GLORY, HUMILIATION, FREEDOM.
All historians agree that the fifteenth century was the period of the
greatest luxury and magnificence of Venice. In 1457 it seemed that
the Republic would march on to greater power over a larger territory
than had yet been held by any one of the North Italian States.
Brescia, Bergamo, and Ravenna were securely hers. She was attempting
to cross the Adda to the west, and to encroach upon the Romagna on
the south. Could there have been peace anywhere,--at home or
abroad,--could she have had a respite in which to think and plan her
policy, she might have succeeded in becoming a powerful territorial
State; but no such breathing-spell was possible. All Italy was in a
ferment. Each power sought to lessen the strength of its neighbor.
Political combinations were made, apparently only to be broken.
Everything was in dire confusion, and Venice would have had more than
she could do to carry herself advantageously in her own nation, when
the Turks, by their conquest of Constantinople, threatened her with
the death of her commerce, which was essentially her death as a
Republic, since on that she depended for her revenue to enable her to
maintain herself against all enemies at home and abroad.
For sixteen years Venice was continually at war in the East. While,
in fact, all Europe was vitally interested in the outcome of this
struggle, yet all Europe failed to offer any aid to Venice. It was
assumed that since the {276} Republic had so largely profited by her
relations in the Levant, she alone must bear the burden of the
struggle. In the beginning she had promises of support, but all
these failed her at the outset. She spent men and money, and fought
with her accustomed bravery until she had no more to give. Then, in
1479, she made the best terms for peace that were possible, only to
be cursed for perfidy to Christianity, and to be accused of cowardly
submission to the Turks, in order to use all her strength to increase
her territory on the mainland of Italy.
Unfortunately this accusation seemed to be well founded, when, in
1481, the Republic declared war against Ferrara, whose territory
separated Venice from her own dependency of Ravenna. The Venetians
were most patriotic in the support of this war. They wished to
reinstate themselves in their own good opinion after all their
humiliation in the East, and with the support of the Pope all went to
their advantage in the beginning. But soon Sixtus IV. not only
abandoned them, but placed them under an interdict because they did
not lay down their arms at his request; and in the end the peace of
Bagnolo was made in 1484, the Republic having gained very little in
return for the vast expense of 1,200,000 ducats, great losses of men
and ships, and a mortification of her pride which vastly increased
the bitterness of the result. All these misfortunes occurred at the
time when travellers and chroniclers who wrote of Venice failed to
find words rich enough in their meaning to convey the just impression
of the magnificence of the "Queen of the Adriatic,"--the time of
which Brown says:--
"And yet, while the Republic was really hurling headlong to its ruin,
the outward pomp, the glory, the splendor of Venice were just
beginning to attract the eyes of Europe, blinding many Venetians and
all foreigners to the real aspect of the situation. Venice was
acquiring her reputation as the city of {277} magnificent private
life, the city of 'masks and balls begun at midnight, burning ever to
midday;' the city, too, of _sfrenata lasciva_, the 'Gehenna of the
Waters.' This is the period when her great palaces arose, in all
their pomp of balcony and pillared windows and frescoed façades,
along the Grand Canal; when Vivarini, Carpaccio, and Bellini were
preluding to Titian, Giorgione, Tintoret; when Bessarion presented
his priceless codices to the Marician Library; when the colony of
Greek Scribes was endeavoring to hold its own against the new
invention of printing, against John of Speyer's 'Epistolæ Familiares'
and Jenson's 'Ad Atticum;' when Aldus, by his brilliant, earnest,
passionate scholarship, and his practical acumen in the conduct of
his press, began to render the Greek classics the common property of
mankind.
"It would seem that just as the rapid extension of Venice on the
mainland under Francesco Foscari was the blossom of all her long
centuries of physical and constitutional growth, so the sudden
artistic expansion of the later fifteenth century was the flowering
of Venice in the intellectual and emotional region. The bloom
presaged decay. Death was already at the roots before the flower had
opened to its fullest splendor."
Before the end of this century another event--unfortunate for Venice,
but a blessing to all the world besides--was added to the misfortunes
which had followed her in the Levant and on the mainland. In 1486
Diaz rounded the Cape of Good Hope; and two years later, when the
news of Vasco di Gama's voyage was received, all intelligent
Venetians knew that a fatal blow had fallen on their commerce. Its
death might be a lingering one, but it was sure. Of this Brown
says:--
"A new commercial route was opened to the world. Instead of passing
up the Red Sea and across the Isthmus of Suez, or up the Persian Gulf
and through Asia Minor, breaking bulk at Ormuz or at Suez, and being
shipped again for European destinations at Alexandria or Aleppo, all
the wealth of the Indies could now be carried in unbroken cargoes
round the Cape of {278} Good Hope, to be discharged in the harbors of
Holland, of the Hanseatic towns, of England. The Mediterranean
instantly ceased to be the sole highway of communication between the
East and West; the great commercial thoroughfare was now thrown
outside the Straits of Gibraltar; and Venice, in whose hands
Mediterranean traffic had become almost a monopoly, suffered a blow
such as all her struggles with Genoa and all the victories of the
Turks had hitherto failed to inflict."
