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Transcribers' note:
Text enclosed by underscores is in italics (_italics_).
A carat character is used to denote superscription.
Superscripted characters are enclosed by curly brackets
(example: CC^{o}).
Chapter IX does not have a section VII. This appears to
be a misprint, not missing text.
THE TWO FIRST CENTURIES OF FLORENTINE HISTORY
* * * * * *
BY THE SAME AUTHOR
THE LIFE AND TIMES OF GIROLAMO SAVONAROLA.
Fully Illustrated. Large crown 8vo, cloth, 2_s._ 6_d._ _net_.
THE LIFE AND TIMES OF NICCOLÒ MACHIAVELLI.
With Photogravure Frontispiece. Large crown 8vo, cloth, 2_s._
6_d._ _net_.
THE BARBARIAN INVASIONS OF ITALY.
With Frontispiece and Maps. Two vols. Demy 8vo, cloth, 32_s_.
STUDIES HISTORICAL AND CRITICAL.
With Seven Photogravure Plates. Demy 8vo, cloth, 15_s._ _net_.
LONDON: T. FISHER UNWIN.
* * * * * *
[Illustration: THE MERCATO VECCHIO BEFORE ITS DEMOLITION.]
THE TWO FIRST CENTURIES OF FLORENTINE HISTORY
The Republic and Parties at the Time of Dante
by
PROFESSOR PASQUALE VILLARI
Translated by Linda Villari
FOURTH IMPRESSION
Illustrated
London
T. Fisher Unwin
1 Adelphi Terrace
1908
AUTHOR'S PREFACE TO THE ENGLISH VERSION.
_Before deciding to issue this translation I had first to reflect
whether my Florentine studies could be of any use to the English
public. Since Roscoe's day English literature has been enriched
by works of much importance on different phases of the political,
literary, and artistic history of Florence. Both Napier and Trollope
have bequeathed very complete narratives of Florentine events, and
translations of notable foreign works have also been produced. But
nearly all these works appeared before any scientific research as to
the origin of the City and Commonwealth had begun, or, at least, before
it had reached the results I have briefly expounded, and which deserve
notice, not only on the score of intrinsic worth, but also because they
throw new light on the subsequent history of Florence._
_To attempt any new delineation of the special vicissitudes of the
Florentine Republic, already so exhaustively and lucidly treated by
other historians, would have been outside my purpose. As stated in
the preface to the Italian edition, my sole aim was to investigate in
what manner the Republic was formed, the nature of its constitution,
the why and wherefore of its continual transmutations, the first
causes and genuine motives of the factions by which the city was torn,
and likewise to ascertain how it came about that--despite all this
turbulence and strife--commerce and industry, the fine arts and letters
should have been able to achieve such marvellous results. Now, so far
as I know, English literature contains nothing on this particular
theme, although one that can scarcely fail to be of some use and
interest even to readers familiar with greater works and more extended
and detailed accounts of Florentine history._
_These researches are not pursued beyond the times of Dante and Henry
VII., inasmuch as that term actually marks the close of the period
during which the Republic took shape and built up its constitution.
This was followed by a new phase of equally high importance but very
different character, during which the Republic entered, instead, on a
course of decomposition. In fact, we have only to draw a comparison
between the "Divine Comedy" and the "Decameron," to instantly perceive
how deep was the change a few years had wrought in the spirit of
Florence and of all Italy. These two works were almost contemporaneous,
yet when reading them they seem to us the product of two entirely
different ages. Whether in politics, religion, morals, or letters, the
character of these two periods is seen to be essentially diverse. The
Middle Ages, with all their rough primitive originality, have come to
an end; classic learning and the Renaissance have begun. Touching this
second period, there is no scarcity of information, documents, or
chroniclers, as in the case of the first. The historian is confronted
by totally novel problems to which numerous modern writers have given
their attention, and which have also been investigated in previous
works of my own._
_Even this second period would certainly afford matter for another work
on the gradual course of political and moral dissolution, during which
art and literature blossomed to new splendour. Such investigations,
however, would transport me beyond the limits I have set to this book.
Under what conditions and amid what difficulties these researches were
begun and carried forward has been already plainly told in my preface
to the Italian edition. It only remains for me to crave the indulgence
of English readers._
_PASQUALE VILLARI._
AUTHOR'S PREFACE.
A word of explanation is due to my readers touching the genesis of the
present work.
In 1866 I began a course of lectures at our Istituto Superiore on
the History of Florence, chiefly for the purpose of examining the
political constitution of the Republic, and investigating the various
transformations it had undergone during the long series of internal
revolutions by which the city was harassed. In this way I hoped to
ascertain the veritable causes of those revolutions, to discover some
leading thread through the mazes of Florentine history, which even when
treated by great writers has often been found exceedingly involved and
obscure, and likewise to determine the most logical mode of arranging
it in periods. Even a partial solution of these problems would have
been of some use. I continued the lectures for a considerable time,
but suspended them on reaching the period of Giano della Bella's
"Decrees of Justice" (_Ordinamenti di Giustizia_), 1293. Some of these
discourses were published in the Milan _Politecnico_, others in the
_Nuova Antologia_ at Florence. It was then my intention to collect them
in a volume; but after some hesitation I renounced the idea. It seemed
indispensable to at least add some outline of the course of events
subsequent to the fall of Giano della Bella and the exile of Dante, in
order to conclude the first and most important period of the political
history of Florence. Besides, I saw that the necessity of continuing
these lectures on fixed days had not always allowed sufficient time for
overcoming obstacles encountered by the way. Accordingly, more than a
superficial revisal was required; gaps had to be filled in, certain
pages re-written. Hence fresh researches were demanded, for which other
labours granted no leisure at the moment.
Meanwhile new documents, new dissertations, and monographs on
Florentine history were continually appearing, besides notable works on
a larger scale such as those of Capponi, Del Lungo, Hartwig, Perrens,
&c. All this increased the difficulty of revising and correcting
lectures, now lapsing inevitably more and more out of date. On the
other hand I sometimes found previous deductions confirmed by recently
discovered documents, and that certain general ideas I had enounced
were accepted and followed by writers of note. This naturally inclined
me to be less severe in judging my work, and more disposed to listen to
the tried friends who were urging its republication.
Being thus encouraged to resume my forsaken studies, I lectured in 1888
on the times of Henry VII. of Germany and the exile of Dante. Later
on, in 1890, recognising that my previous work on the origins of the
city and its commonwealth had become altogether inadequate since the
appearance of so much new material, I returned to the subject in a
fresh course of lectures, which likewise saw the light in the _Nuova
Antologia_. Then, I finally began to put the scattered papers together
to revise and correct them.
Hence it will be plainly seen that this book is composed of various
separate parts which, although informed, one and all, by the same
leading idea and treating of the same argument, were produced at
distant intervals during a quarter of a century, in which the study
of Florentine history had made rapid advance through the labours of
numerous and competent writers. Therefore, in spite of devoting my best
efforts to pruning, revising, and arranging my lectures, they are still
old essays more or less disjointed, and containing many unavoidable
repetitions. Greater organic unity could only have been attained by
re-writing the whole and composing a new book; whereas my intention
was merely to republish a series of scattered compositions, under the
fitting title of "Researches."
What finally decided me to reprint them was, that, as I venture to
think, their dominant and fundamental notes still ring true, even
after the numerous works produced by other hands. Indeed, unless I be
mistaken, those works frequently support my observations, and confirm
the ideas expressed throughout on the general character and progressive
development of Florentine history. Whether I be right or wrong in this
belief the reader must decide. At any rate I venture to hope that,
in judging this book, he will kindly make allowance for the time and
manner in which it came into existence.
CONTENTS.
PAGE
INTRODUCTION 1
CHAPTER I.
THE ORIGIN OF FLORENCE 38
CHAPTER II.
THE ORIGIN OF THE FLORENTINE COMMUNE 80
CHAPTER III.
THE FIRST WARS AND FIRST REFORMS OF THE FLORENTINE COMMUNE 131
CHAPTER IV.
STATE OF PARTIES--CONSTITUTION OF THE FIRST POPULAR
GOVERNMENT AND OF THE GREATER GUILDS IN FLORENCE 173
CHAPTER V.
FLORENCE THE DOMINANT POWER IN TUSCANY 240
CHAPTER VI.
THE COMMERCIAL INTERESTS AND POLICY OF THE GREATER GUILDS
IN FLORENCE 310
CHAPTER VII.
THE FAMILY AND THE STATE IN ITALIAN COMMUNES 360
CHAPTER VIII.
THE ENACTMENTS OF JUSTICE 431
CHAPTER IX.
THE FLORENTINE REPUBLIC IN DANTE'S TIME 484
CHAPTER X.
DANTE, FLORENTINE EXILES AND HENRY VII. 521
ILLUSTRATIONS.
THE MERCATO VECCHIO, BEFORE ITS DEMOLITION _Frontispiece._
_To face page_
VARIOUS REMAINS DISCOVERED IN THE MERCATO VECCHIO, NOW
IN THE ETRUSCAN MUSEUM, FLORENCE 1
THE ARNO RIVER-GOD. BAS-RELIEF. ETRUSCAN MUSEUM 39
ETRUSCAN TOMBSTONES, FROM THE MERCATO VECCHIO 55
SITE OF ROMAN VILLA, NEAR SAN ANDREA, FLORENCE 57
PAVEMENT OF A ROMAN HOUSE, WITH IMPLUVIUM, FOUND UNDER
THE MERCATO VECCHIO 59
MOSAIC PAVEMENT OF A _SALA DELLE TERME_ 59
PISCINA FRIGIDARIA, WITH CONNECTED CHILDREN'S BATHS, FOUND
NEAR THE CAMPIDOGLIO 66
ATTACK ON THE MONKS OF SAN SALVI. BAS-RELIEF BY BENEDETTO
DA ROVEZZANO; NATIONAL MUSEUM, FLORENCE 74
MIRACLE OF SAN GIOVANNI GUALBERTO (EXORCISING A DEVIL).
BAS-RELIEF BY BENEDETTO DA ROVEZZANO 78
A ROMAN HYPOCAUST, PARTLY RECONSTRUCTED 85
EXTERIOR VIEW OF THE CALIDARIUM AND FURNACE 85
DESCENT TO A ROMAN WELL; DISCOVERED BENEATH THE
CAMPIDOGLIO, FLORENCE 89
ROMAN CALIDARIUM, WITH FURNACE BENEATH; FLORENCE 93
IMPLUVIUM OF A ROMAN HOUSE; FLORENCE 93
MOUTH OF ROMAN FURNACE (MERCATO VECCHIO) 96
CALIDARIUM (_ibidem_) 96
BELFRY OF SAN ANDREA, MERCATO VECCHIO, FLORENCE 130
PALACE OF THE PODESTÀ, FLORENCE 192
PALAZZO VECCHIO, FLORENCE 241
SUPPOSED PALACE OF THEODORIC IN RAVENNA 383
THE TOMB OF THEODORIC, RAVENNA 384
ANCIENT SHRINE, RAVENNA 388
CHURCH OF SAN VITALE, RAVENNA 401
EMPEROR JUSTINIAN 403
EMPRESS THEODORA AND COURT, RAVENNA 404
SCENE IN CORN MARKET, FLORENCE 475
RIOT IN CORN MARKET, FLORENCE 476
[Illustration]
[Illustration: VARIOUS REMAINS DISCOVERED IN THE MERCATO VECCHIO OF
FLORENCE.
(_Now in the Etruscan Museum._)
[_To face page 1._]
INTRODUCTION.[1]
I.
The history of Italian freedom, from the Middle Ages to the new series
of foreign invasions, dating from the descent of Charles VIII. in
1494, mainly consists of the history of our communes. But this history
is as yet unwritten, and, worse still, can never be written until
the material required for the task shall have been brought to light,
sifted, and illustrated. What were the most ancient political statutes,
what those of the guilds of art and commerce, what the penal and civil
laws, the individual conditions, revenue, expenditure, trade, and
industry of those republics? To all these questions we can give but
imperfect replies at the best, and some are left altogether unsolved.
Yet until all are decided the civil history of our communes remains
involved in obscurity.
Through Machiavelli and Giannone Italy gave the world the first
essays in constitutional history, and by Muratori's gigantic labours
inaugurated the great school of learning that is the only settled
basis of modern and, more especially, of constitutional history.
But we soon allowed the sceptre we had won to be snatched from our
grasp. It is true that we have never experienced any dearth of great
scholars or historians, but the complete national history of a people
is a task exceeding the powers of one or of several individuals. Such
history must be produced, as it were, by the nation itself. Only the
combined efforts of many scholars and of many generations can succeed
in co-ordinating and investigating the vast mass of material that has
to be ransacked in order to trace through the vicissitudes of numerous
municipalities, all differing from, and at war with one another, the
history of the Italian people. It has been long the custom with us for
every one to work independently: hence we lack the spirit of agreement
and co-operation required to enable individual efforts to carry forward
the work of the whole country at the same pace. Certainly, however, I
must not forget to note the example of our various national historical
societies, subsidised by the Government, and composed of most learned
and deserving men. But these associations and commissions have as
yet no general nor united plan of work; and, in fact, some of their
members are apt to devote their energies to labours which, however
important, are disconnected from the main object. Thus there will be
much delay before our learned men complete the investigation of any
one period of our history. Yet the rules which should be followed are
not far to seek, since Italians were the first to discover them, and
we still bear them in mind. Nor has the issue of highly important
collections of documents been relegated exclusively to our societies
and commissions. None can have forgotten the untiring labours of the
worthy Vieusseux and his friends in their management of the "Archivio
Storico Italiano"! To show what excellent results may be achieved by
the publication of a single series of State papers, it is sufficient to
mention the Despatches (_Relazioni_) of Venetian Ambassadors, given to
the world by Alberi, and whereby not only Italian but European history
has been so greatly profited. What progress might not be made would all
Italian scholars consent to devote their labours to a common end! We
have seen how much Professor Pertz was enabled to achieve at Berlin,
with a subsidy from the Confederation, and aided by all the scholars
of Germany. Truly, his "Monumenta" form an enduring memorial of the
national history of the Fatherland, and has become the nucleus of a new
school of scholars and historians.
Now that Italy is united, and her many states fused into one, she
should know the history of her communes, and trace out the history of
her people. It should also be kept in view that the Commune was the
institution by whose means modern society was evolved from the Middle
Ages. Rising in the midst of a throng of slaves, vassals, barons,
marquises, dukes, the Commune gave birth to the _third estate_ and the
people which, after first destroying feudalism in Italy, subsequently
by the French Revolution, destroyed it throughout Europe. Even Augustin
Thierry notes that "thus was formed the immense congregation of free
men who in 1789 undertook for all France that which had been achieved
by their forefathers in mediæval municipalities."[2] Accordingly,
since Italy was the centre and seat of municipal liberty, the purpose
of the present work is not only to investigate our civil history,
but to demonstrate how much we contributed to the discovery of the
principles of modern society and civilisation. All careful students
of the history of Roman law in the Middle Ages will have occasion to
remark that our commentators while reviewing ancient jurisprudence,
unconsciously modified it in adapting it to their own times. Francesco
Forti has declared that no student of our statutes can fail to perceive
that many of the regulations found in the Napoleon Code, and supposed
to be created by the French Revolution, already formed part of the
old Italian law. I have come to the conclusion that in every branch
of Italian civil life our history will be able to prove that the same
remark holds good, inasmuch as our civil institutions contained the
primary germs of modern freedom. But no one has yet dared to attempt
this task, and, as I said before, no single strength could suffice for
it. We have now to deal with a far humbler theme. By tracing in bold
outline the history of a single commune, we desire to show what fresh
researches remain to be made, and how many problems to be solved.
