"Varie sono le opinioni degli Scrittori circa l'edificazione di Pisa,"
says Tronci in his _Annali Pisani_, published at Livorno in the
seventeenth century. "Various are the opinions of writers as to the
building of Pisa, but all agree that it was founded by the Greeks. Cato
in his _Fragment_, and Dionysius Halicarnassus in the first book of his
_History_, affirm that the founders were the Pisi Alfei Pelasgi, who had
for their captain the King Pelops, as Pliny says in his _Natural
History_ (lib. 5), and Solinus too, as though it were indubitable: who
does not know that Pisa was from Pelops?" Certainly Pisa is very old,
and whether or no King Pelops, as Pliny thought, founded the city, the
Romans thought her as old as Troy. In 225 B.C. she was an Etruscan city,
and the friend of Rome; in Strabo's day she was but two miles from
the sea; Caesar's time she became a Roman military station; while in 4
A.D. we read that the disturbances at the elections were so serious that
she was left without magistrates. That fact in itself seems to bring the
city before our eyes: it is so strangely characteristic of her later
history.
[Illustration: PISA
_Alinari_]
But in spite of her enormous antiquity, there are very few left of her
Etruscan and Roman days, the remains of some Roman Thermae, Bagni di
Nerone near the Porta Lucca being, indeed, all that we may claim, save
the urns and sarcophagi scattered in the Campo Santo, from the great
days of Rome. The glory of Pisa is the end of the Middle Age and the
early dawn of the Renaissance. There, amid all the hurly-burly and
terror of invasion and civil wars, she shines like a beacon beside the
sea, proud, brave, and full of hope, almost the only city not altogether
enslaved in a country in the grip of the barbarian, almost overwhelmed
by the Lombards. And indeed, she was one of the first cities of Italy to
fling off the Lombard yoke. Favoured by her position on the shores of
the Tyrrhenian Sea, yet not so near the coast as to invite piracy, she
waged incessant war on Greek and Saracen. Lombardy, heavy with conquest,
fearful for her prize, which was Italy, was compelled to encourage the
growth of the naval cities. It was on the sea that the future of Pisa
lay, like the glory of the sun that in its splendour and pride passes
away too soon.
Already in the ninth century we hear of her prowess at Salerno, while in
the tenth, having possessed herself of her own government under consuls,
she sent a fleet to help the Emperor Otho II in Sicily. Fighting without
respite or rest, continually victorious, never downhearted, she had
opened the weary story of the civil strife of Italy with a war against
Lucca, in the year 1004.[17] It was the first outburst of that hatred
in her heart which in the end was to destroy her for she died of a
poverty of love.
In 1005, still with her fleet engaged in Sicilian waters, the Arab
pirates fell upon her, and, forcing the harbour, sacked a whole quarter
of the city. For the time Pisa could do little against the foes of
Europe, but in 1016 she allied herself with that city which proved at
last to be her deadliest foe, Genoa the Proud, and the united fleets
swept down on Sardinia for vengeance. It was this victorious expedition
that aroused the hatred of the Pisans for Genoa, a jealousy that was
only extinguished when at last Pisa was crushed at Meloria.
Many were the attempts of the Arabs to regain Sardinia, but Pisa was not
to be deceived. Coasting along the African shore, her fleet took Bona
and threatened Carthage. Yet in 1050 the Arabs of Morocco and Spain
stole the island from her, only Cagliari holding out under the nobles
for the mother city. There was more than the loss of Sardinia at stake,
for with the victory of the Arabs the highway of the sea was no longer
secure, the existence of Pisa, and not of Pisa only, was threatened. So
we find Genoa once more standing beside Pisa in the fight of Europe. The
fleets again were combined, this time under the command of a Pisan, one
Gualduccio, a plebeian. He sailed for Cagliari, landed his men, and
engaged the enemy on the beach. The Arabs were led by the King Mogahid,
Rè Musetto, as the Italians called him. He was over eighty years old at
the time, and though still full of cunning valour, attacked by the
fleets in front and the garrison in the rear, his army was defeated and
put to flight. He himself, fleeing on horseback, was wounded in two
places, and falling was captured; and they took him in chains to Pisa,
where he died. Thus Sardinia once more fell into the hands of Europe,
and the island, divided in fiefs under the rule of Pisa,[18] was held
and governed by her.
But Pisa was not yet done with the Arab. She stood for Europe. In 1063
she fought at Palermo, returning laden with booty. It was then, after
much discussion in the Senate,[19] sending an embassy to the Pope and
another to "Rè Henrico di Germania," that she decided to employ this
spoil in building the Duomo, in the place where the old Church of S.
Reparata stood, and more anciently the Baths of Hadrian, the Emperor.
The temple, Tronci tells us,[20] was dedicated to the Magnificent Queen
of the Universe, Mary, ever Virgin, most worthy Mother of God, Advocate
of sinners. It was begun in 1064, and many years, as Tronci says, were
consumed in the building of it.[21] The pillars--and there are
many--were brought by the Pisans from Africa, from Egypt, from
Jerusalem, from Sardinia, and other far lands.
At this time Pisa was divided into four parts, called _Quartieri_. The
first was called _Ponte_, the ensign of which was a rosy Gonfalon; the
second, _di Mezzo_, which had a standard with seven yellow stripes on a
red field; the third, _Foriporta_, which had a white gate in a rosy
field; and the fourth, _Chinsica_ with a white cross in a red field.[22]
Nor was the Duomo the only building that the Pisans undertook about this
time. Eight years later, the Church of S. Pietro in Vincoli, called
to-day S. Pierino, was built on a spot where of old "there was a temple
of the Gentiles" dedicated to Apollo; that, when the Pisans received
the faith of Jesus Christ, they gave to St. Peter, the Prince of the
Apostles. This church appears to have been consecrated by the great
Archbishop Peter on 30th August 1119.
