WOMEN IN THE EARLY RENAISSANCE
Although the fourteenth century in Italy was one of almost continuous
warfare between the different contending states of the peninsula, the
fact remains that the whole country was enjoying a degree of prosperity
which was unprecedented in the history of the Italian people. It was the
beginning of the age of the despots, it is true, but in the midst of
strife and contention there was at the same time a material progress
which did much to enrich the country and enable its inhabitants to
elevate their standard of living. The Italian cities were encouraging
business transactions on a large scale; Italian merchants were among the
most enterprising on the continent, making long trips to foreign
countries for the purpose of buying and selling goods; and the Oriental
trade, which had been diverted in great measure to Italian channels, was
a constant source of profit. That all this could be so in the face of
the warlike condition of society is due to the fact that much of the
fighting was done by mercenary soldiers, or that the political quarrels
of the time, which frequently concerned the fate of cities, too often
had their rise in family feuds which, no matter how fiercely they were
waged, did not interest the masses. There were always thousands upon
thousands of worthy citizens who felt no direct personal interest in the
outcome of the fighting, and who pursued the even tenor of their way
without much regard for what was taking place, so far as allowing it to
interfere with their daily occupations was concerned.
The general impression of the moral tone of this epoch in society is far
from favorable. Divorce had become practically impossible for ordinary
individuals; marriage was common enough, but appeared to possess no
special sanctity; and as a result there were many illegitimate children,
who seem, however, to have been recognized by their fathers and cared
for with as great solicitude as were those who were born within the pale
of the law. The ideas which were current regarding matters of decency
and refinement will be found quite different from those prevalent in our
own day. Coarseness in speech and manner was common, no high moral
standards were maintained, even by the Church, and diplomacy and
calculation took the place of sincerity and conscience. Still, while
these may have been the characteristics of a considerable number of the
population, the fact must not be forgotten that even in that day of
moral laxity there were many good and simple people who lived their
homely lives in peace and quiet and contentment, unmoved by the rush of
the world. We get a glimpse of what this simple life may have been from
a charming little book by Pandolfino called _La Famiglia_, wherein the
joys of family life are depicted in a most idyllic manner. The story
deals with the beginning of the married life of a young couple; and we
are shown how the husband takes the wife to his house after the wedding
has been celebrated, displays to her his worldly possessions, and then
turns them over to her keeping. After visiting the establishment and
giving it a careful inspection, they kneel before the little shrine of
the Madonna, which is near at hand, and there they pray devoutly that
they may be given grace to profit by all their blessings, and that they
may live long years together in peace and harmony, and the prayer ends
with the wish that they may have many male children. The young wife is
later advised not to paint her face, and to pay no attention to other
men. There is no injunction to secrecy with regard to family affairs of
importance, inasmuch as Pandolfino says very frankly that he doubts the
ability of a woman to keep a secret, and that, while he is perfectly
willing to grant that his wife is loving and discreet, he feels a much
greater sense of security when he _knows_ she is unable to do him any
harm. His quaint phrase is as follows: _Non perche io non conoscessi la
mia amarevole e discreta, ma sempre estimai piu securo ch'ella non mi
potesse nuocere che ella non volesse._
The material conditions for happiness--and they are certainly no
unimportant factor--were wonderfully advanced, and the common people of
Italy at this time were enjoying many comforts of life which were
unknown to the higher classes in other countries. The houses were
generally large and of stone, supplies were plentiful and cheap, and,
all in all, it appears to have been an age of abundance. It was
customary for the housewives to lay in a supply of oil and wine for the
year; they were most careful in regard to all matters of domestic
economy and took a pride in their work. Indeed, Burckhardt has said that
from this epoch dates the first conscious attempt to regulate the
affairs of a household in a systematic way, and to this end it is
interesting to note that bridal outfits were prepared with unusual care,
special attention being given to the supply of household linen, which
was sometimes elaborate. As a further aid to orderly housekeeping, it
was often the custom for the wives to keep a careful account of daily
expenditures, which they did with a skill that would doubtless cause the
despair of many a modern housewife who has attempted the same thing. It
must not be supposed, however, that the course of this domestic life was
without annoyance, as even here at this early day servants were inclined
to be exacting and hard to please. At least, that is the inference which
may be drawn from a letter by an old notary of Florence, Lapo Mazzei,
wherein he takes occasion to say, in inviting a friend to supper, that
it will be entirely convenient to have him come, inasmuch as he has
taken the precaution, in order not to trouble the house servants, to
send to the bakery to be roasted a fat pullet and a loin of mutton!
