GRADENIGO, TIEPOLO, AND THE COUNCIL OF TEN.
A new era was inaugurated in Venice by the fall of Constantinople.
Prosperous and powerful as the Republic had previously been, it now
sprang, as if by magic, into a position of which her most ambitious
and far-seeing statesmen could not have dreamed.
A little more than a quarter of a century had elapsed since the visit
of Pope Alexander, at which time sixty-five thousand was the highest
estimate that could be made of her population; now, at the end of the
Fourth Crusade, her nominal sovereignty embraced millions of souls,
and the actual numbers within the borders of the Republic itself had
vastly increased. The new territory and the various rights and
privileges which she had acquired in the Lower Empire had largely
increased her commerce and the sources of her wealth, and she
hastened to make all these advantages permanent by a liberal and wise
system of colonization.
At the beginning of the thirteenth century the Venetian nobility was
the most powerful and opulent class in the world, as well as the most
polished and enlightened, and were everywhere held in the highest
consideration as men, soldiers, and diplomats. In the history of the
Republic one fact stands forth prominently,--the devotion of
Venetians to Venice,--devotion to the Republic, and to her elevation
to the highest ideal of which they could conceive. To this end her
sons directed all their powers, and were willing to sink their
personality in her aggrandizement.
{91}
Not in a spirit of humility, for never a prouder race existed; but it
was the pride of patriotism which moved them,--pride if by any act
they could add to the stature of the Republic. Not in any spirit of
sacrifice, for they felt it no hardship to spend and be spent if only
the name of Venice could thereby be made more resonant wherever it
was spoken. Venetians were united in one aim,--that Venice should be
the most beautiful and most powerful of cities. And so it happens
that in the voluminous records of her history and life, while they
give a vivid realization of the thought, energy, and power which
thousands of her sons must have possessed and must have dedicated to
her glory; while as one reads he may almost hear the hum of her busy
life and feel the throbbing of her pulses, little prominence is given
to individuals. It is not of men nor of family that we read; it is
of Venice, first, last, and always.
Often as the names of Contarini, Michieli, Ziani, Dandolo, and
Tiepolo appear, no one family ever held absolute power, or was
independent of the others. Was this the result of their jealousy of
one another? Perhaps; and it answered a great end. Never was Venice
at the mercy of a race like the Medici or Visconti; and when the
great ambition of her sons was turned from personal exaltation and
centred in the good of the State, it became an overmastering passion,
and could but produce glorious results. Ten times it happened that
the Republic was on the verge of ruin; and as many times did its
leaders in Council, Senate, and College, together with the Doge,
stake all they possessed for the preservation of Venice, and always
with success.
The wisdom of its laws conduced to bring about this state of things;
for every boy of the noble class knew that at twenty years of age he
must appear before the proper magistrate and claim admission to the
Great Council, he being the legitimate son of one whose name was in
the {92} Libro d' Oro. From that day, if he had ability, he must be
a servant of Venice. He could follow no personal tastes in studies
or pursuits. A refusal to accept appointments was subject to so
heavy a fine as to occur but rarely. At the age of twenty-five, the
beginning of manhood, he must enter the Great Council, serve on
laborious committees, go thence to the Senate, and be elected or
appointed to one position after another that demanded all his power
of service. Sometimes he must fill several offices at once, and to
the last day of life he can give himself no repose if the State finds
his service valuable. No matter how old he is, nor how feeble, if
Venice chooses him for her Doge, he must assume the beretta, the
mantle of gold and ermine, and bear them as well as he can until the
end of life brings his release.
Thus, by the middle of the thirteenth century the Venetians were held
in the highest consideration throughout the civilized world, and
still their reputation was increasing. The voice of Venice was
powerful in every cabinet; her flag was respected on every sea; and,
in fact, from the Great Council of Venice magistrates were chosen to
rule in other parts of Italy where the native governing class was
violent in its jealousies. To Milan, Bologna, Padua, and other
important cities had these Venetians been called, and wherever they
ruled the influence of Venice was potent. The intimate knowledge of
the affairs of other provinces and cities which these Venetian
governors gained was shared with the home government, and many
advantages accrued from it.
The thirteenth century was an intermediate period, so to speak; for
it followed the tremendous efforts with which the twelfth century
closed and preceded the period when Venice reached its greatest glory
and prosperity. It was largely spent in adjusting the Republic to
the new conditions consequent upon its greatly enlarged territory,
{93} and in changes of matters of internal policy. There were
struggles in its colonies, struggles with Genoa and with the Papal
See, as well as insurrections and serious party differences at home.
A large anti-patrician party had arisen, and an effort was made to
return to the old method of electing the Doge by acclamation. So
bitter were the troubles with Rome that the Republic was laid under
an interdict, and all the offices of religion strictly forbidden; and
had not Martin IV. died suddenly in 1286, Venice must have suffered
unspeakably from his severity. But the advent of a new Pope gave an
opportunity for a reconciliation, and it is believed that the
principal condition of the peace made with Rome in 1289 was the
establishment of the Inquisition in Venice. This was the last act
approved by Giovanni Dandolo. Prior to this date there had been
trials of heretics from time to time, but no permanent institution
had existed. Indeed, the Republic had stood out against the wishes
and commands of ten Pontiffs, and even now such restrictions were
placed upon the Holy Office as disarmed it of much of its power and
danger.
Two months later, in November, 1289, Giovanni Dandolo died, and the
time and occasion had come when the Democracy had determined to
assert themselves. They congregated in large numbers in the Piazza
of San Marco, and declared Giacomo Tiepolo to be elected Doge by
acclamation. Two centuries before, this sort of revolution had been
successful, but a different order of things now existed.
Tiepolo was a sincere democrat; he was a wise and good man, one of
those whose love of Venice far exceeded his love of self. He knew
that his party could not succeed, and that such an attempt to
overcome established customs could only end in the gravest
consequences; accordingly he hastened to withdraw from the contest,
and {94} retired to Villa Marocco to await the result of the
election. His party, thus abandoned, seemed to disappear from the
stage; but the tumult had proved to those in power that still firmer
ground must be taken to secure the ascendancy of the aristocracy. To
further this end, Pietro Gradenigo (contemptuously called Perazzo)
was elected Doge in the usual manner.
