Francis rowed off to the ship, got the flags in readiness for hoisting,
and stood with the lines in his hand.
"Can you make them out, yet?" he hailed the men at the mastheads.
"They are mere specks yet, signor," the man at the foremast said.
The other did not reply at once, but presently he shouted down:
"Far as they are away, signor, I am almost sure that one or two of
them, at least, have something white flying."
There was a murmur of joy from the men on the deck, for Jacopo Zippo
was famous for his keenness of sight.
"Silence, men!" Francis said. "Do not let a man shout, or wave his cap,
till we are absolutely certain. Remember the agony with which those on
shore are watching us, and the awful disappointment it would be, were
their hopes raised only to be crushed, afterwards."
Another ten minutes, and Jacopo slid rapidly down by the stays, and
stood on the deck with bared head.
"God be praised, signor! I have no longer a doubt. I can tell you, for
certain, that white flags are flying from these boats."
"God be praised!" Francis replied.
"Now, up with the Lion!"
The flag was bent to the halyards and Francis hoisted it. As it rose
above the bulwark, Pisani, who was standing on a hillock of sand,
shouted out at the top of his voice:
"It is Zeno's fleet!"
A shout of joy broke from the troops. Cheer after cheer rent the air,
from ship and shore, and then the wildest excitement reigned. Some fell
on their knees, to thank God for the rescue thus sent when all seemed
lost. Others stood with clasped hands, and streaming eyes, looking
towards heaven. Some danced and shouted. Some wept with joy. Men fell
on to each other's necks, and embraced. Some threw up their caps. All
were wild with joy, and pent-up excitement.
Zeno, who, in ignorance of the terrible straits to which his countrymen
were reduced, was making with his fleet direct to Venice, was
intercepted by one of the galleys, and at once bore up for Brondolo,
and presently dropped anchor near the shore. As he did so, a boat was
lowered, and he rowed to the strand, where the Venetians crowded down
to greet him. With difficulty, he made his way through the shouting
multitude to the spot, a little distance away, where the doge was
awaiting him.
Zeno was of medium height, square shouldered and broad chested. His
head was manly and handsome, his nose aquiline, his eyes large, dark,
and piercingly bright, and shaded by strongly-marked eyebrows. His air
was grave and thoughtful, and in strong contrast to that of the merry
and buoyant Pisani. His temper was more equable, but his character was
as impulsive as that of the admiral. He was now forty-five years of
age--ten years the junior of Pisani. Zeno was intended for the church,
and was presented by the pope with the reversion of a rich prebendal
stall at Patras. On his way to Padua, to complete his studies at the
university, he was attacked by robbers, who left him for dead. He
recovered, however, and went to Padua. He became an accomplished
scholar; but was so fond of gambling that he lost every penny, and was
obliged to escape from his creditors by flight. For five years he
wandered over Italy, taking part in all sorts of adventures, and then
suddenly returned to Venice, and was persuaded by his friends to
proceed to Patras, where his stall was now vacant.
When he arrived there, he found the city besieged by the Turks. In
spite of his clerical dignity, he placed himself in the front rank of
its defenders, and distinguished himself by extreme bravery. He was
desperately wounded, and was again believed to be dead. He was even
placed in his coffin; but just as it was being nailed down, he showed
signs of returning life. He did not stay long at Patras, but travelled
in Germany, France, and England.
Soon after he returned to Patras he fought a duel, and thereby
forfeited his stall. He now renounced the clerical profession, and
married a wealthy heiress. She died shortly afterwards, and he married
the daughter of the Admiral Marco Giustiniani.
He now entered upon political life, and soon showed brilliant talents.
He was then appointed to the military command of the district of
Treviso, which the Paduans were then invading. Here he very greatly
distinguished himself, and in numberless engagements was always
successful, so that he became known as Zeno the Unconquered.
When Pisani was appointed captain general, in April, 1378, he was
appointed governor of Negropont, and soon afterwards received a
separate naval command. He had been lost sight of for many months,
prior to his appearance so opportunely before Brondolo, and he now
confirmed to the doge the news that had been received shortly before.
