Venice and Its Story
by Thomas Okey · English · Gutenberg #41209 · 648,940 chars · public domain (US)
The Project Gutenberg eBook of Venice and Its Story
This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and
most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions
whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms
of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online
at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States,
you will have to check the laws of the country where you are located
before using this eBook.
Title: Venice and Its Story
Author: Thomas Okey
Illustrator: Nelly Erichsen
active 1895-1911 Woodbine K. Hinchliff
O. F. M. Ward
Release date: October 28, 2012 [eBook #41209]
Language: English
Other information and formats: www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/41209
Credits: Produced by Chuck Greif and the Online Distributed
Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was
produced from images available The Internet Archive)
*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK VENICE AND ITS STORY ***
Produced by Chuck Greif and the Online Distributed
Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was
produced from images available The Internet Archive)
The original book’s spelling of peoples’ and places’ names have not been
altered or corrected in this etext.
VENICE AND ITS STORY
_First Edition, October 1903_
_Second Edition, November 1903_
_Third, Revised and Cheaper Edition, September 1910_
_All Rights Reserved_
[Illustration: DOGE LEONARDO LOREDAN.
By GIOV. BELLINI.
(In the National Gallery)]
VENICE
AND ITS STORY
BY
T. OKEY
[Illustration]
ILLUSTRATED BY
NELLY ERICHSEN
W. K. HINCHLIFF &
O. F. M. WARD
1910
LONDON: J. M. DENT & SONS, LTD.
NEW YORK: E. P. DUTTON & CO.
“_Italie is the face of Europe
Venice the eie of Italie._”
PREFACE
The History of Venice is the history of a State unparalleled in Europe
for permanence and stability. For centuries Venice occupied that
position of maritime supremacy now held by Great Britain, and time was
when an English king was fain to crave the loan of a few warships to
vindicate his rights in France. The autonomy of the Venetian Republic so
imposed on men’s minds that it was regarded as in the very nature of
things, and even so acute an observer as Voltaire wrote in the
_Dictionnaire Philosophique_, less than three decades before her fall:
“Venice has preserved her independence during eleven centuries, and I
flatter myself will preserve it for ever.”
In the course of our story we have freely drawn from the old chronicles,
while not neglecting modern historians, chiefest of whom is the
Triestine Hebrew scholar, Samuele Romanin. Indeed, all that has been
written on Venetian history during the past forty years does but
increase our admiration for the imperturbable industry and sagacious
judgment of the author of the _Storia Documentata di Venezia_, to whom
our heaviest debt is due.
The history, criticism and appreciation of Venetian architecture and
Venetian painting are indissolubly associated with the genius of Ruskin,
and notwithstanding some waywardness of judgment and spoilt-child
philosophy, his writings are, and ever will be, the classic works on the
subject. Among more recent authorities we are indebted to the
publications of Berenson, Bode, Burckhardt, Ludwig, Morelli, and
Saccardo.
For purposes of description we have divided the city and outlying
islands of the Venetian lagoon into twenty sections, arranged rather
with regard to their relative historical and artistic importance than to
strict topographical considerations, although these have not been lost
sight of. In our quality of _cicerone_ we have drawn from an
acquaintance of the city at various times extending over a period of
twenty years: more detailed and practical information may be sought in
the admirable guide-books of Baedeker, Grant Allen, Gsellfels and
Murray.
A pleasant duty is that of expressing our gratitude for personal help
and counsel to, among others, Mr Horatio F. Brown, Signor Cantalamessa
the courteous Director of the Accademia, Mr Bolton King, Signor Alfredo
Melani, and Mr René Spiers.
In order not to burden our pages with many notes we have limited
references to such passages as seemed specially to call for them,
exigencies of space having straitened a wide subject within close
bounds. If, however, the perusal of this slight and imperfect sketch may
lead intending travellers to turn to richer springs--and in that hope we
have appended a list of the main sources[1] from which we have
drawn--our pleasant labours will be amply rewarded. It is with travel as
with other modes of observation. The eye will see what the mind takes
with it, for as the Spanish proverb quoted by Dr Johnson runs: “He who
would bring home the wealth of the Indies must carry the wealth of the
Indies with him.”
CONTENTS
PART I.--THE STORY
CHAPTER I
.....PAGE
THE FOUNDATION AT RIALTO.....1
CHAPTER II
ST MARK THE PATRON OF VENICE--THE BRIDES OF ST MARK--CONQUEST
OF DALMATIA--LIMITATION OF THE DOGE’S POWER.....17
CHAPTER III
EXPANSION IN THE EAST--RECONCILIATION OF POPE ALEXANDER III.
AND THE EMPEROR BARBAROSSA--THE WEDDING OF THE
ADRIATIC.....35
CHAPTER IV
ENRICO DANDOLO AND THE CAPTURE OF CONSTANTINOPLE.....56
CHAPTER V
THE ARISTOCRACY--WAR WITH THE GENOESE--LOSS OF CONSTANTINOPLE.....72
CHAPTER VI
THE DUEL WITH GENOA--THE CLOSING OF THE GREAT COUNCIL.....85
CHAPTER VII
THE OLIGARCHY--COMMERCIAL SUPREMACY--THE BAJAMONTE CONSPIRACY--THE
COUNCIL OF THE TEN--THE PRISONS.....103
CHAPTER VIII
CONQUESTS ON THE MAINLAND--EXECUTION OF MARIN FALIERO--THE
FALL OF GENOA.....118
CHAPTER IX
AGGRESSION ON THE MAINLAND--ARREST AND EXECUTION OF CARMAGNOLA--THE
TWO FOSCARI.....135
CHAPTER X
THE TURKISH TERROR--ACQUISITION OF CYPRUS--DISCOVERY OF THE
CAPE ROUTE TO INDIA--THE FRENCH INVASIONS--THE LEAGUE
OF CAMBRAI--DECLINE OF VENICE.....152
CHAPTER XI
LOSS OF CYPRUS--LEPANTO--PAOLO SARPI--ATTACK ON THE
TEN--LOSS OF CRETE--TEMPORARY RECONQUEST OF THE
MOREA--DECADENCE--THE END.....170
CHAPTER XII
_The Fine Arts at Venice_
MASONS--PAINTERS--GLASS-WORKERS--PRINTERS.....187
PART II.--THE CITY
SECTION I
ARRIVAL--THE PIAZZA.....215
SECTION II
THE BASILICA OF ST MARK.....222
SECTION III
THE DUCAL PALACE.....241
SECTION IV
THE ACCADEMIA.....252
SECTION V
THE GRAND CANAL AND S. GIORGIO MAGGIORE.....263
SECTION VI
S. ZULIAN--S. MARIA FORMOSA--S. ZANIPOLO (SS. GIOVANNI E
PAOLO)--THE COLLEONI STATUE--THE SCUOLA DI S. MARCO--S.
MARIA DEI MIRACOLI.....275
SECTION VII
THE FRARI--THE SCUOLA AND CHURCH OF S. ROCCO.....281
SECTION VIII
S. ZACCARIA--S. GIORGIO DEGLI SCHIAVONI--S. FRANCESCO DELLA
VIGNA.....286
SECTION IX
THE RIVA DEGLI SCHIAVONI--S. MARIA DELLA PIETÀ--PETRARCH’S
HOUSE--S. GIOVANNI IN BRAGORO--S. MARTINO--THE
ARSENAL--THE PUBLIC GARDENS--S. PIETRO IN CASTELLO.....289
SECTION X
S. SALVATORE--CORTE DEL MILIONE--S. GIOVANNI GRISOSTOMO.....292
SECTION XI
S. MOISÈ--S. STEFANO--SITE OF THE ALDINE PRESS--IL BOVOLO--S.
VITALE--S. VIO--THE SALUTE--THE SEMINARIO.....295
SECTION XII
SS. APOSTOLI-PALAZZO FALIER--I GESUITI--I CROCIFERI--S.
CATERINA--S. MARIA DELL’ORTO--S. MARZIALE--PALAZZO
GIOVANELLI.....298
SECTION XIII
THE RIALTO--S. GIACOMO DEL RIALTO--S. GIOVANNI ELEMOSINARIO--S.
CASSIANO--S. MARIA MATER DOMINI--MUSEO CIVICO.....301
SECTION XIV
S. SEBASTIANO--S. MARIA DEL CARMINE--S. PANTALEONE--THE
COBBLERS’ GUILDHALL--S. POLO--S. APOLLINARE.....305
SECTION XV
GIUDECCA--THE REDENTORE--S. TROVASO.....309
SECTION XVI
PALAZZO LABIA--S. GIOBBE--THE GHETTI--GLI SCALZI.....310
SECTION XVII
TITIAN’S HOUSE--S. MICHELE IN ISOLA--MURANO.....314
SECTION XVIII
TORCELLO--S. FRANCESCO DEL DESERTO.....318
SECTION XIX
S. NICOLO DEL LIDO.....320
SECTION XX
CHIOGGIA.....322
APPENDIX I
LIST OF DOGES.....325
APPENDIX II
BIBLIOGRAPHY.....326
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
LIST OF COLOURED ILLUSTRATIONS
DOGE LEONARDO LOREDAN. IN THE NATIONAL GALLERY.
BY GIOVANNI BELLINI _Frontispiece_
THE CUSTOMS HOUSE _facing page_ 6
BASIN OF S. MARCO 10
S. MARCO FROM PIAZZETTA DEI LEONI 23
A GIRL OF CASTELLO 25
S. MARCO--FAÇADE 26
S. MARCO--SHRINE OF THE HOLY CROSS 37
S. MARCO--INTERIOR--CHAPEL OF S. CLEMENTE 45
THE PIAZZETTA AND COLUMN OF ST MARK 50
S. MARCO--CHOIR 61
SUNSET ON THE ZATTERE 71
ISLE OF S. FRANCESCO DEL DESERTO 74
S. MARCO FROM COLONNADE OF PALAZZO DUCALE 82
DOGE’S PALACE FROM ISOLA S. GIORGIO 90
ON THE GRAND CANAL 96
BOATS AT ANCHOR 103
THE CLOCK TOWER AND ENTRANCE TO MERCERIA 108
S. GIORGIO AND THE SALUTE 116
SUNSET--MODERN VENICE 132
RIO AND PONTE DI SANTA MARIA MAGGIORE 138
A FRUIT STALL 149
THE FISH-MARKET 158
CURIOSITY-SHOP NEAR PIAZZA 165
A WINE-SHOP 172
PONTE DI RIALTO 181
PONTE DI RIALTO FROM THE MARKET 190
IN THE PROCURATIE NUOVE 195
ON THE STEPS OF THE “REDENTORE” 204
A VENETIAN WOMAN 213
A GONDOLIER 220
I TRE PONTI 229
PONTE DEI SOSPIRI 244
GRAND CANAL--PALAZZI REZZONICO AND FOSCARI 266
SCUOLA DI S. MARCO AND STATUE OF COLLEONI 280
SCUOLA DI S. ROCCA 285
S. FOSCA AND PALAZZO GIOVANELLI 293
RIO S. CASSIANO 300
TIMBER BOATS 309
CANNAREGGIO 312
VENICE FROM THE LIDO 320
REPRODUCTIONS OF PICTURES
_From Photographs by Alinari_
PORTRAIT OF SULTAN MAHOMET II. IN THE PALAZZO
LAYARD. BY GENTILE BELLINI _facing page_ 196
MADONNA ENTHRONED AND FOUR SAINTS. IN S. ZACCARIA.
BY GIOVANNI BELLINI 198
ST GEORGE AND THE DRAGON. IN S. GIORGIO MAGGIORE.
BY CARPACCIO 198
THE BAPTIST AND FOUR SAINTS. IN THE MADONNA DELL’ORTO.
BY CIMA 200
S. CRISTINA. IN S. MARIA MATER DOMINI. BY
CATENA 202
THE DEAD CHRIST. IN THE ACCADEMIA. BY TITIAN 204
PRESENTATION OF ST MARK’S RING TO THE DOGE. IN
THE ACCADEMIA. BY BORDONE 208
THE MARRIAGE OF ST. CATHERINE. IN ST. CATERINA.
BY VERONESE 210
THE MARRIAGE OF ST. CATHERINE. IN THE DUCAL
PALACE. BY TINTORETTO 246
THE RICH MAN’S FEAST. IN THE ACCADEMIA. BY
BONIFAZIO 256
GIPSY AND SOLDIER. IN THE PALAZZO GIOVANNELLI. BY
GIORGIONE 300
ILLUSTRATIONS IN THE TEXT
PAGE
HEADPIECE TO PART I. CHAPTER I. 1
ON THE LAGOONS 3
S. FOSCA AND THE DUOMO, TORCELLO 4
PONTE S. GIUSTINA 5
(_a_) EARLY DUCAL CAP FROM AN OLD MOSAIC IN ST MARK; (_b_)
EARLY DUCAL CAP OF DOGE MORO, FROM THE PORTRAIT
IN S. GIOBBE 8
CLOISTERS OF S. GREGORIO 14
FISHING BOATS 15
CLOISTER OF S. FRANCESCA DELLA VIGNA 18
S. PIETRO IN CASTELLO FROM S. ELENA 23
VINE PERGOLA ON THE GIUDECCA 31
THE SQUERO, S. TROVASO 40
S. MARCO AND THE DOGE’S PALACE, WITH THE LOGGETTA IN THE
FOREGROUND 48
COLUMNS OF SS. MARK AND THEODORE 51
S. MARCO--INTERIOR, WITH PULPIT 58
S. MARCO--FAÇADE AND CAMPANILE 86
DOGE’S PALACE--THE JUDGMENT OF SOLOMON CORNER 94
REMAINS OF MARCO POLO’S HOUSE 99
DOGE’S PALACE--SALA DEL MAGGIOR CONSIGLIO 100
PONTE DI PAGLIA 112
THE PALAZZI GIUSTINIANI AND FOSCARI 126
CLOISTER OF S. GREGORIO 142
STATUE OF BARTOLOMEO COLLEONI 145
BUST OF FRANCESCO FOSCARI 150
PALAZZO DARIO 160
THE PIAZZETTA 217
S. MARCO--MAIN PORTAL 224
S. MARCO--DETAIL OF ARCHIVOLT 225
S. MARCO--DETAIL OF MAIN DOOR 226
BYZANTINE RELIEF--NORTH SIDE, S. MARCO 228
BYZANTINE RELIEF FROM SOUTH SIDE, S. MARCO 229
CAPITALS, ATRIUM, S. MARCO 230
S. GIORGIO MAGGIORE 236
DOGE’S PALACE--THE CORTILE 248
GRAND CANAL, WITH THE RIVA DEL CARBON AND RIALTO BRIDGE 267
CA’ D’ORO 268
PALAZZO VENDRAMIN 271
TRAGHETTO AND CAMPO S. SAMUELE 272
STATUE OF BARTOLOMEO COLLEONI 280
HEADPIECE TO SECTION IX. 289
VENICE FROM THE PUBLIC GARDENS 290
WELL-HEAD, CAMPO S. GIOVANNI GRISOSTOMO 294
THE RIALTO BRIDGE 294
PALAZZO CONTARINI, WITH SPIRAL STAIRCASE AND BYZANTINE
WELL-HEAD 296
S. MARIA DELLA SALUTE 296
EDICT STONE, RIALTO 301
BYZANTINE CROSSES--CAMPO S. MARIA MATER DOMINI 302
DOORWAY WITH COLOURED RELIEF OF SS. MARK AND ANIANUS;
COBBLERS’ GUILD HOUSE, CAMPO S. TOMÀ 307
FISHING BOATS ON THE GIUDECCA 311
HEADPIECE TO SECTION XVII. 314
MURANO 315
VENICE FROM THE SOUTH 322
MAPS
SKETCH MAP OF ITALY AND THE EASTERN MEDITERRANEAN _facing page_ 1
VENICE IN THE SIXTEENTH CENTURY 215
[Illustration: _SKETCH MAP of ITALY & the EASTERN MEDITERRANEAN_]
[Illustration]
PART I.--THE STORY
CHAPTER I
_The Foundation at Rialto_
“Venice seems a type
Of life--’twixt blue and blue extends, a stripe,
As life, the somewhat, hangs ’twixt nought and nought.”
--_Browning._
Of the original home of the earliest settlers in that province of North
Italy known to the Latins as Venetia, little can be told with certainty.
Historians and antiquarians are pleased to bring them, under the name of
Heneti or Eneti, from Paphlagonia, and explain some characteristic
traits they subsequently developed--the love of colour and of display,
the softness of their dialect--by their eastern origin. They were an
independent, thriving and organised community when the Roman Empire
first accepted their aid in the fierce struggle against the invading
Gauls, and so they continued to be until they were absorbed as a
province of the Empire. The land they cultivated, “mervailous in corne,
wine, oyle, and all manner of fruites,” was one of the richest in
Europe. Its soil was formed by ages of alluvial deposit brought by the
rapid streams that drain the southern slopes of the Alps.
The traveller who enters Italy by any of the Alpine passes will not fail
to note the contrast between the northern streams and the more
torrential water-ways of the south, which, however, being soon checked
by the deposit they bring, grow slack and fray out into many and varying
channels, through which the waters find their way with small, at times
almost imperceptible, flow into the sea. So lazily do the rivers
discharge that the north-east shores of the Adriatic are formed of
sandbanks, shoals and islets, which for nigh a hundred miles from
Cavarzere to Grado constituted the _dogado_ of Venice. The famous
Venetian lagoon is confined to some thirty miles north of Chioggia, and
is divided into the _Laguna morta_, where the tide is scarcely felt, and
the _Laguna viva_, where the sea is studded with numerous islands and
islets protected by the _lidi_, a long line of remarkable breakwaters
formed by the prevailing set of the current to the west, with narrow
openings or _Porti_ through which the shallow tide ebbs and flows. This
natural barrier has made the existence of Venice possible, for the
islands on which the city is built afforded a refuge safe alike from
attack by sea or land. The colonisation, development and defence of
these lagoons and islands by settlers from the mainland make up the
early history of Venice. Some misapprehension exists as to the nature of
these settlements. The picture of terror-stricken and despoiled
fugitives from the cities of Venetia escaping from hordes of pursuing
Huns or Lombards to seek a refuge in the barren and uncertain soil of
mud-banks and storm-swept islands is true in part only. In many cases
the movement was a deliberately organised migration of urban
communities, with their officers, their craftsmen, their tools, their
sacred vessels, even the very stones of their churches, to towns and
villages already known to them. Among the settlers were men of all
classes--patrician and plebeian, rich and poor. “But they would receive
no man of servile condition, or a murderer, or of wicked life.”
[Illustration: ON THE LAGOONS]
Some islands were already inhabited by a hardy race of pilots and
fishermen: others by prosperous Roman patricians, with their villas,
farms, gardens and orchards. Grado was a busy commercial settlement with
rich vineyards and meadows, and joined to the mainland by a causeway
that led to Aquileia. Heraclea was rather a mainland than a lagoon city;
Torcello is said to have been a fashionable Roman watering-place, and
Roman remains have been found at S. Giorgio Maggiore. Much of the ground
was covered with pine forests, the haunts of game and other wild
creatures. For a long time the islands were not regarded by the settlers
as abiding places. Again and again many of them returned to their old
homes on the mainland when the invaders’ force was spent. It was only in
568 that the Lombards, more cruel, or perhaps more systematic in their
oppression than Marcoman or Hun, finally determined the Venetians to
make the lagoons their permanent home.
Who of us northmen that has reached the descending slope of an Alpine
pass, it may be through mist and sleet and snow, to gaze upon the rich
and luscious plains of Lombardy or Venetia smiling with vine and fruit
and corn; who that has felt the warm breath of sun-steeped Italy
caressing his face as he emerges from northern gloom, but will feel a
twinge of envy which is akin to covetousness, and which in strong and
masterful races quickly develops into lust of conquest?
In the fifth century of our era the Roman Empire decaying, like most
giants, at the extremities, lay defenceless before the inroads of those
forceful, elemental peoples who from north and east swept down the
passes to ravage the garden of Italy and to enslave her inhabitants. In
452 Venetia became the prey of God’s scourge--Attila. Aquileia, now a
poor village just within the Austrian frontier, but then a Roman city of
the first rank, was plundered. Altinum, a city famous for its strength
and wealth, resisted for a time but soon its inhabitants and those of
Padua, Asolo, Belluno and other mainland cities forsook their homes and
migrated to the lagoons.
The earliest settlements were twelve: Grado, Bibbione, Caorle, Jesolo
(now Cavallino), Eraclea, Torcello, Burano, Rivoalto (now Venice),
Malamocco, Poveglia, Cluges Minor (actual site now unknown, but not
Sotto Marina, as sometimes stated), Cluges Major (now Chioggia). Of
these, Grado was occupied by the Aquileians; Rivoalto and Malamocco by
the Paduans; Eraclea by the Bellonsese; Torcello and Burano by the
Altinese. To the pious imagination of chroniclers these migrations were
not without divine admonition. In 568 the terrible Lombards were
threatening Altinum, whose inhabitants entreated the help of heaven with
tears and prayers and fastings; and, lo! they saw the doves and many
other birds bearing their young in their beaks flying from their nests
in the walls of the city. This was interpreted as a sign from God that
they also were to expatriate themselves and seek safety in flight. They
divided into three bodies, one of which turned to Istria, another to
Ravenna. The third remained behind, uncertain whither to direct their
steps. Three days they fasted, and at length a voice was heard saying:
“_Salite alla torre e guardate agli astri._” (Ascend the tower and look
at the stars.)
