Dante, the Divine Poet
There were still Guelfs and Ghibellines in 1265, but the old names had
partially lost their meaning in the Republic of Florence, where the
citizens brawled daily, one faction against the other. The nobles had,
nevertheless, a bond with the emperor, being of the same Teutonic
stock, and the burghers often sought the patronage of a very powerful
pope, hoping in this way to maintain their well-loved independence.
But often Guelf and Ghibelline had no interest in anything outside the
walls of Florence. The Florentine blood was hot and rose quickly to
avenge insult. Family feuds were passionately upheld in a community so
narrow and so zealous. If a man jostled another in the street, it was
an excuse for a fight which might end in terrible bloodshed. Fear of
banishment was no restraint to the combatants. The Guelf party would
send away the Ghibelline after there had been some shameful tumult.
Then the _fuori_ (outside) were recalled because their own faction was
in power again, and, in turn, the Guelfs were banished by the
Ghibellines. In 1260 there had even been some talk of destroying the
famous town in Tuscany. Florence would have been razed to the ground
had not a party leader, Farinata degli Uberti, showed unexpected
patriotism which saved her.
Florence had waxed mighty through her commerce, {20} holding a high
place among the Italian cities which had thrown off the feudal yoke and
become republics. Wealth gave the citizens leisure to study art and
literature, and to attain to the highest civilization of a thriving
state. The Italians of that time were the carriers of Europe, and as
such had intercourse with every nation of importance. They were
especially successful as bankers, Florentine citizens of middle rank
acquiring such vast fortunes by finance that they outstripped the
nobles who dwelt outside the gates and spent all their time in
fighting. The guilds of Florence united men of the same trade and also
encouraged perfection in the various branches. Goldsmiths offered
marvellous wares for the purchase of the affluent dilettante. Silk was
a natural manufacture, and paper had to be produced in a place where
the School of Law attracted foreign scholars.
Rome had the renown of past splendour and the purple of imperial pride.
Venice was the depôt of the world's trade, and sent fleets east and
west laden with precious cargoes, which gave her a unique position
among the five Republics. Bologna drew students from every capital in
Europe to her ancient Universities. Milan had been a centre of
learning even in the days of Roman rule, and the Emperor Maximilian had
made it the capital of Northern Italy. Florence, somewhat overshadowed
by such fame, could yet boast the most ancient origin. Was not
Faesulae, lying close to her, the first city built when the Flood had
washed away the abodes of men and left the earth quite desolate? _Fia
sola_--"Let her be alone"--the words re-echoed through the whole
neighbourhood and were the pride of Florence, which lay in a smiling
fertile plain where all things flourished. The Florentines were coming
to their own as the Middle Ages {21} passed; they were people of
cunning hand and brain, always eager to make money and spend it to
procure the luxury and beauty their natures craved. The "florin" owed
its popularity to the soundness of trade within the very streets where
the bell, known as "the great cow," rang so lustily to summon the
citizens to combat. The golden coins carried the repute of the fair
Italian town to other lands, and changed owners so often that her
prosperity was obvious.
Florence looked very fair when Durante Alighieri came into the world,
for he was born on a May morning, and the Florentines were making
holiday. There was mirth and jesting within the tall grey houses round
the little church of San Martino. The Alighieri dwelt in that quarter,
but more humbly than their fine neighbours, the Portinari, the Donati,
and the Cerci.
The Portinari celebrated May royally in 1275, inviting all their
friends to a blithe gathering. At this _festa_ Dante Alighieri met
Beatrice, the little daughter of his host, and the long dream of his
life began, for he idealized her loveliness from that first youthful
meeting.
"Her dress on that day was of a most noble colour, a subdued and goodly
crimson, girdled and adorned in such sort as best suited with her very
tender age. At that moment I say most truly that the spirit of life,
which hath its dwelling in the secretest chamber of the heart, began to
tremble so violently that the least pulses of my body shook therewith;
and in trembling it said these words--'_Ecce Deus fortior me, qui
veniens dominabitur mihi._' From that time Love ruled my soul. . . ."
