself
to his Latin, and pored with him over his inscriptions, and taken
fire from his enthusiasm as a mind half trained, without the
limitations that come with completer knowledge, is apt to do--feeling
everything to be possible and ignoring the difficulties and inevitable
disasters of revolution. The great ideal of the Church always hovering
in the air before the visionary priest, and the evident and simple
reason why it failed in this case from the absence of the Pope, and
the widowhood of the city, must have so tempered the classical
symbolism of the leader as to make his dreams seem possible to men so
little knowing the reality of things, and so confident that with the
strength of their devotion and the purity of their aims everything
could be accomplished. To such minds the possible and impossible have
no existence, the world itself is such a thing as dreams are made of,
and the complete reformation of all things, the heavens and the earth
in which shall dwell righteousness, are always attainable and near at
hand, if only the effort to reach them were strong enough, and the
minds of the oppressed properly enlightened. No one has sufficiently
set forth, though many have essayed to do so, this loftiness of human
futility, this wild faith of inexperience and partial ignorance, which
indeed sometimes does for a moment at least carry everything before it
in the frenzy of enthusiasm and faith.
On the other side were Janni Colonna and his comrades, the young
Savelli, Gaetani, all the gallant band, careless of all things, secure
in their nobility, in that easy confidence of rank and birth which is
perhaps the most picturesque of all circumstances, and one of the most
exhilarating, making its possessor certain above all logic that for
him the sun shines and the world goes round. There were all varieties
among these young nobles as among other classes of men; some were
_bons princes_, careless but not unthoughtful in any cruel way of
others, if only they could be made to understand that their triumphant
career was anyhow hurtful of others--a difficult thing always to
realise. The Colonnas apart from their feuds and conflicts were
generally _bons princes_. They were not a race of oppressors; they
loved the arts and petted their special poet, who happened at that
moment to be the great poet of Italy, and no doubt admired the
eloquent Cola and were delighted with his discourses and sallies,
though they might find a spice of ridicule in them, as when he said he
was to be a great seigneur or even emperor. That was his jest, could
not one see the twinkle in his eye? And probably old Stefano, the
noble grandsire, would smile too as he heard the laughter of the boys,
and think not unkindly of the mad notary with his enthusiasms, which
would no doubt soon enough be quenched out of him, as was the case
with most men when experience came with years to correct those not
ungenerous follies of youth. The great churchmen would seem to have
been still more tolerant to Cola--glad to find this unexpected
auxiliary who helped to hold the balance in favour of the Pope, and
keep the nobles in check.
In the meantime Cola proceeded with his warnings, and by and by with
more strenuous preparation. We come to a date fortunately when we read
of a sudden issue of potent words which came forth like the
handwriting on the wall one morning, on February 15th, 1347. "In a
short time the Romans shall return to their ancient good government."
_In brievo tempo_--the actual sonorous words sounding forth large and
noble like flute and trumpet in our ear, are worth quoting for the
sound if no more: _In brievo tempo I Romani tornaraco a lo loro antico
buono stato_. What a thrill of excitement to turn round a sudden
corner and find this facing you on the church wall, words that were
not there yesterday! _Lo antico buono stato!_ the most skilful
watchword, which thereafter became the special symbol of the new
reformation. It is after this that we hear of the gathering of a
little secret assembly in some quiet spot on the Aventine, "a secret
place"--where on some privately arranged occasion there came serious
men from all parts of the city, "many Romans of importance and _buoni
homini_," which was the title, as we have seen, given to the popular
leaders. "And among them were some of the gentry (_cavalerotti_) and
rich merchants"--to consider what could be done to restore the good
government (_lo buono stato_) of the city of Rome.
"Among whom Cola rose to his feet, and narrated, weeping,
the misery, servitude and peril in which lay the city. And
also what once was the great and lordly state which the
Romans were wont to enjoy. He also spoke of the loss of all
the surrounding country which had once been in subjection
to Rome. And all this he related with tears, the whole
assembly weeping with him. Then he concluded and said that
it behoved them to serve the cause of peace and justice,
and consoled them adding: 'Be not afraid in respect to
money, for the Roman Cammora has much and inestimable
returns.' In the first place the fires: each smoke paying
four soldi, from Cepranno to the Porta della Paglia. This
amounts to a hundred thousand florins. From the salt tax a
hundred thousand florins. Then come the gates of Rome and
the castles, and the dues there amount to a hundred
thousand florins which is sent to his Holiness the Pope,
and that his Vicar knows. Then he said, 'Sirs, do not
believe that it is by the consent or will of the Pope that
so many of the citizens lay violent hands on the goods of
the Church.' By these parables the souls of the assembly
were kindled. And many other things he said weeping. Then
they deliberated how to restore the Buono Stato. And every
one swore this upon the Holy Gospels--(in the Italian 'in
the letter,' by a recorded act)."
It appears very probable by the allusion to the Pope's Vicar that he
was present at this secret assembly. At all events he was informed of
all that was done, and took part in the first overt act of the
revolution. To give fuller warrant for these secret plans and
conspiracies, the state of the city went on growing worse every day.
