RENAISSANCE IN ITALY

The Age of the Despots

by

JOHN ADDINGTON SYMONDS

Author of _Studies of the Greek Poets_, _Sketches in Italy and Greece_, etc. 

'Di questi adunque oziosi principi, e di queste vilissime armi, saràpiena la mia Istoria'

Mach. 1_st_. _Fior_. Lib. I. 

New YorkHenry Holt and Company

1888

TO

MY FRIEND

JOHN BEDDOE, M. D. , F. R. S. , I DEDICATE MY WORK

ON

THE ITALIAN RENAISSANCE. 

AUTHOR'S EDITION

AUTHOR'S NOTE TO THE AMERICAN EDITION. 

Though these books taken together and in the order planned by the authorform one connected study of Italian culture at a certain period ofhistory, still each aims at a completeness of its own, and each can beread independently of its companions. That the author does not regardacquaintance with any one of them as essential to a profitable readingof any other has been shown by the publication of each with a separatetitle-page and without numeration of the volumes, while all three bearthe same general heading of "Renaissance in Italy. "

PREFACE. 

This volume is the First Part of a work upon the 'Renaissance in Italy. 'The Second Part treats of the Revival of Learning. The Third, of theFine Arts. The Fourth Part, in two volumes, is devoted to ItalianLiterature. 

Owing to the extent of the ground I have attempted to traverse, I feelconscious that the students of special departments will find much to bedesired in my handling of each part. In some respects I hope that theseveral portions of the work may complete and illustrate each other. Many topics, for example, have been omitted from Chapter VIII. In thisvolume because they seemed better adapted to treatment in the future. 

One of the chief difficulties which the critic has to meet in dealingwith the Italian Renaissance is the determination of the limits of theepoch. Two dates, 1453 and 1527, marking respectively the fall ofConstantinople and the sack of Rome, are convenient for fixing in themind that narrow space of time during which the Renaissance culminated. But in order to trace its progress up to this point, it is necessary togo back to a far more remote period; nor, again, is it possible tomaintain strict chronological consistency in treating of the severalbranches of the whole theme. 

The books of which the most frequent use has been made in this firstportion of the work are Sismondi's 'Républiques Italiennes'; Muratori's'Rerum Italicarum Scriptores'; the 'Archivio Storico Italiano'; theseventh volume of Michelet's 'Histoire de France'; the seventh andeighth volumes of Gregorovius' 'Geschichte der Stadt Rom'; Ferrari's'Rivoluzioni d' Italia'; Alberi's series of Despatches; Gino Capponi's'Storia della Repubblica di Firenze'; and Burckhardt's 'Cultur derRenaissance in Italien. ' To the last-named essay I must acknowledgeespecial obligations. It fell under my notice when I had planned, and ina great measure finished, my own work. But it would be difficult for meto exaggerate the profit I have derived from the comparison of myopinions with those of a writer so thorough in his learning and sodelicate in his perceptions as Jacob Burckhardt, or the amount I owe tohis acute and philosophical handling of the whole subject. I must alsoexpress a special debt to Ferrari, many of whose views I have adopted inthe Chapter on 'Italian History. ' With regard to the alterationsintroduced into the substance of the book in this edition, it will beenough to say that I have endeavored to bring each chapter up to thelevel of present knowledge. 

In conclusion, I once more ask indulgence for a volume which, though itaims at a completeness of its own, is professedly but one part of a longinquiry. 

CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER I. 

THE SPIRIT OF THE RENAISSANCE. 

Difficulty of fixing Date--Meaning of Word Renaissance--The Emancipationof the Reason--Relation of Feudalism to the Renaissance--MediævalWarnings of the Renaissance--Abelard, Bacon, Joachim of Flora, theProvencals, the Heretics, Frederick II. --Dante, Petrarch, Boccaccio--Physical Energy of the Italians--The Revival of Learning--TheDouble Discovery of the World and of Man--Exploration of the Universeand of the Globe--Science--The Fine Arts and Scholarship--Art Humanizesthe Conceptions of the Church--Three Stages in the History ofScholarship--The Age of Desire--The Age of Acquisition--The Legend ofJulia's Corpse--The Age of the Printers and Critics--The Emancipation ofthe Conscience--The Reformation and the Modern CriticalSpirit--Mechanical Inventions--The Place of Italy in the Renaissance P. 1. 

CHAPTER II. 

ITALIAN HISTORY. 

The special Difficulties of this Subject--Apparent Confusion--Want ofleading Motive--The Papacy--The Empire--The Republics--The Despots--ThePeople--The Dismemberment of Italy--Two main Topics--The Rise of theCommunes--Gothic Kingdom--Lombards--Franks--Germans--The Bishops--TheConsuls--The Podestas--Civil Wars--Despots--The Balance of Power--TheFive Italian States--The Italians fail to achieve National Unity--TheCauses of this Failure--Conditions under which it might have beenachieved--A Republic--A Kingdom--A Confederation--A Tyranny--The Partplayed by the Papacy P. 32. 

CHAPTER III. 

THE AGE OF THE DESPOTS. 

Salient Qualities of the Fourteenth and Fifteenth Centuries inItaly--Relation of Italy to the Empire and to the Church--TheIllegitimate Title of Italian Potentates--The Free Emergence ofPersonality--Frederick II. And the Influence of his Example--Ezzelino daRomano--Six Sorts of Italian Despots--Feudal Seigneurs--Vicars of theEmpire--Captains of the People--Condottieri--Nephews and Sons ofPopes--Eminent Burghers--Italian Incapacity for Self-government inCommonwealths--Forcible Tenure of Power encouraged Personal Ability--TheCondition of the Despot's Life--Instances of Domestic Crime in theRuling Houses--Macaulay's Description of the ItalianTyrant--Savonarola's and Matteo Villani's Descriptions of a Tyrant--TheAbsorption of Smaller by Greater Tyrannies in the FourteenthCentury--History of the Visconti--Francesco Sforza--The Part played inItalian Politics by Military Leaders--Mercenary Warfare--Alberico daBarbiano, Braccio da Montone, Sforza Attendolo--History of the SforzaDynasty--The Murder of Galeazzo Maria Sforza--The Ethics of Tyrannicidein Italy--Relation of the Despots to Arts and Letters--SigismondoPandolfo Malatesta--Duke Federigo of Urbino--The School of Vittorino andthe Court of Urbino--The Cortegiano of Castiglione--The Ideals of theItalian Courtier and the Modern Gentleman--General Retrospect P. 99. 

CHAPTER IV. 

THE REPUBLICS. 

The different Physiognomies of the Italian Republics--The Similarity oftheir Character as Municipalities--The Rights of Citizenship--Causes ofDisturbance in the Commonwealths--Belief in the Plasticity ofConstitutions--Example of Genoa--Savonarola'sConstitution--Machiavelli's Discourse to Leo X. --Complexity of Interestsand Factions--Example of Siena--Small Size of Italian Cities--MutualMistrust and Jealousy of the Commonwealths--The notable Exception ofVenice--Constitution of Venice--Her wise System of Government--Contrastof Florentine Vicissitudes--The Magistracies of Florence--Balia andParlamento--The Arts of the Medici--Comparison of Venice and Florence inrespect to Intellectual Activity and Mobility--Parallels between Greeceand Italy--Essential Differences--The Mercantile Character of ItalianBurghs--The 'Trattato del Governo della Famiglia'--The Bourgeois Tone ofFlorence, and the Ideal of a Burgher--Mercenary Arms P. 193. 

CHAPTER V. 

THE FLORENTINE HISTORIANS. 

Florence, the City of Intelligence--Cupidity, Curiosity, and the Love ofBeauty--Florentine Historical Literature--Philosophical Study ofHistory--Ricordano Malespini--Florentine History compared with theChronicles of other Italian Towns--The Villani--The Date1300--Statistics--Dante's Political Essays and Pamphlets--DinoCompagni--Latin Histories of Florence in Fifteenth Century--LionardoBruni and Poggio Bracciolini--The Historians of the First Half of theSixteenth Century--Men of Action and Men of Letters; theDoctrinaires--Florence between 1494 and 1537--Varchi, Segni, Nardi, Pitti, Nerli, Guicciardini--The Political Importance of theseWriters--The Last Years of Florentine Independence, and the Siege of1529--State of Parties--Filippo Strozzi--Different Views of FlorentineWeakness taken by the Historians--Their Literary Qualities--FrancescoGuicciardini and Niccolo Machiavelli--Scientific Statists--Discordbetween Life and Literature--The Biography of Guicciardini--His 'Istoriad'Italia, ' 'Dialogo del Reggimento di Firenze, ' 'Storia Fiorentina, ''Ricordi'--Biography of Machiavelli--His Scheme of a NationalMilitia--Dedication of 'The Prince'--Political Ethics of the ItalianRenaissance--The 'Discorsi'--The Seven Books on the Art of War and the'History of Florence. P. 246. 

CHAPTER VI. 

'THE PRINCE' OF MACHIAVELLI. 

The Sincerity of Machiavelli in this Essay--Machiavellism--Hisdeliberate Formulation of a cynical political Theory--Analysis of 'ThePrince'--Nine Conditions of Principalities--The Interest of theConqueror acknowledged as the sole Motive of his Policy--Critique ofLouis XII. --Feudal Monarchy and Oriental Despotism--Three Ways ofsubduing a free City--Example of Pisa--Principalities founded byAdventurers--Moses, Romulus, Cyrus, Theseus--Savonarola--FrancescoSforza--Cesare Borgia--Machiavelli's personal Relation tohim--Machiavelli's Admiration of Cesare's Genius--A Sketch of Cesare'sCareer--Concerning those who have attained to Sovereignty byCrimes--Oliverotto da Fermo--The Uses of Cruelty--Messer Ramiro d'Orco--The pessimistic Morality of Machiavelli--On the Faith ofPrinces--Alexander VI. --The Policy of seeming virtuous andhonest--Absence of chivalrous Feeling in Italy--The Military System of apowerful Prince--Criticism of Mercenaries and Auxiliaries--Necessity ofNational Militia--The Art of War--Patriotic Conclusion of theTreatise--Machiavelli and Savonarola P. 334. 

CHAPTER VII. 

THE POPES OF THE RENAISSANCE. 

The Papacy between 1447 and 1527--The Contradictions of the RenaissancePeriod exemplified by the Popes--Relaxation of their hold over theStates of the Church and Rome during the Exile in Avignon--NicholasV. --His Conception of a Papal Monarchy--Pius II. --TheCrusade--Renaissance Pontiffs--Paul II. --Persecution of thePlatonists--Sixtus IV. --Nepotism--The Families of Riario and DeliaRovere--Avarice--Love of Warfare--Pazzi Conspiracy--Inquisition inSpain--Innocent VIII. --Franceschetto Cibo--The Election of AlexanderVI. --His Consolidation of the Temporal Power--Policy toward Colonna andOrsini Families--Venality of everything in Rome--Policy toward theSultan--The Index--The Borgia Family--Lucrezia--Murder of Duke ofGandia--Cesare and his Advancement--The Death of Alexander--JuliusII. --His violent Temper--Great Projects and commanding Character--LeoX. --His Inferiority to Julius--S. Peter's and the Reformation--AdrianVI. --His Hatred of Pagan Culture--Disgust of the Roman Court at hisElection--Clement VII. --Sack of Rome--Enslavement of Florence P. 371. 

CHAPTER VIII. 

THE CHURCH AND MORALITY. 

Corruption of the Church--Degradation and Division of Italy--Opinions ofMachiavelli, Guicciardini, and King Ferdinand of Naples--Incapacity ofthe Italians for thorough Reformation--The Worldliness and Culture ofthe Renaissance--Witness of Italian Authors against the Papal Court andthe Convents--Superstitious Respect for Relics--Separation betweenReligion and Morality--Mixture of Contempt and Reverence for thePopes--Gianpaolo Baglioni--Religious Sentiments of theTyrannicides--Pietro Paolo Boscoli--Tenacity of Religions--The directInterest of the Italians in Rome--Reverence for the Sacraments of theChurch--Opinions pronounced by Englishmen on Italian Immorality--BadFaith and Sensuality--The Element of the Fancy in Italian Vice--TheItalians not Cruel, or Brutal, or Intemperate by Nature--DomesticMurders--Sense of Honor in Italy--Onore and Onesta--GeneralRefinement--Good Qualities of the People--Religious Revivalism P. 447. 

CHAPTER IX. 

SAVONAROLA. 

The Attitude of Savonarola toward the Renaissance--His Parentage, Birth, and Childhood at Ferrara--His Poem on the Ruin of the World--Joins theDominicans at Bologna--Letter to his Father--Poem on the Ruin of theChurch--Begins to preach in 1482--First Visit to Florence--SanGemignano--His Prophecy--Brescia in 1486--Personal Appearance and Styleof Oratory--Effect on his audience--The three Conclusions--HisVisions--Savonarola's Shortcomings as a patriotic Statesman--His sincereBelief in his prophetic Calling--Friendship with Pico dellaMirandola--Settles in Florence, 1490--Convent of San Marco--Savonarola'sRelation to Lorenzo de' Medici--The death of Lorenzo--Sermons of 1493and 1494--the Constitution of 1495--Theocracy in Florence--Piagnoni, Bigi, and Arrabbiati--War between Savonarola and Alexander VI. --TheSignory suspends him from preaching in the Duomo in 1498--Attempts tocall a Council--The Ordeal by Fire--San Marco stormed by the Mob--Trialand Execution of Savonarola P. 497. 

CHAPTER X. 

CHARLES VIII. 

The Italian States confront the Great Nations of Europe--Policy of LouisXI. Of France--Character of Charles VIII. --Preparations for the Invasionof Italy--Position of Lodovico Sforza--Diplomatic Difficulties in Italyafter the Death of Lorenzo de' Medici--Weakness of the Republics--IlMoro--The year 1494---Alfonso of Naples--Inefficiency of the Allies tocope with France--Charles at Lyons is stirred up to the Invasion ofItaly by Giuliano della Rovere--Charles at Asti and Pavia--Murder ofGian Galeazzo Sforza--Mistrust in the French Army--Rapallo andFivizzano--The Entrance into Tuscany--Part played by Piero de'Medici--Charles at Pisa--His Entrance into Florence--Piero Capponi--TheMarch on Rome--Entry into Rome--Panic of Alexander VI. --The March onNaples--The Spanish Dynasty: Alfonso and Ferdinand--Alfonso II. Escapesto Sicily--Ferdinand II. Takes Refuge in Ischia--Charles at Naples--TheLeague against the French--De Comines at Venice--Charles makes hisRetreat by Rome, Siena, Pisa, and Pontremoli--The Battle ofFornovo--Charles reaches Asti and returns to France--Italy becomes thePrize to be fought for by France, Spain, and Germany--Importance of theExpedition of Charles VIII. P. 537. 

 * * * * *

APPENDICES. 

No. I. --The Blood-madness of Tyrants 589

No. II. --Translations of Nardi, 'Istorie di Firenze, ' lib. L. Cap. 4; and of Varchi, 'Storia Fiorentina, ' lib. Iii. Caps. 20, 21, 22; lib. Ix. Caps. 48, 49, 46 592

No. III. --The Character of Alexander VI. , from Guicciardini's 'Storia Fiorentina, ' cap. 27 603

No. IV. --Religious Revivals in Mediæval Italy 606

No. V. --The 'Sommario della Storia d' Italia dal 1511 al 1527, by Francesco Vettori 624

RENAISSANCE IN ITALY. 

CHAPTER I. 

THE SPIRIT OF THE RENAISSANCE. 

Difficulty of fixing Date--Meaning of Word Renaissance--The Emancipationof the Reason--Relation of Feudalism to the Renaissance--MediævalWarnings of the Renaissance--Abelard, Bacon, Joachim of Flora, theProvençals, the Heretics, Frederick II. --Dante, Petrarch, Boccaccio--Physical Energy of the Italians--The Revival of Learning--TheDouble Discovery of the World and of Man--Exploration of the Universeand of the Globe--Science--The Fine Arts and Scholarship--Art Humanizesthe Conceptions of the Church--Three Stages in the History ofScholarship--The Age of Desire--The Age of Acquisition--The Legend ofJulia's Corpse--The Age of the Printers and Critics--The Emancipation ofthe Conscience--The Reformation and the Modern CriticalSpirit--Mechanical Inventions--The Place of Italy in the Renaissance. 

The word Renaissance has of late years received a more extendedsignificance than that which is implied in our English equivalent--theRevival of Learning. We use it to denote the whole transition from theMiddle Ages to the Modern World; and though it is possible to assigncertain limits to the period during which this transition took place, wecannot fix on any dates so positively as to say--between this year andthat the movement was accomplished. To do so would be like trying toname the days on which spring in any particular season began and endedYet we speak of spring as different from winter and from summer. Thetruth is, that in many senses we are still in mid-Renaissance. Theevolution has not been completed. The new life is our own and isprogressive. As in the transformation scene of some great Masque, sohere the waning and the waxing shapes are mingled; the new forms, atfirst shadowy and filmy, gain upon the old; and now both blend; and nowthe old scene fades into the background; still, who shall say whetherthe new scene be finally set up?

In like manner we cannot refer the whole phenomena of the Renaissance toany one cause or circumstance, or limit them within the field of any onedepartment of human knowledge. If we ask the students of art what theymean by the Renaissance, they will reply that it was the revolutioneffected in architecture, painting, and sculpture by the recovery ofantique monuments. Students of literature, philosophy, and theology seein the Renaissance that discovery of manuscripts, that passion forantiquity, that progress in philology and criticism, which led to acorrect knowledge of the classics, to a fresh taste in poetry, to newsystems of thought, to more accurate analysis, and finally to theLutheran schism and the emancipation of the conscience. Men of sciencewill discourse about the discovery of the solar system by Copernicus andGalileo, the anatomy of Vesalius, and Harvey's theory of the circulationof the blood. The origination of a truly scientific method is the pointwhich interests them most in the Renaissance. The political historian, again, has his own answer to the question. The extinction of feudalism, the development of the great nationalities of Europe, the growth ofmonarchy, the limitation of the ecclesiastical authority and theerection of the Papacy into an Italian kingdom, and in the last placethe gradual emergence of that sense of popular freedom which exploded inthe Revolution; these are the aspects of the movement which engross hisattention. Jurists will describe the dissolution of legal fictions basedupon the false decretals, the acquisition of a true text of the RomanCode, and the attempt to introduce a rational method into the theory ofmodern jurisprudence, as well as to commence the study of internationallaw. Men whose attention has been turned to the history of discoveriesand inventions will relate the exploration of America and the East, orwill point to the benefits conferred upon the world by the arts ofprinting and engraving, by the compass and the telescope, by paper andby gunpowder; and will insist that at the moment of the Renaissance allthese instruments of mechanical utility started into existence, to aidthe dissolution of what was rotten and must perish, to strengthen andperpetuate the new and useful and life-giving. Yet neither any one ofthese answers taken separately, nor indeed all of them together, willoffer a solution of the problem. By the term Renaissance, or new birth, is indicated a natural movement, not to be explained by this or thatcharacteristic, but to be accepted as an effort of humanity for whichat length the time had come, and in the onward progress of which westill participate. The history of the Renaissance is not the history ofarts, or of sciences, or of literature, or even of nations. It is thehistory of the attainment of self-conscious freedom by the human spiritmanifested in the European races. It is no mere political mutation, nonew fashion of art, no restoration of classical standards of taste. Thearts and the inventions, the knowledge and the books, which suddenlybecame vital at the time of the Renaissance, had long lain neglected onthe shores of the Dead Sea which we call the Middle Ages. It was nottheir discovery which caused the Renaissance. But it was theintellectual energy, the spontaneous outburst of intelligence, whichenabled mankind at that moment to make use of them. The force thengenerated still continues, vital and expansive, in the spirit of themodern world. 

How was it, then, that at a certain period, about fourteen centuriesafter Christ, to speak roughly, the intellect of the Western races awokeas it were from slumber and began once more to be active? That is aquestion which we can but imperfectly answer. The mystery of organiclife defeats analysis; whether the subject of our inquiry be agerm-cell, or a phenomenon so complex as the commencement of a newreligion, or the origination of a new disease, or a new phase incivilization, it is alike impossible to do more than to state theconditions under which the fresh growth begins, and to point out whatare its manifestations. In doing so, moreover, we must be careful notto be carried away by words of our own making. Renaissance, Reformation, and Revolution are not separate things, capable of being isolated; theyare moments in the history of the human race which we find it convenientto name; while history itself is one and continuous, so that our utmostendeavors to regard some portion of it independently of the rest will bedefeated. 

A glance at the history of the preceding centuries shows that, after thedissolution of the fabric of the Roman Empire, there was no immediatepossibility of any intellectual revival. The barbarous races which haddeluged Europe had to absorb their barbarism: the fragments of Romancivilization had either to be destroyed or assimilated: the Germanicnations had to receive culture and religion from the people they hadsuperseded; the Church had to be created, and a new form given to theold idea of the Empire. It was further necessary that the modernnationalities should be defined, that the modern languages should beformed, that peace should be secured to some extent, and wealthaccumulated, before the indispensable conditions for a resurrection ofthe free spirit of humanity could exist. The first nation whichfulfilled these conditions was the first to inaugurate the new era. Thereason why Italy took the lead in the Renaissance was, that Italypossessed a language, a favorable climate, political freedom, andcommercial prosperity, at a time when other nations were stillsemi-barbarous. Where the human spirit had been buried in the decay ofthe Roman Empire, there it arose upon the ruins of that Empire; and thePapacy, called by Hobbes the ghost of the dead Roman Empire, seated, throned and crowned, upon the ashes thereof, to some extent bridged overthe gulf between the two periods. 

Keeping steadily in sight the truth that the real quality of theRenaissance was intellectual, that it was the emancipation of the reasonfor the modern world, we may inquire how feudalism was related to it. The mental condition of the Middle Ages was one of ignorant prostrationbefore the idols of the Church--dogma and authority and scholasticism. Again, the nations of Europe during these centuries were bound down bythe brute weight of material necessities. Without the power over theouter world which the physical sciences and useful arts communicate, without the ease of life which wealth and plenty secure, without thetraditions of a civilized past, emerging slowly from a state of utterrawness, each nation could barely do more than gain and keep a difficulthold upon existence. To depreciate the work achieved during the MiddleAges would be ridiculous. Yet we may point out that it was doneunconsciously--that it was a gradual and instinctive process ofbecoming. The reason, in one word, was not awake; the mind of man wasignorant of its own treasures and its own capacities. It is pathetic tothink of the mediæval students poring over a single ill-translatedsentence of Porphyry, endeavoring to extract from its clauses wholesystems of logical science, and torturing their brains about puzzleshardly less idle than the dilemma of Buridan's donkey, while all thetime, at Constantinople and at Seville, in Greek and Arabic, Plato andAristotle were alive but sleeping, awaiting only the call of theRenaissance to bid them speak with voice intelligible to the modernmind. It is no less pathetic to watch tide after tide of the ocean ofhumanity sweeping from all parts of Europe, to break in passionate butunavailing foam upon the shores of Palestine, whole nations laying lifedown for the chance of seeing the walls of Jerusalem, worshiping thesepulcher whence Christ had risen, loading their fleet with relics andwith cargoes of the sacred earth, while all the time within theirbreasts and brains the spirit of the Lord was with them, living butunrecognized, the spirit of freedom which erelong was destined torestore its birthright to the world. 

Meanwhile the middle age accomplished its own work. Slowly andobscurely, amid stupidity and ignorance, were being forged the nationsand the languages of Europe. Italy, France, Spain, England, Germany tookshape. The actors of the future drama acquired their several characters, and formed the tongues whereby their personalities should be expressed. The qualities which render modern society different from that of theancient world, were being impressed upon these nations by Christianity, by the Church, by chivalry, by feudal customs. Then came a furtherphase. After the nations had been molded, their monarchies and dynastieswere established. Feudalism passed by slow degrees into various forms ofmore or less defined autocracy. In Italy and Germany numerousprincipalities sprang into pre-eminence; and though the nation was notunited under one head, the monarchical principle was acknowledged. France and Spain submitted to a despotism, by right of which the kingcould say, 'L'Etat c'est moi. ' England developed her complicatedconstitution of popular right and royal prerogative. At the same timethe Latin Church underwent a similar process of transformation. ThePapacy became more autocratic. Like the king, the Pope began to say, 'L'Eglise c'est moi. ' This merging of the mediæval State and mediævalChurch in the personal supremacy of King and Pope may be termed thespecial feature of the last age of feudalism which preceded theRenaissance. It was thus that the necessary conditions and externalcircumstances were prepared. The organization of the five great nations, and the leveling of political and spiritual interests under politicaland spiritual despots, formed the prelude to that drama of liberty ofwhich the Renaissance was the first act, the Reformation the second, theRevolution the third, and which we nations of the present are stillevolving in the establishment of the democratic idea. 

Meanwhile, it must not be imagined that the Renaissance burst suddenlyupon the world in the fifteenth century without premonitory symptoms. Far from that: within the middle age itself, over and over again, thereason strove to break loose from its fetters. Abelard, in the twelfthcentury, tried to prove that the interminable dispute about entities andwords was founded on a misapprehension. Roger Bacon, at the beginning ofthe thirteenth century, anticipated modern science, and proclaimed thatman, by use of nature, can do all things. Joachim of Flora, intermediatebetween the two, drank one drop of the cup of prophecy offered to hislips, and cried that 'the Gospel of the Father was past, the Gospel ofthe Son was passing, the Gospel of the Spirit was to be. ' These threemen, each in his own way, the Frenchman as a logician, the Englishman asan analyst, the Italian as a mystic, divined the future but inevitableemancipation of the reason of mankind. Nor were there wanting signs, especially in Provence, that Aphrodite and Phoebus and the Graces wereready to resume their sway. The premature civilization of that favoredregion, so cruelly extinguished by the Church, was itself a reaction ofnature against the restrictions imposed by ecclesiastical discipline;while the songs of the wandering students, known under the title of_Carmina Burana_, indicate a revival of Pagan or pre-Christian feelingin the very stronghold of mediæval learning. We have, moreover, toremember the Cathari, the Paterini, the Fraticelli, the Albigenses, theHussites--heretics in whom the new light dimly shone, but who wereinstantly exterminated by the Church. We have to commemorate the vastconception of the Emperor Frederick II. , who strove to found a newsociety of humane culture in the South of Europe, and to anticipate theadvent of the spirit of modern tolerance. He, too, and all his race wereexterminated by the Papal jealousy. Truly we may say with Michelet thatthe Sibyl of the Renaissance kept offering her books in vain to feudalEurope. In vain because the time was not yet. The ideas projected thusearly on the modern world were immature and abortive, like thoseheadless trunks and zoophitic members of half-molded humanity which, inthe vision of Empedocles, preceded the birth of full-formed man. Thenations were not ready. Franciscans imprisoning Roger Bacon forventuring to examine what God had meant to keep secret; Dominicanspreaching crusades against the cultivated nobles of Toulouse; Popesstamping out the seed of enlightened Frederick; Benedictines erasing themasterpieces of classical literature to make way for their own litaniesand lurries, or selling pieces of the parchment for charms; a laitydevoted by superstition to saints and by sorcery to the devil; a clergysunk in sensual sloth or fevered with demoniac zeal: these still ruledthe intellectual destinies of Europe. Therefore the first anticipationsof the Renaissance were fragmentary and sterile. 