Henceforth, Dante watched for the vision of Beatrice, weaving about her
all the poetic fancies of his youth. He must have seen her many times,
but no words passed {22} between them till nine years had sped and he
chanced to come upon her in all the radiance of her womanhood. She was
"between two gentle ladies who were older than she; and passing by in
the street, she turned her eyes towards that place where I stood very
timidly, and in her ineffable courtesy saluted me so graciously that I
seemed then to see the heights of all blessedness. And because this
was the first time her words came to my ears, it was so sweet to me
that, like one intoxicated, I left all my companions, and retiring to
the solitary refuge of my chamber I set myself to think of that most
courteous one, and thinking of her, there fell upon me a sweet sleep,
in which a marvellous vision appeared to me." The poet described the
vision in verse--it was Love carrying a sleeping lady in one arm and in
the other the burning heart of Dante. He wished that the sonnet he
wrote should be answered by "all the faithful followers of love," and
was gratified by the prompt reply of Guido Cavalcanti, who had won
renown as a knight and minstrel.
Dante became the friend of this elder poet, and was encouraged to
pursue his visionary history of the earlier years of his life and his
fantastic adoration for Beatrice Portinari. The _Vita Nuova_ was read
by the poet's circle, who had a sympathetic interest in the details of
the drama. The young lover did not confess his love to "the youngest
of the angels," but he continued to worship her long after she had
married Simone de Bardi.
[Illustration: Dante in the Streets of Florence (Evelyn Paul)]
Yet Dante entered into the ruder life of Florence, and took up arms for
the Guelf faction, to which his family belonged. He fought in 1289 at
the battle of Campaldino against the city of Arezzo and the Ghibellines
who had taken possession of that city. Florence had been strangely
peaceful in his childhood because the Guelfs were her unquestioned
masters at the time. It must have {23} been a relief to Florentines to
go forth to external warfare!
Dante played his part valiantly on the battle-field, then returned to
wonderful aloofness from the strife of factions. He was stricken with
grave fears that Beatrice must die, and mourned sublimely when the sad
event took place on the ninth day of one of the summer months of 1290.
"In their ninth year they had met, nine years after, they had spoken;
she died on the ninth day of the month and the ninetieth year of the
century."
Real life began with the poet's marriage when he was twenty-eight, for
he allied himself to the noble Donati by marrying Gemma of that house.
Little is known of the wife, but she bore seven children and seems to
have been devoted. Dante still had his spiritual love for Beatrice in
his heart, and planned a wonderful poem in which she should be
celebrated worthily.
Dante began to take up the active duties of a citizen in 1293 when the
people of Florence rose against the nobles and took all their political
powers from them. The aristocratic party had henceforth to submit to
the humiliation of enrolling themselves as members of some guild or art
if they wished to have political rights in the Republic. The poet was
not too proud to adopt this course, and was duly entered in the
register of the art of doctors and apothecaries. It was not necessary
that he should study medicine, the regulation being a mere form,
probably to carry out the idea that every citizen possessing the
franchise should have a trade of some kind.
The prosperity of the Republic was not destroyed by this petty
revolution. Churches were built and stones laid for the new walls of
Florence. Relations with other states demanded the services of a
gracious and tactful {24} embassy. Dante became an ambassador, and was
successful in arranging the business of diplomacy and in promoting the
welfare of his city. He was too much engaged in important affairs to
pay attention to every miserable quarrel of the Florentines. The
powerful Donati showed dangerous hostility now to the wealthy Cerchi,
their near neighbours. Dante acted as a mediator when he could spare
the time to hear complaints. He was probably more in sympathy with the
popular cause which was espoused by the Cerchi than with the arrogance
of his wife's family.