Some of the customs of this time will seem to us quite primitive. It was
an unheard-of thing, for example, to see carriages going about the
streets, as they had not yet come into general use, and riding on
horseback was the ordinary means of locomotion, even for ladies. Indeed,
mention has been found in one of the early historians of an adventure
which befell Louisa Strozzi, a daughter of the great Florentine house of
Strozzi, as she was returning to her home, from a ball in the early
morning hours, _on horseback_. It seems to have been the custom then, as
now, to give balls which lasted far into the night, and the growing
wealth of the citizens caused an increasing love of display. In some
communities laws were enacted in the interests of simplicity, and it was
provided that not more than three dishes should be supplied for an
ordinary entertainment, while twenty was the largest number which might
be served at a wedding feast. With regard to matters of dress, Scipio
Ammirato tells us in his sixteenth-century _History of Florence_ that in
the earliest times the women had the simplest tastes and were "much more
soft and delicate than the men," and he adds that "the greatest ornament
of the most noble and wealthy woman of Florence was no other than a
tight-fitting skirt of bright scarlet, without other girdle than a belt
of antique style, and a mantle lined with black and white." Such
simplicity, however, cannot have been long in vogue, for as early as
1323 the chronicler Villani informs us that the city authorities began
to enact stringent sumptuary laws which were directed against the women.
Three years after this, we learn from the same source that the Duke of
Milan had made complaint because the women of Florence had induced his
wife to wear, "in front of her face," a most unsightly knot of yellow
and white silk, in place of her own curls, a style of head-dress already
condemned by the city fathers of Florence. After this incident, the
historian adds, by way of sententious remark: "Thus did the excessive
appetite of the women defeat the reason and sense of the men." These
laws of the year 1323 failed to prove effective, and finally, in 1330,
more explicit measures were taken to check this growing evil. Villani
had now best tell the story in his own words:
"The women of Florence were greatly at fault in the matter of
superfluous ornaments, of crowns and wreaths of gold and silver and
pearls and of other precious stones, and certain garlands of pearls, and
other ornaments for the head, and of great price. Likewise they had
dresses cut of several kinds of cloth and silk, with silken puffs of
divers kinds, and with fringes of pearls, and little gold and silver
buttons, often of four and six rows together. It was also their custom
to wear various strings of pearls and of precious stones at the breast,
with different designs and letters. Likewise did they give costly
entertainments and wedding parties, extravagant and with superfluous and
excessive table." In the midst of this deplorable state of affairs, an
ordinance was passed forbidding women to wear crowns of any kind, even
of painted paper; dresses of more than one piece and dresses with either
painted or embroidered figures were forbidden, though woven figures
were permitted. Also, bias patterns and stripes were put under the ban,
excepting only those of not more than two colors. It was decided,
furthermore, that more than two rings on a finger should not be
tolerated. Other cities of Italy, having the same trouble to contend
with, sent deputations to Florence asking for a copy of these
regulations; this attempt on the part of the cities to control the
habits of their citizens in these matters seems to have been quite
general.
In matters of education more attention was paid to the boys than to the
girls at this time, as the women were generally expected to let the men
attend to the chief affairs of life, while they busied themselves with
domestic duties. Still, it is on record that in the year 1338 there were
from eight to ten thousand boys and girls in school in the city of
Florence, learning to read. Among the people of the wealthy class and of
the nobility, women were undoubtedly given greater educational
advantages in many instances; and then again, in strictly academic
circles, the daughters of a professor sometimes distinguished themselves
for great learning and scholarship. It was at the University of Bologna
in particular that women seem to have been most conspicuous in
educational affairs, and here it was that a number of them were actually
allowed to wear the robe of a professor and lecture to the students.
Among the number famed for their learning may be mentioned Giovanna
Bianchetti and Maddalena Buonsignori, who gave instruction in law. The
latter was the author of a small Latin treatise of some reputation,
entitled _De legibus connubialis_, and the character of this legal work
reveals the fact that she must have been much interested in the women of
her time, for she has made here in some detail a study of their legal
status from certain points of view. No list of this kind would be
complete without mention of Novella d'Andrea, who was perhaps the best
known of all these learned women, for to her erudition was added a most
marvellous beauty which alone would have been sufficient, perhaps, to
hand her name down to posterity. Her father was a professor of canonical
law at the University of Bologna, and there it was that she became his
assistant, and on several occasions delivered lectures in his stead. At
such times it was her custom, if the tradition be true, to speak from
behind a high screen, as she had found out from experience that the
students were so bewildered by her grace and charm, when she stood
openly before them, that they were in no mood for serious study, but
gazed at her the while in undisguised admiration.