He had captured nearly seventy Genoese vessels, of various sizes, had
cruised for some time in sight of Genoa, struck a heavy blow at her
commerce, and prevented the despatch of the reinforcements promised to
Doria. Among the vessels taken was one which was carrying three hundred
thousand ducats from Genoa.
He reported himself ready with his men to take up the brunt of the
siege forthwith, and selecting Brondolo as the most dangerous position,
at once landed his crews. The stores on board ship were also brought
ashore, and proved ample for the present necessities of the army.
In a few days, he sailed with his galleys and recaptured Loredo,
driving out the Paduan garrison there. This conquest was all important
to Venice, for it opened their communication with Ferrara, and vast
stores of provisions were at once sent by their ally to Venice, and the
pressure of starvation immediately ceased.
The siege of Brondolo was now pushed on, and on the 22nd of January the
great bombard, the Victory, so battered the wall opposite to it that it
fell suddenly, crushing beneath its ruins the Genoese commander, Doria.
The change which three weeks had made in the appearance of the Venetian
forces was marvellous. Ample food, firing, and shelter had restored
their wasted frames, and assurance of victory had taken the place of
the courage of despair. A month of toil, hardship, and fighting had
converted a mob of recruits into disciplined soldiers, and Zeno and
Pisani seemed to have filled all with their own energy and courage.
Zeno, indeed, was so rash and fearless that he had innumerable escapes
from death.
One evening after dusk his own vessel, having been accidentally torn
from its anchorage near the Lova Fort by the force of the wind and
currents, was driven across the passage against the enemy's forts,
whence showers of missiles were poured into it. One arrow pierced his
throat. Dragging it out, he continued to issue his orders for getting
the galley off the shore--bade a seaman swim with a line to the
moorings, and angrily rebuked those who, believing destruction to be
inevitable, entreated him to strike his flag. The sailor reached the
moorings, and, with a line he had taken, made fast a strong rope to it,
and the vessel was then hauled off into a place of safety. As Zeno
hurried along the deck, superintending the operation, he tumbled down
an open hatchway, and fell on his back, almost unconscious. In a few
moments he would have been suffocated by the blood from the wound in
his throat, but with a final effort he managed to roll over on to his
face, the wound was thus permitted to bleed freely, and he soon
recovered.
On the 28th of February, he was appointed general in chief of the land
forces, and the next day drove the Genoese from all their positions on
the islands of Brondolo and Little Chioggia, and on the following
morning established his headquarters under the ramparts of Chioggia,
and directed a destructive fire upon the citadel. As the Genoese fell
back across the bridge over the Canal of Santa Caterina, the structure
gave way under their weight, and great numbers were drowned. The
retreat of the Genoese was indeed so hurried and confused, and they
left behind them an immense quantity of arms, accoutrements, and war
material, so much so that suits of mail were selling for a few
shillings in the Venetian camp.
So completely were the Genoese disheartened, by the change in their
position, that many thought that the Venetians could at once have taken
Chioggia by assault; but the leaders were determined to risk no
failure, and knew that the enemy must yield to hunger. They therefore
contented themselves with a rigorous blockade, cutting off all the
supplies which the Lord of Padua endeavoured to throw into the city.
The Venetians, however, allowed the besieged to send away their women
and children, who were taken to Venice and kindly treated there.
The army of Venice had now been vastly increased, by the arrival of the
Star Company of Milan, and the Condottieri commanded by Sir John
Hawkwood. The dikes, erected across the channels with so much labour,
were removed, and the fleet took their part in the siege.
On the 14th of May there was joy in Chioggia, similar to that which the
Venetians had felt at the sight of Zeno's fleet, for on that morning
the squadron, which Genoa had sent to their assistance under the
command of Matteo Maruffo, appeared in sight. This admiral had wasted
much valuable time on the way, but had fallen in with and captured,
after a most gallant resistance, five Venetian galleys under
Giustiniani, who had been despatched to Apulia to fetch grain.