The vicissitudes of the Florentine Republic can only be paralleled
with those of the most flourishing periods of Athenian freedom.
Throughout modern history we might seek in vain the example of another
city simultaneously so turbulent and prosperous, where, despite so
much internecine carnage, fine arts, letters, commerce, and industry,
all flourished equally. The historian almost doubts his own veracity
when bound to recount how a handful of men settled on a small spot of
earth, extended their trade to the East and the West; establishing
banks throughout Europe; and accumulated such vast wealth, that private
fortunes sometimes sufficed to support tottering thrones. He has also
to relate how these rich merchants founded modern poetry with their
Dante, painting with their Giotto; how with the aid of their Arnolfo
and Brunellesco, and of their Michelangelo, who was poet, painter,
sculptor, and architect in one, they raised the stupendous buildings
which the world will lastingly admire. The first and subtlest of
European diplomatists were Florentines; political science and civil
history were born in Florence with Machiavelli. Towards the end of the
Middle Ages this narrow township seems a small point of fire shedding
light over the whole world.
It might well be thought that all difficulties regarding the history
of this commune must have been already overcome, seeing that the
finest Italian writers, the greatest modern historians, have for
so long made it the theme of extended labours. In fact, what other
city can boast annals penned by such men as Villani, Compagni,
Machiavelli, Guicciardini, Nardi, Varchi? And, in addition to histories
and chronicles, we find an endless string of Diaries, _Prioristi_
(Notebooks), Reminiscences, before coming down to modern writers.
Among the Florentines it was a very common practice to keep a daily
register of events, and in this wise their splendid store of historic
literature was continually enlarged. But, nevertheless, no history
bristles with so many difficulties as that of Florence, nor offers so
many apparently insurmountable contradictions. Events pass before our
eyes, well described, vividly coloured; they flit past in a rapid and
uninterrupted whirl, never resting, subject to no law, and seemingly
obedient to chance alone. Personal hatred, jealousy, and private
revenge produce political revolutions, drenching the city with the
blood of its children. These revolutions endure for months, perhaps
even for years, and end with arbitrary decrees, which are violated or
undone the moment they have received magisterial sanction. Thus we
are often moved to inquire, How can this be the work of far-seeing
diplomats, of great politicians? Either lofty commendations for
political good sense and acuteness were falsely lavished on men
incapable of giving their country sound laws and stable institutions,
and who in the gravest affairs of State were solely influenced by
personal loves and hates; or else for centuries past we have accorded
unmerited praise to the historians who have described impossible events
to us in the most vivid colours. In fact, how could it possibly be that
so much good sense should breed so much disorder? How, too, in the
midst of this disorder, with the vessel of the State at the mercy of
every wind that blew, could art, science, and literature give forth so
glorious a harvest?
Undoubtedly history, as we interpret it to-day, was unknown to the
ancients. We seek the causes of events, whereas they merely described
them. We wish to know the laws, manners, ideas, and prejudices of
mankind, whereas our forefathers were exclusively concerned with human
passions and actions. In the fifteenth century political science was
chiefly a study of human nature, while at this day it is mainly a study
of institutions. Modern history aims at the examination of mankind and
society in every form, and from every point of view. That is why we
have had to so often re-fashion the work that, nevertheless, had been
splendidly performed by writers of old.
Leaving aside all compilers of those fables and legends on the origin
of Florence found repeated in even later works, Florentine historians
may be divided into two great schools. First come the authors of
Chronicles or Diaries, who flourished chiefly in the fourteenth
century, although they continued long after that period. These writers
record day by day the events they have witnessed and in which they have
often taken part; stirred by the very passions they describe, they
sometimes rise to eloquence, and the heat of their own words leaves
them no time to dwell on abstract ideas. They presuppose in their
readers their own detailed knowledge of the political institutions
among which their lives were spent, but which are unknown to us,
and the object of our keenest desire. Frequently, however, some
fourteenth-century chronicler, such as Giovanni Villani, with his
incomparable gift of observation, supplies such minute descriptions
of events, reports so many details, that, almost unawares, we find
ourselves carried back to his day. Sometimes, when descending to
particulars, he apologises for detaining the reader on topics of
small moment, little foreseeing what value we later generations would
attach to all those details of the trade, instruction, revenue, and
expenditure of the Republic, or how we should long for more facts of
the same kind. But as soon as these writers touch upon times and events
outside their own experience, they have either to copy verbatim from
other chroniclers, or their narratives remain cold, colourless, and
devoid of merit or authority. We pass at once from the most lively and
graphic descriptions to the strangest fables, the greatest incoherence,
since these men are incapable of using any discernment even in copying
literally from others. Proofs of this are seen in their puerile
accounts of the foundation of Florence. Historical criticism was as yet
unborn.
The scholarship of the fifteenth century gave rise to the study and
imitation of Sallust and Livy; and Italian writers were no longer
content to register facts from day to day, unconnectedly and without
order. Many wrote in Latin, others in Italian; but all sought to
compose historical narratives in a more artistic, or at all events,
more artificial way. They launched into exordiums and general
considerations; gave lengthy descriptions, eked out by many flights of
fancy, of wars they had never witnessed, and of which they knew little
or nothing; they attributed imaginary speeches to their personages,
and sometimes fashioned their narratives in the shape of dialogues, to
increase the distance between themselves and their fourteenth-century
predecessors.[3]
It was a period of rhetorical essays and servile imitations of the
classics, during which Italian history and literature declined,
although preparing for revival in the coming age. In fact, we find the
art of history notably advanced in the sixteenth century. Machiavelli,
who may be styled the most illustrious founder of that art, begins with
a word of blame to preceding historians exactly because "they had said
little or nothing of civil discords, or of existing internal enmities
and their effects, and described other matters with a brevity that
could be neither useful nor pleasing to the reader." Indirectly, these
words serve as a faithful portrait of the book that has proved the
most lasting monument to his own fame. He inquires into the causes of
events, the origin of all the parties and revolutions of the Republic;
thus creating a new method and opening a new road. He reduces the
whole history of the Commonwealth into an admirable unity; he rejects
with profound contempt the fabulous tales bequeathed by the chronicler
regarding the foundation of Florence, and throws an eagle glance on
party manoeuvres from their origin down to his own day. He was the
first to undertake these researches, and, notwithstanding all newer
investigations, his fundamental idea maintains its value.
But Machiavelli gave little heed to institutions, scarcely any at all
to laws and customs. Furthermore, he was so entirely guided by his
instinct of divination as to care little for the historic exactitude
of particular facts. To ascertain the infinite number of inaccuracies
and blunders contained in his book, and which would be unpardonable in
a modern writer, his narrative must be compared with the contemporary
accounts of the old chroniclers, some of which were known to him. Not
only are there frequent errors of date, but also of the names and
number of magistrates and of the framework of institutions. It would
seem that while divining the spirit of events, he simultaneously
remoulded them according to his own fancy. Sometimes we find him
appropriating entire pages from Cavalcanti's history, even transcribing
the fictitious speeches attributed by that chronicler to historic
characters, and by a few touches of his own pouring new life into the
dull narrative without troubling to undertake any fresh research. Thus,
his book, although a valuable guide, is also an unsafe one. He cannot
always abstain from transplanting a true fact to the place best suited
to his own theories, thus filling up inconvenient gaps without many
scruples of conscience. His aim, so he tells us, was to investigate
the causes of parties and revolutions. What is now designated as local
colour--_i.e._, the historic colour of facts--is entirely absent from
his narrative, and particularly from that of the earlier days of the
Republic. Men adhere to different factions, sometimes commit evil,
sometimes generous deeds, but are apparently always the same in his
eyes. To what extent the clear appreciation of events is hampered by
this theory may easily be imagined. Then, too, as Machiavelli draws
nearer to his own times, he sees the constitution of the Republic
changing and decaying, freedom disappearing, and a thousand personal
passions arising to hasten the overthrow of enfeebled institutions.
A knowledge of minute particulars would be doubly desirable at this
period to make us understand the social revolution in question; but
Machiavelli, though always a fifteenth-century Florentine, never
lost sight of the example of Titus Livy and other Roman writers, and
consequently, like all the scholars of his age, was inspired with a
lofty contempt for any small details apt to endanger the epic unity
of historic narrative. Then, later on, in approaching the distinct
domination of the Medici, under whose rule he was living, he turns
aside with ill-concealed disgust from the internal vicissitudes of
the Republic and gives his whole attention to external events. He
then discourses of warfare and of the Italian policy that was the
passion of his life. In the midst of court intrigues and the contested
predominance of this or that party, we find him chiefly concerned in
ascertaining how a new prince might best reunite the scattered members
of his torn and oppressed motherland; and note that this noble design
frequently makes him forget the history of Florence.
In reading old chronicles of contemporary events, we see before our
eyes the living, speaking figures of Giano della Bella, Farinata degli
Uberti, Corso Donati, and Michele di Lando. Their feelings, loves,
and hates are known and almost familiar to us; but we are plunged in
a restless, unrestrained tumult of passions, without knowing whence
blows the blast driving men and things onward in a whirl of confusion,
without one moment's truce. No sooner do we pass beyond the visual
horizon of the writer, than all images become confused, and our sight
is no less obscured than his own. Even at moments of most eloquent
description we hear of institutions and magistrates conveying no
meaning to our ears, and often see these change, disappear, and return
without grasping the why and wherefore. But when, on the other hand,
by the study and imitation of ancient authors, the art of embracing a
vaster circle of facts springs into being, and the causes and relations
of those facts are investigated in order to weld them into visible
unity, historic criticism is still lacking to verify events, to examine
and define laws and institutions, to colour and almost revive the past
in all its varied and changeful aspects. The genius of the historian
emits, as it were, flashes of light; but these, while illuminating some
occasional point, only leave a confused and uncertain view of past ages
in our mind. We require to know men and institutions, parties and laws,
as they really were; nor is this enough: we must also comprehend how
all these elements were fused into unity, and how laws and institutions
were begotten by those men in those times.
This was the task modern writers should have performed, but many
reasons have prevented its completion. First of all, the progress
achieved by art and literature while liberty was perishing in Florence,
and their great influence on all modern culture, fixed the principal
attention of writers on this section of Florentine history as being
one of very general importance, and more easily intelligible to all.
Accordingly, the greater number of modern, and especially of foreign
students neither examined nor understood the precise period in which
all the noblest qualities of the Florentine nature had been formed,
and during which were evolved and trained the intellectual powers
afterwards expressed in art and letters to the admiration of the whole
world. Many foreigners seemed to believe that art and letters had not
only flourished when manners were most corrupt, but were almost the
result of and identified with the corruption that led to their decline.
For the fine arts, being the offspring of liberty and morality, could
not long survive their parent forces.
It should be also observed that no great modern writer has yet produced
any work specially devoted to the political and constitutional history
of Florence.[4] It must be confessed that more than by any modern
pen was achieved to this effect by the elder and younger Ammirato,
who, although writers of the seventeenth century, already began to
ransack State papers, and composed a work that was new and remarkable
at that period. But they neither proposed to write a history of the
Florentine constitution, nor possessed sufficient critical equipment
for the purpose, had they sought to fulfil it. They often overload new
and valuable information regarding events, and even institutions, with
a mass of useless detail, destructive to the general unity of their
narrative.
It is scarcely requisite to add that modern writers, only treating of
Florence in general histories of Italy, were necessarily compelled to
pass briefly over secondary parts of their work. They often relied too
blindly on old authors of acknowledged repute and influence, without
using enough discrimination in sifting material of undeniable value
from other parts composed of second-hand narratives and repetitions
of fabulous tales. We have only to compare Villani with Malespini to
see that one of the two undoubtedly copied many chapters from the
other.[5] Nor is this a solitary example. As we have before remarked,
Machiavelli borrowed whole chapters from Cavalcanti;[6] Guicciardini
often translated from Galeazzo Capra, better known under the name of
Capella;[7] Nardi reproduced Buonaccorsi verbatim. Therefore, without
critical examination of these writers, and careful decision as to
their relative value and the confidence to be accorded to different
parts of their works, it is uncommonly easy to be misled. For this,
and many other reasons, modern historians of Italy encounter numerous
pitfalls when treating of Florentine matters. Now and then we see them
halting, in common with chroniclers of the widest renown, to define the
precise functions of the Captain of the people, or Podestà, or Council
of the Commune, and afterwards finding it extremely difficult to make
their definitions agree with actual facts whenever those titles recur
in their pages. Such mistakes nearly always proceed from a double
source. The definitions supplied by old writers regarding magistrates
and their functions were extremely slight, when they alluded to their
own times, and often inexact where other periods were in question.
Also, modern writers generally demand a precise and fixed definition
of institutions which were subject to change from the day of their
birth, and unalterable only in name. The name not only remains intact
after the institution has become entirely different from what it was at
first, but often long outlives the institution itself. It is curious
to see what ingenious theories are then started to give substance and
reality to names now become ghosts of a vanished past. The only way to
thread this labyrinth is by endeavouring to reconstruct the series of
radical changes every one of those institutions underwent, and without
once losing sight of the mutual relations preserved between them during
the continual vicissitudes to which they are subject. Only by seeking
the law that regulates and dominates these changes is it possible to
discern the general idea of the Republic and determine the value of its
institutions.
But what can be done while we lack so many of the elements most needed
for the completion of this task? The learned have yet to arrange,
examine, and illustrate the endless series of provisions, statutes,
_consulte_, _pratiche_, ambassadorial reports, and, in short, of all
the State papers of the Republic, many of which are still unsought and
undiscovered. Nevertheless, we believe that, without attempting for the
present any complete history of Florence, some rather useful work may
be performed. We may certainly follow the guidance of old chroniclers
and historians regarding events of which they had ocular testimony,
trying, when needed, to temper their party spirit by confronting them
with writers of an opposite faction. Vast numbers of documents have
been published in driblets, and many learned dissertations, although
the series is still incomplete; besides, one may easily resort to the
Florence archives in order to vanquish difficulties and bridge the
principal gaps. And after undertaking researches of this kind, it seems
easy to us to clearly prove how the whole history of Florence may be
illumined by a new light, and its apparent disorder made to disappear.
