CHAPTER XI

_San Gimignano_

"La nobile più Città che Terra di San Gimignano."

San Gimignano of the Beautiful Towers is a place of frowning grey and

brown walls and towers, of mysterious alleys, of shimmering olive-trees

and fields of flowers that lie beyond, of flaming skies at sunrise, of

clamorous bells at nightfall. Hardly, indeed, would he be pressed who

should be called upon to award the crown of beauty to any one, rather

than another, of the smaller towns of central Italy, though San

Gimignano would perhaps deserve it. "No other town or castle in

Tuscany," wrote Gino Capponi, "retains more of the Middle Ages and was

less invaded by the ages that followed; in those towers, and in the

churches and in the houses of massive stone, is still something that

cannot be covered up by the thin plastering of modern times; ancient

memories keep their possession of it, the new life has hardly entered

in."[173] High up on the side of one of the hills of the Val d'Elsa--

"The hill-side's crown where the wild hill brightens,"

as Mr Swinburne sings of it--it watches the fertile valley of the Elsa

spread below, while to the north, beyond Certaldo (haunted still by the

spirit of him who wrote the Human Comedy of the Middle Ages), the

[Illustration:

_Lombardi, Siena_

SAN GIMIGNANO]

Apennines bar the eyes' further progress. Behind it, to the west, are

hills that command a view of Volterra and the distant Mediterranean. The

woods that once gave the little town its picturesque name--"Il Castello

della Selva," the "Castle of the Wood"--have almost disappeared. In

their place it is surrounded with olive plantations, which temper with

their silvery softness the austerity of the towers and the walls:--

"Of the breached walls whereon the wallflowers ran

Called of Saint Fina, breachless now of man,

Though time with soft feet break them stone by stone,

Who breaks down hour by hour his own reign's span."[174]

The people are mediaeval still. You may see them throng the churches as

in the old days of simple faith, or hear them among the vineyards and in

the beanfields answer each other in the _rispetti_ and _strambotti_ of a

more primitive Tuscany. The place is miserably poor, in marked contrast

to the smug prosperity of its neighbours, Poggibonsi and Certaldo.

Living is exceedingly cheap, but there is no trade, and what little work

there is, is but scantily paid. Yet the people are full of old-world

dignity and courtesy, and seem cheerful in spite of it all, even down to

the little beggar _bambini_ who pursue the foreign visitor with

insatiable demands for foreign stamps and soldi, or pester him with

unseasonable offers to serve as guide.[175]

Like most other small Italian towns, the origin of San Gimignano--_il

nobile castello_, or _il florido castello di San Gimignano_--is hidden

in legendary clouds. There is, of course, a tradition of a Roman

foundation, a castle built by Silvius, a young Roman patrician involved

in Catiline's rebellion, of Attila's hordes of Huns hurled back by a

sudden apparition of St Geminianus the martyred Bishop of Modena (whence

the change of name from Silvia to San Gimignano), of a great palace

built by Desiderius King of the Lombards, of privileges granted by

Charlemagne. All these things are presumably mere fables. Luigi Pecori,

the historian of his native town, supposes that in the sixth or seventh

century, when the devotion to St Geminianus was widely spread, a church

was built to his honour here, that people gradually gathered round it,

until by the beginning of the eighth century there was a regular town,

which was fortified by a castle; and as it was then surrounded and

defended by woods, it was called the Castello di San Gimignano or the

Castello della Selva. Be that as it may, the first authentic mention of

the place is in a document of the early part of the tenth century.