These two churches, and especially the Duomo, still perhaps the most
wonderful church in Italy, prove the greatness of the civilisation of
Pisa at this time. She was then a self-governed city, owing allegiance,
it is true, to the Marquisate of Tuscany, but with consuls of her own.
Since she was so warlike, the nobles naturally had a large part in her
affairs. In the Crusade of 1099 the Pisans were late, as the Genoese
never ceased to remind them,--to come late, in Genoa, being spoken of as
"_Come l'ajuto di Pisa_"; and, indeed, like the Genoese, the Pisans
thought as much of their own commercial advantage in these Holy Wars as
of the Tomb of Jesus. In 1100 they returned from Jerusalem, their
merchants having gained, _una loggia, una contrada, un fondaco e una
chiesa_ for their nation in Constantinople, with many other fiscal
benefits. Nor were they forgetful of their Duomo, for they came home
with much spoil, bringing the bodies of the Saints Nicodemus the Prince
of the Pharisees, Gamaliel the master of St. Paul, and Abibone, one of
the seventy-two disciples of our Lord Jesus Christ.[23]
Encouraged by their success, not long afterwards, they, in their
invincible confidence and force, decided to undertake another
enterprise. Urged thereto by their Archbishop Peter, they set out,
partly for glory, partly in the hope of spoil to free the thousands of
Christians held captive by the Arabs in the Balearic islands. The fleet
sailed on the 6th August 1114, the Feast of S. Sisto, the anniversary of
other victories. There were, it seems, some three hundred ships of
diverse strength; and every sort of person, old and young, took part in
this adventure. Going astray, they first landed in Catalonia and did
much damage; then, "acknowledging their unfortunate mistake," they found
the island, where, under Archbishop Peter and the Pope's gonfalone,
they were entirely successful. They released the captives, and, amid the
immense spoil, they brought away the son of the Moorish king, whom later
they baptized in Pisa and sent back to the Moors. The Pisan dead were,
however, very many. At first they thought to load a ship with the slain
and bring them home again; but this was not found possible. Sailing at
last for Marseilles, they buried them there in the Badia di S. Vittore,
later bringing the monks to Pisa.
Now, while the glory of Pisa shone thus upon the waters far away, the
Lucchesi thought to seize Pisa herself, deprived of her manhood. But the
Florentines, who at this time were friends with Pisa, since their
commerce depended upon the Porto Pisano, sent a company to guard the
city, encamping some two miles off; for since so much loot lay to hand,
to wit, Pisa herself, the Florentine captains feared lest they might not
be able to hold their men. And, indeed, one of their number entered the
city intent on the spoil, but was taken, and they judged him worthy only
of death. But the Pisans, not to be outdone in honour, refused to allow
him to be executed in their territory; then the Florentines bought a
plot of ground near the camp, and killed him there. When the fleet
returned and heard this, they determined to send Florence a present to
show their gratitude. Now, among the spoil were some bronze gates and
two rosy pillars of porphyry, very precious. Then they besought the
Florentines to choose one of these, the gates or the pillars, as a gift.
And Florence chose the pillars, which stand to-day beside the eastern
gate of the Baptistery in that city. But on the way to Florence they
encountered the Mugnone in flood, and were thrown down and broken there.
Hence the Florentines, that scornful and suspicious folk, swore that the
Pisans had cracked their gifts themselves with fire before sending them,
that Florence might not possess things so fair.
Other jealousies, too, arose out of the success of Pisa, though
indirectly. For the Genoese, never content that she should have the
overlordship of Sardinia, were still more disturbed when Pope Gelasius
II., that Pisan, gave Corsica to Pisa, so that about 1125[24] they made
war on her. The war lasted many years, till Innocent II, being Pope and
come to Pisa, made peace, giving the Genoese certain rights in Corsica.
About this time S. Bernard was in Pisa, where in 1134 Innocent II held a
General Council; not for long, however, for in the same year he set out
for Milan to reconcile that Church with Rome.
Her quarrel with Genoa was scarcely finished when Pisa found herself at
war with the Normans in Southern Italy, defending heroically the city of
Naples and utterly destroying Amalfi, the wonderful republic of the
South.[25] Certainly the might of Pisa was great; her supremacy was
unquestionable from Lerici to Piombino, but behind her hills Lucca was
on watch, not far away Florence her friend as yet, held the valley of
the Arno, while Genoa on the sea dogged her steps between the
continents. Thus Pisa stood in the middle of the twelfth century the
strongest and most warlike city in Tuscany, full of ambition and the
love of beauty and glory. For it was now in 1152 that she began to build
the Baptistery, and in 1174 the famous Campanile, a group of buildings
with the Duomo unrivalled in the world.
Meanwhile the Great Countess of Tuscany had died in 1115; more and more
Italy became divided against itself, and by the end of the century
Guelph and Ghibelline, commune and noble, were tearing her in pieces.
Tuscany, really little more than a group of communes devoted to trade,
with the great feudatories ever in the offing, without any real unity,
slowly became the stronghold of the Guelphs. Only Pisa,[26] glorying in
the strength of the sea and the splendour of war, was Ghibelline, with
Siena on her sunny hills. Now, having won Sardinia for herself, her
nobles there established were, as was their manner everywhere,
continually at feud. The Church, thinking to make Pisan sovereignty less
secure, supported the weaker. Already Innocent III had, following this
plan, called on the Pisans to withdraw their claim to the island. And it
was a Pisan noble, Visconti, who, marrying into one of the island
families related to Gregory IX, recognised the Papal suzerainty. Thus
this family in Pisa became Guelph. But the other nobles, among whom was
the Gherardesca family, threw their weight on the other side, and so
Pisa, who had ever leaned that way, became staunchly Ghibelline.[27]
The quarrel with Florence was certain sooner or later, for Florence was
growing in strength and riches; she would not for ever be content to let
Pisa hold her sea-gate, taking toll of all that passed in and out. It
was in 1222 that the first war broke out with the White Lily. Any excuse
was good enough; the bone of contention appears to have been a lap-dog
belonging to one of the Ambassadors[28]. Pisa was beaten. In 1259,
nevertheless, she turned on the Genoese and drove them down the seas.