In the Diaries of Priuli we read that on the receipt of the news of
Di Gama's voyage the whole city was astounded; and the wisest
Venetians agreed that never before had any information been so
deplorable, nor could any other ever excel it in importance. Priuli
continues:
"For it is well known that Venice reached her height of reputation
and riches through her commerce alone, which brought foreigners to
the city in great numbers; and now by this new route the spice
cargoes will be taken straight to Lisbon, where the Hungarians,
Germans, Flemish, and French will flock to buy them; they will find
the goods cheaper in Lisbon than they can be in Venice, for before
the freights can reach Venice by the old route, they have to pay
exorbitant dues for transit through Syria and the lands of the Soldan
of Egypt."
Lisbon was soon the mart to which all the northern merchants
resorted; and the Florentines profited by this change to the
exclusion of the Venetians, who suffered from three causes. They did
not dare at once to break their commercial relations with the Sultan,
who was, in a way, interested to defend Venice from the Turk; and,
moreover, he had in his power the warehouses of the Venetians at
Cairo and Alexandria, filled with a wealth of Eastern products.
Again, they could not pass the Straits of Gibraltar without paying
levies on their ships to Spain; and even if they did this, the
northern men would soon forsake the dangers and toils of crossing the
{279} Alps for the less perilous and more comfortable voyage to
Lisbon.
This overwhelming commercial misfortune was soon followed by the
culmination of events which had been threatening political perils to
Venice ever since she had indulged her desire for possessions on
Terra Firma, as it was expressed. The many leagues and combinations,
made apparently but to be broken, the sending and receiving of
ambassadors, the vague replies and diplomatic avoidance of yea and
nay, all resulted in the League concluded at Cambray in 1508. Here
France, Spain, the Emperor Maximilian, the Pope, the Dukes of Ferrara
and Savoy, and the King of Hungary were all combined against the
Republic, or against what the preamble to the treaty called "the
insatiable cupidity of the Venetians and their thirst for dominion."
This is not the place to trace the steps, through a quarter of a
century and more, by which all these powers and others had gradually
crushed the prestige of Venice, in Italy, outside her own lagoons, as
essentially as the Turks had destroyed her Levantine precedence.
Meantime, in all these years of slow poison and decline, few
Venetians had recognized their danger, few had foreseen the end. Men
of courage and devoted patriotism were not wanting. There was still
great individual wealth, and it would have been given to the
ever-beloved Venice with cheerful alacrity; but the complications
were so many, and followed each other so rapidly, that the government
was unable to hold itself clearly above these circumstances, and
organize a policy which should reinstate the Republic, even in part.
When in 1499 the Grand Vizier said to the agent of the Republic, "You
can tell the Doge that he has done wedding the sea; it is our turn
now," he but told the brutal truth, as did Malipiero when, speaking
of the Italian wars, he said, "We shall have to beg for peace and
restore all we have acquired."
{280}
It would seem, too, that a sort of madness blinded the Venetians to
their true condition. They acted as if the mines of Golconda were
beneath their Piazza, and they had but to go in by their private
entrance and draw upon inexhaustible wealth. After sixteen years of
a losing war with the Turks, when the Ducal Palace was destroyed, the
proposal to build a much larger and more magnificent palace found
much favor; and at this very time Venice was impoverished.
The League of Cambray, to put it in a word, simply divided among its
members all the possessions of the Republic outside the city of
Venice and its lagoon islands. France proceeded to carry out the
treaty at once, and was so successful that by the first of June
Sanudo wrote in his chronicles that, except the towns of Asola,
Crema, and Pizzighettone not a town in Lombardy remained to Venice.
"All the rest is lost,--yielded to the French without drawing sword."
Venice prepared for a blockade. The French had nearly fulfilled all
the provisions of the League, and the Venetians might well fear the
next steps. But the remarkable activity of the French did not
altogether please the Pope, Julius II. He had by their aid recovered
the territory of the Church, and so felt no further need of their
presence in Italy; and before long he deserted the League and allied
himself with Venice, and afterward they were joined by Spain in an
alliance which the Pope called "Holy." This was in 1511; and after
various battles, which resulted in no good to the Republic, she in
turn deserted the "Holy League," and became the ally of France by the
treaty of Blois, in 1513. Again fierce battles were fought; again
the French retired, leaving the Venetians alone. Cardona, the leader
of the army of the Holy League, pushed down to the shores of the
lagoon, burning the Venetian towns in his progress, and even {281}
pointing his cannon against Venice, and firing a few shots.
But the same lagoons that had defeated all her enemies from the time
of the Huns still protected her. She was impregnable; and Cardona
was forced to retire, as the Genoese had done long years before.
During 1514 the Venetian territory was the scene of marching and
counter-marching, with little or no result; when in 1515 Louis XII.
died, and Francis I. at once declared himself Duke of Milan, and so
conducted his affairs in Italy that the Peace of Brussels, in which
Venice was included, was signed in 1516. This virtually ended the
effects of the League of Cambray, and Venice again resumed her former
territory on the mainland.
The struggles between Francis and Charles V. made little difference
to the Republic, except that Charles demanded 80,000 ducats, which
were paid; and in his settlement of Italy in 1529 he left Venice with
her frontier where Carmagnola had fixed it, on the Adda; there it
remained so long as the Republic endured. She was able to
congratulate herself that she was still an independent power,
although enfeebled beyond recovery.
And now her former strength was replaced by the only weapon left to
her, diplomacy. The Council of Ten and the Three Inquisitors became
all-powerful; while the slightest alarm raised a panic of fear and
excitement, and secrecy, vigilance, silence, and mystery were relied
on to preserve her existence, which actually depended on two
circumstances,--first, her impregnable position; and second, the
jealousy between other powers, which would not permit any one of them
to appropriate her possessions on Terra Firma.