The feud of the Donati and Cerchi was fostered by the irruption of a
family from Pistoia, who had separated into two distinct branches--the
Bianchi and the Neri (the Whites and the Blacks)--and drawn their
swords upon each other. The Cerchi chose to believe that the Bianchi
were in the right, and, of course, the Donati took up the cause of the
Neri. The original dispute had long been forgotten, but any excuse
would serve two factions anxious to fight. Brawling took place at a
May _festa_, in which several persons were wounded.
Dante was glad to divert his mind from all his discords when the last
year of the thirteenth century came and he set out to Rome on
pilgrimage. At Easter all the world seemed to be flocking to that
solemn festival of the Catholic Church, where the erring could obtain
indulgence by fifteen days of devotion. Yet the very break in the
usual life of audiences and journeys must have been grateful to the
tired ambassador. He began to muse on the poetic aims of his first
youth and the work which was to make Beatrice's name immortal. Some
lines of the new poem were written in the Latin tongue, then held the
finest language for expressing a great subject. The poet had to
abandon his scheme for {25} a time at least, when he was made one of
the Priors, or supreme rulers, of Florence in June 1300.
There was some attempt during Dante's brief term of office to settle
the vexed question of the rival parties. Both deserved punishment,
without doubt, and received it in the form of banishment for the heads
of the factions. "Dante applied all his genius and every act and
thought to bring back unity to the republic, demonstrating to the wiser
citizens how even the great are destroyed by discord, while the small
grow and increase infinitely when at peace. . . ."
Apparently Dante was not always successful in his attempts to unite his
fellow-citizens. He talked of resignation sometimes and retirement
into private life, a proposal which was opposed by his friends in
office. When the losing side decided to ask Pope Boniface for an
arbitrator to settle their disputes, all Dante's spirit rose against
their lack of patriotism. He went willingly on an embassy to desire
that Charles, the brother or cousin of King Philip of France, who had
been selected to regulate the state of Florence, should come with a
friendly feeling to his party, if his arrival could not be averted. He
remained at Rome with other ambassadors for some unknown cause, while
his party at Florence was defeated and sentence of banishment was
passed on him as on the other leaders.
Dante loved the city of his birth and was determined to return from
exile. He joined the band of _fuor-usciti_, or "turned-out," who were
at that time plotting to reverse their fortunes. He cared not whether
they were Guelf or Ghibelline in his passionate eagerness to win them
to decisive action that would restore him to his rights as a Florentine
citizen. He had no scruples in seeking foreign aid against the unjust
Florentines. An {26} armed attempt was made against Florence through
his fierce endeavours, but it failed, as also a second conspiracy
within three years, and by 1304 the poet had been seized with disgust
of his companions outside the gates. He turned from them and went to
the University of Bologna.
Dante's wife had remained in Florence, escaping from dangers, perhaps,
because she belonged to the powerful family of Donati. Now she sent
her eldest son, Pietro, to his father, with the idea that he should
begin his studies at the ancient seat of learning.
After two years of a quiet life, spent in writing his _Essay on
Eloquence_ and reading philosophy, the exile was driven away from
Bologna and had to take refuge with a noble of the Malespina family.
He hated to receive patronage, and was thankful to set to work on his
incomplete poem of the _Inferno_, which was sent to him from Florence.
The weariness of exile was forgotten as he wrote the great lines that
were to ring through the centuries and prove what manner of man his
fellow-citizens had cast forth through petty wish for revenge and
jealous hatred. He had written beautiful poems in his youth, telling
of love and chivalry and fair women. Now he took the next world for
his theme and the sufferings of those whose bodies have passed from
earth and whose souls await redemption. "Where I am sailing none has
tracked the sea" were his words, avowing an intention to forsake the
narrower limits of all poets before him.
"In the midway of this our mortal life,
I found one in a gloomy wood, astray
Gone from the path direct; and e'en to tell
It were no easy task, how savage wild
That forest, how robust and rough its growth,
Which to remember only, my dismay
Renews, in bitterness not far from death."
{27}
So the poet descended in imagination to the underworld, which he
pictured reaching in wide circles from a vortex of sin and misery to a
point of godlike ecstasy. With Vergil as a guide, he passed through
the dark portals with their solemn warning.