But the death of Frederic in 1250 was the true end of the Ghibelline
cause in Italy.
What then did Pisa look like in these the days of her great power and
prosperity? She was a city, we may think, of narrow shadowy streets like
the Via delle Belle Torri, full of refuse and garbage too, for then, as
now in the remoter places, the household slops were simply hurled out of
the windows with a mere _guarda_! called from an upper window. And to
the horror of less fortunate cities, these streets were full of "Pagans,
Turks, Libyans, Parthians, and foul Chaldeans, with their incense,
pearls, and jewels." Yet though so good a Guelph as Donizo, the
biographer of the great Countess, can express his horror of these
"Gentiles," Genoa, too, must have been in much the same case; but then
Genoa was Guelph, and Pisa Ghibelline. Yet then, as to-day in that quiet
far corner of the city, in a meadow sprinkled with daisies, the great
white Duomo stood a silent witness to the splendour of the noblest
republic in Tuscany.
But her day was too soon over. In 1254, Florence and Lucca met and
defeated her. The Guelphs had won. In Pisa we find the government
reformed, elders appointed, a senate, a great council, and Podestà, a
Captain of the People. It seemed as though Pisa herself was about to
become Guelph, or at any rate to fling out her nobles. But in many a
distant colony the nobles ruled, undisturbed by the disaster at home.
And then, almost before she had set her house in order, the splendid
victory of Monteaperto threw the Guelphs into confusion, and the banners
of Pisa once more flew wide and far. But the fatal cause of the Empire
was doomed; Manfred fell at Benevento, and Corradino was defeated at
Tagliacozzo by Charles of Anjou, who, not content with victory, expelled
the Pisan merchants from his ports. There was left to her the sea.
Now Ugolino della Gherardesca, of the great family which had been
especially enraged by the conduct of Visconti, married his sister to one
of that family reigning at Gallura in Sardinia. This man, the judge of
Gallura, as he was called, had come to live in Pisa. The Pisans looked
with much suspicion on this alliance, and exiled first the Visconti and
later Ugolino himself, with all the other Guelphs. Ugolino went to
Lucca, and with her help in 1276 overcame his native city and forced her
to receive again the exiles. Then the merchandise of Florence passed
freely through her port, Lucca regained her fortresses, and Pisa herself
fell into the possession of Ugolino.
Nevertheless, without a thought of fear, looking ever seaward, she
awaited the Genoese attack, certain that it would come, since she was
divided within her gates. It was to be a fight to the death. During the
year 1282 the Genoese were driven back from the mouth of the Arno, the
Pisans were driven from Genoa, and scattered and spoiled by a storm.
These were but skirmishes; the fight was yet to come. In Genoa they
built a hundred and fifty ships of war; the Pisans, too, were straining
every nerve. Then came a running fight off Sardinia, in which the Pisans
had the worse of it, losing eight galleys and fifteen hundred men. Yet
they were not disheartened. They made Alberto Morosini, a Venetian,
their Podestà, and with him as Admirals were Count Ugolino della
Gherardesca and Andreotto Saracini. When the treasury was empty the
nobles gave their fortunes for the public cause. We hear of one family
giving eleven ships of war, others gave six, others less, as they were
able. At midsummer 1284 more than a hundred galleys sailed to Genoa, and
in scorn shot arrows of silver into the great harbour. But the Genoese
were not yet prepared. They were ready a few days later, however, when
the watchers by Arno "descried a hundred and seven sail" making for the
Porto. Then Pisa thrust forth her ships. With songs and with
thanksgiving the Archbishop Ubaldino, at the head of all the clergy of
the city, flung the Pisan standard out on the wind. It was night when
the fleet was lost to sight in the offing. In that night there came to
the Genoese thirty ships by way of reinforcement unknown to the Pisans.
These they hid behind the island of Meloria. At dawn the battle broke.
In many squadrons the ships flung themselves on one another, and for
long the victory hung in the balance. The Pisans had already grappled
for boarding, the battle was yet to win, when the Genoese reinforcements
sailed out from the island straight for the Pisan Admirals. The battle
was over. Flight--it was all that was left for Pisa. Ugolino himself was
said to have given the signal.
There fell that day five thousand Pisans, with eleven thousand captured,
and twenty-eight galleys lost to Genoa. There was no family in Pisa but
mourned its dead: for six months on every side nothing was heard but
lamentations and mourning. If you would see Pisa, it was said, you must
go to Genoa.
Pisa had lost the sea. In Tuscany she stood with Arezzo facing the
Guelph League. She elected Ugolino her Captain-General.[29] A man of the
greatest force and ability, he was ambitious rather for himself than for
Pisa. Having many Guelph friends, his business was to beat Genoa and the
Guelph League. He succeeded in part. He bribed Florence with certain
strongholds to leave the League, and he expelled the Ghibellines from
Pisa. Then he offered Genoa Castro in Sardinia as ransom for the Pisan
prisoners; but they sent word to the Council that they would not accept
their freedom at the price of the humiliation of their city. Such were
the Pisans. And, indeed, they threatened that if at such a price they
were set free, they would return only to punish those who had thought
such treason. Ugolino for his part cared not.[30] He proceeded to bribe
Lucca with other strongholds. In the city all was confusion. Ugolino was
turned out of the Dictatorship, he became Captain of the People. Not for
long, however, for soon he contrived to make himself tyrant again.