The Venetian characteristic which proved to be "the ruling passion,
strong in death," her love of ceremonies and pleasure, was in no wise
modified through all these {282} troublous years. It would seem like
dancing on its own grave, when at the wedding of Jacopo Foscari the
ambassadors of the members of the League of Cambray were entertained
with magnificent spectacles, while Brescia and Bergamo, Verona and
Vicenza were in the hands of these very enemies. The gayety of the
life and the safety of her position made Venice a desirable asylum to
those who hated war. She was the only Italian city that had never
been at the mercy of a brutal enemy; and many came to her for safety,
as Petrarch had done. Art flourished; every comfort and luxury of
living could be had. Great license of conduct was allowed; indeed,
save committing a political fault, a man of wealth could do almost
anything he chose, as private crimes seemed to be matters of
indifference. In fact, Venice spared no pains to stand before the
world as an attractive resort, a city of pageants and pleasure, to
which all were made welcome.
From the Peace of Brussels in 1516 to the peace with the Turks in
1573 there is little to record to the glory of the Republic. In the
war of the Valtelline and in that of the Spanish succession she
simply strove to preserve her neutrality, and succeeded, but at the
expense of having her territory overrun by both armies and submitting
to humiliation in silence.
In 1537 a third war broke out with the Turks, and was concluded by a
peace in 1540, which was ruinous to Venice in the further loss of
territory in the Levant. This treaty was made with Suleiman the
Magnificent; and when at his death, in 1566, Selim the Drunkard
became Sultan, he at once determined to seize on Cyprus, and demanded
its surrender on the plea that it was a dependency of Mecca. In its
weakness the Republic appealed for help to the Pope, who promised
that all Europe should give its support. But the usual
disappointment was repeated,--the assistance was meagre, {283} and
the delay in sending it was such that although the cities of Nicosia
and Famagosta made a stout resistance, and the Venetian commandants
did all that brave men could do, hoping for relief from day to day,
yet Cyprus was conquered by the Turks without a Venetian fleet coming
within sight of the island. The details of the defence, and of the
sufferings of the Italians at the hands of the barbarous Turks, are
too heart-sickening for repetition.
At length the allied fleet of the Venetians, Spaniards, and Papal
forces, when all too late to save Cyprus, encountered the Ottoman
fleet off Lepanto, and a desperate battle for five hours resulted in
a splendid victory for the allies. The Turks lost thirty thousand
men and one hundred and seventeen galleys, while the Christians lost
eight thousand. Sebastian Venier won great renown for himself and
the Republic; and Venice had the supreme joy of once again
celebrating a victory and hearing a _Te Deum_ in San Marco. The
Venetians desired to press on at once to Constantinople, having a
reasonable hope, after such a defeat, of crushing the power of the
infidel; but the allies would not consent, and Don John of Austria
took his ships into winter quarters. By spring the Turks were ready
with a fleet of two hundred and ten sail. Venice could not contend
with them alone, and in the end made a peace which, together with
Cyprus, contented the Turk for a time.
In 1574 Henry III. arrived in Venice, on his way from Poland to
France, and afforded the Venetians an excuse for one of their dearly
loved pageants. Everything was done to make the occasion impressive
and magnificent His attendants were young nobles of high rank. He
was received under a triumphal arch designed by Palladio and painted
by Veronese and Tintoretto. He was lodged in the Foscari Palace,
with the two adjoining palaces of {284} the Giustiniani also at his
service. A large platform floated on the canal before the palace, to
accommodate the comedians by day and the musicians at night. A
regatta, a banquet and ball, and other spectacles afforded him
entertainment; and he left Venice as he might have left an enchanted
island, intoxicated with its pleasures and beauties.
It may readily be seen that after the peace with the Turks, so
different in spirit from what the Venetians had been accustomed to,
there were constant difficulties arising between the vessels of the
two powers, and it was impossible for the Republic to prevent such
acts on the part of her seamen as might give any Ottoman prince an
excuse for a declaration of war. But by the payment of indemnities
and other pacific measures peace was maintained during more than
seventy years, when the Sultan Ibrahim determined to take Candia, the
last important stronghold of the Venetians in the Levant.
The Sultan alleged that the Knights of Malta had seized a Turkish
vessel that was carrying pilgrims, and had then touched at Candia;
and although the Governor of Candia had warned the Maltese off, it
served the Sultan as the excuse that he desired for attacking the
island. Well understanding this, Venice at once did all in her power
to garrison and provision Candia, although the preparations were
quite inadequate.
In 1645 the Turks began a war which endured nearly twenty-five years,
in which time many brave deeds were done, and the true old Venetian
spirit maintained itself in spite of the greatest discouragements,
losses, and sufferings. Their determined defence of Candia
interested all the world; and more than once succor was sent from
France, and the solid ranks of the Mussulmans were impetuously
assaulted to no purpose. Other nations were fired with admiration of
the splendid resistance these {285} Christians were making, and
determined to send them aid, but all too late. "The Republic was
dying; but dying gloriously here in the Levant,--the earliest, as it
was the latest, scene of all her solid triumphs."
Lazzaro Mocenigo, the brave commander of the fleet, after many
splendid deeds, was killed by the explosion of his magazine. After
an interval the great Francesco Morosini was made admiral. He was
the last of the Venetian seamen to uphold the ancient fame of his
country upon the seas, but it was his sad fate to end this struggle
by negotiation instead of victory. The terms were honorable. Candia
was surrendered; but the guns, the people, the sacred vessels, and
the ammunition were removed to the Venetian fleet, and the roadstead
of Suda remained to Venice. Morosini also made a peace between the
Republic and the Sultan. This was in 1669, and Venice was on the
brink of financial ruin.