From the tenth to the twelfth century, San Gimignano was subject to

Volterra and more particularly to the Bishop of that city; but in the

course of the twelfth century, its people were gradually winning their

way to virtual independence and self-government, like the other communes

of Tuscany, and like them beginning to exert supremacy and authority

over the petty nobles of the small castles in the vicinity. By the year

1200, they had practically attained their liberty. At this time they had

consuls, three or four elected annually, with a special council of fifty

and a larger general council "which met only in cases of peace or war,

usually in the Pieve, and always at the sound of the bell, as though

Religion with her solemn voice invited the citizens into her own

sanctuary to provide for the public weal."[176] Hitherto the Bishop of

Volterra had appointed two rectors, _rettori_, in whom the judiciary

power was vested; but in 1199, instead of these rectors, we begin to

find a Podestà, elected by the Council of the Commune, the first being

Messer Maghinardo Malavolti of Siena. At first, a native of the place

was sometimes elected; but after 1220 the Podestà was always a foreign

noble (usually, but not invariably, from Siena or Florence), who judged

civil and criminal cases, presided over the meetings of the General

Council and led the forces of the Commune in war; he brought with him a

judge and a notary with a certain number of attendants, _berrovieri_,

and was not allowed to entertain nor to receive hospitality from the

citizens. All this was more or less the same, on a smaller scale, as

what took place at this epoch in Florence or Siena; but here in San

Gimignano the effect of the appointment of a Podestà was not to reduce

the authority of the consuls, but rather to abolish that of the rectors

of the Bishop of Volterra, and we find him exercising his magistracy

side by side with the consuls for a longer period here than in the

larger communes. For the rest, his term of office was originally one

year, but it was afterwards reduced to six months; the same Podestà,

however, was frequently re-elected.

Hitherto San Gimignano had consisted of the _Castello Vecchio_,

surrounded by the old walls and with those grim antique gates, of which

the remains stand to-day in the shape of the two _portoni_, with a

suburb outside. But now, at the end of the twelfth and beginning of the

thirteenth centuries, the new circle of walls was built to inclose the

_Castello Nuovo_, as it was called; this is the _seconda cinta_, the

second circuit of walls that still surround the place.

With the thirteenth century begins the series of the wars of the

Sangimignanesi. In 1202, under their Podestà, they sent a force to

relieve Semifonte, then besieged by the Florentines, but ended by

helping to subject the castle to their formidable neighbours. They

amplified their own dominion, destroyed the fortresses of the lords of

various little castles in the contado, forcing them to enter San

Gimignano, and obtained Castelvecchio (which no longer exists) in 1210

from the Bishop of Volterra. They carried on a long intermittent

struggle with Volterra, sometimes for the possession of Monte Voltraio,

sometimes in alliance with the warrior bishop, Pagano de'

Pannocchieschi, whom his people expelled at intervals. Occasionally,

Florence or Siena would intervene and compel the two small communes to

keep the peace. San Gimignano even sent men to the Crusades, and two of

these, Bene Trainelli and a certain Gradalone, are said to have won

great honour. Within the city, there were the usual struggles between

the magnates and the people, the _grandi_ and the _popolani_, which came

to a head in 1233, when the houses of the Knights Templars were burned,

and a number of _popolani_, chosen from each of the then four contrade,

with the rectors of the Arts, were appointed to sit with the consuls in

the councils of the State. There was another tumult in 1236, which the

Bishop Pagano came in person from Volterra to appease, after which the

two Councils appear to have been reduced to one. In the days of

Frederick II., San Gimignano was Ghibelline, took its Podestàs "by the

grace of God and of the Emperor," and sent horse and foot to serve in

the imperial army. But the factions raged here, as everywhere else in

Tuscany. In 1246, irritated by an unusually heavy tax upon the churches,

the Guelfs rose. Headed by the sons of Guido Ardinghelli, they assailed

the houses of the Ghibellines, especially those of the sons of Messer

Salvuccio. The Podestà was absent at Certaldo; but he gathered troops in

the contado, and entered the town while the uproar in the streets was at

its height; he assailed the Guelfs who, under this combined attack and

the rain of bolts and arrows from the towers, were forced to retire.

There were numbers banished on both sides. Thus began the feud between

the houses of the Ardinghelli and Salvucci, that was to bring San

Gimignano into servitude.

