was formerly your head and guide and is still your fellow-citizen--or
shall I say your exile?--is thus persecuted, I must dwell upon a
circumstance of which you may already be aware, but which is none the
less astounding and intolerable. He is accused not of betraying but of
defending liberty; he is guilty not of surrendering but of holding the
Capitol. The supreme crime with which he is charged, and which merits
expiation on the scaffold, is that he dared affirm that the Roman
Empire is still at Rome, and in possession of the Roman people. Oh
impious age! Oh preposterous jealousy, malevolence unprecedented! What
doest thou, O Christ, ineffable and incorruptible judge of all? Where
are thine eyes with which thou art wont to scatter the clouds of human
misery? Why dost thou turn them away? Why dost thou not, with thy
forked lightning, put an end to this unholy trial? Even though we be
not deserving, look upon us, have pity upon us! Behold our enemies (who
are not less thine), for they are multiplied, and they hate us even
as they hate thee, with a cruel hate. Judge, we beseech thee, between
our cause and theirs, unlike in every respect. From thy mouth let our
judgment go forth; let thine eyes behold equity.
That one nation, or indeed that all nations, as we perceive, should
have desired to withdraw themselves from that easiest and most just
of all yokes, the yoke of Rome, need not surprise nor anger us, since
there is in the souls of all mortals an innate love of liberty.
Inadvisable and premature this desire may often be, and those whom
shame forbids to obey their superiors ofttimes command but ill, and
might better have submitted to be led. In this way all things are
thrown into a state of turmoil and confusion; and in place of a
suitable dominion we not infrequently find an unworthy subjection;
instead of a dignified subordination, an unjust authority. Were this
otherwise, human affairs would be upon a better footing, and the world,
its head erect, would be vigorous still.
If this cannot be accepted upon my authority, experience may be
trusted. When have we seen such peace, such tranquillity, such justice,
such glory of well-doing, such rewards for virtue, such punishments for
evil,--when did such order reign in all things, as when the world had
but a single head, and that head Rome? It was that time which God, who
loves peace and justice, chose above all others to humble himself to be
born of the Virgin and to visit our earth. To each body is given its
respective head; so the whole world, which the poet calls "the great
body," should content itself with a single temporal head. A creature
with two heads is a monster; how much more horrid and frightful a
prodigy is a being with a thousand separate heads, wrangling among
themselves and tearing each other. But if there must be several heads,
there certainly should be one which is above the others and controls
everything, so that the whole body may remain at peace. It is a truth
amply proved by innumerable experiences, and supported by the authority
of the most learned, that in heaven and on earth unity of rule has
always been best. That God Omnipotent has willed that the supreme head
should be no other than Rome, he has shown by a thousand signs, for he
has rendered Rome worthy, by the glory of both peace and war, and has
granted her a preëminence of power, marvellous and unexampled.
Although this be true, yet if in the past a nation, following the
custom of the human heart, which daily rejoices in its own evil, has,
as I have said, chosen to embrace a harmful and doubtful liberty rather
than accept the safe and advantageous dominion of the common mother,
it may still be pardoned for its audacity or stupidity. But who can,
without scandal, hear the question raised among learned men whether
the Roman Empire is at Rome? Must we assume, then, that the Parthian,
the Persian, and the Median kingdoms remain with the Parthians, the
Persians, and the Medes, respectively, but that the Roman Empire
wanders about? Who can stomach such an absurdity? Who will not, rather,
vomit it up and utterly reject it? If the Roman Empire is not at Rome,
pray where is it? If it is anywhere else than at Rome it is no longer
the Empire of the Romans, but belongs to those with whom an erratic
fate has left it. Although the Roman generals were, owing to the
exigencies of the Republic, often engaged with their armies in the far
east or extreme west, or found themselves in the regions of Boreas or
of Auster, the Roman dominion in the meantime was at Rome, and Rome
it was which determined whether the Roman generals merited reward or
punishment. It was determined upon the Capitol who should be honoured,
who punished, who should enter the city as a private citizen, who with
the honours of an ovation or of a triumph. Even after the tyranny, or,
as we prefer to say, the monarchy, of Julius Cæsar was established,
the Roman rulers, although they were assigned a place in the council
of the gods themselves, continued, as we well know, to ask the consent
of the Senate or of the Roman people in the conduct of the government,
and according as that permission was granted or refused they proceeded
with, or desisted from, their proposed action. Emperors may, therefore,
wander about, but the Empire is fixed and forever immovable. And we may
well infer that it was no temporary site but its eternal place to which
Virgil refers when he says:
While on the rock-fast Capitol Æneas' house abides, And
while the Roman Father still the might of Empire guides.[3]
... It was, however, also a Roman who wrote, "All that is born dies,
and that which increases grows old." Nor does it distress me that
Fortune exercises her prerogatives in your case as well as in that of
others, and, in order plainly to show that she is mistress of human
affairs, fears not to lay hands upon the very head of the world. I
well know her violence and her inconstancy. Still, I cannot endure the
idle boasts of certain unbridled nations, and the insolent conduct of
those whose neck long bore the yoke of Rome. To pass over many other
outrageous themes of discussion, they raise the question--oh, unhappy
and shameful suggestion!--whether the Roman Empire is at Rome.
