THE BUONO STATO.
The first incident in this new reign, so suddenly inaugurated, was a
startling one. Stefano Colonna was the father of all the band--he of
whom Petrarch speaks with such enthusiasm: "_Dio immortale!_ what
majesty in his aspect, what a voice, what a look, what nobility in his
air, what vigour of soul and body at that age of his! I seemed to
stand before Julius Cæsar or Africanus, if not that he was older than
either. Wonderful to say, this man never grows old, while Rome is
older and older every day." He was absent from Rome, as has been said,
on the occasion of the wonderful overthrow of all previous rule, and
establishment of the Buono Stato; but as soon as he heard what had
happened, he hastened back, with but few followers, never doubting
that he would soon make an end of that mountebank revolution. Early in
the following morning he received from Cola a copy of the edict made
on the Capitol and an order to leave Rome at once. Stefano took the
paper and tore it in a thousand pieces. "If this fool makes me angry,"
he said, "I will fling him from the windows of the Capitol." When this
was reported to Cola, he caused the bell of the Capitol to be sounded
_a stuormo_, and the people rushed from all quarters to the call.
Everything went rapidly at this moment of fate, and even the brave
Colonna seems to have changed his mind in the twinkling of an eye. The
aspect of affairs was so threatening that Stefano took the better part
of valour and rode off at once with a single attendant, stopping only
at San Lorenzo to eat, and pushing on to Palestrina, which was his
chief seat and possession. Cola took instant advantage of this
occurrence: with the sanction of the excited people, he sent a similar
order to that which Stefano had received, to all the other barons,
ordering them to leave the city. Strange to say the order of the
popular leader was at once obeyed. Perhaps no one ventured to stand
after the head of the Roman chivalry had fled. These gallant cavaliers
yielded to the _Pazzo_, the madman, with whom the head of the Colonnas
had expected to make such short work, without striking a blow, in a
panic sudden and complete. Next day all the bridges were given up and
officials of the people set over them. "One was served in one way,
another in another--these were banished and those had their heads cut
off without mercy. The wicked were all judged cruelly." Afterwards
another _Parlamento_ was held on the Capitol, and all that had been
done approved and confirmed--and the people with one voice declared
Cola, and with him the Pope's Vicar, who had a share in all these
wonderful proceedings, Tribunes of the People and Liberators.
There would seem after this alarmed dispersion of the nobles to have
been some attempt on their part to regain the upper hand, which failed
as they could not agree among themselves: upon which they received
another call from Cola to appear in the Capitol and swear to uphold
the Buono Stato. One by one the alarmed nobles came in. The first was
Stefanello Colonna, the son of the old man, the first of his children
after the two ecclesiastics, and heir of his influence and lands. Then
came Ranello degli Orsini, then Janni Colonna, he who had invited Cola
to dinner and laughed loud and long with his comrades over the
buffoonery of the orator. What Cola said was no longer a merry jest.
Then came Giordano of the same name, then Messer Stefano himself, the
fine old man, the magnanimous--bewildered by his own unexpected
submission yet perhaps touched with some sense of the justice there
was in it, swearing upon the Evangels to be faithful to the Commune,
and to busy himself with his own share of the work: how to clear the
roads, and turn away the robbers, to protect the orphans and the poor.
The nobles gazed around them at the gathering crowd; they were daunted
by all they saw, and one by one they took the oaths. One of the last
was Francesco Savelli, who was the proper lord of Cola di Rienzo, his
master--yet took the oath of allegiance to him, his own retainer. It
was such a wonder as had never been seen. But everything was
wonderful--the determination of the people, the Pope's Vicar by the
side of that mad Tribune, the authority in Cola's eyes, and in his
eloquent voice.
There must, however, have been a strong sense of the theatrical in the
man. As he had at first appealed to the people by visible allegories,
by pictures and similitudes, he kept up their interest now by
continual spectacles. He studied his dress, as we have already seen,
on all occasions, always aiming at something which would strike the
eye. His robe of office was "of a fiery colour as if it had been
scarlet." "His face and his aspect were terrible." He showed mercy to
no criminal, but exercised freely his privilege of life and death
without respect of persons. A monk of San Anastasio, who was a person
of infamous conduct, was beheaded like any other offender; and a still
greater, Martino di Porto, head of one of the great houses, met the
same fate. Sometimes, his biographers allow, Cola was cruel. He would
seem to have been a man of nervous courage "not without fear"; very
keenly alive to the risk he was running and not incapable, as was
afterwards proved, of a sudden panic, as quickly roused as his flash
of excessive valour. In one mood he was pushed by the passion of the
absolute to rash proceedings, sudden vengeance, which suited well
enough with the instincts of his followers; in another his courage was
apt to sink and his composure to fail at the first frown of fortune.
The beginning of his career is like that of a man inspired--what he
determined on was carried out as if by magic. He seemed to have only
to ordain and it was accomplished. Within a very short time the courts
of law, the markets, the public life in Rome were all transformed. The
barons, unwilling as they were, must have done their appointed work,
for the roads all at once became safe, and the disused processes of
lawful life were resumed. "The woods rejoiced, for there were no
longer robbers in them. The oxen began to plough. The pilgrims began
again to make their circuits to the Sanctuaries, the merchants to come
and go, to pursue their business. Fear and terror fell on the tyrants,
and all good people, as freed from bondage, were full of joy." The
bravos, the highwaymen, all the ill-doers who had kept the city and
its environs in terror fled in their turn, finding no protectors, nor
any shelter that could save them from the prompt and ready sword of
justice. Refinements even of theoretical benevolence were in Cola's
courts of law. There were Peacemakers to hear the pleas of men injured
by their neighbours and bring them, if possible, into accord. Here is
one very curious scene: the law of compensations, by which an injury
done should be repaid in kind, being in full force.
"It happened that one man had blinded the eye of another;
the prosecutors came and their case was tried on the steps
of the Capitol. The culprit was kneeling there, weeping,
and praying God to forgive him when the injured person came
forward. The malefactor then raised his face that his eye
might be blinded, if so it was ordained. But the other was
moved with pity, and would not touch his eye, but forgave
him the injury."
No doubt the ancient doctrine of an eye for an eye, has in all times
been thus tempered with mercy.
It would appear that Cola now lived in the Capitol as his palace; and
he gradually began to surround himself with all the insignia of rank.
This was part of his plan from the beginning, for, as has been said,
he lost no opportunity of an effective appearance, either from a
natural inclination that way, or from a wise appreciation of the
tastes of the crowd, which he had such perfect acquaintance with. But
there was nothing histrionic in the immediate results of his new
reign. That he should have styled himself in all his public documents,
letters and laws, "Nicholas, severe and clement, Tribune of peace,
freedom, and justice, illustrious Liberator of the holy Roman
Republic," may have too much resembled the braggadocio which is so
displeasing to our colder temperaments; but Cola was no Englishman,
neither was he of the nineteenth century: and there was something
large and harmonious, a swing of words such as the Italian loves, a
combination of the Brutus and the Christian, in the conjunction of
these qualities which recommends itself to the imaginative ear. But
however his scarlet robes and his inflated self-description may be
objected to, nothing could mar the greatness of the moral revolution
he effected in a city restored to peace and all the innocent habits of
life, and a country tranquillised and made safe, where men came and
went unmolested. Six years before, as we have noted, Petrarch, the
hero of the moment, was stopped by robbers just outside the walls of
Rome, and had to fly back to the city to get an armed escort before he
could pursue his way. "The shepherd armed," he says, "watches his
sheep, afraid of robbers more than of wolves; the ploughman wears a
shirt of mail and goads his oxen with a lance. There is no safety, no
peace, no humanity among the inhabitants, but only war, hate, and the
work of devils."