[Illustration: S. FOSCA AND THE DUOMO, TORCELLO]
[Illustration: PONTE S. GIUSTINA]
Their good Bishop Paul climbed the tower, and to his gaze the very stars
of the firmament seemed to set themselves in a constellation that
figured forth the fateful group of islands in the lagoon before him. His
flock, following this warning from heaven, went forth, headed by their
bishop and clergy bearing the sacred vessels and relics, and passed to
an island high and fertile, which they called Torcello, from one of the
twelve towers of their old city. The very hierarchy of heaven, from Our
Lord and His Blessed Mother to St Peter and the Baptist, even to
Giustina, the martyred little maid of Padua, appeared to Mauro, the
priest, in a vision, as he paced the sea shore, and in sweet voices bade
him build here a church and there a church in their honour. The
immigrants therefore had come to make the lagoons their permanent home.
Their new city was organised. In process of time churches were built;
trade guilds were formed; painters and mosaicists enriched the
buildings. The marble seat on the grass-grown piazza of Torcello, to
this day called Attila’s chair, was probably the official seat of the
tribune when he administered justice to the people.
It will be seen that no definite date can be assigned to the foundation
of Venice, though Sanudo is very sure it was in “the year ccccxxi., on
the xxv. of March, which was a Friday, that day on which our father Adam
was created, when about the hour of nones the first stone of St Giacomo
di Rivoalto was laid by the Paduans.” The great diarist gives a charming
picture of the earliest Venetians trading in fish and salt with their
little barks to the neighbouring shores: “They were a lowly people, who
esteemed mercy and innocency, and, above all, religion rather than
riches. They affected not to clothe them with ornaments, nor to seek
honours, but when need was they answered to the call.”
There is little doubt that originally the settlers were subject to the
Consuls at Padua, but in 466 they were strong enough to meet at Grado
and to elect their own tribunes, one for each of the twelve communities.
A passage in a famous letter of Cassiodorus to these _Tribuni Maritimi_
in 523 affords the first glimpse in history of the lagoon folk. The
secretary of Theodoric the Great writes urging them not to fail to
transport the tribute of oil, honey and wine from Istria to Ravenna, and
expatiates on their great security and the wonderful habitations that he
has seen, like sea-birds’ nests, half on land, half on sea, or like the
cyclades spread over the broad bosom of the waters. Their land is made
not by nature but by man, for the soil is strengthened by flexible
withy bands, and they oppose frail dykes to the waves of the sea. Their
boats are tied to posts before their doors like horses are on the
mainland. Rich and poor live in equality. They flee from the vice of
envy, to which the whole world is enslaved. Instead of plough and scythe
they handle cylinders. In their salt they produce a merchandise more
desired than gold, so all the fruits of the earth are at their command.
[Illustration: THE CUSTOMS HOUSE.]
About 530, when Narses the Eunuch began the great campaign which wrested
the Italian dominions of the Emperors from the Goths, the Venetians gave
him effective aid by transporting an army of Lombard mercenaries from
Aquileia to Ravenna. As a reward Narses sent some Byzantine masters, who
from the spoils of the enemy built the Church of St Theodore at Rivoalto
on a plot of ground known as the _Broglio_ or garden where now stands
the Basilica of St Mark.
Scarcely, however, were the Goths defeated, when in 568 Alboin and his
Lombards menaced the land. Longinus, who succeeded Narses in the
exarchate of Ravenna, came to Venice and asked her aid as subject to the
Emperor. He was given an honourable and festive welcome, but the
Venetians had bought their freedom at a great price and stoutly refused
to admit his claim. They declared that the second Venice which they had
made in the waters was a mighty habitation and their very own by right
of creation; that they feared no power of Prince or Emperor, for it
could not reach them. They, however, furnished a ship and sent an
embassy with Longinus to Constantinople, and in return for valuable
trading rights, agreed to acknowledge the suzerainty of the Emperor if
no formal oath were exacted.
In 584 the lagoon folk had so expanded that an additional tribune was
chosen for each community. Of these _Tribuni majores_ was formed a
federal council, the original tribunes now serving as heads of local
administrations.
[Illustration: _a._ EARLY DUCAL CAP FROM AN OLD MOSAIC IN ST MARK
_b._ DUCAL CAP OF DOGE MORO, 1462-1471, FROM THE PORTRAIT IN S. GIOBBE]
The golden age so lovingly dwelt upon by the early chroniclers was of
short duration. Already, before the institution of the new tribunes,
family and local feuds, the ambition of the tribunes and jealousy of the
people, led to bloody affrays in the _Pinete_ (pine forests) with which
the _lidi_ were clothed. Anarchy threatened the state; bands of Lombards
under the Duke of Friuli plundered the churches of Heraclea and Grado.
The crisis was met by the public spirit and wisdom of the Church. A
general meeting (_Arengo_) was called by the Patriarch of Grado at
Heraclea. Two vital problems came to the front--the organisation of
self-defence and the maintenance of public order. The whole Assembly
having invoked the name of Christ, the great churchman stood forth, and
after reviewing the political situation, proposed that all the tribunes
should be relegated to purely local offices, and a _Capo_ or chief
elected for life. His new polity was approved and in 697 Pauluccio
Anafesto was chosen first Doge and invested with sovereign powers. Thus
was constituted the Dogeship of Venice which, save for a short
interruption of six years, endured for eleven centuries. The Doge could
nominate, degrade or dismiss all public officers, convoke or dissolve
the _Arengo_ and the synod. The appointment of Patriarchs and Bishops
was subject to his veto. The military authority, entrusted to a Master
of the soldiers, was subordinate to him; foreign affairs were in his
hands, though the approval of the people was required to declare war or
conclude peace. He could impose taxes; his feudal dues and rights of
_corvée_ were extensive. His state was regal. When he went abroad, girt
with a sword and surrounded by his guards, a state umbrella was held
over him, lighted tapers were borne by his side, trumpets blared and
banners waved. He sat enthroned in an ivory chair, holding a sceptre,
and arrayed in a silk mantle with a fringe of gold fastened by a gold
clasp over a tightly fitting tunic trimmed with ermine; he wore red hose
and a high biretta richly jewelled, which was subsequently shortened by
constricting the middle so as to form two lobes, one of which soon
disappeared, and the familiar horned cap of the later Doges was evolved.
A close cap of fine linen was worn beneath, so that when the biretta was
raised his head should be covered as a mark of dignity. The Doge was no
_fainéant_. He rose before the dawn, and having heard mass went forth to
judge the people and transact the business of the day. On solemn
occasions he gave his benediction. The blessing of God was invoked upon
him in the litany. The election, more or less democratic until the
abolition of the _Arengo_ in 1423, was made by the whole people, who
were summoned from Grado to Cavarzere. Their chosen one was acclaimed
and carried shoulder high to the church, which he entered barefoot, and
there swore to govern according to the laws and to work for the good of
the people. The result of the election was communicated to the Pope and
the Emperor; to the latter usually by the Doge’s son in person.
Anafesto had a difficult task. The young state lay between two mighty
powers: Lombards or Franks and Pope in the west, the Byzantine Emperor
in the east. Only by vigilance and prudence could she escape subjection.
And these rival interests were active within her borders--aristocratic
Heraclea leaning towards the Eastern Empire; democratic Malamocco and
Jesolo towards the Western kingdoms and the Pope. One of the first acts
of the new Doge, after securing internal peace, was to conclude a treaty
with Luitprand, King of the Lombards, by which the boundaries of the
Republic were defined, and in return for an annual payment, valuable
rights of wood-cutting and horse-breeding and trading were conceded. But
political jealousy dies hard. Two powerful families revolted in 717, and
the Doge perished in a civil broil in the Pineta of Jesolo.
During the reign of the third Doge, Orso of Heraclea, the Venetians were
called to meet a new danger. The rise of the Iconoclasts in the early
eighth century, and the zeal of their protagonist, the Emperor Leo III.,
had set east and west aflame. Leo’s attempt to enforce the decree
against the use of images in the western Church was met by an invitation
to the Lombards from the Pope to attack the seat of the eastern power in
Italy. War was the very breath of their nostrils, and they were not slow
to respond. Ravenna was besieged and captured and the Pentapolis
occupied.[2] The Exarch Paul fled to the lagoons and appealed to Orso
for help. The fugitive enlarged on the danger to Venice of the advancing
Lombards, now at their very door. The Doge agreed to furnish a fleet,
and by successful strategy Ravenna was surprised and recaptured and the
Exarchate restored. The gratified Emperor rewarded the Venetians by
conferring the title of Hypatos (knight) on their Doge, who adopted it
as a family name.
This imperial policy was, however, bitterly resented by the popular
party. A civil war ensued which lasted two years, and ended in the
defeat of the Heracleans, the murder of the Doge, and the banishment of
his son. Another experiment in statecraft was now made. The Dogeship was
abolished, and the Master of the soldiers appointed head of the State
for a term of one year. This new departure proved disastrous. After six
years of civil discord, the last of the Masters, a Heraclean, was
captured and blinded by the opposite party. An _Arengo_ was called, this
time at Malamocco, and a compromise effected. Deodato, son of Orso, a
Heraclean, was made Doge at Malamocco, whither the capital was now
transferred. But Heraclea and Jesolo were rivals, fierce as ever, for
the ducal chair. The internecine strife went on with its savage
incidents. Assassination, blinding,[3] or banishment were the price of
defeat. At length, by the election of Maurizio Galbaio in 764, “noble by
race, nobler in deeds,” the distracted state was ruled with wisdom and
firmness, and faction for a time was silenced.
[Illustration: BASIN OF S. MARCO.]
The epoch-making victory of Charles of the Hammer over the Arabs at
Tours had drawn the eyes of all men to France, and to a mighty race of
princes destined to change the face of Europe. The restless Lombards in
752 had reoccupied Ravenna and the Pentapolis, and the Pope turned to
the new Carlovingian dynasty for help against them. Pepin answered to
the call, wrested the cities from their hands, and gave them to the
Pope, who thus became a temporal sovereign. Twenty years later the
papacy was again constrained to summon help. Charlemagne, Pepin’s son,
crossed the Alps by the Great St Bernard pass, fell like a thunderbolt
of war on the Lombards, and in 774 their dominion was finally crushed by
the capture of Desiderio, their King, and Pavia, their royal city.
Romanin argues from the silence of the chroniclers that the Venetians
took no active part in the siege of Pavia, but from an old inscription
in Venetian, on a thin plate of hammered lead,[4] preserved in the
British Museum, we learn that on the invitation of Charlemagne, the
Venetians sent a fleet of twenty-four galleys, with four nobles who knew
the art of war (_saveva far la guara_) up the Po to the siege, and had
the honour of guarding the captive King. Venice had indeed watched every
phase of the struggle, seizing, as was her wont, any opportunity that
offered for extending the trading privileges so vital to her existence.
By secret information to the Church from her merchants at
Constantinople, she had nipped a plot to recover the Exarchate, now for
ever lost to the Greek Emperors. But in 781 Pepin, son of Charlemagne,
had been crowned King of Italy by the Pope; the power of the Franks was
growing apace, and their alliance with a territorial Pope alarmed the
Heraclean party. They believed a wiser policy was to form an alliance
with the weaker Empire far in the east against the Franks. In 778 Doge
Maurizio Galbaio was permitted, on the plea of infirmity, to associate
his son Giovanni with him, and on the death of Maurizio, the son stepped
into his father’s office, thus effecting a subtle change in the nature
of the Dogeship, by no means pleasing to the democratic party. The
Franks were not long in making their power felt. Venetian merchants had
acquired some territory near Ravenna, and many trading centres in the
neighbouring cities. They were incorrigible slave traders. Pope
Zacharias, a generation before, had been moved to compassion on seeing
in Rome groups of Christian slaves,[5] men and women, belonging to
Venetian merchants, destined to be sold to the pagans in Africa. He paid
their price and set them at liberty. Charlemagne had recently published
an edict against the traffic in slaves, and now called on Pope Hadrian
to take action. The Venetians were expelled from Ravenna and the
Pentapolis. In 797 the new see of Olivolo which had been created a few
years before to meet the growing needs of the population, became vacant,
and the new Doge preferred Christophorus Damiatus, a young Greek to the
bishopric. The Patriarch of Grado, around whom the Frankish party
centred, refused to consecrate one whom he regarded as a nominee of the
Byzantine Emperor, and excommunicated Bishop and Doge. The Doge’s answer
was swift and terrible. He despatched his son Maurizio with a fleet to
Grado; the city was attacked; the Patriarch captured, thrown from the
tower of his palace, and dashed to pieces. To allay popular indignation,
Fortunatus, a nephew of the murdered Patriarch was appointed in his
stead. The new prelate soon showed of what stuff he was made. With
infinite resource and indomitable purpose he set himself to avenge the
insult to the Church, and, but for the premature discovery of the plot,
would have wrought the destruction of the Doge and his party. Fortunatus
fled to the court of Charlemagne, who was now created Holy Roman
Emperor, and harbouring no tender feelings towards the rebellious
children of the lagoons. Obelerio, tribune of Malamocco, and the other
heads of the conspiracy found safety at Treviso, whence they stirred
their partizans to action with decisive effect. The Doge and his son
were exiled to Mantua; Obelerio was proclaimed Doge in 804; the triumph
of the Frankish party was complete. The Heracleans, however, soon
rallied. In their civil fury they fell upon Jesolo, and almost wiped it
out. The Doge immediately led a punitive expedition to Heraclea, and
wreaked a similar vengeance on that hot-bed of Byzantine faction. The
situation was now felt to be unbearable. By general consent a meeting of
the whole _dogado_ was called, and it was decided that in order to make
peace, the remaining populations of Heraclea and of Jesolo should be
transported to Malamocco.
Fortunatus meanwhile was watching events at Istria. Under the sun of
Charlemagne’s favours he had waxed rich and powerful. He possessed four
ships, and traded under royal patronage wherever the new western
Emperor’s power reached. By skilful diplomacy he effected his recall to
Grado, and placed a Frankish partizan in the see of Olivolo. But the
Heracleans had lost their home, not their ideals and policy. They
appealed to the Byzantine Emperor, and a Greek fleet sailed up the
Adriatic. Fortunatus once again was a fugitive. The Doge and his party
protested a loyalty to their suzerain, which in 809 was translated into
acts by the despatch of a fleet to aid him to recover the exarchate for
the Greeks. It was unsuccessful, but none the less irritating to the
Pope and Emperor, who now determined to subdue the Venetians and
incorporate them into the Holy Roman Empire of the West. The immediate
cause of the rupture is not known, but when the princes of the earth are
bent on war a pretext is seldom hard to find. A great empire, aiming at
universal dominion, is ill at ease with a sturdy freedom-loving state on
its borders, and the far-reaching arm of the invincible Carlovingians
was stretched forth to grasp, as they thought, an easy prey.
In the stress of a common danger, faction was silenced. Obelerio and his
brother Beato, whom he had associated with him a year after he was
proclaimed Doge, advised that the Venetians should agree with their
adversary before it was too late, but a wave of popular indignation
swept them from power, and Angelo Participazio, a Heraclean by birth,
and one of the tribunes of Rivoalto, was made head of a provisional
government of national defence. The churches were filled with earnest,
determined men, entreating with fasting and prayer the divine aid in
their hour of need; a call was made on every citizen at home and abroad
to hasten to the defence of the fatherland. Provisions were accumulated,
ships built, fortifications raised, channels blocked by chains and
sunken hulks, guide posts drawn.
[Illustration: CLOISTERS OF S. GREGORIO]
Meanwhile, King Pepin had summoned his allies, and a fleet sailed up to
the lagoons. On the mainland the advance of the Frankish armies was
irresistible; north and south they closed in on the Venetians. Grado
soon fell; Brondolo, the Chioggie, and other cities were captured; fire
and sword wasted their settlements. The _porti_ of Brondolo,
Chioggia, and Pelestrina were forced, Malamocco[6] the capital
threatened. At this crisis the momentous decision was taken to abandon
Malamocco and concentrate at Rivoalto (Rialto), the compact group of
islands between the mainland and the _lidi_.
[Illustration: FISHING BOATS]
On the _lido_ of Pelestrina, south of S. Pietro in Volta, where the
steamer to Chioggia now calls, is the little fishing village of Porto
Secco. Here in olden times was a _porto_ called Albiola. North of this
passage was the city of Albiola on the _lido_ which stretched towards
Malamocco. South began the _lido_ of Pelestrina. It was here that,
according to tradition, a stand was made. The Frankish host of horse and
foot gathered on the _lido_ of Albiola, waiting for their fleet to force
the _porto_, which was deep enough to allow of the passage of the
transports. Opposite, on the _lido_ of Pelestrina, stood the Venetians
near their boats, which were armoured with ramparts of sails, cordages,
and masts, behind which their archers did much execution. For nigh six
months the desperate fight was waged. “Ye are my subjects,” cried Pepin,
“since from my lands ye come.” The Venetians answered, “We will be
subject to the Emperor[7] of the Romans, not to thee.” Malamocco was at
length captured, but was found to be deserted. Rough rafts and pontoons
were constructed to thread the maze of shallow channels that led to
Rivoalto, but the light, waspish boats of the Venetians drove them on to
the shoals by the canal Orfano, where they were caught front and rear,
and those who escaped suffocation in the water and the mud were quickly
cut down by their enemies. The summer heats came; the arrows of the sun,
more deadly than Venetian arms, wrought havoc among the Franks, whose
forces wasted away, and the Carlovingians were baffled. A Greek fleet
threatening his rear, forced Pepin to come to terms. He promised to
withdraw, to restore the captured territory, and to reaffirm all the
ancient trading rights and privileges in his dominions in return for an
annual payment. The Venetians emerged from the struggle a victorious and
a united people centred at Rialto, and the State of Venice was now
firmly rooted in the lagoons.
CHAPTER II
_St Mark the Patron of Venice--The Brides of St Mark--Conquest of
Dalmatia--Limitation of the Doge’s Power_
“But I must tellen verilie
Of St Marke’s ...
... holy shrine
Exalt amid the tapers’ shine
At Venice.”
--_Keats._
An immediate outburst of creative energy was the result of the victory.
Angelo Participazio was chosen Doge and according to precedent
associated his son with him. He set himself to enlarge, fortify and
embellish Rialto. The ravaged settlements of the Chioggie, Brondolo,
Pelestrina and Albiola were rebuilt, and a new Heraclea, called _Città
nuova_, rose on the ruins of the old capital. Dykes were built, rivers
diverted and canals bridged. A ducal palace was erected near the Church
of St Theodore, and a church to S. Pietro at Olivolo. The Chapel and
Convent of S. Zaccaria were founded and endowed by the Doge to contain
the body of S. Zaccaria, father of the Baptist, and other relics given
to the Venetians by Leo the Eastern Emperor.
[Illustration: CLOISTER OF S. FRANCESCO DELLA VIGNA]
There was an old tradition among the early settlers at Rialto that St
Mark on his way from Alexandria to preach the Faith in Aquileia was
caught in a violent storm and forced to land on one of the Rialtine
islands where now stands the Church of S. Francesco della Vigna. As he
stepped forth from his bark an angel saluted him saying: “_Pace a te
Marco Evangelista mio_” (Peace to thee Mark my Evangelist), and
announced that one day his body should find a resting-place and
veneration at Rialto. Traditions like prophecies have a way of bringing
their own fulfilment, and in the brief reign of Angelo’s son Giustiniani
(827-829) some Venetians trading with the infidels in defiance of
imperial prohibition succeeded in stealing the Evangelist’s body and
carrying it to Venice. The story of “how the precious body of Monsignor
S. Marco came to Venice” is thus told by Da Canale. “Now at this time
there was a ship of the Venetians at Alexandria on which were three
valiant men. The one called Messer Rustico of Torcello, the other Messer
Buono of Malamocco, the third Messer Stauracio; which three valiant men
had great hope and devotion to bring the body of S. Marco to Venice, and
they so got round (_s’en alerent tant autour_) the guardian of the body
that having won his friendship they said to him, Messer, if thou wilt
come with us to Venice and bear away the body of Monsignor S. Marco thou
shalt become a rich man. And when he, who was called Theodore, heard
this he answered: Sirs, hold your peace, say not so, that may not be in
any wise, for the pagans hold it more precious than aught else in the
world, and if they espied us would surely cut off our heads. Then said
they, wait until the blessed Evangelist command thee. And it came to
pass that there entered into the heart of this worthy guardian a desire
to bear away the body, and he came back to them saying: Sirs, how can we
take away Monsignor S. Marco without the knowledge of any man? And one
answered: Right wisely will we do it. And they went hastily by night to
the sepulchre where the body was and put it in a basket and covered it
with cabbages and swine’s flesh, and they took another body, laid it in
the tomb in the very same cloth from which the body of Monsignor S.
Marco had been taken and sealed the tomb as it was before. And the
valiant men bore the body to the ship in that same basket as I have told
of, and for dread of the pagans slung it to a mast of their ship. What
shall I tell you? At that very moment when they opened the tomb so sweet
and so great an odour spread through the midst of the city that all the
spiceries in Alexandria could not have caused the like. Wherefore the
pagans said: Mark is stirring, for they were wont to smell such
fragrance every year. Nevertheless there were of them who misdoubted and
went to the tomb and opened it and seeing the body I have told of in St
Mark’s shroud were satisfied. And some there were who came to the ship
and searched it about, but when they saw the swine’s flesh by the mast
did straightly flee from the ship crying, Kanzir! Kanzir! which is to
say, Pork! Pork! Now the wind was fair and strong, and they set sail for
Venice and on the third day came by Romania (Greece). And a mighty wind
arose by night when the mariners were sleeping, and the ship was driving
on to the rocks; but the precious Evangelist awakened the master mariner
and said to him: Look that thou set down the sails, for we are making
for the land. And the master awakened the shipmen and they struck the
sails. And if anyone will know the truth let him come to Venice and see
the fair Church of Monsignor S. Marco, and look in front of this fair
church, for there is inscribed all this story even as I have related it,
and likewise he will gain the great pardon of vii. years which Monsignor
the Apostle (the Pope) granted to all who should go to that fair
church.”