Then came a second period. Dante's poem, a work of conscious art, conceived in a modern spirit and written in a modern tongue, was thefirst true sign that Italy, the leader of the nations of the West, hadshaken off her sleep. Petrarch followed. His ideal, of antique cultureas the everlasting solace and the universal education of the human race, his lifelong effort to recover the classical harmony of thought andspeech, gave a direct impulse to one of the chief movements of theRenaissance--its passionate outgoing toward the ancient world. AfterPetrarch, Boccaccio opened yet another channel for the stream offreedom. His conception of human existence as joy to be accepted withthanksgiving, not as a gloomy error to be rectified by suffering, familiarized the fourteenth century with that form of semi-pagangladness which marked the real Renaissance. 

In Dante, Petrarch, and Boccaccio Italy recovered the consciousness ofintellectual liberty. What we call the Renaissance had not yet arrived;but their achievement rendered its appearance in due season certain. With Dante the genius of the modern world dared to stand alone and tocreate confidently after its own fashion. With Petrarch the same geniusreached forth across the gulf of darkness, resuming the tradition of asplendid past. With Boccaccio the same genius proclaimed the beauty ofthe world, the goodliness of youth and strength and love and life, unterrified by hell, unappalled by the shadow of impending death. 

It was now, at the beginning of the fourteenth century, when Italy hadlost indeed the heroic spirit which we admire in her Communes of thethirteenth, but had gained instead ease, wealth, magnificence, and thatrepose which springs from long prosperity, that the new age at lastbegan. Europe was, as it were, a fallow field, beneath which lay buriedthe civilization of the old world. Behind stretched the centuries ofmediævalism, intellectually barren and inert. Of the future there wereas yet but faint foreshadowings. Meanwhile, the force of the nations whowere destined to achieve the coming transformation was unexhausted;their physical and mental faculties were unimpaired. No ages ofenervating luxury, of intellectual endeavor, of life artificiallypreserved or ingeniously prolonged, had sapped the fiber of the men whowere about to inaugurate the modern world. Severely nurtured, unused todelicate living, these giants of the Renaissance were like boys in theircapacity for endurance, their inordinate appetite for enjoyment. Nogenerations, hungry, sickly, effete, critical, disillusioned, trod themdown. Ennui and the fatigue that springs from skepticism, the despair ofthwarted effort, were unknown. Their fresh and unperverted sensesrendered them keenly alive to what was beautiful and natural. Theyyearned for magnificence, and instinctively comprehended splendor. Atthe same time the period of satiety was still far off. Everything seemedpossible to their young energy; nor had a single pleasure palled upontheir appetite. Born, as it were, at the moment when desires andfaculties are evenly balanced, when the perceptions are not blunted northe senses cloyed, opening their eyes for the first time on a world ofwonder, these men of the Renaissance enjoyed what we may term the firsttranscendent springtide of the modern world. Nothing is more remarkablethan the fullness of the life that throbbed in them. Natures rich in allcapacities and endowed with every kind of sensibility were frequent. Norwas there any limit to the play of personality in action. We may applyto them what Mr. Browning has written of Sordello's temperament:--

 A footfall there Suffices to upturn to the warm air Half germinating spices, mere decay Produces richer life, and day by day New pollen on the lily-petal grows, And still more labyrinthine buds the rose. 

During the Middle Ages man had lived enveloped in a cowl. He had notseen the beauty of the world or had seen it only to cross himself, andturn aside and tell his beads and pray. Like S. Bernard traveling alongthe shores of the Lake Leman, and noticing neither the azure of thewaters, nor the luxuriance of the vines, nor the radiance of themountains with their robe of sun and snow, but bending athought-burdened forehead over the neck of his mule; even like thismonk, humanity had passed, a careful pilgrim, intent on the terrors ofsin, death, and judgment, along the highways of the world, and hadscarcely known that they were sightworthy, or that life is a blessing. Beauty is a snare, pleasure a sin, the world a fleeting show, manfallen and lost, death the only certainty, judgment inevitable, helleverlasting, heaven hard to win; ignorance is acceptable to God as aproof of faith and submission; abstinence and mortification are the onlysafe rules of life: these were the fixed ideas of the ascetic mediævalChurch. The Renaissance shattered and destroyed them, rending the thickveil which they had drawn between the mind of man and the outer world, and flashing the light of reality upon the darkened places of his ownnature. For the mystic teaching of the Church was substituted culture inthe classical humanities; a new ideal was established, whereby manstrove to make himself the monarch of the globe on which it is hisprivilege as well as destiny to live. The Renaissance was the liberationof the reason from a dungeon, the double discovery of the outer and theinner world. 

An external event determined the direction which this outburst of thespirit of freedom should take. This was the contact of the modern withthe ancient mind which followed upon what is called the Revival ofLearning. The fall of the Greek Empire in 1453, while it signalized theextinction of the old order, gave an impulse to the now accumulatedforces of the new. A belief in the identity of the human spirit underall previous manifestations and in its uninterrupted continuity wasgenerated. Men found that in classical as well as Biblical antiquityexisted an ideal of human life, both moral and intellectual, by whichthey might profit in the present. The modern genius felt confidence inits own energies when it learned what the ancients had achieved. Theguesses of the ancients stimulated the exertions of the moderns. Thewhole world's history seemed once more to be one. 

The great achievements of the Renaissance were the discovery of theworld and the discovery of man. [1] Under these two formulæ may beclassified all the phenomena which properly belong to this period. Thediscovery of the world divides itself into two branches--the explorationof the globe, and that systematic exploration of the universe which isin fact what we call Science. Columbus made known America in 1492; thePortuguese rounded the Cape in 1497; Copernicus explained the solarsystem in 1507. It is not necessary to add anything to this plainstatement; for, in contact with facts of such momentous import, to avoidwhat seems like commonplace reflection would be difficult. Yet it isonly when we contrast the ten centuries which preceded these dates withthe four centuries which have ensued, that we can estimate the magnitudeof that Renaissance movement by means of which a new hemisphere has beenadded to civilization. In like manner, it is worth while to pause amoment and consider what is implied in the substitution of theCopernican for the Ptolemaic system. The world, regarded in old timesas the center of all things, the apple of God's eye, for the sake ofwhich were created sun and moon and stars, suddenly was found to be oneof the many balls that roll round a giant sphere of light and heat, which is itself but one among innumerable suns attended each by a_cortège_ of planets, and scattered, how we know not, through infinity. What has become of that brazen seat of the old gods, that Paradise towhich an ascending Deity might be caught up through clouds, and hiddenfor a moment from the eyes of his disciples. The demonstration of thesimplest truths of astronomy destroyed at a blow the legends that weremost significant to the early Christians by annihilating theirsymbolism. Well might the Church persecute Galileo for his proof of theworld's mobility. Instinctively she perceived that in this oneproposition was involved the principle of hostility to her mostcherished conceptions, to the very core of her mythology. Science wasborn, and the warfare between scientific positivism and religiousmetaphysic was declared. Henceforth God could not be worshiped under theforms and idols of a sacerdotal fancy; a new meaning had been given tothe words: 'God is a Spirit, and they that worship Him must worship Himin spirit and in truth. ' The reason of man was at last able to study thescheme of the universe, of which he is a part, and to ascertain theactual laws by which it is governed. Three centuries and a half haveelapsed since Copernicus revolutionized astronomy. It is only byreflecting on the mass of knowledge we have since acquired, knowledgenot only infinitely curious but also incalculably useful in itsapplication to the arts of life, and then considering how much ground ofthis kind was acquired in the ten centuries which preceded theRenaissance, that we are at all able to estimate the expansive forcewhich was then generated. Science, rescued from the hand of astrology, geomancy, alchemy, began her real life with the Renaissance. Since then, as far as to the present moment she has never ceased to grow. Progressive and durable, Science may be called the first-born of thespirit of the modern world. 

 [1] It is to Michelet that we owe these formulæ, which have passed into the language of history. 

Thus by the discovery of the world is meant on the one hand theappropriation by civilized humanity of all corners of the habitableglobe, and on the other the conquest by Science of all that we now knowabout the nature of the universe. In the discovery of man, again, it ispossible to trace a twofold process. Man in his temporal relations, illustrated by Pagan antiquity, and man in his spiritual relations, illustrated by Biblical antiquity; these are the two regions, at firstapparently distinct, afterwards found to be interpenetrative, which thecritical and inquisitive genius of the Renaissance opened forinvestigation. In the former of these regions we find two agencies atwork, art and scholarship. During the Middle Ages the plastic arts, likephilosophy, had degenerated into barren and meaningless scholasticism--afrigid reproduction of lifeless forms copied technically and withoutinspiration from debased patterns. Pictures became symbolically connectedwith the religious feelings of the people, formulæ from which to deviatewould be impious in the artist and confusing to the worshiper. Superstitious reverence bound the painter to copy the almond eyes andstiff joints of the saints whom he had adored from infancy; and, evenhad it been otherwise, he lacked the skill to imitate the natural formshe saw around him. But with the dawning of the Renaissance, a new spiritin the arts arose. Men began to conceive that the human body is noble initself and worthy of patient study. The object of the artist then becameto unite devotional feeling and respect for the sacred legend with theutmost beauty and the utmost fidelity of delineation. He studied fromthe nude; he drew the body in every posture; he composed drapery, invented attitudes, and adapted the action of his figures and theexpression of his faces to the subject he had chosen. In a word, hehumanized the altar-pieces and the cloister-frescoes upon which heworked. In this way the painters rose above the ancient symbols, andbrought heaven down to earth. By drawing Madonna and her son like livinghuman beings, by dramatizing the Christian history, they silentlysubstituted the love of beauty and the interests of actual life for theprinciples of the Church. The saint or angel became an occasion for thedisplay of physical perfection, and to introduce 'un bel corpo ignudo'into the composition was of more moment to them than to represent themacerations of the Magdalen. Men thus learned to look beyond therelique and the host, and to forget the dogma in the lovely forms whichgave it expression. Finally, when the classics came to aid this work ofprogress, a new world of thought and fancy, divinely charming, whollyhuman, was revealed to their astonished eyes. Thus art, which had begunby humanizing the legends of the Church, diverted the attention of itsstudents from the legend to the work of beauty, and lastly, severingitself from the religious tradition, became the exponent of the majestyand splendor of the human body. This final emancipation of art fromecclesiastical trammels culminated in the great age of Italian painting. Gazing at Michael Angelo's prophets in the Sistine Chapel, we are indeedin contact with ideas originally religious. But the treatment of theseideas is purely, broadly human, on a level with that of the sculpture ofPheidias. Titian's Virgin received into Heaven, soaring midway betweenthe archangel who descends to crown her and the apostles who yearn tofollow her, is far less a Madonna Assunta than the apotheosis ofhumanity conceived as a radiant mother. Throughout the picture there isnothing ascetic, nothing mystic, nothing devotional. Nor did the art ofthe Renaissance stop here. It went further, and plunged into Paganism. Sculptors and painters combined with architects to cut the arts loosefrom their connection with the Church by introducing a spirit and asentiment alien to Christianity. 

Through the instrumentality of art, and of all the ideas which artintroduced into daily life, the Renaissance wrought for the modern worlda real resurrection of the body, which, since the destruction of antiquecivilization, had lain swathed up in hair-shirts and cerements withinthe tomb of the mediæval cloister. It was scholarship which revealed tomen the wealth of their own minds, the dignity of human thought, thevalue of human speculation, the importance of human life regarded as athing apart from religious rules and dogmas. During the Middle Ages afew students had possessed the poems of Virgil and the prose ofBoethius--and Virgil at Mantua, Boethius at Pavia, had actually beenhonored as saints--together with fragments of Lucan, Ovid, Statius, Juvenal, Cicero, and Horace. The Renaissance opened to the whole readingpublic the treasure-houses of Greek and Latin literature. At the sametime the Bible in its original tongues was rediscovered. Mines ofOriental learning were laid bare for the students of the Jewish andArabic traditions. The Aryan and Semitic revelations were for the firsttime subjected to something like a critical comparison. With unerringinstinct the men of the Renaissance named the voluminous subject-matterof scholarship 'Litteræ Humaniores, '--the more human literature, or theliterature that humanizes. 

There are three stages in the history of scholarship during theRenaissance. The first is the age of passionate desire; Petrarch poringover a Homer he could not understand, and Boccaccio in his maturitylearning Greek, in order that he might drink from the well-head ofpoetic inspiration, are the heroes of this period. They inspired theItalians with a thirst for antique culture. Next comes the age ofacquisition and of libraries. Nicholas V. , who founded the VaticanLibrary in 1453, Cosimo de Medici, who began the Medicean Collection alittle earlier, and Poggio Bracciolini, who ransacked all the cities andconvents of Europe for manuscripts, together with the teachers of Greek, who in the first half of the fifteenth century escaped fromConstantinople with precious freights of classic literature, are theheroes of this second period. It was an age of accumulation, ofuncritical and indiscriminate enthusiasm. Manuscripts were worshiped bythese men, just as the reliques of Holy Land had been adored by theirgreat-grandfathers. The eagerness of the Crusades was revived in thisquest of the Holy Grail of ancient knowledge. Waifs and strays of Paganauthors were valued like precious gems, reveled in like odoriferous andgorgeous flowers, consulted like oracles of God, gazed on like the eyesof a beloved mistress. The good, the bad, and the indifferent receivedan almost equal homage. Criticism had not yet begun. The world was benton gathering up its treasures, frantically bewailing the lost books ofLivy, the lost songs of Sappho--absorbing to intoxication the strongwine of multitudinous thoughts and passions that kept pouring from thoselong-buried amphora of inspiration. What is most remarkable about thisage of scholarship is the enthusiasm which pervaded all classes inItaly for antique culture. Popes and princes, captains of adventure andpeasants, noble ladies and the leaders of the demi-monde, alike becamescholars. There is a story told by Infessura which illustrates thetemper of the times with singular felicity. On the 18th of April 1485 areport circulated in Rome that some Lombard workmen had discovered aRoman sarcophagus while digging on the Appian Way. It was a marble tomb, engraved with the inscription, 'Julia, Daughter of Claudius, ' and insidethe coffer lay the body of a most beautiful girl of fifteen years, preserved by precious unguents from corruption and the injury of time. The bloom of youth was still upon her cheeks and lips; her eyes andmouth were half open; her long hair floated round her shoulders. She wasinstantly removed, so goes the legend, to the Capitol; and then began aprocession of pilgrims from all the quarters of Rome to gaze upon thissaint of the old Pagan world. In the eyes of those enthusiasticworshipers, her beauty was beyond imagination or description: she wasfar fairer than any woman of the modern age could hope to be. At lastInnocent VIII. Feared lest the orthodox faith should suffer by this newcult of a heathen corpse. Julia was buried secretly and at night by hisdirection, and naught remained in the Capitol but her empty marblecoffin. The tale, as told by Infessura, is repeated in Matarazzo and inNantiporto with slight variations. One says that the girl's hair wasyellow, another that it was of the glossiest black. What foundation forthe legend may really have existed need not here be questioned. Let usrather use the mythus as a parable of the ecstatic devotion whichprompted the men of that age to discover a form of unimaginable beautyin the tomb of the classic world. [1]

 [1] The most remarkable document regarding the body of Julia which has yet been published is a Latin letter, written by Bartholomæus Fontius to his friend Franciscus Saxethus, minutely describing her, with details which appear to prove that he had not only seen but handled the corpse. It is printed in Janitschek, _Die Gesellschaft der R. In It. _: Stuttgart, 1879, p. 120. 

Then came the third age of scholarship--the age of the critics, philologers, and printers. What had been collected by Poggio and Aurispahad now to be explained by Ficino, Poliziano, and Erasmus. They begantheir task by digesting and arranging the contents of the libraries. There were then no short cuts to learning, no comprehensive lexicons, nodictionaries of antiquities, no carefully prepared thesauri of mythologyand history. Each student had to hold in his brain the whole mass ofclassical erudition. The text and the canon of Homer, Plato, Aristotle, and the tragedians had to be decided. Greek type had to be struck. Florence, Venice, Basle, Lyons, and Paris groaned with printing presses. The Aldi, the Stephani, and Froben toiled by night and day, employingscores of scholars, men of supreme devotion and of mighty brain, whosework it was to ascertain the right reading of sentences, to accentuate, to punctuate, to commit to the press, and to place beyond the reach ofmonkish hatred or of envious time that everlasting solace of humanitywhich exists in the classics. All subsequent achievements in the fieldof scholarship sink into insignificance beside the labors of these men, who needed genius, enthusiasm, and the sympathy of Europe for theaccomplishment of their titanic task. Virgil was printed in 1470, Homerin 1488, Aristotle in 1498, Plato in 1513. They then became theinalienable heritage of mankind. But what vigils, what anxiousexpenditure of thought, what agonies of doubt and expectation, wereendured by those heroes of humanizing scholarship, whom we are apt tothink of merely as pedants! Which of us now warms and thrills withemotion at hearing the name of Aldus Manutius, or of Henricus Stephanus, or of Johannes Froben? Yet this we surely ought to do; for to them weowe in a great measure the freedom of our spirit, our stores ofintellectual enjoyment, our command of the past, our certainty of thefuture of human culture. 

This third age in the history of the Renaissance Scholarship may be saidto have reached its climax in Erasmus; for by this time Italy had handedon the torch of learning to the northern nations. The publication of his"Adagia" in 1500, marks the advent of a more critical and selectivespirit, which from that date onward has been gradually gaining strengthin the modern mind. Criticism, in the true sense of accurate testing andsifting, is one of the points which distinguish the moderns from theancients; and criticism was developed by the process of assimilation, comparison, and appropriation, which was necessary in the growth ofscholarship. The ultimate effect of this recovery of classic literaturewas, once and for all, to liberate the intellect. The modern world wasbrought into close contact with the free virility of the ancient world, and emancipated from the thralldom of unproved traditions. The force tojudge and the desire to create were generated. The immediate result inthe sixteenth century was an abrupt secession of the learned, not merelyfrom monasticism, but also from the true spirit of Christianity. Theminds of the Italians assimilated Paganism. In their hatred of mediævalignorance, in their loathing of cowled and cloistered fools, they flewto an extreme, and affected the manner of an irrevocable past. Thisextravagance led of necessity to a reaction--in the north to Puritanism, in the south to what has been termed the Counter-Reformation effectedunder Spanish influences in the Latin Church. But Christianity, thatmost precious possession of the modern world, was never seriouslyimperiled by the classical enthusiasm of the Renaissance; nor, on theother hand, was the progressive emancipation of the reason materiallyretarded by the reaction it produced. 

The transition at this point to the third branch in the discovery ofman, the revelation to the consciousness of its own spiritual freedom, is natural. Not only did scholarship restore the classics and encourageliterary criticism; it also restored the text of the Bible, andencouraged theological criticism. In the wake of theological freedomfollowed a free philosophy, no longer subject to the dogmas of theChurch. To purge the Christian faith from false conceptions, to liberatethe conscience from the tyranny of priests, and to interpret religion tothe reason has been the work of the last centuries; nor is this work asyet by any means accomplished. On the one side Descartes and Bacon, Spinoza and Locke, are sons of the Renaissance, champions of new-foundphilosophical freedom; on the other side, Luther is a son of theRenaissance, the herald of new-found religious freedom. The wholemovement of the Reformation is a phase in that accelerated action of themodern mind which at its commencement we call the Renaissance. It is amistake to regard the Reformation as an isolated phenomenon or as a mereeffort to restore the Church to purity. The Reformation exhibits in theregion of religious thought and national politics what the Renaissancedisplays in the sphere of culture, art, and science--the recoveredenergy and freedom of the reason. We are too apt to treat of history inparcels, and to attempt to draw lessons from detached chapters in thebiography of the human race. To observe the connection between theseveral stages of a progressive movement of the human spirit, and torecognize that the forces at work are still active, is the truephilosophy of history. 

The Reformation, like the revival of science and of culture, had itsmediæval anticipations and foreshadowings. The heretics whom the Churchsuccessfully combated in North Italy, France, and Bohemia were theprecursors of Luther. The scholars prepared the way in the fifteenthcentury. Teachers of Hebrew, founders of Hebrew type--Reuchlin inGermany, Aleander in Paris, Von Hutten as a pamphleteer, and Erasmus asa humanist--contribute each a definite momentum. Luther, for his part, incarnates the spirit of revolt against tyrannical authority, urges thenecessity of a return to the essential truth of Christianity, asdistinguished from the idols of the Church, and asserts the right of theindividual to judge, interpret, criticise, and construct opinion forhimself. The veil which the Church had interposed between the human souland God was broken down. The freedom of the conscience was established. Thus the principles involved in what we call the Reformation weremomentous. Connected on the one side with scholarship and the study oftexts, it opened the path for modern biblical criticism. Connected onthe other side with the intolerance of mere authority it led to what hassince been named rationalism--the attempt to reconcile the religioustradition with the reason, and to define the logical ideas that underliethe conceptions of the popular religious consciousness. Again, bypromulgating the doctrine of personal freedom, and by connecting itselfwith national politics, the reformation was linked historically to therevolution. It was the Puritan Church in England stimulated by thepatriotism of the Dutch Protestants, which established ourconstitutional liberty, and introduced in America the general principleof the equality of men. This high political abstraction, latent inChristianity, evolved by criticism, and promulgated as a gospel in thesecond half of the last century, was externalized in the FrenchRevolution. The work that yet remains to be accomplished for the modernworld is the organization of society in harmony with democraticprinciples. 

Thus what the word Renaissance really means is new birth to liberty--thespirit of mankind recovering consciousness and the power ofself-determination, recognizing the beauty of the outer world, and ofthe body through art, liberating the reason in science and theconscience in religion, restoring culture to the intelligence, andestablishing the principle of political freedom. The Church was theschoolmaster of the Middle Ages. Culture was the humanizing and refininginfluence of the Renaissance. The problem for the present and the futureis how through education to render knowledge accessible to all--to breakdown that barrier which in the Middle Ages was set between clerk andlayman, and which in the intermediate period has arisen between theintelligent and ignorant classes. Whether the Utopia of a modern world, in which all men shall enjoy the same social, political, andintellectual advantages, be realized or not, we cannot doubt that thewhole movement of humanity from the Renaissance onward has tended inthis direction. To destroy the distinctions, mental and physical, whichnature raises between individuals, and which constitute an actualhierarchy, will always be impossible. Yet it may happen that in thefuture no civilized man will lack the opportunity of being physicallyand mentally the best that God has made him. 

It remains to speak of the instruments and mechanical inventions whichaided the emancipation of the spirit in the modern age. Discovered overand over again, and offered at intervals to the human race at varioustimes and on divers soils, no effective use was made of these materialresources until the fifteenth century. The compass, discovered accordingto tradition by Gioja of Naples in 1302, was employed by Columbus forthe voyage to America in 1492. The telescope, known to the Arabians inthe Middle Ages, and described by Roger Bacon in 1250, helped Copernicusto prove the revolution of the earth in 1530, and Galileo tosubstantiate his theory of the planetary system. Printing, afternumerous useless revelations to the world of its resources, became anart in 1438; and paper, which had long been known to the Chinese, wasfirst made of cotton in Europe about 1000, and of rags in 1319. Gunpowder entered into use about 1320. As employed by the Genius of theRenaissance, each one of these inventions became a lever by means ofwhich to move the world. Gunpowder revolutionized the art of war. Thefeudal castle, the armor of the Knight and his battle-horse, the prowessof one man against a hundred, and the pride of aristocratic cavalrytrampling upon ill-armed militia, were annihilated by the flashes of thecanon. Courage became more a moral than a physical quality. The victorywas delivered to the brain of the general. Printing has established, asindestructible, all knowledge, and disseminated, as the common propertyof every one, all thought; while paper has made the work of printingcheap. Such reflections as these, however, are trite, and must occur toevery mind. It is far more to the purpose to repeat that not theinventions, but the intelligence that used them, the consciouscalculating spirit of the modern world, should rivet our attention whenwe direct it to the phenomena of the Renaissance. 

In the work of the Renaissance all the great nations of Europe shared. But it must never be forgotten that as a matter of history the trueRenaissance began in Italy. It was there that the essential qualitieswhich distinguish the modern from the ancient and the mediæval worldwere developed. Italy created that new spiritual atmosphere of cultureand of intellectual freedom which has been the life-breath of theEuropean races. As the Jews are called the chosen and peculiar people ofdivine revelation, so may the Italians be called the chosen and peculiarvessels of the prophecy of the Renaissance. In art, in scholarship, inscience, in the mediation between antique culture and the modernintellect, they took the lead, handing to Germany and France andEngland the restored humanities complete. Spain and England have sincedone more for the exploration and colonization of the world. Germanyachieved the labor of the Reformation almost single-handed. France hascollected, centralized, and diffused intelligence with irresistibleenergy. But if we return to the first origins of the Renaissance, wefind that, at a time when the rest of Europe was inert, Italy hadalready begun to organize the various elements of the modern spirit, andto set the fashion whereby the other great nations should learn andlive. 

CHAPTER II. 

ITALIAN HISTORY. 

The special Difficulties of this Subject--Apparent Confusion--Want ofleading Motive--The Papacy--The Empire--The Republics--The Despots--ThePeople--The Dismemberment of Italy--Two main Topics--The Rise of theCommunes--Gothic Kingdom--Lombards--Franks--Germans--The Bishops--TheConsuls--The Podestàs--Civil Wars--Despots--The Balance of Power--TheFive Italian States--The Italians fail to achieve National Unity--TheCauses of this Failure--Conditions under which it might have beenachieved--A Republic--A Kingdom--A Confederation--A Tyranny--The Partplayed by the Papacy. 