It is indeed true that upon a spot now covered with trackless forest
royal palaces may some time arise; and where to-day stand halls
resplendent with gold, the hungry flocks may some time pasture, and the
wandering shepherds occupy the apartments of kings. I do not depreciate
the power of Fortune. As she has obliterated other cities, so, with
no more effort, if with greater ruin, she may destroy the queen of
cities. Alas, she has already partially accomplished this; but she can
never bring it about that the Roman Empire can be anywhere else than at
Rome, for as soon as it is anywhere else it ceases to be Roman.
This your unfortunate fellow-citizen has maintained, and will not deny
that he still maintains; and this constitutes the terrible crime for
which his life is endangered. He claims that his assertion is based
upon the opinion of many wise men, nor do I think that he is wrong. He
further entreats that counsel and the opportunity to defend himself
be granted him. This is refused; and, without divine mercy and your
support, he is undone; innocent and defenceless, he will be condemned.
Almost everyone pities him; there is scarcely one who is not distressed
for him, except those whose duty it is to be compassionate, to forgive
the erring, and to feel no envy toward virtue. Distinguished lawyers
are not wanting here who claim that this same proposition can be most
clearly proved by the civil law. Others maintain that they could cite
many and weighty references in the histories, which go to substantiate
this opinion, if it were only permitted them to speak freely. But no
one now dares to hint a word of this, except in a corner, or timidly
and in secret. Even I who write this to you, although I might not
refuse to die for the truth, if my death would seem to promise any
advantage to the Republic,--even I now keep my peace, and do not affix
my name to this present communication, believing that the style itself
will suffice to indicate the writer, though I may add that it is a
Roman citizen who speaks.[4] But if the matter should be considered
in a place of safety, before a just judge, and not in the tribunal of
our enemies, I hope, with the truth illuminating my intellect, and God
directing my speech or pen, to be able to say that which will render
it clearer than day that the Roman Empire, although long wasted and
oppressed by the attacks of fortune, and occupied in turn by Spaniards,
Africans, Greeks, Gauls, and Germans, still exists; that it is at
Rome, not elsewhere; and that it will always remain there, although
absolutely nothing of that great city should be left except the naked
rock of the Capitol. I will prove, further, that even before we were
ruled by foreigners, and while the Roman Cæsars still held the power,
all the authority of the Empire was lodged, not in them, but in the
citadel of the Capitol and in the Roman people....[5]
Bear such aid, then, as you can and ought, to your Tribune, or, if
that title is extinguished, to your fellow-citizen, who has merited
well at the hands of the Republic; first and foremost, because he has
raised a great and important question which had been lost sight of and
neglected for centuries, and which indicates the only means toward
a reformation of the state and the ushering in of the golden age.
Succour this man! Do not neglect the safety of one who has incurred
a thousand perils and subjected himself to eternal despite in your
behalf. Consider his spirit and his purpose, and remember the former
state of your affairs, and how quickly the advice and efforts of a
single man excited a wonderful hope, not only in Rome, but throughout
Italy. Remember how speedily the Italian name and the glory of Rome
were elevated and purified; remember the fear and disappointment
of your enemies, the joy of your friends, the anticipations of the
people; how the course of events was altered, how the whole universe
assumed a new aspect, and the disposition of men's minds was changed.