The Doge and clergy welcomed the body with great ceremony, the traders
were forgiven their unlawful voyage, and St Mark became the patron of
the Republic instead of St Theodore. A modest little chapel was begun on
land acquired from the nuns of S. Zaccaria in the Broglio, which was
still a grass-grown field planted with trees bounded by the Canal
Battario, which flowed across what is now the Piazza of St Mark. In the
next reign the body, which had been temporarily placed in the ducal
palace, was solemnly transferred to its shrine in the new chapel of St
Mark and Stauracio appointed Primicerio or President of the Chapter.
In 829 Giov. Participazio, the third of the dynasty, began his uneasy
tenure of eight years. Obelerio plotted to regain his lost power in
Venice, but was foiled and executed, and his head exposed on a stake. A
more successful rival was the Tribune Caroso, who worked on popular
suspicion of the hereditary tendencies in the reigning family, and drove
Giovanni to exile in France. Caroso’s tyranny, however, was a bad
exchange for the milder rule of the exiled Doge. The usurper was
overthrown and blinded, and Giovanni recalled. But the same jealousy on
the part of the people which made Caroso’s _coup d’état_ possible again
manifested itself. The Doge was seized as he was returning on St Peter’s
Day from the church at Olivolo; his hair and beard were shaven, and he
was forced to retire into a monastery at Grado.
Pietro Tradonico, the chosen of the democracy in 836, was much occupied
with the pirates who, from their rocky fastnesses in the creeks and
bays of the Dalmatian coast, swooped down on the rich Venetian argosies
as they sailed the Adriatic. By a first expedition he reduced their
chiefs for a while to submission; a second was less happy in its
results.
The tide of Saracen invasion was met at Caorle and rolled back, and two
great ships of war were constructed to guard the _porti_. Amid the
stress of war the arts of diplomacy were not neglected. A treaty still
exists, dated 840, between Lothair, “by Divine Providence Imperator
Augustus and the most glorious Duke of the Venetians,” for a period of
five years: their relations in peace and war are defined; mutual
restitution of runaway slaves is promised, and traffic in the subjects
of the contracting powers prohibited; the inviolability of ambassadors
and of correspondence assured. Pietro had the honour of welcoming the
first royal tourists (855) in the person of King Louis II. of Italy and
his consort, who spent three days at Venice. The defeated Participazi
were, however, biding their time. In 864 the people’s Doge was
assassinated when leaving the Church of S. Zaccaria after Vespers and
his body lay on the ground until nightfall, when the pious nuns gave it
sepulture in the atrium of their church. The chroniclers record the
great wisdom and piety of Orso Participazio, who succeeded the murdered
Doge. He cleared the seas of pirates, and sought, by calling a synod of
clergy and laity, to purge Venice from the iniquitous traffic in slaves,
which continued to stain her commerce. Rialto was made healthier by
drainage and building; Dorsodura peopled. The growth of the arts of
peace may be measured by the fact that the Venetians were able at this
time to make a present of twelve bells to the Greek Emperor. Orso died
full of years and honours in 881, and was buried in S. Zaccaria. During
the short reign of his son Giovanni a descent was made on Comacchio, a
city on the mainland north of Ravenna, whose growing power and commerce
roused the jealousy of Venice. The Venetians had long memories, and the
help given to Pepin was now avenged by the devastation of the city and
the country even up to the walls of Ravenna. In 887 Pietro Candiano, a
devout Christian, and a wise and brave prince, was elected, and after a
reign of five months met a soldier’s death fighting against the pirates.
Pietro Tribuno, who succeeded him, was called upon to face a new danger.
In the spring of 900 the Hungarians came down the usual track of the
barbarian invaders by the Fruilian passes--“that most baneful gate left
open by nature for the chastisement of the sins of Italy”--and ravaged
the land. They were held too cheaply by Berengarius, King of Italy, and
flushed with victory, spread terror even to the lagoons. The
preparations made to resist Pepin were renewed. Rialto was fortified and
a castle built on the island of Olivolo, which is called Castello to
this day. By the way of the Franks the terrible barbarians overran the
outer cities of the _dogado_, and made for the _Porto_ of Albiola. The
Venetian fleet met them, happy omen, at the very spot where Pepin’s
might was crushed. A fierce fight ensued, and the battle was again to
the islanders. The Hungarians were scattered, and fled, never to return;
Pietro was hailed by Berengarius preserver of the public liberty, and
was honoured by the Eastern Emperor. Two years later the foundations of
the old Campanile were laid in a spot where a great elder tree
flourished. At the death of the Doge in 912 the Participazii returned to
power.
Orso Participazio II. (912) was a saintly and righteous prince who
retired to a monastery after a peaceful reign of twenty years, during
which the Venetians obtained from the Emperor Rudolph a confirmation of
the right to coin their own money. How great was the expansion of their
trade is illustrated in the reign of the next Doge, Pietro Candiano II.
(932), who, by the simple expedient of a commercial boycott, brought the
arbitrary feudal lord of Istria to his knees. In 942, after a short and
uneventful term of power by the rival dynasty, Candiano’s son Pietro
became Doge.
[Illustration: S. MARCO, FROM PIAZZETTA DEI LEONI.]
[Illustration: S. PIETRO IN CASTELLO, FROM S. ELENA]
A romantic incident in the ever-recurring battles with the Narentine
(Slav) pirates may be referred to this reign. On the feast of the
translation of St Mark it was the custom for the marriageable damsels of
Venice to repair to S. Pietro in Castello, bearing their dowries with
them in caskets, to be formally betrothed to their lovers and receive
the benediction of the Church. Informed of this anniversary, some
pirates concealed themselves in the thick bush which then covered part
of the island, and during the ceremony forced their way into the church,
seized brides and dowries, and regained their boats. The Doge, who was
present, hastened from the church, and called the people to arms. Some
vessels belonging to the Cabinet-makers’ Guild, whose quarter was near
the Church of S. Maria Formosa, were offered to the Doge. The avengers
set forth in pursuit, and came upon the pirates dividing their booty in
a remote part of the lagoon of Caorle, afterwards called _porto delle
Donzelle_, defeated them, and returned in triumph to Rialto with brides
and dowries, the Cabinet-makers having greatly distinguished themselves.
To commemorate the rape and rescue of the brides of St Mark, the Doges
were used on the day of the Purification to proceed in solemn state to
the Church of S. Maria Formosa to render thanks to the Virgin. Twelve
poor girls, the _Marie_, were dowered and took part in the procession,
together with the chief guilds of Venice. Simple in its origin, the
celebration became more and more sumptuous, till at length so great was
the burden on the private resources of the families whose lot it was to
provide for the _Marie_, that in 1271 the number was reduced to four.
Later, a tax was imposed on every family to meet the cost of the eight
days’ _festa_. In 1379 the funds were swallowed up in the financial
demands of the Genoese wars, and all that remained of the old
magnificence was the annual visit of the Doge to the church, and the
offering made to him by the parish priest of oranges, muscat wine, and
gilded straw hats. The origin of the Doge’s attendance at this church,
and of the quaint offerings, is traced to a legend that the
Cabinet-makers, in acknowledgment of their prowess, asked of the Doge
the favour of an annual visit. To the Doge’s objection, “But if it be
too hot,” they answered, “We will give you refreshment”; and to the
further objection, “But if it rain,” they answered, “We will furnish you
with hats.” The custom lasted till the end of the Republic. Da Canale
gives a graphic description of the festival as it was celebrated in the
thirteenth century. On the vigil of the feast of the translation of St
Mark, a company of noble youths came by water to the ducal palace, and
having distributed banners to some children, formed in line two by two,
accompanied by trumpeters and players of cymbals, and by other youths
bearing trays of silver loaded with sweets, silver vessels filled with
wine, and cups of gold and silver. The clergy followed, arrayed in
Calamanco cloth of gold, chanting a litany, and the whole procession
went its way to S. Maria Formosa, where a number of dames and damsels
were met, to whom wine and sweets were presented. On the last day of
January the procession was renewed with greater splendour. Over five
hundred banners were distributed, and more than a hundred lads bearing
crosses of silver took part. Following the priests came a clerk, dressed
as the Virgin, in Damascus cloth of gold, borne in a richly decorated
chair on the shoulders of four men, gonfalons resplendent with gold
waving around. The Doge, surrounded by the Venetian nobility, stood at a
window of the ducal palace, while three of the clergy chanted the usual
lauds of his greatness and power. The Doge then joined the procession,
which wended its way to S. Maria Formosa. Here stood another clerk
dressed as the angel Gabriel, who sang the “Hail Mary” as the figure of
the Virgin appeared. The ceremony being ended, twelve great banquets
were held, at each of which one of the _Marie_ was present, clad in
cloth of gold adorned with jewels and pearls innumerable, and wearing a
crown of gold set with precious stones. On the day following, a gorgeous
aquatic pageant, more than a mile and a half in length, with the Doge in
his _mastro nave_, the clergy and the _Marie_ made the tour of the Grand
Canal, and “if you were there you could see the whole waters covered
with boats filled with men and women, so that no one could count them,
and a throng of dames and damsels at the windows and on the banks,
apparelled so richly that none in Venice might surpass them.” Regattas,
balls, and music followed; the whole city gave itself up to joy and
gladness.
[Illustration: A GIRL OF CASTELLO.]
Pietro Candiano’s reign of seventeen years set in storm and calamity.
His son and colleague, Pietro, rebelled, and sought to drive his father
from the throne. There was a sharp fight on the Piazza; the rebellion
collapsed and the Venetian Absalom was only saved from death by the
entreaties of his aged father. He was excluded from the succession and
banished, but only to turn pirate and harry his countrymen. The scourge
of the plague and sorrow for his son’s impiety embittered the last days
of the old Doge, and in 959 he died a broken-hearted man. But scarce was
he laid to rest when a splendid fleet, gay with banners, bore a
deputation of nobles and clergy to Ravenna to invite the proscribed
pirate to become lord of Venice: the pressure of a powerful family and
the fear of civil discord had led to the recall of the only prince who
seemed strong enough to rule the troubled state. He began by blinding
and exiling the Bishop of Torcello, guilty of simony, and by calling a
synod to deal again with the persistent abomination of the slave trade
at Venice. There was no concealment. Slaves, chiefly young girls from
twelve to sixteen years of age, bought in the ports of Russia and
Circassia, were openly sold by auction at Venice and the deed of sale
drawn up by a notary. Doge, clergy and people met in St Mark’s and the
disgraceful traffic was again prohibited under severe penalties. Another
scandal of Venetian commerce was challenged by the Greek Emperor, who in
971 sent an embassy to Venice threatening to burn cargo and crew of any
vessel found trading in munitions of war with the Saracens. It was
decided that no arms, or iron, or wood for naval construction should be
sold to the infidels, exception being made of utensils of carved wood,
such as goblets, platters, basins.
But the demons of Pride and Ambition still lurked in the unquiet breast
of the Doge. He forced his wife to take the veil at S. Zaccaria that he
might marry Gualdrada, sister of the Marquis of Tuscany, who brought him
a rich dowry of money and lands. He affected a state of Imperial
magnificence, surrounded himself with mercenaries and dragged his
subjects to fight for his feudal rights on the mainland. The indignant
populace rose in revolt and attacked the palace. Foiled in their purpose
by the devotion of the Doge’s foreign guards, the insurgents fired the
adjacent houses and drove the doomed prince to seek safety by a passage
that led into the atrium of St Mark’s. Here he was met by a company of
Venetian nobles to whom he prayed: “And have you, too, my brothers,
willed my destruction. If I have sinned in word or deed, grant me life
and I will remedy all.” There was an angry shout of, “He is worthy of
death,” and a dozen weapons were plunged into his breast. His infant son
was spitted on a spear in its nurse’s arms; the hated mercenaries were
slain. The bodies of father and babe were cast to the shambles, and only
redeemed by the entreaties of a saintly monk who removed them for
burial to the abbey of S. Ilario.
[Illustration: S. MARCO FAÇADE.]
In a city built mainly of wood, fire is a disastrous weapon. Their
vengeance glutted, the revolutionists turned to count the cost, and were
sobered. The churches of St Theodore, St Mark and S. Maria Zobenigo, the
ducal palace, three hundred houses and a large number of factories were
destroyed. It was a subdued assembly that met in S. Pietro on August
12th, 976, and elected Pietro Orseolo, a rich patrician descended from
an ancient Roman family of the earliest settlers in Torcello. Threats of
Imperial vengeance hung over the Republic, and Gualdrada’s claims for
compensation had to be met. For this, and to rebuild the city, a subsidy
of a _decima_ was voted to be imposed on the property of each citizen.
Artificers were brought from Constantinople and plans for a new St
Mark’s[8] and a new palace made. The Doge dedicated nearly all his
patrimony to the building; founded a hospital for the sick poor near the
Campanile, and spent much time as well as money in works of charity. He
soon grew weary of the cares of state, and an opportune visit of the
Abbot of St Michael’s in Aquitaine to Venice confirmed his desire to
enter a cloister. He asked for time to prepare. The abbot promised to
return and claim him. A year later, on a September night, the abbot and
two friars repaired to the monastery of S. Ilario, where they were met
by the Doge, his son-in-law and a friend, disguised as pilgrims. Horses
were in waiting; they were ferried across the lagoon, and at full speed
the party rode for France. On the morrow the Venetians awoke to find
their beloved prince fled and the ducal chair vacant. The Candiani who
had never ceased intriguing to regain power were ready, and their
nominee, Vitale Candiano, was raised to the Dogeship, to retire after
fourteen months, sick and disillusioned, to die in a monastery. Pietro
Memo succeeded him in 978, a feeble prince, whose reign was dishonoured
by the rise of the Caloprini and Morosini factions that in the end
nearly compassed the destruction of Venetian liberties. It was the old
strife renewed with increased bitterness. The Morosini being partisans
of the Orseoli favoured the Byzantines: the Caloprini standing for the
Candiani leaned on the western powers. For the first and last time in
her history Venice saw her children traitorously inviting a foreign
sovereign to enslave their fatherland. The Caloprini, having
assassinated Dom. Morosini, fled to the court of Otho II., and impiously
laying bare the weak places in their country’s defences, called him to
conquest. The Emperor was nothing loth. Venice was a standing challenge
to the Empire; the only state in Western Europe that stubbornly refused
to be absorbed in the feudal system. His subjects were forbidden to
trade with the Republic; her food supplies were cut off; her enemies
goaded on to attack her; the Caloprini faction in Venice stirred to
rebellion; ships of war collected to blockade if not to attack the
islands. It was the gravest danger that had ever threatened Venice, for
the foes were partly those of her own household. But the stars, which
watched over her birth, seemed now in their courses to fight for her
salvation. The mighty arm of the Emperor was raised to crush the little
state, when the angel of death touched him and it fell impotently to his
side.
At this epoch arose to guide her destinies one of the greatest princes
that ever sat in the ducal chair. Memo, suspected of complicity in a
more than usually atrocious assassination, was deposed and forced to
enter a monastery, and in 991 Pietro Orseolo II. began his eventful
reign. By his consummate statesmanship the Republic soon found herself
at peace with east and west and able to deal with the problem of the
Adriatic pirates. The Doge at once abolished the feeble expedient of
paying blackmail to their chiefs, and on a renewal of their depredations
chastised them into respect. The unhappy borderland along the Dalmatian
coast, nominally under the lordship of the eastern Empire, but actually
eluding control by east or west, was dotted with a number of small
trading communities--Zara, Trau, Spalato, and Ragusa--continually
harassed by Slav and Saracen pirates from the sea and by Croats on land.
The defeated pirates in their rage now united with the Croats and turned
on the Dalmatians, who appealed to Venice, the only power which seemed
able to protect them. The Doge at once grasped the importance to
Venetian commerce of a protectorate over Dalmatia. The greatest fleet
that had hitherto sailed from Venetian waters set forth with banners
consecrated by the Church to police the Adriatic. The voyage was a
triumphant procession. Chief after chief submitted. At Zara and
elsewhere the Venetians were magnificently received: the last stronghold
of the pirates, impregnable Lagosta, yielded to the splendid courage of
the Venetian seamen. Slavs and Croats were cowed and hostages given for
future good behaviour. The woods of Curzola now made Venice independent
of Italy for timber. It was the first stage in her development as a
European power. The title of Doge of Dalmatia was added to that of Doge
of Venice and a ceremony instituted which a hundred and eighty years
later became the famous _Sposalazio del Mare_ or Wedding of the
Adriatic. On the morning of Ascension Day a State barge covered with
cloth of gold bearing the clergy of the Chapter of St Mark’s in full
canonicals and furnished with a vessel of water, a vase of salt and an
aspersoir of olive branches, sailed to the Canal of S. Nicolo del Lido
to await the Doge’s barge, called later the Bucintoro. On its arrival
two Canons intoned the litany and the Bishop rose up and solemnly
pronounced in Latin the words, Deign, O Lord, to grant that this sea be
calm and peaceful to us and to all that sail upon it; thus we pray. O
Lord hear us. The Bishop blessed the water and, having reached S.
Nicolo, drew near to the Doge’s barge before the procession advanced
into the open Adriatic. The Primicerio then prayed: Purge me, O Lord,
with hyssop, and I shall be clean; the Bishop aspersed the Doge and his
suite, and poured what was left of the water into the sea. Such was the
origin of the famous _festa_ of _La Sensa_ of which we shall hear more
later.
The fame of the Doge’s exploits had fired the imagination of the young
and ardent Emperor Otho III., who made a mysterious voyage by night to
the great Orseolo at Venice and disguised in mean attire went about the
strange city marvelling at the glories of its architecture. The new
ducal palace had just been completed, a stately embattlemented edifice,
in which was constructed a small chapel rich in precious marble and gold
and furnished with an organ of wondrous craftsmanship. A romantic
affection sprang up between the two potentates which was cemented by the
Emperor standing god-father and giving his name to one of the Doge’s
sons. The friends parted, after much intimate converse, embracing each
other and in tears.
Honours too from the East were lavished upon the Doge. Responding to an
appeal from the Greeks he led a fleet to Bari, which was invested by the
Saracens. Signs and wonders in the heavens heralded his coming, and
after three days of hand-to-hand fighting the siege was raised and a
Greek army delivered from destruction. The Byzantine Emperor showed his
gratitude by bestowing the hand of his niece on the Doge’s son Giovanni,
and joyous festival was held at Constantinople in honour of the
alliance. But whatever pride may have been engendered in the Doge’s
breast by this almost more than mortal success was soon chastened by
failing health, affliction at home, and the desolation wrought by plague
and famine in the city. Rich in piety and charity this noble and
heroic servant of the people declined to his end, and at the early age
of forty-eight was laid to rest in S. Zaccaria.
[Illustration: VINE PERGOLA ON THE GIUDECCA]
The story of the enriching of this church with the body of S. Tarasio is
too characteristic to be passed by. We tell it in Sanudo’s words. In the
year 1019 some Venetian merchants, with whom was a certain priest of
Malamocco, disembarked at a promontory called Chiledro. The priest and
two companions went into a deserted monastery and heard a voice crying
_Tolle hoc corpus sanctum et defer tecum_ (Take this holy body and bear
it away with thee). He looked around and finding no monument prayed to
God for guidance, and soon discerned an altar inscribed, “This body of
S. Tarasio shalt thou find wrapped in a cloth.” He then turned and saw a
cave in which lay the body with four lights burning before it. Now the
said priest was sorely hurt in one of his hands, which he carried in a
sling, and having entered the cave he at once became whole. As he raised
the body, which weighed nought, so light it was, a voice proceeded from
it saying, _Tolle me quia tecum venire præsto sum_ (Take me, for I am
ready to come with thee). They carried the body to the ship, three miles
distant, and lo, there came some monks running apace and crying, “Cruel
men, give us back our father. Ye shall not depart hence if ye restore
him not to us, for once on a time a strange people came and stole a
tooth of the saint and never could they depart until they had returned
the same to us.” But the Venetians caring nought for such words set sail
for Venice, and, though the ship was heavy laden, she sailed light as a
bird over the sea, so precious a treasure she bore.
Otho Orseolo, who succeeded his father in 1008, by overweening ambition,
drew on himself the ill-will of the people. God-son of an Emperor,
brother-in-law of the sainted King Stephen of Hungary, he promoted one
of his brothers to the patriarchate of Grado (next to the dogeship the
most important position in the state), and another to the See of
Torcello. The Patriarchs of Aquileia and of Grado had long been at
bitter enmity, and more than once had fought out their quarrels with all
too secular weapons. During the Lombard dominion the Patriarchs of
Aquileia were tainted with the Arian heresy, whereas those of Grado
remained orthodox and claimed jurisdiction over the whole of the
lagoons. Moreover, the growing power and wealth of the latter aroused
the jealousy of their rivals. The Aquileian Pastor was generally a
German by race and sympathies, and subject to the Empire, while the
Patriarch of Grado was subject to Venice.[9] The Pastor of Aquileia now
organised the popular discontent, and drove his rival of Grado and the
Doge to exile in Istria; but the horror wrought in Grado by this warlike
churchman, who added perjury to ferocity to accomplish his vengeance,
brought about a reaction in the Doge’s favour, and he was recalled,
only, however, to wreck himself again on the iron-bound determination of
the Venetians never to be subject to a feudal prince, and he was again
exiled. For Venice was founded by citizens of the Roman Empire, with
traditions of municipal freedom and imperial dominion to whom the feudal
system of the German conquerors of Italy was alien and hateful. His
successor, Dom. Centranico, elected in 1026, was unable to rule the
storm, and after an ineffectual reign of six years was shorn of his
beard and sent to Constantinople. Again the Venetians turned to the
twice-exiled Doge. An honourable embassy was sent to invite Otho to
return, only to find him beyond the reach of earthly honours. In the
political confusion another Orseolo usurped power for a day, and was
chased to Ravenna by the people, whose hatred of the Orseoli was now so
fierce that the whole family were ostracised and laws enacted which
finally blocked any tendency in the dominant families to form a dynasty.