After a first glance into Italian history the student recoilsas from a chaos of inscrutable confusion. To fix the moment oftransition from ancient to modern civilization seems impossible. Thereis no formation of a new people, as in the case of Germany or France orEngland, to serve as starting-point. Differ as the Italian races do intheir original type; Gauls, Ligurians, Etruscans, Umbrians, Latins, Iapygians, Greeks have been fused together beneath the stress of Romanrule into a nation that survives political mutations and the disastersof barbarian invasions. Goths, Lombards, and Franks blend successivelywith the masses of this complex population, and lose the outlines oftheir several personalities. The western Empire melts imperceptiblyaway. The Roman Church grows no less imperceptibly, and forms the HolyRoman Empire as the equivalent of its own spiritual greatness in thesphere of secular authority. These two institutions, the crowningmonuments of Italian creative genius, dominate the Middle Ages, powerfulas facts, but still more powerful as ideas. Yet neither of them controlsthe evolution of Italy in the same sense as France was controlled by themonarchical, and Germany by the federative, principle. The forces of thenation, divided and swayed from side to side by this commanding dualism, escaped both influences in so far as either Pope or Emperor strove tomold them into unity. Meanwhile the domination of Byzantine Greeks inthe southern provinces, the kingdom of the Goths at Ravenna, the kingdomof the Lombards and Franks at Pavia, the incursions of Huns andSaracens, the kingdom of the Normans at Palermo, formed but accidentsand moments in a national development which owed important modificationsto each successive episode, but was not finally determined by any ofthem. When the Communes emerge into prominence, shaking off thesupremacy of the Greeks in the South, vindicating their libertiesagainst the Empire in the North, jealously guarding their independencefrom Papal encroachment in the center, they have already assumed shapesof marked distinctness and bewildering diversity. Venice, Milan, Genoa, Florence, Bologna, Siena, Perugia, Amalfi, Lucca, Pisa, to mention onlya few of the more notable, are indiscriminately called Republics. Yetthey differ in their internal type no less than in external conditions. Each wears from the first and preserves a physiognomy that justifies ourthinking and speaking of the town as an incarnate entity. The cities ofItaly, down to the very smallest, bear the attributes of individuals. The mutual attractions and repulsions that presided over their growthhave given them specific qualities which they will never lose, whichwill be reflected in their architecture, in their customs, in theirlanguage, in their policy, as well as in the institutions of theirgovernment. We think of them involuntarily as persons, and reserve forthem epithets that mark the permanence of their distinctive characters. To treat of them collectively is almost impossible. Each has its ownbiography, and plays a part of consequence in the great drama of thenation. Accordingly the study of Italian politics, Italian literature, Italian art, is really not the study of one national genius, but of awhole family of cognate geniuses, grouped together, conscious ofaffinity, obeying the same general conditions, but issuing in markedlydivergent characteristics. Democracies, oligarchies, aristocraciesspring into being by laws of natural selection within the limits of asingle province. Every municipality has a separate nomenclature for itsmagistracies, a somewhat different method of distributing administrativefunctions. In one place there is a Doge appointed for life; in anotherthe government is put into commission among officers elected for aperiod of months. Here we find a Patrician, a Senator, a Tribune; thereConsuls, Rectors, Priors, Ancients, Buonuomini, Conservatori. At oneperiod and in one city the Podestà seems paramount; across the border aCaptain of the People or a Gonfaloniere di Giustizia is supreme. Vicarsof the Empire, Exarchs, Catapans, Rectors for the Church, Legates, Commissaries, succeed each other with dazzling rapidity. Councils aremultiplied and called by names that have their origin and meaning buriedin the dust of archæology. Consigli del Popolo, Credenza, Consiglio delComune, Senato, Gran Consiglio, Pratiche, Parlamenti, Monti, Consigliode' Savi, Arti, Parte Guelfa, Consigli di Dieci, di Tre, I Nove, GliOtto, I Cento--such are a few of the titles chosen at random from theconstitutional records of different localities. 

Not one is insignificant. Not one but indicates some moment ofimportance in the social evolution of the state. Not one but speaks ofcivil strife, whereby the burgh in question struggled into individualityand defined itself against its neighbor. Like fossils, in geologicalstrata, these names survive long after their old uses have beenforgotten, to guide the explorer in his reconstruction of a buried past. While one town appears to respect the feudal lordship of great families, another pronounces nobility to be a crime, and forces on its citizensthe reality or the pretense of labor. Some recognize the supremacy ofecclesiastics. Others, like Venice, resist the least encroachment of theChurch, and stand aloof from Roman Christianity in jealous isolation. The interests of one class are maritime, of another military, of a thirdindustrial, of a fourth financial, of a fifth educational. Amalfi, Pisa, Genoa, and Venice depend for power upon their fleets and colonies; thelittle cities of Romagna and the March supply the Captains of adventurewith recruits; Florence and Lucca live by manufacture; Milan by banking;Bologna, Padua, Vicenza, owe their wealth to students attracted by theiruniversities. Foreign alliances or geographical affinities connect onecenter with the Empire of the East, a second with France, a third withSpain. The North is overshadowed by Germany; the South is disquieted byIslam. The types thus formed and thus discriminated are vital, andpersist for centuries with the tenacity of physical growths. Eachdifferentiation owes its origin to causes deeply rooted in the locality. The freedom and apparent waywardness of nature, when she sets about toform crystals of varying shapes and colors, that shall last and bear herstamp for ever, have governed their uprising and their progress tomaturity. At the same time they exhibit the keen jealousies and mutualhatreds of rival families in the animal kingdom. Pisa destroys Amalfi;Genoa, Pisa; Venice, Genoa; with ruthless and remorseless egotism in theconflict of commercial interests. Florence enslaves Pisa because sheneeds a way to the sea. Siena and Perugia, upon their inland altitudes, consume themselves in brilliant but unavailing efforts to expand. Milanengulfs the lesser towns of Lombardy. Verona absorbs Padua and Treviso. Venice extends dominion over the Friuli and the Veronese conquests. Strife and covetousness reign from the Alps to the Ionian Sea. But it isa strife of living energies, the covetousness of impassioned andpuissant units. Italy as a whole is almost invisible to the student byreason of the many-sided, combative, self-centered crowd of numberlessItalian communities. Proximity foments hatred and stimulates hostility. Fiesole looks down and threatens Florence. Florence returns frown forfrown, and does not rest till she has made her neighbor of the hills aslave. Perugia and Assissi turn the Umbrian plain into a wilderness ofwolves by their recurrent warfare. Scowling at one another across theValdichiana, Perugia rears a tower against Chiusi, and Chiusi builds herBecca Questa in responsive menace. The tiniest burgh upon the Arnoreceives from Dante, the poet of this internecine strife and fiercetown-rivalry, its stigma of immortalizing satire and insulting epithet, for no apparent reason but that its dwellers dare to drink of the samewater and to breathe the same air as Florence. It would seem as thoughthe most ancient furies of antagonistic races, enchained and suspendedfor centuries by the magic of Rome, had been unloosed; as though theindigenous populations of Italy, tamed by antique culture, werereverting to their primal instincts, with all the discords and divisionsintroduced by the military system of the Lombards, the feudalism of theFranks, the alien institutions of the Germans, superadded toexasperate the passions of a nation blindly struggling against obstaclesthat block the channel of continuous progress. Nor is this the end ofthe perplexity. Not only are the cities at war with one another, butthey are plunged in ceaseless strife within the circuit of theirramparts. The people with the nobles, the burghs with the castles, theplebeians with the burgher aristocracy, the men of commerce with the menof arms and ancient lineage, Guelfs and Ghibellines, clash together inpersistent fury. One half the city expels the other half. The exilesroam abroad, cement alliances, and return to extirpate their conquerors. Fresh proscriptions and new expulsions follow. Again alliances are madeand revolutions accomplished, till the ancient feuds of the towns arecrossed, recrossed, and tangled in a web of madness that defiesanalysis. Through the medley of quarreling, divided, subdivided, andintertwisted factions, ride Emperors followed by their bands of knights, appearing for a season on vain quests, and withdrawing after they havetenfold confounded the confusion. Papal Legates drown the cities of theChurch in blood, preach crusades, fulminate interdictions, rouseinsurrections in the States that own allegiance to the Empire. Monksstir republican revivals in old cities that have lost their liberties, or assemble the populations of crime-maddened districts in aimlesscomedies of piety and false pacification, or lead them barefooted andintoxicated with shrill cries of 'Mercy' over plain and mountain. Princes of France, Kings of Bohemia and Hungary, march and countermarchfrom north to south and back again, form leagues, establish realms, headconfederations, which melt like shapes we form from clouds to nothing. At one time the Pope and Emperor use Italy as the arena of a deadlyduel, drawing the congregated forces of the nation into their dispute. At another they join hands to divide the spoil of ruined provinces. Great generals with armies at their backs start into being from apparentnothingness, dispute the sovereignty of Italy in bloodless battles, found ephemeral dynasties, and pass away like mists upon a mountain-sidebeneath a puff of wind. Conflict, ruin, desolation, anarchy are everyielding place to concord, restoration, peace, prosperity, and thenrecurring with a mighty flood of violence. Construction, destruction, and reconstruction play their part in crises that have to be counted bythe thousands. 

In the mean time, from this hurricane of disorder rises the clear idealof the national genius. Italy becomes self-conscious and attains thespiritual primacy of modern Europe. Art, Learning, Literature, State-craft, Philosophy, Science build a sacred and inviolable city ofthe soul amid the tumult of seven thousand revolutions, the dust andcrash of falling cities, the tramplings of recurrent invasions, theinfamies and outrages of tyrants and marauders who oppress the land. Unshaken by the storms that rage around it, this refuge of the spirit, raised by Italian poets, thinkers, artists, scholars, and discoverers, grows unceasingly in bulk and strength, until the younger nations taketheir place beneath its ample dome. Then, while yet the thing of wonderand of beauty stands in fresh perfection, at that supreme moment whenItaly is tranquil and sufficient to fulfill the noblest mission for theworld, we find her crushed and trampled under foot. Her tempestuous butsplendid story closes in the calm of tyranny imposed by Spain. 

Over this vertiginous abyss of history, where the memories of antiquecivilization blend with the growing impulses of modern life in anuninterrupted sequence of national consciousness; through thismany-chambered laboratory of conflicting principles, where the ideals ofthe Middle Age are shaped, and laws are framed for Europe; across thiswonder-land of waning and of waxing culture, where Goths, Greeks, Lombards, Franks, and Normans come to form themselves by contact withthe ever-living soul of Rome; where Frenchmen, Spaniards, Swiss, andGermans at a later period battle for the richest prize in Europe, andlearn by conquest from the conquered to be men; how shall we guide ourcourse? If we follow the fortunes of the Church, and make the Papacy thethread on which the history of Italy shall hang, we gain the advantageof basing our narrative upon the most vital and continuous member of thebody politic. But we are soon forced to lose sight of the Italians inthe crowd of other Christian races. The history of the Church iscosmopolitan. The Sphere of the Papacy extends in all directions aroundItaly taken as a local center. Its influence, moreover, was invariablyone of discord rather than of harmony within the boundaries of thepeninsula. If we take the Empire as our standing-ground, we have towrite the annals of a sustained struggle, in the course of which theItalian cities were successful, when they reduced the Emperor to thecondition of an absentee with merely nominal privileges. After FrederickII. The Empire played no important part in Italy until its rights werereasserted by Charles V. Upon the platform of modern politics. A powerso external to the true life of the nation, so successfully resisted, so impotent to control the development of the Italians, cannot be chosenas the central point of their history. If we elect the Republics, we aremet with another class of difficulties. The historian who makes theCommune his unit, who confines attention to the gradual development, reciprocal animosities, and final decadence of the republics, can hardlydo justice to the Kingdom of the Two Sicilies and the Papacy, whichoccupy no less than half the country. Again, the great age of theRenaissance, when all the free burghs accepted the rule of despots, andwhen the genius of the Italians culminated, is for him a period ofdownfall and degradation. Besides, he leaves the history of the Italianpeople before the starting-point of the Republics unexplained. He has, at the close of their career, to account for the reason why theseCommunes, so powerful in self-development, so intelligent, so wealthy, and so capable of playing off the Pope against the Empire, failed tomaintain their independence. In other words he selects one phase ofItalian evolution, and writes a narrative that cannot but be partial. Ifwe make the Despots our main point, we repeat the same error in a worseform. The Despotisms imply the Communes as their predecessors. Each andall of them grew up and flourished on the soil of decadent or tiredRepublics. Though they are all-important at one period of Italianhistory--the period of the present work--they do but form an episode inthe great epic of the nation. He who attempts a general history of Italyfrom the point of view of the despotisms, is taking a single scene forthe whole drama. Finally we might prefer the people--that people, instinctively and persistently faithful to Roman traditions, whichabsorbed into itself the successive hordes of barbarian invaders, civilized them, and adopted them as men of Italy; that people whichdestroyed the kingdoms of the Goths and Lombards humbled the Empire atLegnano, and evolved the Communes; that people which resisted alienfeudalism, and spent its prime upon eradicating every trace of therepugnant system from its midst; that people which finally attained tothe consciousness of national unity by the recovery of scholarship andculture under the dominion of despotic princes. This people is Italy. But the documents that should throw light upon the early annals of thepeople are deficient. It does not appear upon the scene before the reignof Otho I. Nor does it become supreme till after the Peace of Constance. Its biography is bound up with that of the republics and the despots. Before the date of their ascendency we have to deal with Bishops ofRome, Emperors of the East and West, Exarchs and Kings of Italy, thefeudal Lords of the Marches, the Dukes and Counts of Lombard andFrankish rulers. Through that long period of incubation, when Italyfreed herself from dependence upon Byzantium, created the Papacy andformed the second Roman Empire, the people exists only as a spiritresident in Roman towns and fostered by the Church, which effectuallyrepelled all attempts at monarchical unity, playing the Lombards offagainst the Goths, the Franks against the Lombards, the Normans againstthe Greeks, merging the Italian Kingdom in the Empire when it becameGerman, and resisting the Empire of its own creation when the towns atlast were strong enough to stand alone. To speak about the people inthis early period is, therefore, to invoke a myth; to write its historyis the same as writing an ideal history of mediæval Europe. 

The truth is that none of these standpoints in isolation suffices forthe student of Italy. Her inner history is the history of social andintellectual progress evolving itself under the conditions of attractionand repulsion generated by the double ideas of Papacy and Empire. Political unity is everywhere and at all times imperiously rejected. Themost varied constitutional forms are needed for the self-effectuation ofa race that has no analogue in Europe. The theocracy of Rome, themonarchy of Naples, the aristocracy of Venice, the democracy ofFlorence, the tyranny of Milan are equally instrumental in elaboratingthe national genius that gave art, literature, and mental liberty tomodern society. The struggles of city with city for supremacy or bareexistence, the internecine wars of party against party, the never-endingclash of principles within the States, educated the people tomultifarious and vivid energy. In the course of those long complicatedcontests, the chief centers acquired separate personalities, assumed thephysiognomy of conscious freedom, and stamped the mark of their ownspirit on their citizens. At the end of all discords, at the close ofall catastrophes, we find in each of the great towns a populationreleased from mental bondage and fitted to perform the work ofintellectual emancipation for the rest of Europe. Thus the essentialcharacteristic of Italy is diversity, controlled and harmonized by anideal rhythm of progressive movement. [1] We who are mainly occupied inthis book with the Italian genius as it expressed itself in society, scholarship, fine art, and literature, at its most brilliant period ofrenascence, may accept this fact of political dismemberment withacquiescence. It was to the variety of conditions offered by the Italiancommunities that we owe the unexampled richness of the mental life ofItaly. Yet it is impossible to overlook the weakness inflicted on thepeople by those same conditions when the time came for Italy to try herstrength against the nations of Europe. [2] It was then shown that thediversities which stimulated spiritual energy were a fatal source ofnational instability. The pride of the Italians in their localindependence, their intolerance of unification under a single head, thejealousies that prevented them from forming a permanent confederation, rendered them incapable of coping with races which had yielded to thecentripetal force of monarchy. If it is true that the unity of thenation under a kingdom founded at Pavia would have deprived the world ofmuch that Italy has yielded in the sphere of thought and art, it iscertainly not less true that such centralization alone could haveaverted the ruin of the sixteenth century which gives the aspect of atragedy to each volume of my work on the Renaissance. 

 [1] See Guicciardini (_Op. Ined. _ vol. I. P. 28) for an eloquent demonstration of the happiness, prosperity, and splendor conferred on the Italians by the independence of their several centers. He is arguing against Machiavelli's lamentation over their failure to achieve national unity. 

 [2] This was the point urged by Machiavelli, in the _Principe_, the _Discorsi_, and the _Art of War_. With keener political insight than Guicciardini, he perceived that the old felicity of Italy was about to fail her through the very independence of her local centers, which Guicciardini rightly recognized as the source of her unparalleled civilization and wealth. The one thing needful in the shock with France and Spain was unity. 

Without seeking to attack the whole problem of Italian history, two maintopics must be briefly discussed in the present chapter before enteringon the proper matter of this work. The first relates to the growth ofthe Communes, which preceded, necessitated, and determined thedespotisms of the fifteenth century. The second raises the question whyItalian differs from any other national history, why the people failedto achieve unity either under a sovereign or in a powerfulconfederation. These two subjects of inquiry are closely connected andinterdependent. They bring into play the several points that have beenindicated as partially and imperfectly explanatory of the problem ofItaly. But, since I have undertaken to write neither a constitutionalnor a political history, but a history of culture at a certain epoch, itwill be enough to treat of these two questions briefly, with the specialview of showing under what conditions the civilization of theRenaissance came to maturity in numerous independent Communes, reducedat last by necessary laws of circumstance to tyranny; and how it waschecked at the point of transition to its second phase of modernexistence, by political weakness inseparable from the want of nationalcoherence in the shock with mightier military races. 

Modern Italian history may be said to begin with the retirement ofHonorius to Ravenna and the subsequent foundation of Odoacer's Kingdomin 476. The Western Empire ended, and Rome was recognized as a Republic. When Zeno sent the Goths into Italy, Theodoric established himself atRavenna, continued the institutions and usages of the ancient Empire, and sought by blending with the people to naturalize his alienauthority. Rome was respected as the sacred city of ancient culture andcivility. Her Consuls, appointed by the Senate, were confirmed in duecourse by the Greek Emperor; and Theodoric made himself the vicegerentof the Cæsars rather than an independent sovereign. When we criticisethe Ostro-Gothic occupation by the light of subsequent history, it isclear that this exclusion of the capital from Theodoric's conquest andhis veneration for the Eternal City were fatal to the unity of theItalian realm. From the moment that Rome was separated from theauthority of the Italian Kings, there existed two powers in thePeninsula--the one secular, monarchical, with the military strength ofthe barbarians imposed upon its ancient municipal organization; theother ecclesiastical, pontifical, relying on the undefined ambitions ofS. Peter's See and the unconquered instincts of the Roman peoplescattered through the still surviving cities. [1] Justinian, bent uponasserting his rights as the successor of the Cæsars, wrested Italy fromthe hands of the Goths; but scarcely was this revolution effected whenNarses, the successor of Belisarius, called a new nation of barbariansto support his policy in Italy. Narses died before the advent of theLombards; but they descended, in forces far more formidable than theGoths, and established a second kingdom at Pavia. Under the Lombarddomination Rome was left untouched. Venice, with her population gatheredfrom the ruins of the neighboring Roman cities, remained inquasi-subjection to the Empire of the East. Ravenna became a Greekgarrison, ruling the Exarchate and Pentapolis under the name of theByzantine Emperors. The western coast escaped the Lombard domination;for Genoa grew slowly into power upon her narrow cornice between hillsand sea, while Pisa defied the barbarians intrenched in militarystations at Fiesole and Lucca. In like manner the islands, Sicily, Sardinia, and Corsica, were detached from the Lombard Kingdom; and themaritime cities of Southern Italy, Bari, Naples, Amalfi, and Gaetaasserted independence under the shadow of the Greek ascendency. What theLombards achieved in their conquest, and what they failed to accomplish, decided the future of Italy. They broke the country up into unequalblocks; for while the inland regions of the north obeyed Pavia, whilethe great duchies of Spoleto in the center and of Benevento in the southowned the nominal sway of Alboin's successors, [2] Venice and theRiviera, Pisa and the maritime republics of Apulia and Calabria, Ravenna and the islands, repelled their sovereignty. Rome remainedinviolable beneath the ægis of her ancient prestige, and the decadentEmpire of the East was too inert to check the freedom of the towns whichrecognized its titular supremacy. 

 [1] When I apply the term Roman here and elsewhere to the inhabitants of the Italian towns, I wish to indicate the indigenous Italic populations molded by Roman rule into homogeneity. The resurgence of this population and its reattainment of intellectual consciousness by the recovery of past traditions and the rejection of foreign influence constitutes the history of Italy upon the close of the Dark Ages. 

 [2] It will be remembered by students of early Italian history that Benevento and Spoleto joined the Church in her war upon the Lombard kingdom. Spoleto was broken up. Benevento survived as a Lombard duchy till the Norman Conquest. 

The kingdom of the Lombards endured two centuries, and left ineffaceablemarks upon Italy. A cordon of military cities was drawn round the oldRoman centers in Lombardy, Tuscany, and the Duchy of Spoleto. Pavia roseagainst Milan, which had been a second Rome, Cividale against Aquileia, Fiesole against Florence, Lucca against Pisa. The country was dividedinto Duchies and Marches; military service was exacted from thepopulation, and the laws of the Lombards, _asininum jus, quoddam jusquod faciebant reges per se_, as the jurists afterwards defined them, were imposed upon the descendants of Roman civilization. Yet theoutlying cities of the sea-coast, as we have already seen, wereindependent; and Rome remained to be the center of revolutionary ideas, the rallying-point of a policy inimical to Lombard unity. Not long aftertheir settlement, the princes of the Lombard race took the fatal step ofjoining the Catholic communion, whereby they strengthened the hands ofRome and excluded themselves from tyrannizing in the last resort overthe growing independence of the Papal See. The causes of theirconversion from Arianism to orthodox Latin Christianity are buried inobscurity. But it is probable that they were driven to this measure bythe rebelliousness of their great vassals and the necessity of restingfor support upon the indigenous populations they had subjugated. Rome, profiting by the errors and the weakness of her antagonists, extendedher spiritual dominion by enforcing sacraments, ordeals, and appeals toecclesiastical tribunals, organized her hierarchy under Gregory theGreat, and lost no opportunity of enriching and aggrandizing herbishoprics. In 718 she shook off the yoke of Byzantium by repelling theheresies of Leo the Isaurian; and when this insurrection menaced herwith the domestic tyranny of the Lombard Kings, who possessed themselvesof Ravenna in 728, she called the Franks to her aid against the nowpowerful realm. Stephen II. Journeyed in 753 to Gaul, named PippinPatrician of Rome, and invited him to the conquest of Italy. In the warthat followed, the Franks subdued the Lombards, and Charles the Greatwas invested with their kingdom and crowned Emperor in 800 by Leo III. At Rome. 

The famous compact between Charles the Great and the Pope was in effecta ratification of the existing state of things. The new Emperor took forhimself and converted into a Frankish Kingdom all the provinces that hadbeen wrested from the Lombards. He relinquished to the Papacy Rome withits patrimony, the portions of Spoleto and Benevento that had alreadyyielded to the See of S. Peter, the southern provinces that owned thenominal ascendency of Byzantium, the islands and the cities of theExarchate and Pentapolis which formed no part of the Lombard conquest. By this stipulation no real temporal power was accorded to the Papacy, nor did the new Empire surrender its paramount rights over the peninsulaat large. The Italian kingdom, transferred to the Franks in 800, was thekingdom founded by the Lombards; while the outlying and unconquereddistricts were placed beneath the protectorate of the power which hadguided their emancipation. Thus the dualism introduced into Italy byTheodoric's veneration for Rome, and confirmed by the failure of theLombard conquest, was ratified in the settlement whereby the Pope gave anew Empire to Western Christendom. Venice, Pisa, Genoa, and the maritimeRepublics of the south, excluded from the kingdom, were left to pursuetheir own course of independence; and this is the chief among manyreasons why they rose so early into prominence. Rome consolidated herancient patrimonies and extended her rectorship in the center, while theFrankish kings, who succeeded each other through eight reigns, developedthe Regno upon feudal principles by parceling the land among theirCounts. New marches were formed, traversing the previous Lombard fabricand introducing divisions that decentralized the kingdom. Thus the greatvassals of Ivrea, Verona, Tuscany, and Spoleto raised themselves againstPavia. The monarchs, placed between the Papacy and their ambitiousnobles, were unable to consolidate the realm; and when Berengar, thelast independent sovereign strove to enforce the declining authority ofPavia, he was met with the resistance and the hatred of the nation. 

The kingdom Berengar attempted to maintain against his vassals and theChurch was virtually abrogated by Otho I. , whom the Lombard noblessummoned into Italy in 951. When he reappeared in 961, he was crownedEmperor at Rome, and assumed the title of the King of Italy. Thus theRegno was merged in the Empire, and Pavia ceased to be a capital. Henceforth the two great potentates in the peninsula were an unarmedPontiff and an absent Emperor. The subsequent history of the Italiansshows how they succeeded in reducing both these powers to the conditionof principles, maintaining the pontifical and imperial ideas, butrepelling the practical authority of either potentate. Otho created newmarches and gave them to men of German origin. The houses of Savoy andMontferrat rose into importance in his reign. To Verona were intrustedthe passes between Germany and Italy. The Princes of Este at Ferraraheld the keys of the Po, while the family of Canossa accumulated fiefsthat stretched from Mantua across the plain of Lombardy, over theApennines to Lucca, and southward to Spoleto. Thus the ancient Italy ofLombards and Franks was superseded by a new Italy of German feudalism, owing allegiance to a suzerain whose interests detained him in theprovinces beyond the Alps. At the same time the organization of theChurch was fortified. The Bishops were placed on an equality with theCounts in the chief cities, and Viscounts were created to representtheir civil jurisdiction. It is difficult to exaggerate the importanceof Otho's concessions to the Bishops. During the preceding period ofFrankish rule about one third of the soil of Italy had been yielded tothe Church, which had the right of freeing its vassals from militaryservice; and since the ecclesiastical sees were founded upon ancientsites of Roman civilization, without regard to the military centers ofthe barbarian kingdoms, the new privileges of the Bishops accrued to thebenefit of the indigenous population. Milan, for example, down-troddenby Pavia, still remained the major See of Lombardy. Aquileia, though adesert, had her patriarch, while Cividale, established as a fortress tocoerce the neighboring Roman towns, was ecclesiastically but a village. At this epoch a third power emerged in Italy. Berengar had given thecities permission to inclose themselves with walls in order to repel theinvasions of the Huns. [1] Otho respected their right of self-defense, and from the date of his coronation the history of the free burghsbegins in Italy. It is at first closely connected with the changeswrought by the extinction of the kingdom of Pavia, by the exaltation ofthe clergy, and by the dislocation of the previous system offeud-holding, which followed upon Otho's determination to remodel thecountry in the interest of the German Empire. The Regno was abolished. The ancient landmarks of nobility were altered and confused. The citiesunder their Bishops assumed a novel character of independence. Those ofRoman origin, being ecclesiastical centers, had a distant advantage overthe more recent foundations of the Lombard and the Frankish monarchs. The Italic population everywhere emerged and displayed a vitality thathad been crushed and overlaid by centuries of invasion and militaryoppression. 

 [1] It is worthy of notice that to this date belongs the war-chant of the Modenese sentinels, with its allusions to Troy and Hector, which is recognized as the earliest specimen of the Italian hendecasyllabic meter. 