Gradenigo was not a popular man, as the corruption of his name shows,
for Perazzo was not a complimentary title, and he was known as a firm
supporter of the patrician party. Many remonstrances against his
election were made by the opposition; but the democrats were not
organized, they had no reliable leaders nor any settled plan, and the
firm determination of the aristocrats carried things with a high hand.
The deputy who was sent to announce the election of Gradenigo to the
National Assembly pronounced the formula, "Pietro Gradenigo is your
Doge, if it please you," and at once withdrew. As no dissent was
heard by this deputy, the election was considered legal. Gradenigo
was at Capo d' Istria; and a squadron of honor, carrying twelve
noblemen as his escort, was sent to announce his election and invite
his return.
And now commenced a reign which continued twenty-two years
(1289-1311), during which time the most important changes were made
in the government of Venice; serious wars were undertaken, and great
disasters encountered; the Republic was placed under the ban of the
Church; grave revolutions occurred. Indeed, these years seem not to
have had a day that was not heavy with important results; and yet, as
we now review them after the lapse of centuries, we know that the
effect of wars, insurrections, interdict, and plague combined, did
not compare in importance with two great political changes which were
brought about under Gradenigo's leadership,--the {95} closing of the
Great Council (_Serrata del Consiglio Maggiore_), and the
establishment of the Council of Ten.
Daniel Barbaro sums up the character of Gradenigo thus:--
"He was a person of infinite astuteness and sagacity. For the vigor
of his understanding and the soundness of his judgment he was not
more remarkable than for his constancy of purpose and firmness of
will. In the prosecution of his formed designs his energy and
resolution were indomitable. As an orator, his delivery was fluent,
his language copious, and his manner persuasive. Toward his friends
and partisans, no one was more urbane in deportment, more profuse in
kindness, more apparently studious to please. Toward those who had
provoked his enmity, no one could be more unforgiving and implacable.
In politics he was a dexterous tactician and an habitual dissembler;
and he at all times evinced a backwardness to employ force, until
intrigue and artifice were exhausted."
There is little doubt that Gradenigo was pledged to fully carry out
the policy of the aristocrats. By a certain management they had been
essentially in power for a long time, but occasionally they were made
to realize the dissatisfaction of the people and their claim to
authority. The time was favorable for the politicians to perfect and
initiate their schemes, almost unnoticed by the people, who were
fully occupied with the Genoese war, which gave them much anxiety and
distracted their thoughts from what was being quietly done in their
very midst. The intent of the closing of the Great Council was to
exclude from election all save the aristocrats; it is thus explained
by Romanin:--
"The citizens were divided into three classes: first, those who
neither in their own persons nor through their ancestors had ever
formed part of the Great Council; second, those whose progenitors had
been members of it; third, those who were themselves members of the
Council, both they and their fathers. {96} The first were called new
men, and were never admitted save by special grace; the second class
were included from time to time; finally, the third were elected by
full right."
This measure was not perfected without much diplomacy extending over
many years,--indeed, it may he said to have been initiated in
1172,--and when it was finally accomplished Venice was ruled by an
oligarchy beyond dispute, and for all time. It was confirmed in the
statute-book when all Venice was occupied with the fitting out of the
great fleet to be commanded by the Admiral Andrea Dandolo. The
Genoese war had thus far been uncertain in its results, the advantage
being sometimes on one side, and again on the other, until the
Venetians were thoroughly aroused, and willing to contribute money
and men, and to do everything possible to put an end to this
vexatious conflict.
Dandolo's fleet numbered ninety-five vessels, and carried more than
thirty thousand fighting men. One man-of-war was fitted out and
commanded by Marco Polo, lately returned from travels in Tartary and
other countries then rarely visited. So rich was he that he was
called "Messer Marco Milioni;" and but for his engaging in this war
our knowledge of him to-day might have been confined to this title.
The fleet sailed from Venice early in September, 1298, and proceeded
down the Adriatic to the island of Curzola, where Dandolo learned
that Lampa Doria, with the Genoese fleet, was approaching. He had
but seventy-eight ships, many of them being much larger and heavier
than those of the Venetians. Doria had hoped to reach Venice before
Dandolo sailed, and was much chagrined to find the enemy's squadron
stretched across the gulf in three lines, completely barring his
passage.
Doria was so impressed by the superiority of the Venetians, and so
well knew their indomitable spirit, that he {97} at once gave up the
thought of a battle, and sent to Dandolo to arrange terms of
submission, offering to give up all his stores. Dandolo answered
that the only terms he would accept were those of the unconditional
surrender of the Genoese. This acted like a tonic on the courage of
Doria and his men, and they determined to fight. Ten Genoese galleys
were placed in concealment behind the island, and the remaining
sixty-eight were disposed in line of battle.
Dandolo, finding that he was so placed that his men must fight with
both the sun and wind in their faces, began to doubt the wisdom of
his haughty and insolent reply, and decided to consult the civil
councillors who had been sent from Venice as his advisers. Dandolo
did not hesitate from fear, but from common prudence, which
recognized the disadvantages he must encounter. But the civilians in
their ignorance and arrogance urged him to fight, and he at once
proceeded to do all in his power to overcome his unfortunate position.
The action took place on Sunday, September 8; and in the very
beginning the Venetians crashed down on the Genoese, and ten of their
vessels were sunk with every soul on board. The sea was strewn with
the débris of these ships, and for some hours it seemed that victory
still, as ever, attended the Venetians. As the ships met, the
Venetians did not hesitate to board those of the enemy, who, knowing
their fate if captured by the men of the Republic, fought like wild
beasts in despair. Wounded men were hurled into the sea; many were
crushed between the ships; the vessels of the two admirals were in
conflict for hours, and the Venetians had almost won the day, when
suddenly the wind changed, and several Venetian galleys were driven
on the coast and completely wrecked.
Now all was changed; vainly did Dandolo exert every power to
encourage his men and restore order; vainly did Quirini, Marco Polo,
and other brave men expose their {98} lives with patriotic devotion;
vainly did the men of Zara and Chioggia perform feats of valor;
twelve captains were seized with such fear that they took to flight,
and thus led to irretrievable defeat.