Now the Genoese, seeing they were like to get nothing out of their
prisoners by this, were anxious for a money ransom. But Ugolino, fearing
those brave men, broke the truce with Genoa, urging certain pirates of
Sardinia to attack the Genoese; and, in order to make sure of this,
while he himself went to his castle in the country, he arranged with
Ruggieri dei Ubaldini, the Archbishop, to expel the Guelphs, among them
his own nephew, from Pisa. The plot succeeded; but Pisa desired that the
Archbishop should for the future divide the power with Ugolino. To this
Ugolino would not agree, and in a rage he slew the nephew of the
Archbishop. Meanwhile, Ugolino's nephew, Nino Visconti, was plotting
with him to return. This came to the ears of Ruggieri, who called the
Ghibellines to arms, and at last succeeded in capturing Ugolino and his
family, after days of fighting. Well had Marco Lombardo, that "wise and
valiant man of affairs," told him, "The wrath of God is the only thing
lacking to you."
"Of a truth," says Villani, the old Florentine Chronicler,--"of a truth
the wrath of God soon came upon him, as it pleased God, because of his
treacheries and crimes; for when the Archbishop of Pisa and his
followers had succeeded in driving out Nino and his party, by the
counsel and treachery of Count Ugolino the forces of the Guelphs were
diminished; and then the Archbishop took counsel how to betray Count
Ugolino; and in a sudden uproar of the people he was attacked and
assaulted at the palace, the Archbishop giving the people to understand
that he had betrayed Pisa, and given up their fortresses to the
Florentines and the Lucchesi; and, being without any defence, the people
having turned against him, he surrendered himself prisoner; and at the
said assault one of his bastard sons and one of his grandsons were
slain, and Count Ugolino was taken and two of his sons and three
grandsons, his son's children, and they were put in prison; and his
household and followers, the Visconti and Ubizinghi, Guatini and all the
other Guelph houses, were driven out of Pisa. Thus was the traitor
betrayed by the traitor.... In the said year 1288, in the said month of
March ... the Pisans chose for their captain Count Guido of Montefeltro,
giving him wide jurisdiction and lordship; and he passed the boundaries
of Piedmont, within which he was confined by his terms of surrender to
the Church, and came to Pisa; for which thing he and his sons and family
and all the commonwealth of Pisa were excommunicated by the Church of
Rome, as rebels and enemies against Holy Church. And when the said Count
was come to Pisa ... the Pisans, which had put in prison Count Ugolino
and his two sons, and two sons of Count Guelpho his son ... in the tower
on the Piazza degli Anziani, caused the door of the said tower to be
locked and the keys thrown into Arno, and refused to the said prisoners
any food, which in a few days died there of hunger. And albeit first the
said Count demanded with cries to be shriven; yet did they not grant him
a friar or a priest to confess him. And when all the five dead bodies
were taken out of the tower, they were buried without honour; and
thenceforward the said prison was called the Tower of Hunger, and will
be always[31]."
Enough of Ugolino. Count Guido, that mystical, fierce soul from Urbino,
seeing danger everywhere, called the whole city to the army. Florence
had allied herself with Lucca and Genoa[32]. Count Guido's business was
to beat them. He did it[33]; so that by the Assumption of Our Lady in
1292 he had won back again nearly all the lost fortresses, and wrung
peace from the Guelph League. Nevertheless, Pisa was compelled to
sacrifice her captain, and to see Genoa established in Corsica and in
part of Sardinia; also she had to pay 160,000 lire to Genoa for the
Pisan captives, and in Elba to admit Genoese trade free of tax.
Some idea of the glory of Pisa even when she had suffered so much may be
had, perhaps, from Tronci's account of that Festival of the Assumption
of the Blessed Virgin as it was kept in August 1293, when the peace had
been signed.
The Anziani, Tronci tells us[34], "were used, for a month before the
Festa, to publish it in the following manner. Twenty horses covered all
with scarlet, went out of the city bearing twenty youths dressed in
fanciful and rich costumes. The first two carried two banners, one of
the Comunità, the other of the Popolo. Two others carried two lances of
silver washed with gold, on which were the Imperial eagles. Two others
bore on their fists two living eagles crowned with gold. The rest
followed in a company, dressed in rich liveries. There came after, the
trumpeters of the Comunità with the silver trumpets, and others with
fifes and wind instruments of divers loudness, and they proclaimed the
_Palii_ which were to be won on land and water.
"On land, the first prize was of red velvet lined with fur, with a great
eagle of silver. This he received who first reached the goal. To the
second was given a silken stuff of the value of thirty gold florins, to
the third in jest was offered a pair of geese and a bunch of garlic. On
the water the race was rowed in little galleys and brigantini. He who
came in first won a Bull covered with scarlet, and fifty _scudi_; the
second a piece of silken stuff with thirty gold florins, the third got
only geese and garlic.
"On the first day of August were placed on the towers of the city,
certainly some 16,000 in number, three banners on each of them; one with
the Imperial eagle, another of the Commune, and the third of the People.
In like manner, on the cupola, façade, and corners of the Duomo, on S.
Giovanni, on the Campo Santo and the Campanile, these banners flew not
only on the top, but at all the angles of the columns. The same were
seen on all the churches of the city, and on all the palaces, the
Palazzo Pubblico, the Palace of the Podestà, the Palazzo del Capitano
del Conservatore, the Corte del Consulato di Mare, on the palaces of the
Mercati and of the seven Arti. The Contado followed the example of the
city; and thus it continued all the month of August. And the whole
people of every sort made great rejoicing and feasting, to which
foreigners were particularly invited.