Such was the condition of affairs when Cola came to power. In a month
or two after that sudden overturn his messengers, unarmed, clothed,
some say, in white with the scarcella at their girdle embroidered with
the arms of Rome, and bearing for all defence a white wand, travelled
freely by all the roads from Rome, unmolested, received everywhere
with joy. "I have carried this wand," says one of them, "over all the
country and through the forests. Thousands have knelt before it and
kissed it with tears of joy for the safety of the roads and the
banishment of the robbers." The effect is still as picturesque as eye
of artist could desire; the white figures with their wands of peace
traversing everywhere those long levels of the Campagna, where every
knot of brushwood, all the coverts of the _macchia_ and every
fortification by the way, had swarmed with robber bands--unharmed,
unafraid, like angels of safety in the perturbed country. But it was
none the less real, an immense and extraordinary revolution. The Buono
Stato was proclaimed on the day of Pentecost, Whit Sunday, May 20th,
1347: and in the month of June following, Cola was able to inform the
world--that is to say, all Italy and the Pope and the Emperor--that
the roads were safe and everything going well. Clement VI. received
this report at Avignon and replied to it, giving his sanction to what
had been done, "seeing that the new constitution had been established
without violence or bloodshed," and confirming the authority of Cola
and of his bishop and co-tribune, in letters dated the 27th of June.
Nor was the change within the city less great. The dues levied by
their previous holders on every bridge, on all merchandise and every
passer-by, were either turned into a modest octroi, or abolished
altogether; every man's goods were safe in his house; the women were
free to go about their various occupations, the wife safe in the
solitude of her home, in her husband's absence at his work, the girls
at their sewing--in itself a revolution past counting. Rome began to
breathe again and realise that her evil times were over, and that the
Buono Stato meant comfort as well as justice. The new Tribune made
glorious sights, too, for all bystanders in these June days. He rode
to Church, for example, in state on the feast of Santo Janni di
Jugnio, St. John the Baptist, the great Midsummer _festa_, a splendid
sight to behold.
"The first to come was a militia of armed men on horseback,
well dressed and adorned, to make way before the Præfect.
Then followed the officials, judges, notaries, peacemakers,
syndics, and others; followed by the four marshals with
their mounted escort. Then came Janni d'Allo carrying the
cup of silver gilt in which was the offering, after the
fashion of the Senators: who was followed by more soldiers
on horseback and the trumpeters, sounding their silver
trumpets, the silver mouths making an honest and
magnificent sound. Then came the public criers. All these
passed in silence. After came one man alone, bearing a
naked sword in sign of justice. Baccio, the son of Jubileo,
was he. Then followed a man scattering money on each side
all along the way, according to the custom of the Emperors:
Liello Magliari was his name--he was accompanied by two
persons carrying a sack of money. After this came the
Tribune, alone. He rode on a great charger, dressed in
silk, that is velvet, half green and half yellow, furred
with minever. In his right hand he carried a wand of steel,
polished and shining, surmounted by an apple of silver
gilt, and above the apple a cross of gold in which was a
fragment of the Holy Cross. On one side of this were
letters in enamel, 'Deus,' and on the other 'Spiritus
Sanctus.' Immediately after him came Cecco di Alasso,
carrying a banner after the mode of kings. The standard was
white with a sun of gold set round with silver stars on a
field of blue: and it was surmounted by a white dove,
bearing in its beak a crown of olive. On the right and left
came fifty vassals of Vetorchiano on foot with clubs in
their hands, like bears clothed and armed. Then followed a
crowd of people unarmed, the rich and the powerful,
counsellors, and many honest people. With such triumph and
glory came he to the bridge of San Pietro, where every one
saluted, the gates were thrown wide, and the road left
spacious and free. When he had reached the steps of San
Pietro all the clergy came forth to meet him in their
vestments and ornaments. With white robes, with crosses and
with great order, they came chanting _Veni Creator
Spiritus_, and so received him with much joy."
This is how Cola rode from the Capitol to St. Peter's, traversing
almost the whole of the existing city: his offering borne before him
after the manner of the Senators: money scattered among the people
after the manner of the Emperors: his banner carried as before kings:
united every great rank in one. _Panem et circenses_ were all the old
Roman populace had cared for. He gave them peace and safety and
beautiful processions and allegories to their hearts' content. There
were not signs wanting for those who divined them afterwards, that
with all this triumph and glory the Tribune began a little to lose his
self-restraint. He began to make feasts and great entertainments at
the Capitol. The palaces of the forfeited nobles were emptied of their
beautiful tapestries, and hangings, and furniture, to make the long
disused rooms there splendid; and the nobles were fined a hundred
florins each for repairs to this half-royal, half-ruinous abode,
making it glorious once more.
But in the meantime everything went well. One of the Colonnas, Pietro
of Agapito[6]--who ought to have been Senator for the year--was taken
and sent to prison, whether for that offence merely or some other we
are not told; while the rest of the house, with old Stefano at their
head, kept a stormy quiet at Palestrina, saying nothing as yet.
Answers to Cola's letters came from all the states around, in
congratulation and friendship, the Pope himself, as we have seen, at
the head of all. "All Italy was roused," says Petrarch. "The terror of
the Roman name extended even to countries far away. I was then in
France and I know what was expressed in the words and on the faces of
the most important personages there. Now that the needle has ceased to
prick, they may deny it; but then all were full of alarm, so great
still was the name of Rome. No one could tell how soon a movement so
remarkable, taking place in the first city of the world, might
penetrate into other places." The Soldan of Babylon himself, that
great potentate, hearing that a man of great justice had arisen in
Rome, called aloud upon Mahomet and Saint Elimason (whoever that might
be) to help Jerusalem, meaning Saracinia, our chronicler tells us.
Thus the sensation produced by Cola's revolution ran through the
world: and if after a while his mind lost something of its balance, it
is scarcely to be wondered at when we read the long and flattering
letters, some of which have been preserved, which Petrarch talks of
writing to him "every day": and in which he is proclaimed greater than
Romulus, whose city was small and surrounded with stakes only, while
that of Cola was great and defended by invincible walls: and than
Brutus who withstood one tyrant only, while Cola overthrew many: and
than Camillus, who repaired ruins still smoking and recent, while Cola
restored those which were ancient and inveterate almost beyond hope.
For one wonderful moment both friends and foes seem to have believed
that Rome had at one step recovered the empire of the world.