Doria quickly perceived his advantage, and his order to advance flew
all along his line like lightning. A struggle followed which in
desperation and loss of life has rarely been equalled, never
surpassed. The conflict seemed still so equal that neither side
could feel the confidence of success, when suddenly the Genoese, by a
skilful movement, forced the Venetian centre, their reserve came up,
and the rout of the Venetians was complete. The only vessels saved
were the twelve which ran away; eighty-three were foundered in action
or fell into the hands of the enemy, who dismantled and burned nearly
all of them.
Five thousand Venetians were prisoners to the Genoese; the number
killed was not known; Dandolo and Marco Polo, who had shown the most
impetuous daring and bravery, were taken alive, and all the
misgivings with which the brave admiral had opened the battle were
more than justified.
"The spectacle which presents itself at Curzola on that terrible 8th
of September, after the action, can be pictured more easily than
described. In the evening the followers of Doria are seen in a
dreamy and trance-like posture, holding with tremulous hands the palm
which they have so dearly won, and thinking of the reply which they
must give when, on their return, mothers ask for their children, and
children for their fathers, who have lost their liberty or their
lives on that too eventful day. Curzola hears no shouts of victory,
no songs of triumph; several thousand Genoese have felt the edge of
Venetian steel; several thousand Venetians see before their dim and
feverish vision the horror and ignominy of a Genoese dungeon; and as
the sun goes down on the conquerors and the conquered, {99} its
serene effulgence affords a striking contrast to the deep lurid hue
which has been imparted to the sky for several miles around by the
gradual immersion of sixty galleys in a sea of belching fire."
Even the Genoese writers speak of this victory as fortuitous; the
losses of the combatants were nearly equal, and the squadrons were
well matched, as the superior number of the Venetian ships was fully
compensated by the size and strength of the opposing vessels; and
even after the change of the wind, if the heroic conduct of Dandolo
and his chiefs, of the Zaratines and Chioggians, had not been
neutralized by the infamous desertion of twelve ships, the victory
might yet have been with the Lion of St. Mark.
"No joy-bells or other manifestations of popular enthusiasm awaited
the return of Doria to his country. Too many among the multitude
which thronged the quays to witness the landing of the troops were
doomed to retrace their steps to a bereaved home, and to hearths made
desolate by war; and in the extremity of their affliction, the
Genoese were almost tempted to forget their glory, and to check their
unbecoming exultation at the abasement of Venetian insolence and
purse pride.
"But there was one who was expected to be in the crowd of Venetian
prisoners, and whom the Genoese displayed the greatest eagerness to
see in chains. _He was not there_. Unable to support the galling
thought that the son of a Doge of Venice was about to grace a Genoese
triumph, to be paraded in fetters before a Genoese mob, and then to
rot in a Genoese dungeon, the brave and unfortunate Dandolo took an
opportunity of dashing his head against the gunwale of the vessel
which was conveying him to his new destination, and thus miserably
terminated his existence."
Marco Polo was wounded and in an alarming condition when taken to
prison; but so much admired was he, and so capable of fascinating
enemies as well as friends, that {100} he was cared for in such a way
as to insure his recovery, and was even visited by Genoese gentlemen.
All who came near him listened to his stories of travels and
adventures with rapt attention and delight; and especially a
fellow-prisoner, a Pisan, Rusticiano, who had been a writer in his
day, and was seized with a desire to write out all the wonderful
tales which Marco repeated again and again. Through the kindly
offices of a Genoese noble the necessary materials were furnished,
and three months were devoted to writing, in curious antique French
seasoned with Italian idioms, the tales of the modern Herodotus. We
can imagine the supreme felicity with which Rusticiano began: "Oh,
emperors and kings, oh, dukes, princes, marquises, barons, and
cavaliers, and all who delight in knowing the different races of the
world and the variety of countries, take this book and read it!" The
first perfect copy was presented to the Republic of Genoa. The
length of Polo's imprisonment is not positively known; but he
probably returned to Venice in 1299, just when the "Serrata" and the
insurrections convulsed the city. But his public life was finished;
and his marriage, the making of his will in 1323, and such personal
matters are the only records of his remaining life.
The Venetians at once set about the building and organization of a
new fleet of one hundred galleys, and rose from their defeat with an
energy and spirit that astonished the world. They bought artillery
in Spain, and built vessels with such rapidity that the Genoese were
undoubtedly influenced to make their peace with Venice by the
conviction that she would be ready again to attack much sooner than
they to repel. At all events, within a few months, these rivals
concluded a perpetual peace with all possible pledges of friendship
and mutual respect.
The Venetians now gradually turned their attention to what the Doge
and his creatures had accomplished while {101} all eyes had been
directed elsewhere; and great excitement and discontent were soon
manifested. The populace had seemed childish and almost worse than
that in the simple and unreasoning way in which they had cherished
the fallacy that they retained any political power worthy of the
name; but of late, in certain directions, notably by trying to elect
their own Doge, they had evinced an awakening appreciation of the
facts, and a determination to re-establish themselves.
Naturally, when the closing of the Grand Council was understood and
the whole drift of the government apprehended, a demonstration was
made, led by Marino Bocconio, who had already made himself prominent
by his emphatic opposition to the election of Gradenigo. Early in
1300 Bocconio, with some of his followers, demanded admittance to the
Great Council, in order to protest against recent measures of the
government. The Doge was present at the Council when this demand was
made, and after some hesitation the visitors were admitted. What
occurred has never been known; but the next day Bocconio and ten
others were tried for sedition, condemned to death, and immediately
hanged between the columns in the Piazzetta. It will be easily
understood that this immediate and extreme punishment of malcontents
brought peace to Venice, in seeming at least.
It is interesting to note one peculiar element in the policy of
Gradenigo. By the changes in the Great Council the power of the Doge
had been greatly lessened, and "The Forty," or the "Quarantia," was
now the supreme power in the Republic. Gradenigo had thus
strengthened the aristocrats to the prejudice of his own authority.
Various reasons have been given for his course in this matter, the
most reasonable one being that he thus redeemed his pledge to advance
the policy of the aristocrats to the extent of his power.