Under Dom. Flabianico, who was raised to the ducal chair in 1032, an
_Arengo_ was called, and after the acts of the Doges for the past three
hundred years, their ungovernable ambitions and tragic ends had been
recapitulated, it was decided to abolish association and hereditary
succession. Two ducal councillors were appointed to assist the Doge in
the discharge of the ordinary duties of his office. In extraordinary
matters of grave public importance he was compelled to _invite_ the more
prominent and experienced citizens to his council. By these two
momentous constitutional changes that paring away of the Doge’s powers
was begun which in the end made of him little more than a figurehead,
and gave free play to the evolution of the most capable and powerful
oligarchy in history. It is easy to trace in the two _consiglieri
ducali_ the beginnings of the Ducal Council, and in the “Invited”
(_Pregadi_) the Senate, or meeting of the _Pregadi_. The object of the
reformers were effected. During the reigns (a period of thirty-eight
years) of Flabianico and of Dom. Contarini, the fury of ecclesiastical
jealousy alone disturbed the state.
That the choice of the Doge was still democratic in form is clear from
an interesting description by an eye-witness, Dom. Tina, of the election
of Doge Dom. Selvo in 1071. An immense multitude of citizens came in
boats and armed galleys to an assembly on the island of Castello; and
while the clergy and the monks from the Abbey of S. Nicolo, founded on
the _Lido_ in the previous reign, were praying in St Peter’s for divine
guidance, a mighty shout rose from the people, _Noi volemo dose Domenigo
Selvo e lo laudiamo_ (We desire and approve Dom. Selvo for Doge). Selvo
was seized by a company of nobles and borne shoulder high to his barge,
where he bared his feet that he might enter St Mark’s in due humility.
Tina, who was on Selvo’s boat, intoned the Te Deum; a thousand voices
joined him and a thousand oars dashed the waters into foam. From all the
churches bells pealed as the Doge alighted and was carried to St Mark’s,
where the clergy met him and such psalmody and acclamation were raised
that the very domes of the chapel seemed like to burst with the noise.
The Doge entered and prostrated himself to the ground, giving thanks to
God and to St Mark for the honour conferred upon him. Having taken the
insignia of office from the altar he proceeded to the palace, followed
by an immense concourse of people, who in accordance with usage looted
the palace of its furniture and received largess from the new Doge.
Selvo’s popularity was not, however, shared by his consort, a Greek
princess, who shocked the simpler tastes of the Venetians by her
oriental luxury. Not only was she said to bathe in dew and scent her
robes with costly perfumes, she was of _tanta delicatezza_ that she
would not touch her food with her fingers, but made use of certain
two-pronged instruments of gold to carry it to her mouth. The outraged
Divine Majesty, say the chroniclers, punished her by the infliction of a
loathsome disease and she sickened into such corruption that none could
be found to tend her.
CHAPTER III
_Expansion in the East_--_Reconciliation of Pope Alexander III. and
the Emperor Barbarossa_--_The Wedding of the Adriatic_
“All the golden cities
Overflowing with honey
...
Say, lords, should not our thoughts be first to commerce.”
--_Blake._
One of the most remarkable figures of mediæval history is that of Robert
Guiscard, son of a poor Norman knight, who with a handful of military
adventurers carved out for himself a great duchy in South Italy, founded
a race of kings, defeated the Emperors of East and West, and in his
colossal ambition aimed at nothing less than uniting in his person the
divided Empire of the Romans. Alexius Comnenos, the Greek Emperor, hard
pressed at Durazzo by the puissant duke’s forces, appealed to Venice for
help and promised valuable trading privileges in return. She responded
to the call, and in 1081 a great _armata_ of sixty-three sail under the
command of the Doge appeared before the besieged city and by masterly
strategy and strenuous fighting defeated the Normans. But Duke Robert
was not easily crushed. In 1084 Alexius was constrained to pay the
inevitable price of further commercial favours for another naval
contingent from Venice. Doge Selvo with a fleet of great ships and
13,000 men fell upon the Normans near Corfu. Victory inclined to the
Venetians at first, but in the end they were overwhelmed by Robert’s
fierce onslaught. The huge towering galleons of the islanders were
involved in hopeless confusion, and as the Normans pressed on to cut
down the Venetian sailors, Robert tempted them by promising to spare
the lives of those who would enter his service. “Know, Duke Robert,”
answered the devoted Venetians, “that if we saw our wives and children
slain before our eyes we would not break troth with Alexius.” Robert,
admiring their loyalty, suffered them to be held for redemption. Selvo
reached Venice in November with a remnant of his shattered fleet and a
loss of 6000 men. Before a month was past he was deposed by a popular
rising whose chief instigator, Vitale Falier, lifted himself up to the
ducal chair. Unhappy Doge Selvo’s memory is, however, enshrined in St
Mark’s, for he it was who set himself to adorn the edifice with marble
incrustations, columns of porphyry and other precious stones, mosaic and
painting.
The naval supremacy of Venice was essential to her existence, and one of
the first acts of Falier was to collect a fleet more powerful than any
that had yet left the lagoons. In the spring of 1085 the shame of defeat
was wiped out by a great victory over the Normans on the scene of the
former engagement. In a few months plague had quenched for ever the
fiery spirit of Duke Robert, and Alexius had leisure to reward the
Venetians. The Doge’s title of Duke of Dalmatia was formally recognised
and that of Augustus added. Trading franchises and exemption from
customs were granted in all the parts of the Eastern Empire. Lands and
factories were assigned to them, a Venetian quarter was founded in
Constantinople. The first grip of the young Republic was laid on the
capital of the Greeks and never relaxed until she had overthrown their
empire and fixed herself there--victorious and dominant.
[Illustration: SHRINE OF THE HOLY CROSS, S. MARCO.]
In 1094 the new Church of St Mark was ready for formal consecration; but
it was a casket void of its treasure. For since the great fire of 976
all traces of the Saint’s body had been lost and great was the
affliction of Doge and people. It was decided to institute a solemn fast
and procession, and to supplicate the Eternal Majesty to reveal the
hidden relic. On the 25th day of June, while the procession of Doge,
clergy and people was slowly pacing St Mark’s, a great light shone from
a pillar near the altar of St James, and part of the masonry falling
away, a hand was thrust out with a ring of gold on the middle finger and
a sweet fragrance was diffused throughout the church, “nor could any
draw this ring off” (says Sanudo[10]) “save Giov. Delfino, counsellor to
the Doge, whose descendants a few years ago gave it to the Scuola di S.
Marco. The body being found, the whole city was filled with joy and gave
thanks to the eternal God for having restored so great a treasure. On
the 8th of October the said church, which of old was called St Theodore,
was consecrated in the name of St Mark, and in the presence alone of the
Doge, the bishop, the primicerio and the procurator of St Mark, the body
was placed (as it is famed) in the high altar of the said church. And
Bernardo Giustiniani maketh mention in his history that he being once
procurator, it was told him in great secrecy where the said body lay,
and that in very truth it was in the said church.”
On the 6th of May 1811 the body was rediscovered in a marble tomb in the
crypt, with a few coins, a gold ring minus its jewel; a _lamina_ with
the date October 8, 1094, and the name of Vitale Falier.
A great festival was instituted to commemorate the discovery, and the
fame of the miracle drew many pilgrims to Venice, among whom was Henry
IV., Emperor of the West, who combining piety with statecraft, paid his
devotions to the Saint and courted the favour of the Republic, whose
help, or at least neutrality, he needed in his wars with the papacy to
avenge the humiliation of Canossa.[11] The Emperor was magnificently
received, and after admiring the beauty of the architecture and the
wonderful site of the city he left, having added many privileges to
those already enjoyed by the Venetian merchants in his dominions.
In 1096 Vitale Falier died, and on Christmas day was buried in the
portico of St Mark’s. The people, whom the devastation wrought by
tempest, earthquake and famine[12] had made unjust, ran to the church
and cast bread and wine at the tomb, cursing and saying: “Sate thee now,
who in life wouldest not provide plenty for thy people.”
Towards the close of the 11th century harrowing stories of the
atrocities committed by the Saracen conquerors of Palestine on Christian
pilgrims, and the impassioned oratory of Peter the Hermit had fired the
West with a desire to cleanse the Holy Land from the pollution of the
infidel. Wave after wave of unorganised enthusiasm broke against the
forces of nature and the military prowess of the Saracens, until at
length the epic story of the conquest of Jerusalem by the organised
Chivalry of Christendom rang through Europe. The Venetians, who aimed at
something more solid than the gratification of religious emotion, looked
on unmoved, until an appeal came to the maritime states of Italy to
furnish transport for the crusaders and pilgrims who were flocking to
the East. Doge Vitale Michieli, in 1096, called an assembly in St
Mark’s. He appealed to the religious zeal of the people and dwelt on the
unwisdom of permitting their rivals of Pisa and Genoa to forestall them
again and increase their power in the East. Commercial interest and
state policy left them no choice. A fleet was manned and after solemn
mass at St Mark’s the expedition set sail, bearing the consecrated
banner of the Cross, under the command of the Doge’s son Giovanni and
the Bishop of Castello. But the Greek Emperor, ever fearful of the whole
movement, incited the Pisans to attack the Venetians, and a fierce
battle between the rival armaments at Rhodes disgraced the Christian
host. The Venetians were victorious and continued their voyage. A call
was made at Myra, where lay the body of St Nicholas, patron saint of
mariners, which the Bishop had long coveted for the Abbey of St Nicolo
on the Lido. Having learnt from his spies that the city was almost
deserted, the worthy prelate proceeded to the church accompanied by some
sailors, and demanded of the custodians where the body of the saint was.
They replied that they knew not, and indicated an old tomb, saying that
some relics were there and some had been removed, and the Bishop might
have what he could find. The sailors working day and night broke open
the tomb and found nought save some oil and water. Whereupon the Bishop,
waxing very wroth, put the four custodians to the torture, who cried:
“Wherefore dost thou afflict us, verily in the altar of St John are two
bodies of saints.” The altar being opened two chests were found with
inscriptions saying they contained the bodies of St Theodore the Martyr
and St Nicholas the Less. The spoilers were about to depart when a
sailor, by “divine inspiration,” turned back to look again at the rifled
tomb, and lo, an odour of such great sweetness came forth that surely,
he said, there must lie some relic of great worth. The sailors dug
deeper and came upon a third chest with an inscription in Greek saying:
“Here rests the great Nicholas, who wrought wonders on land and sea.”
The chests were carried abroad with great devotion, and the fleet went
its way to the Holy Land. The Venetians assisted in the capture of
Caifa, and on St Michael’s Day returned laden with the saint’s body and
much spoil. Meanwhile their interests in the West had not been
neglected. For help afforded to the Countess Matilda in Ferrara the
usual reward of trading privileges in that city was given.
In 1104, in the third year of the reign of Ordelafo Falier, a Doge,
“young in years but old in wisdom,” came a summons from Baldwin, King of
Jerusalem, for a naval contingent. A fleet of more than a hundred sail
was despatched, which, after contributing to the victory of Jaffa and to
the capture of Sidon, swept the sea of pirates. The Venetians exacted
important concessions--a quarter of the conquered city; their own
church, bakery and mill; a market-place; exemption from customs, taxes
and dues; the right to use their own weights and measures; and a yearly
tribute in money from the king. They were also to be subject to their
own laws.
But at home evil days had fallen upon Venice. An awful tempest and
inundation wrought havoc in the city. Houses and factories were levelled
to the ground; the ancient capital Malamocco was engulfed in the sea.
Scarcely had the unhappy citizens recovered from their terror when two
disastrous fires consumed a great part of the city. Thirty churches were
destroyed, and the ducal palace and St Mark’s injured. Abroad, the King
of Hungary attacked their protectorate of Dalmatia, and the fleet was
recalled from the East. It had done what was expected of it. A certain
Friar Peter being at Constantinople heard that the body of St Stephen,
the proto-martyr, was in a church there, and “found means to obtain it.”
The fleet was in the harbour, and the sacred treasure put on board, not
without opposition from the Greeks, who were with difficulty restrained
from attacking the bearers. A great procession went forth to meet the
fleet as it neared Venice, and the Doge himself transferred the holy
burden on his shoulders to the ducal barge. Many churches contended for
the possession of the relic, which at length was conferred on the rich
Benedictine Abbey of S. Giorgio Maggiore, founded in the year 982.
The Bishop of Castello, who had been sent to Constantinople to plead for
help in the reconquest of Dalmatia, was no less successful. As a token
of the Emperor’s favour, he returned with the right hand of St John the
Baptist in a vase. Two armaments were sent to recover Dalmatia. In 1117,
when the Venetians were wavering before a fierce attack of the
Hungarians outside Zara, the Doge spurred forward to hearten them. His
horse stumbled on a dead body: the enemy closed on him, and he was
slain--the second Doge who had met a soldier’s death.
[Illustration: THE SQUERO, S. TROVASO]
Ordelafo Falier is remembered in Venice to-day by two monuments: one of
art--the famous _Pala d’oro_ in St Mark’s; the other of civic
utility--the scattered _squeri_ or shipyards were concentrated by him in
the great Arsenal, whence issued the mighty vessels innumerable that for
centuries maintained the naval supremacy of Venice. It was this
_Arzanà_, now the _Arsenale Vecchio_, which Dante saw and immortalised
in the famous description of the fifth of the Malebolge:--
“Quale nell’arzanà de’ Viniziani
bolle l’inverno la tenace pece
a rimpalmar li lor legni non sani,
che navicar non ponno, e in quella vece
chi fa suo legno nuovo, e chi ristoppa
le coste a quel che più viaggi fece;
chi ribatte da proda, e chi da poppa;
altri fa remi, ed altri volge sarte;
chi terzerudo ed artimon rintoppa.”[13]
The first duty of Dom. Michiel, 1118, was to make peace with the King of
Hungary, that he might be free to devote himself to Eastern affairs. The
King of Jerusalem was a prisoner in the hands of the Saracens and a
stirring appeal from the Pope for Venetian help was read in St Mark’s. A
year was spent in building and equipping a fleet of forty great galleys,
twenty-eight transports, and many smaller craft. It was a magnificent
spectacle when the vessels, painted with many colours and bright with
banners, set forth bearing a gallant army of knights and footmen, their
armour flashing in the sun, the banner of St Mark and the consecrated
standard of the Cross waving proudly from the Doge’s ship. But the
captive king was to linger yet another year, for the Doge had pressing
affairs nearer home. The Greek Emperor Johannes must be chastised for
his unfriendly attitude. The fleet anchored before Corfu and spent the
winter in an attempt to capture the island. Having wreaked what damage
they could and having “invoked the divine assistance,” they resumed
their voyage in the spring. After devastating Chios, Lesbos and Rhodes
they reached Cyprus, where news came that a Saracen armament was off
Jaffa. The fleet at once pressed forward and fell upon the infidels. The
Doge’s galley went straight for the Emir’s ship and sank it. Confusion
seized the enemy and a memorable victory was won. The slaughter was
terrible. For years the mariners of Jaffa declared the sea to be
infected with the corpses of the Saracens. The Doge was met at Jaffa by
the clergy and barons of Jerusalem and borne in triumph to the holy
city, where he was acclaimed as the champion of Christendom. Being urged
to further service the Doge replied that nothing was nearer the hearts
of the Venetians than to increase the Christian dominion in the East,
and that the piety and religion which had always distinguished them was
burning to express itself in deeds. In the name of the King and his
barons it was agreed that of the captured cities and all spoils
one-third should be the portion of the Venetians, one-third of the King,
one-third of the Patriarch of Jerusalem, and that the cost of the war
should be met in thirds. The trading privileges granted in Sidon were
confirmed and were to be extended to all future conquests. A hot
discussion arose as to whether Tyre or Ascalon should be the objective
of the next expedition. It was decided to cast lots, and a boy drew from
the urn the word “Tyre.”
The capture by the Venetians and Franks of Tyre, mother of Carthage,
“the mart of nations made very glorious in the heart of the seas,” is
one of the epics of history. The besiegers attacked with desperate
courage. The flower of Saracen chivalry garrisoned the city. The
warriors of Damascus and fleets from Egypt fought in vain to raise the
siege. In the alternations of the struggle murmurs were heard among the
Franks of impending desertion by the Venetian fleet. The Doge, when the
report came to his ears, had a plank knocked out of the side of each
ship and borne before him to the Frankish camp. With grave words he
rebuked the slanderers and offered to leave those material pledges of
Venetian loyalty. Towards the end of the siege money failed: the Doge
cut coins of leather, promising to exchange them for good ducats when
the fleet returned to Venice. After five months’ resistance, famine wore
down the courage of the Saracens. Honourable terms of surrender were
granted and the banners of the King of Jerusalem and the standard of St
Mark floated over the captured city. Venice had planted her foot in
Syria. The fleet turned westward, but its work was not yet done.
Johannes had expelled the Venetian traders from the ports of the Empire,
and the Greeks were to be taught another lesson. The course of the
avengers through the eastern seas was marked by the ravaged cities of
the Greek islands spoiled of their wealth and bewailing their captive
sons and daughters. The Doge paused in his work to recover the Dalmatian
fiefs from the King of Hungary, and cities reduced to heaps of
smouldering ruins bore witness to the power of Venice to vindicate her
sovereignty. Reinforced from Dalmatia the victorious fleet turned again
on the Greeks, who hastened to make peace and agreed to the Doge’s
terms. Great was the rejoicing in Venice when the triumphant Doge
returned bringing the bodies of St Isidore from Chios and of S. Donato
from Cephalonia, and such spoil of Eastern magnificence as had never yet
been seen there since she rose from the sea. But before we follow him
to his retreat and death in the Monastery of S. Giorgio Maggiore, where
to this day may be seen a partially obliterated epitaph to the “Terror
of the Greeks and the Glory of Venice,” we may record one domestic
innovation worthy of grateful remembrance. Few things are more charming
to the wayfarer in Venice than the little shrines of the Virgin and
Child decked with flowers and lighted by night with an oil lamp in the
nooks and corners of the city. Though no longer needed for their
original purpose of illuminating the ways, they are still tended by the
piety of the people. It was to Michieli that this provision was due. To
aid the watchmen in ridding the dark and tortuous lanes of the thieves
that infested them, and to light the city, the clergy were ordered to
provide for the public safety by erecting and maintaining the shrines,
and were empowered to levy a rate to meet the cost.
From the retirement of Dom. Michieli to the election of Vitale Michieli
II. in 1156, two Doges, Pietro Polani and Dom. Morosini, presided over
the growth of the lagoon state. In spite of troubles with the Adriatic
pirates, the Hungarians in Dalmatia and the Paduans, new markets for
Venetian commerce were won by the familiar process of squeezing the
rival Cæsars of East and West. It was a time of building. The Campanile
was finished, many churches were erected, and a hospital was founded for
the mothers and widows of seamen fallen in the service of the state.
Political theories that no longer correspond to realities are dangerous
in proportion to the character and genius of those whose imagination
they seize upon. Actually the Roman Empire had fallen to pieces, but so
faithfully had the Romans wrought that it was regarded even by the
northern invaders as an integral part of civilisation. The Church
accepted and sanctified it, and the Holy Roman Empire continued to exist
in theory until the wit of Voltaire and the big battalions of Napoleon
destroyed the sham for ever. In the poetic mind of Dante, with his
passionate aspiration for peace and righteousness, it became a beautiful
but ineffectual ideal of a kingship over kings; an Emperor curbing the
warring factions and states of Christendom and coercing such as
threatened to break the common peace, so that the golden days of the
_Pax Romana_ might be seen of men again. But the times were making for
nationality and not for empire, and the attempts of the great emperors
to realise their theoretical power were foredoomed to failure.
[Illustration: S. MARCO--INTERIOR--CHAPEL OF S. CLEMENTE.]
Such an attempt was made by Frederick Barbarossa. Reports came to his
ears of a rebellious and factious spirit in the south. The burgesses of
the Italian cities were growing restive under the imperial vicars. Milan
had attacked and wasted Lodi: the feudal princes both of Church and
State were scandalised by common burghers and mechanics rising to hold
public offices, and even exercising the profession of arms. Twice the
Emperor descended the Alps to bring the Italian communes to subjection.
For a time he was successful, but a new era was dawning in Italy. The
Lombard cities banded themselves in a league whose soul was the Pope,
and swore to make no peace with the Emperor until their communal rights
and privileges were secured. Venice, true to her policy of facing both
ways, at first held aloof; but later, fearing her turn might come next,
promised naval and financial aid to the league. The struggle continued
until 1176, when the flower of German chivalry, including the emperor
himself, bit the dust before the stout burghers of the Lombard League at
Legnano. Frederick, to punish the Venetians for their support of the
League and of Alexander III. against his own nominees for the papal
chair, moved their arch enemy the Patriarch of Aquileia to attack Grado.
He was defeated by the Doge and taken captive to Venice. With twelve of
his canons he purchased liberty by undertaking to pay a yearly tribute
of a fine bull, twelve pigs, twelve loaves of bread, and a quantity of
wine. A quaint ceremony marked the reception of the tribute. The Doge
with a train of nobles repaired to the ducal palace, where he struck
down certain wooden castles with a wand. Then in the presence of the
Doge and his suite a bull-fight took place in the Piazza; the pigs were
beheaded, cut in pieces, and distributed among the nobles. At later
celebrations a youth by an ingenious contrivance flew down from the top
of the Campanile to the balcony of the ducal palace and presented a
nosegay to the Doge. In Leonardo Loredano’s time the number of
recipients had so increased that it was decided to distribute the pigs
among the monasteries, and the bread and wine were given to the prisons.