In fact, as soon as one begins to carefully examine the veritable
first causes underlying the apparent, and often, fallacious causes of
political revolutions in Florence, these revolutions will be found to
follow one another in a marvellously logical sequence. Then in the
wildest chaos we seem rapidly able to discern a mathematical succession
and connection of causes and effects. Personal hatreds and jealousies
are not causes, but only opportunities serving to accelerate the fast
and feverish sequence of reforms by which the Florentine Commune, after
trying by turns every political constitution possible at the time,
gradually attained to the highest liberty compatible with the Middle
Ages. It is this noble aim, this largeness of freedom, that rouses all
the intellectual and moral force contained in the Republic, evolves its
admirable political acumen, and allows letters and art and science to
put forth such splendid flowers in the midst of apparent disorder. But
when strictly personal passions and hatreds prevail, then real chaos
begins, the constitution becomes corrupt, and the downfall of freedom
is at hand.
The sole aim of the present work is to offer a brief sketch of the
history of Florence during the foundation of its liberties. So great is
the importance of the theme that the historian Thiers has given long
attention to it, and we know that an illustrious Italian has already
made it the object of many years of strenuous research.[8]
II.
The history of every Italian republic may be divided into two chief
periods: the origin of the commune, the development of its constitution
and its liberties. In the first period, during which an old state of
society is decaying and a new one arising, it is hard to distinguish
the history of any one commune from that of the rest, inasmuch as it
treats of Goths, Longobards, Greeks, and Franks, who dominate the
greater part of Italy in turn, reducing the country, almost throughout
its extent, to identical conditions. The position of conquerors and of
conquered is everywhere the same, only altered by change of rulers.
Amid the obscurity of the times and scarcity of information, there
seems scarcely any difference between one Italian city and another.
But differences are more clearly defined, and become increasingly
prominent after the first arisal of freedom. Most obscure, though not
of earliest date, was perhaps the origin of Florence, which tarried
long before beginning to rise to importance. Our present purpose being
merely to throw light on the history of the Florentine Constitution, we
need not devote many words to the first period mentioned above--namely,
of the origin of Italian communes in general. At one time this
question was the theme of a learned, lengthy, and most lively dispute,
chiefly carried on by Italian and German writers. But the scientific
severity of researches, in which Italian scholars won much honour,
was often impaired by patriotism and national prejudice. It being
recognised that the origin of the Commune was likewise the origin of
modern liberty and society, the problem was tacitly transformed into
another question--_i.e._, whether Italians or Germans were the first
founders of these liberties, this society? It is easy to understand
how political feelings were then imported into the controversy, and
effectually removed it from the ground of tranquil debate.
Towards the end of the last century the question was often discussed
in Italy by learned men of different views, such as Giannone, Maffei,
Sigonio, Pagnoncelli, &c. Muratori, though lacking any prearranged
system, threw powerful flashes of light on the subject, and raised
it to higher regions by force of his stupendous learning. But the
dispute did not become heated until Savigny took up the theme in his
renowned "History of Roman Law in the Middle Ages." In endeavouring
to prove the uninterrupted continuity of the said jurisprudence,
he was obliged--inasmuch as all historical events are more or less
connected together--to maintain that the Italians, when subject to
barbarian and even to Longobard rule, lost neither all their personal
liberty nor their ancient rights, and that the Roman Commune was never
completely destroyed. Accordingly, the revival of our republics and
of Roman law was no more than a renewal of old institutions and laws
which had never entirely disappeared. Germany was quick to see to what
conclusions the ideas of our great historian tended, and thereupon
Eichorn, Leo, Bethmann, Karl Hegel, and others, rose up in arms
against the theory of the Italian Commune being of Roman birth. They
maintained, on the contrary, that the barbarians, and more especially
the Longobards, whose domination was harsher and more prolonged than
the rest, had stripped us of all liberty, destroyed every vestige of
Roman institutions, and that, consequently, the new communes and their
statutes were of new creation, and originally derived from Germanic
tribes alone.
To all appearance these views should have stirred Italian patriotism
to furious opposition, and made Savigny's ideas universally popular
among us. Yet this was not the case. We supplied many learned adherents
to either side. At that time our national feeling had just awakened;
we already desired--nay, claimed--a united Italy, no matter at what
cost, and detested everything that seemed opposed to our unity.
Well, the Longobards had been on the point of mastering the whole of
Italy, and the Papacy alone had been able to arrest their conquests
by securing the aid of the Franks. But for this, even the Italy of
the ninth or tenth century might have become as united a country as
France. Already the school of thinkers had been revived among us that,
even in Machiavelli's day, had regarded the Pope as the fatal cause
of Italy's divisions. Therefore, naturally enough, while confuting
Savigny's views, our nineteenth-century Ghibellines exalted the
Longobards, ventured to praise their goodness and humanity, and hurled
invectives against the Papacy for having prevented their general and
permanent conquest of Italy. But, on the other hand, there was also
a political school that looked to the Pope as the future saviour of
Italy, and this school, prevailing later on during the revolution of
1848, adopted the opposite theory, and possessed two most illustrious
representatives in Manzoni and Carlo Troya. At any rate, they had
little difficulty in proving that barbarians had been invariably
barbaric, killing, destroying, and trampling down all things, and
that the Papacy, by summoning the Franks, no matter for what end, had
certainly rendered some help to the harshly oppressed masses. The
Franks, in fact, gave some relief to the Latin population, sanctioned
the use of Roman law and granted new powers to Popes and bishops, who
undoubtedly contributed to the revival of the communes. Thus, although
for opposite ends, identical opinions were maintained on both sides of
the Alps. Throughout this controversy learning was always subordinated
to political aims, although the disputants may not have been always
aware of it; and historic truth and serenity consequently suffered
unavoidable hurt. Balbo, Capponi, and Capei, after throwing their
weight on this side or that, ended by holding very temperate views, and
their teachings cast much light on the point at issue.
The main difficulty proceeds from the fact that few persons are willing
to believe that in the Middle Ages, as well as throughout modern
history, we can always trace the continuous reciprocal action of the
Latin and German races, and that it is impossible to award the merit of
any of the chief political, social, or literary revolutions exclusively
to either. On the contrary, wherever the absolute predominance of
one of the two races seems most undoubted, we have to tread with
most caution, and seek to discover what share of the work was due to
the other. Likewise, in order to justly weigh and determine their
reciprocal rights in history, impartial narrative would have a better
chance of success than any system based on political ideas. Assuredly,
when facts are once thoroughly verified, no system is needed, since
general ideas result naturally from facts. Were it allowable to
introduce here a comparison with far younger times, we might remark
that when French literature invaded Germany in the eighteenth century
it obtained general imitation there, and unexpectedly led to the
revival of national German literature. In order to glorify the national
tone of this literature, would it be necessary to maintain that the
great previous diffusion of French writings was only imagined by
historians? Later, the French flag was flaunted in nearly every city of
Germany, and the people humiliated and crushed. From that moment we see
the national German spirit springing to vigorous life. Must we say that
this revival was due to the French? Is it not better to describe events
as they occurred, rejecting all foregone conclusions? I am quite aware
of the abyss between these recent events and those of old days; but,
nevertheless, I consider that Balbo was right in remarking that the
fact of the origin of the communes being disputed at such length and
with so much heat and learning by the two rival schools, proved that
the truth was not confined exclusively to either. Accordingly, we will
rapidly sum up the conclusions we deem the most reasonable.
Every one knows that, after the earlier barbarian descents, by which
the Empire was devastated, and Rome itself frequently ravaged, Italy
endured five real and thorough invasions. Odoacer, with his mercenary
horde, composed of men of different tribes, but generally designated as
Heruli, was the leader who dealt the mortal blow in 476, and becoming
master of Italy for more than ten years, scarcely attempted to govern
it, and only seized a third of the soil. But a new host poured in from
the banks of the Danube, commonly styled Goths, and subdivided into
Visigoths and Ostrogoths. The former division, commanded by Alaric,
had already besieged and sacked Rome; the latter, led by Theodoric,
appeared in 489, and speedily subjected all Italy. Theodoric's reign
was highly praised. The chiefs of these early barbarian tribes had
often served for many years in Roman legions, and had sometimes been
educated in Rome. Accordingly they felt a genuine admiration for the
majesty of the very empire that the heat of victory now urged them
to destroy. Theodoric organised the government; and, according to
the barbarian custom, seized a third of the land for his men; but he
left the Romans their laws and their magistrates. In every province a
count was at the head of the government, and held jurisdiction over
the Ostrogoths. The Romans were ruled according to their own laws,
and these laws administered by a mixed tribunal of both races. But
Theodoric's government became gradually harsher and more intolerable
to the Romans, so that, after his death, they revolted against his
successors, and invoked the aid of the Greeks of the Eastern Empire.
But revolt brought them nothing save increased suffering, inasmuch as
the Goths began to murder the Romans in self-defence, deprived them
of what liberty and institutions they had been allowed to retain, and
organised a military and absolute government. This was the government
Belisarius and Narses found established on coming from Constantinople
to deliver and reconquer Italy; this was the government they copied
with their dukes, or _duces_. The Ostrogoths had ruled Italy for
fifty-nine years (493-552), and the Greeks held it for sixteen more
(552-568). Theirs also was a purely martial government, under the
General-in-chief Narses, but with dukes, tribunes, and inferior judges
nominated by the Empire. As usual, the newcomers appropriated a share
of the soil, and probably this share now went to the State. Their
tyranny was different from that of the barbarians, but it was the
tyranny of corrupt rulers, and therefore more cruel. The Greeks had
expelled the Goths, and next came the Longobards to drive out the
Greeks. They gradually extended their conquests, and in fifteen years
became masters of three-fourths of Italy, leaving only a few strips
of land, mainly near the sea, to the Greeks whom they never succeeded
in expelling altogether. The Longobards struck deep roots in Italian
soil, and dwelt on it for more than two hundred years (568-773),
ruling in a very harsh and tyrannous fashion. They took a third of the
land, reduced the Italians almost to slavery, and respected neither
Roman laws nor Roman institutions. Beneath their sway the ancient
civilisation seemed annihilated, and the germs of a newer one were
prepared, although its first budding forth is still involved in much
obscurity. Every controversy as to the origin of our communes started
from inquiries into the condition of the Italians under the Longobard
rule. If ancient tradition were at any time really broken off and
replaced by a totally new one, it must have occurred under that rule.
Or, if it only underwent a great change before assuming new life and
vigour at a later time, the process must have dated from the same
period.
Nevertheless, wherever the Byzantine domination had obtained, a feebler
and more vacillating government weighed less cruelly on the people;
therefore, as early as the seventh and eighth centuries, certain cities
were seen to develop new life. The Commune speedily took shape, even
in Rome, where the power of the Papacy, hostile to the Longobards, had
greatly increased. On first coming among us, these barbarians of the
Arian creed respected neither the Catholic bishops, the minor clergy,
nor anything sacred or profane, and later on menaced the Eternal City
itself. Accordingly, as a means of defence against the threatening
enemy at his gates, the Pontiff summoned the Franks to save the
Church and country from oppression. They came in obedience to this
call, led first by Pepin and then by Charlemagne, who, driving out
the Longobards, and fortifying the Papacy by grants of land, enabled
the Pope to inaugurate his temporal dominion. In reward for this
Charlemagne was crowned emperor; and thus the ancient Empire of the
West was re-established by the new Empire of the Franks, to which the
Holy Roman-Germanic Empire afterwards succeeded.
Thereupon the dissolution of barbarian institutions, already begun in
Italy, proceeded at a more rapid pace. There was a ferment in Italian
public life, heralding the approach of a new era. Institutions,
usages, laws, traditions of all kinds--Longobard, Greek, Frankish,
ecclesiastical, Roman--were found side by side and jumbled together.
Next ensued a prolonged term of violence and turmoil, during which the
name of Italy was scarcely heard. All old and new institutions seem at
war, all struggling in vain for supremacy, when suddenly the Commune
arises to solve the problem, and the era of freedom begins. But what
gave birth to the Commune? This is the question by which we are always
confronted.
It would be outside our present purpose to follow the learned scholars
who have sought to deduce ingenious and complicated theories from
some doubtful phrase in an old codex, or the vague words of some
chronicler. It is certain that the Roman Empire was an aggregation of
municipalities exercising self-government. The city was the primitive
atom, the germ-cell, as it may be called, of the great Roman society
that began to disperse when the capital lost the power of attraction
required to bind together so great a number of cities separated by
vast tracts of country either totally deserted, or only inhabited by
the slaves cultivating the soil. The barbarians, on the other hand,
knew nothing of citizen life, and the _Gau_ or _Comitatus_ (whence
the term _contado_ is derived), only comprising embryo towns, or
rather villages, which were sometimes burnt when the tribes moved on
elsewhere, resembled the primitive nucleus of Teutonic society. In
the _comitatus_ the count ruled and administered justice with his
magistrates; the chiefs of the soldiery were his subordinates, and
became barons later on. Several countships joined together formed the
dukedoms or marquisates into which Italy was then divided, and the
whole of the invading nation was commanded by a king elected by the
people.
When, therefore, the Germanic tribes held sway over the Latin, the
_Gau_ held sway over the cities which indeed formed its constituents.
And the counts, as military chieftains, ruled the conquered land,
of which the victors appropriated one-third. The Goths pursued the
same plan; so too the Greeks, who replaced all counts by their own
_duces_; and so also the Longobards. Only the latter's rule was far
more tyrannous, especially at first, and their history is very obscure.
They began by slaughtering the richest and most powerful Romans; they
seized one-third of the revenues, it would seem, instead of the lands,
thus leaving the oppressed masses without any free property, and
consequently in a worse condition than before. The Goths had permitted
the Romans to live in their own way, but the Longobards respected no
laws, rights, nor institutions of the vanquished race. On this head
Manzoni remarks[9] that no mention is found of any Italian personage,
whether actual or imaginary, in connection with any royal office or
public act of the time. Nevertheless, from absolute tyranny, and even
downright subjection, to the total destroyal of every Roman law, right,
and institution, there is a long step. In order to attribute to the
Longobards--numbering, it is said, some 130,000 souls in all--the total
extinction of Roman life in every direction, we must credit them with
an administrative power, far too well ordered and disciplined, too
steadfast and permanent, to be any way compatible with their condition.
How could a tribe incapable of comprehending Roman life persecute it
to extinction on all sides? Granting even, although this is another
disputed point, that the Romans were deprived of all independent
property; granting that Roman law was neither legally recognised nor
respected by the Longobards, it by no means follows that every vestige
of Roman law and civilisation was therefore destroyed at the time. Far
more just and credible seems the opinion of other writers who have
maintained that when the Longobards descended into Italy they thought
chiefly of their own needs, made no legal provision for the Italians,
and were satisfied with keeping them in subjection.[10] Thus, in all
private concerns, and in matters beyond the grasp of the barbarian
administration, the conquered people could continue to live according
to the Roman law and in pursuance of ancient customs. In fact, Romans
and Longobards lived on Italian soil as two separate nations; the
fusion of victors and vanquished, so easy elsewhere, is seen to have
been difficult in Italy, even after the lapse of two centuries. So
great is the tenacity and persistence of the Latin race among us, that
it is easier to reduce the conquered to slavery, or extirpate them
altogether, than to deprive them of their individuality. In fact,
whenever, by the force of things, and by long intercourse, conquerors
and conquered come into closer contact, the barbarians are unavoidably
driven to make large concessions to the Latin civilisation, which
even when apparently extinguished is always found to have life. How
explain otherwise the gradual yielding of Longobard law to the pressure
of Roman law; how explain the new species of code that gradually took
shape, and was styled by Capponi _an almost Roman edifice built upon
Germanic foundations_?