Among all the revolutions under heaven none has been so wonderful and
astounding as this. For seven months, not longer, he held the reins
of the Republic by an effort which in my judgment finds scarcely a
parallel in the whole history of the world; and had he continued as he
began he would have accomplished a divine rather than a human work.
Indeed, whatever man does well is the work of God. There is, then, no
doubt that this man, who is known to have acted for your glory and
not to satisfy his own ambition, deserves your favour. You must blame
Fortune for the outcome. If his original fervour gave way to a certain
lethargy, forgive this in the name of human inconstancy and weakness,
and save your fellow-citizen while you may from his enemies; you, who
formerly protected the Greeks from the Macedonians, the Sicilians from
the Carthaginians, the Campanians from the Samnites, and the Etrurians
from the Gauls, and that not without serious peril to yourselves.
Your resources are, I confess, no longer what they once were, but never
did your fathers show such valour as when Roman poverty, which forms
the wealth of virtue, flourished. Your power is less, that I do not
forget; but believe me, if a drop of the old blood still flows in your
veins, you may yet enjoy no little majesty and no trifling authority.
Venture somewhat, I adjure you, in memory of past greatness, in the
name of the ashes and fame of your ancestors, in the name of the
Empire, in the name of Jesus Christ, who bade us love our neighbour
and aid the afflicted. Have courage, I beseech you, above all in a
matter where your petition is honourable, and silence shameful and
unbecoming. If not for his welfare, dare to do something for the
sake of your own reputation, if you would still count for anything.
There is nothing less Roman than fear. I forewarn you that if you are
afraid, if you despise yourselves, others, too, will despise you; no
one will fear you. But if you once begin to desire not to be scorned
you will be feared far and wide, as has often been proved in the past,
and but lately, also, when that ruler to whom I refer was governing
the Republic. You have but to speak as one; let the world recognise
that the Roman people has but a single voice, and no one will reject
or scorn their words; everyone will respect or fear them. Claim the
captive, or demand justice; one or the other will be conceded to you.
And you, who once by a trifling embassy freed a King of Egypt besieged
by the Syrians, free now your fellow-citizen from a shameful prison.
1: _Ep. sine Titulo_, iv. (Also in Fracassetti's _App. Lit_., No. 1.)
2: Rienzo was accused of heresy, and it was quite in accord with the
jurisprudence of the inquisition to refuse him counsel.
3: _Æneid_, ix., 448, 449, as translated by William Morris. Petrarch
here makes an excursus in order to free Virgil from the reproach of
Augustine, who asserts that the poet mendaciously promises (_Æneid_,
i., 278, 279) the Romans an endless empire. These words, Petrarch
points out, were discreetly put into Jove's mouth, whereas, when
speaking for himself, Virgil refers (_Georgics_, ii., 498) to _res
Romanæ perituraque regna._
4: Petrarch had been made a citizen of Rome at the time of his
coronation.
5: Petrarch, in the passage which follows, urges the Romans to procure
the transfer of Rienzo's case to Rome, or at least to demand that he
shall be granted a public audience and a fair trial.