In 1171, a few ships, all that remained of a fine merchant fleet in
Constantinople, sailed up the lagoons and roused the Venetians to fury
by the recital of a wanton attack on their countrymen in the East. All
the Venetians in the ports of the Empire had been seized by order of the
Emperor Manuel, cast into prison, and their property confiscated. The
Emperor had been secretly gathering his forces, and by leaning on the
Genoese felt strong enough to pay off old scores. An irresistible wave
of popular indignation swept the state into a war with the Eastern
Empire. To meet the cost a forced loan of one per cent. on property was
levied, a national bank formed, and state bonds were issued for the
amount of the loan bearing interest at four per cent. These securities
were quoted daily on the Rialto according to the fluctuations of the
market, and formed the first funded debt in Europe. In six months the
Doge set forth with a magnificent fleet and the flower of Venetian
manhood; but he wasted precious time in a punitive attack on Ragusa, and
while besieging the capital of Negropont, the ancient Eubœa, weakly
agreed to treat with the Emperor. The subtle Greeks temporised with the
Venetian envoys, one of whom, Enrico Dandolo, we shall hear of again.
Winter came, and a terrible pestilence wasted the Venetian forces. So
great was the mortality that the Giustiniani perished to a man, and the
last scion of this noble house was permitted to leave the cloister in
order to marry the Doge’s daughter and save his name from extinction.
Having raised up several sons, his wife retired to a convent and he to
his cell at S. Nicolo del Lido to fulfil his interrupted vow. Before a
year was past the unhappy Doge and all that remained of the expedition
returned to Venice. The city became infected with the plague, and the
angry people turned upon the Doge, who fled for refuge to S. Zaccaria,
but was cut down before he reached the threshold.
The hasty inception and calamitous issue of this ill-omened war
profoundly impressed the aristocracy of Venice. They determined that
neither popular passion nor ducal ineptitude should again sway the
policy of the state. The supersession of the democratic element and the
further curtailment of the ducal privileges were effected by an
elaborately-conceived constitution, which gave the shadow of power to
the people and the substance to the aristocracy. Each of the six wards
(sestieri) of the city was to elect two representatives, who were each
to appoint forty of the chief citizens of their respective wards to form
a great Council of four hundred and eighty members. The Council sat for
a year, and when its term was completed, it, _not the wards_, nominated
the twelve who were to appoint the Council for the following year. The
Council was to elect the officers of state, including the Doge, who was
chosen by eleven of its members delegated for that purpose. Further to
control the Doge the two privy councillors instituted in 1032 were
increased to six.
The constitution of 1172 narrowly escaped a baptism of blood. When the
new Doge, Sebastiano Ziani, was presented for popular approbation a riot
ensued, but the people were duped by an empty formula--_Quest’ è il
vostro doge se vi piace_ (This is your Doge if it be your pleasure), and
debauched by a more abundant distribution of largess and a more gorgeous
pageant.
The state of the finances no less than affairs on the mainland impelled
the Republic to come to terms with Manuel. To strengthen her hands an
alliance was sought with the Normans, and again we find Enrico Dandolo
an ambassador, this time at the Court of Sicily. Barbarossa was now
wearying of the struggle with the papacy. Like Henry IV., he found his
legions powerless against a feeble old man armed with the impalpable
weapons of the spiritual power. He had set up three schismatic popes,
seized the very seat of Peter at Rome, and driven Alexander III., a
wanderer and a suppliant, to the Courts of Europe. The indomitable old
pontiff at length found his way to Venice, _all’ unico domicilio di
libertà_, and an attempt at reconciliation was made. A splendid naval
procession went to meet him: a seat of honour was prepared for him in
the ducal barge between the Doge and the Patriarch, and apartments were
assigned to him in the patriarchal palace at S. Silvestre. Soon it was
reported that the Emperor himself was at Chioggia, and after many
negotiations terms were agreed upon.[14] A bitter morsel the Emperor was
forced to swallow. The uncompromising Pope would abate no jot of his
claims--the Emperor must solemnly recognise him as the true and only
successor of Peter, God’s vicar on earth, supreme over Cæsar.
[Illustration: S. MARCO AND THE DOGE’S PALACE, WITH THE LOGGETTA IN THE
FOREGROUND]
Sunday the 24th of July 1177 was a superb day for Venice. The whole
Piazza was alive with princes and peoples of many nations. Two tall
masts lifting up the banners of St Mark stood at the landing-stage by
the Piazzetta. The day before, the Emperor, who was not permitted to
land at Venice, “until he had set aside his leonine ferocity and put on
the gentleness of the lamb,” was brought in great pomp from Chioggia to
Lido and passed the night at the Abbey of S. Nicolo. In the early
morning the Pope, having received at St Mark’s the formal abjuration
of the schism by the Chancellor of the Empire, solemnly absolved the
Emperor from the ban of the Church. The Doge and a great procession then
set forth and brought the Emperor from Lido seated in the ducal barge
between Doge and Patriarch. When he disembarked a procession was formed
headed by the Doge, the Patriarch, and the clergy bearing banners and
crosses, behind whom walked the Emperor. Having reached the Piazza he
saw the Pope enthroned in full canonicals and surrounded by a throng of
cardinals, archbishops, bishops, and clergy awaiting him in front of the
atrium of St Mark’s.[15] “Touched by the Holy Spirit” he cast off his
purple cloak, bowed his neck, and prostrated himself at the Pope’s feet,
“venerating God in Alexander.” The pontiff then arose, stretched forth
his hand, raised the Emperor, gave him the kiss of peace and blessed
him. The air shook with the pealing of bells and the singing of the Te
Deum by the Germans. The doors of St Mark swung open, the Emperor,
giving his right hand to the Pope, led him to the altar, and having
received his benediction returned to the Ducal Palace. The next day at
the request of the Emperor a solemn mass was sung in St Mark’s by the
Pope. The Emperor laid aside his mantle, took a wand, expelled the laity
from the choir and led the aged Pope to the altar protecting him from
the crowd. Himself sat in the choir amid the clergy, and devoutly and
humbly listened to mass. At the sermon the Pope noticing the Emperor
close by the pulpit ordered the patriarch of Aquileia to translate the
sermon from Latin into German. The _credo_ having been sung, the Emperor
approached the Pope’s feet and made his oblations. At the end of mass
the Emperor took the Pope’s hand, led him to his white horse and held
the stirrup while he mounted. The Pope permitted him to go no further,
dismissed him, and gave him his blessing. The successful accomplishment
of this reconciliation added great lustre to the Venetian state. Never
had she stood so high in the eyes of Europe. Nor were more solid gains
lacking. Making the best of both worlds she received valuable privileges
both spiritual and political before Pope and Cæsar left her shores. Many
were the legends that clustered round this dramatic scene. Stories were
told in later days of the fugitive Pope arriving in Venice, in mean
attire, wandering about the tortuous ways until overcome by fatigue he
lay down and slept on the bare ground near the Church of S. Apollinare.
When rested he wandered on until he was received in the monastery of the
Carità, where he served six months as a common scullion. A Venetian who
had been on a pilgrimage to Rome recognised him. The Doge was advised
and the Pope led to the palace in great pomp. To this day near the
Church of S. Apollinare an inscription marks the legendary spot where
“Alexander III. reposed when fleeing from the violence of Frederick the
Emperor.” Frederick then bade the Venetians, so runs the fable, deliver
up the fugitive or he would plant his eagles in St Mark, where they had
never been before. To which the Doge retorted that the Venetians would
not wait for him, and on learning that a fleet of seventy-five ships
under the Emperor’s son, Otho, was under sail for Venice, set forth with
thirty-four galleys, attacked the imperial fleet, captured forty
vessels, sunk two, and made Otho prisoner. In the great scene before St
Mark’s the Emperor was imagined lying prostrate on the ground, the Pope
placing his heel on the imperial neck and saying: “I will tread on the
asp and on the basilisk.” To which the Emperor objected: “Not to thee
but to Peter”; to be quickly answered by the Pope: “Both to me and to
Peter.”
[Illustration: THE PIAZZETTA AND COLUMN OF S. MARK.]
[Illustration: COLUMNS OF SS. MARK AND THEODORE]
The festival of La Sensa was celebrated during the Pope’s stay at
Venice. The pontiff on that occasion handed a consecrated ring to the
Doge saying: “Receive this as a pledge of the sovereignty which you and
your successors shall have in perpetuity over the sea.” Henceforth
the ceremony was held with added magnificence, and became the
greatest of the many pageants for which Venice was so famous. On his
gilded barge, the Bucintoro, commanded by three admirals and many
captains of the fleet, and impelled by the arms of one hundred and sixty
shipwrights from the arsenal, four to each oar, stood the Doge
surrounded by the Patriarch and clergy, the great officers of state and
the foreign ambassadors, the standard of St Mark waving over their
heads. A great procession of gilded galleys and gondolas bright with
flags followed the Doge to the island of St Helena where a collation of
peeled chestnuts and red wine was offered by the Bishop of Castello and
his clergy, while the Doge presented damask roses in a silver cup. One
he took himself and distributed the others to his suite. The Bucintoro
then swept through the Porto of the Lido into the open Adriatic. The
patriarch blessed the ring and handed it to the Doge who cast it into
the sea pronouncing the formula: “Sea, we wed thee in token of our true
and perpetual dominion over thee.” From the musicians’ gallery on the
barge rang out a joyous theme, and the Doge returned to the Molo after
having heard mass at S. Nicolo. In the evening a banquet was given at
the palace to the admirals and the hundred masters of the arsenal, the
chief magistrates and the ambassadors. A great fair was held and the
city gave itself up to a week’s festivities. Such with some
modifications in detail was the famous wedding of the Adriatic, which
ended only with the Republic herself in 1797.
Among the spoil from Syria were three huge granite columns, one of which
had fallen into the canal during unloading: the other two lay on the
shore, and no one could be found to raise them. A proclamation was made
that any _onesta grazia_ would be granted to the master who should erect
them on the piazzetta. Many had tried and failed when Nicolo Barattieri,
a Lombard engineer, offered his services. He is said to have stretched
stout ropes, soaked them in water and fixed them to the pillars.[16] As
the ropes dried and contracted the columns “with great art and some
little assistance” were slowly elevated and were surmounted with the
familiar bronze and marble statues of the Lion of St Mark and St
Theodore. The former was cast and erected in 1178, the latter carved and
erected in 1329. When asked to name his reward, Nicolo begged permission
to set up gaming-tables between the columns. His request was granted,
but orders were given that all public executions should henceforth take
place there, and the “two red columns”[17] have a gruesome interest in
subsequent Venetian history. Two attempts, one in 1559, another in 1809,
were made to recover the third pillar. The same ingenious master is said
to have erected the first wooden Rialto bridge in 1173.
On Ziani’s retirement the method of electing the Doge was again
modified. Instead of the eleven, four members of the Great Council were
chosen who nominated an electoral college of forty. Only a single member
might be taken from any one family, and the forty elected the Doge by an
absolute majority of votes.
When the papal summons came to Venice in the reign of Ziani’s successor,
Mastropiero, for a naval contingent in the service of the third Crusade,
she held too great a stake in Syria to remain wholly indifferent. Manuel
promised satisfaction for the spoliation of the Venetians in 1177 by the
payment of a large indemnity, and the long struggle with the Hungarians
for the recovery of Zara and the Dalmatian protectorate was intermitted.
A fleet was sent to the east which bore a brave part in the relief of
Tyre and the famous two years’ siege of Acre. But Venice fought in
conjunction with her rivals of Pisa and Genoa, and it was not until the
barons of France, during the organisation of the fourth Crusade gave
her the opportunity of demonstrating her naval supremacy and controlling
the movement for her own ends that she put forth all her strength.
Enrico Dandolo, now an old man of more than four score years, was made
Doge in 1193. On his election he was made to subscribe to a _Promissione
ducale_ (coronation oath), an ingenious instrument designed in the
interests of the aristocracy, which defined and limited his powers.
Dandolo had inherited the Dalmatian trouble, and was occupied with
stubborn Zara, which for the fourth time had resisted the efforts of the
Venetians to recover it from the King of Hungary, when a wail of
distress from the hard-pressed Christians in Palestine reached the ears
of the great Pope Innocent III. and the fourth crusade was launched.
CHAPTER IV
_Enrico Dandolo and the Capture of Constantinople_
“August pleasant Dandolo
Worshipping hearts about him for a wall,
Conducted blind eyes hundred years and all
Through vanquished Byzant, where friends note for him
What pillar, marble massive, sardius slim,
’Twere fittest to transport to Venice’ square.”
--_Browning._
The fourth crusade afforded Venice an opportunity of rising to a
commanding position in Europe. She seized it with resolution yet with
the cautious deliberation so characteristic of her temper. Amid the
fervent enthusiasm of the crusaders she kept a cool head, ever intent on
directing the movement to the attainment of her secular policy--the
extension of her commerce and of her dominion in the East.
The story of the Conquest of Constantinople has been told for us by one
who played a leading _rôle_ in the drama, Jeffrey of Villehardouin,
Marshall of Champagne, who was one of the six envoys sent by the
organisers of the crusade to Venice to treat for the transport of the
army to the East. He was a man of simple piety and singleness of
purpose, a heroic soldier and capable administrator, but like his
fellows no match for the shrewd old Doge who then directed the policy of
the republic. It is difficult to say how far the almost cynical
exploitation of the crusaders’ enthusiasm, charged upon Venice by some
historians, was redeemed by nobler motives. The policy of making the
best of both worlds is not a modern invention, and states as well as
individuals are moved by mixed impulses. To the Doge and his councillors
it may well have seemed that the expansion of the Venetian Republic and
the cause of Christendom were not incompatible. Certain it is that this,
the finest armament that ever set sail to wrest the Holy Land over seas
from the infidel, was diverted by Venetian policy to an attack on the
possessions of a Christian prince, himself a crusader, and after wasting
a precious year melted away in a wanton conquest and spoliation of the
capital of Eastern Christendom, and in the attempt to maintain there a
Franco-Venetian Empire.
In February 1201 the envoys reached Venice and laid their request before
the Doge. A delay of three days was asked. On the fourth day they
entered the ducal palace, _qui mult ere riches et biaus_ (which was very
rich and beautiful), and found the Doge seated in the midst of his
Council. They prayed his help on behalf of the high barons of France who
had taken the cross to revenge the shame of Jesus and to reconquer
Jerusalem, for no people were so mighty on sea or so powerful to further
their cause. They entreated him in the name of God to have pity on the
land beyond the sea and on the shame of Jesus Christ, and lend them
warships and transports. “This,” replied the Doge, “is a great thing you
ask,” and begged eight days’ interval for reflection. In due time the
terms on which help would be forthcoming were stated. Venice would
furnish transports for 4500 horses and 9000 esquires, ships for 4500
knights and 20,000 footmen, with provisions for nine months. The sum
asked was 85,000 marks in silver of the standard of Cologne. The terms
were to hold good for one year from the day of the departure of the
Armata, “to do the service of God and of Christianity in whatsoever
place it may befall.” The Republic would add on her own part fifty armed
galleys on condition that of the conquests “which we shall make on land
or sea we shall have the one half and you the other.” The envoys
requested a day’s delay. They took counsel by night and in the morning
came before the Doge and agreed to the terms. “The Doge summoned the
Senate and Great Council, and by his great wisdom and clear wit disposed
them to do his will and praise his purpose. Then he assembled in the
Chapel of St Mark 10,000 of his people and bade them hear mass and pray
God for counsel concerning the envoy’s request, and so did they most
willingly. When mass was ended the Doge begged the envoys to come before
the people and humbly entreat them to agree to the conditions. There was
great curiosity to see the barons, and they were much gazed at. Jeffrey
spoke for them, and said: ‘Sirs! the highest and most powerful among the
barons of France have sent us before you. They crave that ye may take
pity on Jerusalem, which is in bondage to the infidel, and that for
God’s sake you be willing to aid therein to avenge the shame of Jesus
Christ, for they know no other nation so mighty as yours on the sea, and
they command us to fall at your feet and not to rise again till you have
granted their prayer and had pity on the Holy Land _oltremer_.’ Then the
six fell upon their knees with many tears at the feet of the multitude,
and the Doge and all his people burst into tears of pity and cried aloud
with one voice--‘We consent, we consent.’ Great was the tumult, so that
the very ground did shake. When the noise was calmed and that great pity
assuaged, the good Doge ascended the pulpit and said: ‘Sirs! behold the
honour that God hath shown you, in that the best nation in the world has
scorned all the other nations and chosen your company to effect together
a thing of such high import as the deliverance of our Lord.’ All the
fair words the Doge spoke to them I cannot relate.”
[Illustration: S. MARCO--INTERIOR, WITH PULPIT]
Sealed contracts were exchanged with more weeping and genuflexions, the
parties to the contract on either side swearing on the bodies of the
saints to well and loyally keep their bond. It was secretly agreed that
Babylonia (Old Cairo) should be the objective of the expedition.
Publicly it was given out that it was bound for beyond the sea. On the
Feast of St John, 1202, the Frankish host was to assemble at San
Nicolo on the Lido, and the vessels were to be ready. Every detail was
specified; the amount of bread and wine per man, and corn per horse. A
court of arbitration was formed to settle matters of dispute that might
arise. But selfish and worldly motives swayed the actions of too many
among the warriors of the cross and whole armies were foresworn. A rich
and powerful detachment set sail from Bruges after swearing on the
gospels to join at Venice, but engaged transports at Marseilles and
Genoa.
Walter of Brienne,[18] with many another great knight, went off to
Apulia to subdue the inheritance of his wife and promised to meet the
army at Venice. “But adventures befall as it pleaseth God,” and at the
trysting-place they were found wanting. Many others, including the
Bishop of Autun, broke their oaths.
Great was the consternation of the leaders of the crusade. The Venetians
had honourably, indeed generously, done their part. Never had such a
fleet been beheld by Christian men. But the crusaders were too few to
fill it or to meet the payment due. The barons spared neither entreaties
to their erring companions nor their own possessions and credit. Time
went on: the day for meeting their obligations was past; the Venetians
demanded payment; 30,000 marks were still wanting, perchance to the
secret satisfaction of the Republic, for the Venetians had no keen
desire to dislocate their remunerative trade with the East. The Sultan
of Egypt was their good friend. Commercial privileges had been granted
them while the crusaders were gathering at Venice. Two envoys, Marino
Dandolo and Dom. Michieli[19] set sail for Egypt, and in May 1202 had
concluded a secret treaty between the Republic and the Caliph, by which
in return for increased and substantial commercial privileges the
Venetians implicitly agreed to divert the fleet from any attack on
Egypt.
The Doge was not slow to make the most of the crusaders’ hard case. For
the fifth time Zara had revolted and was held for the King of Hungary.
The Frankish leaders were eating their hearts out at the delay; inaction
was demoralising their forces. The Doge offered a compromise. The
contract had been broken, and legally the amount paid was forfeited, but
if the barons would help the Venetians to subdue Zara on the way, the
_Armata_ might sail and payment of the balance of money be deferred. The
papal legate, Peter of Capua, indignantly declaimed against the bargain,
but the barons were in a cleft stick. They could do no other than
accept, and the chance of winning from the spoils of Zara enough to pay
the balance of their debt was a potent factor in their decision.
All was now ready; the people were assembled in St Mark’s on Sunday, the
barons being present, and says Villehardouin _ere mult gran feste_
(there was a very great festival). “Before Mass began the Doge ascended
the pulpit and said: ‘Sirs, ye are companions of the best nation in the
world for the highest emprise that ever man attempted. I am old and
feeble and have need of repose, nor am I whole in body; but I perceive
that none can guide nor command you so well as I who am your lord. If ye
will grant that I take the sign of the cross and watch over you and
direct you, and that my son remain in my stead to guard the land then
will I go to live or die with you and the pilgrims.’ When the people
heard him they all cried out, ‘We beseech you in God’s name that ye do
even as ye say.’ Then great pity melted the hearts of the people of the
city and of the pilgrims, and many tears were shed for this valiant man
who had so much cause to remain at home, being old, and though his eyes
were beautiful he saw not, because he had lost his sight through a
wound. But he was of exceeding great courage. He left the pulpit and
fell on his knees before the altar, and the cross was sewn on the front
of a great silken biretta that it might be seen of all. Then the
Venetians began to put on the cross in great numbers, for up to that day
few were they who joined.”
[Illustration: S. MARCO, CHOIR.]
At length on the octave of the Feast of the Holy Incarnation of Jesus
Christ the host took ship and set forth. Never did so great a fleet sail
from any port. “Ah! dear God,” exclaimed Jeffrey, “how many a good steed
was there, and great ships charged with arms and gallant knights and
squires and banners so fair.”
It was indeed a gorgeous and thrilling spectacle. Three chief Venetian
galleys, the _Peregrina_, the _Paradiso_ and the _Aquila_ towered above
the rest of the fleet. The vessels were one mass of glittering steel and
magnificently coloured banners, that of St Mark, a golden lion on
crimson ground, waved proudly in the wind. The air trembled at the blast
of trumpets. In swelling chorus the host burst forth into the _Veni
Creator Spiritus_, and the mighty fleet turned its prows--for Zara.
On the way a punitive call was made at Trieste, which agreed to pay
tribute to Venice. Another call was made at Omago and an oath of
allegiance exacted. Zara was reached on St Martin’s Eve, the 10th of
November. The stronghold so impressed the Marshal of Champagne that he
exclaims: “How shall such a city be taken except God be with us!” On the
18th, after a stubborn fight the city yielded, pillage followed and half
the booty went to each ally. The Pope was scandalised. He had tried to
tamper with the French: he now demanded the restitution of the pillage
of a city that belonged to a Christian king and crusader. The barons
excused themselves as best they might; the Venetians boldly told the
papal nuncio that the Holy See had no concern with the affairs of the
Republic.
The season was now far advanced, and the fleet wintered at Zara. The
chief of the Crusaders, Boniface, Marquis of Montferrat, who had stayed
at Venice, took up his command after the capture. The problem of the
fate of the expedition faced the allies. Already a bloody fray had
embittered the feeling between Venetian and Frank. Boniface, too, was
tempted by his own ambition. He claimed the kingdom of Salonika, and
hoped to subdue it with the help of the _Armata_.