Cola had thus triumphed everywhere by peaceful methods, but he had yet
to prove what he could do in arms; and the opportunity soon occurred.
The only one of the nobles who had not yielded at least a pretence of
submission was Giovanni di Vico, of the family of the Gaetani, who had
held the office of Præfect of Rome, and was Lord of Viterbo. Against
him the Tribune sent an expedition under one of the Orsini, which
defeated and crushed the rebel, who, on hearing that Cola himself was
coming to join his forces, gave himself up and was brought into Rome
to make his submission: so that in this way also the triumph of the
popular leader was complete. All the surrounding castles fell into his
hands, Civita Vecchia on one hand and Viterbo on the other; and he
employed a captain of one family against the rebels of another with
such skill and force that all were kept within control.
Up to the end of July this state of affairs continued unbroken;
success on every side, and apparently a new hope for Italy, possibly
deliverance for the world. The Tribune seemed safe as any monarch on
his seat, and still bore himself with something of the simplicity and
steadfastness of his beginning. But this began to modify by degrees.
Especially after his easy victory over Giovanni di Vico, he seems to
have treated the nobles whom he had crushed under his heel with
contemptuous incivility, which is the less wonderful when we see how
Petrarch, courtly as he was, speaks of the same class, acknowledging
even his beloved Colonnas to be unworthy of the Roman name. The
Tribune sat in his chair of state, while the barons were required to
stand in his presence, with their arms folded on their breasts and
their heads uncovered. His wife, who was beautiful and young, was
escorted by a guard of honour wherever she went and attended by the
noblest ladies of Rome. The old palace of the Campidoglio was gay with
feasts; its dilapidated walls were adorned with the rich hangings
taken from the confiscated houses of the _potenti_. And then the
Tribune's poor relations began to be separated from the crowd, to ride
about on fine horses and dwell in fine houses. And the sights and
spectacles provided for the people, as well as the steps taken by Cola
himself to enhance his dignity and to occupy the attention of
everybody around, began to assume a fantastic character. An uneasy
vainglory, a desire to be always executing some feat or developing
some new pretension, a restless strain after the histrionic and
dramatic began to show themselves in him--as if he felt that his
tenure somehow demanded a continued supply of such amusements for the
people, who rushed to gaze and admire whatever he did, and filled the
air with _vivas_: yet began secretly in their hearts, as Lo Popolo
always does, to comment upon the extravagance of the Tribune, and the
elevation over their heads of Janni the barber, for instance, who now
rode about so grandly with a train of attendants, as if, instead of
being _popolo_ like themselves, he were one of the _potenti_ whom his
nephew Cola had cast down from their seats.
One of the first great acts which denotes this trembling of sound
reason in the Tribune's soul was the fantastic ceremony by which he
made himself a knight, to the wonder of all Rome. It was not, all the
historians tell us, a strange or unheard-of thing that the City should
create _cavalieri_ of its own. Florence had done it, and Rome also had
done it--in the case of Stefano Colonna and some others very shortly
before--but with at least the pretence of an honour conferred by the
people on citizens selected by their fellow-citizens. Nothing of the
kind was possible with Cola di Rienzi, and no illusion was attempted
on the subject. He was supreme in all things, and it pleased him to
take this dignity to himself. No doubt there was an ambitious purpose
hidden under the external ceremony, which from the outside looked so
much like a dramatic interlude to amuse the people, and a satisfaction
of vanity on his own part. Both these things no doubt had their share,
but they were not all. He made extraordinary preparations for the
success and _éclat_, of what was in reality a _coup d'état_ of the
most extraordinary kind. First of all he fortified himself by the
verdict of all the learned lawyers in Rome, to whom he submitted the
question whether the Roman people had the right to resume into their
own hands, and exercise, the authority which had been used by tyrants
in the name of the city--a question to which there could be but one
answer, by acclamation. These rights had always been claimed as
absolute and supreme by whatsoever leaders the people of Rome had
permitted to speak for them, or whom, more truly, they had followed
like sheep. Twenty years before, as we have seen, they had been by way
of conferring the crown of the Empire upon Louis of Bavaria. It was a
pretension usually crushed in its birth as even Il Bavaro did by
receiving the same crown a second time from his anti-Pope; but it was
one which had been obstinately held, especially in the disorderly
ranks of Lo Popolo, and by visionaries of all kinds. The Popes had
taken that control out of the hands of Rome and claimed it for the
Church with such success as we have attempted to trace; but that in
one form or another the reigning city of the world had always a right
to this supremacy was held by all. In both cases it had been in a
great degree a visionary and unreal claim, never practically accepted
by the world, and the cause of endless futile struggles to overcome
might with (hypothetical) right.
Cola however, as we have seen, had as high a conception of those
claims of Rome as Gregory had, or Innocent. He believed that in its
own right the old Imperial race--which was as little Imperial by this
time, as little assured in descent and as devoid of all royal
qualities as any tribe of barbarians--retained still the sway over the
world which had been enforced by the Imperial legions under the
greatest generals in the world. The enthusiasts for this theory have
been able to shut their eyes to all the laws of nature and government,
and with the strangest superstition have clung to the ghost of what
was real only by stress of superior power and force, when all force
had departed out of the hands which were but as painted shadows of the
past. It is strange to conceive by what possible reasoning a
conflicting host of mediæval barons of the most mixed blood, this from
the Rhine, that from the south of Italy, as Petrarch describes on
more than one occasion, of no true patrician stock: and the remains of
a constantly subject and enslaved people, never of any account except
in moments of revolution--could be made to occupy the place in the
world which Imperial Rome, the only conqueror, the sole autocrat of
the world, had held. The Popes had another and more feasible claim.
They were the heads of a spiritual Empire, standing by right of their
office between God and the world, with a right (as they believed) to
arbitrate and to ordain, as representatives of heaven; a perfectly
legitimate right, if allowed by those subject to it, or proved by
sufficient evidence. Cola, with a curious twist of intelligence and
meaning, attempted to combine both claims. He was the messenger of the
Holy Ghost as well as the Tribune of the City. Only by the immediate
action of God, as he held, could such a sudden and complete revolution
as that which had put the power into his hands have been accomplished:
therefore he was appointed by God. But he was also the representative
of the people, entrusted by Rome with complete power. The spheres of
these two sublime influences were confused. Sometimes he acted as
inspired by one, sometimes asserted himself as the impersonation of
the other. Knight of the Holy Ghost, he was invested with the white
robes of supernatural purity and right--Tribune of Rome, he held the
mandate of the people and wielded the power which was its birthright.
This was the dazzling, bewildering position and supremacy which he was
now to claim before the world.