Sixteen years later Morosini was again in command against the Turks,
who had threatened attacks on Albania. The Admiral now conceived the
idea of reconquering the Morea, in which he succeeded. He bombarded
Athens in 1688, when one of his bombs set fire to a powder magazine
within the Parthenon, and ruined the temple. He was recalled to
Venice by the news that he had been elected Doge in recognition of
his services; but he soon returned to the Morea, where matters were
not progressing to his satisfaction. His embarkation in 1693
afforded almost the last of the great solemnities of the Republic,
which proved to be also the last honor to Morosini, for he died at
Nauplia very soon after his arrival, worn out with age ami long
service of Venice.
The results of his conquests were of small account to the Republic.
She had lost her power to maintain distant provinces; and finally, in
1718, all her long struggles in the Levant were ended by the final
resignation of her {286} claims to the Morea. But she did not forget
to emblazon the name of Francesco Morosini, the hero of her last
conflicts on that sea of which she was so long the proud mistress, on
the walls of the Sala dello Scrutinio.
We have already considered the Council of Ten, and defended it
against some of the accusations which have been too frequently made
against it. During the first two centuries of its existence it
became enormously important. The State retained the management of
the navy and army, of finance, and, in a certain sense, of diplomacy;
but all urgent or unusual business was left to the Ten, who could
call any case before its court, could make special expenditures, and
could privately instruct ambassadors,--extensive powers, which made
it the essential ruler of Venice,--and the last two centuries and a
half of the constitutional history of the Republic is simply the
story of a growing opposition to the power of the Ten.
In the early days of its existence, when a difficult question was
before the Ten, that body was accustomed to appeal to the Senate for
assistance from some of its number, appointed to the duty. These men
formed what came to be known as the Giunta, or Zonta; and having but
a temporary connection with the Ten, they were as likely to
disapprove their course as to be content with it. But in 1529 this
Zonta became a permanent body, and was composed of the most prominent
members of each of the other councils of the State. Thus, if the
action of the Ten was questioned, it was defended by the most
powerful men of the Republic, and more and more was able to enlarge
its office and increase its absolutism.
The first serious outbreak against the Ten occurred when that body
clearly overstepped its province, and asked the Doge Foscari to
resign. Legally such a request must come from the vote of the Great
Council, with the advice {287} of the Ducal Council. These councils
resented the action of the Ten; and its authority was declared to be
limited to delicate and secret matters, which might be submitted to
its consideration. These limitations were made in 1468, but were of
little effect. We find in 1483 that it was the Ten who decided on
the conduct of the Ferrarese war, and in 1508 it was the same power
that took up and decided the questions which resulted from the League
of Cambray.
A few years later a new departure was made by the Ten. In 1537 they
delegated a part of their duties, the care of the public morals, to
Esecutori contra la Bestemmia. This having been allowed, two years
later the Three Inquisitors of State were created. The special duty
of the Three was to deal with treason, which seemed to abound, as the
state secrets were constantly communicated to the ambassadors of
various countries. After the League of Cambray took effect, the
Venetians relied solely on their diplomacy. If this could not be
conducted with secrecy, their ship of state was without a rudder; and
the repeated violation of this secrecy led to the belief that even
Ten was too large a body to be trusted. The Three Inquisitors had
all the powers of the Ten, except that they were obliged to report
their sentences to the Great Council. They soon became very
objectionable to the corrupt nobility, into whose morals they had the
right to inquire; and the hatred for the Ten, and even more for the
Three, constantly increased. The first real difficulty, however, did
not occur until 1582, when the feeling developed into hostility
between the Great Council and the Ten, and was never allayed during
the existence of the Republic.
The dread of Spain, of Spanish plots and Spanish gold, had almost
paralyzed the government ever after Cambray; and when, at the
beginning of the seventeenth century, {288} Venice was involved in a
quarrel with Paul V., the Ten and the Inquisitors fully believed that
the Pope would employ the army of Spain to reduce Venice to obedience
to him. In 1612 one of the Inquisitors wrote in his memoranda:
"Right piteous is our condition. Alone we cannot resist. Allies we
have not, neither ready enough nor warm enough. Treaties we cannot
construct upon any terms which are not ruinous to us."
Six years later all the fears inspired by the Spaniards were
justified when the Spanish conspiracy was discovered. The Viceroy of
Naples, Duke of Ossuna, and the Spanish ambassador at Venice, Marquis
of Bedmar, were suspected of being the chiefs in the plot. Giacomo
Pierre was at the head of the disreputable company of questionable
characters, who were their agents, consisting of bravi, mercenaries,
and other broken-down men who went frequently to the house of the
ambassador. Pierre, however, betrayed enough of the plot to the
Venetian Resident at Naples, Spinelli, to cause him to send Pierre,
with his friends Regnault and Langlade, to Venice. They were there
left free, but constantly watched. Pierre had alleged the plot to be
the seizure of Venice. The boats of Ossuna were to enter the lagoon
at Malamocco, steal up to the Piazzetta by night, and with the aid of
confederates already there secure command of the city. Ossuna's
fleet was certainly in the Adriatic, but it did not approach Venice.