{102}
During the preceding half-century the power of the Doge had been
merely nominal; he was now simply the instrument of the officials
about him. At the same time his pomp and circumstance had been
augmented as much as his real power had declined, and the public
occasions on which he appeared gradually increased in magnificence.
Martino da Canale thus describes the Easter procession which could
not have occurred later than 1268, as the Doge Renier Zeno died that
year:--
"On Easter Day, then, the Doge descends from his palace; before him
go eight men bearing eight silken banners blazoned with the image of
St. Mark, and on each staff are the eagles of the Empire. After the
standards come two lads who carry, one the faldstool, the other the
cushion of the Doge; then six trumpeters, who blow through silver
trumpets, followed by two with cymbals, also of silver. Comes next a
clerk, who holds a great cross all beautiful with gold, silver, and
precious stones; a second clerk carries the Gospels, and a third a
silver censer; and all three are dressed in damask of gold. Then
follow the twenty-two canons of St. Mark in their robes, chanting.
Behind the canons walks Monsignor the Doge, under the umbrella which
Monsignor the Apostle (the Pope) gave him,--the umbrella is of cloth
of gold, and a lad bears it in his hands. By the Doge's side is the
Primiciero of St. Mark's, who wears a bishop's mitre; on his other
side, the priest who shall chant the Mass. Monsignor the Doge wears
a crown of gold and precious stones, and is draped in cloth of gold.
Hard by the Doge walks a gentleman who bears a sword of exquisite
workmanship; then follow the gentlemen of Venice. In such order
Monsignor the Doge comes into the Piazza of St. Mark, which is a
stone-throw long; he walks as far as the church of San Gimignano, and
returns thence in the same order. The Doge bears a white wax candle
in his hands. They halt in the middle of the Piazza, and three of
the ducal chaplains advance before the Doge, and chant to him the
beautiful versicles and responses. Then all enter the Church of St.
Mark; three chaplains move forward to the altar-rails, {103} and say
in a loud voice, 'Let Christ be victorious, let Christ rule, let
Christ reign; to our lord Renier Zeno, by the grace of God
illustrious Doge of Venice, Dalmatia, and Croatia, conqueror of a
fourth part and of half a fourth part of all the Roman Empire,
salvation, honor, life, and victory; let Christ be victorious, let
Christ rule, let Christ reign.' Then the three chaplains say, 'Holy
Mary,' and all respond, 'Help thou Him.' The Primiciero removes his
mitre, and begins the Mass. Then the Doge shows himself to the
people from the loggia, and afterwards enters his palace, where he
finds the table spread; he dines there, and with him all the
chaplains of St. Mark."
The coronation of the Doge had also come to be a magnificent fête.
The day was a general holiday, the streets were festooned with
garlands, richly emblazoned banners floated from the windows,
draperies were suspended from the balconies, and all the beauty of
Venice gathered in casements and verandas to see the processions as
they passed.
We have a description of the Coronation of Lorenzo Tiepolo the
successor of Renier Zeno, in 1268, which is a type of these
ceremonies. The newly elected Doge was escorted to San Marco by a
solemn deputation, and at the door was met by the Vice-Doge and the
clergy of the Ducal Chapel. At the high altar he took his oath of
office, and received the standard of the Republic. He was then led
to the throne, and invested with the mantle and other insignia of
office, the youngest senators encircling his brow with the ducal
beretta. All this was witnessed by a vast concourse of people, who
were enthusiastic in their reception of the new Duke.
The chaplains of San Marco then conducted the Dogaressa to the Ducal
Palace, where, amid great pomp and rejoicing, she was seated on the
throne beside her husband.
The coronation was followed by splendid festivities. A water fête
was held; and a squadron of galleys, gayly {104} and fancifully
dressed with pennants, passed close along the canal in front of the
palace, while choristers on board chanted verses in praise of the
Doge and Dogaressa which were written for the occasion.
The procession of trades was an imposing feature of this festival.
It was led by the smiths, who, wearing crowns and chaplets of
flowers, carried banners and marched to the sound of musical
instruments; the furriers followed, arrayed in ermine and minnever;
and then came the skinners in taffeta robes, displaying their
choicest manufactures; these were succeeded by the tanners,
iron-masters, barbers, hosiers, drapers, cotton-spinners, gold-cloth
workers dressed in their precious products, the weavers and tailors
attired in sumptuous white costumes with rich, fur-trimmed mantles.
The dress of the mercers, glass-blowers, fishmongers, butchers, and
victuallers was equally costly, some being red and others yellow.
Each corporation wore a badge or token of their calling, and the
drapers carried olive branches in their hands.
The four deputies of the barbers were disguised as knights errant,
two being mounted on richly caparisoned horses, while the other two
walked beside them; they were accompanied by four damsels,
fantastically dressed, whom they claimed to have rescued from deadly
peril. When they were near the platform of the Doge, they halted and
made a speech claiming to have come from some far country seeking
their fortunes, and offering to defend the maidens against any others
who might claim them. The Doge made a reply of welcome, and assured
them of their safety under his protection; they then shouted, "Long
live our Prince, the noble Doge of Venice!" and moved on.
Then ten master-tailors changed their dresses, and donned white suits
sprinkled with vermilion stars, and {105} traversed the city singing
the popular songs of the day; each one carried a goblet of malmsey
and occasionally sipped it. This was extremely Venetian; and we can
but wonder if the tunes these tailors sung are not the same that have
descended through many generations to the gondoliers of our own day.
There were also games in which buffoons played the principal parts,
and men carrying cages of birds many of which were liberated when
they came near the court; this was greeted with hearty approbation,
and the whole scene was as merry as possible. We are sorry to add
that then, as now on like occasions, there were many light-fingered
ones among the crowd who filled their pockets at the expense of
honest folk.
All these entertainments closed with an industrial exhibition in the
palace in compliment to the Dogaressa, who, as she passed through the
apartments, was presented with gifts which she graciously received;
and thus auspiciously was the reign of the new Doge inaugurated.