He had invited all the States of Italy to send deputations of their
citizens to Rome, and the invitation had been largely accepted. From
Florence, Sienna, Perugia, and many other lesser cities, the
representatives of the people came to swell his train. The kings of
France and England made answer by letter in tones of amity; from
Germany Louis of Bavaria hailed the Tribune in friendly terms,
requesting his intercession with the Pope. The Venetians, and "Messer
Luchino il granne tyranno de Milano" also sent letters; and
ambassadors came from Sicily and from Hungary, both claiming the help
of Rome. Everything was joy and triumph in the city. It was the 1st of
August--a great festival, the day of the _Feriae Augusti_--Feragosto,
according to the Roman _patois_--among the populace which no longer
knew what that meant; but Cola, who was better instructed, had chosen
it because of its significance. He rode to the Lateran in the
afternoon in great splendour. It was in the Church's calendar the
vigil of San Pietro in Vincoli, the anniversary of the chains of the
Apostle, which the Empress Eudoxia had brought with great solemnity to
Rome. "All Rome," says the chronicler, "men and women rushed to St.
John Lateran, taking places under the portico to see the _festa_, and
crowding the streets to behold this triumph.
"Then came many cavaliers of all nations, barons and
people, and _Foresi_ with breastplates of bells, clothed in
samite, and with banners; they made great festivity, and
there were games and rejoicings, jugglers and buffoons
without end. There sounded the trumpets, here the bagpipes,
and the cannon was fired. Then, accompanied with music,
came the wife of Cola on foot with her mother, and attended
by many ladies. Behind the ladies came young men finely
dressed, carrying the bridle of a horse gilt and
ornamented. There were silver trumpets without number, and
you could see the trumpeters blow. Afterwards came a
multitude of horsemen, the first of whom were from Perugia
and Corneto. Twice they threw off their silver robes.[7]
Then came the Tribune with the Pope's Vicar by his side.
Before the Tribune was seen one who carried a naked sword,
another carried a banner over his head. In his own hand he
bore a steel wand. Many and many nobles were with him. He
was clothed in a long white robe, worked with gold thread.
Between day and night he came out into the Chapel of Pope
Benedict to the _loggia_ and spoke to the people, saying,
'You know that this night I am to be made knight. When you
come back you shall hear things which will be pleasing to
God in heaven and to men on earth.' He spoke in such a way
that in so great a multitude there was nothing but
gladness, neither horror nor arms. Two men quarrelled and
drew their swords, but were soon persuaded to return them
to their scabbards.... When all had gone away the clergy
celebrated a solemn service, and the Tribune entered into
the Baptistery and bathed himself in the shell[8] of the
Emperor Constantine which was of precious porphyry.
Marvellous is this to say; and much was it talked of among
the people. Then he slept upon a venerable bed, lying in
that place called San Giovanni in Fonte within the circuit
of the columns. There he passed the night, which was a
great wonder. The bed and bedding were new, and as the
Tribune got up from it some part of it fell to the ground
in the silence of the night. In the morning he clothed
himself in scarlet; the sword was girt upon him by Messer
Vico degli Scotti, and the gold spurs of a knight. All
Rome, and every knight among them, had come back to San
Giovanni, also all the barons and strangers, to behold
Messer Cola di Rienzi as a knight."
The chronicle goes on to tell us after this, how Cola went forth upon
the _loggia_ of Pope Benedict's Chapel, while a solemn mass was being
performed, and addressed the people.
"And with a great voice he cited, first, 'Messer Papa
Chimente' to return to his See in Rome, and afterwards
cited the College of the Cardinals. Then he cited the
Bavarian. Then he cited the electors of the Empire in
Germany saying, 'I would see what right they have to
elect,' for it was written that after a certain time had
elapsed the election fell to the Romans. When this citation
was made, immediately there appeared letters and couriers
to carry them, who were sent at once on their way. Then he
took the sword and drew it from its scabbard, and waved it
to the three quarters of the world saying, 'This is mine;
and this is mine; and this is mine.' The Vicar of the Pope
was present, who stood like a dumb man and an idiot
stupefied by this new thing. He had his notary with him,
who protested and said that these things were not done by
his consent, and that he had neither any knowledge of them,
nor sanction from the Pope. And he prayed the notary to
draw out his protest publicly. While the notary made this
protest crying out with a loud voice, Messer Cola commanded
the trumpets and all the other instruments to play, that
the voice of the notary might not be heard, the greater
noise swallowing up the lesser."
These were the news which Cola had promised to let the crowd know when
they returned--news pleasing to God and to men. But there were no
doubt many searchings of heart in the great crowd that filled the
square of the Lateran, straining to hear his voice, as he claimed the
dominion of the world, and called upon Pope and Emperor to appear
before him. No wonder if the Pope's Vicar was "stupefied" and would
take no part in these strange proceedings. It was probably the Notary
of the Commune and not Cola himself who published the citations, and
the authority for them, set forth at length, which were enough to
blanch the cheeks of any Vicar of the Pope.
"In the sanctuary, that is the Baptistery, of the holy
prince Constantine of glorious memory, we have received the
bath of chivalry; under the conduct of the Holy Spirit,
whose unworthy servant and soldier we are, and for the
glory of the Holy Church our mother, and our lord the Pope,
and also for the happiness and advantage of the holy city
of Rome, of holy Italy and of all Christendom, we, knight
of the Holy Spirit, and as such clothed in white, Nicolas,
severe and clement, liberator of the city, defender of
Italy, friend of mankind, and august Tribune, we who wish
and desire that the gift of the Holy Ghost should be
received and should increase throughout Italy, and intend,
as God enables us, to imitate the bounty and generosity of
ancient princes, we make known: that when we accepted the
dignity of Tribune the Roman people, according to the
opinions of all the judges, lawyers, and learned
authorities, recognised that they possessed still the same
authority, power and jurisdiction over all the earth which
belonged to them in primitive times, and at the period of
their greatest splendour: and they have revoked formally
all the privileges accorded to others against that same
authority, power, and jurisdiction. Therefore in conformity
with those ancient rights and the unlimited power which has
been conferred upon us by the people in a general assembly,
and also by our lord the Pope, as is proved by his bulls
apostolical: and that we may not be ungrateful to the grace
and gift of the Holy Spirit, or avaricious of this same
grace and gift in respect to the Roman people and the
peoples of Italy above mentioned: in order also that the
rights and jurisdiction of the Roman people may not be
lost: we resolve and announce, in virtue of the power and
grace of the Holy Spirit, and in the form most feasible and
just, that the holy city of Rome is the head of the world
and the foundation of Christian faith: and we declare that
all the cities of Italy are free, and we accord and have
accorded to these cities an entire freedom, and from to-day
constitute them Roman citizens, declaring, announcing, and
ordaining that henceforward they should enjoy the
privileges of Roman freedom.
"In addition, and in virtue of the same puissance and grace
of God, of the Holy Spirit, and of the Roman people, we
assert, recognise and declare that the choice of the Roman
Emperor, the jurisdiction and dominion over all the holy
empire, belongs to the Holy City itself, and to holy Italy
by several causes and reasons; and we make known by this
decree to all prelates, elected emperors, and electors, to
the kings, dukes, princes, counts, and margraves, to the
people, to the corporations, and to all others who
contradict this and exercise any supposed right in respect
to the choice of the empire, that they are called to appear
to explain their pretensions in the Church of the Lateran,
before us and the other commissioners of our lord the Pope
between this and Pentecost of next year, and that after
that time we shall proceed according to our rights and the
inspiration of the Holy Ghost."
