_The Middle Ages._--_Ezzelino da Romano_
The power of the Lombards, after lasting for over two centuries in Italy
was now tottering to its fall, and about to give way to that of the
Franks in the northern part at least of the Peninsula. The Popes seeing
to their dismay that the long-bearded invaders far from confining
themselves to their northern conquests were planning to add to their
possessions in the South, called in the aid of the Franks. Pepin I. then
King of France, answered readily to the summons; and after his death his
son Charlemagne was only too glad to retain a foothold in the land where
he meant to establish his dynasty. Desiderius, at that time King of the
Lombards, saw clearly the danger threatening his realm. To propitiate
the French monarch and bind him to his cause he gave him his daughter
Desideria in marriage, little foreseeing how such a step was but to
aggravate his difficulties. Desideria was repudiated shortly after her
marriage, and came back to her father’s house an injured, outraged
woman. Desiderius swore to be revenged, though he had to conceal his
intentions, and outwardly appear subservient. He sought to raise up foes
against Charlemagne, who to avert the threatened sedition marched at the
head of an army into Lombardy. Desiderius was defeated at Le Chiuse di
Susa, and forced to fly to Pavia. At the same time his son Adelchi,
whom he had associated with him on the throne, withdrew to Verona, which
he fortified--a fact that proves how even at that date the town was a
stronghold and able to endure a siege. It was at once beleaguered by the
Franks and compelled to open its gates to them while Adelchi had to
retire and seek shelter and help at Constantinople.
The changes brought about at Verona under the Carlovingian rule were
many. Counts were appointed in the place of the dukes who had held sway
till then; and Verona was converted from a duchy into a county, though
as far as transpires the extent of territory belonging to the new
condition remained unaltered. Charlemagne was in Rome in the year 781
when Pope Adrian I. baptised his two sons, Pepin and Louis, and
afterwards anointed them kings. Their father’s intention had been to
appoint the eldest son, Pepin, King of Italy, and leave his French
kingdom to Louis the second son. Pepin, as other monarchs had done
before him, loved to dwell at Verona, though fate willed it, that he
should die and be buried at Milan (810). The legends relating to the
Carlovingian period in Verona have left a visible form in the statues of
Roland and Oliver which adorn the façade of the Duomo, where the two
paladins stand as though to guard the beautiful entrance to the
Cathedral. Many fables are circulated as to Pepin, around whose memory a
halo of love and respect has arisen which is not wholly dimmed to this
day. His tomb was said to be outside the church of S. Zeno, resting
between it and the church of S. Procolo; and the seat of justice where
he sat and administered the affairs of state, was pointed out among the
excavations on the Colle di San Pietro. There is however nothing but
tradition whereon to base either of these assertions,
[Illustration: THE FAÇADE OF THE DUOMO]
though the people cling to them as tokens that their loved monarch lived
and died in their midst.
The years that followed Pepin’s death and wherein the Carlovingian kings
extended their sway over Italy, brought no events of moment to Verona. A
new line of rulers came in after the Carlovingian monarchs in the person
of Berengarius I., Duke of Friuli, and his successors. This Berengarius
overcame his competitor Guido, Duke of Spoleto (886) and reigned in
North Italy till the year 923. The close of Berengarius’s life is tragic
and pathetic in the extreme. He had retired to Verona after a defeat
which he had sustained at the hands of Rudolph, Duke of Burgundy. A
conspiracy was here set on foot to murder him, headed by one Flambert, a
noble of Verona, who stood high in King Berengarius’s favour, and whose
son had been held at the font by the king in person. Berengarius was
apprised of the plot, and sent for Flambert to warn him in his turn. He
reminded him of the love which existed between them; of the favours he
had heaped on him, he pointed out to him the enormity of his crime, and
the small gain that could accrue to him therefrom. At last taking a gold
cup he gave it to him bidding him keep it as a pledge of the goodwill
henceforward to exist between them, and reminding him that he, the king,
was also his son’s godfather. The same night Berengarius, to show that
no trace of suspicion lurked in his mind, slept without guards, and
instead of staying even within his fortified palace he caused his bed to
be placed in an arbour in the garden. The next morning, as he was about
to betake himself to church, Flambert, followed by some armed men, came
to meet him, and making as though he would embrace him, stabbed him to
death. No cause has come to light to explain the reason that prompted so
foul a treachery, and the fact that Flambert was executed by the order
of Milo, Count of Verona, who rushed to avenge the king, carries with it
very little satisfaction.