At length, by a counterplot, a full knowledge of all Pierre's plans
was brought to the Doge. Three of the conspirators were strangled,
and hanged by one leg to the gibbet between the Columns. The effect
was magical. At the sight of these three bodies, the inns and
lodging-houses, which had been full of curious and unaccountable
strangers, were immediately deserted. Thus the Spanish conspiracy
came to naught; but it was soon suspected that {289} some of the
Venetian nobles were selling information to the Spaniards, and the
discovery of the treason of Giambattista Bragadin proved these
suspicions to be correct.
Bragadin secured his election to the Senate by a fraud, and by an
ingenious method was selling to the Spanish ambassador the secrets of
the Council Chamber. He went to the Frari for his devotions, and in
a particular faldstool which he used, he left in writing his
communication for the ambassador, which was taken away by a secretary
of the embassy. A monk, who was somewhat surprised by the frequent
devotions of Bragadin, observed that the secretary always came to the
church on the same day with the Senator. This so aroused the
curiosity of the monk that he watched the two worshippers until he
discovered the secret, took one of these letters out of the faldstool
himself, and carried it to the Doge. Bragadin was hanged between the
Columns, and the ambassador hurriedly returned to Spain. In these
two cases the conduct of the Ten commended itself to all parties; but
unfortunately a sad case of another sort excited a furious hatred of
them and of their methods.
In 1609 Antonio Foscarini, who had been a wise and faithful servant
of Venice, was sent as ambassador to England. He had been there but
a short time when it was found that the contents of his despatches to
Venice were being given to other foreign ambassadors in England. His
secretary was suspected and discharged, his place being supplied by
Giulio Muscorno. After a time Muscorno and Foscarini disagreed
seriously; and Muscorno took every means to make it appear that
Foscarini was dishonest, and finally, at Venice, declared that the
ambassador had himself sold the secrets of the State. The
Inquisitors made a long and careful inquiry, which resulted in the
acquittal of Foscarini and the imprisonment of Muscorno, in 1618.
{290}
But Foscarini, having been once suspected, was carefully watched; and
when Lady Arundel of Wardour, who had been his friend in England,
came to Venice for the education of her children, his visits to her
house, where the ambassadors of different countries were also
frequently received, attracted much attention. Girolamo Vano, a
professional spy, now accused Foscarini to the Ten. He was arrested
and tried for selling state secrets by the Three Inquisitors, who
reported him to the Ten as guilty, in April, 1622. He was condemned,
as a traitor, to be strangled in prison that night, and to be hanged
by one leg between the Columns the next morning. Foscarini calmly
dictated his will to his jailer, and died with fortitude.
But it would have been wiser in the Ten to have buried him privately.
The public exposure of his strangled corpse angered the nobility,
while it also terrified them; and when, four months later, it was
proved that Foscarini had been an innocent man, the rage against the
Ten and the Three was fully justified. Everything possible was done
to repair the ghastly error. Girolamo Vano was strangled in his
turn. An order was published at home and sent abroad, acknowledging
the fatal mistake. The body of Foscarini was exhumed and reburied
with all the pomp due a senator; but such an exposure of the Ten
absolutely forbade confidence in them or their methods. They never
recovered from its effect, and their opponents took every advantage
of their grave and even criminal blunder.
The jealousy of the Great Council and the Senate brought about a
feeling of opposition to the Ten, which was shared by a large party
of the people; and at length, in 1627, a commission was appointed to
revise the laws by which the Ten were governed. From time to time
the hostility to the Ten and the Inquisitors was fanned to a brighter
flame, and in the eighteenth century the opposition {291} to them
became more active. In 1761 the Great Council refused to elect new
members of the Ten; and it is both sad and amusing that so grave an
act should result from a quarrel over a lady's caps!
A modiste had made caps for a lady, and failed to please her. A
second lady was a friend of a Senator, Angelo Querini, who, in order
to please the friend of his friend, procured an order for the
expulsion of the cap-maker. The modiste appealed to the Three, and
they cancelled the order for expulsion, and declared it unjust.
Querini then began to complain of the tyranny of the Inquisitors, and
found much sympathy among the nobles. All this so incensed the Three
that they resolved to arrest Querini and exile him at Verona; and
this folly gave the Great Council its opportunity to declare its
hostility to the Ten and the Three, and to refuse to perpetuate these
offices.
An examination into the affairs of the Ten and the Inquisitors
resulted in their triumph; but there was a revolutionary spirit in
Venice which was rapidly growing. An order was issued closing cafés
and wine-shops at dark, and forbidding political discussions. The
following reply to this was posted up: "The company of night thieves
thanks the Ten for giving them the opportunity of winning their
supper at a reasonable hour." The chief mouthpiece of the liberal
party was Giorgio Pisani, and he was bold in the declaration of his
opinions; but the Three were too powerful as yet to permit the
theories of the Republicans to be thus freely expressed, and Pisani
was deported to Verona in 1780. In that year the Doge Paolo Renier
said: "If there be any State in the world which absolutely requires
concord at home, it is ours. We have no forces, either on land or on
sea. We have no alliances. We live by luck, by accident, and solely
dependent upon the conception of Venetian prudence which others
entertain about us."
{292}
"How are the mighty fallen!" What would Sebastiano Ziani, Enrico
Dandolo, Pietro Gradenigo, and many another Doge have thought of such
a fate as this for the Venice of their love and pride?