Shortly after the middle of the thirteenth century, a more democratic

form of government was established. Instead of the consuls, the supreme

authority was vested in a magistracy of twelve, elected annually--the

twelve "Captains and Rectors of the People," two captains and one rector

being elected from each quarter of the town. There was the one Council

of the Commune, usually sixty in number. A special magistracy of eight

presided over the public expenses (the _Otto delle Spese_), and the

Podestà, of course, had a special council, which in San Gimignano

consisted of sixteen citizens.

But in the years in which this reformation was effected, immediately

after the death of Frederick II., the factions grew more furious. In

June 1251 the Guelfs rose, headed by the Twelve, expelled the Ghibelline

Podestà, Neri degli Uberti of Florence, and made themselves masters of

the town. Then in September 1252, the Ghibellines rose, headed by

Michele Buonfigliuoli. The Guelfs made their stand at the houses of the

Cini and Cici in the quarter of San Matteo, where after a desperate

battle--the Podestà vainly spreading the red and yellow banner of the

Commune and calling upon the combatants to lay down their arms--the

Ghibellines got the upper hand, sacked the houses and massacred their

opponents. The Guelfs appealed to the Bishop of Volterra, Ranieri de'

Pannocchieschi, who came to San Gimignano and patched up a sort of peace

between the two factions--apparently to the advantage of the Guelfs. The

Ghibellines rose again in January 1253; the gates were broken down and a

portion of the walls destroyed, until at last the men of San Miniato

interposed and assisted in expelling the leading Ghibellines.

This is the epoch of the short, flower-like life and flower-attended

death of the virgin heroine of San Gimignano, Santa Fina. Fina de'

Ciardi, born of a noble but poor family, at the age of ten contracted a

horrible disease and, instead of a bed, chose to lie upon a plank of

hard oak for five years, "offering herself up as a perfect holocaust to

God." She lost her father and mother, had horrible visions of the fiend

in the form of a serpent. Then according to the legend, eight days

before her death, St Gregory appeared to her, and told her that the end

of her miseries was come, for that on the day of his feast she would be

with him in Paradise. She died on March 12th, 1253, being then fifteen

years old. "Hardly had that blessed soul expired," writes the Annalist,

"than the Demons in envy and rage filled the air with such fearful

whirlwinds, that poor mortals were struck with horror. Against them the

sound of the bells of San Gimignano, moved by the invisible hands of

Angels, bore witness to the sanctity of Fina, and straightway caused

those storms and infernal whirlwinds to cease. At these prodigies, the

people flocked to the house of the saint, from which every one imagined

that these effects proceeded. And when they arrived there, they smelt a

fragrance of Paradise, and saw all the room where the sacred body was,

miraculously full of flowers, as also the board upon which she lay. And

when they wished to lift her from it, a part of the mortified flesh

remained attached to it and straightway turned into flowers."[177] Such

are the contrasts offered by mediaeval

[Illustration: APPARITION OF ST GREGORY TO SANTA FINA

(DOMENICO GHIRLANDAIO)]

life and legend. The towns where the streets are still running red with

the blood of the citizens, while the remains of houses and palaces are

still smoking in their ruin, are visited by beings of another world, and

have mystical gates and windows that open out upon the unseen.