Berengarius was succeeded in turn by Rudolph, Duke of Burgundy; then by
Hugh, Duke of Provence, and his son Lothair; afterwards by Berengarius
II. and his son Adalbert. These rulers were for the most part also
marquises of Tuscany, and their connection with Verona did not affect
her history to any great or stirring extent. Their power came to an end
with Berengarius II. who was overthrown by Otho I. of Saxony, Emperor of
Germany, and for a while German supremacy was paramount throughout the
land. During that time a series of counts and marquises filled the
office of chief magistrate in Verona. They acted, it is true, as vassals
of the Emperor, but occasionally they shewed a spirit of independence
and insubordination that cannot always have been reassuring to their
feudal lord.
Verona was often the gathering place for Councils and Diets; and a noted
one took place there in June 983, under the presidency of Otho II., when
warriors, prelates, and men of letters flocked to the town from Saxony,
Franconia, Suabia, Bavaria, Lorraine, and from many parts of Italy as
well. The Duke of Bohemia sent his representative, nor were ladies
excluded from the assembly, for not only was Otho’s wife there, the
beautiful Greek Theophania, daughter of the Emperor of the East, but
also his mother Adelaide of Burgundy, the widow of Otho the Great. The
diet was held in order to consider the ever vexed question of the
sovereignty of the kingdom of Italy, and the Emperor was successful in
procuring the unanimous nomination of his son Otho as future king of the
Peninsula as well as of Germany.
No incident of importance disturbed the history of
[Illustration: TOWER OF THE FORMER CONVENT OF S. ZENO
The only remaining fragment of the building when the mediæval
German emperors stopt on their way to Rome.
]
Verona now for some time. Her intercourse with Germany kept her trade
and interests active beyond the limits of ordinary existence, without at
the same time involving her in wars and dissensions over the rights and
powers to be adjudged to the monarchs whether of France or of Germany,
or to their rivals and foes the Popes of Rome. This state of things
however came to an end when the struggle between Henry IV. and Gregory
VII. blazed forth in all its violence; and men and cities were forced to
take sides with either the Pope or the Emperor. Verona threw in her lot
with Henry IV. Two bishops of Verona in turn subscribed to edicts
published against Hildebrand, and Henry was supported anew by the town
when he passed through it to wage war upon the Countess Matilda of
Tuscany. Even when the Lombard cities forsook the Emperor Verona
remained faithful to him, foreseeing that only in this way could
religious peace be maintained, and anxious at the same time to put an
end to feudalism, and to compass the introduction of the Free Communes
by her own severance from the Empire.
The adhesion of the Veronese to the Imperial cause did not blind them
however to their religious duties, and though no abundance of documents
exists to record their prowess, there is sufficient evidence to show
that the people of Verona took their share in more than one crusade, and
that on two occasions their Bishops went with them.