* * * * *
Some two years after Rienzo's retirement, Petrarch addressed his first
letter to Charles of Bohemia, who already enjoyed the title of King of
the Romans, but had not yet been crowned Emperor at Rome, as was then
customary. While we cannot attempt to analyse the anomalous character
of this historically important personage, it will nevertheless be
readily and justly inferred that little real sympathy could exist
between our ardent southern _doctrinaire_ and the sober northern
ruler. Petrarch was too thoroughly Italian really to respect Charles
personally. He could never place unreserved confidence in a German
from the cold north, "where there is no noble ardour or vital heat
of empire."[1] To his fellow-countryman, Rienzo, had been drawn both
by the hope of seeing Rome once more supreme and, as we have seen,
by natural affinity, and a common fiery enthusiasm for the mighty
lessons of antiquity. Charles enlisted his interest only as the titular
successor of the Cæsars. The vitality, and, it must be admitted, the
absurdity, of Petrarch's political theories are clearly seen in his
long correspondence with the Emperor. He clung to his ideal with such
tenacity that he continued to despatch appeal after appeal across the
Alps, in spite of deluded hopes and disappointments which might well
have appeared decisive.[2]
The letters shed little or no light upon the conditions of the times,
or upon the interrelations of the Italian states. We hear of Veii
and of the Samnites, but the writer passes over the more pertinent
Florence and the Visconti in silence. In one instance only does he
refer to existing conditions. The success of Rienzo is cited with a
hope of rousing the King's emulation.[3] If Peace and Justice and
their inseparable companions, Good Faith and sweet Security, returned
at the call of the Tribune, how much might not justly be expected
from the spell of the imperial name? Charles was to free the Italians
from slavery, to reinstate justice, now prostituted to avarice, and
once more to bring back peace, long fallen into utter oblivion.[4]
No more complete or specific program is offered; the poet satisfies
himself with the constant reiteration of the eternal fitness of Rome's
headship. This had satisfied many generations of political writers;
it is the central idea of mediæval thought, whether in the field of
secular or ecclesiastical political speculation. Petrarch adds nothing
to it, and the chief interest in his messages is, perhaps, their
conservatism. His study of the classics did not modify but served
only to intensify the current conception. For him there was no mean
between the traditional anachronism of a world-monarchy and the petty,
unscrupulous, restless despotisms about him.
In one respect, however, Petrarch advanced beyond the fruitless
repetition of old fantastic theory, for he viewed Charles not only as
Emperor of the Holy Roman Empire but as a new Augustus, a patron of
literature. Upon receiving a letter from his royal friend he exclaims,
"If it was deemed a glorious thing for Virgil and Horace to gain the
notice and companionship of Cæsar Augustus and to receive his letters,
why should not I, their successor, not indeed in merit but in time, and
perhaps in the opinion of men,--why should not I feel justly proud to
be similarly distinguished by Augustus' successor?"[5] The tribute here
implied to the Emperor's interest in letters was by no means entirely
unmerited. Petrarch, as we have repeatedly seen, was strongly attached
to the rulers of his day, in whom he either discovered, or quickly
aroused, a certain enthusiasm for the new culture. They came to relish
the society of men of letters, and to extend to them their princely
patronage, during the long humanistic epoch of which he was the herald.
1: _Fam._, xx., 2 (vol. iii., p. 9).
2: The senselessness of anticipating good from the arrival of the
Emperor is bitterly dwelt upon in _De Remediis Utriusque Fortunæ_, book
i., chap. 116.
3: _Fam_., xviii. (vol. ii., p. 464).
4: _Fam_., xviii. (vol. ii., p. 468).
5: _Fam._, xxiii., 2 (vol. iii., p. 184).
* * * * *
_To Charles IV., Emperor August of the Romans._[1]
My letter, most serene Emperor, when it considers its origin, whence it
proceeds and whither it is bound, is filled with dread at the thought
of the gulf over which it must pass. Born in the shadow of obscurity,
what wonder if it is dazzled by the brilliancy of your splendid name?
But love casteth out fear: it will, as it ventures into the light of
your presence, at least serve to bear to you the message of my faithful
affection. Read, then, I pray you, Glory of our Age, read! for you need
fear no empty flattery, that common affliction of kings, so irksome
and hateful to you. The art of adulation is repugnant to my character;
prepare rather to listen to my lamentations, for you are now to be
disturbed not by compliments but by complaints.
Why do you forget us--nay, forget yourself, if I may be pardoned for
so speaking? How is it that your Italy no longer enjoys your watchful
care? We have long placed our hope in you, as one sent to us from
heaven, who would speedily re-establish our liberty; but you have
forsaken us, and, when action is most essential, you occupy your time
in lengthy deliberations.--You will perceive, Cæsar, how frankly I
dare to address you, though a person insignificant and unknown. Be not
offended at my boldness, I beseech you, but congratulate yourself upon
the possession of a nature which can arouse this confidence in me.