San Gimignano was now Guelf for a while, and sent a well-equipped little

force to swell the Florentine host at Montaperti in 1260. After the

battle the Ardinghelli, Pellari, Mangieri and other Guelf families fled

to Lucca; the Ghibellines took over the government and recalled Neri

degli Uberti to serve as Podestà. San Gimignano now followed the

fortunes of Siena, as in its Guelf days it had followed those of

Florence. But in 1269, after the battle of Colle di Val d'Elsa, it

became Guelf again under the suzerainty of Charles of Anjou, expelled

the leading Ghibellines, and took a Captain of the People in imitation

of the Florentines. But the neighbouring castle of Poggibonsi still

clung to the decaying cause of the Ghibellines, and sheltered the

_fuorusciti_. It was now, in 1270, reduced by the French soldiery of

Montfort, aided by the Florentines and Sangimignanesi. The splendid

castle, which Giovanni Villani calls the strongest and most beautiful in

Italy, and of which we still see the remains rising above the modern

town, was razed to the ground, and the inhabitants were forced to

descend from the hill into the plain. King Charles put the work of

destruction into the hands of the Sangimignanesi and made over a portion

of the territory of the "rebellious" castle to them, the rest to the

Florentines. Henceforth San Gimignano adhered to the Guelf League of

Tuscany, sent armed men to take part in its wars, and did a little

independent fighting with the Bishop of Volterra. The small Commune

began to have a voice in the counsels of Tuscany. In August 1276, the

Sienese sent for peacemakers from San Gimignano, and the Podestà,

Fantone de' Rossi of Florence, with two of the citizens went at their

request, "for the utility of that City and for the honour of this

Commune."

This was, indeed, the golden age of San Gimignano, from about 1270 to

about 1320. According to Pecori, the population of the _terra_ and

contado together amounted to about 16,000 in the fourteenth century. The

internal government grew more democratic, more definitely Guelf. Instead

of the twelve captains and rectors, it was now ruled by the _Otto delle

Spese_ with the four _Capitani di Parte Guelfa_, and the usual

_credenza_ and General Council. In 1301 these Eight were increased to

Nine, the "Nine Governors and Defenders of the Town," whose term of

office (like that of the Priors of Florence and the Nine of Siena) was

two months. With the Nine was associated a _giunta_ of twenty-four. The

Podestà was publicly elected in front of the Pieve or Collegiata. All

the magistrates assembled, and the Captains of the Parte Guelfa

determined two cities from which he should be chosen. Then they drew by

lot twelve councillors, each of whom nominated two knights from each of

the two cities. They balloted for these, took the names of the eight who

had received most votes, and wrote them on two tickets, four on each,

which were inclosed in wax and put into a vessel of water. A child drew

out one for the first six months, leaving the other for the second. Then

the four names were similarly inclosed in four other wax globules, the

child drew again, and the first name that came out was that of the

Podestà for the next six months. The names on the second ticket,

carefully inclosed in wax, were put into the custody of the Friars Minor

until, at the appointed time, they were brought to the General Council

and the same process repeated for the Podestà of the second six

months.[178] And, indeed, the Podestà of San Gimignano had no easy task;

the factions continued their aimless and deadly course, the Pellari

leading the Guelfs and the Salvucci the Ghibellines, until in May 1298,

the Cardinal Matteo d'Acquasparta came to the place and patched up a

peace, which was solemnly celebrated in the Piazza.

In the following year, 1299, died San Bartolo, the Father Damian of the

Middle Ages. He was the son of Giovanni Buonpedoni, Count of Mucchio in

the Sangimignanese contado. At an early age he entered the Church,

tended the sick at Pisa, served as a simple parish priest at Peccioli

and Picchena, and at length devoted the last twenty years of his life to

the service of the lepers in the leper hospital, the Leprosario of

Cellole. Here he fell a victim to his heroic self-sacrifice, and

suffered so terribly that he was called the Job of Tuscany. By his own

last wish, he was buried in Sant' Agostino, where, two centuries later,

the art of Benedetto da Maiano raised the noble monument we now see.

The day in this epoch that has made most impression upon the imagination

of posterity, probably created comparatively little excitement at the

time. It was only one of many similar embassies from the allied cities

of the Guelf League that came to the gate of San Gimignano on that May

morning of the year of Jubilee, 1300;[179] but the young burgher who

rode in, with trumpeters and others whose coats were emblazoned with the

red lily, was no other than Dante Alighieri, come as ambassador of

Florence to announce that a parliament was to be held for the purpose

of electing a captain for the Guelf League of Tuscany, and to invite the

Commune of San Gimignano to send representatives. The great new Palace

of the Commune was then just finished, and the Tower barely begun. There

was much Guelf fervour in San Gimignano in this year, the Podestà

ordaining that, to avoid disorder and faction, every one should solemnly

declare himself Guelf or Ghibelline, and that the Captains of the Party

should raise a guard of six hundred men, half from the _terra_ and half

from the contado, for the custody of the town, to appear ready in arms

at the sound of the bell. As we might have anticipated, when the Guelfs

split into Blacks and Whites, San Gimignano was "black," and in 1305

sent men to the siege of Pistoia.