However pleasurable it may prove to reflect upon this peaceful scene,
the fact must not be forgotten that more women were aiding men, directly
or indirectly, to break laws than to make them, for many of the most
bitter feuds and controversies of the time were waged about a woman.
Bianchina, the wife of Vergusio Landi, seduced by the great Galeazzo
Visconti, who had been her husband's friend and ally, became the cause
of a most ferocious war which was waged between the cities of Milan and
Piacenza; Virginia Galucci, abducted by Alberto Carbonesi, brought about
a long-standing hostility between these two families and caused much
blood to be spilled; many other instances might be cited which would
reveal the same state of affairs. A few of the most remarkable of these
feuds have been deemed worthy of more extended notice, and the first
among the number concerns the quarrel between the Buondelmonti and the
Amedei, in Florence, in the thirteenth century. Buondelmonte de'
Buondelmonti, a young nobleman from the upper Val d'Arno and a member of
the Guelph party, was to marry a daughter of the house of Amedei,
staunch Ghibelline supporters, and the wedding day was fast approaching;
one day the young Guelph was met upon the street by a lady of the Donati
family, also a Guelph, who reproached him for his intended union with
one of the hated party, and urged him to marry her own daughter, Ciulla,
who was far more desirable. The sight of the fair Donati was too much
for the quick passions of Buondelmonte; he fell in love with her at
once, and straightway repudiated his former plan of marriage. It may
well be imagined that the Amedei were enraged at this; the powerful
Uberti and all the other Ghibelline families in Florence, about
twenty-four in all, joined with them, and they swore to kill the fickle
young lover on sight. On Easter morning, they lay in wait for the
handsome but heedless young Buondelmonte at the north end of the Ponte
Vecchio; and when he appeared, boldly riding without an escort, all
clothed in white and upon a milk-white steed, they fell upon him and
struck him to the ground, and left him dying there, his Easter tunic
dripping with his blood. Their savage yell of triumph over this
assassination was not the end, but the beginning, for forty-two Guelph
families immediately took up the quarrel and swore to avenge the death
of their comrade, and for more than thirty years the strife continued.
The story of Imelda de' Lambertazzi is even more tragic in its results,
as here the woman has to suffer as well as the man, and in its general
outlines this incident recalls many of the features of _Romeo and
Juliet_, though there is no evidence that Shakespeare used it in any
way, but rather confined his attention to the traditional story of the
lovers of Verona. The Lambertazzi were a noble family of Bologna, and
the daughter of the house had long been wooed most ardently by Bonifacio
de' Geremei, whose family was in deadly feud with her own. Yielding
finally to his entreaties, she allowed him to come to see her in her own
apartments; but there they were surprised by her two brothers, who
considered his presence as an affront offered not only to their sister,
but to their house. Imelda barely had time to escape before the two men
rushed upon Bonifacio, who was powerless to defend himself. With
poisoned daggers, whose secret had been learned from the Saracens by the
Crusaders, he was speedily stabbed to the heart, and then dragged into a
dark corner beneath a winding staircase. After seeing her brothers leave
the palace, Imelda returned to discover her lover's fate, while they
rushed off to raise a hue and cry and plan for further deeds of
violence. Imelda found the room where she had left the struggling men
empty, but, following the drops of blood upon the floor, she soon came
to the lifeless body hidden away. Drawing it out to the light, she found
that it was still warm, and, knowing the secret of her brothers'
weapons, she resolved upon a desperate remedy, and endeavored to suck
the poison from the wounds. The result of this most heroic attempt was
fearful: the poison was communicated to her own veins, and she was soon
stretched lifeless beside the luckless lover. There they were found by
anxious servants, who, knowing of the quarrel, had not dared to stir
about at first. Hallam says, after his account of this event: "So cruel
an outrage wrought the Geremei to madness; they formed alliances with
some of the neighboring republics; the Lambertazzi took the same
measures; and after a fight in the streets of Bologna of forty days'
duration, the latter were driven out of the city, with all the
Ghibellines, their political associates. Twelve thousand citizens were
condemned to banishment, their houses razed, and their estates
confiscated."