As the Longobards became more firmly established in Italy, they began
to inhabit the cities which they had been unable to entirely destroy;
they also began to covet real property, and accordingly, during the
reign of their king Autari, instead of a third of the revenues, seized
an even larger proportion of the land. This measure aggravated the
condition of the vanquished on the one hand, but greatly improved
it on the other, by leaving them in possession of some independent
property.[11] And although, as Manzoni observed, we find no royal
officials, great or small, of Roman blood, it is no less certain
that the Longobards, having need of mariners, builders, and artisans,
were obliged to make use of Romans and their superior skill in
those capacities. It was in this way that the ancient _scholae_, or
associations of craftsmen, continued to survive throughout the Middle
Ages, as we know to have been the case with the _magistri comacini_, or
Guild of Como Masons, to whose skill the conquering race had frequent
recourse. In however rough and disorderly a fashion these associations
contrived to withstand the barbarian impact, they were certainly an
element of the old civilisation, and kept the thread of it unbroken.
Other remains and traditions of that same civilisation also clung
about them; and when every other form of government or protecting
force was lacking to the inhabitants of cities, these associations
guarded the public welfare to some extent. Do we not find that an
ancient municipality, when first left to its own resources, sometimes
closed the city gates against the barbarians, and defended itself,
almost after the manner of an independent state? Was it not sometimes
successful in repulsing the foe? Even when conquered, trampled, and
crushed, can we suppose it to have been destroyed everywhere alike, or
so thoroughly cancelled from the memory of the Latins, that, on seeing
it reappear, we must attribute its resurrection to Germanic tribes, to
whom all idea of a city was unknown until they had invaded our soil?
Did not the resuscitation of the Greek cities of Southern Italy begin
as far back as the seventh and eighth centuries--namely, in the time of
the Longobards--and assuredly without the help of Germanic traditions?
Did not the Roman Commune arise at the same period? And if the ancient
municipalities, fallen beneath the Longobard yoke, and therefore more
cruelly oppressed, delayed almost four centuries longer, did they not
also follow the example of their fellow-cities at last? What is the
meaning of the widely spread tradition, that only in that paragon of
independent, free republics, Byzantine Amalfi, were preserved the Roman
Pandects, which were then captured by Pisa, and cherished as her most
valued treasure? Does not the whole subsequent history of the Commune
consist of the continual struggle of the re-born Latin race against the
descendants of Teuton hordes? If Latin civilisation had been utterly
destroyed, how came it that the dead could rise again to combat the
living? Therefore, it seems clear to us that, although the Longobards
accorded no legal rights to the conquered people, they could not
practically deprive them of all; they either tolerated or were unaware
of many things, and the tradition, usage, and persistence of the race
kept alive some remnants of Latin civilisation. Thus alone can it be
explained how, after enduring a harsh and long-continued tyranny that
apparently destroyed everything, no sooner were a few links snapped
off the strong, barbaric chain, by which the Italian population was
so straitly bound, than Latin institutions sprang to new life, and
regained all the ground they had lost.
Barbarian society, both in form and tendency, was essentially different
from the Latin. Its predominant characteristic was the so-called
Germanic individualism, as opposed to the Latin sociability. We note
a prevalent tendency to divide into distinct and separate groups. As
a body, it no sooner lost the force of cohesion and union induced by
the progress and rush of conquest, than it immediately began to be
scattered and disintegrated. Owing to their nomadic and savage life,
as well as to the blood in their veins, the barbarians seemed to have
inherited an exaggerated personality and independence, making it
difficult for them to submit for long to a common authority. Thus,
when peace was established, germs of enfeebling discord soon appeared
among them. In fact, when the Longobards had completed the conquest
of nearly the whole of Italy, they divided the land into thirty-six
Duchies, governed by independent dukes enjoying absolute rule in their
respective territories. Under the dukes were sometimes counts, residing
in cities of secondary importance, and at the head of the _comitati_;
while still smaller cities were often ruled by a _sculdascius_, or
bailiff. Both dukes and bailies administered justice according to
the Longobard code, together with the assistant judges, who, under
the Franks, developed into _scabini_, or sheriffs. Little by little
military leaders gained possession of the strongholds, and subsequently
became almost independent chiefs. Then, too, the royal officials,
styled _gasindi_, likewise exercised great power. And even as the
dukes finally asserted their independence from the king, so counts and
_sculdasci_ sought emancipation from the ducal sway, although without
immediate success. In the first century, after the conquest, there
was no law, no recognised protection for the vanquished, nor was the
authority of the bishops and clergy in any way respected. The history
of the Longobard rule shows it to have been so tremendously oppressive
as to apparently crush the very life of the people, so that even at the
most favourable moments no serious revolts were attempted. Even the
example of the free cities in the South failed to excite them.
Nevertheless, as we have already noted, the Church, having gained
meanwhile a great increase of power, refused to tolerate the pride
and arrogance of barbarians who showed her so little respect. Hence
the Pope resolved to expel these strangers by the help of others, and
called the Franks into Italy. Charlemagne, the founder of the new
Empire, could not regard the Latins, to whom the growing civilisation
of his states was so much indebted, with the inextinguishable barbarian
contempt felt by the Longobards. He sought to extend his conquests and
his power. He wished to assist the Pope, in order to be consecrated
by him and obtain his moral support. Therefore he came to Italy, and
the already disintegrated Longobards could ill withstand the firm
unity of the Franks, strengthened as it was by the prestige of his
own victories. In vain the Longobards had already chosen and sworn
fealty to another monarch; in vain they prepared for defence. After
two hundred and five years of assured and almost unchecked domination,
their kingdom was overthrown for ever. In 774 Charlemagne became master
of Italy, and in the year 800 was crowned emperor by the Pope in Rome.
Thus the Western Empire became reconstituted and consecrated in a new
shape, entirely separate and independent from the Empire of the East.
The Franks deprived the Longobards of all their dominions, excepting
the Duchy of Benevento in Southern Italy. The power of the Pope was
greatly increased by his assumption of the right of anointing the
emperor, who rewarded him with rich donations and promised additions of
territory. Rome, however, was ruled as a free municipality; and Venice,
after the manner of the Greek cities in the South, had already asserted
her freedom. Such was the state of Italy after the last barbarian
invasion--that, namely, of the Franks.
As usual, the new masters appropriated one-third of the land; but the
condition of the natives was now decidedly changed for the better.
Roman law was recognised as the code of the vanquished, and this is
an evident sign that it was never entirely obsolete during the two
centuries of Longobard rule. Charlemagne greatly improved the condition
of the Latins, and sometimes promoted them to _honours_, _i.e._,
to offices of royal appointment. But the special characteristic of
his reign in Italy was the new hierarchy he established there. He
destroyed the power of the dukes, whose attitude was too threatening to
the unity of the Empire, and raised instead the position of the counts.
Even in the Marches, or border-provinces, he retained no dukes, but
replaced them by marquises (Mark-grafen, Praefecti limitum). In this
manner the ancient unity of the _comitatus_, or _Gau_, became likewise
the basis of the new barbarian society. Nor did Charlemagne stop at
this point, but began to distribute offices, lands, and possessions in
_beneficio_--_i.e._, in fief--and therefore on condition of obligatory
military service. This proved the beginning of a social revolution,
possibly originated at an earlier date, but now carried to completion
under the name of feudalism. Not the emperor only, but kings, counts,
and marquises also granted lands, revenues, and offices in fief, in
order to obtain a sufficient supply of vassals. Thus an infinite
number of new potentates was created: _vassalli_, _valvassori_, and
_valvassini_, the latter being lowest in degree. Gradually the whole
society of the Middle Ages took a feudal shape; the recipient of a
grant of land was bound to yield military service, at the head of
the peasants employed on his ground. Similar privileges, similar
obligations, accompanied every donation of land or bestowal of office;
for even official posts were generally supplemented by a concession
of land or of revenue. Thus the Germanic tendency to division and
subdivision in small groups was satisfied, while, at the same time,
the Empire, the cities, and even the Church itself, assumed a feudal
form. The bishops in their turn soon began to possess benefices,
and gradually rose to increased power, until we find them in the
position of so many counts and barons. Both in their own persons, and
those of their subordinates, they enjoy immunity from ordinary laws
and tribunals--an inestimable advantage, serving to enhance their
independence and unite large clusters of population beneath their
sheltering sway. Feudalism, accordingly, is a new order, a new and
thoroughly Germanic aristocracy, yet at the same time it is the root of
a veritable revolution in barbaric society, the which revolution will
continue to grow and extend through many vicissitudes. Step by step
the Crown will begin to exempt the benefices or fiefs of the vassals
from subjection to the count, and will then declare them hereditary by
means of a series of laws, all designed for the purpose of irritating
the lesser potentates against their superiors, and of giving increased
strength to the royal authority; but which served, on the contrary, to
open a way of redemption to the downtrodden people. All this, however,
was still unforeseen in the days of Charlemagne. He organised the
feudal system, and kept his realm united and flourishing, although soon
after his death (814) the Empire was split into several kingdoms.
The rule of the Franks in Italy lasted to the death of Charles the
Fat, in 888. And throughout this rule of 115 years, the revolution to
which we have alluded was steadily making way. On all sides the number
of benefices or fiefs continually grew, and year by year exemptions
increased at an equal rate. These were conceded more easily to prelates
than to others, since when laymen received benefices they were entitled
to leave them to their heirs, and thus became inconveniently powerful.
This state of things proved very favourable to cities in which bishops
held residence. At first the count was sole ruler of the city, save
the portion appertaining to the Crown, and called _gastaldiale_, as
being under the command of a _gastaldo_, or steward; then, as the
power of the bishop increased, another portion was exempted from the
count's jurisdiction, as being _vescovile_, _i.e._, the property of
the bishop. Step by step this portion was enlarged until it included
nearly the whole of the town: many cities, in fact, were ruled solely
by the bishop. Thus the fibres of barbarian society were weakened, and
we might almost say unknit, by a method that would have served to keep
it in subjection to the supreme authority of the monarch, but for the
fact that the people, deemed to be dead, was not only breathing, but on
the point of asserting its strength against nobles, kings and emperors,
prelates, and Popes.
Two revolts in the cause of liberty successively took place, and both
began under the Carlovingians, and continued during the reigns of their
successors. The first enervated and enfeebled the barbarian society
to which the soil of Italy was so ill suited; the second prepared the
way for the rise of communes. With the death of Charles the Fat the
rule of the Franks lapsed, and barbarian invasions likewise ceased.
The Germanic tribes had settled down on Italian soil and were becoming
civilised. Nevertheless, Italy had still to pass through a string of
revolutions and years of ill fortune. At the dissolution of the Empire
of the Franks, certain counts and marquises, especially the latter,
who, by the union of several counties, had gained the power of dukes,
were found asserting extravagant pretensions, even endeavouring to form
independent states, and often with success. To this day, in fact, there
are reigning families descended from Frankish marquises and counts. To
compass their destruction benefices and immunities had been granted
in vain: their power was not to be so easily extinguished. For, even
in Italy, where, owing to the different character of the country,
the ancient civilisation had tenaciously lingered on, and now began
to awake to new life, and where, too, the Papacy and the Greeks of
Byzantium had impeded the absolute triumph of Germanic institutions,
feudal counts and marquises now arose to contest the crown. Next
followed long years of renewed devastation and conflict, ending by
the crown being retained in the grasp of German emperors and kings.
The first wars and quarrels were carried on by Berengarius of Friuli
and Guido of Spoleto, with other Italian and foreign nobles, a German
king, two Burgundian monarchs, and finally by King Otho of Germany, who
remained victor. It was during these seventy odd years of continued
strife that Italian kings first reigned in Italy, though with an always
uncertain and disputed rule. Then came a forty years' peace (961-1002),
during which Otho I., II., III. reigned in turn, and another Italian
marquis, Hardouin of Ivrea, disputed the crown of Italy with the
German kings. But in 1014 Hardouin was vanquished by Henry of Germany,
surnamed the _Saint_, to whom succeeded Conradin of the Franconian or
Salic dynasty.
These two German sovereigns completed the feudal revolution, already
mentioned by us, the which, begun by the Carlovingians, and continued
by the Othos, had failed nevertheless to assure the supremacy of kings
and emperors over Italy. But, at all events, seeing that the Othos had
purposely exempted numerous lesser vassals from rendering allegiance to
the counts and barons, and had accorded many cities to prelates; also
seeing that the renascence of communes was considerably promoted by all
the aforesaid exemptions, some writers conceived the idea that this
renascence was chiefly owed to the initiative of the Othos. But these
emperors had a very different aim in view, and had failed to achieve
it. They sought to undermine the strength of all possible assailants of
the Crown, when threatened by revolts such as that of the Marquis of
Ivrea. For this reason Henry the Saint continued to favour the greater
feudatories at the expense of "holders of honours"--that is to say, of
counts and marquises--and in fact almost annihilated the latter class.
Conradin the Salic carried out the scheme more completely, by favouring
even the minor feudatories and making benefices hereditary. From that
moment the victory of the German sovereigns over the feudal lords
was assured; for vassals once rendered masters of their fiefs owed
obedience to the Crown alone, and thus the pride of the great nobles
was permanently abased. Not so the new popular pride, which had grown
to be a power unawares.
Accordingly, we find a multitude of facts showing that the condition of
the Roman race was continually improving; that feudal society, by the
action of its own sovereigns, was daily losing substance and strength;
that as the Latin civilisation revived by the natural force of events,
it changed, assimilated, and absorbed the principles of Germanic
society. Even before the two races came into conflict, the traditions
of the conquered had frequently combated and overcome those of victors.
The latter, indeed, had already accepted the Roman law to some extent,
when the once subject race pleaded the sanction of their municipal
statutes.