A fierce war, on a large scale for two such small states, broke out in

1308 between San Gimignano and Volterra. There were no serious battles,

but much harrying of the country and burning on both sides, and it was

only ended by the intervention of Florence, Siena and Lucca. On the

advent of Henry of Luxemburg, the Sangimignanesi sent men to aid King

Robert and the Florentines. The Emperor came to Poggibonsi, from which

he sentenced San Gimignano to pay a fine, and its walls and towers to be

destroyed. Naturally, it was a mere idle threat.

This was the epoch in which the poet of San Gimignano, Messer Folgore,

flourished. As we have seen, his principal work is associated with

Siena; but there is a second series of sonnets, eight in number, for the

different days of the week, which is more connected with his native

city. They are dedicated to the Florentine, Carlo di Messer Guerra

Cavicciuoli, who had served San Gimignano as condottiere in the war

against Volterra. A more strenuous and virile note is struck here than

in the better-known Sienese series for the months, in as much as,

amidst the singing and love-making, the feasting and jousting, hunting

and hawking, there is at least one day of genuine fighting to be done:--

"To a new world on Tuesday shifts my song,

Where beat of drum is heard, and trumpet-blast;

Where footmen armed and horsemen armed go past,

And bells say ding to bells that answer dong;

Where he the first and after him the throng,

Armed all of them with coats and hoods of steel,

Shall see their foes and make their foes to feel,

And so in wrack and rout drive them along."[180]

For the rest, Folgore was a furious Guelf, and when his party was

crushed by Uguccione della Faggiuola, on the tremendous day of

Montecatini in 1315, he hurled his defiance at God Himself:--"I praise

Thee not, O God, nor adore Thee; I pray not to Thee, and I thank Thee

not; and I serve Thee not, for I am more sick of it than are the souls

of being in Purgatory. For Thou hast put the Guelfs to such torment that

the Ghibellines mock us and harrow us, and, if Uguccione demanded duty

from Thee, Thou wouldst pay it readily."[181]

In 1319 two brothers of the Baroncetti, Messer Tribaldo and Fresco,

conspired to make the first-named despot of the town. He was a leader of

the Guelfs, potent in their councils, lavish with his money. With their

allies and friends the two attempted to surprise the Palace; but the

people rose in arms and drove them from the town; they were sentenced to

perpetual banishment and their goods confiscated. "There was a knight of

the Baroncetti," writes Fra Matteo Ciaccheri in his rhymed chronicle,

"and he was a mighty man: Messer Tribaldo was his name. He sought by

every way and means to become lord of all, and to make himself fine with

the noble mantle. Therefore was he hunted out with great fury, and

Messer Fresco, for they were brothers: for all the town rose in

tumult."[182] After this the Captain of the People, whose office had

hitherto been frequently held by the Podestà, became more important, and

the special council over which he presided was limited to _popolani_.

Guards were continually kept on the Tower of the Podestà and the Tower

of the People; chains were made for the streets and gates, and special

custodians of them appointed for each of the four contrade. But the

factions grew more and more embittered, and the days of the little

Republic were numbered.

