Great Council did not consist so much in any regular elections yearly
as in a close limitation of the class of candidates, and the fact that
it was necessary that they should be elected by the Council of Forty;
whereas in former times they were elected by the people, represented in
their turn by one or two electors in each of the six regions of the
city, or else by two electors from the regions on one side of the canal,
and two from the regions on the other.
Little attention has been paid to the law of 1298, which at the time
appeared to be of secondary importance, but which had close connection
with the others that had been framed by the aristocracy. The law of 1298
established that no one should belong to the Forty who had not already
sat in the Grand Council, or whose father or grandfather had not sat
there. By this law each assembly was strictly dependent on the other,
and the right to sit in the one, like the possibility of sitting in the
other, became a privilege of noble birth.
The aristocracy had now completely got the upper hand, almost without a
struggle, by skill, persuasion, and tact. Henceforth the history of
Venice is that of the nobility, who had monopolised the power, and, with
it, all responsibility. If Venice was great, healthy, and vigorous in
the fourteenth century, she owed it to the nobles, who still treated the
people generously and kindly. And later on, when the people allowed
themselves to be intoxicated with the amusements provided them while
their last rights were trodden under foot, the nobles were to blame. So
they were, too, in the end, when the Lion of Saint Mark was torn down
from its column in the Piazzetta and broken upon a soil no longer free.
The people were not oppressed at any time, but they suffered what was
morally worse, for they were systematically hypnotised into a state of
utter indifference to real liberty.
The assemblage of so many nobles in the hall of the Great Council must
have presented a splendid spectacle. It was rigidly required that all
should wear the cloak, or toga, of violet cloth, with its wide sleeves
and hood lined with warm fur in winter and with ermine in the milder
seasons. Here and there a few red mantles made points of colour, those
of the High Chancellor and of the avogadori of the commonwealth, though
the latter appear to have worn only a red stole over the cloak of
violet. There were black cloaks, too, and they marked the ecclesiastics
who belonged to the Council, for until 1498 priests who proved that they
were nobles were eligible like the other members of their family.
[Sidenote: _Rom. ii. 263._]
When the Council was to meet, an official called the ‘comandatore,’ a
sort of public crier, proclaimed the summons from a fragment of a
porphyry column, which stood upside down on its capital at the corner of
the Piazza of Saint Mark towards the ducal palace, and another issued
the proclamation from the steps of the Rialto, these being the two most
frequented points of the city; at the same time full notice was given of
the offices which were to be distributed at the coming Council by the
High Chancellor. At the appointed hour the cavaliers appeared in the
neighbourhood of Saint Mark’s, spurring their comely mules; but it was
forbidden to cross the Piazza itself, except on foot, because it was
paved, so that the riders left their mules tied up to the elderbushes
[Illustration: THE FLAGS FLYING IN THE PIAZZA]
which formed a thick growth, exactly on the spot where now stands the
Clock Tower at the entrance to the Merceria.
About 1356 the public crier’s office was abolished, his place being
supplied by the ringing of a bell in the tower of Saint Mark, in the
evening after vespers, when the Council was to meet on the following
morning, and
[Sidenote: _Galliccioli, i. 245._]
at the hour of tierce (half-way between dawn and noon), if it was to
meet in the afternoon. At the time of assembling in council this bell
was rung again, and the people nicknamed it the ‘trotter,’ because
councillors who came late always
[Illustration: THE CAMPANILE]
reached the entrance to the Piazza at a sharp trot before the last
strokes had rung.