And events seemed to beckon away from duty. The sickening drama of
bloodshed and treachery that stained the palace of the Greek Emperors
during the Comnenian dynasty had, in 1185, reached the point when Isaac
Angelos Comnenos, having stabbed his kinsman Andronicus (himself a
usurper), was enthroned at Constantinople. But a throne whose steps are
drenched with blood affords but a slippery foothold. In 1195 Isaac in
his turn was dethroned, cast into prison, and his sight destroyed by his
brother Alexius Angelos, who unaccountably spared Isaac’s son Alexius.
He was a bright lad twelve years of age when his father fell, and was
forced by his uncle to attend the court and exalt the usurper’s state.
He escaped, and after many vicissitudes reached the court of Philip of
Swabia, who had married his sister Irene. The fleet was on the point of
leaving Zara when the young Alexius arrived to implore the help of
Boniface on behalf of himself and his father Isaac. King Philip promised
in his nephew’s name tempting rewards. The moment was well chosen,
Boniface with an eye to Salonika lent a willing ear to his plaint:
Dandolo, too, apart from the 100,000 marks to be gained by another
year’s hire of the fleet, had politic reasons for giving the wronged
prince a sympathetic audience. Egypt would be safe from attack, and the
Venetians had an old score to settle with the Greeks, for a large part
of the indemnity promised by the Emperor Manuel for the wanton
spoliation of the Venetians in 1171 was still unpaid. Isaac, first
repudiating, then yielding to threats, had promised to pay the 200,000
marks due. When Alexius Angelos seized the throne the account was still
unsettled. He, too, was evasive, though ready enough to grant commercial
favours. The young Alexius, therefore, was told that the leaders would
receive him at Corfù, whither the fleet was bound.
But what of the unhappy infidel-ridden land over the sea? Many of the
more conscientious knights, mindful of their high purpose and of the
holy zeal with which they had set forth, loudly demanded to be led to
Syria. The Pope, who had just received news of the most wretched state
of the Christians in Palestine, wrote warning the crusaders that they
had taken the cross not to avenge the wrongs of princes but of God: he
refused his benediction, and menaced them with the curses of heaven. But
it was of no avail, present gain was more potent than a far call to
duty. At an opportune moment the young Alexius arrived. The chivalrous
natures of the crusaders were wrought upon: the recalcitrant knights
were swept away in a wave of enthusiasm for the wronged prince’s cause.
After much negotiation the start was made from Corfù on the eve of
Pentecost 1203. “There were all the transports and galleys of the host
and many a merchant ship. The day was fair and clear; the wind gentle
and mild; the sails were set to the breeze. And Jeffrey de Villehardouin
doth truly witness, who never lied in one word to his knowledge, and who
was present at every Council, that never was so fair a sight. And verily
it seemed that the fleet must subdue the land, for so far as the eye
could reach nought could be seen save the sails of ships and of vessels,
so that men’s hearts did much rejoice.” Once again the avenging host set
forth, and not against Saracen or Turk but against the capital of
Eastern Christendom.
To follow the incidents of the capture and re-capture of Constantinople
would take us too far. Venetian and Frank fought with desperate courage.
Dandolo by his local knowledge (for he had already been ambassador
there), by his iron will, his ready wit and dauntless spirit became
leader. It was a stupendous venture. The apparently impregnable city of
a million souls was girt by a double rampart of walls and towers, and a
moat wide and deep. The attacking force could have barely exceeded
20,000 men. Dandolo was the hero of the siege. At a critical moment the
brave old sea-dog was seen erect in his armour on the prow of his
galley, the gonfalon of St Mark unfurled before him. His men had
wavered; with entreaties and threats he urged them on. The galley was
driven ashore and the old fellow[20] leapt on to the beach, the gonfalon
being borne before him. From shame and humiliation the Venetians
followed. Twenty towers soon fell into the hands of the Venetians.
Meantime news came that the French were in danger. Alexius Angelos at
the head of sixty squadrons was about to fall upon them. Dandolo, with
characteristic chivalry, let the prize fall from his grasp and hastened
to relieve his allies. The very rumour of his coming was enough to scare
the craven heart of the Greek prince. He returned within the walls, and
having gathered a great treasure of gold and jewels, sought safety and
won disgrace by flight. Isaac was led from a dungeon to a throne: his
wife recalled to his side: his son restored to him. But his joy was
tempered by a hard and one-sided bargain. Fulfilment of the promise made
by Philip in the name of young Alexius at Zara was demanded by the
allies.
Twenty thousand marks were to be paid to the Venetians; the Greek Church
was to recant her heresy and submit to Rome: 10,000 men were to be
raised for the Holy Land. Young Alexius as he entered the city in
triumph by his bearing and presence won the hearts of the people. But
the bond lay heavily on the restored family. Holy vessels and images of
the saints were seized and melted; private fortunes were impounded. Yet
sacrilege and extortion combined did no more than meet in part the
demands of the allies. Disaffection began to show itself. Young Alexius,
fearing lest the departure of the crusaders would leave him at the mercy
of his fickle subjects, urged his deliverers to winter at
Constantinople, and promised to pay the Venetians for the extended hire
of the fleet. The more restive barons, chafing at the delay, were
overruled by the authority of the Doge. The young Prince gained his
purpose. Boniface was bribed by the promise of 1600 pieces of gold to
head him (now joint-Emperor with his father) on a tour of the provinces
to test the loyalty of his subjects and attempt the capture of his
uncle. But his popularity at the capital, already waning, was quenched
by the fanatical license of the Latins, who, in destroying a mosque and
in spoiling the Jews, wrought the destruction by fire of a whole quarter
of the city. On his return, young Alexius had to choose between his
subjects and the hatred of the Latins. He was weak and angered both. The
allies sternly demanded the execution of his bond. Their envoys with
almost incredible daring penetrated to the very throne-room of the
palace, passing lines of sullen and angry Greeks eager to leap at their
throats. They saw Isaac enthroned, between his wife and son and
surrounded by all the luxury and pomp of an Eastern court. In a
peremptory voice they delivered their ultimatum, strode proudly from the
imperial presence, leaped on their horses, and rode to camp. They were
but six, three Venetians and three Franks, who braved the fierce
passions of a treacherous populace and the armed retainers of a despotic
court. The rage of the Greeks at this insult reacted on the restored
family. Alexius Ducas, dubbed Murzuphles from his black and shaggy
eyebrows, led the revolt. The Venetian fleet was saved from destruction
only by the vigilance of a sentry and the address of the sailors.
The instrument of the popular vengeance was a Prince of far different
calibre from his namesake. His unscrupulous ambition was served by
energy, resolution and capacity. He first fawned on the young Alexius,
then seized his person and saw him strangled. At once grasping the
sceptre, the opportune death of Isaac spared him another crime. He sent
an envoy with a plausible story to the French camp and an invitation to
the chiefs of the army to dine at the palace, but the sagacity of the
Doge saved them from the fate that awaited them had they accepted.
After some parley the second siege of Constantinople was decided upon. A
plan of operations and the principles on which the booty was to be
shared were arranged. It was a tougher job than before. Murzuphles was a
resourceful leader; the Greeks were hot with the passion for revenge.
Early on the morning of the 9th of April 1204 the assault began. The
French made desperate though unsuccessful efforts to scale the walls.
But stout old Dandolo heartened his Venetians by an oration thus given
by Da Canale:--
“Sirs, marvel not that the French have failed to take the city, for
though they be brave men and wise they are not used to climb ships’
ladders as you are. Remember what your forefathers did at Tyre, and
through Syria and Dalmatia and Romania, where verily no fortress could
withstand their onslaught. I know well that ye be of such lineage that
no city can be defended against you. And I promise you, by the faith I
hold in God, that I will share among you the great treasure within the
city; and to the first who shall plant the ensign of Monsignor S. Marco
on the walls I will give 1000 perperi; to the second, 800; to the third,
500; to the fourth, 300; to the fifth, 200; and 100 to every one who
shall mount the walls. Now, be valiant, that the blood of your
forefathers, whose issue ye are, may be proven in you, so that by the
help of Jesus Christ and of S. Marco, and by the prowess of your bodies,
ye be masters of the city and may enjoy the riches thereof.”
On the 12th the second assault was made, and after varying fortune, by a
happy change of wind, the huge galleys, the _Pellegrino_ and the
_Paradiso_, the flagships of the bishops of Soissons and Troyes, firmly
locked together, were brought under one of the principal towers of the
city. The ladders just reached the summit. Two whose names are preserved
to us, Pietro Alberti of Venice and André d’Artoise of France, were the
first to win a foothold; their fellows swarmed up, and the tower was
won. Meanwhile three gates were battered down. Panic seized the Greeks,
and the besiegers rushed in. They stood by their arms all night, and in
the morning the enormous riches of the city lay before the victors. It
was forbidden to slay, but free scope was allowed to rapine. The sack of
the town began, and lasted through Holy Week. “Humanity reddens with
shame,” says Romanin, “and the mind recoils from telling the story of
the horrors committed.” The Crusaders’ lust was unrestrained even by the
sanctity of virgin vows. Nothing was spared. Palaces and houses were
ransacked; churches and sanctuaries stripped; priceless statues were
melted down; pictures torn to shreds. The Latin Christians wrought more
havoc in those few days than Hun, Sclav or Arab had done in as many
centuries. The Venetians, says Romanin, _che animo più gentile aveano_
(who were a more cultured people), exerted themselves to save as many as
possible of the wondrous works of art from destruction.
It had been decided that all the loot should be placed in three churches
set apart for that purpose, but large spoils of jewels and of smaller
objects of value were secreted by individuals. The worth of the French
plunder, after deducting the 50,000 marks due to the Venetians, amounted
to the magnificent sum of 400,000 marks. All over Western Europe the
monasteries and churches were enriched by reliquaries and precious
stones, some of them finding their way as far as Norfolk. The plunder of
the city, says Jeffrey, exceeded all that has been witnessed since the
creation of the world. The four famous bronze horses of St Mark’s formed
part of the Venetian spoil. It is related that a hind foot of one of the
horses was broken during the transit, and Morosini, the owner of the
galley that was freighted with them, begged permission to retain the
foot as a memorial. The Senate agreed, and had another foot cast and
fitted to the horse. “And,” says Sanudo, “I have seen the said foot at
the front of Morosini’s house in S. Agostino, whence it was afterwards
removed to the corner of a house in the SS. Apostoli.”
Two master passions dominated the Venetians--to possess living commerce;
and dead saints. As a centre of hagiolatry, Venice now became second to
Rome. She acquired the bodies of St Simeon the Apostle and of St Lucy,
part of the wood of the Holy Cross, some of the Holy Blood, part of the
body of St John the Baptist, the arm of St George the Martyr, and the
famous image of the Virgin, which still remains the object of Venetian
devotion in St Mark’s.
The political results were incalculable, for the chief bulwark of the
Cross against the growing power of the Crescent was shattered. Six
electors were appointed by each of the allies to choose an Emperor.
Dandolo by his commanding genius was the obvious choice, but he refused
the proffered honour and threw his weight on the side of Baldwin, Count
of Flanders, who became the first Latin Emperor of the East. Of the
territorial spoils St Mark took indeed the Lion’s share. One-fourth
formed the Emperor’s domain; another fourth was shared among the
Frankish lords, Boniface’s reward being the sovereignty of Crete and of
Salonika. To Venice went one-half--a rich possession, including the
Morea, the Ionian islands, the islands of the Archipelago, a large slice
of Thessaly, among other cities those of Adrianople, Trajanople and
Durazzo, the province of Servia and the coasts of the Hellespont. But
the Lion of St Mark had a greedy maw. Like the _Lupa_ in the “Inferno,”
after a meal he was hungrier than before. Crete, the largest and most
fertile of Mediterranean islands, was a trading centre of tempting value
and covetous eyes were set upon it. Boniface was approached, and for a
sum of 10,000 marks the island was transferred to Venice which at one
bound rose to be the dominant power in the Levant. To the title of Doge
of Venice, Croatia and Dalmatia was now added that of Despot and Lord of
one-fourth and one-half of the Romanian Empire. A Venetian--Tomaso
Morosini--was appointed to the Partriarchate of Constantinople, and the
Chapter filled with his nominees.
But to carve out territory on a map is one thing: effective possession
another. Adrianople was recalcitrant. In April 1205, while the united
forces of Baldwin and Dandolo were attempting to subdue it, the King of
Bulgaria, once spurned by the haughty Latins, appeared with a powerful
army to raise the siege. The Latins, attacking with their usual
impetuosity, were snared by the enemy’s light cavalry; the Emperor and
many knights taken prisoners; the main body put to flight. Jeffrey gives
a graphic picture of the disaster. The old Doge, infirm but unbroken in
spirit, advised a retreat to Constantinople and led the van. The retreat
was successfully accomplished but the Latins were in evil plight; their
Emperor was a prisoner; Boniface slain; the whole country swarming with
the Bulgarian light horse; an Armenian reinforcement wiped out. And now
the great Doge, their chief counsellor and leader, worn by disease and
privation, died. His long span of life was but two years short of a
century. He was buried in June 1205, with due pomp and honours, at St
Sophia in a private chapel belonging to the Venetians, “for even the
church was divided.”
The magnificent tomb erected to perpetuate his memory was destroyed by
Mahomet II. and the old hero’s breast-plate, helmet, spurs and sword
were afterwards given to Gentile Bellini, who brought them back to
Venice on his return from the Turkish court. To this day a marble slab
remains in the south gallery of the great mosque of S. Sofia with the
inscription--Henricus Dandolo. His best epitaph, is the simple phrase of
Jeffrey, _mult ere sages et proz_ (he was very wise and brave).
[Illustration: SUNSET ON THE ZATTERE.]
It was on the 20th of July that a post galley brought the sad news to
Venice that her greatest Doge lay dead. Pietro Ziani, a wealthy noble,
experienced in Venetian statecraft, was chosen to second him. The
Republic had now in fact become an empire. From the mother city along
the Gulf of Trieste over Dalmatia, Croatia, the Morea, the islands of
Corfù, Crete and the Archipelago from Greece to Constantinople, even up
to Syria, the standard of St Mark was planted. Most of the islands were
granted in fief to such of the leading Venetian nobles who engaged to
secure and maintain effective possession. Crete was made a great feudal
colony. Many vassals of the Greek Empire swore allegiance to their new
masters and promised tribute. But the cost of empire was soon felt. A
new loan was raised. A fleet of forty-three galleys and thirty ships was
placed under the joint-command of Premarino and of Dandolo’s son Renier,
for the seas were swarming with Genoese pirates and a heavy task
remained to consolidate and occupy the new possessions. The fleet sailed
eastwards and in its way captured the Genoese corsair Liovecchio, an old
enemy of the Republic, and twelve galleys; another, Arrigo Bellapolo,
with five galleys, met the same fate. The Venetians swept the sea. Da
Canale describes them as swooping down like hawks on their quarry. They
reached Corfù, hanged Liovecchio and planted a garrison there. Crete,
ever a stubborn and rebellious vassal, gave more trouble. Renier Dandolo
was slain, and many a stout Venetian bit the dust or died a sailor’s
death ere the dominion of Venice was made good. The Latins meanwhile had
recovered themselves at Constantinople, but their empire was a shadow;
the real masters were the Venetian governor and his ubiquitous
officials. Baldwin I. did not long survive his captivity. The story of
Joseph and Potiphar’s wife was enacted in his person and that of the
Bulgarian queen. He met a horrible death at the hands of the abused king
and his successor and brother, Henry of Flanders, held unquiet
possession of the Empire for ten years, continually fighting against
stubborn vassals. Henry’s sister, Yolande, and her consort, Peter of
Courtenay, next sat on the unstable throne. Their son Robert, a feeble
prince, succeeded. His incapacity and the anarchic state of the Empire,
raised the most vital problem that ever Venetian statesmen were called
to face. Events seemed inevitably tending to one solution--that they who
were masters in fact of the new Latin Empire should proclaim themselves
so in name. Doge Ziani called a meeting of the Great Council and put
forward a proposition, fraught with tremendous issues, that the seat of
the Government should be transferred from Venice to Constantinople. The
orations made by Ziani for and by the venerable Angelo Faliero against
the revolutionary motion are given at great length by the chroniclers. A
curious passage in the speech attributed to Faliero recalls Macaulay’s
famous New Zealander: “A few years hence perchance,” cried the old
statesman, “some Venetian traveller calling at these islands will find
our canals choked, our dykes levelled, and our dwellings razed. He will
see a few pilgrims wandering amid the ruins of our rich monasteries, a
scanty and fever-stricken population; and a foreign ruler will be
sitting in this very hall dictating laws to what was once Venice.” When
the motion was put to the vote the ballots for and against were found to
be equal, and a casting vote decided the fate of Venice. It was known
afterwards as the vote of Providence.
CHAPTER V
_Peace and War--The Holy Inquisition--Conflict with the Genoese--Loss of
Constantinople_
“Who hath taken this counsel against ... the crowning city, whose
merchants are princes, whose traffickers are the honourable of the
earth.”--_Isaiah._
The Easter of 1214, falling in a year of general peace and prosperity in
Italy, was celebrated by many great festivals. The Trevisans had sent
invitations to the whole surrounding country, especially to the
Venetians, and never was so magnificent a spectacle. The procession of
the Trade Guilds was witnessed by a great multitude, among whom were
2600 noble gentlemen and 3600 gentlewomen with a numerous train of
squires and pages and ladies-in-waiting. The principal feature was a
Castle of Love erected in the Piazza, with portcullis and turrets
complete, decorated inside and out with precious tapestry and other
sumptuous ornaments, wherein were placed the fairest and most graceful
dames and damsels richly clothed with silk and resplendent with jewels.
It was ordained that they should be striven for _per amore_ by three
companies of noble youths. On the one part the Trevisans essayed to
effect a surrender to them by calling, “_Madama Beatrice, Madama
Fiordelice! ora pro nobis!_” On the other part the Paduans exhorted the
ladies to yield to them, and shot into the Castle sweets, pasties, tarts
and roast chicken that they might eat and be well-disposed. But, if we
may believe Sanudo, the Venetians, with a profounder insight into
feminine psychology, cast in, with nutmegs, ginger, cinnamon and
sweet-smelling spices, _some ducats and other coins_. The fair garrison,
seeing the _gentilezza_ of the Venetian youths at once capitulated.
Whereupon was great rejoicing and the standard of St Mark was run up on
the Castle ramparts. This proved too much for the Paduans; they waxed
wroth and tore down the Venetian standard and broke it to pieces. An
undignified scuffle ensued and the celebration of peace ended in open
war. The Paduans aided by the Trevisans, wasted Venetian territory,
advancing near to Chioggia and threatening the fortress of Bebbe, but by
the prompt action of the Podestà of Chioggia, who called out the militia
without waiting for orders, the garrison was relieved and the Paduans
routed. Four hundred prisoners were made, among whom were two hundred
nobles, and taken to Venice. The Paduan prisoners were humiliated--it is
said by offering ten of them to any Venetian who brought a white
hen--and afterwards released without ransom through the mediation of the
Patriarch of Aquileia. The Chioggians were relieved of a tribute of
twenty couples of hens due to the Doge, and their Podestà was richly
rewarded.
For twenty-five years save one, Ziani presided over the destinies of the
Republic. Her commercial influence was extended. Valuable treaties were
concluded with Germany, Hungary, Aleppo, Egypt and Barbary.
“In this reign,” says Sanudo, “were two most saintly men, Francis of
Assisi and Domenic of Spain. Now St Francis returning[21] from beyond
the seas came to Venice where he found that many birds were come to sing
on the boughs of the trees in the marshes. He having gone thither with
his companion, stood in the midst of the birds reciting the offices and
commanded them to be silent; whereupon they kept silence, nor did they
depart until he had given them leave. And he stayed in a certain oratory
where at present are a church and monastery of the friars called San
Francesco del Deserto.” The traveller to-day on his way to Torcello
will see in the distance on his right hand the island and monastery,
with its picturesque setting of pine and cypress. It is still inhabited
by a few brothers and recalls the sweetest, gentlest human soul that
ever breathed since Him of Galilee.
The choice of Ziani’s successor gave rise to a novel incident. The votes
of the College were equally divided between Marino Dandolo and Giacomo
Tiepolo. For five days they were scrutinised in the vain hope of finding
a casting vote. The Senate then authorised an appeal to chance. Lots
were cast, and fortune declared in favour of Giacomo Tiepolo on the 6th
of March 1229. During the interregnum between the resignation of Ziani
and the election of his successor opportunity was taken to strengthen
still further the power of the aristocracy and to weaken that of the
Doge. A Board of Correctors of the Ducal _Promissione_ or Coronation
oath, and another of Inquisitors of the dead Doge were formed. The
former was composed of five men of great wisdom and experience, whose
duty it was to examine and reform the _Promissione_ at the death of each
Doge. On the latter board three sat who were charged to listen to the
complaints of those who felt aggrieved at any action of the late Doge;
to examine his papers for any unpaid debts, and award praise or blame of
his conduct whether as citizen or as head of the state. As a result, the
_Promissione Ducale_ exacted from Dandolo and Ziani was made still more
stringent in the case of Tiepolo. He was forbidden to communicate with
foreign princes or to interfere in ecclesiastical matters: he was made
to pay taxes. The _Promissione_ sworn by Tiepolo is given in full by
Romanin, and covers nine closely-printed large octavo pages. The details
are curious: the number of his cooks was fixed; he swore to receive no
gifts nor presents of any kind from any person save and except
rosewater, flowers, sweet-smelling herbs and balsam, “which it shall be
lawful for us and our agents to receive.”
[Illustration: ISLE OF S. FRANCESCO DEL DESERTO.]