The Genoese fleet drew up in order of battle, and challenged Pisani to
come out to engage them. But, impetuous as was the disposition of the
admiral, and greatly as he longed to avenge his defeat at Pola, he
refused to stir. He knew that Chioggia must, ere long, fall, and he
would not risk all the advantages gained, by so many months of toil and
effort, upon the hazard of a battle. Day after day Maruffo repeated his
challenge, accompanied by such insolent taunts that the blood of the
Venetian sailors was so stirred that Pisani could no longer restrain
them. After obtaining leave from the doge to go out and give battle, he
sailed into the roadstead on the 25th. The two fleets drew up in line
of battle, facing each other. Just as the combat was about to commence
a strange panic seized the Genoese, and, without exchanging a blow or
firing a shot, they fled hastily. Pisani pursued them for some miles,
and then returned to his old station.
The grief and despair of the garrison of Chioggia, at the sight of the
retreat of their fleet, was in proportion to the joy with which they
had hailed its approach. Their supply of fresh water was all but
exhausted. Their rations had become so scanty that, from sheer
weakness, they were unable, after the first week in June, to work their
guns.
Genoa, in despair at the position of her troops, laboured unceasingly
to relieve them. Emissaries were sent to tamper with the free
companies, and succeeded so far that these would have marched away, had
they not been appeased by the promise of a three days' sack of
Chioggia, and a month's extra pay at the end of the war. Attempts were
made to assassinate Zeno, but these also failed. The Genoese then
induced the pope to intercede on their behalf; but the council
remembered that when Venice was at the edge of destruction, on the 31st
of December, no power had come forward to save her, and refused now to
be robbed of the well-earned triumph.
On the 15th of July, Maruffo, who had received reinforcements again
made his appearance; but Pisani this time refused to be tempted out. On
the 21st a deputation was sent out from Chioggia to ask for terms, and
though, on being told that an unconditional surrender alone would be
accepted, they returned to the city, yet the following day the Genoese
flag was hauled down from the battlements.
On the 24th the doge, accompanied by Pisani and Zeno, made his formal
entry into Chioggia. The booty was enormous; and the companies received
the promised bounty, and were allowed to pillage for three days. So
large was the plunder collected, in this time, by the adventurers, that
the share of one of them amounted to five hundred ducats. The republic,
however, did not come off altogether without spoil--they obtained
nineteen seaworthy galleys, four thousand four hundred and forty
prisoners, and a vast amount of valuable stores, the salt alone being
computed as worth ninety thousand crowns.
Not even when the triumphant fleet returned, after the conquest of
Constantinople, was Venice so wild with delight, as when the doge,
accompanied by Pisani and Zeno, entered the city in triumph after the
capture of Chioggia. From the danger, more imminent than any that had
threatened Venice from her first foundation, they had emerged with a
success which would cripple the strength, and lower the pride of Genoa
for years. Each citizen felt that he had some share in the triumph, for
each had taken his share in the sufferings, the sacrifices, and the
efforts of the struggle. There had been no unmanly giving way to
despair, no pitiful entreaty for aid in their peril. Venice had relied
upon herself, and had come out triumphant.
From every house hung flags and banners, every balcony was hung with
tapestry and drapery. The Grand Canal was closely packed with gondolas,
which, for once, disregarded the sumptuary law that enforced black as
their only hue, and shone in a mass of colour. Gaily dressed ladies sat
beneath canopies of silk and velvet; flags floated from every boat, and
the rowers were dressed in the bright liveries of their employers. The
church bells rang out with a deafening clang, and from roof and
balcony, from wharf and river, rang out a mighty shout of welcome and
triumph from the crowded mass, as the great state gondola, bearing the
doge and the two commanders, made its way, slowly and with difficulty,
along the centre of the canal.
Francis was on board one of the gondolas that followed in the wake of
that of the doge, and as soon as the grand service in Saint Mark's was
over, he slipped off and made his way back to the Palazzo Polani. The
merchant and Giulia had both been present at the ceremony, and had just
returned when he arrived.