Italians were in a state of ferment and of radical transformation
when the first signs of a revival of the communes appeared. Neither
the barbarian rule nor the Empire had ever really mastered the social
order of the peninsula; and exactly when feudalism was first founded
and seemed likely to spread everywhere and assure the quiet supremacy
of the emperors over Italy, fresh causes of peril and strife suddenly
sprang into existence. Papacy and clergy attained to loftier and
more menacing power; the immunities lavished on prelates, from dread
of the laity, rendered them temporal potentates dependent on the
emperors, while as spiritual dignitaries they owed obedience to the
Pope: thus practically enjoying a double investiture. This led to much
disorder and scandalous corruption in the Church, since prelates were
converted into feudal lords, holding sway over cities, making war on
other territories, keeping open court, and indulging in every worldly
pleasure. The Popes wished to re-establish discipline, to maintain
absolute rule over the bishops, and nominate them unhindered; but
this was opposed by the emperor, since the temporal authority of the
prelates made them logically subject to his rule as well. Thus began
the famous war of investitures between the Papacy and the Empire, the
issue of which was so long undecided. Meanwhile neither the Church, the
Empire, nor the feudal system could obtain complete mastery over the
social movement, and the confusion was increased by their continual
disputes. This state of things weakened even the authority of the
prelates; and then the communes, having necessarily learnt the art
of self-government during the period when dioceses were left vacant,
having noted the prosperity of the Southern republics, and found
their strength increased by the extension of commerce and the feudal
disorganisation, finally saw that the moment to achieve freedom had
arrived. Even in cities ruled by lay nobles, things followed the same
course, since to side either with the Empire or the Church always
served to excite much enmity against those in power, and procured many
allies for the weaker party.
Accordingly the eleventh century witnessed the arisal of communes
throughout Italy, and the joy of independence once realised, it was
impossible to return to a state of vassalage, whether under bishops,
counts, or the Empire itself. At first these communes were hemmed
in on all sides by a vast number of dukes, counts, and barons of
various degrees of strength, inasmuch as the feudal order was still
very powerful and still supreme in all country districts. Of German
descent and trained to arms, these nobles fought in their own interest,
although nominally for the Empire and its rights, against the new
communal order that suddenly faced them with such menacing strength.
They swooped down from their strongholds to bar the trade of the towns;
they levied tolls, threatened violence, and tried to treat free men
as their vassals. Thereupon the indignant citizens were stirred to
vengeance from time to time, and often ended by razing great fortresses
to the ground. On the other hand, the nobles still remaining in the
cities became wearied of living among men who no longer respected the
distinctions of class or race, and often departed to rejoin their
friends. They frequently emigrated in such numbers that the citizens
suffered injury by it, and issued decrees forbidding their exodus.
The Pope gave encouragement to the communes, because the reduction of
his prelates' temporal power did not displease him, and the abasement
of the Empire was indispensable to his aims. Thus the struggle of the
working classes against feudalism finally began, and with it the real
history of our communes.
But it should not be thought that the Commune arose to champion the
rights of man or in the name of national independence. Nothing of the
kind. The Empire was still held to be the sole and universal fount
of right. Almost to the close of the fifteenth century, in fact, all
cities, whether Guelph or Ghibelline, foes or friends of the Empire,
continued to indite their State papers in its name.[12] The revived
republics always acknowledged its supremacy, and their own dependence,
almost, one might say, as though in claiming a new and more general
exemption, they only sought to be, as it were, their own dukes or
counts. They combated the nobles and combated the Empire; but victory
once assured, they recognised the authority of the emperor, and prayed
him to sanction the privileges they had won. Nor was the destruction of
the Empire at any time desired by the Popes; its protection was often
indispensable to them, and they too recognised it as the legitimate
heir of ancient Rome, and consequently as the only source of political
and civil rights. Their purpose was to subject the temporal to the
spiritual power. Therefore, during the rise of the Commune, theocracy
and feudalism, Papacy and Empire, still subsisted together and always
in conflict. The Commune had to struggle long against obstacles of all
kinds; but it was destined to triumph, and to create the third estate
and people by whom alone modern society could be evolved from the chaos
of the Middle Ages. This constitutes the chief historical importance of
the Italian Commune.
[Illustration]
CHAPTER I.
_THE ORIGIN OF FLORENCE._
I.
The origin of Florence is wrapped in great obscurity, and little light
is to be derived from chroniclers, who either avoided the subject
altogether or clouded it over with legends. Much has been written
of late touching these chroniclers and on the value and varying
credibility of their accounts. But in endeavouring to ascertain
everything, and push research too subtly, long and learned disputes
have sometimes arisen on particulars which can never, perhaps, be
verified and are scarcely worth knowing, while more significant and
easily investigated points have been left untouched. By this method
some risk is incurred of building up from those writers a species of
occult science for the sole benefit of the initiated, whereas all that
is absolutely known of the origin of Florence may be expressed in a few
words.
The Florentine Commune being of tardier birth than many others,
its historians and chroniclers were likewise of later date, since
no commune possesses a written history until conscious of its own
personality. Thus, it was only in the twelfth century that yearly
records were first started, registering some of the more important
events of Florence, giving dates, and names of places and persons,
while, at the same time, lists were made of the Consuls, the first
magistrates of the Commune, and afterwards supplemented with the
names of the Podestà, who succeeded to the Consuls. These magistrates
being changed yearly, and even more frequently, this catalogue served
as a chronological guide, and was soon converted into a register of
contemporaneous events in the town.
[Illustration: THE ARNO RIVER-GOD.
(_Bas-relief now in the Etruscan Museum, Florence._)
[_To face page 39._]
A very early fragment of these annals is preserved in the Vatican,
and is written on the back of a sheet forming part of a codex[13] of
Longobard laws. It contains eighteen records, running from 1110 to
1173, in different handwritings, all, however, of the twelfth century,
with some blunders and no chronological arrangement. Nevertheless
these records are of much importance, being the earliest we possess. A
similar and longer series of records of much later date, running from
1107 to 1247, is to be found in a thirteenth-century MS.[14] in the
National Library at Florence.
Both collections have been recently republished and illustrated by
Dr. Hartwig, under the title of "Annales florentini," i. and "Annales
florentini," ii.[15] The Codex containing the second series also
comprises the oldest list extant of Consuls and Podestà, from 1196 to
1267, and has been rendered more complete by the results of fresh
research.[16]
Other and similar records must have been certainly made, first in
Latin, then in Italian, and, in passing from this family to that, from
hand to hand, enlarged, revised, and altered according to the taste,
or even the fancy, of their transcribers. But, from the remains of
those records and all matter copied from them by the chroniclers, it
may be inferred with almost absolute certainty that they told little
or nothing of the origin of the Commune. We are therefore inclined to
believe that this was neither the outcome of virulent conflict nor of
downright revolution, for either would have been undoubtedly registered
in the annals, but that it gradually evolved and developed amid
struggles of secondary importance.
If in these days we desire to ascertain the origin of the Florentine
Commune, it is only natural that older generations should have felt
even a keener interest in the theme. They, however, lacked the art and
critical method enabling us to track and often lay bare the darkest and
most remote periods of history by means of public documents, although
many now perished must have been at their disposal. But our forefathers
were readier to draw on their own imagination, and thus a legend
regarding the origin of the city was created, and soon became widely
diffused.
The primary germ from which this legend was developed and expanded
must date from the twelfth century, seeing that it was known and
recorded by the chronicler Sanzanome, who wrote during the first years
of the thirteenth century. It cannot be much older than this, seeing
that the events and dates to which it alludes, in however vague
and shadowy a fashion, carry it down beyond the eleventh century.
Several inedited copies of this legend are still to be found in
Florentine libraries,[17] and it has been published in three different
compilations. The most ancient of these, in Latin, is contained in
a codex dating from the end of the thirteenth or beginning of the
fourteenth century.[18] The second, in Italian, is in a Lucchese
MS.,[19] compiled between 1290 and 1342; at one point it gives a
record of 1264,[20] and was probably written at that time. The third
and later version, known as the "Libro fiesolano", is comprised in an
Italian codex dated 1382, in the Marucellian Library at Florence, was
discovered by Signor Gargani and published by him in 1854.[21] Dr.
Hartwig discovered the second, which is identical, save in language,
with the first, and published all three under the title of "Chronica de
Origine Civitatis,"[22] found in the Lucca MS.; although in other MSS.
it is styled "Memoria del Nascimento di Firenze."
Such was the material at the service of the old chroniclers, and all
they had to rely upon regarding the origin of Florence. The earliest
chronicler of whom any remains are extant is the judge and notary
Sanzanome, who, as already noted by us, wrote his "Gesta Florentinorum"
at the beginning of the thirteenth century. We find him mentioned
more than once in Florentine documents from 1188-1245.[23] Although
we cannot be certain that this name always referred to the same
individual, it is certain that the same chronicler records his presence
in the war of Semifonte in the year 1202, and in that of Montalto
in 1207. Besides, his work is found in a Florentine codex of the
thirteenth century, and if not in his own hand, in the character of
about the same period.[24] This first attempt at Florentine history,
written in Latin by a judge and notary, supposed by Milanesi and
Hartwig to have been a native of a neighbouring town, but resident
in Florence, has a stamp of its own, very different from that of all
subsequent Florentine chronicles. Sanzanome says nothing as to the
origin of the Commune and its internal constitution. After a vague
and hasty allusion to the old legend,[25] he starts with the war
and destruction of Fiesole in 1125, "cum eius occasione Florentia
sumpsisset originem." Thus, from the beginning, he shows us the Commune
already established, with its consuls and captains, and proceeds to
recount its conflicts with neighbouring powers in a stilted, rhetorical
fashion, with uncertain and often erroneous dates, and with speeches
in strained imitation of ancient Roman historians. Consequently some
writers refused to assign any historic value to his work. But, on
the other hand, critics of greater weight and impartiality, such as
Hartwig, Hegel, and Paoli, have recognised that the work of this
notary, who was almost a precursor of the fifteenth-century humanists,
is a literary phenomenon, and that the fact of its isolation makes
it the more remarkable as a proof of ancient Florentine culture, and
also because we find beneath its rhetorical flourishes much useful
information on the early history of Florence.
Hence all the other chroniclers had to face one and the same problem:
how to write a history, or even a bare chronicle of the earliest
beginnings of Florence, from the scant and fragmentary accounts at
their disposal? The notary Sanzanome shirked the difficulty by saying
nothing of the foundation of the town, and then expanding his narrative
with rhetorical flights, fictitious speeches, and descriptions of
battles, in which his own fancy and imitation of the classics played
the main part. But this method was neither congenial nor possible to
the simpler folk of a later day, who sought to write as they spoke,
and whose culture was slighter, or at all events very different from
the notary's. These chroniclers, therefore, had no basis to build upon
save one legend and a few scraps of information that could not possibly
satisfy their patriotic pride.
Fortunately for their purpose, just at this time--namely, towards
the middle of the thirteenth century--an event of great literary
importance occurred, serving to put the Florentine chroniclers on a new
track. A Dominican monk, one Martin of Troppau, in Bohemia, surnamed
therefore _Oppaviensis_, vulgarly known as Martin Polono, chaplain,
apostolic penitentiary, and afterwards archbishop, wrote an historical
work which, although of no remarkable merit, had an extraordinary
and rapid success. It was a species of manual of universal history,
chronologically arranged under the names of the various emperors and
Popes, down to the year 1268. Its author afterwards carried it down to
a few years later, with an introduction treating of the times anterior
to the Roman Empire.[26] This book was mechanically arranged, and
stuffed with anecdotes, blunders, and fables; but was the work of an
eminent prelate, inspired with the Guelphic spirit. The author's method
of arranging the events of the Middle Ages under the headings of Popes
and Emperors served as a leading thread through the vast labyrinth.
It is certain that his book was rapidly diffused throughout Europe,
especially in Italy, and above all in Florence. As Prof. Scheffer
Boichorst remarks: "Its first translator was a Florentine, and another
Florentine, Brunetto Latini, the first to make use of it." In fact,
the Florence libraries have numerous copies of it in Latin MSS. of the
fourteenth century, while others of the same period comprise an Italian
translation that, according to the results of learned research,[27]
must have been produced in Florence towards 1279.[28] This fact alone
is a most luminous proof of the rapid popularity and diffusion of the
work. As it was a common practice with the scribes of that period to
insert alterations of their own in the works they copied out, it may
have easily occurred to some transcriber of this translation to enrich
it here and there with the more important of the few facts then known
of the early history of their city. But as Martin Polono's work was
only brought down to the end of the thirteenth century, and items of
Florentine history had increased in number and extent, so it came about
that all these additions forsook universal history and were solely
devoted to that of Florence. In this way the former merely served, as
it were, as an introduction to the latter; a result highly gratifying
to municipal self-complacency.
One of the first works introducing Martin Polono's book, translated,
shortened, re-written, and with several interpolated Florentine
items, is that entitled "Le Vite dei Pontefici et Imperatori Romani,"
once attributed to Petrarch, and existing in several Florentine
fourteenth-century codices. In this work, however, Florentine history
is still given very secondary importance, and indeed when at last,
after various sequels and alterations, it finally appeared in print
in 1478, Polono's primitive method was still maintained by giving
summaries here and there of the lives of the other emperors and Popes.
But other versions soon appeared in which Florentine history filled a
larger space.[29] In a fourteenth-century MS. of the Naples National
Library, first examined by Pertz, we find Martin Polono's share of
the work considerably curtailed, and the history of Florence not only
much extended, but likewise carried down to 1309.[30] Here one begins
to see that the writer was chiefly interested in Florentine events.
Professor Hartwig was so struck by this fact as to be at the pains to
extract everything relating to Florence from the MS., and print it
apart, as one of the authorities probably recurred to by Villani.[31]
In a chronicle attributed to Brunetto Latini the same purpose is
still more clearly indicated. Some of the Florentine news contained
in it were long and frequently extracted, printed, and employed;
notably the list of Consuls and Podestà used by Ammirato, and a
narrative of the Buondelmonti tragedy (1215), differing considerably
from Villani's version of the tale. It was speedily decided that the
author must have written in 1293, since he records an event of that
year, and says that he witnessed it with his own eyes.[32] Later, this
Chronicle was attributed to Brunetto Latini, although the narrative is
carried down to a date when Dante's master must have certainly ceased
to exist.[33] During his learned researches in Florence Dr. Hartwig
discovered a MS. that, in all probability, is the original autograph of
the Chronicle.[34] Although mutilated--starting only from 1181--this
Codex is doubly precious, as it clearly shows the method on which
this and many similar works were compiled. There is a middle column
containing the usual mangled version of Martin Polono[35]; and here
on the margins, between the rubrics and sometimes even the lines, are
added notices of general history, drawn from other sources, and special
records of Florentine events.
The history is thus brought down to 1249, where a gap occurs extending
to 1285, from which year the author continues his narrative to
1303.[36] But in this second part the character of the work is
entirely changed. Having no longer Martin Polono as a guide, he now
forsakes that prelate's method. The affairs of the Empire and the
Church are reduced to still smaller proportions, more space is given to
those of Florence, and instead of being scattered haphazard over the
narrative, they are now united and carried steadily on. Thus we see a
real chronicle of Florence gradually developing before us and acquiring
a special value of its own. Its discoverer, Dr. Hartwig, at first
considered it an autograph, but finally conceived doubts on that score.
The great disorder of the manuscript; its mutilated commencement; the
gap between thirty-six years in the middle; the absence of certain
records, comprised in certain excerpts from it, quoted by old writers;
the discovery that many of these writers quoted from another MS. of
the Chronicle belonging to the Gaddi Library; all this justified his
statement that the problem could not be finally solved without the aid
of the Gaddi Codex, which he had not yet been able to discover.