This flattered his vanity; and when he was borne about the Piazza,
scattering gold as he went, he may have been elated and imagined
himself of great consequence. Every four years the citizens swore
allegiance to him, his person was declared sacred, and he never left
the palace without an attendant train of nobles and citizens. On the
other hand, his oath now obliged him to execute the orders of the
various councils implicitly. He was not permitted to exhibit his
portrait, bust, or coat-of-arms outside the Ducal Palace; he could
not announce his election to any court save that of Rome; no one
could kiss his hand, or kneel to him, or make him gifts,--in short,
no homage must be personal to the Doge; it must be rendered to the
aristocracy who had made him Doge, and who were the State. No member
of the Doge's family could hold government appointments in any part
of the Venetian territory; {106} and his sons, who had formerly been
associated with him in office, could now be elected to the Great
Council and Senate only, and in the latter had no vote.
To make the power behind the throne more absolute, it was finally
decreed that no one elected to the ducal office could refuse to
serve, neither could he resign nor leave Venice. Thus the Ducal
Palace became a prison, and the Doge the only man in Venice who
absolutely could have no will of his own.
The quiet that followed the execution of Bocconio was a quiet full of
storms. The discontents were not yet ready, and had no leader to
inaugurate a revolution. Meantime the foreign policy of Gradenigo
was making him the best-hated man imaginable. He had involved the
Republic in a most disastrous war with Ferrara, in consequence of
which the Pope had pronounced the sentence of excommunication against
the whole Republic of Venice. It is difficult in our day to
appreciate the full meaning of this.
[Illustration: _Bridge of the Rialto._]
Not only the inhabitants of the Republic, but all who aided them in
any way, were placed outside the pale of the Church; their property,
wherever found, was declared sequestrated; their treaties were null;
it was made unlawful to trade or eat or converse with them; every one
was at liberty to take them and sell them into slavery; all
sacraments were refused them; even the rites of burial were denied,
and the clergy left Venice. A new Crusade was published, and papal
indulgence given to all attacks upon Venetians or their property. In
several parts of Italy Venetians were put to death; and at Genoa many
of the prisoners of Curzola were sold as slaves.
"In England, in France, in Italy, in the East, the merchants were
robbed. From Southampton to Pera the Venetian counting-houses,
banks, and factories were forced, sacked, and destroyed. The
commerce of Venice trembled on the verge of extinction; {107} and all
these evils were laid at the door of the Doge and the new
aristocracy. But the party in power never wavered; their
determination was the result and the proof of their youth, their
confidence, their real capacity for governing. Though they were
surrounded by a people suffering intensely from physical and
spiritual want, as well as by a nobility who openly declared their
hatred of the new policy and of its authors, yet they never deviated
for a single moment from the predetermined line. Everything was done
to win the regard and support of the people. The Doge instituted a
yearly banquet to the poor, and the picturesque ceremony of washing
and kissing twelve fishermen from the lagoons."
At the same time everything possible was done to humble and insult
the opposing party. The noble Marco Quirini was refused a seat in
the Privy Council, and his place given to a Dalmatian, who, according
to the statute, was not eligible to this Council. It was attempted
to strictly enforce the law against carrying arms in the street,
which occasioned grave troubles. A watchman, called a "Signior of
the Night," met Pietro Quirini in the Piazza one evening, and
insisted on examining him; Quirini knocked the man down, and was
heavily fined.
Meetings of the Opposition were held at the house of Marco Quirini,
near the Rialto, and an organization was made. They determined to
make Bajamonte Tiepolo their leader; he was a son-in-law of Quirini,
and was greatly beloved by the people, who called him il gran
Cavaliero. He had inherited all the popularity of his father, the
Tiepolo who had been elected Doge by acclamation. Quirini had been
the head of the Opposition. He was of exalted rank and personal
character; and his relation to Bajamonte Tiepolo had increased his
consideration by the union of two great families, so that he was now
the most influential man in the Great Council. He had been sent as
Podestà to Ferrara, doubtless in the hope that he would {108} never
return; but he escaped pestilence and all other dangers, and was at
home in time to engage in the insurrection with all his heart.
Bajamonte had been for several years at his Villa Marocco in the
March of Treviso; but when, in 1310, his brother nobles invited his
return, he readily assented, and his arrival in Venice was the signal
for greater excitement and determination. He urged immediate action;
and so many of his party agreed with him that the more cautious
counsel of their elders was set aside, and on June 14, ten years
after the execution of Bocconio, the fires of revolution were again
kindled in Venice.
It was arranged that the conspirators should gather at night in the
house of Quirini, and with the dawn rush to the Piazza, gain
possession of the centre of the city, and kill Gradenigo. The night
was terrific; thunder and lightning, and torrents of rain raised a
tempest in which the cries "Death to the Doge!" and "Freedom to the
People!" could not be heard; and under the cover of this terrible
storm the insurrectionists went forth. One division, under
Bajamonte, proceeded by the Calle of the Merceria; a second, under
Quirini, took the nearer way by the bridge of Malpasso (now di Dai)
and the Fondamenta; and all were to meet in the Piazza.
Up to this time the meetings of the revolutionists had escaped
observation; but now a traitor, Marco Donato, gave such information
to Gradenigo as led him to send three officers to ascertain the
truth. At the Rialto they were met by drawn swords, and fled for
their lives. The Doge at once apprehended the situation, and sent to
the governors of the neighboring islands for a speedy supply of
troops. He arranged his soldiers with great care, by the aid of the
flashes of lightning; posted guards at every entrance to the Piazza;
the main body being massed in the centre, awaiting the rebels in
silence. No more dramatic scene is described in history.
{109}
The conspirators had believed that their marching would be the signal
for a rising of the people; but they were disappointed, and each
advancing step proved that they had no sympathy from the masses.
Quirini reached the Piazza first; and as he entered the square, the
soldiers charged on him with the cry of "Traitors! kill them, kill
them!" Quirini and his two sons were cut down at once, it is said by
the hand of Giustiniani himself, and seeing their leader killed, his
followers fled wildly. When Bajamonte reached the Piazza, he was
received in like manner; his standard, inscribed LIBERTÀ, was struck
to the ground, the bearer being killed by a heavy flower-pot thrown
from a window above him by a woman. This was the signal for a panic;
and Bajamonte, with his men, turned to fly. Here and there they made
a stand, and a fight ensued; they burned the customs offices, and at
length reached the Rialto. This wooden bridge was cut down behind
them; and they shut themselves within the house of Quirini, which was
a fortress and defensible.