"I guessed you would be off at once, Francisco, directly the ceremony
was over. I own that I, myself, would have stayed for a time to see the
grand doings in the Piazza, but this child would not hear of our doing
so. She said it would be a shame, indeed, if you should arrive home and
find no one to greet you."
"So it would have been," Giulia said. "I am sure I should not have
liked, when I have been away, even on a visit of pleasure to Corfu, to
return and find the house empty; and after the terrible dangers and
hardships you have gone through, Francisco, it would have been unkind,
indeed, had we not been here. You still look thin and worn."
"I think that is fancy on your part, Giulia. To my eyes he looks as
stout as ever I saw him. But certainly he looked as lean and famished
as a wolf, when I paid that visit to the camp the day before Zeno's
arrival. His clothes hung loose about him, his cheeks were hollow, and
his eyes sunken. He would have been a sight for men to stare at, had
not every one else been in an equally bad case.
"Well, I thank God there is an end of it, now! Genoa will be glad to
make peace on any terms, and the sea will once more be open to our
ships. So now, Francisco, you have done with fighting, and will be able
to turn your attention to the humbler occupation of a merchant."
"That will I right gladly," Francis said. "I used to think, once, I
should like to be a man-at-arms; but I have seen enough of it, and hope
I never will draw my sword again, unless it be in conflict with some
Moorish rover. I have had many letters from my father, chiding me for
mingling in frays in which I have no concern, and shall be able to
gladden his heart, by writing to assure him that I have done with
fighting."
"It has done you no harm, Francisco, or rather it has done you much
good. It has given you the citizenship of Venice, in itself no slight
advantage to you as a trader here. It has given you three hundred
ducats a year, which, as a mark of honour, is not to be despised. It
has won for you a name throughout the republic, and has given you a
fame and popularity such as few, if any, citizens of Venice ever
attained at your age. Lastly, it has made a man of you. It has given
you confidence and self possession. You have acquired the habit of
commanding men. You have been placed in positions which have called for
the exercise of rare judgment, prudence, and courage; and you have come
well through it all. It is but four years since your father left you a
lad in my keeping. Now you are a man, whom the highest noble in Venice
might be proud of calling his son. You have no reason to regret,
therefore, that you have, for a year, taken up soldiering instead of
trading, especially as our business was all stopped by the war, and you
must have passed your time in inactivity."
In the evening, when the merchant and Francis were alone together, the
former said:
"I told you last autumn, Francis, when I informed you that, henceforth,
you would enter into my house as a partner in the business, when we
again recommenced trade, that I had something else in my mind, but the
time to speak of it had not then arrived. I think it has now come. Tell
me, my boy, frankly, if there is anything that you would wish to ask of
me."
Francis was silent for a moment; then he said:
"You have done so much, Signor Polani. You have heaped kindness upon
me, altogether beyond anything I could have hoped for, that, even did I
wish for more, I could not ask it."
"Then there is something more you would like, Francisco. Remember that
I have told you that I regard you as a son, and therefore I wish you to
speak to me, as frankly as if I was really your father."
"I fear, signor, that you will think me audacious, but since you thus
urge upon me to speak all that is in my mind, I cannot but tell you the
truth. I love your daughter, Giulia, and have done so ever since the
first day that my eyes fell on her. It has seemed to me too much, even
to hope, that she can ever be mine, and I have been careful in letting
no word expressive of my feelings pass my lips. It still seems, to me,
beyond the bounds of possibility that I could successfully aspire to
the hand of the daughter of one of the noblest families in Venice."
"I am glad you have spoken frankly, dear lad," the merchant said. "Ever
since you rescued my daughters from the hands of Mocenigo, it has been
on my mind that someday, perhaps, you would be my son-in-law, as well
as my son by adoption. I have watched with approval that, as Giulia
grew from a child into a young woman, her liking for you seemed to
ripen into affection. This afternoon I have spoken to her, and she has
acknowledged that she would obey my commands, to regard you as her
future husband, with gladness.