On the other hand, Professor Santini maintained, in a prize essay,
that the Gaddi Codex could only be a copy of that found by Hartwig,
and that the latter must be the mutilated original manuscript. After a
short time the question was ultimately decided by another student of
our Istituto Superiore, Signor Alvisi, who, having unearthed the Gaddi
Codex in the Laurentian Library, found it to be a fifteenth-century
copy.[37] Here the various fragments--arranged in separate columns in
the original MS.--are joined with the remainder of the text, though
often in an arbitrary fashion. Here, too, there is the gap between
1249-85, but the Chronicle, instead of starting from 1181, begins, like
Martin Polono's first compilation, with Jesus Christ--_primo e sommo
Pontefice_--and the Emperor Octavian. Thus, it may now be affirmed,
that the Codex in the Florence National Library is a genuine and, as
it were, photographic representation of the method employed for the
earliest compilations of Florentine historiography. It allows us to see
the author at work, as it were, before our eyes.
Another, but far less perfect, specimen of this kind of production
is afforded by the Lucca MS., to which previous allusion has been
made. The author carefully tells us that it was composed between the
years 1290 and 1342. He transcribes the whole legend of the origin of
Florence, and then gives his Italian _pasticcio_ of Martin Polono,
beginning from the Emperor Octavian. But he intersperses it with "many
things relating to the affairs of Tuscany, and especially of Florence
... the greater part being found in divers books on Tuscany, of which
some contain more, some less" (_qual na più, qual na meno_). Having
reached the year 1309 in this fashion, he continues his narrative by
borrowing from Villani, several books of whose history had already
appeared in 1341, and with this assistance carries his work down to
1342. He continues by reproducing a Latin description of Florence
written in 1339, and then gives the Latin introduction that Martin
Polono had added to his history. The compiler of this Lucca Codex
avows that his method is neither logical nor chronological; but craves
the reader's indulgence, saying that in this work he had first put
together all the Italian and then all the Latin portions, with the
intention of arranging them better afterwards, by fusing them together
and writing the whole in Latin. This intention he seems to have found
no time to fulfil. From this Codex also, all the portions relating to
Florence were subsequently extracted and printed.[38] As may be seen,
the compiler's method is always the same, although in this case heavier
and more mechanical than usual, for lack of any inherent connection
between the different parts. The only novelty consists in transcribing
the entire legend to make it serve as an introduction to Florentine
history; an example that, as will be seen, was afterwards followed by
others.
But however flattering to Florentine self-love this system of fusing
the history of the Commune with that of the universe might be, it
was clearly apparent that the former remained crushed, as it were,
by the contact. Hence even the fourteenth century witnessed attempts
to expound it apart. Paolo Pieri begins his Chronicle from 1080, the
year from which the other writers also date their earliest historical
account of Florence, and continues it, with slight allusions to the
Popes and slighter to the emperors, down to 1305, including the scanty
Florentine records "gleaned from many chronicles and books, with
certain novel matters seen by me, Paolino di Piero, and written _ad
memoriam_." On the other hand, Simone della Tosa, who died in 1380,
begins his "Annals" with a list of Consuls and Podestà (1196-1278),
and then passes to the death of Countess Matilda (1115) and on to
1346, supplementing towards the close his meagre account of Florentine
affairs with details about his own family. But simple summaries such as
these, consisting only of a few pages, were more inadequate than ever
to satisfy the needs of a city that now, in the fourteenth century, had
already won a foremost place in Italy, was proudly asserting equality
with Rome, and aspired to have a history similar to that of the ancient
metropolis of the world.
Such was the ambitious problem that Giovanni Villani as shown by
his own words, proposed to solve. In the year 1300, he says, "being
in Rome for the Jubilee, admiring the grand memories of that city,
reading the glorious deeds narrated by Virgil, Sallust, Lucan, Titus
Livy, Paul Orosio, and other masters of history, who recounted, not
the events of Rome alone, but likewise strange events of the universal
world: I borrowed their style and form."[39] Reflecting that "our old
Florentines had left few and confused records of past deeds in our city
of Florence,[40] and that our city, the child and creature of Rome,
was on the upward path, and about to achieve great things, whereas
Rome was on the decline," I resolved "to bring into this volume and
new chronicle all the events and beginnings of the city of Florence,
... and give henceforth _in full_ the deeds of the Florentines, and
_briefly_ the notable affairs of the rest of the universe."[41] Thus,
according to Villani, the course to be pursued was to connect the
history of Florence with that of the world, as others had done before
him, but in such wise that Florence should not be the loser, but rather
play the chief part. Hence his work is no longer a mechanical mosaic;
he arranges his history, dividing it in books and chapters, after the
manner of the ancients. We do not know all the authorities from whom
his work was derived, for this question has not yet been completely
investigated. But we know that they were many in number. For general
history, Martin Polono was still the main source; but Villani also drew
from the "Gesta Imperatorum et Pontificum" of Thomas Tuscus,[42] the
"Vita di San Giovanni Gualberto," the "Cronache di San Dionigi" (an
Italian translation of which was printed--1476--before the original
text), and the "Libro del Conquisto d'Oltremare," which was a history
of the Crusades, translated from the French into almost every other
language during the Middle Ages.[43]
That Villani is a very valuable authority in Florentine history dating
from the end of the thirteenth century, is a fact well known to all,
and need not be discussed here. As to the origin of the city, he has
little that is genuinely historical to tell us. His accounts begin, as
usual, from 1080, are more or less identical with those disseminated
by other writers, not unfrequently charged with the same blunders, and
often in the same words. This singular resemblance between many of the
Florentine chroniclers when treating of early times, and remarked upon
later, was easily explained so long as it was taken for granted that
some chroniclers had copied from others. But when it could be proved,
as was often the case, that the same resemblance existed even between
totally independent writers, the problem was not so readily solved.
For this reason, Prof. Scheffer-Boichorst, in noting the fact, after
impartial and keen investigation, suggested the theory that all the
different chroniclers had drawn from some common source, of which
nothing was now known. Seeing that Tolomeo of Lucca, whose Annals
were already concluded before Villani began to colour his design,
often quotes from "Gesta" and "Acta Florentinorum," "Gesta" and "Acta
Lucensium," the German critic assigned the name of "Gesta Florentinum"
to what, in his opinion, must have been the original source used by all
the chroniclers of Florence down to the beginning of the fourteenth
century. This hypothesis became generally accepted as the most probable
explanation of a fact that was otherwise inexplicable. But when
attempts were made to precisely define the nature and limits of the
"Gesta"--to define, not only its language, but in which year it was
begun, in which ended, together with the style and exact character both
of the work and its author--the question then stood on very disputable
ground. Accordingly, I will leave discussions of this kind on one
side, as beyond the sphere of a general outline. Besides, I must agree
with Prof. C. Paoli[44] in considering that the "Gesta" cannot have
been a strictly individual work, but rather a collection of Florentine
news, originally of very meagre proportions, but gradually enriched by
fresh annalistic matter and new additions, as it passed from hand to
hand. Some compilation of this kind, but of greater weight and repute
(now unluckily perished), must have fallen into the hands of various
chroniclers, who made use of it in turn, unconscious that it had served
others before them. And these chroniclers were again copied by several
of a later period.
Villani begins with the Tower of Babel and the confusion of tongues
and then passes on to the legendary origin of Florence, dividing it
in chapters and expounding it as though it were genuine history, but
inserting various alterations, to which we shall refer later on. He
then proceeds with a general history of the Middle Ages, and from the
year 1080 engrafts on this stock all the accounts of Florence he had
been able to collect, and even colours these by a variety of other
legends much diffused among the people at the time, and often, also,
by the addition of fantastic considerations of his own. What amount
of accurate knowledge can be derived from all this? Substantially
we find a single legend, and a small number of historical facts of
undoubted value, though not free from errors, floating, as elsewhere,
in an ocean of events quite unconnected with Florence, intermixed with
scraps of misty traditions or legends, arbitrarily interpreted and
explained. Therefore, the first question to be decided is that of the
origin and value of the legend itself. Can any historical information
be derived from it, either directly or indirectly? The second question
is: Can it be ascertained with any certainty what original nucleus of
authentic information the "Gesta Florentinorum" must have contained?
The latter at least presents no serious difficulty, seeing that when
we compare the various chroniclers, particularly those who worked
independently, and extract what Florentine material they used in common
and often gave in the same words, the main point is won. But, after
all this, and after trying to extract some substance (scant enough,
as will be seen) from the legend, very little genuine information is
gained. It is therefore an absolute necessity to seek the aid of all
public and private documents contained in our Archives, and of all
learned modern investigations regarding mediæval history in general,
and that of Florence in particular. Florentine historical research,
first inaugurated by Ammirato, was diligently pursued in the eighteenth
century by Borghini, Lami, and numerous other scholars, down to the
present day. Nevertheless, the definite results of these prolonged
inquiries, this vast display of learning, were still very few. For
instance, we find that even the illustrious Gino Capponi, after a
short introduction to his History of Florence, is compelled, like the
ancients, to leap to the death of Countess Matilda, and makes his
first mention, so to say, of the Commune after it had already existed
for some time. Then the history of almost two centuries, to the year
1215, or thereabouts, is summed up in twelve pages, and only from the
thirteenth forward are events related really in full.
[Illustration: ETRUSCAN TOMBSTONES, FROM THE MERCATO VECCHIO, FLORENCE.]
But in these days the study of mediæval documents has made
extraordinary progress, above all in Germany, and accordingly the
Florentine question has been again reopened. Dr. O. Hartwig was the
first to apply his learning to the task, employing the scientific
method. He not only examined all that was published on the subject,
but made fresh researches in Italian libraries and archives, further
aided by precious notes of documents newly discovered in Tuscany by D.
Wüstenfeld. Thus, in the work from which we have frequently quoted, he
was enabled to give a collection of valuable documents and of learned
dissertations which have been already turned to account, will serve
as a basis for future researches, and would be still better known and
appreciated were they penned in a more popular style. Much has been
found, very much read by Prof. Perrens, who has devoted his life to
Florentine history, and already published eight volumes of his work.
His first volume, of five hundred pages, only extends to the middle
of the thirteenth century, and therefore treats of the origin of the
city learnedly and at length. All Italians owe him gratitude for
this; but it must be confessed that his untiring zeal, vast learning,
and prodigious reading have not always resulted in a due amount of
historical accuracy, and sureness of method. Treating of a period
in which all has to be built up on a very scanty number of known
facts, unless these facts are thoroughly ascertained disastrous
consequences are apt to ensue. For example, in investigating the first
origin of the Consuls, he still relies on the document of Pogna,
dated March 4, 1101, in which they are named, and without remarking
that Capponi, from whom, nevertheless, he continually quotes, had
proved that, although long thought correct, this date was erroneous,
and should be altered to March 4, 1181, Florentine style, the which
signifies 1182 in the modern style. Thus Prof. Perrens introduces
Consuls long before they were born.[45] Elsewhere he plunges into the
very intricate dispute as to the jurisdiction exercised over their
own territory by the Florentines of the twelfth century. He repeats
with the old chroniclers that in 1186 Frederic I. deprived them of
all jurisdiction beyond the city walls, but that they re-acquired it
in 1188. He adds that on the Emperor Frederic's decease in 1190, his
successor, Henry VI. "comme don de joyeux evènement, multiplie les
privilèges." He fails to reflect that the patent quoted in support of
the latter assertion bears the date of 1187, and that he gives the date
in a note of his own.[46] How is the reader to disentangle this skein?
As another example, we may add that the author gives as an historical
fact the legendary tale of the origin of the Colombina festival held
on Holy Saturday. The Florentines are sent to the Crusades by their
archbishop, Ranieri, in 1099: that is several centuries before Florence
possessed an archbishop. Pazzino de Pazzi, in reward for his feats of
valour at the taking of Jerusalem, receives the _mural crown_ from
Godfrey de Bouillon, together with the right to change his arms and
adopt the crosses and dolphins, the which change was only effected by
the Pazzi several centuries later.[47] Pazzino returns to Florence
in triumph, mounted on a car, of which the description is given; and
at a time when the Commune was not yet established,[48] is received
in the style of a Roman conqueror by the people, the clergy, and the
magistrates. He has brought three stones from the Holy Sepulchre, and
these are the flints from which the sparks are still struck to fire
the Car of the Dove. All this is derived from Gamurrini's "Storia
genealogica," an utterly valueless work.[49] Readers may consider it
strangely invidious on my part to be at the pains to refer to certain
blunders contained in a work of which I am the first to recognise the
merits, and by which I have often profited. But it seemed necessary to
explain why, in spite of having praised, I should so seldom quote it.
The work undeniably comprises abundant historic material, is written
with vivacity and clearness, contains many keen observations, and
does honour to an author to whom Italians are bound to be grateful.
But although for all these reasons it is a book deserving attention,
no possible use can be made of it, without continually verifying the
authorities cited in it.
Here a word must be said touching another and far less imposing work,
to which we have been able to refer with far greater security. Already,
in certain short papers appearing in the "Archivio Storico Italiano,"
Prof. Santini had proved his power of keen research on the early
history of Florence, and has now had the happy idea of collecting all
the documents on the subject, both published and unpublished, existing
in the Florentine Archives. After copying and verifying them from
the originals, he is now bringing them out in a bulky volume. It would
be well if he or other writers could complete the same task in all
cities, or at least in those of Tuscany, which had so many ties in
common. Meanwhile, his book will form a new and solid foundation for
Florentine historic research. We are doubly grateful for his kindness
in allowing us to examine his press proofs. Thus we have been enabled
to profit by his forthcoming book in advance of its publication, and
shall have frequent occasion to quote from it. Other works, unmentioned
in the text, will be recorded in the notes for our readers' benefit.
[Illustration: SITE OF A ROMAN VILLA DISCOVERED NEAR S. ANDREA,
FLORENCE.]
II.
Turning away for the moment from codices and chroniclers, we now come
to the legend presenting the first problem that has to be solved, or at
any rate discussed. Undoubtedly this legend was very widely circulated
among the people. Even the "Divina Commedia" (Par. xv. 125) tells us
how the Florentine dame at her spinning wheel--
"Favoleggiava con la sua famiglia
De' Troiani di Fiesole e di Roma."
Nevertheless, it appears to have had a literary rather than a purely
popular origin. In fact, it is only a strange medley of classical
and mediæval traditions, chiefly taken from books, and more or less
arbitrarily altered, regarding the siege of Troy, the flight of Æneas,
and the origin of Rome; and as municipal pride sought to connect the
latter with that of Florence, all the scanty and vague notices, or
rather traditions, existing on the subject had been carefully scraped
together. The legend begins with Adam, but quickly leaving him aside,
strides on to the foundation of Fiesole by Atlas and his spouse,
aided by the counsels of Apollonius the astrologer. Fiesole was the
first city built; it was erected on the healthiest spot in Europe,
and hence its name--_Fie sola_. The children of Atlas spread over the
land and populated it. The eldest son was called Italo, and gave Italy
its name; the third was Sicano, who conquered and named Sicily. The
second son, Dardano, wandered farther a-field, and founded the city of
Troy.[50] The legend next passes rapidly to the Trojan war, the flight
of Æneas, and the foundation of Rome, of which city Florence is the
favourite offspring. It then goes on to speak at much greater length,
of Catiline, regarding whom so many particulars are given, that he must
have been the subject of a separate legend which either, when united
with the rest, at a later date, formed the so-called "Chronica de
origine Civitatis," or was, more probably, anterior to this, and only
amalgamated with it in subsequent compilations.