The time was soon to come when another Doge, deposed by a resolution
of the Great Council, should give the beretta to his servant,--we may
believe with a sense of relief,--and say, "Take it away; we shall not
use it any more." Napoleon had come to relieve him of his cares; and
we cannot doubt that he was half welcome to those who were so weary
of the rule of the Ten and the Three, the party who believed in
revolution. The efforts made to keep the Republic alive were so
feeble as to seem ridiculous. But what could be done without an
army, without a navy, and without money? A deputation was sent to
Napoleon, and his reply was sufficiently clear and comprehensive: "I
have eighty thousand men and twenty gunboats. I will have no more
Inquisitors, no more Senate. I will be an Attila for Venice."
On May 3, 1797, Bonaparte issued his proclamation: "The
Commander-in-Chief requires the French minister to leave Venice;
orders the several agents of the Republic of Venice to leave Lombardy
and the Venetian Terra Firma within twenty-four hours! He orders the
different generals of divisions to treat the Venetian troops as
enemies, and to destroy the Lion of Saint Mark in all the towns of
the Terra Firma."
The whole government--Doge, Senate, the Ten, and the Three--seemed to
vanish into oblivion. The great Venetian Republic fell without a
sound. Eight days after the manifesto the tricolor waved above the
Piazza, a popular constitution was declared, and a provisional
government established. The Venetian fleet was manned and sent to
Toulon. The French took possession of Corfu; and Venice was wholly
in the power of France, to be {293} disposed of as might suit the
will or the need of that nation. And the need soon came; for when,
after a summer of fruitless negotiation with the Emperor of Austria,
the snow appeared on the mountains, Napoleon decided to make peace.
He would not risk a winter campaign, and said to Bourrienne, "Venice
shall be exchanged for the boundary of the Rhine, and thus be made to
pay for the war."
The treaty was signed at Campo Formio on the 17th of October. The
ex-Doge, Lodovico Manin, when taking the oath of allegiance to
Austria, sank insensible on the ground, and lived but a few days
afterward. Thus he was spared the second humiliation of Venice,
when, in January, 1798, the tricolor was replaced by the
double-headed eagle, and the days of its captivity and oppression
began.
Venice seemed now to be a make-weight to be used in Napoleonic
treaties; and in 1805, at Presburg, the kingdom of Italy was ceded to
its first conqueror, and Venice came within the government of the
French Viceroy, Eugene Beauharnais. During ten years northern Italy,
while not independent, was awake. New and broader ideas replaced the
older theories; and the hearts of the people were filled with
aspirations and hopes that were all blasted by the so-called
Restoration of 1815, which confirmed a reign of tyranny in Venice.
An Austrian Archduke, under Metternich, acted as Viceroy; and a
system of secret courts, police spies, barbarous punishments, and
oppressive taxation was inaugurated.
Under the French rule Italian soldiers remained at home, or won
honors in the wars. Under the Austrians they were sent beyond the
Alps, and the white-coated foreign troops held the Venetians as in a
prison. The civil offices were filled by Germans, whose harsh
gutturals conveyed no meaning, and inspired dislike in the {294}
soft-speaking Venetians, who were in turn incomprehensible to these
officials. The simplest matters were laboriously referred to the
Aulic Council at Vienna. Letters were not safe, since the spies
opened them. No redress could be had through the press, which was
gagged. The pillory, flogging, and other equally barbarous customs
were revived; and, in short, no method was spared that could impress
on the Venetians the thought that they were living and breathing by
the permission and according to the will of a cruel tyrant. To quote
from "The Dawn of Italian Independence," by W. R. Thayer:--
"The Italian must obey laws imposed upon him by a foreigner,--laws
which had been framed without his voice, for the benefit of a master
who dwelt at Vienna. Were a law good, he hated it because it was a
cog in the great wheel of tyranny; were it bad, he hated it because
it threatened directly his property, his freedom, or his life.
Napoleon's rule had been despotic, but it had been despotic on a
grand scale; he had conquered by force; he had opened avenues to
glory; he had awakened a virile spirit, and shed round him large and
stirring ideas: but these Austrians had sneaked into their supremacy;
they were arrogant and conceited; their emperor was bigoted, petty,
and unyielding; a man who depended on eavesdroppers and tricksters
for his information; a man who had not a single heroic attribute, nor
uttered, during the course of a long life, a single thought whereby
mankind was made stronger or wiser; a martinet, only fitted to be the
superintendent of a small reformatory school for juvenile criminals.
So to the Italians the contrast between the recent French rule and
the present Austrian was typified by the contrast between Napoleon
and Francis; but the incompatibility between the two peoples had the
deepest source,--it sprang from racial antipathy."
When, in 1848, Metternich was driven from Vienna, and the Austrians
from Milan, the Venetians also were ready to demand and to conquer
their liberty. Manin, who had been imprisoned a few weeks before,
was released, {295} upon an order from the governor, who dared not
refuse it. A few days later he agreed to withdraw with all foreign
soldiers, leaving the munitions and public treasure behind. The
Venetian Republic, with Manin as President, was at once declared in
the Piazza; the Italian tricolor again streamed from the three masts
before the cathedral, and without fighting or bloodshed Venice was
free. Her oppressors departed; her flag waved over her borders on
the south and west. Her independence was recognized by the Consul of
the United States; and all the people, with one accord, assembled in
San Marco to thank God and their glorious saint that again Venice was
a Republic.