Led by the Ardinghelli, the _fuorusciti_ were ravaging the contado, when

in 1332 the Sangimignanesi, headed by their Podestà, Messer Piero di

Duccio Saracini of Siena, took and burned Camporbiano, which had

sheltered them. But Camporbiano was in the contado of Florence. The

Florentines instantly summoned the Podestà and the leaders of the

expedition to appear before them, and, when they did not appear,

condemned the Commune of San Gimignano to pay a heavy fine, and their

Podestà, with one hundred and forty-eight men of the town, to be burned

alive. When the Florentine troops were actually on the march, the

Sangimignanesi begged pardon, and threw themselves on the mercy of the

Commune and People of Florence, who forgave them fairly magnanimously,

on the condition of taking back the exiles and making good the damage

that they had done to Camporbiano, according to the valuation of the men

of the latter place themselves and of the Florentine ambassadors. After

this, the Florentines soon began to treat San Gimignano as a vassal

State, demanding soldiers and tributes, forcing its councils to ratify

their corrections of the statutes. When the Duke of Athens made himself

lord of Florence in 1342, the Ardinghelli (who had been expelled again)

attempted in the night to surprise the town, with the aid of the ducal

forces, at the Porta della Fonte. The attempt failed, but in the

following February the Commune was forced to submit to the Duke, who

began to build a castle to secure his hold. A few months later, on his

fall, it was razed to the ground and his adherents expelled. Again the

Ardinghelli, led by Primerano and Francesco, in secret understanding

with their friends within, attempted to get possession of the town, and

again they were unsuccessful. Civil war now broke out in the contado,

and in 1346 the Ardinghelli, with a strong force of armed men collected

from all quarters, again assailed the walls. At last, by the

intervention of the Florentines, a peace was patched up, and the

Ardinghelli returned.

Broken in spirit by the pestilence of 1348, hopelessly in debt to the

banking houses of Florence and with factions still devastating the town,

in the spring of 1349 the Commune of San Gimignano was compelled to

surrender the custody and government of the State to the Florentines for

three years, with the conditions that the Commune of Florence should

every six months send a _cittadino popolano_ from Florence as Captain of

the Guard and another as Podestà (the latter, however, elected by the

Sangimignanesi themselves), and that the citizens of San Gimignano

should be declared true and lawful citizens of Florence, with the same

rights and privileges as the Florentines.

The mutual hatred of the Ardinghelli and the Salvucci now blazed out

afresh. Temporarily allayed by the appearance of some three hundred

Florentine cavalry in the town, it came to a head in 1352. In a street

brawl, a certain Ser Ilario struck Michele di Pietro, one of the Nine;

Rossellino di Messer Gualtieri degli Ardinghelli (the brother of the

Primerano already mentioned), who was present, was made responsible and

fined. The Salvucci declared that Bartolommeo Altoviti, who was Captain

of the town for the Florentines, had favoured Rossellino, and contrived

that he should be succeeded by Benedetto di Giovanni Strozzi. Benedetto

was easily convinced by them that Rossellino and Primerano were plotting

with Altoviti against him. He promptly arrested the two brothers, "young

men of great expectation and following," says Matteo Villani, "and

Guelfs by disposition and birth," and imprisoned them. They threw a

letter out of their prison tower, calling upon their friends to deliver

them. It fell into the hands of the Captain, who, impelled "either by

zeal of his office or by his own evil disposition or by the instigation

of the Salvucci, their enemies," determined to put them to death. The

Commune of Florence, believing them innocent, sent an express command to

Benedetto that he should not take their lives: but the Elsa had risen in

flood, and the messengers could not pass that night. The Captain,

hearing that they were on the way, hurried on the execution; on August

9th, he had the two young nobles publicly beheaded in the Piazza at the

foot of the steps of the Palace, together with the supposed accomplice

to whom they had written the fatal letter.