By this time the appearance of the Piazza and the Piazzetta had been
considerably modified. The ‘Rivo Battario,’ which formerly ran through
the length of the square, had been filled up; the little church of Saint
Gemignano had been demolished, and the great
[Illustration: A WHITE MORNING FROM S. GEORGIO
The Campanile, 1903]
[Illustration]
[Sidenote: _Rom. ii. 361._]
Campanile had been built. The nobles used to meet before the Council
upon the old platform, which was turned into a convenient place for
walking, and here also there was built a covered loggia, as a protection
in bad weather. The first time that a young patrician came to the
Council, either on his election by lot after the manner of the
‘Barbarella,’ or because he had reached his twenty-fifth birthday, a
little ceremony took place on the platform or under the loggia, in which
he was presented to his older colleagues, and a sort of civil bond began
here between the man who was introduced and the person or persons who
introduced him, which lasted through life, and received the general name
of ‘sponsorship.’ I may remind the reader here that all bonds of
sponsorship, called generally ‘comparatico’ throughout Italy, are under
the special protection of Saint John the Baptist, and even now have an
importance which foreigners find it hard to understand.
Before the meeting of the Council the throng on the platform was swelled
by those who came to solicit the councillors on private matters of their
own, or were seeking offices or dignities which it lay with the Great
Council to bestow, such as judgeships and magistracies. The ‘private
matters’ might include anything connected with taxation, money loans,
laws in general, pardons, and even the public peace and national
alliances.
A curious custom was connected with such interviews. Those who had
favours to ask of the Great
[Sidenote: _Galliccioli, i. 355._]
[Sidenote: _Mut. Costumi._]
Council were accustomed to show their respect by taking the strip of
cloth that hung down from their shoulder to the ground on the right
side, and tying it or rolling it upon the arm, and this action was
called ‘calar stola,’ and appears to have been the equivalent of the
later custom by which the inferior takes off his hat to speak with his
superior.
If any member of the Great Council had recently been bereaved of a near
relation, it was upon the platform or under the loggia that he received
the condolences of his peers, being himself wrapped in a black mantle
with a train, of which the length diminished little by little as his
time of mourning came to an end, until at last it was only a short black
cloak; this in its turn was replaced by a simple leathern belt worn over
the ordinary clothes instead of the usual girdle, which was made of
velvet.
This meeting of the nobles in the Square was naturally the occasion for
carrying on all sorts of intrigues; and in Venice, as in the early days
of ancient Rome, the relations of client and patron played a large part
in public affairs, and were productive of no small evil, especially in
the creation of great numbers of minor offices merely for the purpose of
satisfying the claims of dependents.
So the nobles loitered and talked between the Campanile and the two
columns, one of red and the other of grey stone, which stand near the
Grand Canal. These two columns, which had been brought
[Sidenote: _Lazzari, Guida._]
[Sidenote: _Gall. i. 271._]
to Venice from the archipelago in 1127, under the Doge Domenico Michiel,
had been set up about fifty years later by the skill of a certain
Lombard named Nicola Barattiere. A chronicler tells in Venetian dialect
that this engineer went to the Signoria, asked for ropes, timber, and
beams, and then set to work with eight men, and no more. He drove down
piles for the foundations, and having completed these in seven days he
set up the columns on the eighth by means of ropes and capstans. When he
was asked what reward he wished for his work, he only requested that so
long as Venice should exist his descendants should be enfranchised and
be free to keep gaming-tables between the two columns he had set
up--contrary to the law which forbade all games of chance in Venice--and
he asked for a decent lodging for himself and a small stipend. It may be
noted that his name, ‘Barattiere,’ means at once a money-changer and a
dishonest gambler, and it may have been given to him as a nickname after
the fact. At all events, his requests were granted, and he set up gaming
establishments, with tables, between the columns for his own profit. At
a later time this privilege became a monopoly of other speculators, and
it only ceased to exist in 1529, nearly three hundred and fifty years
later, when the destruction of all gaming-tables and booths, which
marred the beauty of the Square, was commanded by the government.
This story recalls the action of Charles II., who, in order to reward
certain Cavaliers who had sacrificed their fortunes in his interest,
and finding himself insufficiently
[Illustration: ST. THEODORE]
supplied with funds, conceded to a number of them the right to keep
gambling-tables between the columns and under the arches of Covent
Garden. These persons were known as ‘lottery Cavaliers.’