The instrument is very long drawn out and entangled in its sentences,
but the claim set forth in it is very clear, and arrogant as that of
any Forged Decretals or Papal Bull. Its tone makes every pretension of
the Popes sound humble, and every assertion of their power reasonable.
But there is no reason to doubt that it was perfectly sincere. Rome
was a word which went to the heads of every one connected with that
wonderful city. Nothing was too great for her; no exaltation too high.
To transfer the election of the Emperor from the great German princes
to the populace of Rome, fickle and ignorant, led by whoever came
uppermost, was a fantastic imagination, which it is almost impossible
to believe any sane man could entertain. Yet Cola thought it just and
true, the only thing to be done in order to turn earth into a sort of
heaven; and Petrarch, a more prudent man, thought the same. To the
poet Cola's enterprise was the hope of Italy and of the world: and it
was at this moment, when the Tribune was in the full flush of his
triumph, that Petrarch addressed to him, besides a promise of a poem
supposed to be fulfilled in the _Spirito Gentil_, a long letter,
_Esortatoria_, in which he exhorts him to pursue the "happy success"
of his "most glorious undertaking," by sobriety and modesty it is
true, but also by gladness and triumph, in order that the city "chosen
by all the world as the seat of empire," should not relapse into
slavery. "Rome, queen of cities, lady of the world, head of the
empire, seat of the great Pontiff," her claim to dominion was not
doubted by those strange enthusiasts. She was an abstraction, an ideal
wisdom and power personified--not even in a race, not in a great man
or men, but in the city, and that ever wavering tumultuous voice of
the populace, blown hither and thither by every wind. And Cola
believed himself to hold in his hands the fortunes and interests of
Christendom entire, the dominion of the whole world. No enthusiasm, no
delusion, could be more extraordinary.
The ceremonies of August did not finish with this. Another prodigious
ceremonial was celebrated on the day of the Assumption of the Virgin,
the fifteenth of that month, also a great Roman holiday. On this day
there was once more a great function in the Church of the Lateran. The
Pope's Vicar refused to preside, awaiting in the meantime orders from
headquarters. But this did not arrest these curious proceedings. This
time it was the coronation of the Tribune that was in question. He had
made himself a knight, and even had invented an order for himself, the
order of those "Clothed in White," the Knights of the Holy Spirit. Now
he was to be crowned according to his fashion. The chronicler of the
life of Cola, however, takes no notice of this ceremony. It was begun
by the Prior of St. John Lateran, who advanced to the Tribune and gave
him a crown of oak-leaves, with the words, "Take this oaken crown
because thou hast delivered the citizens from death." After him came
the Prior of St. Peter's with a crown of ivy, saying, "Take this ivy
because thou hast loved religion." The Dean of St. Paul's came next
with a crown of myrtle, "Because thou hast done thy duty and preserved
justice, and hast hated bribes." The Prior of St. Lorenzo brought a
crown of laurel, he of Sta. Maria Maggiore one of olive, with the not
very suitable address, "Take this, man of humble mind, because in thee
humility has overcome pride." Finally the Prior of the hospital of
Santo Spirito presented Cola with a silver crown and a sceptre,
saying, "Illustrious Tribune, receive this crown and sceptre, the
gifts of the Holy Ghost, along with the spiritual crown." This, one
would suppose, must have been an interpolation; for Goffredo degli
Scotti, who had belted on his sword as a knight, was present with
another silver crown, given by the people of Rome, which was
surmounted by a cross, and which was presented to Cola with the words:
"Illustrious Tribune, receive this: exercise justice, and give us
freedom and peace."
The reader will be tempted to imagine that Cola must have been weighed
down by this pyramid of wreaths, like a French schoolboy in his moment
of triumph. But in the midst of all these glorious surroundings his
dramatic imagination had conceived a telling way of getting rid of
them. By his side stood a man very poorly dressed and carrying a
sword, with which he took off in succession every crown as it was
placed upon the Tribune's head, "in sign of humility and because the
Roman Emperors had to endure every incivility addressed to them in the
day of their triumph." We find, however, the beggar man with all the
crowns spitted upon his sword, a ridiculous rather than an expressive
figure. The last of all, the silver crown, remained on the Tribune's
brows, the Archbishop of Naples having the courtly inspiration of
interposing when the ragged attendant would have taken it. All the
different wreaths had classical or Scriptural meanings. They were made
from the plants that grew wild about the Arch of Constantine;
everything was symbolical, mystic--the seven gifts of the Spirit; and
all pervaded by that fantastic mixture of the old and the new, of
which the world was then full.
After this final assertion of his greatness Cola made a speech to the
people confirming the assertions and high-flown pretensions of his
former proclamation, and forbidding any emperor, king, or prince
whatsoever, to touch the sacred soil of Italy without the consent of
the Pope and the Roman people. He seems to have concluded by
forbidding the use of the names of Guelf and Ghibelline--an admirable
rule could it have been carried out.
While all Rome was thus swarming in the streets, filling up every
available inch of space under the porticoes and in the square to see
this great sight, a certain holy monk, much esteemed by the people,
was found weeping and praying in one of the chapels of Sta. Maria
Maggiore, while the Tribune in all his state was receiving crowns and
homage. One of Cola's domestic priests, who officiated in the private
chapel at the Capitol, asked Fra Guglielmo why in the midst of so much
rejoicing he alone was sorrowful. "Thy master," said the monk, "has
fallen from heaven to-day! Oh that such pride should have entered into
his soul! With the help of the Holy Spirit he has driven the tyrants
out of Rome without striking a blow, he has been raised to the dignity
of a Tribune, and all the towns and all the lords of Italy have done
him honour. Why is he so proud and so ungrateful towards the Most
High, and why does he dare in an insolent address to compare himself
to his Creator? Say to thy master that nothing will expiate such a
crime but tears of penitence." Thus it will be seen that there were
checks, very soon apparent, to the full flood of enthusiasm and faith
with which the Tribune had been received.