The Republic was declared on the 22d of March, 1848, and on the 18th
of June the Austrians began to draw trenches round Mestre, thus
cutting off communication between the mainland and Venice. The
National Assembly did not meet until July 3, when, after attending
Mass in the cathedral, one hundred and thirty-three deputies ascended
the Giants' Staircase, and entered the Hall of the Great Council. It
was a remarkable gathering, and momentous consequences hung upon its
decisions. Thayer says:--
"If ever the monuments of a splendid Past might inspire men of a
later generation with a sense, a hallowing sense, of the glory and
dignity of which those monuments were the products and witnesses, it
would be in that Hall of the Great Council, when those
representatives of free Venice met there to determine her fate. Let
a deputy look where he would, he saw reminders of the strength and
beauty of the State which his ancestors had raised to a unique
position among the nations of the world. Venice, though built on the
shifting mud where sea-gulls made their nests, yet had, through the
indomitable courage of her sons, a foundation more permanent than
that of rock-born cities; she counted her life, not by decades nor by
{296} generations, but by ages, she had been strong when her
neighbors were weak; she had been civilized when Paris and London
were but half-barbarous settlements, and the site of Berlin was a
morass; in her great days she had bowed neither to pope nor to
emperor; and she had ever been so surpassingly beautiful, floating
there on the Adriatic for fourteen hundred years, as delicate and
wonderful as a nautilus, yet firm as marble and stancher than the
stanchest ship. And now, after fifty years of servitude, she was
again free, robed in the glory of her incomparable Past, and
resolutely facing the strange world and perils upon which she had
reawakened. No son of hers on that 3d of July could sit in the Great
Hall and not feel that his action, must not only match the solemn
exigencies of the Present, but also be worthy of the city to which
forty generations of his ancestors had consecrated their lives, and
to which Dandolo and Morosini, and many another as just and brave as
these, had brought the offering of their individual fame."
The Assembly, after listening to all the arguments for and against
the measure, voted to unite with Piedmont, and a deputation was sent
to announce this decision to Charles Albert. We will not here
recount the unhappy failure of this king, nor the armistice by which
Piedmont was again placed under the Austrian yoke. It is enough to
say that Venice was left alone, that no help came from France or
England; and when, on March 27, 1849, news of the fatal defeat of
Charles Albert at Novara was brought to the Venetians, with a summons
to surrender, they knew that they must rely on themselves alone. The
Assembly voted to resist Austria at any cost, and to give unlimited
power to Manin. A red flag was unfurled from the Campanile, as a
sign that Venice would resist to the death; and a copy of the vote
was sent to the Austrians without a word of comment.
Then began the preparations for defence. The condition of the troops
was discouraging. There were less {297} than thirty thousand men,
and but two hundred and fifty in the engineer corps. The soldiers
had suffered for want of proper food, clothing, and shelter all
through the winter, and there was much sickness at the forts in the
low, malarial places. But her position gave the inhabitants of
Venice great courage. At one point alone, the newly completed
railway bridge, could she be reached from the land. Much, too,
depended on the defence of the fortifications of Brondolo, which
overlooked the passage of the Brenta. To prevent a successful attack
at these two points, and a blockade by sea, would make Venice
impregnable, protected as she was by sand-bars, marshes, pools, and
canals.
The Austrians seemed in no haste; and throughout April the Venetians
were busy in fortifying Marghera and in various defensive
preparations. They also tried by every argument and offer in their
power to persuade England and France to come to their aid. But on
May 4 the attack on Venice began in earnest. As earnest was its
defence; and the experience of the next three months and more is one
that merits a far more detailed and careful history than can be given
here,--such an one as may be found in "The Dawn of Italian
Independence." During those months the heroism, the patriotism, and
the devotion of the Venetians were such as has not been surpassed.
They knew that without aid from some outside power they must at last
succumb, not to the Austrians, but to famine and disease. The aid
never came. Both French and English men-of-war lay in sight of
Venice, beyond the line of danger, watching the bombardment as they
might watch a harmless parade. They saw the corpse-laden boats
passing and repassing to San Michele. In one week fifteen hundred
died of cholera; but when the Venetian director of hospitals asked
the French naval commander for medicine, he replied, "That would be
{298} contrary to the Law of Nations, since it is natural that the
besieger seeks to do as much injury as possible to the besieged "!
Through all that summer Manin was the soul of Venice. On him
devolved all responsibility, and he bore his trust with absolute
fidelity. At length, when food was exhausted, the wells dried, and
the city was being rapidly depopulated by famine, he capitulated. On
the 30th of August Radetzky found that he had triumphed over a
pest-ridden, starving, dying city. Forty Venetians had been
condemned to banishment. Manin was of the number; and early on the
28th, followed by the prayers and blessings of the people, he sailed
away, never to see Venice again. But as he looked back upon her
beloved towers, as she faded from his sight forever, no foreign flag
floated above her. The kindly exile saved him from the actual sight
of her dismemberment by the Hapsburg bird of prey.
The enemies of Italy now believed that the last hope of Italian
liberty was destroyed. Save in Piedmont, that little kingdom, no
remnant of freedom could be discovered. The various princes who
ruled, from the Alps to the Sicilies, ruled by Austrian permission,
and maintained themselves by Austrian support. But there were those
who still hoped, still prayed, still labored for the full liberty of
all Italy; and among these Manin was with the foremost. Garibaldi
never despaired, and even the defeated and dying Charles Albert
wrote:--
"If Divine Providence has not permitted that the regeneration of
Italy should be accomplished, I have confidence that at least it is
only deferred; that so many examples of virtue, so many acts of
courage and generosity, emanating from the nation, will not remain
sterile, and that past adversities will only engage the peoples of
Italy to be another time more united to be more invincible."