The burghs at this epoch may be regarded as luminous points in the densedarkness of feudal aristocracy. [1] Gathering round their Cathedral as acenter, the towns inclose their dwellings with bastions, from which theygaze upon a country bristling with castles, occupied by serfs, andlorded over by the hierarchical nobility. Within the city the Bishopand the Count hold equal sway; but the Bishop has upon his side thesympathies and passions of the burghers. The first effort of the townsis to expel the Count from their midst. Some accident of misruleinfuriates the citizens. They fly to arms and are supported by theBishop. The Count has to retire to the open country, where hestrengthens himself in his castle. [2] Then the Bishop remains victor inthe town, and forms a government of rich and noble burghers, who controlwith him the fortunes of the new-born state. At this crisis we begin tohear for the first time a word that has been much misunderstood. The_Popolo_ appears upon the scene. Interpreting the past by the present, and importing the connotation gained by the word _people_ in therevolutions of the last two centuries, students are apt to assume thatthe Popolo of the Italian burghs included the whole population. Inreality it was at first a close aristocracy of influential families, towhom the authority of the superseded Counts was transferred incommission, and who held it by hereditary right. [3] Unless we firmlygrasp this fact, the subsequent vicissitudes of the Italiancommonwealths are unintelligible, and the elaborate definitions of theFlorentine doctrinaires lose half their meaning. The internalrevolutions of the free cities were almost invariably caused by thenecessity of enlarging the Popolo, and extending its franchise to thenon-privileged inhabitants. Each effort after expansion provoked anobstinate resistance from those families who held the rights ofburghership; and thus the technical terms _primo popolo_, _secondopopolo_, _popolo grasso_, _popolo minuto_, frequently occurring in therecords of the Republics, indicate several stages in the progress fromoligarchy to democracy. The constitution of the city at this earlyperiod was simple. At the head of its administration stood the Bishop, with the Popolo of enfranchised burghers. The _Commune_ included thePopolo, together with the non-qualified inhabitants, and was representedby Consuls, varying in number according to the division of the town intoquarters. [4] Thus the Commune and the Popolo were originally separatebodies; and this distinction has been perpetuated in the architecture ofthose towns which still can show a Palazzo del Popolo apart from thePalazzo del Commune. Since the affairs of the city had to be conductedby discussion, we find Councils corresponding to the constituentelements of the burgh. There is the _Parlamento_, in which theinhabitants meet together to hear the decisions of the Bishop and thePopolo, or to take measures in extreme cases that affect the city as awhole; the _Gran Consiglio_, which is only open to duly qualifiedmembers of the Popolo; and the _Credenza_, or privy council of speciallydelegated burghers, who debate on matters demanding secrecy anddiplomacy. Such, generally speaking, and without regard to localdifferences, was the internal constitution of an Italian city during thesupremacy of the Bishops. 

 [1] It is not necessary to raise antiquarian questions here relating to the origin of the Italian Commune. Whether regarded as a survival of the ancient Roman _municipium_ or as an offshoot from the Lombard _guild_, it was a new birth of modern times, a new organism evolved to express the functions of Italian as different from ancient Roman or mediæval Lombard life. The affection of the people for their past induced them to use the nomenclature of Latin civility for the officers and councils of the Commune. Thus a specious air of classical antiquity, rather literary and sentimental than real, was given to the Commune at the outset. Moreover, it must be remembered that Rome herself had suffered no substantial interruption of republican existence during the Dark Ages. Therefore the free burghs, though their vitality was the outcome of wholly new conditions, though they were built up of guilds and associations representing interests of modern origin, flattered themselves with an uninterrupted municipal succession from the Roman era, and pointed for proof to the Eternal City. 

 [2] The Italian word _contado_ is a survival from this state of things. It represents a moment in the national development when the sphere of the Count outside the city was defined against the sphere of the municipality. The _Contadini_ are the people of the Contado, the Count's men. 

 [3] Even Petrarch, in his letter to four Cardinals (Lett. Fam. Xi. 16, ed. Fracassetti) on the reformation of the Roman Commonwealth, recommends the exclusion of the neighboring burghs and all strangers, inclusive of the Colonna and Orsini families, from the franchise. None but pure Romans, how to be discovered from the _colluviet omnium gentium_ deposited upon the Seven Hills by centuries of immigration he does not clearly say, should be chosen to revive the fallen majesty of the Republic. See in particular the peroration of his argument (op. Cit. Vol. Iii. P. 95). In other words, he aims at a narrow Popolo, a _pura cittadinanza_, in the sense of Cacciaguida Par. Xvi. 

 [4] In some places we find as many as twelve Consuls. It appears that both the constituent families of the Popolo and the numbers of the Consuls were determined by the Sections of the city, so many being told off for each quarter. 

In the North of Italy not a few of the greater vassals, among whom maybe mentioned the houses of Canossa, Montferrat, Savoy, and Este, creations of the Salic Emperors, looked with favor upon the developmentof the towns, while some nobles went so far as to constitute themselvesfeudatories of Bishops. [1] The angry warfare carried on against Canossaby the Lombard barons has probably to be interpreted by the jealousythis popular policy excited. At the same time, while Lombardy andTuscany were establishing their municipal liberties, a sympatheticmovement began in Southern Italy, which resulted in the conquest ofApulia, Calabria, and Sicily by the Normans. Omitting all the details ofthis episode, than which nothing more dramatic is presented by thehistory of modern nations, it must be enough to point out here that theNormans finally severed Italy from the Greek Empire, gave a monarchicalstamp to the south of the peninsula, and brought the Regno theyconsolidated into the sphere of national politics under the protectionof the Pope. Up to the date of their conquest Southern Italy had aseparate and confused history. It now entered the Italian community, andby the peculiar circumstances of its cession to the Holy See wasdestined in the future to become the chief instrument whereby the Popesdisturbed the equilibrium of the peninsula in furtherance of theirambitious schemes. 

 [1] The Pelavicini of S. Donnino, for example, gave themselves to Parma. 

The greatness of the Roman cities under the popular rule of theirBishops is illustrated by Milan, second only to Rome in the last days ofthe Empire. Milan had been reduced to the condition of abject misery bythe Kings, who spared no pains to exalt Pavia at the expense of herelder sister. After the dissolution of the kingdom, she started into anew life, and in 1037 her archbishop, Heribert, was singled out byConrad II. As the protagonist of the episcopal revolution againstfeudalism. [1] Heribert was in truth the hero of the burghs in theirfirst strife for independence. It was he who devised the _Carroccio_, animmense car drawn by oxen, bearing the banner of the Commune, with analtar and priests ministrant, around which the pikemen of the citymustered when they went to war. This invention of Heribert's was soonadopted by the cities throughout Italy. It gave cohesion and confidenceto the citizens, reminded them that the Church was on their side in thestruggle for freedom, and served as symbol of their military strength inunion. The first authentic records of a Parliament, embracing the noblesof the Popolo, the clergy, and the multitude, are transmitted to us bythe Milanese Chronicles, in which Heribert figures as the president of arepublic. From this date Milan takes the lead in the contests formunicipal independence. Her institutions like that of the Carroccio, together with her tameless spirit, are communicated to the neighboringcities of Lombardy, cross the Apennines, and animate the ancient burghsof Tuscany. 

 [1] He was summoned before the Diet of Pavia for having dispossessed a noble of his feud. 

Having founded their liberties upon the episcopal presidency, the citiesnow proceeded to claim the right of choosing their own Bishops. Theyrefused the prelates sent them by the Emperor, and demanded an electionby the Chapters of each town. This privilege was virtually won when thewar of Investitures broke out in 1073. After the death of Gregory VI. In1046, the Emperors resolved to enforce their right of nominating thePopes. The two first prelates imposed on Rome, Clement II. And DamatusII. , died under suspicion of poison. Thus the Roman people refused aforeign Pope, as the Lombards had rejected the bishops sent to rulethem. The next Popes, Leo IX. And Victor II. , were persuaded byHildebrand, who now appears upon the stage, to undergo a secondelection at Rome by the clergy and the people. They escapedassassination. But the fifth German, Stephen X. , again died suddenly;and now the formidable monk of Soana felt himself powerful enough tocause the election of his own candidate, Nicholas II. A Lateran council, inspired by Hildebrand, transferred the election of Popes to theCardinals, approved by the clergy and people of Rome, and confirmed theprivilege of the cities to choose their bishops, subject to Papalratification. In 1073 Hildebrand assumed the tiara as Gregory VII. , anddeclared a war that lasted more than forty years against the Empire. Atits close in 1122 the Church and the Empire were counterposed asmutually exclusive autocracies, the one claiming illimitable spiritualsway, the other recognized as no less illimitably paramount in civilsociety. From the principles raised by Hildebrand and contested in thestruggles of this duel, we may date those new conceptions of the twochief powers of Christendom which found final expression in thetheocratic philosophy of the _Summa_ and the imperial absolutism of the_De Monarchiâ_. Meanwhile the Empire and the Papacy, while trying theirforce against each other, had proved to Italy their essential weakness. What they gained as ideas, controlling the speculations of the next twocenturies, they lost as potentates in the peninsula. It was impossiblefor either Pope or Emperor to carry on the war without bidding for thesupport of the cities; and therefore, at the end of the struggle, thefree burghs found themselves strengthened at the expense of both powers. Still it must not be forgotten that the wars of Investitures, while theydeveloped the independent spirit and the military energies of theRepublics, penetrated Italy with the vice of party conflict. Theineradicable divisions of Guelf and Ghibelline were a heavy price to payfor a step forward on the path of emancipation; nor was theecclesiastical revolution, which tended to Italianize the Papacy, whileit magnified its cosmopolitan ascendency, other than a source of evil tothe nation. 

The forces liberated in the cities by these wars brought the Consuls tothe front. The Bishops had undermined the feudal fabric of the kingdom, depressed the Counts, and restored the Roman towns to prosperity. Duringthe war both Popolo and Commune grew in vigor, and their Consuls beganto use the authority that had been conquered by the prelates. At firstthe Consuls occupied a subordinate position as men of affairs andnotaries, needed to transact the business of the mercantile inhabitants. They now took the lead as political agents of the first magnitude, representing the city in its public acts, and superseding theecclesiastics. The Popolo was enlarged by the admission of new burgherfamilies, and the ruling caste, though still oligarchical, became morefairly representative of the inhabitants. This progress was inevitable, when we remember that the cities had been organized for warfare, andthat, except their Consuls, they had no officials who combined civiland military functions. Under the jurisdiction of the Consuls Roman lawwas everywhere substituted for Lombard statutes, and another strong blowwas thus dealt against decaying feudalism. The school of Bolognaeclipsed the university of Pavia. Justinian's Code was studied withpassionate energy, and the Italic people enthusiastically reverted tothe institutions of their past. In the fable of the Codex of the_Pandects_ brought by Pisa from Amalfi we can trace the fervor of thismovement, whereby the Romans of the cities struggled after resurrection. 

One of the earliest manifestations of municipal vitality was the war ofcity against city, which began to blaze with fury in the first half ofthe twelfth century, and endured so long as free towns lasted toperpetuate the conflict. No sooner had the burghs established themselvesbeneath the presidency of their Consuls than they turned the arms theyhad acquired in the war of independence, against their neighbors. Thephenomenon was not confined to any single district. It revealed a newnecessity in the very constitution of the commonwealths. Penned upwithin the narrow limits of their petty dependencies, throbbing withfresh life, overflowing with a populace inured to warfare, demandingchannels for their energies in commerce, competing with each other onthe paths of industry, they clashed in deadliest duels for breathingspace and means of wealth. The occasions that provoked one Commune todeclare war upon its rival were trivial. The animosity was internecineand persistent. Life or death hung in the balance. It was a conflict forascendency that brought the sternest passions into play, and decided thesurvival of the fittest among hundreds of competing cities. The deeplyrooted jealousies of Roman and feudal centers, the recent partisanshipof Papal and Imperial principles, imbittered this strife. But what laybeneath all superficial causes of dissension was the economic struggleof communities, for whom the soil of Italy already had begun to seem toonarrow. So superabundant were the forces of her population, so vast werethe energies emancipated by her attainment of municipal freedom, thatthis mighty mother of peoples could not afford equal sustenance to allher children. New-born, they had to strangle one another as they hungupon the breast that gave them nourishment. It was impossible for theEmperor to overlook the apparent anarchy of his fairest province. Therefore, when Frederick Barbarossa was elected in 1152, his firstthought was to reduce the Garden of the Empire to order. Soon after hiselection he descended into Lombardy and formed two leagues among thecities of the North, the one headed by Pavia, the center of theabrogated kingdom, the other by Milan, who inherited the majesty of Romeand contained within her loins the future of Italian freedom. It is notnecessary to follow in detail the conflict of the Lombard burghs withFrederick, so enthusiastically described by their historian, Sismondi, It is enough for our present purpose to remember that in the course ofthat contention both leagues made common cause against the Emperor, drewthe Pope Alexander III. Into their quarrel, and at last in 1183, afterthe victory of Legnano had convinced Frederick of his weakness, extortedby the Peace of Constance privileges whereby their autonomy was amplyguaranteed and recognized. The advantages won by Milan who sustained thebrunt of the imperial onslaughts, and by the splendor of her martyrdomsurmounted the petty jealousies of her municipal rivals, were extendedto the cities of Tuscany. After the date of that compact signed by theEmperor and his insurgent subjects, the burghs obtained an assuredposition as a third power between the Empire and the Church. The mostremarkable point in the history of this contention is the unanimoussubmission of the Communes to what they regarded as the just suzeraintyof Cæsar's representative. Though they were omnipotent in Lombardy, theytook no measures for closing the gates of the Alps against the Germans. The Emperor was free to come and go as he listed; and when peace wassigned, he reckoned the burghers who had beaten him by arms and policy, among his loyal vassals. Still the spirit of independence in Italy hadbeen amply asserted. This is notably displayed in the address presentedto Frederick, before his coronation, by the senate of Rome. Regeneratedby Arnold of Brescia's revolutionary mission, the Roman people assumedits antique majesty in these remarkable words: 'Thou wast a stranger; Ihave made thee citizen; thou camest from regions from beyond the Alps; Ihave conferred on thee the principality. '[1] Presumptuous boast as thissounded in the ears of Frederick, it proved that the Italic nation hadnow sharply defined itself against the Church and the barbarians. Itstill accepted the Empire because the Empire was the glory of Italy, thecrown that gave to her people the presidency of civilization. It stillrecognized the authority of the Church because the Church was the eldestdaughter of Italy emergent from the wrecks of Roman society. But thenation had become conscious of its right to stand apart from either. 

 [1]: 'Hospes eras, civem feci. Advena fuisti ex transalpinis partibus, principem constitui. Quod meum jure fuit, tibi dedi. ' See _Ottonis Episcopi Frisingensis Chronicon_, De Rebus Gestis Frid. I. Imp. Lib. Ii. Cap. 21. Basileæ, 1569. The Legates appointed by the Senate met the Emperor at Sutri, and delivered the oration of which the sentence just quoted was part. It began: 'Urbis legati nos, rex optime, ad tuam a Senatu, populoque Romano destinati sumus excellentiam, ' and contained this remarkable passage: 'Orbis imperium affectas, coronam præbitura gratanter assurgo, jocanter occurro . .. Indebitum clericorum excussurus jugum. ' If the words are faithfully reported, the Republic separates itself abruptly from the Papacy, and claims a kind of precedence in honor before the Empire. Frederick is said to have interrupted the Legates in a rage before they could finish their address, and to have replied with angry contempt. The speech put into his mouth is probably a rhetorical composition, but it may have expressed his sentiments. 'Multa de Romanorum sapientia seu fortitudine hactenus audivimus, magis tamen de sapientia. Quare satis mirari non possumus, quod verba vestra plus arrogantiæ tumore insipida quam sale sapientiæ condita sentimus. .. . Fuit, fuit quondam in hac Republica virtus. Quondam dico, atque o utinam tam veracitur quam libenter nunc dicere possemus, ' etc. 

Strengthened by their contest with Frederick Barbarossa, recognized intheir rights as belligerent powers, and left to their own guidance bythe Empire, the cities were now free to prosecute their wars upon theremnants of feudalism. The town, as we have learned to know it, wassurrounded by a serried rank of castles, where the nobles held stillundisputed authority over serfs of the soil. Against this cordon offortresses every city with singular unanimity directed the forces it hadformed in the preceding conflicts. At the same time the municipalstruggles of Commune against Commune lost none of their virulence. TheCounts, pressed on all sides by the towns that had grown up around them, adopted the policy of pitting one burgh against another. When a noblewas attacked by the township near his castle, he espoused theanimosities of a more distant city, compromised his independence byaccepting the captaincy or lieutenancy of communes hostile to hisnatural enemies, and thus became the servant or ally of a Republic. Inhis desperation he emancipated his serfs, and so the folk of the Contadoprofited by the dissensions of the cities and their feudal masters. Thisnew phase of republican evolution lasted over a long and ill-definedperiod, assuming different characters in different centers; but the endof it was that the nobles were forced to submit to the cities. They wereadmitted to the burghership, and agreed to spend a certain portion ofevery year in the palaces they raised within the circuit of the walls. Thus the Counts placed themselves beneath the jurisdiction of theConsuls, and the Italic population absorbed into itself the relics ofLombard, Frank, and German aristocracy. Still the gain upon the side ofthe republics was not clear. Though the feudal lordship of the nobleshad been destroyed, their wealth, their lands, and their prestigeremained untouched. In the city they felt themselves but aliens. Theirreal home was still the castle on the neighboring mountain. Nor, whenthey stooped to become burghers, had they relinquished the use of arms. Instead of building peaceable dwelling-houses in the city, they filledits quarters with fortresses and towers, whence they carried on feudsamong themselves and imperiled the safety of the streets. It wasspeedily discovered that the war against the Castles had become a waragainst the Palaces, and that the arena had been transferred from theopen Contado to the Piazza and the barricade. The authority of theconsuls proved insufficient to maintain an equilibrium between thepeople and the nobles. Accordingly a new magistrate started into being, combining the offices of supreme justiciary and military dictator. WhenFrederick Barbarossa attempted to govern the rebellious Lombard citiesin the common interest of the Empire, he established in their midst aforeign judge, called Podestà _quasi habens potestatem Imperatoris inhâc parte_. This institution only served at the moment to inflame andimbitter the resistance of the Communes: but the title of Podestà wassubsequently conferred upon the official summoned to maintain an equalbalance between the burghers and the nobles. He was invariably aforeigner, elected for one year, intrusted with summary jurisdiction inall matters of dispute, exercising the power of life and death, anddisposing of the municipal militia. The old constitution of the Communeremained to control this dictator and to guard the independence of thecity. All the Councils continued to act, and the Consuls were fortifiedby the formation of a College of Ancients or Priors. The Podestà wascreated with the express purpose of effecting a synthesis between tworival sections of the burgh. He was never regarded as other than analien to the city, adopted as a temporary mediator and controller ofincompatible elements. The lordship of the burgh still resided with theConsuls, who from this time forward began to lose their individuality inthe College of the _Signoria_--called _Priori_, _Anziani_, or _Rettori_, as the case might be in various districts. 

The Italian republics had reached this stage when Frederick II. Unitedthe Empire and the kingdom of the Two Sicilies. It was a crisis of theutmost moment for Italian independence. Master of the South, Fredericksought to reconquer the lost prerogatives of the Empire in Lombardy andTuscany; nor is it improbable that he might have succeeded in unitingItaly beneath his sway but for the violent animosity of the Church. Thewarfare of extermination carried on by the Popes against the house ofHohenstauffen was no proof of their partiality for the cause of freedom. They dreaded the reality of a kingdom that should base itself on Italyand be the rival of their own authority. Therefore they espoused thecause of the free burghs against Frederick, and when the North wasdevastated by his Vicars, they preached a crusade against Ezzelino daRomano. In the convulsions that shook Italy from North to South theparties of Guelf and Ghibelline took shape, and acquired an ineradicableforce. All the previous humors and discords of the nation were absorbedby them. The Guelf party meant the burghers of the consular Communes, the men of industry and commerce, the upholders of civil liberty, thefriends of democratic expansion. The Ghibelline party included thenaturalized nobles, the men of arms and idleness, the advocates offeudalism, the politicians who regarded constitutional progress withdisfavor. That the banner of the Church floated over the one camp, whilethe standard of the Empire rallied to itself the hostile party, was amatter of comparatively superficial moment. The true strength of the warlay in the population, divided by irreconcilable ideals, each eager topossess the city for itself, each prepared to die for its adoptedprinciples. The struggle is a social struggle, played out within theprecincts of the Commune, for the supremacy of one or the other moietyof the whole people. A city does not pronounce itself either Guelf orGhibelline till half the burghers have been exiled. The victoriousparty organizes the government in its own interest, establishes itselfin a Palazzo apart from the Commune, where it develops its machinery athome and abroad, and strengthens its finance by forced contributions andconfiscations. [1] The exiles make common cause with members of their ownfaction in an adverse burgh; and thus, by the diplomacy of Guelfs andGhibellines, the most distant centers are drawn into the network of acommon dualism. In this way we are justified in saying that Italyachieved her national consciousness through strife and conflict; for theCommunes ceased to be isolated, cemented by temporary leagues, orengaged in merely local conflicts. They were brought together andconnected by the sympathies and antipathies of an antagonism whichembraced and dominated the municipalities, set Republics and Regno onequal footing, and merged the titular leaders of the struggle, Pope andEmperor, in the uncontrollable tumult. The issue was no vulgar one; nomerely egotistic interests were at stake. Guelfs and Ghibellines alikeinterrogated the oracle, with perfect will to obey its inspiration forthe common good; but they read the utterances of the Pythia in adversesenses. The Ghibelline heard Italy calling upon him to build a citadelthat should be guarded by the lance and shield of chivalry, where thehierarchies of feudalism, ranged beneath the dais of the Empire, mightdispense culture and civil order in due measure to the people. The Guelfbelieved that she was bidding him to multiply arts and guilds within theburgh, beneath the mantle of the Pope, who stood for Christ, thepreacher of equality and peace for all mankind, in order that thebeehive of industry should in course of time evolve a civil order and aculture representative of its own freely acting forces. 

 [1] It is enough to refer to the importance of the _Parte Guelfa_ in the history of Florence. 

During the stress and storm of the fierce warfare carried on by Guelfsand Ghibellines, the Podestà fell into the second rank. He had beencreated to meet an emergency; but now the discord was too vehement forarbitration. A new functionary appears, with the title of _Captain ofthe People_. Chosen when one or other of the factions gains supremepower in the burgh, he represents the victorious party, takes the leadin proscribing their opponents, and ratifies on his responsibility thechanges introduced into the constitution. The old magistracies andcouncils, meanwhile, are not abrogated. The Consiglio del Popolo, withthe Capitano at its head, takes the lead; and a new member, called theConsiglio della Parte, is found beside them, watchful to maintain thepolicy of the victorious faction. But the Consiglio del Comune, with thePodestà, who has not ceased to exercise judicial functions, stillsubsists. The Priors form the signory as of old. The Credenza goes onworking, and the Gran Consiglio represents the body of privilegedburghers. The party does but tyrannize over the city it has conquered, and manipulates the ancient constitution for its own advantage. In thisclash of Guelf with Ghibelline the beneficiaries were the lower classesof the people. Excluded from the Popolo of episcopal and consularrevolutions, the trades and industries of the great cities now asserttheir claims to be enfranchised. The advent of the _Arti_ is the chiefsocial phenomenon of the crisis. [1] Thus the final issue of the conflictwas a new Italy, deeply divided by factions that were little understood, because they were so vital, because they represented two adversecurrents of national energy, incompatible, irreconcilable, eternal inantagonism as the poles. But this discordant nation was more commercialand more democratic. Families of merchants rose upon the ruins of theold nobility. Roman cities of industry reduced their military rivals ofearlier or later origin to insignificance. The plain, the river, and theport asserted themselves against the mountain fastness and thebarrackburgh. The several classes of society, triturated, shakentogether, leveled by warfare and equalized by industry, presented butfew obstacles to the emergence of commanding personalities, howeverhumble, from their ranks. Not only had the hierarchy of feudalismdisappeared; but the constitution of the city itself was confused, andthe Popolo, whether 'primo' or 'secondo or even 'terzo, ' was dilutedwith recently franchised Contadini and all kinds of 'novi homines. '[2]The Divine Comedy, written after the culmination of the Guelf andGhibelline dissensions, yields the measure of their animosity. Dantefinds no place in Hell Heaven, or Purgatory for the souls who stoodaloof from strife, the angels who were neither Guelf nor Ghibelline inParadise. His Vigliacchi, 'wretches who never lived, ' because they neverfelt the pangs or ecstasies of partisanship, wander homeless on theskirts of Limbo, among the abortions and offscourings of creation. Evenso there was no standing-ground in Italy outside one or the otherhostile camp. Society was riven down to its foundation. Rancors datingfrom the thirteenth century endured long after the great parties ceasedto have a meaning. They were perpetuated in customs, and expressedthemselves in the most trivial details. Banners, ensigns, and heraldiccolors followed the divisions of the factions. Ghibellines wore thefeathers in their caps upon one side, Guelfs upon the other. Ghibellinescut fruit at table crosswise, Guelfs straight down. In Bergamo someCalabrians were murdered by their host, who discovered from their way ofslicing garlic that they sided with the hostile party. Ghibellines drankout of smooth, and Guelfs out of chased, goblets. Ghibellines worewhite, and Guelfs red, roses. Yawning, passing in the street, throwingdice, gestures in speaking or swearing, were used as pretexts fordistinguishing the one half of Italy from the other. So late as themiddle of the fifteenth century, the Ghibellines of Milan tore Christfrom the high-altar of the Cathedral at Crema and burned him because heturned his face to the Guelf shoulder. Every great city has a tale oflove and death that carries the contention of its adverse families intothe region of romance and legend. Florence dated her calamities from theinsult offered by Buondelmonte dei Buondelmonti to the Amidei in abroken marriage. Bologna never forgot the pathos of Imelda Lambertazzistretched in death upon her lover Bonifazio Gieremei's corpse. The storyof Romeo and Juliet at Verona is a myth which brings both factions intoplay, the well-meaning intervention of peace-making monks, and theineffectual efforts of the Podestà to curb the violence of partywarfare. 

 [1] The history of Florence illustrates more clearly than that of any other town the vast importance acquired by trades and guilds in politics at this epoch of the civil wars. 

 [2] This is the sting of Cacciaguida's scornful lamentation over Florence Par. Xvi. 

 Ma la cittadinanza, ch' è or mista Di Campi e di Certaldo e di Figghine, Pura vedeasi nell' ultimo artista. 

 Tal fatto è fiorentino, e cambia e merca, Che si sarebbe volto a Semifonti, Là dove andava l' avolo alia cerca. 

 Sempre la confusione delle persone Principio fu del mal della cittade, Come del corpo il cibo che s' appone. 