Meanwhile there remained, outside of all these triumphs and rejoicings
and the immense self-assertion of the man who in the name of Rome
claimed a sort of universal dominion--a strong band of nobles still in
possession of their castles and strongholds round the city, grimly
watching the progress of affairs, and no doubt waiting the moment when
the upstart who thus had pranked himself in all the finery and the
follies of royalty, should take that step too far which is always to
be expected and which should decide his fate. No doubt to old Stefano
Colonna, with all his knowledge of men, this end would seem coming on
very surely when he heard of, or perhaps witnessed, the melodrama of
the knighthood, the farce of the coronation. Cola had been forced to
take advantage of the services of these barons, even though he hated
them. He had put an Orsini at the head of his troops against the
Præfect Giovanni di Vico. He appointed Janni Colonna, his former
patron, who had laughed at him so heartily, to lead the expedition
against the Gaetani. Nowhere, it would seem, among the men who were
_popolari_, of the people, was the ghost of a general to be found. The
nobles had been at first banished from Rome; but their good behaviour
in that great matter of the safety of the roads, or else the
difficulty of acting against them individually, and the advice of
Petrarch and others who advised great caution, had no doubt tacitly
broken this sentence, and permitted their return. Many of them were
certainly in Rome, going and coming, though none held any office; and
we are told that old Stefano was present at the great dinner after
Cola made himself a knight. Perhaps comments were made upon those
ceremonies which reached the ears of the Tribune; perhaps there were
whispers of growing impatience in the other party, or hints of plots
among them. Or perhaps Cola, having exhausted all other methods of
giving to himself and Rome a new sensation, bethought himself of these
enemies of the Republic, always no doubt desirous of acting against
her, whether they did so openly or not. His proceedings had now become
so histrionic that it is permissible to surmise a motive which
otherwise would have been unworthy a man of his genius and natural
power; and in face of the curious tragi-comedy which followed it is
difficult not to suspect something of the kind. One day in September
the Tribune invited a number of the nobles to a great dinner. The list
given in the _Vita_ includes the noblest names in Rome. Stefano
Colonna with three of his sons--Agapito and "the prosperous youth"
Janni (grandson) and Stefanello, the eldest lay member of the family,
along with a number of the Orsini, Luca de Savelli, the Conte di
Vertolle, and several others. The feast would seem to have begun with
apparent cordiality and that strained politeness and watchfulness on
the part of the guests, which has distinguished many fatal banquets
in which every man mistrusted his neighbour. Cola had done nothing as
yet to warrant any downright suspicion of treachery, but most likely
the barons had an evil conscience, and it might have been observed
that the Tribune's courtesy also was strained.
"Towards evening the _popolari_ who were among the guests
began to talk of the defects of the nobles, and the
goodness of the Tribune. Then Messer Stefano the elder
began a question, which was best in a Ruler of the people,
to be prodigal or economical? A great discussion arose upon
this, and at the last Messer Stefano took up a corner of
Cola's robe, and said, 'To thee, Tribune, it would be more
suitable to wear an honest costume of cloth, than this
pompous habit,' and saying this he showed the corner of the
robe. When Cola heard this he was troubled. He called for
the guard and had them all arrested. Messer Stefano the
veteran was placed in an adjoining hall, where he remained
all night without any bed, pacing about the room, and
knocking at the door prayed the guards to free him; but the
guards would not listen to him. Then daylight appeared. The
Tribune deliberated whether he should not cut off their
heads, in order to liberate completely the people of Rome.
He gave orders that the _Parlatorio_ should be hung with
red and white cloth, which was the signal of execution.
Then the great bell was rung and the people gathered to the
Capitol. He sent to each of the prisoners a confessor, one
of the Minor friars, that they might rise up to repentance
and receive the body of Christ. When the Barons became
aware of all these preparations and heard the great bell
ringing, they were so frozen with fear that they could not
speak. Most of them humbled themselves and made their
penitence, and received the communion. Messer Rainallo
degli Orsini and some others, because they had in the
morning eaten fresh figs, could not receive, and Messer
Stefano Colonna would not confess, nor communicate, saying
that he was not ready, and had not set his affairs in
order.
"In the meanwhile, several of the citizens, considering the
judgment that was about to be made, used many arguments to
prevent it in soothing and peaceful words. At last the
Tribune rose from the council and broke up the debate. It
was now the hour of Tierce. The Barons as condemned persons
came down sadly into the _Parlatorio_. The trumpets sounded
as if for their execution, and they were ranged in face of
the people. Then the Tribune changed his purpose, ascended
the platform, and made a beautiful sermon. He repeated the
Pater Noster, that part which says 'Forgive us our debts.'
Then he pardoned the Barons and said that he wished them to
be in the service of the people, and made peace between
them and the people. One by one they bowed their heads to
the people. After this their offices were restored to them,
and to each was given a beautiful robe trimmed with vair:
and a new Gonfalon was made with wheatears in gold. Then he
made them dine with him and afterwards rode through the
city, leading them with him; and then let them go freely on
their way. This that was done much displeased all discreet
persons who said, 'He has lighted a fire and flame which he
will not be able to put out.'"
"And I," adds the chronicler, "said this proverb," which was by no
means a decorous one: its meaning was that it was useless to make a
smell of gunpowder and shoot no one.
The Tribune's dramatic instincts had gone too far. He had indeed
produced a thrilling sensation, a moment of extreme and terrible
tragic apprehension; but he forgot that he was playing with men, not
puppets, and that the mercy thus accorded after they had been brought
through the bitterness of death, was not likely to be received as a
generous boon by these shamed and outraged patricians, who were as
much insulted by his mercy as they were injured by his fictitious
condemnation. They must have followed him in that ride through Rome
with hearts burning within them, the furred mantles which were his
gifts like badges of shame upon their shoulders: and each made his
way, as soon as they were free, outside the gates to their own
castles, with fury in their hearts. These men were not of the kind
upon whom so tragic a jest could be played. Old Stefano and his sons,
having suffered the further indignity of being created by that rascal
multitude patricians and consuls, went off to their impregnable
Palestrina, and the Orsini to Marino, an equally strong place.
Henceforward there was no peace possible between the Tribune and the
nobles of Rome. "He drew back from the accomplishment of his
treachery," says his modern biographer Papencordt. Did he ever intend
to do more than was done? It seems to us very doubtful. He was a man
of sensations, and loved a thrilling scene, which he certainly
secured. He humiliated his foes to the very dust, and made a situation
at which all Rome held its breath: the tribunal draped as for a
sentence of death, the confessor at every man's elbow, the populace
solemnly assembled to see the tyrants die, while all the while the
robes with their border of royal minever were laid ready, and the
banners worked with ears of wheat. There is a touch almost of the
mountebank in those last details. Petrarch, it is curious to note,
disapproved, not of the trap laid for the nobles, or the circumstances
of the drama, but of the failure of Cola to take advantage of such an
opportunity, "an occasion such as fortune never gave to an Emperor,"
when he might have cut off at a single blow the enemies of freedom.
Perhaps the poet was right: but yet Cola in his folly would have been
a worse man if he had been a wiser one. As it was his dramatic
instinct was his ruin.
The barons went off _fra denti minacciavano_, swearing through their
teeth, and it was not long before the Orsini, who had been, up to that
tragic banquet, his friends and supporters, had entrenched themselves
in Marino, and were in full rebellion, resuming all the ancient
customs of their race, and ravaging the Campagna to the very gates of
Rome. It was the time of the vintage, which for once it had seemed
likely would be made in peace that first year of the republic, if
never before. But already the spell of the short-lived peace was
broken, and once more the raiders were abroad, carrying terror and
loss to all the surrounding country. "So great was the folly of the
Tribune," his primitive biographer resumes, losing patience, that
instead of following the rebels at once to their lair, he gave them
time to fortify Marino and set everything in order for defence, so
that it proved a hard task when at last he bestirred himself and went
against the stronghold with an army of unusual strength, chiefly
raised among the irritated Romans themselves, with which he spoiled
all the surrounding country, took a smaller fortress belonging to the
Orsini, and so alarmed them that they offered to surrender on
condition of having their safety secured. Cola would make no
conditions, but he did not succeed in taking Marino, being urgently
called back to Rome to meet the Legate of the Pope, who had been sent
to deal with him with the severest threats and reprimands. The Tribune
upon this returned to the city, raising the siege of Marino; and
instantly on his arrival gave orders for the destruction of the palace
of the Orsini, near the Castle of St. Angelo. He then went on to St.