"Through me men pass to city of great woe,
Through me men pass to endless misery,
Through me men pass where all the lost ones go."
In 1305 the _Inferno_ was complete, and Dante left it with the monks of
a certain convent while he wandered into a far-distant country. The
Frate questioned him eagerly, asking why he had chosen to write the
poem in Italian since the vulgar tongue seemed to clothe such a
wonderful theme unbecomingly. "When I considered the condition of the
present age," the poet replied, "I saw that the songs of the most
illustrious poets were neglected of all, and for this reason
high-minded men who once wrote on such themes now left (oh! pity) the
liberal arts to the crowd. For this I laid down the pure lyre with
which I was provided and prepared for myself another more adapted to
the understanding of the moderns. For it is vain to give sucklings
solid food."
Dante fled Italy and again sat on the student's "bundle of straw,"
choosing Paris as his next refuge. There he discussed learned
questions with the wise men of France, and endured much privation as
well as the pangs of yearning for Florence, his beloved city, which
seemed to forget him. Hope rose within his breast when the
newly-elected Emperor, Henry of Luxemburg, resolved to invade Italy and
pacify the rebellious spirit of the proud republics. Orders were given
that Florence should settle her feuds once for all, {28} but the
Florentines angrily refused to acknowledge the imperial authority over
their affairs and, while recalling a certain number of the exiled,
refused to include the name of Dante.
Dante, in his fierce resentment, urged the Emperor to besiege the city
which resisted his imperial mandates. The assault was unsuccessful,
and Henry of Luxemburg died without accomplishing his laudable
intention of making Italy more peaceful.
Dante lived under the protection of the powerful Uguccione, lord of
Pisa, while he wrote the _Purgatorio_. The second part of his epic
dealt with the region lying between the under-world of torment and the
heavenly heights of Paradise itself. Here the souls of men were to be
cleansed of their sins that they might be pure in their final ecstasy.
A revolt against his patron led the poet to follow him to Verona, where
they both dwelt in friendship with the young prince, Cane della Scala.
The later cantos of the great poem, the _Divine Comedy_, were sent to
this ruler as they were written. Cane loved letters, and appreciated
Dante so generously that the exile, for a time, was moved to forget his
bitterness. He dedicated the _Paradiso_ to della Scala, but he had to
give up the arduous task of glorifying Beatrice worthily and devote
himself to some humble office at Verona. The inferiority of his
position galled one who claimed Vergil and Homer as his equals in the
world of letters. He lost all his serene tranquillity of soul, and his
face betrayed the haughty impatience of his spirit. Truly he was not
the fitting companion for the buffoons and jesters among whom he was
too often compelled to sit in the palaces where he accepted bounty. He
could not always win respect by the power of his dark and {29} piercing
eyes, for he had few advantages of person and disdained to be genial in
manners. Brooding over neglect and injustice, he grew so repellant
that Cane was secretly relieved when thoughtless, cruel levity drove
the poet from his court. He never cared, perhaps, that Dante, writing
the concluding cantos of his poem, decided sadly not to send them to
his former benefactor.
The last goal of Dante's wanderings was the ancient city of Ravenna,
where his genius was honoured by the great, and he derived a melancholy
pleasure from the wonder of the people, who would draw aside from his
path and whisper one to another: "Do you see him who goes to hell and
comes back again when he pleases?" The fame of the _Divine Comedy_ was
known to all, and men were amazed by the splendid audacity of the
_Inferno_.
Yet Dante was still an exile when death took him in 1321, and Florence
had stubbornly refused to pay him tribute. He was buried at Ravenna,
and over his tomb in the little chapel an inscription reproached his
own city with indifference.
"_Hic claudor Dantes patriis extorris ab oris,_
_Quem genuit parvi Florentia mater amoris._"
"Here I am enclosed, Dante, exiled from my native country,
Whom Florence bore, the mother that little did love him."
{30}