"At the first Vespers of the Festa, the Anziani went to the Duomo in
state: and before them walked the maidens dressed in new costumes; and
after came the trumpeters, and the Captain with his company, and all the
other lesser magistrates. When they were come to the Cathedral, the
Archbishop, vested _a Pontificale_, began solemn Vespers. This ended, a
youth mounted into the pulpit and chanted a prayer in praise of the
Assumption of the Most Glorious Virgin. Then Matins was sung; and that
finished, the procession made its way round about the church, and was
joined by all the Companies and the Regulars, carrying each man a candle
of wax of half a pound weight, alight in his hands. The Clergy followed
with the Canons and the Archbishop with lighted candles of greater
weight; and last came the Anziani, the Podestà, the Captain and other
Magistrates, the Representatives of the Arti, and all the People with
lights of wax in their hands. And the procession being over, all went to
see the illuminations, the bonfires, and the festa, through the city.
"On the morning of the Festa, the _ceri_ were placed on the _trabacche_,
that were more than sixty in number, carried, by boys dressed in
liveries, with much pomp. Immediately after followed the Anziani, the
Podestà, and the Captain of the People with all the other Magistrates
and Officials and the people, with the Company of Horse richly dressed
and with the Companies of Foot; and a little after came all the _arti_,
carrying each one his great _cero_ all painted, and accompanied by all
the wind instruments. It was a thing sweet to hear and beautiful to see.
The offering made, they went out to bring the silver girdle[35] borne
with great pomp on a _carretta_; and there assisted all the clergy in
procession with exquisite music both of voices and of instruments. The
usual ceremonies being over, they encircled the Cathedral, and hung the
girdle to the irons that were set round about. Yes, it was this girdle
of a great value and very beautiful that was spoken of through the whole
world, so that from many a city of Italy people came in haste to see it;
but to-day there is nothing of it left save a small particle[36]."
Misfortune certainly had not broken the spirit of Pisa. And so it is not
surprising that, though she dared scarcely fly her flag on the seas, on
land she thought to hold her own. No doubt this hope was strengthened by
the advent in 1312 of Henry VII of Luxembourg. With him on her side she
dreamed of the domination of Tuscany. But it was not to be. She found
money and arms in his cause and her own. She opened a new war with the
Guelph League; she suspended her own Government and made him lord of
Pisa. He remained with her two months, and then in 1313 he died at
Buonconvento. They buried him sadly in the Duomo. The two million
florins she had expended were lost for ever. Frederick of Sicily,
Henry's ally, though he came to Pisa, refused the proferred lordship, as
did Henry of Savoy; and at last Pisa placed herself under the Imperial
Vicar of Genoa, for that city also had been delivered by her nobles into
the hands of Henry VII.
Uguccione della Faggiuola, the Imperial Vicar of Genoa, remained, as
Imperial legate, Podestà, Captain of the People, and Elector, bringing
with him one thousand German horse. The rest of the army of Henry
returned over the Alps. Pisa thought herself on the verge of ruin; she
must make terms with her foes. This being done, there appeared to be no
further need for Uguccione, whose German troops were expensive, and
whose presence did but anger the Guelphs. Uguccione was a man of
enormous strength, brave, too, and resolute, swift to decide an issue,
wise in council, but a barbarian. What had he to do with peace. His
business was war, as he very soon let the Pisans know. Nor were they
slow to take him at his word. Pisa was never beaten. Uguccione marched
through the streets with the living eagles of the Empire borne before
him. Before long he had deprived the Guelphs of power, and was
practically tyrant of Pisa. Everything now seemed to depend on victory.
Lucca scarcely ten miles away, Guelph by tradition and hatred of Pisa,
was in an uproar. Uguccione saw his chance and took it; he flung himself
on the city and delivered it up to its own factions while the Pisans
sacked it. Nor did they spare the place. The spoil was enormous; among
the rest, a large sum belonging to the Pope fell into their hands.
Florence and her allies sprang to arms. Uguccione took up the challenge,
burnt the lands of Pistoja and San Miniato al Tedesco, ravaged the
vineyards of Volterra, seized the fortresses of Val di Nievole, and at
last besieged Montecatini.
It was now that the Ghibellines of Lucca with Castruccio Castracani
joined Uguccione. They met the army of Florence at Montecatini.
Machiavelli states that Uguccione fell ill, and had no part in the
battle, which was won by Castruccio. Villari, however, gives the glory
to Uguccione.
It might seem that Uguccione, whether ill or not on the day of battle,
was jealous, and perhaps afraid, of Castruccio. Certainly he plotted
against him, sending his son Nerli to Lucca with orders to trap
Castruccio and imprison him; which was done. Nerli, however, wanted
resolution to kill him; and his father hearing this, set out from Pisa
with four hundred horse to take the matter in hand. The Pisans, who were
by this time completely enslaved by Uguccione, seized the opportunity to
rise. Macchiavelli tells us "they cut his Deputies' throats, and slew
all his Family. Now, that he might be sure they were in earnest, they
chose the Conte de Gherardesca, and made him their Governor." When
Uguccione got to Lucca he found the city in an uproar, and the people
demanding the release of Castruccio. This he was compelled to allow.
With Castruccio at liberty, Lucca was too hot for him, and he fled into
Lombardy to the Lords of Scala, where no long time after, he died.
After the great victory of Montecatini, Gherardesca and Castruccio soon
came to terms with the Guelphs; and all that Pisa really seems to have
gained by the war was that she was compelled to build a hospital and
chapel for the repose of the souls of the dead at Montecatini. This
chapel, hidden away in the Casa dei Trovatelli at the top of Via S.
Maria in Pisa, became a glorious monument of the victory of Pisa over
Florence.