Peter's, where with his usual love of costume, and in the strange
vanity which more and more took possession of him, he took from the
treasury of the Chief of the Apostles the dalmatic usually worn by the
Emperors during the ceremonies of their coronation, a garment of great
price, "all embroidered," says the chronicler, "with small pearls."
This he put on over his armour, and so equipped, and with the silver
crown on his head which was his distinction as Tribune, and the
glittering steel sceptre in his hand, went to the Papal palace, where
the Legate awaited him. "Terrible and fantastic was his appearance,"
says his biographer; and he was in no mood to receive the Legate as so
high a functionary expected. "You have come to see us--what is your
pleasure?" he said. The Legate replied: "I have much to say to you
from the Pope." When the Tribune heard these words, he spoke out
loudly in a high voice, "What have you to say?" but when the Legate
heard this rampant reply, he stood astonished and was silent; then the
Tribune turned his back upon him.
_Rampagnosa_ indeed was his air and manner, touched with that madness
which the gods send to those whom they would destroy; and _fantastico_
the appearance of the leader, unaccustomed to arms, with the Emperor's
splendid mantle over the dust of the road, and the pacific simplicity
of the little civic crown over his steel cap. Probably the stately
Cardinal-Legate, accustomed to princes and statesmen, thought the
Tribune mad; he must have been partially so at least, in the
excitement of his first campaign, and the rising tide of his
self-confidence, and the hurry and commotion of fate.
In the meantime, however, Marino was not taken, and another fire of
rebellion had broken out among the Colonnas, who were now known to be
making great preparations for a descent upon Rome. The Legate had
retired to Monte Fiascone, whence he opened a correspondence with both
divisions of these rebel nobles; and a formidable party was thus
organised, from one point to another, against Rome: while the city
itself began to send forth secret messengers on all sides, the
populace changing its mind as usual, while the wealthy citizens were
alarmed by their isolation, or offended by the arrogance of their
chief. Cola, too, by this time had begun, it would seem, to feel in
his sensitive person the reaction of so much excitement and
exaltation, and was for a short time ill and miserable, feeling the
horror of the gathering tempest which began to rise round him on every
side. But he was reinvigorated by various successes in Rome itself and
by the still greater encouragement given by the arrival of the first
rebel, the Lord of Viterbo, Giovanni di Vico, who came in the guise of
friendship and with offers of aid, but at the same time with airs of
importance and pretension which Cola did not approve. He was promptly
secured by the usual but too easy method of an invitation to a
banquet, a snare into which the Roman nobles seem to have fallen with
much readiness, and was imprisoned. Then Cola, fully restored to
himself, prepared to meet his foes. It was winter weather, a dark and
cold November, when the rumour rose that the Colonna were approaching
Rome. Cola called together his army, which had been increased by some
bands of allies from neighbouring cities, and was headed by several
Orsini of another branch of the house. He had already encouraged the
people by public addresses, in which he related the appearance to him
first of St. Martin, who told him to have no fear, and secondly of St.
Boniface, who declared himself the enemy of the Colonna, who wronged
the Church of God. Such visions show something of the disturbed
condition of the Tribune's mind vainly trying to strengthen himself in
a confidence which he did not feel. On the twentieth of November, in
the gray of the morning, the great bell rang, and the trumpets sounded
for the approach of the enemy: and with his forces divided into three
bands, one under his own command, the others led by Cola and Giordano
Orsini, he set forth to meet the rebels who by the gate of St. Lorenzo
were drawing near to Rome.
The enemy had no great mind for the battle. They had marched all night
through the bitter rain and cold. Old Stefano had been attacked by
fever and was trembling like a leaf. Agapito, his nephew, had had a
bad dream in which he saw his wife a widow, weeping and tearing her
hair. They arrived before the gate in indifferent heart and with
divided counsels, though there had been information sent them of a
conspiracy within, and that the gate would be opened to them without
any struggle. Stefano Colonna the younger, who was general of the
host, then rode up alone and demanded entrance. "I am a citizen of
Rome. I wish to return to my house. I come in the name of the Buono
Stato," he said. The Captain of the Gate replied with great
simplicity. It is evident that Stefano had called some one by name,
expecting admittance. "The guards to whom you call are not here. The
guard has been changed. I have newly come with my men. You cannot by
any means come in. The gate is locked. Do you not know in what anger
the people are against you for having disturbed the Buono Stato? Do
not you hear the great bell? I pray you for God's sake go away. I wish
you no harm. To show you that you cannot enter here, I throw out the
key." The key, which was useless on the outer side of the gate, fell
into a pool made by the rain: but the noise of its fall startled the
already troubled nerves of the leaders, and they held hasty counsel
what to do. "They deliberated if they could retire with honour," says
the chronicler. It is most curious to hear this parleying, and the
murmur of the army, uneasy outside, not knowing what further step to
take, in the miserable November dawn, after their night march. They
had expected to be admitted by treachery, and evidently had not taken
this _contretemps_ into their calculations. "They resolved to retire
with honour," says Papencordt: and for this purpose troop by troop
advanced to the gate, and then turned to retreat: perhaps in obedience
to some punctilio of ancient warfare. The third battalion contained
the pride of the army (_li pruodi, e le bene a cavallo, e tutta la
fortezza_), young Janni Colonna, at its head. One portion of Cola's
army had by this time reached the same spot inside, and were eager for
a sortie, but could not open the gate in the usual manner, the key
being lost; they therefore broke open one portion of it with great
clamour and noise. The right side opened, the left remained closed.
"Janni Colonna approached the gate, hearing the noise
within, and considering that there had been no order to
open it, he thought that his friends must have made that
noise, and that they had broken the gate by force. Thus
considering, Janni Colonna quickly crossed the threshold
with his lance in rest, spurring his courser, riding boldly
without precaution. He entered the gate of the city. _Deh_!
how terrified were the people! Before him all the cavalry
in Rome turned to fly. Likewise the Popolo retreated
flying, for the space of half a turn. But not for this did
his friends follow Janni, so that he remained alone there,
as if he had been called to judgment. Then the Romans took
courage, perceiving that he was alone: the greater was his
misfortune. His horse caught its foot in an open cellar
(_grotta_) which was by the left side of the gate, and
threw him, trampling upon him. Janni perceiving his
misfortune, called out to the people for quarter, adjuring
them for God's sake not to strip him of his armour. How can
it be said? He was stripped and struck by three blows and
died. Fonneruglio de Trejo was the first to strike. He
(Janni) was a young man of a good disposition. His fame was
spread through every land. He lay there naked, wounded and
dead, in a heap against the wall of the city within the
gate, his hair all plastered with mud, scarcely to be
recognised. Then was seen a great marvel. The pestilential
and disturbed weather began to clear, the sun shone out,
the sky from being dark and cloudy became serene and gay."