So deep and dreadful was the discord, so utter the exhaustion, that thedistracted Communes were fain at last to find some peace in tyranny. Atthe close of their long quarrel with the house of Hohenstauffen, thePopes called Charles of Anjou into Italy. The final issue of that policyfor the nation at large will be discussed in another portion of thiswork. It is enough to point out here that, as Ezzelino da Romanointroduced despotism in its worst form as a party leader of theGhibellines, so Charles of Anjou became a typical tyrant in the Guelfinterest. He was recognized as chief of the Guelf party by theFlorentines, and the kingdom of the Two Sicilies was conferred upon himas the price of his dictatorship. The republics almost simultaneouslyentered upon a new phase. Democratized by the extension of thefranchise, corrupted, to use Machiavelli's phrase, in their oldorganization of the Popolo and Commune, they fell into the hands oftyrants, who employed the prestige of their party, the indifference ofthe Vigliacchi, and the peace-loving instincts of the middle class forthe consolidation of their selfish autocracy. [1] Placing himself abovethe law, manipulating the machinery of the State for his own ends, substituting the will of a single ruler for the clash of hostilepassions in the factions, the tyrant imposed a forcible tranquillityupon the city he had grasped. The Captaincy of the people was conferredupon him. [2] The Councils were suffocated and reduced to silence. Thearistocracy was persecuted for the profit of the plebs. Under his rulecommerce flourished; the towns were adorned with splendid edifices;foreign wars were carried on for the aggrandizement of the State withoutregard to factious rancors. Thus the tyrant marked the first emergenceof personality supreme within the State, resuming its old forces in anautocratic will, superseding and at the same time consciouslycontrolling the mute, collective, blindly working impulses of previousrevolutions. His advent was welcomed as a blessing by the recentlydeveloped people of the cities he reduced to peace. But the greatfamilies and leaders of the parties regarded him with loathing, as areptile spawned by the corruption and disease of the decaying bodypolitic. In their fury they addressed themselves to the two chiefs ofChristendom. Boniface VIII. , answering to this appeal, called in asecond Frenchman, Charles of Valois, with the titles of Marquis ofAncona, Count of Romagna, Captain of Tuscany, who was bidden to reduceItaly to order on Guelf principles. Dante in his mountain solitudesinvoked the Emperor, and Italy beheld the powerless march of Henry VII. Neither Pope nor Emperor was strong enough to control the currents ofthe factions which were surely whirling Italy into the abyss ofdespotism. Boniface died of grief after Sciarra Colonna, the terribleGhibelline's outrage at Anagni, and the Papal Court was transferred toAvignon in 1316. Henry VII. Expired, of poison probably, atBuonconvento, in 1313. The parties tore each other to fragments. Tyrantswere murdered. Whole families were extirpated. Yet these convulsionsbore no fruit of liberty. The only exit from the situation was indespotism--the despotism of a jealous oligarchy as at Florence, or thedespotism of new tyrants in Lombardy and the Romagna. [3]

 [1] Not to mention the republics of Lombardy and Romagna, which took the final stamp of despotism at the beginning of the fourteenth century, it is noticeable that Pisa submitted to Uguccione da Faggiuola, Lucca to Castruccio Castracane, and Florence to the Duke of Athens. The revolution of Pisa in 1316 delivered it from Uguccione; the premature death of Castruccio in 1328 destroyed the Tuscan duchy he was building up upon the basement of Ghibellinism; while the rebellion of 1343 averted tyranny from Florence for another century. 

 [2] Machiavelli's _Vita di Castruccio Castracane_, though it is rather a historical romance than a trustworthy biography, illustrates the gradual advances made by a bold and ambitious leader from the Captaincy of the people, conferred upon him for one year, to the tyranny of his city. 

 [3] The Divine comedy is, under one of its aspects, the Epic of Italian tyranny, so many of its episodes are chosen from the history of the civil wars:

 Chè le terre d' Italia tutte piene Son di tiranni; ed un Marcel diventa Ogni villan che parteggiando viene. 

 Those lines occur in the apostrophe to Italy (_Purg. _ vi. ) where Dante refers to the Empire, idealized by him as the supreme authority in Europe. 

Meanwhile the perils to which the tyrants were exposed taught them toemploy cruelty and craft in combination. From the confused and spasmodicefforts of the thirteenth century, when Captains of the people andleaders of the party seized a momentary gust of power, there arose asecond sort of despotism, more cautious in its policy, more methodic inits use of means to ends, which ended by metamorphosing the Italiancities and preparing the great age of the Renaissance. It would besentimental to utter lamentations over this change, and unphilosophicalto deplore the diminution of republican liberty as an unmixed evil. Thedivisions of Italy and the weakness of both Papacy and Empire left noother solution of the political problem. All branches of the municipaladministration, strained to the cracking-point by the tension of partyconflict, were now isolated from the organism, abnormally developed, requiring the combining effort of a single thinker to reunite theirscattered forces in one system or absorb them in himself. The indirectrestraints which a calmer period of municipal vitality had placed upontyrannic ambition, were removed by the leveling of classes and thepresentation of an equal surface to the builder of the palace-dome ofmonarchy. Moreover, it must be remembered that what the Italians thenunderstood by freedom was municipal autonomy controlled by ruling housesin the interest of the few. These considerations need not check oursympathy with Florence in the warfare she carried on against theMilanese tyrants. But they should lead us to be cautious in adopting theconclusions of Sismondi, who saw Italian greatness only in her freecities. The obliteration of the parties beneath despotism was needed, under actual conditions, for that development of arts and industry whichraised Italy to a first place among civilized nations. Of the manners ofthe Despots, and of the demoralization they encouraged in the cities oftheir rule, enough will be said in the succeeding chapters, which setforth the social conditions of the Renaissance in Italy. But attentionshould here be called to the general character of despotic authority, and to the influence the Despots exercised for the pacification of thecountry. We are not justified by facts in assuming that had the freeburghs continued independent, arts and literature would have risen to agreater height. Venice, in spite of an uninterrupted republican career, produced no commanding men of letters, and owed much of her splendor inthe art of painting to aliens from Cadore, Castelfranco, and Verona. Genoa remained silent and irresponsive to the artistic movement of Italyuntil the last days of the republic, when her independence was but ashadow. Pisa, though a burgh of Tuscany, displayed no literary talent, while her architecture dates from the first period of the Commune. Siena, whose republican existence lasted longer even than that ofFlorence, contributed nothing of importance to Italian literature. Theart of Perugia was developed during the ascendency of despotic families. The painting of the Milanese School owed its origin to Lodovico Sforza, and survived the tragic catastrophes of his capital, which suffered morethan any other from the brutalities of Spaniards and Frenchmen. Next toFlorence, the most brilliant centers of literary activity during thebright days of the Renaissance were princely Ferrara and royal Naples. Lastly, we might insist upon the fact that the Italian language took itsfirst flight in the court of imperial Palermo, while republican Romeremained dumb throughout the earlier stage of Italian literaryevolution. Thus the facts of the case seem to show that culture andrepublican independence were not so closely united in Italy as somehistorians would seek to make us believe. On the other hand it isimpossible to prove that the despotisms of the fifteenth century werenecessary to the perfecting of art and literature. All that can besafely advanced upon this subject, is that the pacification of Italy wasdemanded as a preliminary condition, and that this pacification came topass through the action of the princes, checked and equilibrated by theoligarchies of Venice and Florence. It might further be urged that theDespots were in close sympathy with the masses of the people, sharedtheir enthusiasms, and promoted their industry. When the classicalrevival took place at the close of the fourteenth century, they divinedthis movement of the Italic races to resume their past, and gave it allencouragement. To be a prince, and not to be the patron of scholarship, the pupil of humanists, and the founder of libraries, was animpossibility. In like manner they employed their wealth upon thedevelopment of arts and industries. The great age of Florentine paintingis indissolubly connected with the memories of Casa Medici. Rome owesher magnificence to the despotic Popes. Even the pottery of Gubbio was acreation of the ducal house of Urbino. 

After the death of Henry VII. And the beginning of the Papal exile atAvignon, the Guelf party became the rallying-point of municipalindependence, with its headquarters in Florence. Ghibellinism unitedthe princes in an opposite camp. 'The Guelf party, ' writes GiovanniVillani, 'forms the solid and unalterable basis of Italian liberty, andis so antagonistic to all tyranny that, if a Guelf become a tyrant, hemust of necessity become at the same moment Ghibelline. ' Milan, first toassert the rights of the free burghs, was now the chief center ofdespotism; and the events of the next century resume themselves in thelong struggle between Florence and the Visconti. The chronicle of theVillani and the Florentine history of Poggio contain the record of thisstrife, which seemed to them the all-important crisis of Italianaffairs. In the Milanese annals of Galvano Fiamma and Mussi, on theother hand, the advantages of a despotic sovereignty in giving nationalcoherence, the crimes of the Papacy, which promoted anarchy in itsill-governed States, and the prospect of a comprehensive Italian tyrannyunder the great house of the Visconti, are eloquently pleaded. The termsof the main issue being thus clearly defined, we may regard the warfarecarried on by Bertrand du Poiet and Louis of Bavaria in the interests ofChurch and Empire, the splendid campaigns of Egidio d'Albornoz, and thedelirious cruelty of Robert of Geneva, no less than the predatoryexcursions of Charles IV. , as episodical. The main profits of thoseconvulsions, which drowned Italy in blood during nearly all thefourteenth century, accrued to the Despots, who held their ground inspite of all attempts to dispossess them. The greater houses, notablythe Visconti, acquired strength by revolutions in which the Church andEmpire neutralized each other's action. The lesser families struck firmroots into cities, infuriated rather than intimidated by such acts ofviolence as the massacres of Faenza and Cesena in 1377. The relations ofthe imperial and pontifical parties were confused; while even in thecenter of republican independence, at Florence, social changes, determined in great measure by the exhaustion of the city in itsconflict, prepared the way for the Medicean tyranny. Neither the Churchnor the Empire gained steady footing in Italy, while the prestige ofboth was ruined. [1] Municipal freedom, instead of being enlarged, wasextinguished by the ambition of the Florentine oligarchs, who, whilethey spent the last florin of the Commune in opposing the Visconti, never missed an opportunity of enslaving the sister burghs of Tuscany. In a word, the destiny of the nation was irresistibly impelling ittoward despotism. 

 [1] Machiavelli, in his _Istorie Fiorentine_ (Firenze, 1818, vol. I. Pp. 47, 48), points out how the competition of the Church and Empire, during the Papacies of Benedict XII. And Clement VI. And the reign of Louis strengthened the tyrants of Lombardy, Romagna, and the March. Each of the two contending powers gave away what did not belong to them, bidding against each other for any support they might obtain from the masters of the towns. 

In order to explain the continual prosperity of the princes amid theclash of forces brought to bear against them from so many sides, we mustremember that they were the partisans of social order in distractedburghs, the heroes of the middle classes and the multitude, the quellersof faction, the administrators of impartial laws, and the aggrandizersof the city at the expense of its neighbors. Ser Gorello, singing thepraises of the Bishop Guido dei Tarlati di Pietra Mala, who ruled Arezzoin the first half of the fourteenth century, makes the Commune say:[1]'He was the lord so valiant and magnificent, so full of grace anddaring, so agreeable to both Guelfs and Ghibellines. He, for his virtue, was chosen by common consent to be the master of my people. Peace andjustice were the beginning, middle, and end of his lordship, whichremoved all discord from the State. By the greatness of his valor I grewin territory round about. Every neighbor reverenced me, some throughlove and some through dread; for it was dear to them to rest beneath hismantle. ' These verses set forth the qualities which united the mass ofthe populations to their new lords. The Despot delivered the industrialclasses from the tyranny and anarchy of faction, substituting a reign ofpersonal terrorism that weighed more heavily upon the nobles than uponthe artisans or peasants. Ruling more by perfidy, corruption, and fraudthan by the sword, he turned the leaders of parties into courtiers, brought proscribed exiles back into the city as officials, flatteredlocal vanity by continuing the municipal machinery in its functions ofparade, and stopped the mouths of unruly demagogues by making it theirpecuniary interest to preach his benefits abroad. So long as theburghers remained peaceable beneath his sway and refrained fromattacking him in person, he was mild. But at the same moment thegallows, the torture-chamber, the iron cage suspended from the giddyheight of palace-roof or church tower, and the dreadful dungeons, wherea prisoner could neither stand nor lie at ease, were ever ready for theman who dared dispute his authority. That authority depended solely onhis personal qualities of will, courage, physical endurance. He held itby intelligence, being as it were an artificial product of politicalnecessities, an equilibrium of forces, substituted without legal titlefor the Church and Empire, and accumulating in his despoticindividuality the privileges previously acquired by centuries ofconsuls, Podestàs, and Captains of the people. The chief danger he hadto fear was conspiracy; and in providing himself against this peril heexpended all the resources suggested by refined ingenuity and heightenedterror. Yet, when the Despot was attacked and murdered, it followed ofnecessity that the successful conspirator became in turn a tyrant. 'Cities, ' wrote Machiavelli, [2] 'that are once corrupt and accustomed tothe rule of princes, can never acquire freedom, even though the princewith all his kin be extirpated. One prince is needed to extinguishanother; and the city has no rest except by the creation of a new lord, unless it chance that one burgher by his goodness and great qualitiesmay during his lifetime preserve its temporary independence. ' Palaceintrigues, therefore, took the place of Piazza revolutions, anddynasties were swept away to make room for new tyrants without materialchange in the condition of the populace. 

 [1] _Mur. Scr. R. It. _ xv. 826. Compare what G. Merula wrote about Azzo Visconti: 'He conciliated the people to him by equal justice without distinction of Guelf or Ghibelline. '

 [2] _Discorsi_. I. 17. 

It was the universal policy of the Despots to disarm their subjects. Prompted by considerations of personal safety, and demanded by thenecessity of extirpating the factions, this measure was highly popular. It relieved the burghers of that most burdensome of all public duties, military service. A tax on silver and salt was substituted in theMilanese province for the conscription, while the Florentine oligarchs, actuated probably by the same motives, laid a tax upon the country. Theeffect of this change was to make financial and economical questionsall-important, and to introduce a new element into the balance ofItalian powers. The principalities were transformed into great banks, where the lords of cities sat in their bureau, counted their money, andcalculated the cost of wars or the value of towns they sought to acquireby bargain. At first they used their mercenary troops like pawns, buyingup a certain number for some special project, and dismissing them whenit had been accomplished. But in course of time the mercenaries awoke tothe sense of their own power, and placed themselves beneath captains whosecured them a certainty of pay with continuity of profitable service. Thus the Condottieri came into existence, and Italy beheld the spectacleof moving despotisms, armed and mounted, seeking to effect establishmentupon the weakest, worst-defended points of the peninsula. They proved agrave cause of disquietude alike to the tyrants and the republics; anduntil the settlement of Francesco Sforza in the Duchy of Milan, when theemployers of auxiliaries had come to understand the arts of dealing withthem by perfidy, secret assassination, and a system of elaboratecounter-checks, the equilibrium of power in Italy was seriouslythreatened. The country suffered at first from marauding excursionsconducted by piratical leaders of adventurous troops, by Werner ofUrslingen, the Conte Lando, and Fra Moriale; afterwards from thediscords of Braccio da Montone and Sforza Attendolo, incessantlyplotting to carve duchies for themselves from provinces they had beensummoned by a master to subdue. At this period gold ruled the destiniesof Italy. The Despots, relying solely on their exchequer for theirpower, were driven to extortion. Cities became bankrupt, pledged theirrevenues, or sold themselves to the highest bidder. [1] Indescribablemisery oppressed the poorer classes and the peasants. A series ofobscure revolutions in the smaller despotic centers pointed to avehement plebeian reaction against a state of things that had becomeunbearable. The lower classes of the burghers rose against the 'popolanigrassi, ' and a new class of princes emerged at the close of the crisis. Thus the plebs forced the Bentivogli on Bologna and the Medici onFlorence, and Baglioni on Perugia and the Petrucci on Siena. 

 [1] Perugia, for example, farmed out the tax upon her country population for 12, 000 florins, upon her baking-houses for 7, 266, upon her wine for 4, 000, upon her lake for 5, 200, upon contracts for 1, 500. Two bankers accepted the Perugian loan at this price in 1388. 

The emergence of the Condottieri at the beginning of the fourteenthcentury, the anarchy they encouraged for their own aggrandizement, andthe financial distress which ensued upon the substitution of mercenaryfor civic warfare, completed the democratization of the Italian cities, and marked a new period in the history of despotism. From the date ofFrancesco Sforza's entry into Milan as conqueror in 1450, the princesbecame milder in their exercise of power and less ambitious. Havingbegun by disarming their subjects, they now proceeded to lay down armsthemselves, employing small forces for the protection of their personand the State, engaging more cautiously in foreign strife, andsubstituting diplomacy, wherever it was possible, for warfare. Goldstill ruled in politics, but it was spent in bribery. To the ambitiousmilitary schemes of Gian Galeazzo Visconti succeeded the commercialcynicism of Cosimo de' Medici, who enslaved Florence by astutedemoralization. [1] The spirit of the age was materialistic and positive. The Despots held their state by treachery, craft, and corruption. Theelement of force being virtually eliminated, intelligence at last gainedundivided sway; and the ideal statecraft of Machiavelli was realizedwith more or less completeness in all parts of the peninsula. At thismoment and by these means Italy obtained a brief but golden period ofpeace beneath the confederation of her great powers. Nicholas V. Hadrestored the Papal court to Rome in 1447; where he assumed the mannersof despotism and counted as one among the Italian Signori. Lombardyremained tranquil under the rule of Francesco Sforza, and Tuscany underthat of the Casa Medici. The kingdom of Naples, conquered by Alfonso ofAragon in 1442, was equally ruled in the spirit of enlighteneddespotism, while Venice, who had so long formed a state apart, by herrecent acquisition of a domain on terra firma, entered the community ofItalian politics. Thus the country had finally resolved itself into fivegrand constituent elements--the Duchy of Milan, the Republic of S. Mark, Florence, Rome, and the kingdom of Naples--all of them, though widelydiffering in previous history and constitutional peculiarities, nowanimated by a common spirit. [2] Politically they tended to despotism;for though Venice continued to be a republic, the government of theVenetian oligarchy was but despotism put into commission. Intellectually, the same enthusiasm for classical studies, the sameartistic energy, and the same impulse to revive Italian literaturebrought the several centers of the nation into keener sympathy than theyhad felt before. A network of diplomacy embraced the cities; and roundthe leaders of the confederation were grouped inferior burghs, republican or tyrannical as the case might be, like satellites aroundthe luminaries of a solar system. When Constantinople was taken by theTurks in 1453, Italy felt the need of suppressing her old jealousies, and Nicholas V. Induced the four great powers to sign with him a treatyof peace and amity. The political tact and sagacity of Lorenzo de'Medici enabled him to develop and substantiate the principle of balancethen introduced into Italian politics; nor was there any apparent reasonwhy the equilibrium so hardly won, so skillfully maintained, should nothave subsisted but for Lodovico Sforza's invitation to the French in1494. Up to that date the more recent wars of Italy had been principallycaused by the encroachments of Venice and the nepotism of successivePopes. They raised no new enthusiasm hostile to the interests of peace. The Empire was eliminated and forgotten as an obsolete antiquity. Italyseemed at last determined to manage her own affairs by mutual agreementbetween the five great powers. 

 [1] I have attempted to analyze Cosimo's method in the article on 'Florence and the Medici, ' _Studies and Sketches in Italy_. 

 [2] This centralization of Italy in five great powers was not obtained without the depression or total extinction of smaller cities. Ferrari counts seventeen towns, who died, to use his forcible expression, at the close of the civil wars. _Storia delle Rivoluzioni d' Italia_, iii. 239. 

Still the ground beneath this specious fabric of diplomacy rung hollow. The tyrannies represented a transient political necessity. They were notthe product of progressive social growth, satisfying and regulatingorganic functions of the nation. Far from being the final outcome of aslow, deliberate accretion in the states they had absorbed, we see inthem the climax of conflicting humors, the splendid cancers andimposthumes of a desperate disease. That solid basis of nationalmorality which grounds the monarch firm upon the sympathies andinterests of the people whom he seems to lead, but whom he in realityexpresses, failed them. Therefore each individual despot trembled forhis throne, while Italy, as in the ominous picture drawn by herhistorian, felt that all the elements were combining to devour her witha coming storm. The land of earthquakes divined a cataclysm, to copewith which she was unable. An apparently insignificant event determinedthe catastrophe. The Sforza appealed to France, and after the disastrousdescent of Charles VIII. The whole tide of events turned. Instead ofinternal self-government by any system of balance, Italy submitted to asuccession of invasions terminating in foreign tyranny. 

The problem why the Italians failed to achieve the unity of a coherentnation has been implicitly discussed in the foregoing pages upon thehistory of the Communes and the development of despotism. We havealready seen that their conception of municipal independence made anarrow oligarchy of enfranchised burghers lords of the city, which inits turn oppressed the country and the subject burghs of its domain. Every conquest by a republic reduced some village or center of civillife to the condition of serfdom. The voices of the inhabitants were nolonger heard debating questions that affected their interests. Theysubmitted to dictation from their masters, the enfranchised few in theascendant commonwealth. Thus, as Guicciardini pointed out in his'Considerations on the Discourses of Machiavelli, ' the subjection ofItaly by a dominant republic would have meant the extinction ofnumberless political communities and the sway of a close oligarchy fromthe Alps to the Ionian Sea. [1] The 3, 200 burghers who constitutedFlorence in 1494, or the nobles of the Golden Book at Venice, would bysuch unification of the country under a victorious republic have becomesovereigns, administering the resources of the nation for their profit. The dread of this catastrophe rendered Venice odious to her sistercommonwealths at the close of the fifteenth century, and justified, according to Guicciardini's views of history, the action taken by Cosimode' Medici in 1450, when he rendered Milan strong by supporting herdespot, Francesco Sforza. [2] In a word republican freedom, as the termis now understood, was unknown in Italy. Municipal autonomy, implyingthe right of the municipality to rule its conquests for its ownparticular profit, was the dominant idea. To have advanced from thisstage of thought to the highly developed conception of a nationalrepublic, centralizing the forces of Italy and at the same time givingfree play to its local energies, would have been impossible. This kindof republican unity implies a previous unification of the people in someother form of government. It furthermore demands a system ofrepresentation extended to all sections of the nation. Their verynature, therefore, prevented the republican institutions won by theItalians in the early Middle Ages from sufficing for their independencein a national republic. 

 [1] _Op. Ined. _ vol. I. P. 28. 

 [2] _Ib. _ vol. Iii. P. 8. 

It may with more reason be asked in the next place why Italy did notbecome a monarchy, and again why she never produced a confederation, uniting the Communes as the Swiss Cantons were combined for mutualsupport and self-defense. When we attack the first of these twoquestions, our immediate answer must be that the Italians had a rooteddisinclination for monarchical union. [1] Their most strenuous effortswere directed against it when it seemed to threaten them. It may beremembered that they were not a new people, needing concentration tosecure their bare existence. Even during the great days of ancient Romethey had not been what we are wont to call a nation, but a confederacyof municipalities governed and directed by the mistress of the globe. When Rome passed away, the fragments of the body politic in Italy, though rudely shaken, retained some portion of the old vitality thatjoined them to the past. It was to the past rather than the future thatthe new Italians looked; and even as they lacked initiative forces intheir literature, so in their political systems they ventured on nofresh beginning. Though Rome herself was ruined, the shadow of the nameof Rome, the mighty memory of Roman greatness, still abode with them. Instead of a modern capital and a modern king, they had an idea fortheir rallying-point, a spiritual city for their metropolis. Nor wasthere any immediate reason why they should have sacrificed their localindependence in order to obtain the security afforded by a sovereign. Itwas not till a later epoch that Italy learned by bitter experience thatunity at any cost would be acceptable, face to face with the organizedarmies of modern Europe. But when the chance of securing that safeguardwas offered in the Middle Ages, it must have been bought by subjectionto foreigners, by toleration of feudalism, by the extinction of Romanculture in the laws and customs of barbarians. Thus it is not too muchto say that the Italians themselves rejected it. Moreover, the problemof unifying Italy in a monarchy was never so practically simple as thatof forming nations out of the Teutonic tribes. Not only was the instinctof clanship absent, but before the year 800 all attempts to establish amonarchical state were thwarted by the still formidable proximity ofthe Greek Empire and by the growing power of ecclesiastical Rome. Wehave seen how the Goths erred by submitting-to the Empire and mergingtheir authority in a declining organization. We have seen again how theLombards erred by adopting Catholic Christianity and thus entanglingthemselves in the policy of Papal Rome. Both Goths and Lombardscommitted the mistake of sparing the Eternal City; or it may be moreaccurate to say that neither of them were strong enough to lay hands ofviolence upon the sacred and mysterious metropolis and hold it as theirseat of monarchy against the world. So long as Rome remainedindependent, neither Ravenna nor Pavia could head a kingdom in thepeninsula. Meanwhile Rome lent her prestige to the advancement of aspiritual power which, subject to no dynastic weakness, with thepersistent force of an idea that cannot die, was bent on subjugatingEurope. The Papacy needed Italy as the basis of its operations, andcould not brook a rival that might reduce the See of S. Peter to thelevel of an ordinary bishopric. Rome therefore, generation aftergeneration, upheld the so-called liberties of Italy against all comers;and when she summoned the Franks, it was to break the growing power ofthe Lombard monarchs. The pact between the Popes and Charles the Great, however we may interpret its meaning, still further removed thepossibility of a kingdom by dividing Italy into two sections withseparate allegiances; and since the sway of neither Pope nor Emperor, the one unarmed, the other absent, was stringent enough to check thegrowth of independent cities, a third and all-important factor was addedto the previous checks upon national unity. 

 [1] Guicciardini (_Op. Ined. _ i. 29) remarks: 'O sia per qualche fato d' Italia, o per la complessione degli uomini temperata in modo che hanno ingegno e forze, non è mai questa provincia stata facile a ridursi sotto uno imperio. ' He speaks again of her disunion as 'quello modo di vivere che è più secondo la antiquissima consuetudine e inclinazione sua. ' But Guicciardini, with that defect of vision which rendered him incapable of appreciating the whole situation while he analyzed its details so profoundly, was reckoning without the great nations of Europe. See above, pp. 40, 41. 