But the freedom of Pisa was gone for ever; others, lords and tyrants,
arose, Castruccio Castracani and the rest, yet she was still at bay. On
the 2nd October 1325 she again defeated Florence at Altopascio, and even
excluded her from the port, and, in 1341, when Florence had bought Lucca
from Mastino della Scala for 250,000 florins, she besieged it to prevent
the entry of the Florentine army then aided by Milan, Mantova, and
Padova, In 1342, the Florentines having failed to relieve Lucca, the
Pisans entered the city. The possession of Lucca seemed to put Pisa,
where centuries ago Luitprand had placed her, at the head of the
province of Tuscany. This view, which certainly she herself was not slow
to take, was confirmed when Volterra and Pistoja placed themselves under
her protection; yet, as ever, her greatest danger was the discord within
her walls. The Republic was weak, nearly a million and a half of florins
had been spent on the war, and many tyrants were her allies; moreover,
she had lent troops to Milan.[37] It was this moment of reaction after
so great an effort that Visconti d'Oleggio chose for a conspiracy
against Gherardesca the Captain-General. It is true the plot was
discovered, the traitors exiled, and Visconti banished; but the mischief
was done. When Lucchino Visconti heard of it in Milan, he imprisoned the
Pisan troops in that city and sent Visconti d'Oleggio back with two
thousand men to seize Pisa. Thus the war dragged on; and though these
Milanese were destroyed for the most part by malaria in the Maremma,
still Pisa had no rest. After Visconti came famine, and after the famine
the Black Death. Seventy in every hundred of the population died, Tronci
tells us,[38] while during the famine, bread, such as it was, had to be
distributed every day at the taverns. Then followed a revolution in the
city. Count Raniero of the Gherardesca house had succeeded to the
Captain-Generalship of Pisa as though it were his right by birth. This
brought him many enemies; and, indeed, the city was in uproar for some
years: for, while he was so young, Dino della Rocca acted for him. Among
the more powerful enemies of della Rocca was Andrea Gambacorti, whose
family was soon to enslave the city. Now the one party was called
_Bergolini_, for they had named Raniero Bergo for hate, and of these
Gambacorti was chief. The other party which was at this time in power,
as I have said, was named _Raspanti_, which is to say graspers, and of
them Dino della Rocca was head. In the midst of this disputing Raniero
died, and the Raspanti were accused of having murdered him, among others
by Gambacorti. Every sort of device to heal these wounds was resorted
to; marriages and oaths all alike failed. The city blazed with their
arson every night, till at last the people rose and expelling the
Raspanti, chose Andrea Gambacorti for captain. This happened in 1348.
Seven years later, Charles IV, on his way to Rome to be crowned, came to
the city. Now the Conte di Montescudaio was known to Charles, who years
before had ruled in Lucca; therefore the Raspanti, of when Montescudaio
was one, took heart, and at the moment when Charles was in the Duomo
receiving the homage of the city, they roused the people assembled in
the Piazza, shouting for the Emperor and Liberty; but Charles heeded
them not. Nevertheless Gambacorti, to save himself, thought fit to give
Charles the lordship of the city; but the people, angered at this,
demanded their liberty, so that the magistrates, fearing for peace,
reconciled the two factions, who then together demanded of Charles his
new lordship. And he gave it them with as good a grace as he could, for
his men were few. Then again he heard from Lucca. There, too, they
demanded liberty, and especially from the dominion of Pisa, and, it is
said, the Lucchesi in France gave him 20,000 florins for this. But Pisa
heard of it. When Charles sent his troops to occupy Lucca, the Raspanti
saw their opportunity and rose. They put themselves at the head of the
people, who slew one hundred and fifty of Charles's Germans, and held
Charles himself a prisoner in the Duomo, where he lodged since the
Palazzo Comunale had been fired. Montescudaio, however, secretly joined
Charles with his men; he burnt the houses of the Gambacorti and
dispersed the mob. Apparently Lucca was free. But Charles had reckoned
without the Pisan garrison in the subject city. They fired their
beacons, and Pisa saw the blaze. It was enough, their dominion was in
danger; there were no longer any factions; Raspanti and Bergolini alike
stood together for Pisa. They streamed out of the great Porta a Lucca to
the relief of their own people, and though six thousand armed peasants
opposed them, they won to Lucca and took it, the Pisani still holding
the gates. Then they fired the city, and when the flames closed in round
S. Michele the Lucchesi surrendered. Thus they served their enemies. But
Charles had his revenge. He seized the Gambacorti, and appointing a
judge, having given instructions to find them guilty, tried them and
beheaded seven of them in Piazza degli Anziani, in spite of the rage of
Pisa. Then, with a large amount of treasure, of which he had spoiled the
Pisans, he fled back with his barbarians to his Germany. And as soon as
he was gone the city took Montescudaio and sent him into exile[39], with
the remaining Gambacorti also. So Charles left Pisa more Ghibelline than
he found her.
It was at this time that Pisa really began to see perhaps her true
danger from Florence. Certainly she did everything to prick her into
war. But Florence was already victorious. Her answer was more disastrous
than any battle; she took her trade from the port of Pisa to the Sienese
port Talamone. Then Florence purchased Volterra, over the head of Pisa
as it were; and at last, careless whether it pleased the Pisans or no,
she permitted the Gambacorti to make raid upon Pisan territory, and
allowed Giovanni di Sano, who had lately been in her service, to seize a
fortress in the territory of Lucca. The peace was broken. On the brink
of ruin, ravaged by plague, Pisa turned to confront her hard, merciless
foe. For months Florence ravaged her territory, while she, too weak to
strike a blow in her own honour, could but hold her gates. Then the
plague left her, and she rose.