Thirsting for vengeance, the Ardinghelli, on December 20th, introduced

the soldiery of the lords of Picchena and of the exiled Rossi of

Florence into the town by the Porta di Quercecchio. Followed by the

majority of the people, they assailed the houses of the Salvucci, who

were taken by surprise and made little resistance, drove them out of the

place, sacked and burned their palaces and those of their adherents, and

occupied the town for themselves. On Christmas Day, the Salvucci and

their friends appeared in Florence, demanding the aid of the Commune

under whose guardianship (they said) they had been thus robbed and

maltreated. On the other side the Ardinghelli, in the name and with the

authority of the Commune of San Gimignano, sent ambassadors, declaring

that they had driven out the Ghibellines and would hold the town in

honour of the Commune of Florence and of the Parte Guelfa. In February,

the Florentines sent their Podestà, Paolo Vaiani of Rome, with a strong

force of horse and foot, to restore order. Reaching the town and

receiving no answer to their summons, they set their camp in hostile

array and began to waste the country; but none sallied out nor made any

resistance. Then the people forced the Ardinghelli to surrender. It was

agreed that the Florentines should make peace between them and the

exiles, should have the custody of the town for five more years, and

should keep a Captain of the Guard there with seventy-five horsemen at

the cost of the inhabitants, and that the Salvucci should return after

six months. But the lords of Picchena having made no apology to Florence

for their share in the matter, the Florentines in June destroyed their

walls and fortress, "in order that this castle might no more be the

cause of San Gimignano and Colle being stirred up to any

rebellion."[183]

Very striking is the last, piteous appeal of Fra Matteo Ciaccheri to his

countrymen, to let the dead rest and save San Gimignano before it is too

late:--

"Among the castles it is the very flower, and we are destroying it with

all our might. It is the will of God, our Lord, that it should come to

nought for our sin; within my heart I feel bitter grief thereat! Each of

us has been hunted out, because we have turned to these factions, and we

have been slain and burned and taken and robbed. For God's sake, let us

let the past be past, and each one strive to be a good brother, and look

upon each other with kindly eyes. And so shall we save this noble jewel,

which doth ever move my heart with love, so delightful and beauteous it

seemeth to me."[184]

But all efforts were useless. The Salvucci and the Ardinghelli would

have no dealings with each other, "and they kept all the town in gloom."

Each house longed to be avenged on the other and opposed the other at

every turn. At length the Ardinghelli, being poorer and weaker than the

Salvucci, decided to anticipate their enemies and to urge the people to

make a complete and perpetual surrender to the Commune of Florence. In

spite of the protests of the Salvucci, this was decided in a general

Parliament in July, 1353. The Salvucci had potent friends in Florence,

whom they stirred up to get the submission rejected, on the grounds that

it was not the will of the people of San Gimignano themselves, but the

work of a faction. The Signoria declared that they "only desired the

love and the goodwill of all the Commune, and not the lordship of that

town in division of the people." Then two hundred and fifty of the chief

men of San Gimignano appeared before the Priors and Gonfaloniere of

Florence, assuring them that it was the will of all their people, whose

only hope of salvation lay in being accepted by the Florentines. Hearing

this, the Signoria formally proposed to the Council of the People of

Florence that the surrender should be accepted; but such was still the

influence of the Salvucci that it was barely carried. "That which every

one should have desired, as a great and honourable acquisition for his

native land," says Matteo Villani, "found so many opposed to it in the

secret balloting, that it was only carried by one black bean. I am

ashamed to have written it, so infamous was it of my fellow citizens.

The motion being carried, the _terra_ of the noble castle of San

Gimignano and its contado and district became part of the contado of the

Commune of Florence."[185]

[Illustration:

_Lombardi, Siena_

IN THE TOWN OF THE FAIR TOWERS]

There was a great display of confidence and magnanimity on either side.

The Sangimignanesi sent a blank sheet of parchment with their seal to

Florence, for the conditions of their submission. The Florentines

crossed it and sent it back with two other blank sheets, for the

Sangimignanesi to fill up as they pleased. Finally, on August 11th,

1353, the terms were arranged in the Palazzo Vecchio at Florence. They

were, remarks Pecori, "most honourable terms, alike for those who

dictated and those who received them." And this is true, so far as

everything connected with the taxes and with the local statutes and

customs of the place are concerned; and all of the _terra_ and contado,

except the "magnates, or those that are considered such by the statutes

of the said town," are to be "in perpetuity, verily and originally, of

the contado and of the people, _popolani_ of Florence." One of the

articles stipulates that "all the artisans of San Gimignano, who shall

wish to be admitted to the matriculation of any Art in Florence, can be

received gratuitously by the respective consuls; it being expressly

stated that it is lawful to each one of that town to exercise his own

art there freely, notwithstanding the ordinances of the Arts of

Florence." But, in San Gimignano itself, there is to be a Florentine

Podestà with full jurisdiction and power, according to the statutes of

the _terra_ itself, and further, an unmistakable note of servitude, it

is stipulated "that in the Terra of San Gimignano there be constructed a

fortress, at the expense of this Commune, in the place that shall be

determined by the commissaries of the Signoria of Florence."[186]