In the meanwhile the power of the Italian Communes was working its way
to the fore, establishing its principles, and binding one town after
another to its cause. It failed though in laying that substratum of
unity that where so many were involved could alone ensure strength; and
though ignorant of its action it was gradually preparing the way for the
incoming of the “signori” or tyrants who were to domineer over each
town of importance throughout the Peninsula. The arrival of Frederick
Barbarossa in Italy in 1154 was to test to the utmost the new power of
the Communes. Verona, and many another city besides, had at first
intended to stand by the Emperor, and “maintain the Imperial crown and
all its honour in Italy.” But such a course was rendered impossible by
the Emperor’s own action. His cruelty towards Milan, his ambition, his
rapaciousness, convinced every inhabitant south of the Alps that they
had in him an enemy of no mean order, and that every effort was
praiseworthy which sought to expel him from their midst. The Veronese
were eager to give evidence of their readiness to aid in so laudable an
effort, and the following incident will serve to show how keen they were
to hasten Frederick’s departure out of Italy by fair means or foul. The
story though is told only by German writers. Some native historians
indeed question the narrative. They maintain that the events related
never took place, and seek to exculpate their fellow-citizens from a
charge of treachery over an act which, if it occurred, may be considered
as that of desperate men bent on freeing their land from an invader and
his forces. The Emperor Frederick Barbarossa had made one successful
descent upon Italy; he had been to Rome to be crowned, and was then
forced to return to Germany, his soldiers being weary of a longer
absence from their homes. His way back led through Verona, “where,”
according to Otto von Frisingen (a contemporary chronicler and a cousin
of the Emperor’s), “it not being customary for the Veronese to grant a
passage through their city to the Imperial arms, it was decided to build
a bridge for them outside the town. On Frederick’s arrival in their
midst, with an army which had laid waste all Italy, the Veronese
flattered themselves that the work of avenging the whole of Lombardy lay
in their hands. The bridge of boats built above the city was designed
for vengeance, and was a trap rather than a bridge--the boats being tied
together in such guise as only just to withstand the force of the
current. Huge beams of timber were in the meanwhile to be floated down
the river, which beating against the bridge were to break it at the
moment when the Imperialists would cross it. The plot failed through a
miscalculation as to time. The Imperial troops had hastened their march
so as to escape from the bands of peasants who were known to be arming
against them, and crossed the bridge in safety. The timber launched for
their destruction arrived only to work havoc among their foes, for it
broke up the bridge, and separated a great number of Veronese who had
followed on the track of the Germans from their friends; and the
Imperialists falling on them put them all to the sword. The Emperor was
not strong enough at that moment to avenge the intended insult; he had
no choice but to continue his journey, which he did crossing the
mountains into Bavaria by the way of Trent and Botzen.”
This at least is the account given by the Imperial biographer; while the
Veronese writers say that there is another side to the story, and that
no treachery was intended. Be that as it may it certainly did not tend
to improve the feeling entertained by the Emperor towards the people of
Verona, while it confirmed on their side the advisability of protecting
themselves as strongly as they could against the Imperial power and
vengeance. For this intent they joined the League then forming in
Lombardy (1164), which had for its object to arm against the common foe
and fight till they had vanquished him. The League was warmly
[Illustration: CHURCH OF S. ZENO. CAPITAL IN THE NAVE]
supported by Pope Alexander III., and subscribed to by the towns of
Verona, Padua, Vicenza, and the cities of the Marches. This federation
was soon afterwards joined by Venice, and aroused such anxiety in
Frederick’s mind that he hurried into Italy, collected as formidable an
army as he could get together at Pavia, and determined to lay waste the
country round Verona. The allies obtained a great triumph at Vigasio, in
the Veronese territory, when the Emperor without striking a blow retired
from before his foes, after having stood looking them in the face for
five whole days. The League gathered fresh strength from this graceless
retreat. More towns threw in their lot with the Guelph faction, and
Frederick’s cause losing ground daily was finally overthrown on May 29,
1176, at the battle of Legnano. The peace signed after this great fight
at Venice was witnessed by Bishop Ognibene of Verona, and the chief
magnates of the city, among whom were the Podestă Turrisendo; Sauro
di San Bonifacio, Count of Verona; two of the Avogadri family, and the
Judge Cozone. The peace was signed actually at Chioggia in July, and
soon after the Veronese delegates returned to their city where they
were received with honours and rejoicings. Their return coincided with
the completion of the basilica of S. Zeno “in pure, simple, most
beautiful Romanesque style, the most perfect work of art of Veronese
mediævalism.”[10] An inscription tells how the works were finished in
1178, and records that in the same year in which the campanile was
completed “peace was restored between the Church and the Emperor.”
Peace was however far from being the general order throughout the land.
Civil and intestinal wars were rife on every side; and each town of any
size or weight was split up into two factions which held either for the
Pope or Emperor, or occasionally for its own cause exclusively,
regardless of any interest outside the walls.