A great work was done in the codification and reform of the statute
laws. The navigation laws were made a model of humane legislation.
Meanwhile anxious eyes were again turned to the East. As the Latin
kingdom waned the Republic had increased her power at Constantinople,
and in return for naval services the arsenal was ceded to her. On the
death of Robert Courtenay the crown descended to his brother, Baldwin
II., a lad of ten. But in stirring times a child emperor was impossible,
and John of Brienne, titular king of Jerusalem, a heroic old crusader,
was during his minority chosen as Emperor.
John of Brienne had filled his thankless office but two years when the
capital was menaced by the allied forces of the Emperor of Nicea and the
King of Bulgaria. It was a critical moment. The Latin army was much
reduced by desertion, and it is said Brienne had less than two hundred
knights and four hundred footmen to oppose an army of many tens of
thousands. But the brave old Emperor--he was eighty years of age--put
himself at the head of his little band and sallied forth to meet the
host. An impetuous charge scattered them like chaff. The Venetians, too,
were not slack. An urgent message had been sent for help, and a fleet of
twenty galleys was hastily sent to Constantinople, which swooped down on
the Greek fleet at the entrance to the Dardanelles. The whole _Armata_
and transports were destroyed or taken, and the Venetian admirals made
triumphant entry into Constantinople to receive the felicitations of the
Emperor. Two years later the Greeks were again foiled by the
irresistible onslaught of the Venetian and Latin fleets.
At the death of John of Brienne financial ruin was impending and a
strange expedient was adopted to raise a loan. Of the sanctuary spoils
at the taking of Constantinople, the crown of thorns had been appointed
to the emperor. It was now brought forth with the lance of the passion
and mortgaged to the Venetian Bailo of Constantinople, Alberto Morosini,
for the loan of 14,000 _perperi_ subscribed by the leading merchants.
The bill fell due: the money was not forthcoming and the security was
legally forfeited. But a third party was found in the person of a rich
Venetian banker, who, towards the end of the year 1237, advanced the sum
for a month to give breathing time. If the payment was again deferred
the lender might remove the relic to Venice for a period of four months,
which being expired the mortgagee was empowered to foreclose. Meanwhile
the saintly king, Louis IX. of France, had heard of the transaction and
was much scandalised. He sent two Dominicans to Constantinople to redeem
the pledge and secure the precious relic for Paris. It was, however,
already on its way to Venice when the two black friars reached the
capital of the Empire. The good ship that was freighted with the thorns
arrived at Venice on the 4th of September 1238. Hastily the envoys
retraced their steps and sought an audience of Tiepolo, who straightway
led them to St Mark’s and showed them the sacred treasure. They then
went to the banker and offered the money to redeem the pledge. It was
handed to the friars who returned joyfully to Paris. King Louis,
barefoot and in his shirt, took part in the solemn procession that
accompanied the relic through the streets of Paris and the Sainte
Chapelle, the richest gem of Gothic architecture in North Europe, was
built to receive it.
Commercial expansion continued through Tiepolo’s reign. Trieste renewed
her fealty and treaties were concluded with Ravenna, Padua and Ragusa.
The Sultans of Aleppo and of Egypt confirmed and extended privileges
granted to the Venetians, and owing to the skill of their ambassadors
Barbary and Armenia were generous in concessions. To the tale of
saintly relics were added the bodies of St Marina and of St Paul the
first hermit, minus the head.
“In Tiepolo’s time,” says Sanudo, “so I have read, our citizens went as
magistrates to all the cities of Italy, for they were righteous men.”
They were usually chosen by the free communes of Lombardy, where their
capacity and incorruptibility made them eagerly sought for. The Doge’s
son, Pietro, ruled at Treviso; a Zeno at Bologna; a Morosini at Faenza;
a Dandolo at Conegliano; a Badoer at Padua. The cities of the Lombard
League deposited their funds with Venetian bankers. The papacy which had
consistently taken the side of the free cities of Italy against the
western emperors now found herself sorely pressed in her fierce struggle
with Frederic II. Pope Gregory IX. turned with longing eyes to the one
Italian state that could decide the contest. Desire for vengeance and
state policy made it easy for Venice to join the league--at a price.
Eccelino da Romano, at Frederic’s instigation, had devastated Venetian
territory up to Mestre and Murano to punish the Republic for her moral
support to the league. It was agreed that the Venetians should fit out a
punitive expedition to Sicily, of which half the cost was to be met by
the Pope, who promised moreover to cede Bari and Salpi to them and to
grant in feud all the territory they might conquer in Apulia and Sicily.
Ferrara, formerly held from the Holy See by Azzo of Este, had become a
Ghibelline stronghold and Azzo had been banished. To Venice happily
Guelph and Ghibelline were but names. No factions destroyed her domestic
peace; no feudal tyrants spoiled her citizens, or fury of popular
jealousy flung itself against her nobles. But in Ferrara valuable
trading rights granted by the Countess Matilda and maintained by the
Guelphs were ignored by the Ghibellines. The restoration of these rights
was made the price of her alliance with the Papal forces in an attack on
Ferrara. The siege was a long one. The city was defended by the
Imperialists under the most famous soldier of the day, Taurelli
Salinguerra. At a critical moment the Papal legate appealed for help to
the Doge, who, impelled by memories of his great predecessor,
determined to take command of the forces in person. His son was left to
rule in his absence, and after mass in the Church of Santo Spirito the
expedition sailed forth, the Bucintoro, with the Doge on board, leading.
Ferrara was subdued and the Doge was careful before leaving to exact
from the restored Azzo the reinstatement of the Venetians in their
former advantageous position as traders. Meanwhile the naval expedition
had reached Apulia and after devastating many cities, returned to Venice
with a rich booty.
Tiepolo is said to have possessed a prodigious memory. “This note I have
found,” says Sanudo, “_solum_ in one chronicle, yet it was the truth.
This Doge was very wise and had great fame through all parts of the
world. When any ambassadors came to deliver their suits he held his eyes
shut: after he had heard he recited chapter by chapter and answered
everything which they had expounded in such manner that all marvelled
greatly at so profound a memory, for he was a most wise Doge.” On the
20th of May, 1249, Tiepolo, weary of his burden of the state, laid it
down to retire to his house in S. Agostino.
The foundation in 1234 of the Dominican Monastery and Church of Santi
Giovanni e Paolo (S. Zanipolo) was due, the chroniclers relate, to the
piety of the Doge, who saw in a vision the oratory and neighbouring
Piazza of San Danieli filled with flowers and white doves bearing on
their heads crowns of gold, and two angels came down from heaven and
perfumed the place with golden censers. Then a voice was heard saying:
“This is the spot I have chosen for my preachers.” Thereupon the Doge
made over certain marshy lands near Santa Maria Formosa to Brother
Alberico of the Dominicans, and aided by papal favour and the piety of
individuals the building was so far advanced by 1293 that it was ready
to accommodate the general chapter of the order. The facade was finished
in 1351, and after the lapse of a century the mortal remains of the
founder were laid there. His simple tomb wrought with figures of doves
and angels, recalling the visions, still exists on the left of the
entrance. The great church and monastery of the rival order of friars,
S. Maria Gloriosa dei Frari, was also begun in Tiepolo’s reign. Until
that time the friars of St Francis, says Sanudo, had no monastery in
this city and dwelt near S. Lorenzo, where they worked with their hands
and lived by their labour and by alms.
At Tiepolo’s death the electoral college increased to forty-one, chose
Marin Morosini, an experienced magistrate and civil servant, as his
successor. Meantime the Inquisitors had met and decided that the late
Doge had been too zealous in the advancement of his sons. A new clause
was therefore added to the coronation oath forbidding the Doge to ask or
cause to be asked any office for any person, or to accept any charge
outside Venetian jurisdiction or in Istria.
The short reign of Morosini was marked by one important innovation. The
Republic by tradition and policy was eminently tolerant. It was
essential to a great commercial metropolis that men of all nations and
of all creeds should freely assemble and carry on their business without
fear of ecclesiastical penalties. Venice therefore had consistently
refused to admit the tribunal of the Holy Inquisition within her
boundaries. In the _Promissione Ducale_ of Morosini, however, an article
was inserted by virtue of which the Doge was ordered to name in
agreement with his Council certain religious men of integrity and wisdom
who were to search out heretics, and commit to the flames those who were
declared to be such by the Patriarch of Grado or any of the bishops of
the Dogado. But before condemnation the consent of the Doge and his
Council had first to be obtained. The Republic thus asserted her
authority and defended her subjects from arbitrary and ecclesiastical
domination. This, however, was far from satisfying the papal
authorities. The Venetians were repeatedly exhorted to admit the
jurisdiction of the Holy Office itself, but nothing further was
effected until 1289 when it was decided to accept the Inquisition, but
under stringent limitations. Two of the three Inquisitors appointed by
the Pope were made subject to the veto of the Doge. Three lay
representatives, _the Savii all’Eresia_,[22] over whom the Vatican
should have no power to assert direct or indirect power, were to be
present at every session of the tribunal with the object of preventing
abuses, false accusations, or any exercise of arbitrary power. They had
the right to suspend proceedings or stay execution of sentences, and
were charged to keep the Government informed of all that transpired at
the sessions of the Holy Office. Generally they were to maintain the
purity of the faith while safeguarding the rights of the State. No
extradition was allowed. The property of condemned heretics[23] was to
descend to their heirs. The funds of the Holy Office were to be under
the charge of a Venetian treasurer who was to render his account and be
responsible to the civil authorities alone.
Morosini’s reign was a peaceful and happy one. “So long as he was Doge,”
says Da Canale, “the Venetians were doubly blest, and with joy and
gladness their hearts were filled. Every man, rich or poor, increased
his substance, for Messer Marino Morosini was right gracious and none
durst assail him in war. His ships went beyond the seas to all places
without guard of galleys: he had peace with all: the sea in his time was
void of robbers.”
The advent of Renier Zeno in 1253 to the Ducal throne was marked by a
further suppression of popular rights. It was decreed that, before
publication of the new Doge’s name by the electoral college of the
forty-one, the people should swear to accept their choice. The blow was
accompanied by an application of Napoleon’s favourite device--Amuse the
people with toys. A magnificent tournament and gorgeous processions
celebrated the new Doge’s election and enthronement. Zeno was a tried
administrator and soldier; he had commanded as _podestà_ the Bolognese
forces at the siege of Ferrara. Nor did his military genius rust for
lack of use. In his troublous reign of sixteen years began the long and
exhausting struggle with Genoa for naval supremacy and commercial
monopoly.
At St Jean d’Acre was a church dedicated to St Sabbas, and there the
Genoese and Venetians were wont to worship in common--each, however,
claiming exclusive ownership in the building. A dispute as to an alleged
Venetian corsair captured by the Genoese ended in a riot. The Genoese
raided the Venetian ships, sacked their quarter of the city, and burnt
the church.
After vain and perhaps insincere attempts at pacification Venice
determined to wreak vengeance on her rival, and in 1286 Lorenzo Tiepolo
was despatched with a fleet to Acre. He spoiled and burned the Genoese
vessels in harbour, landed and destroyed part of their settlement, and
after some fighting captured their stronghold, the castle of Mongioia.
They sued for a truce, which was granted for two months. As trophies and
palpable sign of his success, Tiepolo sent to Venice the short column of
porphyry which now stands at the south-west angle of St Mark’s known as
the _Pietra di Bando_, (proclamation stone), because there were
promulgated the laws of the Republic; and the two beautifully decorated,
square, marble columns that stand side by side facing the Piazzetta,
over against the south side of the church.
The truce was a hollow one. Each side was eager to try its strength
again, and fleets were hastily collected. A desperate battle was fought
between Acre and Tyre. The Genoese were defeated and their admiral was
taken prisoner. Meanwhile a second Venetian squadron raided the Genoese
settlements all over the Levant. Domestic troubles at Genoa prevented
for a time further action, but in 1258 a new fleet was fitted out and
set sail under Rosso della Turca to retrieve her fortunes. The
Venetians, too, had reinforced their admiral, and the hostile squadrons
met on Midsummer Day near the scene of Tiepolo’s former victory. A day
was spent in vain attempts by the Genoese admiral to outmanœuvre his
enemy. On the morrow he was forced to give battle. Before the action
Tiepolo delivered a stirring oration to his men, exhorting them to brave
deeds. He bade them remember that the honour of Venice, the command and
security of the seas, were at stake. A great shout of _Viva San Marco
protettore del Veneto dominio_ was raised, and the attack began. It was
a long, bloody and stubborn fight. In the end the Venetians were again
victorious. Twenty-five galleys and 2600 men were captured and sent to
Venice, the prisoners being lodged in St Mark’s granaries. The remainder
of the fleet was scattered and Tiepolo’s damaged vessels returned to
Acre to refit, where the Venetians in the heat of victory stained their
country’s reputation by a wanton attack on the Genoese quarter, which
they sacked and burned.
It was a heartrending spectacle to Christian Europe: another act in that
pitiful and suicidal struggle between the two most powerful maritime
states which in the end reduced one to impotence, and left the other too
exhausted to resist the advancing tide of Turkish conquest. The Papacy,
generally solicitous to compose the differences of Christian states,
intervened, and an honourable but temporary peace was made.
[Illustration: S. MARCO, FROM COLONNADE OF PALAZZO DUCALE.]
Three years passed and a fresh storm burst in the East. Under the feeble
rule of Baldwin II. the Latin Empire was tottering to its fall.
Self-indulgence and corruption had destroyed the character of the
Frankish knights, death, desertion and private interest had reduced
their numbers. The Emperor, poor futile creature, had employed most of
his reign in wandering about Europe from court to court, whining for
outside help. The Crown of Thorns had already been pledged, the rich
jewels and precious objects _alla greca_, the beautiful icons of gold
and silver, known in Sanudo’s time as the jewels of St Mark, had
followed, and the emperor’s son was now left at Venice, a princely pawn,
for a loan advanced by the Cappellos. Meanwhile by the energy of her
princes the Greek empire of Nicea was being welded into a powerful
military state. In 1260, Michael Paleologus, guardian of the heir to the
throne, had bid for and won the imperial office. To make his hold secure
he aimed at nothing less than the restoration of the Greek Empire at
Constantinople. By prudent and virile measures he had collected an army
of 25,000 men near the city under the command of his favourite general,
Alexios. One of the gates was treacherously opened by night. The city
was entered; the Greek inhabitants, weary of alien domination, welcomed
the invaders, and the imperial city that cost the apostasy of a
Christian army, two sieges and the flower of Frankish chivalry, was lost
in a night. Venice truly had long foreseen the danger, and had kept a
great armament in the Bosphorus to watch events. Was she playing for a
higher stake and hoping ultimately to pick up the falling Frankish
sceptre? _Chi sa?_ What did happen to the amazement and disgust of the
Home Government was that the fleet, when the critical moment came, was
away on a punitive expedition in Thrace, and returned only in time to
receive the fugitive Baldwin and the Venetian governor. The crestfallen
admirals gazed impotently at the reddening sky, on a multitude of their
fellow-countrymen and their allies on the shore stretching forth their
hands to implore protection, and heard the cries of the victims, and the
exultant shouts of the conquerors in the city. On the 26th of July 1261,
Michael Paleologus made a triumphant entry into Constantinople, once
more the capital of the Greek Empire, and the pillage was stayed. It was
a bitter humiliation to Venice. She knew the Genoese had secretly allied
themselves with the new Emperor, and soon learned the price of the
alliance. The island of Chios, a Venetian possession, was made over to
them for a trading station. The very palace of the Venetian governor was
surrendered to them, and later was razed, the more precious of its
marble decorations being sent as spoil to Genoa.
[Illustration: DETAIL: PALAZZO ZICHY-ESTERHAZY]
Negropont, a Venetian fief, was with Michael’s approval seized and the
Venetians expelled. All the results of more than fifty years’ effort and
sacrifice were lost in a few hours, and the proud masters of the masters
of the Latin Empire found themselves degraded to the level of Pisa in
the city they perhaps regarded as their ultimate prize.
CHAPTER VI
_The Duel with Genoa--The Closing of the Great Council_
“The dire aspect
Of civil wounds ploughed up with neighbours’ swords.”
--_Shakespeare._
But Venice was yet in the full vigour and buoyancy of lusty manhood, and
nerved herself to regain her lost position. Alone among the Italian
states she was able to evoke a fervent, whole-hearted patriotism. Rich
and poor, patrician and plebeian were stirred. To the amazement of her
enemies, fleet after fleet was expedited against the Genoese. Some minor
engagements were fought with varying success, and at length the two
powers met off Trapani in 1264 for a final battle. The Genoese were
superior in numbers, and had the wind in their favour. The Venetians,
having intoned the gospel for the day and called for help on Christ and
Monsignor S. Marco, began the attack. A fierce struggle ensued on the
interlocked vessels, which formed a vast battlefield. The carnage was
terrible. At length Venetian courage and Venetian skill inflicted a
crushing defeat on the Genoese, who lost the whole of their fleet.
The affection of the Greek Emperor for the Genoese was now chilled; he
sued for terms, and after much debate, in which the forward party in
Venice vainly pushed their policy of founding a new empire, with its
centre at Constantinople, a treaty was signed in 1268, by which Venice
recovered her commercial standing in the capital, though she chafed
under the necessity of tolerating the presence of her rivals.
[Illustration: S. MARCO--FAÇADE AND CAMPANILE]
In 1265 the banner of the Cross was again raised in Venice, this time
against an Italian prince, Eccelino da Romano, the black-browed monster
of Padua, who for his infamous cruelty was immersed by Dante up to his
eyes among the tyrants in the river of boiling blood. A platform was
erected in the Piazza, from which the papal legate, the Archbishop of
Ravenna, inveighed against the atrocities committed by the _serverissimo
tiranno_ whom the Pope had excommunicated, declaring that if he were
permitted to live longer it would be to the shame of Christendom. The
Doge made an oration in support of the crusade, and Venice joined the
league against the tyrant. Eventually Padua was stormed and captured,
Eccelino’s victims released, himself in a later engagement mortally
wounded by a bowshot. He fell, asking the name of the place where he was
struck. “Sire,” replied his attendant, “it is called Cassano.” An
astrologer had foretold that he should die at Bassano. “Bassano,
Cassano,” the dying lord was heard to mutter, “small difference is there
between Bassano and Cassano.” He plucked the arrow from the wound,
thrust aside a friar who sought to confess him and died impenitent.
Never was such joy in Italy, says Da Canale, as when the news came that
the tyrant, more cruel than Pharaoh or Herod, was slain. The bells were
rung all over Venice in praise of God, even as they do on saints’ days.
In the evening all the towers were illuminated with candles and torches
so that it was a great marvel to see. The same annalist, writing of
Venice with all the enthusiasm of an Elizabethan singing the praises of
England, gives a vivid picture of his native city as it appeared towards
the end of the thirteenth century. “In the year of the Incarnation of
our Lord 1267, I, Martin da Canale, toiled and travailed so that I found
the ancient story of the Venetians and how they made the fairest,
noblest and pleasantest city in the world, filled with all beauty and
excellency. And I have set me to translate this story for the honour of
that city men call Vinegia from Latin into French, for that language
hath course throughout the whole world and is more delightful to read
and to hear than any other. For I would have all men to know, who may
travel thither, how the noble city is built; how filled with all good
things and how mighty is the lord of the Venetians, the most noble Doge;
how powerful are her nobles; how full of prowess her people and how all
are perfect in the faith of Jesus and to Holy Church obedient, for
within that noble Venice neither heretic, nor usurer, nor murderer, nor
thief, nor robber dares dwell. And I pray Jesus Christ and His sweet
mother, St Mary, and Monsignor St Mark, the Evangelist (in whom after
Jesus Christ we have put our trust), that they may grant health and long
life to Monsignor the Doge and to the Venetians. From all places come
merchants and merchandise, and goods run through that city even as
waters do from fountains. Provisions in abundance men find there, and
bread and wine and land-fowl and water-fowl, meat, fresh and salt, and
great fish from the sea and from the rivers. You shall find within that
fair city a multitude of old men and youths, who, for their nobleness,
are much praised; merchants, and bankers, and craftsmen, and sailors of
all kinds, and ships to carry to all places, and great galleys to the
hurt of her enemies. There, too, are fair ladies, youths and maidens
adorned most richly.” The chronicler describes the Piazza much as we see
it in Gentile Bellini’s picture (p. 262). “St Mark’s is the most
beautiful square in the world. Towards the east is the fairest church in
the whole world, the Church of Monsignor St Mark, and next is the palace
of Monsignor the Doge, great and most marvellously beautiful. Towards
the south is the end of the Piazza over the sea, and on the side of that
Piazza (the Piazzetta) is the palace of Monsignor the Doge, and on the
other side are palaces to house the commoners, and these hold as far as
the Campanile of St Mark, which is so great and high that the like could
not be found. And there, next the Campanile, is a hospital which Madonna
the Dogaressa has built to receive the sick, and men call it the
Hospital of St Mark. Next are the palaces of the treasurers, whom the
Venetians call the procurators of St Mark, and next to their mansions
are the palaces to lodge nobles, and these houses go far along the
Piazza up to a church (S. Geminiano). On the other side (N.) are noble
buildings for high barons and gentlemen, and these reach as far as the
church of St Mark.”
The firm hand kept by the aristocracy on civil government was felt
during Zeno’s reign. The Genoese were too high-spirited to submit to
terms while under the shame of defeat and a new naval war was imminent.
To meet the cost the corn tax was increased and a bread riot took place
on the Piazza. The Doge tried in vain to reason with the mob, and at
last was driven to resort to force. Troops were levied; the sedition was
crushed; the ringleaders were beheaded between the red columns. But when
order was restored the obnoxious tax was quietly withdrawn. The
Government was severe to aristocratic brawlers. Two of the Dandolo
family sided with the people, and Lorenzo Tiepolo, son of Doge Giacomo,
headed the Government party. The rival leaders met in the streets and
Tiepolo was assaulted. The Dandoli were at once heavily fined and a law
was passed forbidding the people to have the escutcheons of any nobles
painted on their houses or to wear any of their emblems. The Doge died
in 1268 and was honoured with a sumptuous State funeral in S. Zanipolo.