Bernabò Visconti was sending her help for 150,000 florins.[40] The
English were on the way; already over the mountains, Hawkwood and his
White Company were coming to save her; meantime she tried to strike for
herself. Pietro Farnese of the Florentines laid her low, taking one
hundred and fifty prisoners and her general. The English tarried, but a
new ally was already by her side. The Black Death which had brought down
her pride, now fell upon the enemy, both in camp and in their city of
the Lily: and then--the English were come. On the 1st of February 1364,
Hawkwood, with a thousand horse and two thousand foot, drove the
Florentines through the Val di Nievole; he harried them above Vinci and
chased them through Serravalle, crushed them at Castel di Montale, and
scattered them in the valley of Arno. They found their city at last, as
foxes find their holes, and went to earth. There Pisa halted. Before the
gates of Pisa the Florentines for years had struck money: so the Pisans
did before Florence. Nor was this all. Halting there three days, says
the chronicle,[41] "they caused three palii to be run well-nigh to the
gates of Florence. One was on horseback, another was on foot, and the
third was run by loose women (_le feminine mundane_); and they caused
newly-made priests to sing Mass there, and they coined money of divers
kinds of gold and of silver; and on one side thereof was Our Lady, with
Her Son in Her arms; on the other side was the Eagle, with the Lion
beneath its feet.... Thereafter for further dispite they set up a pair
of gallows over against the gate of Florence, and hanged thereon three
asses."
Florence refused to submit. Other Free Companies such as Hawkwood's
joined in the war. The Florentines hired that of the Star. But Hawkwood
was not to be denied. He marched up Arno, devastating the country, and
at last deigned to return to Pisa by Cortona and Siena.
Then Florence did what might have been expected. She bribed Baumgarten,
who with his Germans had fought since the rout with Hawkwood. They met
at the Borgo di Cascina on 28th July. Hawkwood was caught napping, and
Pisa in her turn was humbled. The Florentines returned with two thousand
prisoners, having slain a thousand men. They took with them "forty-two
wagons full of prisoners, all packed together 'like melons,' with a dead
eagle tied by the neck and dragging along the ground."[42] Such was war
in Italy in the fourteenth century.
Then followed the Doge Agnello: the greatness of Pisa was past.
It had ever been the plan of Milan to weaken Florence by aiding Pisa,
and to weaken Pisa by this continual war, for it was the Visconti's
dream to carry their dominion into Tuscany. Now at this time, amid all
these disasters, the Pisan ambassador at Milan was a certain Giovanni
dell' Agnello, a merchant, ambitious but without honour. This plebeian
readily lent himself to the Visconti to betray the city, if thereby he
might win power; and this Visconti promised him, for, said he, "if I win
Pisa, you shall be my lieutenant, and all the world will take you even
for my ally."
Agnello went back to Pisa full of this dream:[43] and at the first
opportunity suggested that Visconti would be flattered if a Lord were
to be elected in Pisa, if only for a year at a time; and in his subtilty
he proposed Pietro d' Albizzo da Vico, a very much respected (_di gran
stima_) citizen, as Lord. But Messer Pietro replied by asking to be sent
with other citizens to Pescia to arrange the peace with Florence. Then a
certain Vanni Botticella applied for the post; and Agnello praised him
for his patriotism, but asked him whether he had money enough to be
Lord. Certainly Pisa had fallen. By this Agnello was suspected, and
indeed one night certain citizens got leave to search his house, for
they believed him to be a traitor[44]. But he had warning, and already
Hawkwood had sold himself, for it was his business. So, when those
citizens had returned disappointed, for they found Agnello abed, he
arose and joined his bandits. With Hawkwood he went to the Palazzo dei
Anziani, bound the guard and had the Elders summoned, and told them a
tale of how the Blessed Virgin had bidden him assume the lordship of the
city. Well, he had his way, his bandits saw to that; so the Anziani
agreed and swore obedience. Next day Pisa acclaimed her Doge.
Agnello remained Doge, or Lord as he preferred to be called, for four
years. Then Charles IV marched back over the Alps into Italy. Bought off
and thwarted in Lombardy, he came towards Lucca, which the Lucchesi
exiles again offered to buy from him. Agnello was terrified. In haste he
sent to Charles offering to give him Lucca if he were made sure in Pisa.
Outside the walls of Lucca, Charles knighted this astute tradesman.
Agnello ran back to Pisa and conferred knighthood on his nephews. Then
he built a platform and awaited the Emperor. His end was in keeping with
his life. As he stood on the insecure "hustings" which he had built,
that in sight of all the people Charles might declare him Imperial Vicar
of Pisa, the platform collapsed and Agnello's leg was broken. Now,
whether the comic spirit, so helpful to justice, be strong in our Pisans
still, I know not, but on learning of the misfortune of their Lord, they
rose, and, without noticing their Imperial Vicar, appointed Anziani to
rule by the old laws.
Then the burghers and nobles--"Cittadini amatori della Patria," Tronci
calls them--formed the Campagnia di S. Michele, for it bore on its
gonfalon St. Michael Archangel, and the black eagle of the Empire. It
was the business of this company to restore peace and unity to the city.
The leaders resolved to recall the exiles, among them Pietro Gambacorti.
He came, and the city greeted him, and he swore to serve the Republic
and to forgive his enemies. A riot followed; the Bergolini armed
themselves and burnt the Gambacorti palaces. But Pietro Gambacorti
called to the city, which had risen to defend itself and to make
reprisals, saying, "I have pardoned them--I, whose parents they slew. By
what right do you refuse to do what I have done?"[45] The Bergolini took
the government, and there was peace. Then the Campagnia di S. Michele
broke up.
Not for long, however, could there be peace in Pisa. The Raspanti still
held one of the gates; and thinking to better themselves, they sent an
embassy to Charles, who was in Lucca, asking his help. He imprisoned the
embassy, and at once sent his Germans to seize the city. But the Pisans
heard of it. They rang the great bells in the Campanile, and barricaded
the gates with the benches and stalls in the Duomo, on the Baptistery
they set their bowmen, and on the Campanile the slingers. Then they tore
up the streets, and waited to give death for death. The Germans,
however, were easily beaten and bought off, and Pisa again returned to
her internal quarrels.