After conspiring against Rome Catiline came to Fiesole, whither
the Romans pursued and attacked him, under their consuls Metellus
and Fiorinus. The latter falling in battle, their army was totally
defeated on the banks of the Arno. But Julius Cæsar came to avenge
them, besieged and destroyed Fiesole; and then, on the same spot where
Fiorinus had fallen, a new city was built, and called Fiorenza to
commemorate his name. Catiline fled to the Pistorian Appennines, but
was pursued there and routed. So great was the number of the killed,
that a pestilence broke out, and from this Pistoia derived its name.[51]
[Illustration: PAVEMENT OF ROMAN HOUSE UNDER THE MERCATO VECCHIO,
FLORENCE.]
[Illustration: MOSAIC PAVEMENT OF ROMAN BATHS, FLORENCE.
[_To face page 59_.]
In the legend the nomenclature of Tuscan cities is always explained on
the same principles, Pisa, for instance, being derived from _pesare_
(to weigh). For the Romans received their tributes there, and these
were so numerous that they had to be weighed in two different places.
This is why they spoke of the city in the plural, _Pisae Pisarum_.
Lucca comes from _lucere_ (to shine), because it was the first city
converted to the light of Christianity. When the Franks[52] marched
against the Longobards in the South they halted at a place in central
Italy, and left all their aged people behind them. Thus the city built
on that site received the name, likewise in the plural, of _Senae
Senarum_. Florence, however, according to the legend, derived its name
from Fiorinus, although later writers declared it to be taken from the
word _Fluentia_, because it stood by the river Arno; others, again,
from the numerous flowers springing from its soil. It was built in the
likeness of Rome, with a capitol, forum, theatre, and baths, and was
consequently called Little Rome. Its friends are always the friends of
Rome; the foes of the one are foes of the other.
After five hundred years, so runs the legend, _Totila flagellum Dei_
came and destroyed Florence, and immediately rebuilt the rival city
of Fiesole. This clearly alludes to Attila, since he bore the title
of _flagellum Dei_, and in the Middle Ages was the real type of the
devastator and destroyer of cities. As he never came to Florence he was
converted into Totila, who had been there, although never designated
by the same appellation. This exchange of names was aided by their
resemblance, nor is it the sole example the Middle Ages afford of the
confusion of Attila with Totila. In the "Divina Commedia" ("Inferno,"
xiii. 148-9) we find Dante attributing the destruction of Florence to
Attila, when he says:
"Quei cittadin che poi la rifondarno
Sovra il cener che d'Attila rimase."
And hereby he doubly deserts the legend; for, according to that,
Florence was rebuilt by the Romans and then, naturally, on the pattern
of Christian Rome, with churches dedicated to St. Peter, St. John, St.
Laurence, &c., as in the Eternal City.
Thereupon more than 500 years[53] elapsed in peace; but then Florence,
finally resolving to be revenged on its perpetual rival, suddenly
attacked and destroyed Fiesole. At this point we may remark that, if
Florence had been first founded in Cæsar's time, and adorned with Roman
monuments at a later date; if, after 500 years,[54] it was destroyed
by Totila, and then itself overthrew Fiesole after another interval
of 500 years, the chronology of the legend clearly brings us to the
eleventh century at least. If we also add that the assault and partial
destruction of Fiesole really occurred in 1125, it follows that, as
we have noted, the legend cannot have been framed before the twelfth
century.
Here, then, it should end and give place to history. In fact,
Sanzanome, the earliest of the chroniclers, begins his work with the
destruction of Fiesole. But the "Libro fiesolano" sometimes introduces
capricious turns in the framework of the legend, and at this point
makes an addition worthy of note as an evidence of the mode in which
these fantastic stories were built up. The added portion refers to
the Uberti, powerful citizens always opposed to popular government in
Florence. According to tradition, they came originally from Germany
with the Othos. Evidently, however, this theory was repugnant to the
author of the "Libro fiesolano," possibly an adherent of the Uberti,
and he therefore remarks, with some heat, that, on the contrary, the
Uberti were descended from Catiline, "most noble king of Rome," with
Trojan blood running in his veins. Catiline's son Uberto Cesare had a
Fiesolan wife, who bore him sixteen children; and he was afterwards
sent by Augustus to reconquer Saxony, which had risen in rebellion.
While in that country Uberto Catilina married a German lady of high
position, and from this union sprang "the lineage of the good Ceto
[Otho] of Sansognia." Thus it is false that the Uberti were "born of
the Emperor of Germany, the truth being that the emperor was born of
their race."[55] This addition, posterior to the rest of the legend,
shows that the author desired to exalt the Uberti; but, remembering
their constant hostility to the Florentine government, declared them
descended from Catiline and his Fiesolan bride. Also, being unable to
deny outright their Ghibelline proclivities and Germanic origin, yet
unwilling to acknowledge their descent from the Othos, he converts them
into the latter's progenitors. Thus the legend is brought into harmony
with its compiler's views, or rather, with his intent of magnifying his
friends.
Inquiry into the sources of this legend would only lead us astray,
without throwing any new light on the origin of Florence, since the
fable has no real historical value. We need only say that, besides
Darses' "De excidio Troiae," the commentary to Virgil of Servius;
Orosio's History, Paolo Diacono's Roman History, and the "Storia
Miscella," &c., must have been consulted for its compilation.[56]
Leaving the question aside, we may rather note that, although Villani
and Malespini both give the legend as a preface to their histories,
they not only refer to two separate compilations, but use them in
a totally different way.[57] This is another proof that even if
Malespini's chronicle were copied from Villani, it is not always
an exact reproduction. He refers to the "Libro fiesolano,"[58] but
enlarges it with two entire chapters of his own, containing a complete
story, probably derived from some episode of the Catiline legend. And
although teeming with the strangest anachronisms, it is better written
and far livelier than the rest.
In this tale we find Fiorino converted into a Roman king, married
to the most beautiful woman ever seen, appropriately named Belisca.
After the defeat and death of her husband, Queen Belisca remained the
captive of a wicked knight named Pravus, but Catiline causes him to
be put to death, and carries off Belisca, of whom he is desperately
enamoured. The queen, however, is in despair concerning the fate of her
lovely daughter Teverina, imprisoned in the house of one Centurione,
and adored by him. In kissing Teverina's beautiful hair this man had
exclaimed: "It is these that enchain me, for lovelier locks have I
never seen." On the day of Pentecost the mother attended mass in the
Fiesole church, and with bitter tears bemoaned the loss of her child.
Her prayer was heard by a serving-maid, who knew where Teverina was
hidden, and revealed it to the weeping mother. On receiving the news,
Catiline instantly attacked Centurione's palace, and, after a fierce
struggle, succeeded in capturing him. The prisoner owed his life to
Belisca's intercession; for, having regained her child, she desired
to save him, dressed his wounds, and urged him to fly from Catiline's
wrath. Centurione consented to escape, and having mounted his horse,
implored permission to bid a last farewell to Teverina. But when she
appeared, he caught her in his arms, and galloped away, followed by
his men. The mother fainted from grief, and Catiline, "with all his
barons," a thousand horse and two thousand foot, pursued the traitor to
the castle of Naldo, ten miles off, and proceeded to attack him there.
But at that moment news came that the Romans were marching on Fiesole,
so he was obliged to hasten back there before the siege should begin.
Thus ends the singular episode annexed to the legend, when, having
lost its primitive character, it became a fairy tale while pretending
to be history.
Villani, on the other hand, follows a more ancient compilation, and
rejects the Belisca story. He, too, is acquainted with the "Libro
fiesolano," makes some use of it, but considers it unauthentic exactly
at the point where we find Malespini adhering to it. In fact, when
recording the pretended descent of the Uberti from Catiline, Villani
adds: "We find no proof of these matters in any authentic history."[59]
Also, in trying, as far as possible, to give the legend a more genuine
and historical appearance, he often inserts alterations drawn from the
sources on which the legend itself was based, sometimes quoting Roman
poets and historians such as Ovid, Lucan, Titus Livy, and, above all,
Sallust, to whom he refers when adding certain historical particulars
to the Catiline legends. A permanently instructive psychological fact
is afforded us by the men of this period, and most of all by Villani.
How was it that a contemporary of Dante--a man practised in affairs,
cultivated, intellectual, and acutely observant--could mingle so much
and such puerile credulity with great intelligence, culture, and common
sense?
In short, what substantial information can be gleaned from the
"Chronica de origine civitatis"? Besides the ambitious aim, common to
nearly all the cities of Italy, of trying to trace their origin back
to the Romans and Trojans, the "Chronica" wishes to impress upon us
that the Etruscan Fiesole was the constant rival of Roman Florence,
which could not prosper until the former was destroyed. Therefore,
Catiline, the enemy of Rome, is the defender of Fiesole, Cæsar,
Augustus, the emperors, are the founders, champions, and restorers of
Florence, which is always described as being in the likeness of Rome
and styled little Rome, Augusta, Cesarea, &c. Totila or Attila--that
is, barbarians who overthrew the Empire--are likewise destroyers of
Florence. Another legend of later date attributes the rebuilding of the
city to Charlemagne, the restorer of the Empire. So at least the tale
runs in Villani and Malespini; but there is no trace of it either in
the "De Origine," or the "Libro fiesolano," both impregnated with Roman
traditions only, and the legends of chivalry being as yet unknown to
Florence. In fact, Villani remarks, when repeating the tale: "We find
(it) in the 'Chronicles of France.'"[60]
We may accept as a certainty that the first origin of Florence was owed
to Etruscan Fiesole, and that this was known even in the days of Dante
is proved by his lines to the Florentines ("Inferno," xv. 61-3):
"Ma quell' ingrato popolo maligno,
Che discese da Fiesole ab antico,
E tiene ancor del monte e del macigno."
And Niccolò Machiavelli, leaving all legends aside (as Aretino had done
before him), justly declared that the traders of Fiesole had begun from
very remote times to form a commercial settlement on the Arno, at the
point where the Mugnone runs into the river. So gradually a cluster of
cabins arose, grew into houses, and finally became a rival city. But
the city was entirely constructed by the Romans, though at what precise
period is still unascertained. It is scarcely probable that the event
can have occurred earlier than two centuries before Christ. Perhaps
the city began to rise when, to protect Tuscany against Ligurian
invaders, the Romans made a network of roads through the valley of the
Arno; that is, when (according to Livy) C. Flaminius _viam a Bononia
perduxit Arretium_, the which road crossed the Ponte Vecchio. Strabo
says nothing of Florence; Tacitus and Pliny are the first to mention
it. But in the second century of the Vulgar Era Florius already styles
it _Municipium splendidissimum_, and records it among the cities
which suffered most in the days of Sulla.[61] Recent excavations made
in digging new sewers under Florence have furnished proofs that in
Sulla's time the city must have already possessed buildings of no small
importance, including an amphitheatre.[62] The restoration of Florence,
after the serious injuries inflicted on it in Sulla's day, is generally
attributed to Augustus, who is supposed to have made it the seat of
one of the twenty-eight colonies founded by him, whence the name
_Julia, Augusta, Florentia_. The "Liber Coloniarum" (p. 213, 6) numbers
Florence among the colonies formed by the _Triumviri_ (45 B.C.), and
it certainly must have been a colony in 15 B.C., when the city sent
a deputation to Tiberius asking him to forbid the junction of the
river Chiana with the Arno, on account of the damage this would cause
(Tacitus, "Ann.," i. 79). But the weighty authority of Mommsen supports
the view that, in spite of the testimony given by Florius, the colony
of Florence was founded instead by Sulla.[63] The same date may be
assigned to the construction of the oldest circuit of walls, existing
during a great part of the Middle Ages, and some remains of which have
been discovered in our own day.
[Illustration: PISCINA FRIGIDARIA.
_Discovered near the Campidoglio, Florence._
[_To face page 66._]
Florence would seem to have been built in the form of the ancient Roman
_Castrum_, a quadrangle traversed by two wide and perfectly straight
streets, crossing it in the centre at right angles and dividing it into
quarters. The Campidoglio stood in the middle on the site afterwards
occupied by the Church of Santa Maria in Campidoglio, and the Forum was
near at hand, on the site of the now demolished Mercato Vecchio. There
was also the amphitheatre, known in the Middle Ages as the _Parlascio_,
of which some traces exist near Borgo de' Greci; a theatre (in Via de'
Gondi.); a temple of Isis (on the site of San Firenze); and baths in
the street still known as Via delle Terme.[64] Accordingly, it is not
surprising that the city, which was then very small and limited to this
side of the Arno, should have been called Little Rome, and sought to
base its origin on Roman traditions. The whole spirit of its monuments
spoke of Rome, and the same spirit was echoed by the minds and
imaginations of those who invented the legend. Even now, after so many
centuries, so many changes, we still find remains of Roman buildings,
and of so-called Byzantine architecture, but no single trace of the
real Gothic or Longobard style.
Florence gradually extended as time went on, and _borghi_ were built
outside the walls, the largest of these suburban quarters being the
_Borgo_, connected with the city proper by the Ponte Vecchio. In the
second half of the eleventh century, and in the year 1078, if Villani's
statement be correct (iv. 8), new walls were built to replace the
palisades surrounding the _Borghi_. Villani may be accepted as an
authority, now that he is known to have superintended the construction
of the third and last circuit of walls begun in 1299 (viii. 2 and 31),
and now almost entirely destroyed save for a fragment here and there.
For a long time after the epoch of the barbarian invasions the history
of Florence is involved in great obscurity, and what little information
we have on the subject is either entirely legendary or jumbled with
legends.
In 405 Radagasius led a horde of Goths, mixed with other tribes, into
Tuscany and lay siege to Florence. But the walls held out until the
Roman general Stilicho came to the rescue, defeated the assailants,
and put their leader to death. The resistance of Florence was greatly
magnified, and Stilicho's victory attributed to a miracle. Tradition
added that the battle having been fought on the 8th of October, the
Feast of Santa Reparata, the Florentines inaugurated their Pallio
races on that day, and founded the Church of Santa Reparata; but both
these events were of later occurrence. The tradition merely serves to
show how long Florence preserved the memory of its narrow escape from
destruction.