Another story of bloody violence centres in the territory from Padova
and Treviso, on the one hand, to Vicenza and Verona, on the other; and
while the incidents took place in mediaeval times, dating from the latter
part of the twelfth century, the consequences were so widespread and so
lasting that they were by no means dead in the days of the early
Renaissance. Tisolino di Camposampiero, a nobleman of Padova, confided
to his friend Ezzelino, the feudal lord of Onar and Romano, that it was
his intention to marry his son to the rich heiress of Abano, Cecilia
Ricco by name. Ezzelino received this confidence, and promised to keep
the secret; but no sooner had he parted from the Padovan nobleman than
he made plans of his own, and succeeded in marrying his own son to the
desirable heiress before Tisolino could interpose. What more was needed
to start a feud of the first magnitude? Tisolino's disappointed son,
whose heart was now filled with vengeance rather than with unrequited
love, abducted his former fiancee by means of a clever ruse, and carried
her off to his father's stronghold. The next day she was sent back,
dishonored, to her husband, who refused to receive her under these
circumstances; but at the same time he felt no compunctions about
retaining her extensive dowry, which comprised many strong castles and
other feudal holdings. Then the long struggle began which was to take
many lives and last for many years. Succeeding generations inherited the
hatred as one of their most cherished possessions, and it was almost a
century before the quarrel spent itself.
One of the most beautiful and pathetic stories of this whole period,
however, is the one which concerns the fate of Madonna Francesca,
daughter of Guido the Elder, Lord of Ravenna and of Cervia. For many
years, according to Boccaccio's account, Guido had waged a grievous war
with the Lord Malatesta of Rimini, and finally, when peace was brought
about between them through the mediation of friends, it was thought
advisable to cement the friendship with as close a tie as possible. To
that end, Guido agreed to give his fair young daughter, Francesca, in
marriage to Gianciotto, Malatesta's son, without a thought to her own
desires in the matter. When the plan was noised abroad, certain friends
of Guido, knowing Gianciotto to be lame and rather rough in his manners,
and considering it very doubtful whether Francesca would consent to
marry him when once she had seen him, came to the father and urged him
to act with discretion, so that no scandal might arise over the matter.
It happened that there was a younger son of the house of Malatesta,
Paolo by name, who was young and handsome and possessed of most courtly
and winning manners, and it was advised that he be sent to marry
Francesca by proxy in his brother's stead, and that she should be kept
in ignorance regarding the real state of affairs until it was too late
to withdraw her word. So Paolo came to Ravenna with a brilliant train of
gentlemen to celebrate the wedding festivities; and as he crossed the
courtyard of the palace on the morning of his arrival, a maid who knew
him pointed him out to Francesca through the open window, saying: "That
is he who is to be your husband." This Francesca believed, as she had no
reason to think otherwise, so skilfully was the marriage ceremony
arranged, and it was not until her arrival at Rimini that she knew her
fate. For there, on the morning following her coming, as she saw
Gianciotto rise from her side, when she had thought him to be Paolo, the
sad truth burst upon her. What excuses Paolo could give for this strange
deception we are not told, but the fact remains that Francesca still
loved him, and looked with scorn upon his misshapen brother. From that
time the dangerous moment slowly approached. Living together in the
same palace, it was but natural that Paolo and Francesca should be much
in each other's society; while Gianciotto, unloved and unlovely, busied
himself with his own affairs, which sometimes took him to other cities,
as he was a man of ambition and essayed by political manoeuvres to
advance his own interests. It happened once that in returning from one
of these journeys he saw Paolo enter Francesca's room, and then for the
first time he became jealous. Hitherto he had known of their affection
for each other, but it had never dawned upon him that his own brother
could thus betray his trust, while under his roof and receiving his
protection. Now he rushed up the broad stairway and made straight for
Francesca's door, anxious to know the worst. The door was found locked
before him, and his hurried knocks brought sudden terror to the lovers
within. There was an open window, however, through which Paolo counted
upon disappearing, and so he bade the lady make haste to open to her
lord, that he might not be curious. As Francesca opened the door, Paolo
found to his dismay that the edge of his cloak had caught upon a nail;
so that when Gianciotto, red with anger, burst into the room, the fatal
secret was disclosed. Grasping his dagger, without a moment's
hesitation, he stepped quickly to the window and would have slain his
brother with a single mighty blow, but Francesca, throwing herself
before him, sheathed the dagger in her heart and fell dead at his feet.
Gianciotto, still burning for revenge, and unmoved by his first bloody
deed, again struck at Paolo, and this time he slew him. Then, following
the words of the old story, "leaving them both dead, he hastily went his
way and betook him to his wonted affairs; and the next morning the two
lovers, with many tears, were buried together in one grave."
There is a terrible pathos about this story which has made it live
during all these years. Through every line of it runs a commentary upon
the barbarous customs of the time, which made such a situation possible,
and its climax was so inevitable and so necessary, according to all the
laws of nature, that we of a later day are inclined to shed a
sympathetic tear and heave a sigh of regret.