Thus ended the independence of San Gimignano, after a period of a

century and a half. As long as the great Republic into whose hands they

had fallen lasted, the Sangimignanesi kept up some sort of appearance

of communal liberty, and were even allowed to send ambassadors and treat

with the other communes of Tuscany on their own account--in small

matters of commerce and boundaries. The nine Governors and Defenders of

the Town became the eight Priors (reduced to six in 1390) and the

Gonfaloniere of Justice, after the Florentine model. When the Podestà

entered upon his term of office, he came out in state upon the steps of

the Palace, presented the letters of the Signoria of Florence to the

assembled people, took the oath and received from the Gonfaloniere the

baton of command and the keys of the town. In like fashion the Priors

and the Captains of the Parte Guelfa entered upon their terms of office

with great pomp, always magnificently attired; the great banner and the

seal of the Commune were still solemnly consigned to the crimson-robed

Gonfaloniere; and in public ceremonies the magistrates were accompanied

by young squires with trumpets, robed in red and yellow, the colours of

the Commune, with black caps and green cloaks emblazoned with the arms

of San Gimignano in silver. Down to the eighteenth century, San

Gimignano was famous for the magnificence of its municipal functions.

Until the end of the fourteenth century, painting in San Gimignano

appears to have been exclusively practised by Sienese masters. In the

fifteenth century it was exclusively Florentine. At the end of this

century, San Gimignano produced two excellent painters of its own,

though neither of them in the front rank. Sebastiano Mainardi (died in

1513) became the favourite pupil of Domenico Ghirlandaio, whose sister

Alessandra he married; he was a diligent artist, who followed his master

with ability, and frequently worked from his designs. Vincenzo di

Bernardo Tamagni (1492-1533) worked under Raphael in the Vatican, and

imitated his style with considerable success. Vasari praises his soft

colouring and the beauty of his figures. His life appears to have been

unfortunate. In 1511 Bazzi had him imprisoned for debt in the prison of

the Podestà of Montalcino, and in 1527 he was ruined in the sack of

Rome, after which, says Vasari, "he lived on, in little happiness."

Bernardo Poccetti (1542-1612), by whom there is much second-rate fresco

painting in Florence, was also a native of San Gimignano.

At least one Sangimignanese in the days of the Renaissance acquired an

European reputation. Filippo de' Buonaccorsi was born here in 1437, of

an old and noble family. He was one of the humanists who flocked to Rome

in the days of Pius II. Here he was associated with Pomponius Laetus in

the founding of the famous Academy, and took the name of Callimachus,

which was supposed to be the classical equivalent of Buonaccorsi. He was

a leader in the real or fictitious plot against Paul II., of which

Platina gives us so vivid a picture in his life of that Pontiff, and

saved himself by flight. Later on, he made his way to Poland, where King

Casimir IV. made him tutor to his sons and one of his secretaries, and

frequently sent him on embassies. When Casimir's son, John Albert,

succeeded to the throne in 1492, Filippo became his chief minister and

adviser, and is said to have counselled the King to resist the nobles

and aim at despotic power. He died at Cracow in 1496, leaving a number

of works in Latin, dealing with the history of Poland and Hungary. On

one occasion, when on his way to Rome as ambassador from King Casimir to

Pope Innocent VIII., Buonaccorsi passed through San Gimignano. He

received a pompous reception from the Commune, in order that others, his

fellow-citizens, might be encouraged to follow in his footsteps.

The Story of Siena and San Gimignano · 第 11 / 13 章