"I could not, however, offer my daughter's hand to one who might reject
it, or who, if he accepted it, would only do so because he considered
the match to be a desirable one, from a business point of view. Now
that you have told me you love her, all difficulties are at an end. I
am not one of those fathers who would force a marriage upon their
daughters, regardless of their feelings. I gave to Maria free choice
among her various suitors, and so I would give it to Giulia. Her choice
is in accordance with my own secret hopes, and I therefore, freely and
gladly, bestow her upon you. You must promise only that you do not
carry her away altogether to England, so long as I live. You can, if
you like, pay long visits with her from time to time to your native
country, but make Venice your headquarters.
"I need say nothing to you about her dowry. I intended that, as my
partner, you should take a fourth share of the profits of the business;
but as Giulia's husband, I shall now propose that you have a third.
This will give you an income equal to that of all but the wealthiest of
the nobles of Venice. At my death, my fortune will be divided between
my girls."
Francis expressed, in a few words, his joy and gratitude at the
merchant's offer. Giulia had inspired him, four years before, with a
boyish love, and it had steadily increased until he felt that, however
great his success in life as Messer Polani's partner, his happiness
would be incomplete unless shared by Giulia. Polani cut short his words
by saying:
"My dear boy, I am as pleased that this should be so as you are. I now
feel that I have, indeed, gained a son and secured the happiness of my
daughter. Go in to her now. You will find her in the embroidery room. I
told her that I should speak to you this evening, and she is doubtless
in a tremble as to the result, for she told me frankly that, although
she loved you, she feared you only regarded her with the affection of a
brother, and she implored me, above all, not to give you a hint of her
feelings towards you, until I was convinced that you really loved her."
Two months later, the marriage of Francis Hammond and Giulia Polani
took place. There were great festivities, and the merchant spent a
considerable sum in giving a feast, on the occasion, to all the poor of
Venice. Maria told Francis, in confidence, that she had always made up
her mind that he would marry Giulia.
"The child was silly enough to fall in love with you from the first,
Francisco, and I was sure that you, in your dull English fashion, cared
for her. My father confided to me, long since, that he hoped it would
come about."
Francis Hammond lived for many years with his wife in Venice, paying
occasional visits to England. He was joined, soon after his marriage,
by his brother, who, after serving for some years in the business,
entered it as a partner, when Messer Polani's increasing years rendered
it necessary for him to retire from an active participation in it.
Some months after his marriage, Francis was saddened by the death of
Admiral Pisani, who never recovered from the fatigue and hardships he
suffered during the siege of Chioggia. He had, with the fleet,
recovered most of the places that the Genoese had captured, and after
chasing a Genoese fleet to Zara, had a partial engagement with them
there. In this, Corbaro, now holding the commission of admiral of the
squadron, was killed, and Pisani himself wounded. He was already
suffering from fever; and the loss of Corbaro, and the check that the
fleet had suffered, increased his malady, and he expired three days
later.
Venice made peace with Genoa, but the grudge which she bore to Padua
was not wiped out until some years later, when, in 1404, that city was
besieged by the Venetians, and forced by famine to surrender in the
autumn of the following year; after which Zeno, having been proved to
have kept up secret communications with the Lord of Padua, was deprived
of his honours and sentenced to a year's imprisonment. Thus, in turn,
the two great Venetian commanders suffered disgrace and imprisonment.
As she had been patient and steadfast in her time of distress, Venice
was clement in her hour of triumph, and granted far more favourable
terms to Padua than that city deserved.
At the death of Messer Polani, Francis returned with his wife and
family to England, and established himself in London, where he at once
took rank as one of the leading merchants. His fortune, however, was so
large, that he had no occasion to continue in commerce, and he did so
only to afford him a certain amount of occupation. His brother carried
on the business in Venice, and became one of the leading citizens
there, in partnership with Matteo Giustiniani. Every two or three years
Francis made a voyage with his wife to Venice and spent some months
there, and to the end of his life never broke off his close connection
with the City of the Waters.