After 1200 the problem changes its aspect. We have now to ask ourselveswhy, when the struggle with the Empire was over, when FrederickBarbarossa had been defeated at Legnano, when the Lombard and the TuscanLeagues were in full vigor before the Guelf and Ghibelline factions hadconfused the mainsprings of political activity, and while the nationalmilitia was still energetic, the Communes did not advance from theconception of local and municipal independence to that of nationalfreedom in a confederacy similar to the Swiss Bund. The Italians, it maybe suggested, saw no immediate necessity for a confederation that wouldhave limited the absolute autonomy of their several parcels. Only thelight cast by subsequent events upon their early history makes usperceive that they missed an unique opportunity at this moment. Whatthey then desired was freedom for expansion each after his own politicaltype, freedom for the development of industry and commerce, freedom forthe social organization of the city beloved by its burghers above thenation as a whole. Special difficulties, moreover, lay in the way ofconfederation. The Communes were not districts, like the Swiss Cantons, but towns at war with the Contado round them and at war amongthemselves. Mutually jealous and mistrustful, with a country populationthat but partially obeyed their rule, these centers of Italian freedomwere in a very different position from the peasant communities ofSchwytz, Uri, Untenvalden. Italy, moreover, could not have beenfederally united without the consent of Naples and the Church. Thekingdom of the Two Sicilies, rendered definitely monarchical by theNorman Conquest, offered a serious obstacle; and though the Regno mighthave been defied and absorbed by a vigorous concerted movement from theNorth and center, there still remained the opposition of the Papacy. Ithad been the recent policy of the Popes to support the free burghs intheir war with Frederick. But they did this only because they could nottolerate a rival near their base of spiritual power; and the veryreasons which had made them side with the cities in the wars ofliberation would have roused their hostility against a federative union. To have encouraged an Italian Bund, in the midst of which they wouldhave found the Church unarmed and on a level with the puissant towns ofLombardy and Tuscany, must have seemed to them a suicidal error. Such acoalition, if attempted, could not but have been opposed with all theirmight; for the whole history of Italy proves that Machiavelli was rightwhen he asserted that the Church had persistently maintained the nationin disunion for the furtherance of her own selfish ends. We havefurthermore to add the prestige which the Empire preserved for theItalians, who failed to conceive of any civilized, human society whereofthe representative of Cæsar should not be the God-appointed head. Thoughthe material power of the Emperors was on the wane, it still existed asa dominant idea. Italy was still the Garden of the Empire no less thanthe Throne of Christ on earth. After the burghs had wrung what theyregarded as their reasonable rights and privileges from Frederick, theylaid down their arms, and were content to flourish beneath the imperialshadow. To raise up a political association as a bulwark against theHoly Roman Empire, and by the formation of this defense to become anindependent and united nation, instead of remaining an aggregate ofscattered townships, would have seemed to their minds little short ofsacrilege. Up to this point the Church and the Empire had been, theoretically at least, concordant. They were the sun and moon of asacred social system which ruled Europe with light and might. But theWars of Investiture placed them in antagonism, and the result of thatquarrel was still further to divide the Italians, still further toremove the hope of national unity into the region of thingsunattainable. The great parties accentuated communal jealousies and gaveexternal form and substance to the struggles of town with town. So fardistant was the possibility of confederation on a grand scale that everycity strove within itself to establish one of two contradictoryprinciples, and the energies of the people were expended in a strugglethat set neighbor against neighbor on the field of war and in themarket-place. The confusion, exhaustion, and demoralization engenderedby these conflicts determined the advent of the Despots; and after 1400Italy could only have been united under a tyrant's iron rule. At such anuniversal despotism Gian Galeazzo Visconti was aiming when the plaguecut short his schemes. Cesare Borgia played his highest stakes for it. Leo X. Dreamed of it for his family. Machiavelli, at the end of the_Principe_, when the tragedy of Italy was almost accomplished, invokedit. But even for this last chance of unification it was now too late. The great nations of Europe were in movement, and the destinies of Italydepended upon France and Spain. When Charles V. Remained victor in thestruggle of the sixteenth century, he stereotyped and petrified thedivisions of Italy in the interest of his own dynastic policy. The onlyItalian power that remained unchangeable throughout all changes was thePapacy--the first to emerge into prominence after the decay of the oldWestern Empire, the last to suffer diminution in spite of vicissitudes, humiliations, schisms, and internal transformation. As the Papacy hadcreated and maintained a divided Italy, as it had opposed itself toevery successive prospect of unification, so it survived the extinctionof Italian independence, and lent its aid to that imperial tyrannywhereby the disunion of the nation was confirmed and prolongated tillthe present century. 

CHAPTER III. 

THE AGE OF THE DESPOTS. 

Salient Qualities of the Fourteenth and Fifteenth Centuries inItaly--Relation of Italy to the Empire and to the Church--TheIllegitimate Title of Italian Potentates--The Free Emergence ofPersonality--Frederick II. And the Influence of his Example--Ezzelinoda Romano--Six Sorts of Italian Despots--Feudal Seigneurs--Vicars of theEmpire--Captains of the People--Condottieri--Nephews and Sons ofPopes--Eminent Burghers--Italian Incapacity for Self-Government inCommonwealths--Forcible Tenure of Power encouraged Personal Ability--TheCondition of the Despot's Life--Instances of Domestic Crime in theRuling Houses--Macaulay's Description of the Italian Tyrant--Savonarola's and Matteo Villani's Description of a Tyrant--TheAbsorption of Smaller by Greater Tyrannies in the FourteenthCentury--History of the Visconti--Francesco Sforza--The Part played inItalian Politics by Military Leaders--Mercenary Warfare--Alberico daBarbiano, Braccio da Montone, Sforza Attendolo--History of the SforzaDynasty--The Murder of Galeazzo Maria Sforza--The Ethics of Tyrannicidein Italy--Relation of the Despots to Arts and Letters--SigismondoPandolfo Malatesta--Duke Federigo of Urbino--The School of Vittorinoand the Court of Urbino--The Cortegiano of Castiglione--The Ideals ofthe Italian Courtier and the Modern Gentleman--General Retrospect. 

The fourteenth and fifteenth centuries may be called the Age of theDespots in Italian history, as the twelfth and thirteenth are the Age ofthe Free Burghs, and as the sixteenth and seventeenth are the Age ofForeign Enslavement. It was during the age of the Despots that theconditions of the Renaissance were evolved, and that the Renaissanceitself assumed a definite character in Italy. Under tyrannies, in themidst of intrigues, wars, and revolutions, the peculiar individuality ofthe Italians obtained its ultimate development. This individuality, asremarkable for salient genius and diffused talent as for self-consciousand deliberate vice, determined the qualities of the Renaissance andaffected by example the whole of Europe. Italy led the way in theeducation of the Western races, and was the first to realize the type ofmodern as distinguished from classical and mediæval life. 

During this age of the despots, Italy presents the spectacle of a nationdevoid of central government and comparatively uninfluenced byfeudalism. The right of the Emperor had become nominal, and served as apretext for usurpers rather than as a source of order. The visits, forinstance, of Charles IV. And Frederick III. Were either beggingexpeditions or holiday excursions, in the course of which ambitiousadventurers bought titles to the government of towns, and meaninglesshonors were showered upon vain courtiers. It was not till the reign ofMaximilian that Germany adopted a more serious policy with regard toItaly, which by that time had become the central point of Europeanintrigue. Charles V. Afterwards used force to reassert imperial rightsover the Italian cities, acting not so much in the interest of theEmpire as for the aggrandizement of the Spanish monarchy. At the sametime the Papacy, which had done so much to undermine the authority ofthe Empire, exercised a power at once anomalous and ill-recognizedexcept in the immediate States of the Church. By the extinction of theHouse of Hohenstauffen and by the assumed right to grant the investitureof the kingdom of Naples to foreigners, the Popes not only struck adeath-blow at imperial influence, but also prepared the way for theirown exile to Avignon. This involved the loss of the second greatauthority to which Italy had been accustomed to look for the maintenanceof some sort of national coherence. Moreover, the Church, thoughimpotent to unite all Italy beneath her own sway, had power enough toprevent the formation either by Milan or Venice or Naples of asubstantial kingdom. The result was a perpetually recurring process ofcomposition, dismemberment, and recomposition, under different forms, ofthe scattered elements of Italian life. The Guelf and Ghibellineparties, inherited from the wars of the thirteenth century, survived thepolitical interests which had given them birth, and proved aninsurmountable obstacle, long after they had ceased to have any realsignificance, to the pacification of the country. [1] The only importantstate which maintained an unbroken dynastic succession of howeverdisputed a nature at this period was the kingdom of the Two Sicilies. The only great republics were Venice, Genoa, and Florence. Of these, Genoa, after being reduced in power and prosperity by Venice, wasovershadowed by the successive lords of Milan; while Florence wasdestined at the end of a long struggle to fall beneath a family ofdespots. All the rest of Italy, especially to the north of theApennines, was the battle-field of tyrants, whose title wasillegitimate--based, that is to say, on no feudal principle, derived inno regular manner from the Empire, but generally held as a gift orextorted as a prize from the predominant parties in the great towns. 

 [1] So late as 1526 we find the burlesque poet Folengo exclaiming (_Orlandino_, ii. 59)--

 Chè se non fusser le gran parti in quella, Dominerebbe il mondo Italia bella. 

If we examine the constitution of these tyrannies, we find abundantproofs of their despotic nature. The succession from father to son wasalways uncertain. Legitimacy of birth was hardly respected. The last LaScalas were bastards. The house of Aragon in Naples descended from abastard. Gabriello Visconti shared with his half-brothers the heritageof Gian Galeazzo. The line of the Medici was continued by princes ofmore than doubtful origin. Suspicion rested on the birth of Frederick ofUrbino. The houses of Este and Malatesta honored their bastards in thesame degree as their lawful progeny. The great family of the Bentivogliat Bologna owed their importance at the end of the fifteenth century toan obscure and probably spurious pretender, dragged from thewool-factories of Florence by the policy of Cosimo de' Medici. The sonsof popes ranked with the proudest of aristocratic families. Nobility wasless regarded in the choice of a ruler than personal ability. Poweronce acquired was maintained by force, and the history of the rulingfamilies is one long catalogue of crimes. Yet the cities thus governedwere orderly and prosperous. Police regulations were carefullyestablished and maintained by governors whose interest it was to rule aquiet state. Culture was widely diffused without regard to rank orwealth. Public edifices of colossal grandeur were multiplied. Meanwhilethe people at large were being fashioned to that self-conscious andintelligent activity which is fostered by the modes of life peculiar topolitical and social centers in a condition of continued rivalry andchange. 

Under the Italian despotisms we observe nearly the opposite of all theinfluences brought to bear in the same period upon the nations of theNorth. There is no gradual absorption of the great vassals inmonarchies, no fixed allegiance to a reigning dynasty, no feudal aid ormilitary service attached to the tenure of the land, no tendency tocentralize the whole intellectual activity of the race in any capital, no suppression of individual character by strongly biased publicfeeling, by immutable law, or by the superincumbent weight of a socialhierarchy. Everything, on the contrary, tends to the free emergence ofpersonal passions and personal aims. Though the vassals of the despotare neither his soldiers nor his loyal lieges, but his courtiers andtaxpayers, the continual object of his cruelty and fear, yet eachsubject has the chance of becoming a prince like Sforza or a companionof princes like Petrarch. Equality of servitude goes far to democratizea nation, and common hatred of the tyrant leads to the combination ofall classes against him. Thence follows the fermentation of arrogant andself-reliant passions in the breasts of the lowest as well as thehighest. [1] The rapid mutations of government teach men to care forthemselves and to depend upon themselves alone in the battle of theworld; while the necessity of craft and policy in the conduct ofcomplicated affairs sharpens intelligence. The sanction of all meansthat may secure an end under conditions of social violence encouragesversatility unprejudiced by moral considerations. At the same time thefreely indulged vices of the sovereign are an example of self-indulgenceto the subject, and his need of lawless instruments is a practicalsanction of force in all its forms. Thus to the play of personality, whether in combat with society and rivals, or in the gratification ofindividual caprice, every liberty is allowed. Might is substituted forright, and the sense of law is supplanted by a mere dread of coercion. What is the wonder if a Benvenuto Cellini should be the outcome of thesame society as that which formed a Cesare Borgia? What is the miracleif Italy under these circumstances produced original characters andmany-sided intellects in greater profusion than any other nation at anyother period, with the single exception of Greece on her emergence fromthe age of her despots? It was the misfortune of Italy that the age ofthe despots was succeeded not by an age of free political existence, butby one of foreign servitude. 

 [1] See Guicciardini, 'Dialogo del Reggimento di Firenze, ' _Op. Ined. _ vol. Ii. P. 53, for a critique of the motives of tyrannicide in Italy. 

Frederick II. Was at the same time the last emperor who maintainedimperial sway in Italy in person, and also the beginner of a new systemof government which the despots afterwards pursued. His establishment ofthe Saracen colony at Nocera, as the nucleus of an army ready to fulfillhis orders with scrupulous disregard for Italian sympathies and customs, taught all future rulers to reduce their subjects to a state of unarmedpassivity, and to carry on their wars by the aid of German, English, Swiss, Gascon, Breton, or Hungarian mercenaries, as the case might be. Frederick, again, derived from his Mussulman predecessors in Sicily thearts of taxation to the utmost limits of the national capacity, andfounded a precedent for the levying of tolls by a Catasto or schedule ofthe properties attributed to each individual in the state. He alsodestroyed the self-government of burghs and districts, by retaining forhimself the right to nominate officers, and by establishing a system ofjudicial jurisdiction which derived authority from the throne. Again, heintroduced the example of a prince making profit out of the industriesof his subjects by monopolies and protective duties. In this path he wasfollowed by illustrious successors--especially by Sixtus IV. And AlfonsoII. Of Aragon, who enriched themselves by trafficking in the corn andolive-oil of their famished provinces. Lastly, Frederick established theprecedent of a court formed upon the model of that of Oriental Sultans, in which chamberlains and secretaries took the rank of hereditarynobles, and functions of state were confided to the body-servants of themonarch. This court gave currency to those habits of polite culture, magnificent living, and personal luxury which played so prominent a partin all subsequent Italian despotism. It is tempting to overstrain apoint in estimating the direct influence of Frederick's example. In manyrespects doubtless he was merely somewhat in advance of his age; andwhat we may be inclined to ascribe to him personally, would havefollowed in the natural evolution of events. Yet it remains a fact thathe first realized the type of cultivated despotism which prevailedthroughout Italy in the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries. Italianliterature began in his court, and many Saracenic customs of statecraftwere transmitted through him from Palermo to Lombardy. 

While Frederick foreshadowed the comparatively modern tyrants of thecoming age, his Vicar in the North of Italy, Ezzelino da Romano, represented the atrocities towards which they always tended todegenerate. Regarding himself with a sort of awful veneration as thedivinely appointed scourge of humanity, this monster in his lifetime wasexecrated as an aberration from 'the kindly race of men, ' and after hisdeath he became the hero of a fiendish mythus. But in the succeedingcenturies of Italian history his kind was only too common; theimmorality with which he worked out his selfish aims was systematicallyadopted by princes like the Visconti, and reduced to rule by theoristslike Machiavelli. Ezzelino, a small, pale, wiry man, with terror in hisface and enthusiasm for evil in his heart, lived a foe to luxury, coldto the pathos of children, dead to the enchantment of women. His onepassion was the greed of power, heightened by the lust for blood. Originally a noble of the Veronese Marches, he founded his illegalauthority upon the captaincy of the Imperial party delegated to him byFrederick. Verona, Vicenza, Padua, Feltre, and Belluno made him theircaptain in the Ghibelline interest, conferring on him judicial as wellas military supremacy. How he fearfully abused his power, how a crusadewas preached against him, [1] and how he died in silence, like a boar atbay, rending from his wounds the dressings that his foes had placed tokeep him alive, are notorious matters of history. At Padua alone heerected eight prisons, two of which contained as many as three hundredcaptives each; and though the executioner never ceased to ply his tradethere, they were always full. These dungeons were designed to torture bytheir noisomeness, their want of air and light and space. Ezzelino madehimself terrible not merely by executions and imprisonments but also bymutilations and torments. When he captured Friola he caused thepopulation, of all ages, sexes, occupations, to be deprived of theireyes, noses, and legs, and to be cast forth to the mercy of theelements. On another occasion he walled up a family of princes in acastle and left them to die of famine. Wealth, eminence, and beautyattracted his displeasure no less than insubordination or disobedience. Nor was he less crafty than cruel. Sons betrayed their fathers, friendstheir comrades, under the fallacious safeguard of his promises. Agigantic instance of his scheming was the coup-de-main by which hesucceeded in entrapping 11, 000 Paduan soldiers, only 200 of whom escapedthe miseries of his prisons. Thus by his absolute contempt of law, hisinordinate cruelty, his prolonged massacres, and his infliction ofplagues upon whole peoples, Ezzelino established the ideal in Italy of atyrant marching to his end by any means whatever. In vain was thehumanity of the race revolted by the hideous spectacle. Vainly did themonks assemble pity-stricken multitudes upon the plain of Paquara toatone with tears and penitence for the insults offered to the saints inheaven by Ezzelino's fury. It laid a deep hold upon the Italianimagination, and, by the glamor of loathing that has strength tofascinate, proved in the end contagious. We are apt to ask ourselveswhether such men are mad--whether in the case of a Nero or a Maréchalde Retz or an Ezzelino the love of evil and the thirst for blood are nota monomaniacal perversion of barbarous passions which even in a cannibalare morbid. [2] Is there in fact such a thing as Hæmatomania, Bloodmadness? But if we answer this question in the affirmative, weshall have to place how many Visconti, Sforzeschi, Malatesti, Borgias, Farnesi, and princes of the houses of Anjou and Aragon in the list ofthese maniacs? Ezzelino was indeed only the first of a long and horribleprocession, the most terror-striking because the earliest, prefiguringall the rest. 

 [1] Alexander IV. Issued letters for this crusade in 1255. It was preached next year by the Archbishop of Ravenna. 

 [2] See Appendix, No. I. 

Ezzelino's cruelty was no mere Berserkir fury or Lycanthropia comingover him in gusts and leaving him exhausted. It was steady andcontinuous. In his madness, if such we may call this inhumanity, therewas method; he used it to the end of the consolidation of his tyranny. Yet, inasmuch as it passed all limits and prepared his downfall, it maybe said to have obtained over his nature the mastery of an insaneappetite. While applying the nomenclature of disease to theseexceptional monsters, we need not allow that their atrocities were, atfirst at any rate, beyond their control. Moral insanity is often nothingmore than the hypertrophy of some vulgar passion--lust, violence, cruelty, jealousy, and the like. The tyrant, placed above law and lessinfluenced by public opinion than a private person, may easily allow agreed for pleasure or a love of bloodshed to acquire morbid proportionsin his nature. He then is not unjustly termed a monomaniac. Within thecircle of his vitiated appetite he proves himself irrational. He becomesthe puppet of passions which the sane man cannot so much as picture tohis fancy, the victim of desire, ever recurring and ever destined toremain unsatisfied; nor is any hallucination more akin to lunacy thanthe mirage of a joy that leaves the soul thirstier than it was before, the paroxysm of unnatural pleasure which wearies the nerves that cravefor it. 

In Frederick, the modern autocrat, and Ezzelino, the legendary tyrant, we obtain the earliest specimens of two types of despotism in Italy. Their fame long after their death powerfully affected the fancy of thepeople, worked itself into the literature of the Italians, and created aconsciousness of tyranny in the minds of irresponsible rulers. 

During the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries we find, roughly speaking, six sorts of despots in Italian cities. [1] Of these the _first_ class, which is a very small one, had a dynastic or hereditary right accruingfrom long seignioral possession of their several districts. The mosteminent are the houses of Montferrat and Savoy, the Marquises ofFerrara, the Princes of Urbino. At the same time it is difficult to knowwhere to draw the line between such hereditary lordship as that of theEste family, and tyranny based on popular favor. The Malatesti ofRimini, Polentani of Ravenna, Manfredi of Faenza, Ordelaffi of Forli, Chiavelli of Fabriano, Varani of Camerino, and others, might claim torank among the former, since their cities submitted to them without along period of republican independence like that which precededdespotism in the cases to be next mentioned. Yet these families styledthemselves Captains of the burghs they ruled; and in many instances theyobtained the additional title of Vicars of the Church. [2] Even theEstensi were made hereditary captains of Ferrara at the end of thethirteenth century, while they also acknowledged the supremacy of thePapacy. There was in fact no right outside the Empire in Italy; anddespots of whatever origin or complexion gladly accepted the supportwhich a title derived from the Empire, the Church, or the People mightgive. Brought to the front amid the tumults of the civil wars, andaccepted as pacificators of the factions by the multitude, they gainedthe confirmation of their anomalous authority by representing themselvesto be lieutenants or vicegerents of the three great powers. The _second_class comprise those nobles who obtained the title of Vicars of theEmpire, and built an illegal power upon the basis of imperial right inLombardy. Of these, the Della Scala and Visconti families areillustrious instances. Finding in their official capacity a ready-madefoundation, they extended it beyond its just limits, and in defiance ofthe Empire constituted dynasties. The _third_ class is important. Noblescharged with military or judicial power, as Capitani or Podestàs, by thefree burghs, used their authority to enslave the cities they were chosento administer. It was thus that almost all the numerous tyrants ofLombardy, Carraresi at Padua, Gonzaghi at Mantua, Rossi and Correggi atParma, Torrensi and Visconti at Milan, Scotti at Piacenza, and so forth, first erected their despotic dynasties. This fact in the history ofItalian tyranny is noticeable. The font of honor, so to speak, was inthe citizens of these great burghs. Therefore, when the limits ofauthority delegated to their captains by the people were overstepped, the sway of the princes became confessedly illegal. Illegality carriedwith it all the consequences of an evil conscience, all the insecuritiesof usurped dominion all the danger from without and from within to whichan arbitrary governor is exposed. In the _fourth_ class we find theprinciple of force still more openly at work. To it may be assignedthose Condottieri who made a prey of cities at their pleasure. Theillustrious Uguccione della Faggiuola, who neglected to follow up hisvictory over the Guelfs at Monte Catini, in order that he might cementhis power in Lucca and Pisa, is an early instance of this kind oftyrant. His successor, Castruccio Castracane, the hero of Machiavelli'sromance, is another. But it was not until the first half of thefifteenth century that professional Condottieri became powerful enoughto found such kingdoms as that, for example, of Francesco Sforza atMilan. [3] The _fifth_ class includes the nephews or sons of Popes. TheRiario principality of Forli, the Della Rovere of Urbino, the Borgia ofRomagna, the Farnese of Parma, form a distinct species of despotisms;but all these are of a comparatively late origin. Until the Papacies ofSixtus IV. And Innocent VIII. The Popes had not bethought them ofproviding in this way for their relatives. Also, it may be remarked, there was an essential weakness in these tyrannies. Since they had to becarved out of the States of the Church, the Pope who had established hisson, say in Romagna, died before he could see him well confirmed in aprovince which the next Pope sought to wrest from his hands, in order tobestow it on his own favorite. The fabric of the Church could not longhave stood this disgraceful wrangling between Papal families for thedynastic possession of Church property. Luckily for the continuance ofthe Papacy, the tide of counter-reformation which set in after the sackof Rome and the great Northern Schism, put a stop to nepotism in itsmost barefaced form. 

 [1] This classification must of necessity be imperfect, since many of the tyrannies belong in part to two or more of the kinds which I have mentioned. 

 [2] See Guicc. _Ist. _ end of Book 4. 

 [3] John Hawkwood (died 1393), the English adventurer, held Cotignola and Bagnacavallo from Gregory XI. In the second half of the fifteenth century the efforts of the Condottieri to erect tyrannies were most frequent. Braccio da Montone established himself in Perugia in 1416, and aspired, not without good grounds for hope, to acquiring the kingdom of Italy. Francesco Sforza, before gaining Milan, had begun to form a despotism at Ancona. Sforza's rival, Giacomo Piccinino, would probably have succeeded in his own attempt, had not Ferdinand of Aragon treacherously murdered him at Naples in 1465. In the disorganization caused by Charles VIII. , Vidovero of Brescia in 1495 established himself at Cesena and Castelnuovo, and had to be assassinated by Pandolfo Malatesta at the instigation of Venice. After the death of Gian Galeazzo Visconti, in 1402, the generals whom he had employed in the consolidation of his vast dominions attempted to divide the spoil among themselves. Naples, Venice, Milan, Rome, and Florence were in course of time made keenly alive to the risk of suffering a captain of adventure to run his course unchecked. 

There remains the _sixth_ and last class of despots to be mentioned. This again is large and of the first importance. Citizens of eminence, like the Medici at Florence, the Bentivogli at Bologna, the Baglioni ofPerugia, the Vitelli of Città di Castello, the Gambacorti of Pisa, likePandolfo Petrucci in Siena (1502), Roméo Pepoli, the usurer of Bologna(1323), the plebeian, Alticlinio, and Agolanti of Padua (1313), GiovanniVignate, the millionaire of Lodi (1402), acquired more than their dueweight in the conduct of affairs, and gradually tended to tyranny. Inmost of these cases great wealth was the original source of despoticascendency. It was not uncommon to buy cities together with theirSignory. Thus the Rossi bought Parma for 35, 000 florins in 1333; theAppiani sold Pisa; Astorre Manfredi sold Faenza and Imola in 1377. In1444 Galeazzo Malatesta sold Pesaro to Alessandro Sforza, andFossombrone to Urbino; in 1461 Cervia was sold to Venice by the samefamily. Franceschetto Cibo purchased the County of Anguillara. Towns atlast came to have their market value. It was known that Bologna wasworth 200, 000 florins, Parma 60, 000, Arezzo 40, 000 Lucca 30, 000, and soforth. But personal qualities and nobility of blood might also producedespots of the sixth class. Thus the Bentivogli claimed descent from abastard of King Enzo, son of Frederick II. , who was for a long time anhonorable prisoner in Bologna. The Baglioni, after a protracted strugglewith the rival family of Oddi, owed their supremacy to ability and vigorin the last years of the fifteenth century. But the neighborhood of thePapal power, and their own internal dissensions, rendered the hold ofthis family upon Perugia precarious. As in the case of the Medici andthe Bentivogli, many generations might elapse before such burgherfamilies assumed dynastic authority. But to this end they were alwaysadvancing. 

The history of the bourgeois despots proves that Italy in the fifteenthcentury was undergoing a natural process of determination towardtyranny. Sismondi may attempt to demonstrate that Italy was 'notanswerable for the crimes with which she was sullied by her tyrants. 'But the facts show that she was answerable for choosing despots insteadof remaining free, or rather that she instinctively obeyed a law ofsocial evolution by which princes had to be substituted formunicipalities at the end of those fierce internal conflicts andexhausting wars of jealousy which closed the Middle Ages. Machiavelli, with all his love of liberty, is forced to admit that in his day themost powerful provinces of Italy had become incapable of freedom. 'Noaccident, however weighty and violent, could ever restore Milan orNaples to liberty, owing to their utter corruption. This is clear fromthe fact that after the death of Filippo Visconti, when Milan tried toregain freedom, she was unable to preserve it. '[1] Whether Machiavelliis right in referring this incapacity for self-government to thecorruption of morals and religion may be questioned. But it is certainthat throughout the states of Italy, with the one exception of Venice, causes were at work inimical to republics and favorable to despotisms. 