Meantime the followers of Quirini who escaped from the Piazza were
attacked by soldiers in the Campo San Luca, and cut to pieces. The
only hope remaining to the insurgents was that Badoer might arrive
from Padua with the aid he had been sent to ask; but he was cut off
by the Chioggians, and Bajamonte had no reliance save himself, his
few followers, and the strength of his position.
The Doge soon sent envoys to him, offering amnesty and even pardon,
should the rebels submit; but Bajamonte steadily refused. Gradenigo
knew that Tiepolo could not be taken in his present quarters without
a great loss of men and property; he also reflected that if he
captured the leader he must either permit a traitor to go free, or
execute the most popular man in all Venice. For these reasons he
determined to use all possible means to bring {110} about a
satisfactory negotiation; but everything proved ineffectual until an
old man, and one much respected, Filippo Belegno, after many
arguments and long persuasion, prevailed on Bajamonte to relent and
accept the terms of the Doge, which he had at first believed to be
but a snare for him and his followers.
By these terms Bajamonte and all the insurgents who had a right to a
seat in the Council were banished to Dalmatia for four years; those
of lower rank were pardoned on swearing allegiance to the Doge and
the Constitution, and returning all the goods that had been taken
from private dwellings or government stores. The lives of any of the
exiles detected in breaking their parole would be forfeited, and to
harbor them or correspond with them was made treasonable. Their
wives and families were expelled from the Dogado, and the houses of
Bajamonte and of the Quirini were demolished; on the site of the
first a Column of Infamy was raised, and the armorial bearings of
both houses were changed.
One cannot avoid a feeling of sympathy for Badoer and others who,
being taken fighting, were beheaded, nor a sentiment of scorn for the
traitor Donato, whose treachery was rewarded by a seat in the Council
without election, while his family were made noble forever. Even
Giustina Rosso was not forgotten, and for dashing down that
flower-pot which came so near being fatal to Bajamonte, she was
permitted to hold her residence in the Merceria for fifteen ducats
annually, and to unfurl a standard from the so-called "mortar
casement" on every festival day, and in 1341 her bust was placed near
the Sotto Portico del Capello.
The 15th of June, being the day of San Vito, was made a festival, and
one of the great Venetian anniversaries, when the Doge went in grand
and solemn state to the very small and ancient church of that saint
to give thanks {111} for the deliverance from this most important of
the Venetian insurrections.
Bajamonte Tiepolo lived a stormy and unhappy life. In 1311 he was a
conspirator at Padua, and somewhat later was hunted out of Treviso;
in 1322 the Ten offered a reward for his capture; in 1328 the Doge
was ordered to secure him if possible: but death fortunately released
him from all his tortures. He had ever longed for the lagoons, the
Piazza, his old _contrada_, and all the ways of his beloved Venice;
but he refused all the proposals made to him for his return,--he
could not trust the dreaded Ten.
However, so long as Gradenigo lived, he was haunted by fear of
Tiepolo, and of what he might do; indeed, one historian goes so far
as to say that he died of this revolt and its consequences. For a
time the Venetians were constantly suspecting an ambush in the
streets, and went to their beds in dread of the night and of the
morrow. It was believed that only the most stringent measures could
prevent a repetition of this insurrection, and that even worse things
might happen. This tendency of the public mind found expression in a
petition for a Committee of Inquiry, which proved to be the origin of
the famous Council of Ten.
This Council was organized for a few months only, and for the special
purpose of making a searching inquiry into all the ramifications of
the late conspiracy. But on the following Michaelmas Day the Doge
made one of his rare visits to the Great Council, for the purpose of
saying that as the day had come on which the authority of the Ten
expired, he recommended its extension for two months, as the need of
it still existed in order to root out sedition and treason. The
amendment was passed and the time extended to November 30, and again
to January 30, 1311. At that time it was thought best to establish
it for five years; and at last, in 1335, it was made permanent, {112}
and became the tyrant and terror of Venice. In his "Venetian
Studies" Brown says:--
"More terrible than any personal despot, because impalpable,
impervious to the dagger of the assassin, it was no concrete
despotism, but the very essence of tyranny. To seek its overthrow
was vain. Those who strove to wrestle with it clasped empty air;
they struck at it, but the blow was wasted on space. Evasive and
pervasive, this dark, inscrutable body ruled Venice with a rod of
iron. For good or for bad, the Council of Ten was the very child of
the new aristocracy, which had won its battle against both the people
and the old nobility. The victorious party breathed, and their
breath became the Ten; and it is the Ten which determined the
internal aspect of Venice for the remainder of her existence."
Thus had Gradenigo silently and determinedly worked a greater
revolution than Bajamonte could have made, had he succeeded in his
plans; and he had made himself hated in his success, while his rival
was beloved to the end. The name of Pietro Gradenigo is not so
frequently mentioned as those of other Doges and generals of the
Republic. The man who firmly established the aristocrats in power
and originated the Council of Ten is forgotten in the importance and
vast results of his work; but so far as the sovereignty of Venice was
concerned, no man was more remarkable than Gradenigo.
When he died, in August, 1311, he was hastily buried at Murano.
Whether this was because he was so hated that a riot was feared, or
on account of his excommunication, we know not. How truly of him
could it be said, he brought nothing into this world; and it is
certain he carried nothing out,--not even sufficient respect from
those he had benefited to lead them to follow him to his grave. This
was all the more noticeable from its contrast with the usual
obsequies of those who held his office. Hazlitt gives the following
account of a Doge's funeral:
{113}
"In the first instance the ducal remains were transported from the
Palace on the shoulders of twenty of the oldest Senators to the
saloon of the Signori di Notte; one of the household marched in
front, carrying a sheathed sword with the point upward; and a large
number of patricians followed the corpse. The Doge was splendidly
attired in the costume which he wore on state occasions; and the
gilded spurs, indicating his equestrian rank, were fastened at his
heels. After a brief interval the procession was again set in
motion; and, the members of the College having taken leave at this
point, the rest proceeded to St. Mark's, where the Dogaressa and her
ladies and a throng of mourning nobles had assembled. Here the
burial service was performed with the accustomed solemnity; and after
its celebration the bearers resumed their burden, and the body was
conveyed, with every mark of pomp, to the family vault."