In the factions that raged between private families in Verona that of
the Montecchi and Cappelletti has obtained a renown as lasting as Time
itself, noticed as it is by no meaner writers than Dante and
Shakespeare. The Montecchi, as head of the Ghibelline faction in the
town, were also in constant strife with many other of their neighbours,
especially those who belonged to the opposite faction. A contest of more
than ordinary violence occurred on May 16, 1206, when the family of San
Bonifacio were at the head of the Guelph party. After a fierce encounter
the Montecchi were worsted and expelled from the city. Their rivals, in
order to strengthen their cause, appointed Azzo VI., Marquis of Este, to
be Podestă of Verona. This Azzo had formerly belonged to the
Ghibelline cause, but thought it more to his advantage to change his
politics and side with the Guelphs. The Montecchi though defeated were
not disheartened. They allied themselves with Bonifacio d’Este, the
uncle of Azzo, and his enemy from private as well as public reasons,
and, their ranks swelled by Ghibelline partisans, they returned in force
to reinstate themselves once more in their native city. This was in the
month of August of the same year. Azzo was seated in his council chamber
when his foes burst in upon him. He barely escaped with his life, and
had to retire from Verona leaving all he possessed behind him. Help
however came to him from Mantua and from his own followers in Verona,
and he likewise returned to the charge. The struggle lasted for over a
month; each tower and stronghold held by the two factions changing hands
constantly during that time. The Ghibelline faction was however the
weaker one; and though they knew their cause to be hopeless they
resolved to make a final and steady resistance in the only castle that
yet remained to them. No hope of mercy or of pardon deceived or
encouraged these desperate men. On the night of Saturday, September 8th,
they awaited the on-coming of the foe, who were equally determined on
their side to bring matters to an end. The attack was so well directed,
the number of assailants so overwhelming, the besieged had to surrender,
and were either put to the sword or taken captive. The castle was
dismantled and burnt; the prisoners were sent to different dungeons; and
the civil strife in the town was brought to a close for the time being.
Peace however was not the normal condition of those days, and this
example, cited from an old document which has come to light in recent
years, is only given to show the nature and duration of these civil
dissensions in a mediæval town.
The towns were not however blind to their own interests in so far as it
behoved them to unite against the Emperor of Germany and prevent his
gaining such a foothold in Italy as to jeopardise their liberties. The
Lombard League, which had originally been formed against Frederick
Barbarossa was renewed against his grandson Frederick II. in 1226 for a
period of twenty-five years; and in it the cities of Lombardy swore to
stand by one another, to preserve each other’s rights, and to maintain
mutual peace. The question of peace exercised the minds of all men in
Italy at that moment absorbingly. The Pope preached it from Rome in the
hopes of furthering the cause of the Crusades; the towns advocated it
from motives of commerce and industry; the nobles stood in need of it
for the quieting of those feuds and rivalries which were fast draining
their resources and undermining the life-blood of their families. In
Verona the plea for peace was advocated by a powerful Dominican
preacher, Fra Giovanni of Vicenza, a member of the noble family of
Schio. He met with an enthusiastic reception, for he was armed not only
with the Pope’s protection, but also with a purity of intention and zeal
for his mission which furthered his cause immeasurably. He convoked a
great assembly on the plain of Paquara, three miles outside Verona on
the banks of the Adige; and on August 28, 1233, no less than 400,000
people flocked to hear him preach, and to renounce their rivalries and
enmities at his bidding. “The whole population of Verona, Mantua,
Brescia, Padua and Vicenza,” says Sismondi, “was gathered on the plain
of Paquara, and the citizens of each of these Republics collected round
their magistrates and their _carroccios_ (war-chariots). The inhabitants
of Treviso, Venice, Ferrara, Modena, Reggio, Parma and Bologna were also
there, ranged round their standards; the bishops of Verona, Brescia,
Mantua, Bologna, Modena, Reggio, Treviso, Vicenza, Padua, the Patriarch
of Aquileja, the Marquis of Este, the lords of Romano, and all those of
the Veneto were there too at the head of their vassals.”[11]
The scene must have been a striking one, and unparalleled till then in
the annals of history. Fra Giovanni ascended a pulpit in the midst of
this vast concourse and harangued the crowd. He took for his text the
words, “Peace I leave with you, my peace I give unto you,” and commanded
his audience to forgive each other their offences and to follow after
peace. His injunctions were obeyed. Peace became for the moment the
universal law; the factions between the families of Este and da Romano
were laid aside; Guelphs consorted with Ghibellines, and foes who a few
days previously had met only to stab and outrage one another now
exchanged the kiss of peace and swore to remain friends.