[Sidenote: _Dalmedico._]
At the end of the thirteenth century the Lion of Saint Mark had been
placed upon one of the two columns in the Piazzetta, while upon the
other was set up the statue of Saint Theodore, the co-patron of the
city; so that the common people of Venice, by way of expressing that a
man was driven to the last extremity, used to say, ‘He is between Mark
and Theodore.’ In connection with the column of Saint Mark it is worth
while to quote the answer given not many years ago by a gondolier to a
lady in regard to the emblem of Saint Mark. All the other winged lions
visible in Venice hold an open book under their paw, and the book is
placed in such a way that one may read the usual motto--‘Pax tibi,
Marce.’ But though the book of the lion on the column is really open, it
lies down, so that from below it appears to be shut; and the lady in
question inquired of her gondolier what the cause of this difference
might be. ‘It is because,’ replied the gondolier, ‘when a man got
between these columns his account was closed’! The story shows how
vividly the people still remember that the gallows were sometimes
erected there. It seems strange, however, that the young patricians,
while waiting for the first hour of the Council, should have patronised
gaming-tables set up so close to the place of public execution, and it
is now generally considered that executions originally took place
between the red columns in the high first story of the ducal palace,
overlooking the Square, and that the object of transferring them to the
spot between the columns of the Piazzetta was to drive people away from
gambling there.
After this brief glance at the development of the aristocracy and its
legal institution as the ruling caste, it is necessary to consider the
nature of that body which lay between it and the working people, and
which included all well-to-do Venetian citizens in general.
[Sidenote: _Daru, i. 314._]
For in Venice, as in most countries where the social equilibrium of
large numbers of mankind is natural and not artificial, the population
had long separated spontaneously into three classes. As long as the work
of organising the new republic was going on the three fraternised, for
the law granted no privilege to any one, and the men who imposed their
opinions and their will upon the rest, without any sort of violence,
were without doubt the most gifted members of the community. Nothing, as
Daru justly observes, assured to the nobles, up to the end of the
thirteenth century, any right not possessed by all the other citizens.
Nevertheless, as he adds, the important office of High Chancellor had
been especially reserved for non-nobles several years before the closing
of the Great Council, which shows that custom, if not law, accorded
other privileges to the descendants of the early tribunes.
It was not to be expected that after the final closure of the Great
Council all the rest of the people should remain in a condition of
thoroughly legal equality. There were, for instance, artists of great
merit,
[Sidenote: _Rom. ix. 8._]
magistrates whose families throughout many generations had commanded the
general respect, and were by no means willing to be thus forced down to
the level of the fishermen of the lagoons. The nobles considered that
this high middle class constituted a danger to themselves by its wealth
and solidarity, and special measures were taken to propitiate it. As
early as 1298, and while the noble class was acquiring its legal
existence, we find mention of the citizen class, and of the manner in
which it was divided. To belong to it certain requisites became
necessary; he who aspired to its privileges must have been born in
Venice of parents properly married, and without any taint of
criminality; he was to owe nothing to the State, to have been exact in
the duties of standing guard, etc., and he was obliged to prove that
during three generations none of his ascendants had followed any
mechanical or vulgar trade.