With Bajamonte Tiepolo died the old nobility. He and it and the
people were sacrificed to the new aristocrats, who had overridden the
old Constitution. From the Quirini-Tiepolo conspiracy the peculiar
government which was purely Venetian, and unparalleled elsewhere, may
be dated; and strangely enough, the leaders of the revolt contributed
largely to the success of Gradenigo, since, but for the insurrection,
it is doubtful if he could have riveted his chains and clasped them
with the Council of Ten.
Time has obliterated the traces of the rebellion. The Column of
Infamy was broken soon after its erection by one of Bajamonte's
admirers, and after many removals from one garden to another it was
carried to Como. A square of white marble in the pavement of the
Campo of Sant' Agostino, inscribed "Col: Bai: The: MCCCX.," is the
sole reminder of the insurrection; and this is where few strangers
go, in the heart of Venice, between the Frari and the Campo San Polo.
The family of the Tiepolo were not crushed by the failure and exile
of Bajamonte. Their palaces, always {114} bearing two obelisks on
the roofs, are still seen on the Grand Canal, and prove that in later
days this house was not disgraced by the remembrance of the Gran
Cavaliero.
THE COUNCIL OF TEN.
Until within the last half-century it would have been a matter of
surprise to hear a charitable word spoken for this famous council,
much more to hear it defended as the best method for the government
of Venice at the time when it was the controlling spirit of the
Republic. But in more recent years the historians of various
nationalities, taking into account the more reliable and wider
knowledge that has come from the study of the Venetian archives, are
not inclined to the severe condemnation of the Ten which it formerly
received, and have indeed been led to think it well suited to its
era, and of great value in upholding the power and guarding the
prosperity of the Republic.
Formerly the opinion which Cooper expresses in the "Bravo" found an
almost universal echo. After giving an account of the establishment
of the Council, he says:
"A political inquisition, which came in time to be one of the most
fearful engines of police ever known, was the consequence. An
authority as irresponsible as it was absolute was periodically
confided to another and still smaller body, which met and exercised
its despotic and secret functions under the name of the Council of
Three. The choice of these temporary rulers was decided by lot, and
in a manner that prevented the result from being known to any but to
their own number, and to a few of the most confidential of the more
permanent officers of the government. Thus there existed at all
times in the heart of Venice a mysterious and despotic power that was
wielded by men who moved in society unknown, and apparently
surrounded by all the ordinary charities of life; but which, in
truth, was influenced {115} by a set of political maxims that were
perhaps as ruthless, as tyrannic, and as selfish as ever was invented
by the evil ingenuity of man. It was, in short, a power that could
only be intrusted, without abuse, to infallible virtue and infinite
intelligence, using the terms in a sense limited by human means; and
and yet it was here confided to men whose title was founded on the
double accident of birth and the colors of balls, and by whom it was
wielded without even the check of publicity.
"The Council of Three met in secret, ordinarily issued its decrees
without communicating with any other body, and had them enforced with
a fearfulness of mystery and a suddenness of execution that resembled
the blows of fate. The Doge himself was not superior to its
authority, nor protected from its decisions, while it has been known
that one of the privileged three has been denounced by his
companions.... Thus Venice prided herself on the justice of St.
Mark; and few States maintained a greater show, or put forth a more
lofty claim to the possession of the sacred quality, than that whose
real maxims of government were veiled in a mystery that even the
loose morality of the age exacted."
Since this Council is one of the most interesting and characteristic
peculiarities of the Venetian government, it is worth while to quote
a few authoritative and judicial opinions regarding it, and all the
more that we have already cited those most severely against it.
Hazlitt,--the able English historian of the Venetian Republic, and a
member of the Inner Temple,--in speaking of the time (1335), when the
Council of Ten was made permanent, says:--
"The Republic had now enjoyed halcyon days of peace since the return
of the Zaratines to their allegiance in 1313. Twenty years of
foreign war and domestic convulsion (1293-1313) were thus followed by
twenty years of external and internal repose (1313-1333). Dalmatia
was tranquillized; Genoa was humiliated. The Lower Empire, though
not without its alarming symptoms, was quiescent. The pressure of
extraordinary taxes {116} was no longer sensible. Prices were low.
Provisions were abundant. Commerce had received an enormous impulse
and expansion. The condition of trade was highly flourishing. The
upper classes were elated by the development of fresh sources of
wealth. The lower orders were exhilarated by the removal of their
burdens. It was under these auspicious circumstances that the time
was approaching for the dissolution of the Council of Ten.
"The original jurisdiction of this unique tribunal had been of a
purely exclusive and strictly transient character. To devise
measures for the safety of the State, to obtain by any expedients
every new clew to the conspiracy of 1310, to unravel these clews to
their source with untiring diligence, to bring to justice all who
might have eluded detection, were the objects to which the labors of
Decemvirs were directed, and the points to which their cognizance was
confined. But the Council, even if its attributes had not been
emphatically inquisitorial, showed no disposition to be perfunctory.
The line of demarcation, if any such line had existed, was soon
obliterated or ignored. Every branch of the Executive was submitted
in its turn, under various pretexts, to the novel influence. Nor
could it be denied that that influence was exercised, on the whole,
to a highly beneficial end. It had been accounted a great revolution
when, so recently as 1298, the Great Council succeeded in arrogating
to itself the prerogatives which formerly belonged to the people.
But the narrow jealousy and distrust, which were gradually growing up
in the ranks of the nobility, had long made it palpably evident to
the more discerning, that a still higher and still more concentric
power must eventually arise to wrest these prerogatives from the
hands of the Great Council itself. That power was already found to
exist in the Decemvirs. Primarily elected, and constantly renewed by
the legislative body on the clearest ground of expediency, the Ten
had incessantly striven to popularize themselves, and to strengthen
their position by propitiating the lower classes on the one hand, and
by turning to account, on the other hand, with unequalled dexterity
the disunion among the patricians, to rule that order with a hand of
iron. By some the Dictatorship was viewed as an indispensable
ingredient in the Constitution; by some it was tolerated as an odious
necessity; {117} but all accepted the silent innovation in a spirit
of acquiescence. The Decemvirs knew their strength, and they quickly
made that strength felt. It was on the 30th of January, 1336, that
their commission was about to expire; on the 20th of July, 1335,
_they caused themselves to be declared a permanent Assembly_....