This, however, was but the first chapter of this dreadful tragedy. And
still greater misery was to come.
"Stefano della Colonna, among the multitude outside in
front of the gate, demanded anxiously where was his son
Janni, and was answered: 'We know not what he has done or
where he has gone.' Then Stefano began to suspect that he
had gone in at the gate. He therefore spurred his horse and
went on alone, and saw his son lying on the ground
surrounded by many people, between the cellar and the pool
of water. Seeing that, Stefano fearing for himself, turned
back; he went out from the gate and his good sense
abandoned him. He was confounded; the loss of his son
overcame him. He said not a word, but turned back and again
entered the gate, if by any means he might save his son.
When he drew near he saw that his son was dead. The
question now was to save his own life, and he turned back
again sadly. As he went out of the gate, and was passing
under the Tower, a great piece of stone struck him on the
shoulder and his horse on the croup. Then followed lances,
thrown from every side. The wounded horse threw out its
heels, and the rider unable to keep his seat fell to the
ground, when the Popolo rushed upon him in front of the
gate, in that place where the image stands, in the middle
of the road. There he lay naked in sight of the people and
of every one who passed by. He had lost one foot and was
wounded in many places, one terrible blow having struck him
between the nose and the eyes. Janni was wounded only in
the breast and in one of his feet. Then the people flung
themselves forth from the gate furiously without order or
leader, seeking merely whom to kill. They met the young
Cavaliers, foremost of whom was Pietro of Agapito di
Colonna who had been Præfect of Marseilles, and a priest.
He had never used arms till that day. He fell from his
horse and could not recover himself, the ground being so
slippery, but fled into a vineyard close by. Bald he was,
and old, praying for God's sake to be forgiven. But vain
was his prayer. First his money was taken, then his arms,
then his life. He lay in that vineyard naked, dead, bald,
fat--not like a man of war. Near him lay another baron,
Pandolfo of the lords of Belvedere. In a small space lay
twelve of them; prostrate they lay. All the rest of the
army, horsemen as well as footmen, flung their arms from
them here and there, and without order, in great terror,
turned their backs: and there was not one who struck a
blow."
Thus ended the first attack upon the Tribune--horribly, vilely, with
panic on both sides, and the rage of wild beasts among the victorious
people, not one on either side, except those two murdered Colonnas,
bearing himself like a man. The record of the struggle, so intense in
its brevity, so brutal and terrible, with its background of leaden
skies and falling rain, and the muddy earth upon which both horses and
men slipped and fell, is placed before us like a picture: and the
sudden clearing of the weather, the sun breaking out suddenly upon
those white prostrate figures, white and red with horrible wounds.
There could not be a more appalling scene--amid all the records of
internecine warfare one of the most squalid, unredeemed even by any
feat of arms; for poor young Janni walked into the snare unconscious,
and a blind chance, horrible and unpremeditated, seemed to reign over
all--all but the father, heart-broken, retiring by instinct in the
first discovery of danger, then turning back to save, if it were
possible, his dying boy, who had been so brutally struck down and cut
to pieces. The old father of all, the great Stefano, too old for war,
and trembling with fever, was borne along in the crowd of the flying,
to hide his bereaved head in his old fortress and sternly lament his
children lost.
Cola, the chronicle says, shared the consternation of the people when
young Janni's noble figure appeared in the opening of the gate. The
Tribune's banner was overturned in the backward rush of the people
before that solitary invader: and he himself, raising his eyes to
heaven, cried out no other word than this: "Ah, God, hast thou
betrayed me?" But when the sudden rush of murder and pursuit was over
he recovered all his dramatic instincts along with his courage. The
silver trumpets were sounded, a wreath of olive was placed upon his
head above the silver crown, he waved his steel wand in the now
brilliant sunshine, and marched into Rome, triumphant--as indeed he
had good reason to be--to the Church of the Ara Coeli, where he
deposited the olive crown and the steel wand before the altar of the
Virgin. "After this," says the indignant chronicler, "he never carried
sceptre again, nor wore crown, nor had a banner borne over his head."
Once more he addressed the people from the _Parlatorio_, with the
intonation of victory in every word. Drawing his sword, he wiped it
with his robe, and said: "I have cut off with this such a head as
neither the Pope nor the Emperor could touch."
Meanwhile the three dead Colonnas had been carried into Rome to the
chapel of their house in the Ara Coeli. "The Contesse (the
relations, wives and sisters) came, attended by many women tearing
their hair, to wail (_ululare_) over the dead," but Cola had them
driven away and forbade any funeral honours. "If they trouble me any
more about these accursed corpses," he said, "I will have them thrown
into a ditch. They were perjurers--they were not worthy to be buried."
The three dead knights were carried secretly by night to the Church of
San Silvestro, and buried by the monks _senza ululato_, without any
lament made over them. Thus ended the noble Colonna, the hopes of the
house--and with them, though he knew it not, the extravagant hopes and
miraculous good fortune of Cola di Rienzi, which began to fall from
that day.
We have dwelt upon the details of this history, because there is
scarcely any other which gives so clear a vision of the streets and
palaces, the rushing of the Popolo, the uncertain counsels of the
nobles, the mingled temerity and panic which prevailed among all on
both sides. The confusion is extraordinary; the ignorant crowd with
its enthusiast leader scarcely less ignorant of men and the just
course of human affairs, who defied with a light heart the greatest
powers in Christendom, and retreated before the terrific vision of one
young warrior in the gate: the nobles with their army, which sought
only how to get away again without disgrace when they found themselves
in front of a defended gate, and fled before a rabble sortie, of men
as much frightened as themselves, and brave only when pursuing another
demoralised troop. Whether we look to one side or the other, the
effect is equally vivid. The revelation, at first so romantic and
splendid, if always fantastic and theatrical, falls now into a squalid
horror and mad brag, and cowardice, and fury, in which the spectacle
of the Tribune, wiping the sword guiltless of blood upon his mantle,
reaches perhaps the highest point of tragic ridicule: while all the
chivalry of Rome galloping along the muddy roads to their strongholds,
flying before a civic mob, is its lowest point of humiliating misery.
It seems almost impossible to believe that the best blood and highest
names of Italy, as well as on the other side its most visionary
aspirations, should come to such degrading confusion and downfall.
[Illustration: PORTA DEL POPOLO (FLAMINIAN GATE).]
FOOTNOTES:
[6] A necessary distinction when there were so many of the same
name--_i.e._, Pietro the son of Agapito, nephew of old Stefano.
[7] Changed their dresses, throwing those which they took off among
the people.
[8] The bath, or baptismal vase of Constantine (so-called) here
referred to, still stands in the Baptistery of the Lateran.
[Illustration: THEATRE OF MARCELLUS.]