Out of these sprang, in 1385, Pietro Gambacorti, as Captain of the
people. It was the beginning of the last twenty years of Pisa's life as
an independent city. She now stood between Visconti in the north and
Florence close at hand. Florence was her friend against Visconti for
her own sake: she meant to have Pisa herself. Gambacorti did his best.
With infinite tact he kept friends with both cities. Under him Pisa
seemed to regain something of her old confidence and prosperity. A man
of fine courage, simplicity, and passing honest, he was incapable of
suspecting a tried friend whom he had benefited. Yet it was by the hand
of such an one he fell.
Jacopo d'Appiano's father had been exiled with Gambacorti in 1348. Like
many another Pisan house which had risen from nothing, Appiano was at
feud with certain of his fellow-citizens, among them the Lanfranchi
family. For this cause he kept a guard about him. Now Gambacorti, who
remembered his father's exile, made Appiano permanent "Chancellor of the
Republic": and hoping to reconcile the Lanfranchi with the new
chancellor, he sent for Lanfranchi, but the bandits of Appiano murdered
him as he went thither, and then joined Appiano in his house. Gambacorti
ordered his chancellor to deliver them up, but he refused. Then the
Bergolini offered Gambacorti their assistance, but he refused it,
trusting to justice. Appiano, however, at the head of the Raspanti,
marched to the palace of Gambacorti. The city was in arms, and they had
to fight their way. Arrived before the palace, Gambacorti ordering his
men not to shoot his friend, agreed to confer with Appiano. So he went
out of his house, and as Appiano stretched out his hand, in token, as it
were, of friendship, his bandits fell upon him and slew him. A fight
followed, in which the Bergolini were beaten; then Appiano became
Captain of the People. In truth, it was only a device of Visconti for
seizing the city. Appiano admitted the Milanese, and what Agnello had
failed to do, he did, for he ruled as the creature of Gian Galeazzo. But
there is no honour among thieves. Soon Visconti, hoping to win Pisa all
for himself, plotted against Appiano. The quarrel went on, Appiano
fearing to make treaty with Florence lest he should fall, and fearing,
too, to decide with Visconti lest he should be murdered, till he died,
and his son became Captain, only to sell Pisa to Visconti for 200,000
florins, with Elba also, and many castles.[46] Then Gian Galeazzo died
in 1404.
Now Florence knew that in the confusion which followed the death of the
great Visconti, Pisa was weak and almost without defence, so without
hesitation she sent an army to seize the city: but Pisa, always at her
best in danger, worked night and day, nor was any man idle in building
fortifications. In Genoa the Frenchman Boucicault, who had held that
city, came to her assistance, for the last thing Genoa or Milan desired
was to see Pisa and her port in the hands of Florence. Boucicault
imprisoned all the Florentines in Genoa, and seized Livorno, nor would
he agree to release his prisoners till Florence had signed a four years'
peace. But Pisa soon wearied of this. In the grip of Genoa, fearing
Visconti, unable to save herself, she revolted, and Boucicault sold her
to Florence, for he had to defend himself in Genoa. It was in August
1405 that Pisa was given up to Florence, but although for a moment
Florence then held the city, she was to fight for it in earnest before
she could hold it for good. As yet she only possessed the citadel, and
by a ruse the Pisans managed to win that from her: then they sent to
Florence to negotiate. They offered to buy their freedom, but Florence
was obdurate. She was determined to possess herself of Pisa; her armies
were ordered to advance.
Pisa was ready. At that moment all feuds were forgotten; a united city
opposed the Florentines: there was but one way to take it--by famine.
And it was thus at last, on 9th October 1406, Pisa fell. Preferring to
die rather than to surrender, it would have been into a city of the dead
that the armies of Florence would have marched, but for the brutal
treachery of Giovanni Gambacorti. As it was, it was only a city of the
dying that Florence occupied. After every kind of heroic effort,
Giovanni Gambacorti sold Pisa when she was too weak to fight, save
against a declared enemy, for 50,000 florins, the citizenship of
Florence and Borgo to rule. He opened the gates, and Florence streamed
in. There was scarcely a crust left in the city which was at last
become the vassal of Florence.
Here, truly, the chronicles of Pisa end--in the horrid cruelty, scorn,
and disdain so characteristic of the Florentine. Certainly with the
Medici a more humane government was adopted, so that in 1472 we read of
Lorenzo Magnifico restoring the University to something of its old
splendour, but nothing he could do was able to extinguish the undying
hatred of Pisa for those who had stolen away her liberty. In 1494 that
carnival army of Charles VIII, winding through the valleys and over the
mountains, seemed to offer them a hope of freedom. They welcomed him
with every sort of joy, and hurled the Marzocco and the Gonfalon of
Florence into Arno, all to no purpose. And truly without hope, from 1479
to 1505, they bore heroically three sieges and flung back three
different armies of Florence. Soderini and Macchiavelli urged on the
war. In 1509, Macchiavelli, that mysterious great man, besieged her on
three sides, and at last, forced by hunger and famine, Pisa admitted him
on the 8th June. It was her last fight for liberty. But she had won for
herself the respect of her enemies. A more humane and moderate policy
was adopted in dealing with her. Nevertheless, as in 1406, so now, her
citizens fled away, so that there was scarcely left a Pisan in Pisa for
the victor to rule.
Grand Duke Cosimo seems to have loved her. It was there he founded his
Order of the Knights of St. Stephen to harry the pirates in the
Mediterranean. Still she was a power on the sea, though in the service
of another. And though dead, she yet lived, for she is of those who
cannot die. The ever-glorious name of Galileo Galilei crowns her
immortality. Born within her walls, he taught at her University, and his
first experiments in the knowledge of the law of gravity were made from
her bell-tower, while, as it is said, the great lamp of her Duomo taught
him the secret of the pendulum.
Looking on her to-day, remembering her immortal story, one thinks only
of the beauty that is from of old secure in silence on that meadow among
the daisies just within her walls.