"In the Middle Ages, when an almost total ignorance reigned of civil
principles, it was not unnatural that a system pretending to rise
above the common level of crude simplicity should be viewed as
slightly cabalistic and inscrutable. The Venetian Executive, indeed,
displayed the earliest attempt to organize a bureaucratic machinery
and a plan for the distribution of public functions; and Venice also
led the way in founding the practice of diplomatic etiquette and
official routine. _The Council of Ten was, perhaps, a constitutional
evil; but it was certainly a constitutional necessity_. The tribunal
was more or less fatal to the political liberty of the Venetians; but
it left untouched their civil privileges, and it was highly conducive
to the preservation of the national independence. While it was
inaccessible to the whispers of treason, it was not a stranger to the
softer influences of humanity. Instances were known in which a
female suppliant was permitted to penetrate into the Hall of the
Decemvirs, and obtained that redress which had been denied to her
elsewhere. An instance might be cited in which, when a foreign
tyrant had tempted and overcome the virtue even of members of the
College, the Ten, alone incorruptible and without a price, provided
for the safety of the imperilled State! ... It was not very long
after their original institution in 1310 that the Decemvirs resorted,
in cases where peculiarly delicate investigation was requisite, to
the practice of delegating their powers provisionally and specially
to one, two, or three of their number, according to circumstances;
and these extraordinary functionaries were known as the 'Inquisitori
dei Dieci,' or the Inquisitors of the Ten.... The Capi submitted
resolutions to their colleagues, and signed decrees in their name;
and the letters purporting to be written by the Doge himself or his
secretary were generally composed under their dictation, being
forwarded to his Serenity only for subscription. The Inquisitors of
the Ten, who were thus nearly coeval with the Ten themselves, may
{118} be recognized as the forerunners of the famous 'Inquisitors of
State.' But no tribunal existed at Venice under the latter title
prior to 1596, nor even then was it clothed with the revolting
attributes which have been ascribed to it by ignorance or malignity."
M. Armand Baschet has written a book founded on the Archives of
Venice, called "Histoire de la Chancellerie Secrète," which treats of
the Senate, the Cabinet, the Council of Ten, and the Inquisitors of
State, in their relations to France. It is an exhaustive and learned
work; and having quoted an English authority, it is wise also to give
a few sentences from this erudite French writer:--
"No institution has been more falsely represented and more misjudged
than the Council of Ten. The profound secrecy of its deliberations,
to secure which the extremest precautions were always permitted,
offered so favorable a subject for invention and exaggeration that
pamphleteers and romancers could but seize upon it without reserve.
Doubtless this extraordinary tribunal had its dramas, since politics
and reasons of State imposed on it the duty of scrutinizing the
depths of the heart. Assuredly, also, it had its faults,--for
although called supreme, it was not divine, and was therefore liable
to err; but to believe that it was established for the calm
commission of evil, rather than to prevent or correct it, is one of
those extremely gross errors for which the active research into the
truth of history--which in our day is zealously carried so
far--endeavors to make reparation.
"Was its creation the arbitrary outcome of the heated imagination of
a tyrant of the school of Nero? Was it an offensive or defensive
weapon invented by this tyrant in order to torment his people? Good
sense proves this to have been impossible. The Council of Ten was
created by the votes, the discussions, and conclusions of a numerous
and intelligent Assembly; strong in its united strength; full of
political instincts, which did not ignore the truth that the power
which by a vote it was about {119} to establish was created to
prevent the dangers which men of great ambitions on the exterior, or
revolutionists in the interior, might bring to the Republic.
"Was its establishment the work of a day? Would this great Council,
created for two months only, have been continued by a new vote for
one year, five years, ten years, and at last permanently, if the
exercise of its power had not been recognized as a benefit rather
than an evil? Was not this State, which in establishing this Council
created a judge for itself, the best governed and most orderly which
then existed in the world? What other nation then had a parliament
like that of Venice? Could the sovereign exercise oppression even in
his decrees? What was the Doge in the presence of the Grand Council,
the lesser Council, and the Senate, other than a person with less
power than the Sovereign of Great Britain to-day, who must be in
accord with the will of the Parliament and the House of Lords?
Moreover, it is manifest to one who seeks to know the Council of Ten
from authentic sources, rather than from amusing histories without
reliable knowledge, that this power was for the protection of the
people against the patricians rather than against the people in favor
of the patricians.
"Go to its archives, open its records, examine its parchments,
penetrate into its correspondence, initiate yourself in the mysteries
of its justice, understand its decrees, inform yourself as to its
judgments, and you will see whether it made its power one long abuse,
and whether the spirit of tyranny rather than that of justice was its
inspiration and motive power. That it held a terrible power in its
hands is incontestable; but that it used this power upon suspicion,
and in the absence of other proof, is absolutely false. It is
puerile to judge the penalties of those days by present standards.
Should we not consider the manners and customs of its time? Under
the best of our kings, under the most just, the most amiable and
honest, were not the abettors of certain crimes furiously quartered?
It is absurd to compare past history with the present, except it be
to praise and admire the progress that has been made.
"Moreover, the Council of Ten had to sustain, in the course of three
centuries, the most searching tests to which a political {120}
institution could be subjected. Three times its institution, its
existence, and its system were placed under the ban of the Parliament
which had created it. Three times was it called in question by a
party in the Grand Council, and submitted to examination and
discussion. The tribune was free; the speeches made for and against
its abolition still exist. In 1582, 1628, and 1762 the eloquence of
the orators threatened its destruction. Judges were elected by vote
to thoroughly inform themselves regarding it. They did not act under
personal instruction to proceed against the individuals invested with
full powers and accused of having used them against the welfare of
the State. Quite otherwise were they instructed, since, according to
the results of their investigation, a considerable Assembly would
decide for or against the preservation of this institution in the
Republic. Its most secret papers were submitted to them; and three
times the Council of Ten triumphed over the party opposed to it,
after having been subjected to the most exciting and searching
discussions which could possibly engage a great and vigorous
political assembly."
{121}