[Sidenote: _A. Baschet, Archives, 133._]
In the same way in which the so-called ‘Golden Book’ of the aristocracy
was compiled little by little under the supervision of the avogadori of
the commonwealth, who were themselves chosen from the citizen class, at
least in the beginning, so also under their authority another book was
begun, called the ‘Silver Book,’ in which were inscribed the names of
citizens ‘de jure,’ afterwards called ‘original citizens.’ After the
closure of the Great Council the office of High Chancellor continued to
be strictly reserved to this class, as when the office itself had been
created some years earlier. It was of a nature
[Sidenote: _A. Baschet, Archives, 138._]
[Sidenote: _Mutinelli, Lessico._]
to satisfy any reasonable and justifiable ambition. The High Chancellor
was the head of the ducal chancery; he signed all public acts, all
nominations to any important office, and was present at all the most
secret meetings of the Councils, though only as a witness, and never
with the right to vote. He was elected by the Great Council, and took
office with a ceremony almost as solemn as that accorded to the Doge
himself, and like the latter he held his position for life; he received
a generous salary, and had precedence over all nobles, both in meetings
and processions, both over the nobility of the Great Council and over
the sons and brothers of the Doge, and was preceded only by the
procurators of Saint Mark and by the six counsellors of the Doge. He
wore the ducal purple with scarlet stockings, was forbidden to dress in
black in public, and like the Doge he was privileged to wear his hat on
all occasions. The form of address used to the head of the Republic was
‘Domino, Domino’; that used in addressing the Chancellor was ‘Domino,’
without repetition; whereas all other patricians were addressed as
‘Messer,’ the usual prefix to the names of knights throughout Italy.
When the High Chancellor died his funeral took place in Saint Mark’s
with a pomp equal to that accorded to a dead doge.
Very valuable privileges were attached to the condition of a citizen ‘de
jure’; all chancellors were taken from those included in the ‘Silver
Book,’ so that in the course of time, in the fourteenth century, a
special course of study was prescribed for young men destined for that
career; and those who embraced it were
[Illustration: S. SEVERO]
frequently sent to the smaller courts of Europe as ‘ministers resident,’
but not as ambassadors, and they could aspire to the highest commands in
the army.
From all this it is clear that the position of the ‘original citizen’
class in Venice had a strong resemblance to that of the ‘magistrate’
class in France, for instance; and on the whole it had enough privileges
to ensure its not being hostile to the nobility.
The art of glass-making contributed in such a degree to the wealth of
Venice that glass-makers were regarded as benefactors of the State, and
all the glass-makers of Murano were inscribed from their birth in the
class of citizens ‘de jure.’ Another very wise measure of the Venetian
government with regard to this intermediate class between the
aristocracy and the people was the concession of its privileges to
foreign persons of respectable origin established in Venice. It was only
in the middle of the fourteenth century that citizenship ‘by grace’ was
regularly admitted, and it was of two kinds: the one ‘de intus,’ and the
other ‘de intus et de extra.’ The first conferred only a certain number
of privileges, as that of engaging in commerce, and of holding some
office of secondary importance in the public administration; the second
conferred the full privileges enjoyed by the citizens ‘de jure,’
including those of sending vessels to sea under the flag of Saint Mark,
and of carrying on business in the cities and ports where Venetian
commerce was established, with the full rights of a Venetian.
Although it was only in 1450 that the law regularised the admission to
citizenship, a number of admissions took place before the time of the
foundation of the caste.
[Sidenote: _Molmenti, Vita Privata, 48._]
The miserable conditions of navigation in the fourteenth century, and
the depredations of pirates, caused many to request the privilege of
navigating under the protection of the Venetian Republic. Those who
asked this were generally noble and rich persons. For instance, in 1301
we find the favour asked by the Scrovegni of Padua, by Azzone, Marquis
of Este and Ancona, in 1304 by the lords of Camino, mentioned by Dante,
by Ludovico Gonzaga, lord of Mantua, and many others. Venice not
infrequently offered the title of citizen, with all rights belonging to
it, to persons who had exhibited special marks of talent in other parts
of Italy; it was offered to Messer Ravagnino, a student of physical
science in Belluno, and to Petrarch. It was frequently given to
foreigners who had lived as long as twenty-five years in the city, and
to others who had voluntarily submitted during a certain number of years
to standing guard, paying taxes, and the like; and further, to those
who, having married Venetian women of the citizen class, desired to fix
their residence in the island of Rialto. Among the foreigners who were