The two parties, that of Colonna, and that of Orsini, so balanced each
other, the one availing itself of every incident which could discredit
and put at a disadvantage the other, that justice and law were brought
to a standstill, every criminal finding a protector on one side or the
other, and every kind of rapine and violence going unpunished. "The
city was in great travail," our chronicler says, "it had no lord,
murder and robbery went on on every side. Women were not safe either
in convents or in their own houses. The labourer was robbed as he came
back from his work, and even children were outraged; and all this
within the gates of Rome. The pilgrims making their way to the shrines
of the Apostles were robbed and often murdered. The priests themselves
were ready for every evil. Every wickedness flourished: there was no
justice, no restraint: and neither was there any remedy for this state
of things. He only was in the right who could prove himself so with
the sword." All that the unfortunate people could do was to band
themselves together and fight, each for his own cause.
In the month of April of the year 1347 this state of anarchy was at
its height. Stefano Colonna had gone to Corneto for provisions, taking
with him all the _milice_, the Garde Nationale or municipal police of
Rome. Deprived even of this feeble support and without any means of
keeping order, the Senators, Agapito Colonna and Robert Orsini,
remained as helpless to subdue any rising as they were to regulate the
internal affairs of the city. The conspirators naturally took
advantage of this opportunity. They sent a town crier with sound of
trumpet to call all men to prepare to come without arms to the
Capitol, to the Buono Stato at the sound of the great bell. During the
night Cola would seem to have kept vigil--it was the eve of
Pentecost--in the Church of St. Angelo in Pescheria hearing "thirty
masses of the Holy Ghost," says the chronicler, spending the night in
devotion as we should say. At the hour of tierce, in the early
morning, he came out of Church, having thus invoked with the greatest
solemnity the aid of God. It was the 20th of May, a summer festival,
when all Rome is glorious with sunshine, and the orange blossoms and
the roses from every garden fill the air with sweetness. He was fully
armed except his head, which was bare. A multitude of youths encircled
him with sudden shouts and cheering, breaking the morning quiet, and
startling the churchgoers hastening to an early mass, who must have
stood gaping to see one banner after another roll out between them and
the sky, issuing from the church doors. The first was red with letters
of gold, painted with a figure of Rome seated on two lions, carrying
an orb, and a palm in her hands--"un Mundo e una Palma"--signs of her
universal sovereignty. "This was the Gonfalon of Liberty"--and it was
carried by Cola Guallato distinguished as "Lo buon dicitore"--another
orator like Rienzi himself. The second was white with an image of St.
Paul, on the third was St. Peter and his keys. This last was carried
by an old knight who, because he was a veteran, was conveyed in a
carriage. By this time the great bell of the Capitol was ringing and
the men who had been invited were hurrying there through all the
streets. "Then Cola di Rienzo took all his courage, though not without
fear, and went on alone with the Vicar of the Pope and went up to the
Palace of the Capitol." There he addressed the crowd, making a
_bellissima diceria_ upon the misery and anarchy in Rome, saying that
he risked his life for the love of the Pope and the salvation of the
people. The reader can almost hear the suppressed quiver of excitement
"not without fear" in his voice. And then the rules of the Buono Stato
were read. They were very simple but very thorough. The first was that
whoever murdered a man should die for it, without any exception. The
second that every case heard before the judges should be concluded
within fifteen days; the third that no house should be destroyed for
any reason, except by order of the authorities. The fourth that every
_rione_ or district of the city should have its force of defenders,
twenty-four horsemen and a hundred on foot, paid by and under the
order of the State. Further, that a ship should be kept for the
special protection of the merchants on the coast; that taxes were
necessary and should be spent by the officers of the Buono Stato; that
the bridges, castles, gates and fortresses should be held by no man
except the rector of the people, and should never be allowed to pass
into the hands of a baron: that the barons should be set to secure the
safety of the roads to Rome and should not protect robbers, under a
penalty of a thousand marks of silver:--that the Commune should give
help in money to the convents; that each _rione_ should have its
granary and provide a reserve there for evil times; that the kin of
every man slain in battle in the cause of the Commune should have a
recompense according to their degree:--that the ancient States subject
to Rome should be restored; and that whoever brought an accusation
against a man which could not be proved should suffer the penalty
belonging to the offence if it had been proved. This and various other
regulations which pleased the people much were read, and passed
unanimously by a show of hands and great rejoicing. "And it was also
ordained that Cola should remain there as lord, but in conjunction
with the Vicar of the Pope. And authority was given to him to punish,
slay, pardon, to make laws and alliances, determine boundaries; and
full and free _imperia_, absolute power, was given him in everything
that concerned the people of Rome."
Thus was Cola's brag which so much amused the young lords made true
over all their heads before many weeks were past. He had said that he
would be a great lord, as powerful as an emperor. And so he was.
[Illustration: THE LUNGARA.]