The preacher’s injunctions to forgive injuries were not observed by him
himself when an excess of enthusiasm had raised him to the office of
chief magistrate of Verona. He ordered the execution of sixty men and
women belonging to the most respectable families of the town, whom he
condemned as heretics, and who were all burnt alive.
The success obtained by Fra Giovanni at the assembly at Paquara proved
his undoing. He became proud and ambitious; he aimed at becoming a ruler
in those towns where he had preached peace and goodwill, and after a
period of war, rebellion and imprisonment he retired to Bologna, shorn
of all glory and leaving Lombardy a prey to insurrection and strife.
Verona was no exception to this condition of affairs. Her state was torn
by rival factions, the one headed by the Counts of San Bonifacio; the
other by the Montecchi (or Monticoli), the latter of whom Shakespeare
has immortalized for us under the name of Montague. Their faction was
supported on more than one occasion by Ezzelino da Romano, who finally
succeeded in making himself lord of Verona, and who was thus the first
of the tyrants to oust the power of the Communes and introduce that of
the “_Signori_” in their stead. Ezzelino has left perhaps the most
unenviable record among all the bloodthirsty tyrants of the Middle Ages.
The Florentine historian Villani says of him that “he was the cruellest
and most redoubtable tyrant that ever existed among Christians. By his
might and tyranny he lorded it for a long time ... over the March of
Treviso, and the town of Padua, and a great part of Lombardy. He made
away with a fearful part of the citizens of Padua, and blinded a great
number, ever of the best and noblest among them, taking away their
possessions and sending them adrift to beg through the world. And many
others by divers torments and martyrdoms he put to death, and in one
hour caused 11,000 Paduans to be burnt.”
Nor has modern criticism passed a milder judgment on Ezzelino. Symonds
speaking of him in his history of _The Renaissance in Italy_, says:
“Ezzelino, a small, pale, wiry man with terror in his face and
enthusiasm for evil in his heart, lived a foe to luxury, cold to the
pathos of children, dead to the enchantment of women. His one passion
was the greed of power, heightened by the lust for blood. Originally a
noble of the Veronese Marches, he founded his illegal authority upon the
captaincy of the Imperial party delegated to him by Frederic. Verona,
Vicenza, Padua, Feltre and Belluno made him their captain in the
Ghibelline interest, conferring upon him judicial as well as military
supremacy. How he fearfully abused his power, how a crusade was
preached against him,[12] and how he died in silence like a boar at bay,
rending from his wounds the dressings that his foes had placed to keep
him alive are notorious matters of history.... Ezzelino made himself
terrible not merely by executions and imprisonments, but also by
mutilations and torments. When he captured Friola he caused the
population, of all ages, sexes, and occupations, to be deprived of their
eyes, noses, and legs, and to be cast forth to the mercy of the
elements. On another occasion he walled up a family of princes in a
castle and left them to die of famine. Wealth, eminence, and beauty
attracted his displeasure no less than insubordination or disobedience.