thus generally adopted, some of the most interesting in the fourteenth
century were the inhabitants of Lucca, who between 1310 and 1340 fled
before the tyranny of Castruccio Castracane. These were about thirty
families, almost all of which had been in their own country spinners and
weavers of silk, and they had brought a numerous retinue of weavers and
spinners with them. The Venetians at once understood the advantage to be
derived from this immigration of an
[Sidenote: _Galliccioli, ii. 274._]
industrious people. Until then the richest stuffs had been imported from
the East, but from this time forward Venice began to develop a new
industry. The fugitive families were received not only with courtesy,
but with something like enthusiasm. The Senate assigned them a quarter
in the Calle della Bissa, between the square of the Rialto and the
church of Saint John Chrysostom, allowing them to govern themselves with
their own magistrates, on condition that they should teach their art to
the Venetians. The same courtesies were extended in the case of German
and Armenian colonies. The race of Venetian citizens in this way
received a new element, with new prospects of life and industry, by the
introduction of the best element that could possibly have come to Venice
from without. The Jews, however, attempted in vain at the same time to
obtain the same liberty of existence in Venice. After being barely
tolerated during fifty years, and kept under the closest supervision,
they were at the end of the fourteenth century ignominiously expelled
from the city, and obliged to keep within the confines of Mestre. I have
not been able to discover the date at which they were again allowed to
reside within the city in the quarter which is still pointed out as
theirs.
A singular circumstance, already noticed in passing, presents itself in
connection with all the conspiracies of the fourteenth century. The
people continually sided with the nobles who had deprived them of their
power, and they outnumbered them and were superior to them in strength
and moral force. They never lent any important help to any one who
attempted to rouse rebellion against the existing civil order. It can
hardly be supposed that this was the result of indolence, or of a lack
of patriotism, since the Venetians were naturally very proud and
extremely energetic. They seem to have considered themselves as bound to
the aristocracy by the bond of gratitude, of common memories, and of
common hopes; and while they led an existence of generous comfort and
ease, it satisfied them to be joint possessors of a country which had
grown glorious in Europe. They looked upon the Venetian nobility as the
first in the world, and Molmenti says, with truth, that the surnames of
certain great Venetian families not yet extinct existed before the names
of even reigning families were known in the rest of Europe. Until quite
modern times, the ‘people’ very rarely gave any trouble unless they were
hungry.
[Sidenote: _Sagredo._]
It has already been noticed here that in the other Italian republics the
great houses had nothing in common with the people they ruled--neither
their origin, nor their traditional points or view, nor even as a rule
their interests; and more than once they showed themselves ready to sell
their country to the highest bidder, regarding it as their adoptive
rather than their real home, and the population as property that went
with the fields.
But the nobles of Venice were true Venetians, and their ancestors had
led those of their own people, by sheer superiority, before Venice had
been founded; and the government of the islands had in reality been
always aristocratic. The people had really never had much to say beyond
confirming by a sort of acclamation the result of elections held by the
nobles. The individual elected was sure to be one of the latter, chosen
for his courage in war, or for his pious generosity in founding a church
or a monastery in time of peace.
The Serrata only made a law of a practice which had existed a long time;
and this sufficiently explains why the people did not rebel against it,
accepting laws which only affected formalities, without in any way
threatening the true sources of the Republic’s vitality. The nobles
legally monopolised a power which they had always succeeded in reserving
for themselves; but the State did not monopolise commerce, nor industry,
except as regards the salt trade and shipbuilding, and in these
occupations the workmen received such compensation that many of them
grew rich.
Furthermore, the government supported all persons not able to work for
themselves. Men and women who had reached an age at which heavy manual
labour was no longer possible, but who were not helpless enough to do
nothing, were licensed to sell vegetables and fruit in the public
squares; but the State and the guilds supported regular asylums for the
aged and infirm, for cripples, for widows, and for old sailors. Every
one felt that the State could be relied upon, and no one feared to die
of hunger.
The closing of the Great Council might affect the ambitious designs of a
few men who had recently grown
[Illustration: S. PIETRO IN CASTELLO]