Regarding the next century there is an absolute blank; but then comes
the legend that even Villani accepts, relating how Totila, _flagellum
Dei_, destroyed Florence and re-built Fiesole.[65] To this the
chronicler appends a second tale to the effect that after the city
had remained thus devastated and ruined for 350 years, Charlemagne
summoned the Romans to join him in rebuilding the city in the likeness
of Rome, and that it thus arose anew, adorned with churches dedicated,
like those of Rome, to San Pietro, San Lorenzo, Santa Maria Maggiore,
&c., and was also granted a territory extending three miles beyond
the walls.[66] Here one sees that although the chronicler had already
recorded, on the authority of the "De Origine," that Florence was
rebuilt immediately after its pretended destruction by Totila, he
thought that date premature, seeing that Florence really remained for
long after in a very desolate and obscure condition, and therefore,
to save trouble, he also jots down the posterior legend attributing
instead the reconstruction of the city to Charlemagne, the saviour of
the Empire.
What germs of truth can be gleaned from all this? Totila really
entered Tuscany in 542, and sent part of his host to besiege Florence.
Justin, the commander of the Imperial garrison there, then sought
aid from Ravenna; and when the relieving force approached the city,
Totila raised the siege and withdrew towards Sienna. Pursued by the
Imperial troops, he succeeded in routing them, but instead of returning
against Florence, directed his march towards Southern Italy. So at
least runs the account given by Procopius, and also followed by modern
writers.[67] The Goths, it is true, made another descent later, easily
mastered Tuscany and Florence, and committed much cruelty there,
though without destroying the city. These are the facts; all the rest
was a legendary excrescence signifying that the Florentines endured a
long period of obscurity and oppression, and only began to emerge from
it in the time of the Franks.
In fact, the Longobard occupation of Tuscany took place towards
570, and we have two centuries of utter darkness. We find mention
of one _Gudibrandus, Dux civitatis Florentinorum_, appointed by the
conquerors; but nothing else is known to us. Amid the many calamities
wrought by invasion, war, and harsh tyranny, not only was the trade, to
which Florence owed its existence, entirely ruined, but many families
escaped from the plains to safe places among the hills, and a good
number accordingly took refuge in Fiesole, which city profited as usual
by the ill fortune of Florence. And this to so great an extent, that
during the latter half of the eighth century we find documents alluding
to Florence as though it had become a suburb of Fiesole.[68] But soon,
beneath Charlemagne's rule, times of greater order and tranquillity
were inaugurated. Men began once more to forsake the hills for the
valley; Florence began to prosper at Fiesole's expense. And as the
Franks replaced the Longobard dukes by counts, so Florence too had
its count, exercising jurisdiction throughout the territories of the
bishopric that had been carved out of the old Roman division. This was
the so-called _contado fiorentino_, stretching on the one side to a
place called I Confini, near Prato, and thence towards Poggio a Caiano,
sweeping round by the Empoli district, and conterminous with the
borders of Lucca, Volterra, and the _contado_ of Fiesole.[69]
Charlemagne halted in Florence, and celebrated Christmas there in 786;
he likewise defended the property of the Florentine Church against
Longobard aggressions. This gave rise to the legend that the rebuilding
of the city was his work. Regardless of anachronisms, Villani not
only adds that many imaginary privileges were conceded by him, but
attributes to this period the birth of the Commune which only took
place several centuries later. "Charles," he tells us, "created many
knights, and granted privileges to the city by rendering free and
independent the Commune, its inhabitants, and the _contado_, with
all dwellers therein, for three miles round, inclusive of resident
strangers from other parts. For this reason many men returned to the
said city, and framed its government after the Roman mode, namely,
with two consuls and a council of one hundred senators."[70] But this
addition is made by the chronicler, and in a more arbitrary way than
the legend itself.
Nor was this all. Not Charlemagne only, but likewise Otho I., the
regenerator of the German Empire, must be necessarily the patron
of Florence, "because," continues the chronicler, "it had always
appertained to the Romans and been faithful to the Empire."[71] In the
year 955 the emperor halted in Florence on the way to Rome for his
coronation, and on this occasion the chronicler makes him grant the
city a territory of six miles in extent, that is, one as big again, but
no less imaginary, than that bestowed by Charlemagne. Villani goes on
to relate how Otho established peace in Italy, overthrew tyrants, and
left many of his barons settled in Lombardy and Tuscany, the Counts
Guidi and Uberti among the rest. He fails to reflect that some of these
Tuscan families were of much earlier origin, and that even in his
own day the leading nobles of the _contado_ bore the name of Cattani
Lombardi, in remembrance of their Longobard descent. Also, he again
forgets that Florence was not then a free city to whom the emperor
could concede a portion of territory, which, as we have seen, already
belonged to his own jurisdiction, and, towards Fiesole at least, could
not possibly be of six miles in extent.[72]
Another fabulous narrative, also given by Villani, is that of the
destruction of Fiesole in 1010. On the day of St. Romolo's feast the
Florentines, bent on revenge, are supposed to have entered the rival
city with arms concealed under their clothes, and suddenly drawing
their weapons and summoning comrades hidden in ambush, to have rushed
through the streets, seizing everything and destroying all houses and
buildings excepting the bishop's palace, the cathedral, two or three
churches, and the fortress, which refused to surrender. After this,
safety was promised to all disposed to migrate into Florence, and many
profited by the offer. Thus the two peoples were made one, and even
their flags united. That of the Florentines bore the white lily on a
red field, that of Fiesole a demi lune azur on a white field; and thus
was formed the red and white banner of the Commune.[73]
According to Villani this union of two separate peoples proved the
chief cause of the continual wars by which Florence was harassed,
together with the fact of the city being built "under the sway and
influence of the planet Mars, the which always leads to war and
discord." Then again, as though forgetting he had already made the
same statement regarding the times of Charlemagne, he repeats the
almost equal anachronism that the Florentines "then made common laws
and statutes, and lived under the rule of two consuls and a council of
senators, consisting of a hundred men, the best of the city, according
to the custom introduced in Florence by the Romans."[74] It is plain
that he does not know how the Commune arose, but feels persuaded its
origin was derived from Rome, and therefore records the fact as having
occurred at the moment suiting him best, or seeming least improbable.
But it is hard to see why he assigned the war and destruction of
Fiesole to the year 1010 when aware that those events occurred, on the
contrary, in 1125, as he afterwards relates in due place. The most
probable explanation is, that finding the legend gave an account of
the war and overthrow of Fiesole _more than five hundred years_ after
the destruction of Florence by Totila, whose invasion occurred _five
hundred years_ after the city was founded, the chronicler described the
destruction twice over, namely, in 1010 and 1125; thus following first
the legendary account, which had retraced its steps in a very vague
fashion, and next the historical account, commonly known in his day.
As for the causes of civil war being derived from the forced junction
of two hostile nationalities, it may be observed that the diversity
between the Germanic strain in the nobility and the Latin blood of the
people, really constituted a strong element of discord, and this may
have been felt, if not understood, by the chronicler.
It is certain that from the Frankish times downward the prosperity of
Florence slowly but surely increased. Nevertheless it is true that, as
Villani says, its whole territory bristled with the castles of feudal
barons of Germanic descent, all hostile to Florence, and many of whom,
safely ensconced on the neighbouring hill of Fiesole, were always ready
to swoop down on Florentine soil.
In spite of this the geographical position of the city, on the road to
Rome, proved increasingly advantageous to its commerce. As early as 825
the _Costitutiones olonenses_ of the Emperor Lothair proposed Florence,
with seven other Italian cities, as the seat of a public school,
thus attesting its importance even at that date. Besides, the German
emperors nearly always halted there on their way to coronation in Rome.
More often, and for longer periods, the Popes made sojourn there,
whenever--a by no means uncommon occurrence--popular disturbances
expelled them from Rome. Victor II. died in Florence in 1057, and had
held a council there two years before; in 1058 Stephen IX. drew his
last breath there; three years later Nicholas II. and his cardinals
stayed in the town pending the election of Alexander II. Full of Roman
traditions and monuments, in continual relation with the Eternal City,
Florence was subject to its influence from the earliest times, and
showed the Guelph and religious tendencies afterwards increasingly
prominent in the course of her history. Towards the close of the tenth
century many new churches arose within and without the city walls. At
the beginning of the eleventh century the construction of an edifice
such as San Miniato al Monte, in addition to the other churches
built about the same period, affords indubitable proof of awakening
prosperity and religious zeal. In fact, Florence now became one of the
chief centres of the movement in favour of monastic reform that, after
its first manifestation at Cluny, spread so widely on all sides. St.
Giovanni Gualberto, of Florentine birth, who died in 1073, inaugurated
the reformed Benedictine order known by the name of Vallombrosa, in
which place he founded his celebrated cloister, and subjected many of
the monasteries near Florence to the same rule.
[Illustration: ATTACK ON THE MONKS OF S. SALVI.
(_Bas-relief by Benedetto da Rovezzano in the National Museum,
Florence._)
[_To face page 74._]
Before long this religious and monastic zeal burnt so fiercely in
Florence, that when its bishop, Pietro da Pavia, was accused of simony,
all the people rose against him. The friars declared that he owed his
high office to the favour of the emperor, and of Duke Goffredo and
Beatrice his wife, and that he had bought their protection at a
very heavy price. The multitude sided with the friars, and the quarrel
was carried on for five years (1063-68), and with so much heat as
to lead to bloodshed. The bishop, enraged by these accusations, and
emboldened by the duke's favour, caused an armed attack to be made on
the monastery of San Salvi near Florence. The first promoter of the
religious movement, St. Giovanni Gualberto, was, fortunately for him,
elsewhere at the time; but his altars were pillaged and several of his
monks injured. This incident naturally added fuel to the fire, and St.
Giovanni Gualberto, who had already inflamed men's minds by preaching
in the city streets, now cast aside all reserve, and openly declared
that no priests consecrated by a simoniacal bishop were real members
of the clergy. The popular excitement rose to so high a pitch, that it
is asserted that about a thousand persons preferred to die unassoiled,
rather than receive the sacrament from priests ordained by a bishop
guilty of simony.[75] Strange though it seem, this was by no means
incredible in times of earnest religious faith!
Pope Alexander II. vainly endeavoured to pacify the people; vainly
sent the pious, learned, and eloquent St. Pier Damiano to achieve that
end. The holy man came with the words of peace, afterwards repeated in
his letters addressed to _Dilectis in Christo civibus florentinis_. He
censured simony, but likewise blamed too easy credence of the charge.
It were better, he said, for the Florentines to send representatives to
the Synod in Rome, whose authority would decide the quarrel; meanwhile
they must remain quiet, without yielding to the blind and heinous
illusion that had left so many to die without the "sacraments" to their
souls' peril. Woe to those who seek to be juster than the just, wiser
than the wise. Through too great zeal, they end by joining the foes of
the Church. Croaking even as frogs (_velut ranae in paludibus_), they
throw everything into confusion, and may be likened to the plague of
locusts in Egypt, since they bring equal destruction on the Church.[76]
This movement much resembled that carried on about the same time by
the Patarini in Milan against the simony of the archbishop. There
too, as in Florence, St. Pier Damiano played the part of peacemaker,
and there also many preferred to die unassoiled, rather than take the
sacrament from simoniacal priests.[77] But, despite the resemblance
of the two insurrections, they led to different final results, owing
to the different conditions of the two cities, and the very diverse
attitude respectively assumed towards them by the Court of Rome. At any
rate, the exhortations of St. Pier Damiano had no effect in Florence.
The Vallombrosa monks sent representatives to Rome, but only to declare
before the Council, then in session, their readiness to decide the
question by appeal to the judgment of God. Not only was their proposal
rejected by Pope and Council, but they were also severely censured for
suggesting it, although the Archdeacon Hildebrand, there present, who
had already risen to great authority in the Church, tried to defend
them, as he had previously defended the Patarini of Milan. The Council
ordered the monks to withdraw to their monasteries, and abide in them
quietly, without daring again to inflame minds already unduly excited.
St. Giovanni Gualberto would have obeyed willingly now; but it was too
late: he could no longer quell the storm he had raised. For when the
populace heard of what the monks had proposed in Rome, they insisted
on the ordeal by fire. The champion chosen for the purpose, already
prepared and impatient to stand the test, was a certain Brother Pietro,
of Vallombrosa, afterwards known by the name of Pietro Igneo, who,
according to some writers, had been cowherd to the monastery, although
others assert him to have belonged to the noble family of the Counts
Aldobrandeschi of Sovana. Guglielmo, surnamed Bulguro, of the Counts of
Borgonuovo, offered the monks a free arena for the ordeal, close to the
Abbey of San Salvatore, in his patronage, at Settimo, five miles from
Florence.[78] The bishop, however, not only rejected the challenge with
indignation, but obtained a decree to the effect that whoever, whether
of the Church or the laity, should refuse to obey his authority, the
same would be seized, bound, and _not led, but dragged_ before the
chief of the city.[79] Likewise the goods of all persons having fled
in alarm were to be confiscated by the _Potestà_, that is, by Duke
Goffredo, who favoured the bishop. Meanwhile, certain rebellious
ecclesiastics who had sought refuge in an oratory,[80] were driven from
it by force. Naturally, these measures only increased the heat of the
popular fury. Pietro Igneo declared his readiness to pass through the
fire, and, if need be, alone. On February 13, 1068, an enormous crowd
of men, women (some about to be mothers), old people, and children, set
forth to Settimo, chanting prayers and psalms by the way. There, by the
Badia, two piles of wood were fired, and, as related by one who claims
to have witnessed the sight, the friar passed through the roaring
flames miraculously unhurt. This aroused an indescribable enthusiasm;
the sky echoed with cries of joy, and Pietro Igneo, though unscathed by
the fire, was nearly crushed to death by the throng pressing round him
to kiss the hem of his robe. With great difficulty, and only by main
force, some ecclesiastics succeeded in rescuing him.[81] The news flew
to Rome with lightning speed, and then, when all the details reached
the Pope's ear, he was compelled to bow to the miracle. The bishop of
Florence retired to a monastery; Pietro Igneo was named cardinal, made
bishop of Albano, and worshipped as a saint after his death.
[Illustration: MIRACLE OF SAN GIOVANNI GUALBERTO.
(_Bas-relief by Benedetto da Rovezzano in the National Museum,
Florence._)
[_To face page 78._]
This reminds us of the other ordeal by fire proposed in Florence in
1498, and that led to Savonarola's martyrdom, shortly before the
fall of the Republic, of which the birth and death would thus seem to
have been preluded by similar events. For, albeit the account of the
affair may have been exaggerated by party feeling and superstition,
and although the terms of "Preside" and "Podestà" employed in the old
narrative only indicate in a general way the ruling powers in Florence
at the time, all shows that a new state of society had begun. We find
that there was a Duke of Tuscany, a military president, apparently
his representative in the city, and, what is more, a people which,
though only appearing as a fanatic mob, is plainly conscious at last
of its own strength, since it struggles against the bishop, resists
both the duke and the Pope, and finally obtains what it desires. In
addressing the Pope it assumes the title of _populus florentinus_; and
is addressed by St. Pier Damiano as _cives florentini_. It is true,
of course, that these were mere forms of speech imitated from the
ancients; assuredly the Commune was still unborn, and much time had
yet to elapse before its rise; but an entirely new condition of things
had begun, in which the elements conducing to its rise were already in
course of preparation. Accordingly, we must now retrace our steps, in
order to study the question more closely.
[Illustration]