Nor was he less crafty than cruel. Sons betrayed their fathers, friends
their comrades under the fallacious safeguard of his promises. A
gigantic instance of his scheming was the coup-de-main by which he
succeeded in entrapping 11,000 Paduan soldiers, only 200 of whom escaped
the miseries of his prisons. Thus by his absolute contempt of law, his
inordinate cruelty, his prolonged massacres, and his infliction of
plagues upon whole peoples, Ezzelino established the ideal in Italy of a
tyrant marching to his end by any means whatever.”[13]
He must indeed ever rank as one of the most inhuman and brutal of
monsters as far as bloodthirstiness and cruelty are concerned, but not
even his bitterest foes can deny his talents as a warrior, his
indomitable pluck, his energy, his presence of mind, no matter how great
a difficulty encountered him, and his resource in the hour of danger. No
defeat daunted him; no failure depressed him. He would originate some
way out of a dilemma however inextricable it might seem; and in spite
of overwhelming conditions he was never at his wits’ ends for an
expedient. He succeeded in making himself recognised as lord of the
towns of Verona, Vicenza, Padua, Feltre, Belluno, and Trent; and no
Imperial league was formed in the North of Italy which did not include
him as one of its most powerful members. In May 1238 his marriage with
Selvaggia, a natural daughter of the Emperor Frederick II., was
celebrated at S. Zeno at Verona; and a month later on the green in front
of the same church Ezzelino and the Podestă of Verona, Bonaccorso del
Palŭ, swore fealty to the Emperor and to his son Conrad. Their oath
was received by Pier della Vigna, the Emperor’s famous chancellor, who
according to Dante, “held both the keys of the heart of Frederick.”[14]
Ezzelino made as short work of his foes in Verona as in other towns.
Their houses were thrown down; their persons tortured and killed. The
house of San Bonifacio fared badly at his hands: the castle was
dismantled (1243) and stands to this day in ruins; and most of the
partisans of that noble house shared grimly in the discomfiture of their
chief. After a successful career of thirty-three years Ezzelino’s star
began to wane. His enemies--and he had many--resolved to make head
against the designs he was now beginning to formulate against Milan, and
opposed his forces on the Adda. He was defeated and taken to Soncino,
where he died October 1, 1259, tearing open, it is said, his wounds with
his own hands, preferring death rather than to see the overthrow of his
schemes. The legends and fables which are circulated round Ezzelino are
numerous and fantastic. Some have insisted that he was the child of the
devil, no human mind and intellect being capable of committing the
horrors and bloodthirsty deeds which he is said to have perpetrated.
Dante places him in Hell in the “Bolgia” among the “tyrants who
delighted in blood and gave themselves thereto.”[15]
The death of Ezzelino da Romano marks a change in Italian politics. The
power of the Communes was henceforward to disappear entirely, and that
of the “_Signori_” to come to the fore. In Verona the news of Ezzelino’s
death, far from rousing the citizens to rejoicings over their restored
liberty, awoke in them only the desire to re-establish the dignity and
power of the Podestă so that in the hands of a chief magistrate their
rights should be respected. Their choice fell upon Mastino della Scala,
the son of one Jacopino della Scala, whose name first appears among
those who formed a covenant with the people of Cremona in 1254.
The mention of the Scaligers brings with it the period of Verona’s
greatest prosperity. The art, the literature, the romance of the city
centres round the years in which the della Scalas reigned as lords of
Verona, and in which they brought the town to a degree of prominence and
splendour and importance which she had never reached before and to which
she never attained again. The cruelties of Ezzelino da Romano were
instrumental in bringing the della Scala family into notice. No less
than three persons of that name had been put to death by Ezzelino, who
were supposed to be some relations, even if not very near ones, of the
new Podestă. The efforts made by some writers to claim an old and
exalted lineage for the Scaligers has not been crowned with much
success. One legend, based however on no very trustworthy
[Illustration: THE TRIBUNA--ANCIENT SEAT OF JUDGMENT, PIAZZA D’ERBE]
foundation, says that they sprang from a man of poor, nay vile
condition, of the name of Jacopo Fico, who made ladders and sold them,
and that from this the family took its name. The most generally accepted
idea is though that Mastino della Scala, the first of the name who
sprang into notability and who may be considered as the founder of the
family, was a man of modest origin, and whose line in life was of a
commercial nature. His position was a prominent one during Ezzelino’s
reign of oppression and bloodshed; and that the tyrant had shown him
some regard implies in itself that Mastino had known how to merit it. He
was an absolute Ghibelline as to politics, a warrior ever ready to serve
his country, and a worthy ancestor of the great men who followed him.
Cipolla meanwhile bids us observe that neither as Podestă, nor as
Captain was he lord of Verona in the literal sense of the words; he was
only the first of the citizens, and never more than that.
[Illustration: OLD SEAL OF VERONA]