Dante has placed the two lovers in his _Inferno_ for their sin, but in
the fifth canto, where he first sees them, he is moved to such pity for
their unhappy lot that he exclaims:
"...Francesca, i tuoi martiri
A lagrimar mi fanno tristo e pio!"
[Thine agonies, Francesca, sad and compassionate to weeping make me!]
And before she finished telling her tragic story, he swooned away as if
he had been dying, "and fell, even as a dead body falls."
In a more recent time this story has been told by Silvio Pellico, who
wrote a tragedy on the subject, and by Leigh Hunt in a poem. In England,
Boker wrote a successful tragedy upon it many years ago, and more
recently Stephen Phillips, in his _Paolo and Francesca_, has produced a
dramatic poem of rare merit. Most recently of all, Gabriele d'Annunzio,
the well-known Italian poet and novelist, has made this story the
subject of a powerful drama, which was interpreted in a most wonderful
way by the great Italian actress, Eleonora Duse. To show that others
than poets have been inspired by Francesca's unhappy history, it may be
of interest to record the fact that noted pictures illustrating the
story have been painted by many of the greatest artists.
To return to that early period in Italian history, so filled with strife
and discord, it should be said that in spite of this constant warfare,
the richer princes, especially in the north of Italy, lived in a most
sumptuous manner, and prepared the way, to a certain degree, for the
splendor of Lorenzo the Magnificent, which was to appear in the century
following. The women in these regal courts were clothed in the most
extravagant fashion, and the precious stuffs and precious stones of all
the known world were laid at their feet by their admirers. Among these
affluent noblemen of the fourteenth century, Galeazzo Visconti was
generally considered the handsomest man of his age. Symonds tells us
that he was tall and graceful, with golden hair which he wore in long
plaits, or tied up in a net, or else loose and crowned with flowers. By
nature he was fond of display, liked to make a great show of his wealth,
and spent much money in public entertainments and feasts and in the
construction of beautiful palaces and churches. His wealth was so great
and his reputation had gone so far abroad that he was able to do what
other rich Italian noblemen accomplished in a somewhat later
time--arrange royal marriages for some of his children. His daughter
Violante was wedded with great ceremony to the Duke of Clarence, son of
Edward III. of England, who is said to have received with her as a dowry
the sum of two hundred thousand golden florins, and at the same time
five cities on the Piedmont frontier. London was a muddy, unpaved city
at this time, primitive in the extreme; the houses were still covered
with thatched roofs, beds were still made upon bundles of straw cast
upon the floors, and wine was so scarce that it was generally sold for
medicinal purposes. It has been pointed out that it must have been a
strange experience for this English nobleman to leave all that and come
to a country of warmth and sunshine, where the houses were large and
comfortable and made of marble, where the streets were dry and paved,
where wine was as plenty as water, and where ease and luxury were seen
on every hand.
This royal marriage was celebrated at Pavia, where Galeazzo held his
court, and the historian Giovio has given some curious and interesting
details regarding it. He says that on the completion of the ceremony
Galeazzo gave rich gifts to more than two hundred Englishmen, and it was
generally considered that he had shown himself more generous than the
greatest kings. At the wedding feast, Gian Galeazzo, the bride's
brother,--who was afterward married to Isabella, the daughter of King
John of France,--at the head of a band of noble youths, brought
wonderful new gifts to the table with the arrival of each new course
upon the bill of fare. "At one time it was sixty most beautiful horses,
adorned with gold and silver trappings; at another, silver plate, hawks,
hounds, fine cuirasses, suits of armor of wrought steel, helmets
decorated with crests, tunics adorned with pearls, belts, precious
jewels set in gold, and great quantities of cloth of gold and crimson
stuff for the making of garments. Such was the profusion at this banquet
that the remnants taken from the table were more than enough to supply
ten thousand men." Not every heiress in Italy could have gloried in such
a wedding feast as the one given in honor of Violante Visconti, but the
wealth of these petty rulers was something almost incredible, and the
general prosperity of the common people passes belief. As has always
been the case under such circumstances, increasing wealth has brought
about increased expenditure, principally in matters of dress, and the
women in particular seem to have made the most of this opportunity.
Vanity and frivolity multiplied on every hand as a natural consequence;
the Church was growing daily less able to cope with the moral degeneracy
of the time on account of its own immoral condition; thus, the
foundations were being laid for those centuries of corruption and
national weakness which were soon to follow.