{299}
This prophecy was fulfilled. Venice was not the scene of the great
struggle. It was on the mainland that the battles were fought, and
in other parts of Italy that the diplomatic tournaments were held.
It requires little imagination to see with what interest every action
was watched, how eagerly all news was heard by the Venetians, ground
as they were beneath the Austrian heel; and when, after the battle of
Solferino, in 1859, from the Campanile the fleets were visible off
the lagoons, the heart of Venice throbbed with that of all Italy in
the feeling of a national life which was every day growing stronger
and stronger.
But the end was not yet. The Peace of Villafranca brought the
Venetians no release, and the fresh disappointment was hard to bear.
They had rejoiced with each success of the allied Piedmontese and
French. They had even dreamed dreams, and anticipated choosing their
own ruler and being again an independent people. They longed to
bring home their dead Manin, and by their respect to his remains
testify their love for him. Every house in Venice in an hour became
a house of mourning; and a feeling of utter desolation, of being
deserted, forgotten, was like a black pall over all. Even Milan,
which had so long shared the fate of Venice, was now free.
The truth was better than this. All Italy was rebellious at the fate
of Venice; and at Milan, least of all, was she forgotten. No
settlement was desired that did not give freedom to Venice. Every
Italian in reality wished but one thing,--a united, a single Italy.
In the new Parliament, in October, 1860, Cavour spoke of the union of
Venice to the rest of Italy as a fact that must soon be accomplished;
and we have trustworthy proof that neither the successful Garibaldi
in the quiet of Caprera, nor the king amid his cares at Turin, was
forgetful of Venice and Rome. In the midst of the exacting duties of
these {300} days, when a new government was to be organized and
established, and that government was weighed down with debt, with
brigandage, and with many other evils of a more subtle nature, which
taxed the wisdom and forbearance of the king and his ministers, their
thoughts were often fixed upon the injustice to Venice; and the only
methods by which she could be freed--war or negotiation--were
discussed with untiring interest, and there was constantly growing a
determination to force a solution of the Venetian and Roman questions.
However, it was not until 1866 that the real struggle came. To the
call for soldiers the most satisfactory responses were made. They
came from all classes, from the most aristocratic families, as well
as the middle and lower classes; and the Italian army soon numbered
about two hundred thousand men. The Venetians had contributed
fourteen thousand men before this; and when the call for volunteers
was made, many more succeeded in passing the frontier and joining the
army.
On the 24th of June the Austrians were triumphant at Custoza; but the
Prussian allies of Italy, on the 5th of July, so defeated the
Austrians at Sadowa, that through the French emperor an offer was
made to restore Venetia to Italy. The final treaty was not concluded
between Austria and Italy until Oct. 3, 1866; and meantime, in a
naval battle off Lissa, the Italians had suffered a most mortifying
defeat, under such circumstances as deprived Admiral Persano of his
rank, and dismissed him from the service.
Three days after the treaty was signed, the troops of Italy were
received in Venice with an enthusiasm which was only exceeded by that
of the reception of Victor Emmanuel himself a month later. Now
acknowledged as King of Italy by all other governments, with the iron
crown of Lombardy and the famous quadrilateral {301} peacefully in
his possession, he had but one thing more to gain,--the submission of
Rome,--before he could proclaim the unification of Italy; and this
was sure to come, as it did but four years later.
In 1873 the Emperor of Austria invited the King of Italy to Vienna on
the occasion of the Great Exhibition. The invitation was most
courteously given and as courteously accepted; and two years later
the Emperor Francis Joseph proposed to return the visit of Victor
Emmanuel, and suggested Venice as the city in which they should meet.
One must reflect for a moment on the meaning of such a visit to
Venice. It was the fulfilment of the prophecy of Daniele Manin: "The
day will come in which Italy, reconstituted as a nation, will be the
first friend of Austria." This great patriot believed that freedom
and right must triumph over despotism and wrong. But one month
before the visit of the Austrian Emperor the statue of Manin had been
inaugurated with splendid ceremonies, and the most heartfelt tributes
to his honor paid by the Venetians whom he had served so faithfully.
His remains had been brought from Paris, in 1868, and deposited in a
temporary tomb in the Cathedral of San Marco, the only interment
there for more than three centuries. The church of S. Paterniano was
taken down, and the statue of Manin erected on the site near the red
house in which he had lived; and the campo is now called by the name
of the patriot instead of that of the saint.
It was on the 5th of April, 1875, that a procession of gondolas, all
in gala dress, passed up the Grand Canal. The most magnificent of
all these hundreds of boats bore the King of Italy and his guest, the
Emperor of Austria and King of Hungary. The whole city demonstrated
its good will in every possible way; and when the two sovereigns
landed at the Piazzetta, there was a great demonstration {302} of
welcome. The bands played alternately the national airs of the two
countries, and in every possible way the people strove to express the
fact that the hostility against Austria which had so long reigned at
Venice, was absolutely a thing of the past. Victor Emmanuel was so
much gratified by the conduct of the Venetians on this occasion that
he frequently referred to it as a proof of the nobility of a people
who could so soon forget and forgive all that Venice had suffered in
the long years of her bondage under the Austrian rule.
From these beginnings, which we have so cursorily considered, in
little more than a quarter of a century, the Italy we now know has
arisen.
{303}