 [1] _Discorsi_, i. 17. The Florentine philosopher remarks in the same passage, 'Cities, once corrupt, and accustomed to the rule of a prince, can never acquire their freedom even though the prince with all his kith and kin be extirpated. One prince is needed to extinguish another; and the city has no rest except by the creation of a new lord, unless one burgher by his goodness and his great qualities may chance to preserve its independence during his lifetime. '

It will be observed in this classification of Italian tyrants that thetenure of their power was almost uniformly forcible. They generallyacquired it through the people in the first instance, and maintained itby the exercise of violence. Rank had nothing to do with their claims. The bastards of Popes, who like Sixtus IV. Had no pedigree, merchantslike the Medici, the son of a peasant like Francesco Sforza, a richusurer like Pepoli, had almost equal chances with nobles of the ancienthouses of Este, Visconti, or Malatesta. The chief point in favor of thelatter was the familiarity which through long years of authority hadaccustomed the people to their rule. When exiled, they had a betterchance of return to power than parvenus, whose party-cry and ensignswere comparatively fresh and stirred no sentiment of loyalty--if indeedthe word loyalty can be applied to that preference for the establishedand the customary which made the mob, distracted by the wrangling ofdoctrinaires and intriguers, welcome back a Bentivoglio or a Malatesta. Despotism in Italy as in ancient Greece was democratic. It recruited itsranks from all classes and erected its thrones upon the sovereignty ofthe peoples it oppressed. The impulse to the free play of ambitiousindividuality which this state of things communicated was enormous. Capacity might raise the meanest monk to the chair of S. Peter's, themeanest soldier to the duchy of Milan. Audacity, vigor, unscrupulouscrime were the chief requisites for success. It was not till CesareBorgia displayed his magnificence at the French Court, till the Italianadventurer matched himself with royalty in its legitimate splendor, thatthe lowness of his origin and the frivolity of his pretensions appearedin any glaring light. [1] In Italy itself, where there existed notime-honored hierarchy of classes and no fountain of nobility in theperson of a sovereign, one man was a match for another, provided he knewhow to assert himself. To the conditions of a society based on theseprinciples we may ascribe the unrivaled emergence of greatpersonalities among the tyrants, as well as the extraordinary tenacityand vigor of such races as the Visconti. In the contest for power, andin the maintenance of an illegal authority, the picked athletes came tothe front. The struggle by which they established their tyranny, theefforts by which they defended it against foreign foes and domesticadversaries, trained them to endurance and to daring. They livedhabitually in an atmosphere of peril which taxed all their energies. Their activity was extreme, and their passions corresponded to theirvehement vitality. About such men there could be nothing on a small ormediocre scale. When a weakling was born in a despotic family, hisbrothers murdered him, or he was deposed by a watchful rival. Thus onlygladiators of tried capacity and iron nerve, superior to religious andmoral scruples, dead to national affection, perfected in perfidy, scientific in the use of cruelty and terror, employing first-ratefaculties of brain and will and bodily powers in the service oftranscendent egotism, only the _virtuosi_ of political craft astheorized by Machiavelli, could survive and hold their own upon thisperilous arena. 

 [1] Brantôme _Capitaines Etrangers_, Discours 48, gives an account of the entrance of the Borgia into Chinon in 1498, and adds: 'The king being at the window saw him arrive, and there can be no doubt how he and his courtiers ridiculed all this state, as unbecoming the petty Duke of Valentinois. '

The life of the despot was usually one of prolonged terror. Immured instrong places on high rocks, or confined to gloomy fortresses like theMilanese Castello, he surrounded his person with foreign troops, protected his bedchamber with a picked guard, and watched his meat anddrink lest they should be poisoned. His chief associates were artists, men of letters, astrologers, buffoons, and exiles. He had no realfriends or equals, and against his own family he adopted an attitude offierce suspicion, justified by the frequent intrigues to which he wasexposed. [1] His timidity verged on monomania. Like Alfonso II. OfNaples, he was tortured with the ghosts of starved or strangled victims;like Ezzelino, he felt the mysterious fascination of astrology; likeFilippo Maria Visconti, he trembled at the sound of thunder, and set oneband of body-guards to watch another next his person. He dared not hopefor a quiet end. No one believed in the natural death of a prince:princes must be poisoned or poignarded. [2] Out of thirteen of theCarrara family, in little more than a century (1318-1435), three weredeposed or murdered by near relatives, one was expelled by a rival fromhis state, four were executed by the Venetians. Out of five of the LaScala family, three were killed by their brothers, and a fourth waspoisoned in exile. 

 [1] See what Guicciardini in his _History of Florence_ says about the suspicious temper of even such a tyrant as the cultivated and philosophical Lorenzo de' Medici. See too the incomparably eloquent and penetrating allegory of _Sospetto_, and its application to the tyrants of Italy in Ariosto's _Cinque Canti_ (C. 2. St. 1-9). 

 [2] Our dramatist Webster, whose genius was fascinated by the crimes of Italian despotism, makes the Duke of Bracciano exclaim on his death-bed:--

 'O thou soft natural Death, thou art joint-twin To sweetest Slumber! no rough-bearded comet Stares on thy mild departure; the dull owl Beats not against thy casement; the hoarse wolf Scents not thy carrion: pity winds thy corse, Whilst horror waits on princes. '

 Instances of domestic crime might be multiplied by the hundred. Besides those which will follow in these pages, it is enough to notice the murder of Giovanni Francesco Pico, by his nephew, at Mirandola (1533); the murder of his uncle by Oliverotto da Fermo; the assassination of Giovanni Varano by his brothers at Camerino (1434); Ostasio da Polenta's fratricide (1322); Obizzo da Polenta's fratricide in the next generation, and the murder of Ugolino Gonzaga by his brothers; Gian Francesco Gonzaga's murder of his wife; the poisoning of Francesco Sforza's first wife, Polissena, Countess of Montalto, with her little girl, by her aunt; and the murder of Galeotto Manfredi, by his wife, at Faenza (1488). 

To enumerate all the catastrophes of reigning families, occurring in thefifteenth century alone, would be quite impossible within the limits ofthis chapter. Yet it is only by dwelling on the more important that anyadequate notion of the perils of Italian despotism can be formed. ThusGirolamo Riario was murdered by his subjects at Forli (1488), andFrancesco Vico dei Prefetti in the Church of S. Sisto at Viterbo[1](1387). At Lodi in 1402 Antonio Fisiraga burned the chief members of theruling house of Vistarini on the public square, and died himself ofpoison after a few months. His successor in the tyranny, GiovanniVignate, was imprisoned by Filippo Maria Visconti in a wooden cage atPavia, and beat his brains out in despair against its bars. At the sameepoch Gabrino Fondulo slaughtered seventy of the Cavalcabò familytogether in his castle of Macastormo, with the purpose of acquiringtheir tyranny over Cremona. He was afterwards beheaded as a traitor atMilan (1425). Ottobon Terzi was assassinated at Parma (1408), NicolaBorghese at Siena (1499). Altobello Dattiri at Todi (about 1500), Raimondo and Pandolfo Malatesta at Rimini, and Oddo Antonio diMontefeltro at Urbino (1444). [2] The Varani were massacred to a man inthe Church of S. Dominic at Camerino (1434), the Trinci at Foligno(1434), and the Chiavelli of Fabriano in church upon Ascension Day(1435). This wholesale extirpation of three reigning families introducesone of the most romantic episodes in the history of Italian despotism. From the slaughter of the Varani one only child, Giulio Cesare, a boy oftwo years old, was saved by his aunt Tora. She concealed him in a trussof hay and carried him to the Trinci at Foligno. Hardly had she gainedthis refuge, when the Trinci were destroyed, and she had to fly with herburden to the Chiavelli at Fabriano. There the same scenes of bloodshedawaited her. A third time she took to flight, and now concealed herprecious charge in a nunnery. The boy was afterwards stolen from thetown on horseback by a soldier of adventure. After surviving threemassacres of kith and kin, he returned as despot at the age of twelve toCamerino, and became a general of distinction. But he was not destinedto end his life in peace. Cesare Borgia finally murdered him, togetherwith three of his sons, when he had reached the age of sixty. Lessromantic but not less significant in the annals of tyranny is the storyof the Trinci. A rival noble of Foligno, Pietro Rasiglia, had beeninjured in his honor by the chief of the ruling house. He contrived toassassinate two brothers, Nicolà and Bartolommeo, in his castle ofNocera; but the third, Corrado Trinci, escaped, and took a fearfulvengeance on his enemy. By the help of Braccio da Montone he possessedhimself of Nocera and all its inhabitants, with the exception of PietroRasiglia's wife, whom her husband flung from the battlements. Corradothen butchered the men, women, and children of the Rasiglia clan, to thenumber of three hundred persons, accomplishing his vengeance withdetails of atrocity too infernal to be dwelt on in these pages. It isrecorded that thirty-six asses laden with their mangled limbs paradedthe streets of Foligno as a terror-striking spectacle for theinhabitants. He then ruled the city by violence, until the warlikeCardinal dei Vitelleschi avenged society of so much mischief bydestroying the tyrant and five of his sons, in the same year. Equallyfantastic are the annals of the great house of the Baglioni at Perugia. Raised in 1389 upon the ruins of the bourgeois faction called Raspanti, they founded their tyranny in the person of Pandolfo Baglioni, who wasmurdered together with sixty of his clan and followers by the partythey had dispossessed. The new despot, Biordo Michelotti, was stabbed inthe shoulders with a poisoned dagger by his relative, the abbot of S. Pietro. Then the city, in 1416, submitted to Braccio da Montone, whoraised it to unprecedented power and glory. On his death it fell backinto new discords, from which it was rescued again by the Baglioni in1466, now finally successful in their prolonged warfare with the rivalfamily of Oddi. But they did not hold their despotism in tranquillity. In 1500 one of the members of the house, Grifonetto degli Baglioni, conspired against his kinsmen and slew them in their palaces at night. As told by Matarazzo, this tragedy offers an epitome of all that ismost, brilliant and terrible in the domestic feuds of the Italiantyrants. [3] The vicissitudes of the Bentivogli at Bologna presentanother series of catastrophes, due less to their personal crimes thanto the fury of the civil strife that raged around them. GiovanniBentivoglio began the dynasty in 1400. The next year he was stabbed todeath and pounded in a wine-vat by the infuriated populace, who thoughthe had betrayed their interests in battle. His son, Antonio, wasbeheaded by a Papal Legate, and numerous members of the family on theirreturn from exile suffered the same fate. In course of time theBentivogli made themselves adored by the people; and when Piccininoimprisoned the heir of their house, Annibale, in the castle of Varano, four youths of the Marescotti family undertook his rescue at the perilof their lives, and raised him to the Signory of Bologna. In 1445 theCanetoli, powerful nobles, who hated the popular dynasty, invitedAnnibale and all his clan to a christening feast, where theyexterminated every member of the reigning house. Not one Bentivoglio wasleft alive. In revenge for this massacre, the Marescotti, aided by thepopulace, hunted down the Canetoli for three whole days in Bologna, andnailed their smoking hearts to the doors of the Bentivoglio palace. Theythen drew from his obscurity in Florence the bastard Santi Bentivoglio, who found himself suddenly lifted from a wool-factory to a throne. Whether he was a genuine Bentivoglio or not, mattered little. The househad become necessary to Bologna, and its popularity had been baptized inthe bloodshed of four massacres. What remains of its story can bebriefly told. When Cesare Borgia besieged Bologna, the Marescottiintrigued with him, and eight of their number were sacrificed by theBentivogli in spite of their old services to the dynasty. The survivors, by the help of Julius II. , returned from exile in 1536, to witness thefinal banishment of the Bentivogli and to take part in the destructionof the palace, where their ancestors had nailed the hearts of theCanetoli upon the walls. 

 [1] The family of the Prefetti fed up the murderer in their castle and then gave him alive to be eaten by their hounds. 

 [2] Sforza Attendolo killed Terzi by a spear-thrust in the back. Pandolfo Petrucci murdered Borghese, who was his father-in-law. Raimondo Malatesta was stabbed by his two nephews disguised as hermits. Dattiri was bound naked to a plank and killed piecemeal by the people, who bit his flesh, cut slices out, and sold and ate it--distributing his living body as a sort of infernal sacrament among themselves. 

 [3] See the article 'Perugia' in my _Sketches in Italy and Greece_. 

To multiply the records of crime revenged by crime, of force repelledby violence, of treason heaped on treachery, of insult repaid by fraud, would be easy enough. Indeed, a huge book might be compiled containingnothing but the episodes in this grim history of despotism, now tragicand pathetic, now terror-moving in sublimity of passion, now despicableby the baseness of the motives brought to light, at one time revoltingthrough excess of physical horrors, at another fascinating by thespectacle of heroic courage, intelligence, and resolution. Enoughhowever, has been said to describe the atmosphere of danger in which thetyrants breathed and moved, and from which not one of them was evercapable of finding freedom. Even a princely house so well based in itsdynasty and so splendid in its parade of culture as that of the Estensioffers a long list of terrific tragedies. One princess is executed foradultery with her stepson (1425); a bastard's bastard tries to seize thethrone, and is put to death with all his kin (1493); a wife is poisonedby her husband to prevent her poisoning him (1493); two brothers cabalagainst the legitimate heads of the house, and are imprisoned for life(1506). Such was the labyrinth of plot and counterplot, of forcerepelled by violence, in which the princes praised by Ariosto and byTasso lived. 

Isolated, crime-haunted, and remorseless, at the same time fierce andtimorous, the despot not unfrequently made of vice a fine art for hisamusement, and openly defied humanity. His pleasures tended toextravagance. Inordinate lust and refined cruelty sated his irritableand jaded appetites. He destroyed pity in his soul, and fed his dogswith living men, or spent his brains upon the invention of new tortures. From the game of politics again he won a feverish pleasure, playing forstates and cities as a man plays chess, and endeavoring to extract theutmost excitement from the varying turns of skill and chance. It wouldbe an exaggeration to assert that all the princes of Italy were of thissort. The saner, better, and nobler among them--men of the stamp of GianGaleazzo Visconti, Can Grande della Scala, Francesco and LodovicoSforza, found a more humane enjoyment in the consolidation of theirempire, the cementing of their alliances, the society of learned men, the friendship of great artists, the foundation of libraries, thebuilding of palaces and churches, the execution of vast schemes ofconquest. Others, like Galeazzo Visconti, indulged a comparativelyinnocent taste for magnificence. Some, like Sigismondo PandolfoMalatesta, combined the vices of a barbarian with the enthusiasm of ascholar. Others again, like Lorenzo de' Medici and Frederick of Urbino, exhibited the model of moderation in statecraft and a noble width ofculture. But the tendency to degenerate was fatal in all the despotichouses. The strain of tyranny proved too strong. Crime, illegality, andthe sense of peril, descending from father to son, produced monsters inthe shape of men. The last Visconti, the last La Scalas, the lastSforzas, the last Malatestas, the last Farnesi, the last Medici areamong the worst specimens of human nature. 

Macaulay's brilliant description of the Italian tyrant in his essay onMachiavelli deserves careful study. It may, however, be remarked thatthe picture is too favorable. Macaulay omits the darker crimes of thedespots, and draws his portrait almost exclusively from such men as GianGaleazzo Visconti, Francesco and Lodovico Sforza, Frederick of Urbino, and Lorenzo de' Medici. The point he is seeking to establish--thatpolitical immorality in Italy was the national correlative to Northernbrutality--leads him to idealize the polite refinement, the disciplinedpassions, the firm and astute policy, the power over men, and theexcellent government which distinguished the noblest Italian princes. When he says 'Wanton cruelty was not in his nature: on the contrary, where no political object was at stake, his disposition was soft andhumane'; he seems to have forgotten Gian Maria Visconti, Corrado Trinci, Sigismondo Pandolfo Malatesta, and Cesare Borgia. When he writes, 'Hispassions, like well-trained troops, are impetuous by rule, and in theirmost headstrong fury never forget the discipline to which they have beenaccustomed, ' he leaves Francesco Maria della Rovere, Galeazzo MariaSforza, Pier Luigi Farnese, Alexander VI. , out of the reckoning. If allthe despots had been what Macaulay describes, the revolutions andconspiracies of the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries would not havetaken place. It is, however, to be remarked that in the sixteenthcentury the conduct of the tyrant toward his subjects assumed anexternal form of mildness. As Italy mixed with the European nations, andas tyranny came to be legalized in the Italian states, the despotsdeveloped a policy not of terrorism but of enervation (Lorenzo de'Medici is the great example), and aspired to be paternal governors. 

What I have said about Italian despotism is no mere fancy picture. Theactual details of Milanese history, the innumerable tragedies ofLombardy, Romagna, and the Marches of Ancona, during the ascendency ofdespotic families, are far more terrible than any fiction; nor would itbe easy for the imagination to invent so perplexing a mixture of savagebarbarism with modern refinement. Savonarola's denunciations[1] andVillani's descriptions of a despot read like passages from Plato'sRepublic, like the most pregnant of Aristotle's criticisms upon tyranny. The prologue to the sixth book of Matteo Villani's Chronicle may becited as a fair specimen of the judgment passed by contemporary Italianthinkers upon their princes (Libro Sesto, cap. I. ): 'The crimes ofdespots always hinder and often neutralize the virtues of good men. Their pleasures are at variance with morality. By them the riches oftheir subjects are swallowed up. They are foes to men who grow inwisdom and in greatness of soul in their dominions. They diminish bytheir imposts the wealth of the peoples ruled by them. Their unbridledlust is never satiated, but their subjects have to suffer such outragesand insults as their fancy may from time to time suggest. But inasmuchas the violence of tyranny is manifested to all eyes by these and manyother atrocities, we need not enumerate them afresh. It is enough toselect one feature, strange in appearance but familiar in fact; for whatcan be more extraordinary than to see princes of ancient and illustriouslineage bowing to the service of despots, men of high descent andtime-honored nobility frequenting their tables and accepting theirbounties? Yet if we consider the end of all this, the glory of tyrantsoften turns to misery and ruin. Who can exaggerate their wretchedness?They know not where to place their confidence; and their courtiers arealways on the lookout for the despot's fall, gladly lending theirinfluence and best endeavors to undo him in spite of previous servility. This does not happen to hereditary kings, because their conduct towardtheir subjects, as well as their good qualities and all theircircumstances, are of a nature contrary to that of tyrants. Thereforethe very causes which produce and fortify and augment tyrannies, concealand nourish in themselves the sources of their overthrow and ruin. Thisindeed is the greatest wretchedness of tyrants. '

 [1] See the passage condensed from his Sermons in Villari's Life of Savonarola (Eng. Tr. Vol. Ii. P. 62). The most thorough-going analysis of despotic criminality is contained in Savonarola's _Tractato circa el Reggimento e Governo della Città di Firenze_, Trattato ii. Cap. 2. _Della Malitia e pessime Conditioni del Tyranno_. 

It may be objected that this sweeping criticism, from the pen of aFlorentine citizen at war with Milan, partakes of the nature of aninvective. Yet abundant proofs can be furnished from the chronicles ofburghs which owed material splendor to their despots, confirming thecensure of Villani. Matarazzo, for example, whose sympathy with thehouse of Baglioni is so striking, and who exults in the distinction theyconferred upon Perugia, writes no less bitterly concerning thepernicious effects of their misgovernment. [1] It is to be noticed thatVillani and Matarazzo agree about the special evils brought upon thepopulations by their tyrants. Lust and violence take the first place. Next comes extortion; then the protection of the lawless and thecriminal against the better sort of citizens. But the Florentine, withintellectual acumen, lays his finger on one of the chief vices of theirrule. They retard the development of mental greatness in their states, and check the growth of men of genius. Ariosto, in the comparative calmof the sixteenth century, when tyrannies had yielded to the protectorateof Spain, sums up the records of the past in the following memorablepassage:[2] 'Happy the kingdoms where an open-hearted and blameless mangives law! Wretched indeed and pitiable are those where injustice andcruelty hold sway, where burdens ever greater and more grievous are laidupon the people by tyrants like those who now abound in Italy, whoseinfamy will be recorded through years to come as no less black thanCaligula's or Nero's. ' Guicciardini, with pregnant brevity, observes:[3]'The mortar with which the states of the tyrants are cemented is theblood of the citizens. '

 [1] Arch. Stor. Xvi. 102. See my _Sketches in Italy and Greece_, p. 84. 

 [2] Cinque Canti, ii. 5. 

 [3] Ricordi Politici, ccxlii. 

In the history of Italian despotism two points of first-rate importancewill demand attention. The first is the process by which the greatertyrannies absorbed the smaller during the fourteenth century. The secondis the relation of the chief Condottieri to the tyrants of the fifteenthcentury. The evolution of these two phenomena cannot be traced moreclearly than by a study of the history of Milan, which at the same timepresents a detailed picture of the policy and character of the Italiandespot during this period. The dynasties of Visconti and Sforza from1300 to 1500 bridged over the years that intervened between the MiddleAge and the Renaissance, between the period of the free burghs and theperiod during which Italy was destined to become the theater of theaction of more powerful nations. Their alliances and diplomaticrelations prepared the way for the interference of foreigners in Italianaffairs. Their pedigree illustrates the power acquired by militaryadventurers in the peninsula. The magnitude of their political schemesdisplays the most soaring ambition which it was ever granted to Italianprinces to indulge. The splendor of their court and the intelligence oftheir culture bear witness to the high state of civilization which theItalians had reached. 

The power of the Visconti in Milan was founded upon that of the DellaTorre family, who preceded them as Captains General of the people at theend of the thirteenth century. Otho, Archbishop of Milan, first laid asubstantial basis for the dominion of his house by imprisoning NapoleoneDella Torre and five of his relatives in three iron cages in 1277, andby causing his nephew Matteo Visconti to be nominated both by theEmperor and by the people of Milan as imperial Vicar. Matteo, who headedthe Ghibelline party in Lombardy, was the model of a prudent Italiandespot. From the date 1311, when he finally succeeded in his attemptsupon the sovereignty of Milan, to 1322, when he abdicated in favor ofhis son Galeazzo, he ruled his states by force of character, craft, andinsight, more than by violence or cruelty. Excellent as a general, hewas still better as a diplomatist, winning more cities by money than bythe sword. All through his life, as became a Ghibelline chief at thattime, he persisted in fierce enmity against the Church. But just beforehis death a change came over him. He showed signs of superstitiousterror, and began to fear the ban of excommunication which lay upon him. This weakness alarmed the suspicions of his sons, terrible and wolf-likemen, whom Matteo had hitherto controlled with bit and bridle. Theytherefore induced him to abdicate in 1322, and when in the same year hedied, they buried his body in a secret place, lest it should be exhumed, and scattered to the winds in accordance with the Papal edict againsthim. [1] Galeazzo, his son, was less fortunate than Matteo, surnamed IlGrande by the Lombards. The Emperor Louis of Bavaria threw him intoprison on the occasion of his visit to Milan in 1327, and only releasedhim at the intercession of his friend Castruccio Castracane. To such anextent was the growing tyranny of the Visconti still dependent upontheir office delegated from the Empire. This Galeazzo married Beatriced' Este, the widow of Nino di Gallura, of whom Dante speaks in theeighth canto of the Purgatory, and had by her a son named Azzo. Azzobought the city, together with the title of Imperial Vicar, from thesame Louis who had imprisoned his father. [2] When he was thus seated inthe tyranny of his grandfather, he proceeded to fortify it further bythe addition of ten Lombard towns, which he reduced beneath thesupremacy of Milan. At the same time he consolidated his own power bythe murder of his uncle Marco in 1329, who had grown too mighty as ageneral. Giovio describes him as fair of complexion, blue-eyed, curly-haired, and subject to the hereditary disease of gout. [3] Azzodied in 1339, and was succeeded by his uncle Lucchino. In Lucchino thedarker side of the Visconti character appears for the first time. Cruel, moody, and jealous, he passed his life in perpetual terror. His nephews, Galeazzo and Barnabas, conspired against him, and were exiled toFlanders. His wife, Isabella Fieschi, intrigued with Galeazzo anddisgraced him by her amours with Ugolino Gonzaga and Dandolo the Doge ofVenice. Finally suspicion rose to such a pitch between this ill-assortedcouple, that, while Lucchino was plotting how to murder Isabella, shesucceeded in poisoning him in 1349. In spite of these domesticcalamities, Lucchino was potent as a general and governor. He boughtParma from Obizzo d' Este, and made the town of Pisa dependent uponMilan. Already in his policy we can trace the encroachment whichcharacterized the schemes of the Milanese despots, who were alwaysplotting to advance their foot beyond the Apennines as a prelude to thecomplete subjugation of Italy. Lucchino left sons, but none of provedlegitimacy. [4] Consequently he was succeeded by his brother Giovanni, son of old Matteo il Grande, and Archbishop of Milan. This man, thefriend of Petrarch, was one of the most notable characters of thefourteenth century. Finding himself at the head of sixteen cities, headded Bologna to the tyranny of the Visconti in 1350, and made himselfstrong enough to defy the Pope. Clement VI. , resenting his encroachmentson Papal territory, summoned him to Avignon. Giovanni Visconti repliedthat he would march thither at the head of 12, 000 cavalry and 6, 000infantry. In the Duomo of Milan he ascended his throne with the crosierin his left hand and a drawn sword in his right; and thus he is alwaysrepresented in pictures. The story of Giovanni's answer to the PapalLegate is well told by Corio:[5] 'After Mass in the Cathedral thegreat-hearted Archbishop unsheathed a flashing sword, which he hadgirded on his thigh, and with his left hand seized the cross, saying, "This is my spiritual scepter, and I will wield the sword as mytemporal, in defense of all my empire. "' Afterwards he sent couriers toengage lodgings for his soldiers and his train for six months. Visitorsto Avignon found no room in the city, and the Pope was fain to declineso terrible a guest. In 1353 Giovanni annexed Genoa to the Milaneseprincipality, and died in 1354, having established the rule of theVisconti over the whole of the North of Italy, with the exception ofPiedmont, Verona, Mantua, Ferrara and Venice. 

 [1] We may compare what Dante puts into the mouth of Manfred in the 'Purgatory' (canto iii. ). The great Ghibelline poet here protests against the use of excommunication as a political weapon. His sense of justice will not allow him to believe that God can regard the sentence of priests and pontiffs, actuated by the spite of partisans; yet the examples of Frederick II. And of this Matteo Visconti prove how terrifying, even to the boldest, those sentences continued to be. Few had the resolute will of Galeazzo Pico di Mirandola, who expired in 1499 under the ban of the Church, which he had borne for sixteen years. 

 [2] This was in 1328. Azzo agreed to pay 25, 000 florins. The vast wealth of the Visconti amassed during their years of peaceful occupation always stood them in good stead when bad times came, and when the Emperor was short of cash. Azzo deserves special commendation from the student of art for the exquisite octagonal tower of S. Gottardo, which he built of terra cotta with marble pilasters, in Milan. It is quite one of the loveliest monuments of mediæval Italian architecture. 

 [3] Lucchino and Galeazzo Visconti were both afflicted with gout, the latter to such an extent as to be almost crippled. 

 [4] This would not have been by itself a bar to succession in an Italian tyranny. But Lucchino's bastards were not of the proper stuff to continue their father's government, while their fiery uncle was precisely the man to sustain the honor and extend the power of the Visconti. 

 [5] Storia di Milano, 1554, p. 223. 