To revert to the question in hand, why do you spend your time in mere
consultation, as if master of the future? Do you not know how abruptly
the most important matter may reach a crisis? A day may bring forth
what has been preparing for centuries. Believe me, if you but consider
your own reputation, and the condition of the state, you will clearly
perceive that neither your interests nor ours require longer delay.
What is more fleeting and uncertain than life? Although you are now
at the height of manly vigour, your strength will not endure, but is
slipping from you steadily and apace. Each day carries you insensibly
toward old age. You hesitate and look about you; ere you are aware,
your hair will be white. Can you apprehend that you are premature in
undertaking a task for which, as you must know, the longest life would
scarcely suffice? The business before you is no common or trifling
affair. The Roman Empire, long harassed by storms, and again and
again deluded in its hopes of safety, has at last placed its waning
reliance in your uprightness and devotion. After a thousand perils, it
ventures. under the protection of your name, to breathe once more; but
hope alone cannot long sustain it. You must realise how great and how
holy a burden of responsibility you have assumed. Press on, we exhort
you, to the goal, with the utmost speed!
Time is so precious, nay, so inestimable a possession, that it is
the one thing which the learned agree can justify avarice. So cast
hesitation to the winds and, as behooves one who is entering upon a
momentous task, count every day a priceless opportunity. Let this
thought make you frugal of time, and induce you to come to our rescue,
and show the light of your august countenance, for which we long
amidst the clouds of our adversity. Let not solicitude for Transalpine
affairs, nor the love of your native soil, detain you; but whenever you
look upon Germany, think of Italy. There you were born, here you were
nurtured; there you enjoy a kingdom, here both a kingdom and an empire;
and, as I believe I may, with the consent of all nations and peoples,
safely add, while the members of the Empire are everywhere, here you
will find the head itself. There must, however, be no slothfulness if
you would reach the desired result, for it will prove no small matter
to re-unite all these precious fragments into a single body.
I well know that novelty always excites suspicion, but you are not
summoned to an unknown land. Italy is no less familiar to you than
Germany itself. Pledged to us by divine favour from your childhood,
you followed, with extraordinary ability, the footsteps of your
illustrious father.[2] Under his guidance you made yourself acquainted
with the Italian cities, the customs of the people, the configuration
of the land, and mastered in this way the first principles of your
glorious profession. Here, while still a boy, and with a prowess more
than mortal, you gained many a famous victory. Yet great as were these
deeds they but foreshadowed greater things; since, as a man, you could
not look with apprehension upon a country which had afforded you, as
a youth, the opportunity for such signal triumphs. You could forecast
from the auspicious results of your first campaign what you might, as
Emperor, anticipate upon the same field.
Moreover, Italy has never awaited the coming of any foreign prince
with more joy; for not only is there no one else to whom she can look
for the healing of her wounds, but your yoke she does not regard as
that of an alien. Thus your majesty, although you may not be aware of
it, enjoys a peculiar position in our eyes.--Why should I fear to say
frankly what I think, and what will, I am confident, appear to you
as true?--By the marvellous favour of God our own national character
is once more restored to us, after so many centuries, in you, our
Augustus. Let the Germans claim you for themselves, if they please;
we look upon you as an Italian. Hasten then, as I have so often said,
and must continue to say, hasten! I know that the acts of the Cæsars
delight you,--and rightly, for you are one of them. The founder of
the Empire moved, it is reported, with such rapidity that he often
arrived before the messengers sent to announce his coming. Follow his
example. Strive to rival in deeds him whom you equal in rank. Do not
longer deprive Italy, which deserves well of you, of your presence.
Do not cool our enthusiasm by continued delay and the despatch of
messengers. It is you whom we desire, it is your celestial countenance
that we ask to behold. If you love virtue (I address our Charles as
Cicero addressed Julius Cæsar), and thirst for glory--for you will not
disclaim this thirst, wise though you be--do not, I beseech you, shun
exertion. For he who escapes effort escapes both glory and virtue,
which are never attained but by a steep and laborious path. Arise then
and gird up your loins, for we know you to be eager for true praise and
ready for noble toil.