Before the election of a successor the most complicated machinery ever
devised by the wit of man for the election of a chief magistrate was
elaborated by the Venetian aristocracy.
The youngest of the Privy Councillors having invoked the divine blessing
in St Mark’s, issued forth and laid hands on the first boy he met on the
Piazza. Meantime the Great Council met and having excluded all members
who were under thirty years of age, those that remained were counted.
Ballots equal in number to the purged Council were then prepared, into
thirty of which was inserted a piece of parchment inscribed with the
word “_lector_.” The ballots[24] were placed in a hat; the captured boy
was introduced and bidden to draw out the ballots and hand one to each
Councillor. The ballots were then opened and the thirty who held the
parchment stayed in the chamber; the others left. The thirty reduced
themselves to nine by the same process; which nine sat in close conclave
until they had chosen forty, each by a majority of at least seven votes.
These forty were reduced by lot to twelve. The twelve elected
twenty-five, each by a majority of at least nine votes. The twenty-five
were again reduced to nine, who chose forty-five, each by at least seven
votes. The forty-five reduced themselves to eleven who made the final
choice of forty-one by at least nine votes each. The electoral college
of forty-one thus formed, having heard the Mass of the Holy Ghost, met
and chose three presidents and two secretaries. Each elector in turn
placed the name of his candidate in an urn. The secretaries unfolded the
papers and read out the names. The papers were again folded and placed
in the urn and one was extracted. If the candidate thus selected were in
the room, he was ordered to withdraw, and each elector invited to state
his objections to him. The candidate was then called in to refute any
charges made against him, and a last vote was taken for or against the
candidate. If he obtained twenty-five ballots he was declared Doge. The
election was proclaimed, and a deputation led the Doge-elect to the
Ducal Palace, and then by the ducal staircase to St Mark’s. He ascended
the marble pulpit to the left of the choir and showed himself to the
people. Having heard mass, he swore fealty to the State and to observe
its laws. The Primicerio then solemnly invested him with the ducal
mantle and handed him the standard of the Republic. He was then chaired
and made the usual tour of the Piazza, distributing largess to the
people. Afterwards he ascended the great staircase (after the Giants’
Staircase was built he stood between the statues of Mars and Neptune),
where the oldest Councillor placed the ducal cap on his head. A banquet
given by the Doge to the electors completed the ceremony.
[Illustration: DOGE’S PALACE FROM ISOLA S. GIORGIO.]
Such, with slight modifications, was the machinery by which the Doges
were elected until the fall of the Republic. The ceremony over, public
festivities followed. By Da Canale’s vivid description of the rejoicings
that attended the election of Lorenzo Tiepolo in 1268 we are able to
gain some idea of what they were like. “On the day of S. Apollinare was
such great joy in Venice that the mouth of man could not tell of it. For
the Venetians had remembrance of Messer Jacopo Tiepolo, father of
Lorenzo, how noble and debonnair, how famous for good deeds he was, and
great were their hopes of Messer Lorenzo.” Soon as the good news was
known the bells rang a glad peal, and all the people, even the little
children, ran to St Mark’s shouting, “Messer Lorenzo Tiepolo is made
Doge!” After mass and consecration he was given the gonfalon of St Mark
all of gold. Having ascended the palace stairs he stood, gonfalon in
hand, while the lauds[25] were sung, and again swore fealty to the
people and spake wisely to them. Meanwhile his chaplains went to S.
Agostino to fetch the Dogaressa, and to her also were praises sung. On
the morrow, having made a public reconciliation with the Dandoli, a
naval review was held on the Grand Canal in front of the Ducal Palace,
led by Pietro Michiel, who with a great fleet of galleys was about to
sail overseas. Choirs were aboard who sang the ducal lauds. The waters
were alive with boats of all kinds, those of Torcello and Murano
adorned with banners and shields distinguishing themselves by their
splendour. A grand procession of Guilds next defiled before the Doge.
First came the master smiths, two by two, each wearing a garland,
accompanied by their trumpeters and other musicians and by their
standard-bearers. As they came in front of the Doge they saluted him and
wished him long life and victory. His serenity returned a gracious
answer, and they then went their way shouting, “_Viva nostro Signor
Messer Lorenzo Tiepolo_,” to S. Agostino, to salute the Dogaressa. Then
followed the furriers, dressed in ermine, calimanco and taffeta; the
tanners, richly clothed in rare furs and bearing silver cups and phials
filled with wine; the weavers, clad in finest cloth; the tailors,
magnificently arrayed in white garments, adorned with vermilion stars
and trimmed with furs, “and the great joy they made must be truly told,
for they set their gonfalon in front, with trumpets and instruments of
music, and gave themselves up to great gladness, singing _canzoni_ and
folk-songs; and having in their turn saluted their new lord right well,
went their way to Madame the Dogaressa rejoicing exceedingly.” The
wool-workers bore olive branches in their hands and garlands of olive on
their heads--they, too, were filled with great joy. The silk-weavers,
“they that make pellisses right richly,” decked their bodies all anew
with coats and mantles of fustian. The makers of quilts and doublets, to
honour their lord, arrayed themselves newly with cloaks of white,
trimmed with _fleur-de-lys_, and each cloak had a hood richly dight with
pearls set in gold; little children marched in front of them. The makers
of cloth of gold were apparelled in cloth of purple and of gold, with
crowns of pearls set in gold; the shoemakers and mercers in fine silk
and cloth of gold; the cheesemongers and pork butchers in cloth of
scarlet and purple and divers colours, wearing garlands of pearls and
gold; the fishmongers and poulterers followed, “and know, sirs, that
right well should Messer Lorenzo Tiepolo have them that sold fish in
remembrance as they passed, for many a fair trout and sturgeon and other
great fish had he obtained from them.” The glass-makers bore some of the
finest of their wares in their group, and the comb-makers a cage full of
birds of all kinds, and as they passed, opened the door and set the
birds free to delight the Doge. And “there, sirs, you would have heard
great laughter on all sides.” But the barber surgeons were they that
most distinguished themselves by their ingenuity. They had with them two
men on horseback armed cap-à-pie, called knights-errant, who escorted
four damsels, most gorgeously apparelled, two on fair steeds and two on
foot. On reaching the Doge one of the horsemen dismounted and making
obeisance, cried: “Sire, we be two knights-errant who rode to seek
adventure, and enduring pains and travail have won these fair damsels.
Now are we come to your Court, and if there be any knight who is minded
to prove his body and win these strange damsels we are ready to defend
them.” “Sirs,” answered the Doge, “ye are welcome, and may the Lord let
you rejoice in your conquest, for I will that ye be honoured at my
Court.” The knight then remounted his steed and all cried, “Long live
our lord, Messer Lorenzo Tiepolo,” and went their way to repeat the play
before the Dogaressa.
How many were the Guilds that took part in the procession we know not
for Da Canale stays his narrative to tell of the Genoese wars, after
describing the goldsmiths wearing on their caps and cloaks, pearls and
gold and silver, sapphires, emeralds, jacinths, amethysts, jaspers and
carbuncles and other precious stones. After the procession an exhibition
was held in the palace, of all the arts of Venice, in honour of the
Dogaressa.
Scarcely had the echoes of the music and shouting in the Piazza died
away when the gaunt spectre of famine hovered over Venice. The wheat
harvest had failed in Europe, the Crusaders had devastated Africa, and
she appealed to her allies on the mainland for help. A strong state ever
fighting for its own hand may win the respect born of fear, but
sympathy, never. The entreaties of Venice fell on deaf ears. Strenuous
efforts were made to collect cargoes of corn from Dalmatia, Greece and
even Asia. In the nick of time a small consignment came in from Dalmatia
and was immediately distributed with absolute impartiality among the
people. When the pressure was relieved, a corn office, consisting of
three _magistrati delle Biade_, was created to control the corn trade
and take measures to prevent any future possibility of famine. The
bas-relief in the Ducal Palace, now known as the Cobden Madonna (p.
253), commemorates the wise means adopted by these magistrates in a time
of scarcity two centuries later.
The coronation oath sworn to by Tiepolo was made even more stringent on
the accession of Jacopo Contarini in 1275. The Doge was fast becoming
little more than the official mouthpiece of the aristocracy. A clause
binding the Doge to keep himself informed of the number of prisoners in
the cells at the Ducal Palace and to see that each and every prisoner
should be brought to trial within a month of his incarceration,
demonstrates how careful the aristocracy were to justify power by wise
principles of government. Contarini was an old man of eighty when he
accepted office, and after six years retired on an annuity of 1500 lire,
the first pension ever granted to a Doge. The steady pursuance of
commercial aggrandisement brought Venice in the previous reign into
conflict with Bologna. Duties were levied on all ships trading in the
ports between Ravenna and Fiume, and a captain of the Gulf of Adria
appointed to exact them by force of arms. It was only too apparent that
Venice aimed at making the whole Adriatic a Venetian sea, and in 1283
the territories of the Republic in Dalmatia were menaced by a formidable
coalition of Aquileia, Ancona, and the Count of Goritz.
The Republic replied by laying siege to Trieste. During the armistice
granted by Morosini, the Venetian commander, to enable the Patriarch of
Aquileia to bury his nephew, fallen in battle, a certain Contestabile of
Infantry, Gerard of the Long Lances, was found to have corresponded with
the enemy by means of slips of paper attached to his arrows. He
confessed under torture and was shot from a mangonel into the enemy’s
camp, a mangled mass of treachery. The siege was, however, a failure,
and Morosini on his return was disgraced and imprisoned. The victorious
allies marched on Caorle, captured the _podestà_ and burned his palace:
they even singed the very mane of the Lion of St Mark by a descent on
Malamocco. The executive, endowed with unlimited powers, made a levy _en
masse_ on the whole able-bodied population, another armament was fitted
out and at length Trieste fell. The Pope, anxious to buttress the
tottering fabric of the Latin dominion in the East, effected a peace,
and a huge bonfire in the Piazza made of the surrendered Triestine
artillery satisfied Venetian pride, though her attempt to dominate the
Adriatic was but partially successful.
The sleepless eyes of Venetian statesmen were now turned southwards.
Constance of Swabia, unhappy Manfred’s
“bella figlia, genitrice
dell’ onor di Cicilia e d’ Aragona,”[26]
by her marriage brought the strong arm of Peter of Aragon to enforce her
claims to the throne of the Two Sicilies, which the Pope’s darling,
Charles of Anjou, had won by the defeat of Manfred and the destruction
of the Ghibelline cause at Benevento.
The Republic, still smarting under the commercial condominium of the
Genoese at Constantinople, and enticed by the prospect of regaining her
former ascendency, was drawn into an offensive and defensive alliance
with the Pope and Charles against the Greeks. But on Easter Eve, in
1282, an insult offered to a noble Sicilian damsel by a French soldier
fired the rage of the Sicilians, and before the dawn of Easter Day
the blood of eight thousand French in Palermo alone had glutted their
vengeance. The Sicilian Vespers wrecked Charles’s fortunes, and the
Republic turned to renew her former understanding with the Greek
Emperor. Martin IV., enraged at the defection of his ally, laid Venice
under the ban of the Church, but his opportune death soon made
reconciliation possible.
[Illustration: DOGE’S PALACE--THE JUDGMENT OF SOLOMON CORNER]
Visitors to Venice may have noticed a traditional motto written in brass
nails on some of the gondolas that ply for hire which admirably sums up
the old popular Venetian idea of government: _Pane in Piazza: Giustizia
in Palazzo_ (Bread in the market-place: Justice in the palace). This
principle always inspired the rule of the aristocracy. In 1284, during
Giovanni Dandolo’s reign, a calamitous inundation had plunged the people
into misery. To meet their urgent needs a loan was raised on Government
security, and ten thousand bushels of wheat were distributed at a
nominal cost among the people.
In October of the same year the mint issued the first gold ducat of
Venice, which for centuries was famous for its purity, fineness and
weight throughout the whole commercial world. Orders were given that it
was to be similar to and even purer than the golden florin of Florence,
which had been coined thirty-two years before. Sanudo remembers to have
seen an inscription on marble in the mint, dated 1285, commemorating the
first striking of the gold ducat of the Venetians in honour of the
Blessed Mark the Evangelist and of all saints, in the reign of the
renowned Doge of the Venetians, Giovanni Dandolo. This beautiful
zecchino (sequin) was worth about nine shillings and sixpence in English
money, and admirably illustrates the dress of the Doges during a period
of five hundred and thirteen years. The evolution of the _corno_ or horn
on the ducal bonnet may be clearly traced on the coins issued between
the reigns of Francesco Foscari and Leonardo Loredano.
The sepulchre had hardly received the body of Giovanni Dandolo in 1289
when a formidable demonstration in favour of Giacomo, son of Doge
Lorenzo Tiepolo, put the new constitution to a severe test. Giacomo, son
and grandson of Doges, was known to have popular leanings, and so
threatening was the attitude of the crowd on the Piazza that the Privy
Council personally urged him to disclaim any intention of accepting the
proffered honour.
Tiepolo, preferring his country’s peace to the gratification of his own
ambition, exhorted the crowd to respect the law, and left for the
mainland till the crisis should be past. But the delicate electoral
machinery was never for a moment put out of gear. The provisional
Government was appointed; through all the tumult the electors calmly
rattled their ballots in the Ducal Palace, and to the sullen displeasure
of the popular party a prominent aristocrat, Pietro Gradenigo, was
proclaimed Doge twenty-three days after the death of his predecessor.
For the first time the officer who recited the formula: _Quest’è il
vostro doge si vi piacerà_, turned aside without staying to receive the
approbation of the people.
The long reign of Gradenigo (1289-1311) is one of the most important in
the annals of Venice. By the fall of Acre in 1291 the doom of the
Christian power in the Holy Land was sealed, and Venice, whose interest
in the Crusades and in the Latin dominion over Syria was frankly a
commercial one, turned the new situation to her own advantage. Her
policy was to frustrate her rivals, the Genoese. To the scandal of
Christendom a treaty was concluded with the infidel in 1299, and ere
long slaves and materials of war were openly sold by the Venetians in
their ports. The Sultan declared in the charter his steadfast will that
the Venetians should be protected and honoured beyond all people in the
world, and entitled to the sole right of a Saracen escort for Christian
pilgrims to Jerusalem. The Genoese found themselves squeezed out of the
coast towns, and Venice in exclusive possession of the Syrian trade.
[Illustration: ON THE GRAND CANAL.]
The Pope, anxiously revolving the sad vicissitudes of the Christians
in the east, turned to Venice and Genoa, praying them for the love of
Christ to combine and save the fair island of Cyprus, still unpolluted
by the presence of the infidels. But the lion of St Mark was a fierce
yoke-fellow. The more restricted the field of influence became between
Venice and Genoa the more bitter grew their jealousy. Two fleets were,
however, fitted out in response to the Papal appeal. Their prows had
scarcely touched Cyprian waters when a fight took place between some of
the allied ships, and to the edification of the Saracen the two greatest
maritime powers of Christendom were soon engaged in mutual destruction.
Unavailing efforts were made by the Church to heal the strife, for while
the Dominican envoys were treating at Venice the feverish activity at
the arsenal told too plainly that the time for the peacemaker was not
yet come. Rumours soon reached Venice of an alliance between the Genoese
and the Greeks and of the threatened closure of the Dardanelles to her
ships. She delayed no longer to strike. All her seamen between sixteen
and sixty were enrolled; her patrician houses were called to furnish
their part of a new armament, and on October 7th, 1294, the fleet was
under sail. The admiral, Marco Besegio, sighted the Genoese fleet under
Nicolo Spinola off Ayas, in Asia Minor. The enemy was inferior in
strength, and Besegio, too confident perhaps of victory, was
out-manœuvred, defeated with heavy losses, and himself slain. The
Genoese, to clinch their victory, despatched a mighty fleet of nigh two
hundred sail manned by forty-five thousand men, among whom were the
chiefs of their noble houses. Meanwhile Venice, shrewdly calculating
that the heavy financial strain involved in the maintenance of so huge
an armament would soon wear the enemy out, steadily equipped a new
fleet, called out a fresh levy, and concentrated her force on the
defence of the lagoons. Before a year was past the Genoese, after
spoiling and slaughtering the hapless inhabitants of Canea in Crete,
returned to port.
Early in 1295 news came to Venice which stung her to fury. A street row
at Constantinople had developed into a general attack by the Genoese on
the Venetians. The former were victorious, and after flinging the
Venetian Governor out of the windows of the palace, dashing him to
pieces, proceeded to an indiscriminate massacre of the inhabitants of
the Venetian colony. The Greeks sent envoys to disclaim any
responsibility in the outrage, but they were hectored by the Doge, who
demanded an enormous indemnity, which served but to cement their
alliance with the Genoese. Late in the spring the Venetian commander,
Ruggieri Morosini, with a fleet of forty galleys, forced the
Dardanelles, wasted the Genoese suburb of Galata and laid siege to
Constantinople. Meanwhile another fleet, under Giov. Soranzo, entered
the Black Sea and sacked the Genoese settlement of Caffa; but the
elements amply avenged the Genoese. Soranzo returned to Venice bearing
an unheroic story of vessels disabled and men frozen to death by the
rigours of an Euxine winter. The year 1297 passed in petty expeditions,
and towards the end of the autumn Boniface VIII. essayed to negotiate a
peace. The magnanimous Pope (Dante’s pet enemy) went so far as to offer,
if the Genoese paid one-half, to pay himself the other half of the
claims of the Venetians, but the latter rejected all compromise, and
Boniface despairing of success inculpated the pride of Venice, and
washed his hands of the whole business. Each power prepared for a final
struggle.
Among the wealthy Venetians whose enthusiasm took the form of offering
themselves and their ships to the common cause was a certain Marco Polo
but recently returned from adventurous journies in the mysterious lands
of the Grand Khan of Tartary; in Persia, China, Japan, and the Indies;
and who from his wonderful stories of the million peopled cities and
millions of jewels and treasure he had seen in his twenty-five years’
wanderings was popularly known as Messer Marco Milione. In August 1298
all was ready and a fleet of ninety-five sail, under the command of
Andrea Dandolo, set its course southwards and came upon the Genoese
squadron of eighty-five vessels, under Lamba Doria off the island of
Curzola. The fleets were about evenly matched, and on September 8th the
action began. Doria, by superior seamanship, got the weather gauge and
the Venetians, fighting too with the sun in their eyes, were routed.
Twelve galleys, whose captains, panic-stricken, had abandoned the fight,
alone escaped. With abject mien they told the extent of the disaster.
The fine fleet was sunken, captured or burned, the loss in killed
appalling, and seven thousand of their countrymen were on their way to
Genoese prisons.[27] Among the captives was Messer Marco Milione
himself, who to relieve the tedium of his imprisonment, dictated in
halting French to his prison comrade Rustichello the story of his
wanderings and adventures. A small court, in which Marco Polo’s house
stood on a site now covered by the Malibran Theatre, is called to this
day the Corte del Milione.
[Illustration: REMAINS OF MARCO POLO’S HOUSE]
Venice, conscious that her staying power was greater than her rival’s,
without a moment of panic set about equipping another fleet of a hundred
galleys. But Genoa, exhausted by her costly victory, was willing to
treat, and in 1299 the Imperial Vicar of Milan effected a peace between
the Republics on honourable terms.
During the Genoese war the aristocracy had quietly matured plans for
fencing off their preserves from any intrusion of the democracy. Two
abortive attempts had been made in 1286 and 1296 to restrict membership
of the Great Council to members of the aristocracy. Gradenigo, who was a
leader of iron will and indomitable purpose, succeeded the next year in
achieving the revolution in the Constitution known as the shutting of
the Great Council (Serrata del Gran Consiglio). The Quarantia[28] were
charged (1) to put to the ballot one by one all who for the past four
years had sat in the Great Council. Those who received not less than
twelve votes were to be members up to Michaelmas, when, after being
subjected to a new ballot, they were to serve for a further period of
one year. (2) Three electors were to be appointed who should submit
further names of non-members of the Great Council for election under the
same system of ballot. (3) The three were to sit in the Council until
Michaelmas, when they were to be superseded by other three, who should
sit for a year. (4) The law could not be repealed save with the consent
of five of the six privy councillors, twenty-five of the Quarantia, and
two-thirds of the Great Council. Such were the chief provisions of the
measure which transformed the aristocracy into an oligarchy and created
the Maggior Consiglio.
[Illustration: DOGE’S PALACE--SALA DEL MAGGIOR CONSIGLIO]
It will be seen that by the second clause an avenue was left open by
which a Venetian, not a member of the favoured class, might enter the
aristocratic close, but it was rendered inoperative by the principle
which the three laid down for their guidance, that only those whose
paternal ancestors had been members of the Great Council between 1172
and 1297 should be eligible for ballot. The effect of the change was to
increase the number of the Council. In 1296 it consisted of two hundred
and ten members. In 1311 they had risen to ten hundred and seventeen; in
1340 to twelve hundred and twelve; in 1490 to fifteen hundred and
seventy; and in 1510 to sixteen hundred and seventy-one.
In 1315 it was enacted that a book be kept for the inscription of the
names of all persons above eighteen years of age who had the right to
enter the Council. So keen was the ambition to be inscribed that in the
year following a fine of thirty lire was imposed on all those whose
names were unlawfully entered and who did not remove them within a
month. In 1319 _Avvogadori_, a sort of heraldic officers, were appointed
and charged to subject to the severest scrutiny the titles of applicants
for inscription, and in order to frustrate any attempt to tamper with
the electors it was ordained that as many ballots should b
Showing first 200,000 characters. Full text: gutenberg.org/ebooks/41209