The reign of the archbishop Giovanni marks a new epoch in the despotismof the Visconti. They are now no longer the successful rivals of theDella Torre family or dependents on imperial caprice, but self-madesovereigns, with a well-established power in Milan and a wide extent ofsubject territory. Their dynasty, though based on force and maintainedby violence, has come to be acknowledged; and we shall soon see themallying themselves with the royal houses of Europe. After the death ofGiovanni, Matteo's sons were extinct. But Stefano, the last of hisfamily, had left three children, who now succeeded to the lands andcities of the house. They were named Matteo, Bernabo, and Galeazzo. Between these three princes a partition of the heritage of GiovanniVisconti was effected. Matteo took Bologna, Lodi, Piacenza, Parma, Bobbio, and some other towns of less importance. Bernabo receivedCremona, Crema, Brescia, and Bergamo. Galeazzo held Como, Novara, Vercelli, Asti, Tortona, and Alessandria. Milan and Genoa were to beruled by the three in common. It may here be noticed that thedismemberment of Italian despotisms among joint-heirs was a notunfrequent source of disturbance and a cause of weakness to theirdynasties. At the same time the practice followed naturally upon theillegal nature of the tyrant's title. He dealt with his cities as somany pieces of personal property, which he could distribute as he chose, not as a coherent whole to be bequeathed to one ruler for the commonbenefit of all his subjects. In consequence of such partition, it becamethe interest of brother to murder brother, so as to effect areconsolidation of the family estates. Something of the sort happened onthis occasion. Matteo abandoned himself to bestial sensuality; and histwo brothers, finding him both feeble and likely to bring discredit ontheir rule, caused him to be assassinated in 1355. [1] They then jointlyswayed the Milanese, with unanimity remarkable in despots. Galeazzo wasdistinguished as the handsomest man of his age. He was tall andgraceful, with golden hair, which he wore in long plaits, or tied up ina net, or else loose and crowned with flowers. Fond of display andmagnificence, he spent much of his vast wealth in shows and festivals, and in the building of palaces and churches. The same taste for splendorled him to seek royal marriages for his children. His daughter Violantewas wedded to the Duke of Clarence, son of Edward III. Of England, whoreceived with her for dowry the sum of 200, 000 golden florins, as wellas five cities bordering on Piedmont. [2] It must have been a strangeexperience for this brother of the Black Prince, leaving London, wherethe streets were still unpaved, the houses thatched, the beds laid onstraw, and where wine was sold as medicine, to pass into the luxuriouspalaces of Lombardy, walled with marble, and raised high above smoothstreets of stone. Of his marriage with Violante Giovio gives somecurious details. He says that Galeazzo on this occasion made splendidpresents to more than 200 Englishmen, so that he was reckoned to haveoutdone the greatest kings in generosity. At the banquet Gian Galeazzo, the bride's brother, leading a choice company of well-born youths, brought to the table with each course fresh gifts. [3] 'At one time itwas a matter of sixty most beautiful horses with trappings of silk andsilver; at another, plate, hawks, hounds, horse-gear, fine cuirasses, suits of armor fashioned of wrought steel, helmets adorned with crests, surcoats embroidered with pearls, belts, precious jewels set in gold, and great quantities of cloth of gold and crimson stuff for makingraiment. Such was the profusion of this banquet that the remnants takenfrom the table were enough and to spare for 10, 000 men. ' Petrarch, wemay remember, assisted at this festival and sat among the princes. Itwas thus that Galeazzo displayed his wealth before the feudal nobles ofthe North, and at the same time stretched the hand of friendly patronageto the greatest literary man of Europe. Meanwhile he also married hisson Gian Galeazzo to Isabella, daughter of King John of France, spendingon this occasion, it is said, a similar sum of money for the honor of aroyal alliance. [4]

 [1] M. Villani, v. 81. Compare Corio, p. 230. Corio gives the date 1356. 

 [2] Namely, Alba, Cuneo, Carastro, Mondovico, Braida. See Corio, p. 238, who adds sententiously, 'il che quasi fu l' ultima roina del suo stato. '

 [3] Corio (pp. 239, 240) gives the bill of fare of the banquet. 

 [4] Sismondi says he gave 600, 000 florins to Charles, the brother of Isabella, but authorities differ about the actual amount. 

Galeazzo held his court at Pavia. His brother reigned at Milan. Bernabodisplayed all the worst vices of the Visconti. His system of taxationwas most oppressive, and at the same time so lucrative that he was able, according to Giovio's estimate, to settle nine of his daughters at anexpense of something like two millions of gold pieces. A curiousinstance of his tyranny relates to his hunting establishment. Havingsaddled his subjects with the keep of 5, 000 boar-hounds, he appointedofficers to go round and see whether these brutes were either too leanor too well-fed to be in good condition for the chase. If anythingappeared defective in their management, the peasants on whom they werequartered had to suffer in their persons and their property. [1] ThisBernabo was also remarkable for his cold-blooded cruelty. Together withhis brother, he devised and caused to be publicly announced by edictthat State criminals would be subjected to a series of torturesextending over the space of forty days. In this infernal programmeevery variety of torment found a place, and days of respite were socalculated as to prolong the lives of the victims for further suffering, till at last there was little left of them that had not been hacked andhewed and flayed away. [2] To such extremities of terrorism were thedespots driven in the maintenance of their illegal power. 

 [1] 'Per cagione di questa caccia continoamente teneva cinque mila cani; e la maggior parte di quelle distribuiva alla custodia de i cittadini, e anche a i contadini, i quali niun altro cane che quelli potevano tenere. Questi due volte il mese erano tenuti a far la mostra. Onde trovandoli macri in gran somma di danari erano condannati, e se grossi erano, incolpandoli del troppo, erano multati; se morivano, li pigliava il tutto. --Corio, p. 247. 

 Read M. Villani, vii. 48, for the story of a peasant who was given to Bernabo's dogs to be devoured for having killed a hare. Corio (p. 247) describes the punishments which he inflicted on his subjects who were convicted of poaching--eyes put out, houses burned, etc. A young man who dreamed of killing a boar had an eye put out and a hand cut off because he imprudently recounted his vision of sport in sleep. On one occasion he burned two friars who ventured to remonstrate. We may compare Pontanus, 'De Immanitate, ' vol. I. Pp. 318, 320, for similar cruelty in Ferdinand, King of Naples. 

 [2] This programme may be read in Sismondi, iv. 282. 

Galeazzo died in 1378, and was succeeded in his own portion of theVisconti domain by his son Gian Galleazzo. Now began one of those long, slow, internecine struggles which were so common between the members ofthe ruling families in Italy. Bernabo and his sons schemed to getpossession of the young prince's estate. He, on the other hand, determined to supplant his uncle, and to reunite the whole Viscontiprincipality beneath his own sway. Craft was the weapon which he chosein this encounter. Shutting himself up in Pavia, he made no disguise ofhis physical cowardice, which was real, while he simulated a timidity ofspirit wholly alien to his temperament. He pretended to be absorbed inreligious observances, and gradually induced his uncle and cousins todespise him as a poor creature whom they could make short work of whenoccasion served. In 1385, having thus prepared the way for treason, heavowed his intention of proceeding on a pilgrimage to Our Lady ofVarese. Starting from Pavia with a body guard of Germans, he passed nearMilan, where his uncle and cousins came forth to meet him. GianGaleazzo feigned a courteous greeting; but when he saw his relativeswithin his grasp, he gave a watchword in German to his troops, whosurrounded Bernabo and took him prisoner with his sons. Gian Galeazzomarched immediately into Milan, poisoned his uncle in a dungeon, andproclaimed himself sole lord of the Visconti heirship. [1]

 [1] The narrative of this coup-de-main may be read with advantage in Corio, p. 258. 

The reign of Gian Galeazzo, which began with this coup-de-main(1385-1402), forms a very important chapter in Italian history. We mayfirst see what sort of man he was, and then proceed to trace his aimsand achievements. Giovio describes him as having been a remarkablysedate and thoughtful boy, so wise beyond his years that his friendsfeared he would not grow to man's estate. No pleasures in after-lifedrew him away from business. Hunting, hawking, women, had alike nocharms for him. He took moderate exercise for the preservation of hishealth, read and meditated much, and relaxed himself in conversationwith men of letters. Pure intellect, in fact, had reached to perfectindependence in this prince, who was far above the boisterous pleasuresand violent activities of the age in which he lived. In the erection ofpublic buildings he was magnificent. The Certosa of Pavia and the Duomoof Milan owed their foundation to his sense of splendor. At the sametime he completed the palace of Pavia, which his father had begun, andwhich he made the noblest dwelling-house in Europe. The University ofPavia was raised by him from a state of decadence to one of greatprosperity, partly by munificent endowments and partly by a wise choiceof professors. In his military undertakings he displayed a kindred tastefor vast engineering projects. He contemplated and partly carried out ascheme for turning the Mincio and the Brenta from their channels, andfor drying up the lagoons of Venice. In this way he purposed to attackhis last great enemy, the Republic of S. Mark, upon her strongest point. Yet in the midst of these huge designs he was able to attend to the mosttrifling details of economy. His love of order was so precise that hemay be said to have applied the method of a banker's office to theconduct of a state. It was he who invented Bureaucracy by creating aspecial class of paid clerks and secretaries of departments. Their dutyconsisted in committing to books and ledgers the minutest items of hisprivate expenditure and the outgoings of his public purse; in noting thedetails of the several taxes, so as to be able to present a survey ofthe whole state revenue; and in recording the names and qualities andclaims of his generals, captains, and officials. A separate office wasdevoted to his correspondence, of all of which he kept accuratecopies. [1] By applying this mercantile machinery to the management ofhis vast dominions, at a time when public economy was but littleunderstood in Europe, Gian Galeazzo raised his wealth enormously abovethat of his neighbors. His income in a single year is said to haveamounted to 1, 200, 000 golden florins, with the addition of 800, 000golden florins levied by extraordinary calls. [2] The personal timidityof this formidable prince prevented him from leading his armies in thefield. He therefore found it necessary to employ paid generals, and tookinto his service all the chief Condottieri of the day, thus giving animpulse to the custom which was destined to corrupt the whole militarysystem of Italy. Of these men, whom he well knew how to choose, he washimself the brain and moving principle. He might have boasted that henever took a step without calculating the cost, carefully consideringthe object, and proportioning the means to his end. How mad to such aman must have seemed the Crusaders of previous centuries, or thechivalrous Princes of Northern Germany and Burgundy, who expended theirforce upon such unprofitable and impossible undertakings as thesubjugation, for instance, of Switzerland! Not a single trait in hischaracter reminds us of the Middle Ages, unless it be that he was saidto care for reliques with a superstitious passion worthy of Louis XI. Sismondi sums up the description of this extraordinary despot in thefollowing sentences, which may be quoted for their graphic brevity:'False and pitiless, he joined to immeasurable ambition a genius forenterprise, and to immovable constancy a personal timidity which he didnot endeavor to conceal. The least unexpected motion near him threw himinto a paroxysm of nervous terror. No prince employed so many soldiersto guard his palace, or took such multiplied precautions of distrust. Heseemed to acknowledge himself the enemy of the whole world. But thevices of tyranny had not weakened his ability. He employed his immensewealth without prodigality; his finances were always flourishing; hiscities well garrisoned and victualed; his army well paid; all thecaptains of adventure scattered throughout Italy received pensions fromhim, and were ready to return to his service whenever called upon. Heencouraged the warriors of the new Italian school; he knew well how todistinguish, reward, and win their attachment. '[3] Such was the tyrantwho aimed at nothing less than the reduction of the whole of Italybeneath the sway of the Visconti, and who might have achieved hispurpose had not his career of conquest been checked by the Republic ofFlorence, and afterwards cut short by a premature death. 

 [1] Giovio is particular upon these points: 'Ho veduto io ne gli armari de' suoi Archivi maravigliosi libri in carta pecora, i quali contenevano d' anno in anno i nomi de' capitani, condottieri, e soldati vecchi, e le paghe di ogn' uno, e 'l rotulo delle cavallerie, et delle fanterie: v' erano anco registrate le copie delle lettere le quali negli importantissimi maneggi di far guerra o pace, o egli haveva scritto ai principi o haveva ricevuto da loro. '

 [2] The description given by Corio (pp. 260, 266-68) of the dower in money, plate, and jewels brought by Valentina Visconti to Louis d'Orleans is a good proof of Gian Galeazzo's wealth. Besides the town of Asti, she took with her in money 400, 000 golden florins. Her gems were estimated at 68, 858 florins, and her plate at 1, 667 marks of Paris. The inventory is curious. 

 [3] 'History of the Italian Republics' (1 vol. Longmans), p. 190. 

At the time of his accession the Visconti had already rooted out theCorreggi and Rossi of Parma, the Scotti of Piacenza, the Pelavicini ofSan Donnino, the Tornielli of Novara, the Ponzoni and Cavalcabò ofCremona, the Beccaria and Languschi of Pavia, the Fisiraghi of Lodi, theBrusati of Brescia. Their viper had swallowed all these lessersnakes. [1] But the Carrara family still ruled at Padua, the Gonzaga atMantua, the Este at Ferrara, while the great house of Scala was inpossession of Verona. Gian Galeazzo's schemes were first directedagainst the Scala dynasty. Founded, like that of the Visconti, upon theimperial authority, it rose to its greatest height under the Ghibellinegeneral Can Grande and his nephew Mastino, in the first half of thefourteenth century (1312-51). Mastino had himself cherished the projectof an Italian Kingdom; but he died before approaching itsaccomplishment. The degeneracy of his house began with his three sons. The two younger killed the eldest; of the survivors the stronger slewthe weaker and then died in 1374, leaving his domains to two of hisbastards. One of these, named Antonio, killed the other in 1381, [2] andafterwards fell a prey to the Visconti in 1387. In his subjugation ofVerona Gian Galeazzo contrived to make use of the Carrara family, although these princes were allied by marriage to the Scaligers, and hadeverything to lose by their downfall. He next proceeded to attack Padua, and gained the co-operation of Venice. In 1388 Francesco da Carrara hadto cede his territory to Visconti's generals, who in the same yearpossessed themselves for him of the Trevisan Marches. It was then thatthe Venetians saw too late the error they had committed in sufferingVerona and Padua to be annexed by the Visconti, when they ought to havebeen fortified as defenses interposed between his growing power andthemselves. Having now made himself master of the North of Italy, [3]with the exception of Mantua, Ferrara, and Bologna, Gian Galeazzo turnedhis attention to these cities. Alberto d' Este was ruling in Ferrara;Francesco da Gonzaga in Mantua. It was the Visconti's policy to enfeeblethese two princes by causing them to appear odious in the eyes of theirsubjects. [4] Accordingly he roused the jealousy of the Marquis ofFerrara against his nephew Obizzo to such a pitch that Alberto beheadedhim together with his mother, burned his wife, and hung a third memberof his family, besides torturing to death all the supposed accomplicesof the unfortunate young man. Against the Marquis of Mantua GianGaleazzo devised a still more diabolical plot. By forged letters andsubtly contrived incidents he caused Francesco da Gonzaga to suspect hiswife of infidelity with his secretary. [5] In a fit of jealous furyFrancesco ordered the execution of his wife, the mother of several ofhis children, together with the secretary. Then he discovered theVisconti's treason. But it was too late for anything but impotenthatred. The infernal device had been successful; the Marquis of Mantuawas no less discredited than the Marquis of Ferrara by his crime. Itwould seem that these men were not of the stamp and caliber to besuccessful villans, and that Gian Galeazzo had reckoned upon this defectin their character. Their violence caused them to be rather loathed thanfeared. The whole of Lombardy was now prostrate before the Milanesetyrant. His next move was to set foot in Tuscany. For this purpose Pisahad to be acquired; and here again he resorted to his devilish policy ofinciting other men to crimes by which he alone would profit in thelong-run. Pisa was ruled at that time by the Gambacorta family, with anold merchant named Pietro at their head. This man had a friend andsecretary called Jacopo Appiano, whom the Visconti persuaded to turnJudas, and to entrap and murder his benefactor and his children. Theassassination took place in 1392. In 1399 Gherardo, son of JacopoAppiano, who held Pisa at the disposal of Gian Galeazzo, sold him thiscity for 200, 000 florins. [6] Perugia was next attacked. Here Pandolfo, chief of the Baglioni family, held a semi-constitutional authority, which the Visconti first helped him to transmute into a tyranny, andthen, upon Pandolfo's assassination, seized as his own. [7] All Italy andeven Germany had now begun to regard the usurpations of the Milanesedespot with alarm. But the sluggish Emperor Wenceslaus refused to takeaction against him; nay, in 1395 he granted to the Visconti theinvestiture of the Duchy of Milan for 100, 000 florins, reserving onlyPavia for himself. In 1399 the Duke laid hands on Siena; and in the nexttwo years the plague came to his assistance by enfeebling the rulingfamilies of Lucca and Bologna, the Guinizzi and the Bentivogli, so thathe was now able to take possession of those cities. 

 [1] Il Biscione, or the Great Serpent, was the name commonly given to the tyranny of the Visconti (see M. Villani, vi. 8), in allusion to their ensign of a naked child issuing from a snake's mouth. 

 [2] Corio, p. 255, tells how the murder was accomplished. Antonio tried to make it appear that his brother Bartolommeo had met his death in the prosecution of infamous amours. 

 [3] Savoy was not in his hands, however, and the Marquisate of Montferrat remained nominally independent, though he held its heir in a kind of honorable confinement. Venice, too, remained in formidable neutrality, the spectator of the Visconti's conquests. 

 [4] The policy adopted by the Visconti against the Estensi and the Gonzaghi was that recommended by Machiavelli (Disc. Iii. 32): 'quando alcuno vuole o che un popolo o un principe levi al tutto l' animo ad uno accordo, non ci è altro modo più vero, nè più stabile, che fargli usare qualche grave scelleratezza contro a colui con il qual tu non vuoi che l' accordo si faccia. '

 [5] This lady was a first cousin as well as sister-in-law of Gian Galeazzo Visconti, who in second marriage had taken Caterina, daughter of Bernabo Visconti, to wife. This fact makes his perfidy the more disgraceful. 

 [6] The Appiani retired to Piombino, where they founded a petty despotism. Appiano's crime, which gave a tyranny to his children, is similar to that of Tremacoldo, who murdered his masters, the Vistarini of Lodi, and to that of Luigi Gonzaga, who founded the Ducal house of Mantua by the murder of his patron, Passerino Buonacolsi. 

 [7] Pandolfo was murdered in 1393. Gian Galeazzo possessed himself of Perugia in 1400, having paved his way for the usurpation by causing Biordo Michelotti, the successor of the Baglioni to be assassinated by his friend Francesco Guidalotti. It will be noticed that he proceeded slowly and surely in the case of each annexation, licking over his prey after he had throttled it and before he swallowed it, like a boa-constrictor. 

There remained no power in Italy, except the Republic of Florence andthe exiled but invincible Francesco da Carrara, to withstand his furtherprogress. Florence delayed his conquests in Tuscany. Francesco managedto return to Padua. Still the peril which threatened the whole of Italywas imminent. The Duke of Milan was in the plenitude of manhood--rich, prosperous, and full of mental force. His acquisitions were wellcemented; his armies in good condition; his treasury brim full; hisgenerals highly paid. All his lieutenants in city and in camp respectedthe iron will and the deep policy of the despot who swayed their actionfrom his arm-chair in Milan. He alone knew how to use the brains andhands that did him service, to keep them mutually in check, and by theirregulated action to make himself not one but a score of men. At last, when all other hope of independence for Italy had failed, the plaguebroke out with fury in Lombardy. Gian Galeazzo retired to his isolatedfortress of Marignano in order to escape infection. Yet there in 1402 hesickened. A comet appeared in the sky, to which he pointed as a sign ofhis approaching death--'God could not but signalize the end of sosupreme a ruler, ' he told his attendants. He died aged 55. Italy drew adeep breath. The danger was passed. 

The systematic plan conceived by Gian Galeazzo for the enslavement ofItaly, the ability and force of intellect which sustained him in itsexecution, and the power with which he bent men to his will, arescarcely more extraordinary than the sudden dissolution of his dukedomat his death. Too timid to take the field himself, he had trained in hisservice a band of great commanders, among whom Alberico da Barbino, Facino Cane, Pandolfo Malatesta, Jacopo dal Verme, Gabrino Fondulo, andOttobon Terzo were the most distinguished. As long as he lived and heldthem in leading strings, all went well. But at his death his two sonswere still mere boys. He had to intrust their persons, together with theconduct of his hardly won dominions, to these captains in conjunctionwith the Duchess Catherine and a certain Francesco Barbavara. This manhad been the Duke's body-servant, and was now the paramour of theDuchess. The generals refused to act with them; and each seized uponsuch portions of the Visconti inheritance as he could most easilyacquire. The vast tyranny of the first Duke of Milan fell to pieces in aday. The whole being based on no legal right, but held togetherartificially by force and skill, its constituent parts either reassertedtheir independence or became the prey of adventurers. [1] Many scions ofthe old ejected families recovered their authority in the subject towns. We hear again of the Scotti at Piacenza, the Rossi and Correggi atParma, the Benzoni at Crema, the Rusconi at Como, the Soardi andColleoni at Bergamo, the Landi at Bobbio, the Cavalcabò at Cremona. Facino Cane appropriated Alessandria; Pandolfo Malatesta seized Brescia;Ottonbon Terzo established himself in Parma. Meanwhile Giovanni MariaVisconti was proclaimed Duke of Milan, and his brother Filippo Mariaoccupied Pavia. Gabriello, a bastard son of the first duke, fortifiedhimself in Crema. 

 [1] The anarchy which prevailed in Lombardy after Gian Galeazzo's death makes it difficult to do more than signalize a few of these usurpations. Corio, pp. 292 et seq. , contain the details. 

In the despotic families of Italy, as already hinted, there was aprogressive tendency to degeneration. The strain of tyranny sustained byforce and craft for generations, the abuse of power and pleasure, theisolation and the dread in which the despots lived habitually, bred akind of hereditary madness. [1] In the case of Giovanni Maria and FilippoMaria Visconti these predisposing causes of insanity were probablyintensified by the fact that their father and mother were first cousins, the grandchildren of Stefano, son of Matteo il Grande. Be this as itmay, the constitutional ferocity of the race appeared as monomania inGiovanni, and its constitutional timidity as something akin to madnessin his brother. Gian Maria, Duke of Milan in nothing but in name, distinguished himself by cruelty and lust. He used the hounds of hisancestors no longer in the chase of boars, but of living men. All thecriminals of Milan, and all whom he could get denounced as criminals, even the participators in his own enormities, were given up to hisinfernal sport. His huntsman, Squarcia Giramo, trained the dogs to theirduty by feeding them on human flesh, and the duke watched them tear hisvictims in pieces with the avidity of a lunatic. [2] In 1412 someMilanese nobles succeeded in murdering him, and threw his mangled corpseinto the street. A prostitute is said to have covered it with roses. Filippo Maria meanwhile had married the widow of Facino Cane, [3] whobrought him nearly half a million of florins for dowry, together withher husband's soldiers and the cities he had seized after GianGaleazzo's death. By the help of this alliance Filippo was now graduallyrecovering the Lombard portion of his father's dukedom. The minorcities, purged by murder of their usurpers, once more fell into thegrasp of the Milanese despot, after a series of domestic and politicaltragedies that drenched their streets with blood. Piacenza was utterlydepopulated. It is recorded that for the space of a year only three ofits inhabitants remained within the walls. 

 [1] I may refer to Dr. Maudsley (Mind and Matter) for a scientific statement of the theory of madness developed by accumulated and hereditary vices. 

 [2] Corio, p. 301, mentions by name Giovanni da Pusterla and Bertolino del Maino as 'lacerati da i cani del Duca. ' Members of the families of these men afterwards helped to kill him. 

 [3] Beatrice di Tenda, the wife of Facino Cane, was twenty years older than the Duke of Milan. As soon as the Visconti felt himself assured in his duchy, he caused a false accusation to be brought against her of adultery with the youthful Michele Oranbelli, and, in spite of her innocence, beheaded her in 1418. Machiavelli relates this act of perfidy with Tacitean conciseness (1st. Fior. Lib. I. Vol. I. P. 55): 'Dipoi per esser grato de' benefici grandi, come sono quasi sempre tutti i Principi, accusè Beatrice sua moglie di stupro e la fece morire. '

Filippo, the last of the Visconti tyrants, was extremely ugly, and sosensitive about his ill-formed person that he scarcely dared to showhimself abroad. He habitually lived in secret chambers, changedfrequently from room to room, and when he issued from his palace refusedsalutations in the streets. As an instance of his nervousness, thechroniclers report that he could not endure to hear the noise ofthunder. [1] At the same time he inherited much of his father's insightinto character, and his power of controlling men more bold and activethan himself. But he lacked the keen decision and broad views of GianGaleazzo. He vacillated in policy and kept planning plots which seemedto have no object but his own disadvantage. Excess of caution made himsurround the captains of his troops with spies, and check them at themoment when he feared they might become too powerful. This want ofconfidence neutralized the advantage which he might have gained by hischoice of fitting instruments. Thus his selection of Francesco Sforzafor his general against the Venetians in 1431 was a wise one. But hecould not attach the great soldier of fortune to himself. Sforza tookthe pay of Florence against his old patron, and in 1441 forced him to aruinous peace; one of the conditions of which was the marriage of theDuke of Milan's only daughter, Bianca, to the son of the peasant ofCotignola. Bianca was illegitimate, and Filippo Maria had no male heir. The great family of the Visconti had dwindled away. Consequently, afterthe duke's death in 1447, Sforza found his way open to the Duchy ofMilan, which he first secured by force and then claimed in right of hiswife. An adverse claim was set up by the House of Orleans, Louis ofOrleans having married Valentina, the legitimate daughter of GianGaleazzo. [2] But both of these claims were invalid, since theinvestiture granted by Wenceslaus to the first duke excluded females. SoMilan was once again thrown open to the competition of usurpers. 

 [1] The most complete account of Filippo Maria Visconti written by a contemporary is that of Piero Candido Decembrio (Muratori, vol. Xx. ). The student must, however, read between the lines of this biography, for Decembrio, at the request of Leonello d' Este, suppressed the darker colors of the portrait of his master. See the correspondence in Rosmini's Life of Guarino da Verona. 

 [2] This claim of the House of Orleans to Milan was one source of French interference in Italian affairs. Judged by Italian custom, Sforza's claim through Bianca was as good as that of the Orleans princes through Valentina, since bastardy was no real bar in the peninsula. It is said that Filippo Maria bequeathed his duchy to the Crown of Naples, by a will destroyed after his death. Could this bequest have taken effect, it might have united Italy beneath one sovereign. But the probabilities are that the jealousies of Florence, Venice, and Rome against Naples would have been so intensified as to lead to a bloody war of succession, and to hasten the French invasion. 

The inextinguishable desire for liberty in Milan blazed forth upon thedeath of the last duke. In spite of so many generations of despots, thepeople still regarded themselves as sovereign, and established arepublic. But a state which had served the Visconti for nearly twocenturies, could not in a moment shake off its weakness and rely uponitself alone. The republic, feeling the necessity of mercenary aid, wasshort-sighted enough to engage Francesco Sforza as commander-in-chiefagainst the Venetians, who had availed themselves of the anarchy inLombardy to push their power west of the Adda. 

Sforza, though the ablest general of the day, was precisely the man whomcommon prudence should have prompted the burghers to mistrust. In onebrilliant campaign he drove the Venetians back beyond the Adda, burnedtheir fleet at Casal Maggiore on the Po, and utterly defeated their armyat Caravaggio. Then he returned as conqueror to Milan, reduced thesurrounding cities, blockaded the Milanese in their capital, and forcedthem to receive him as their Duke in 1450. Italy had lost a nobleopportunity. If Florence and Venice had but taken part with Milan, andhad stimulated the flagging energies of Genoa, four powerful republicsin federation might have maintained the freedom of the whole peninsulaand have resisted foreign interference. But Cosimo de' Medici, who wassilently founding the despotism of his own family in Florence, preferredto see a duke in Milan; and Venice, guided by the Doge FrancescoFoscari, thought only of territorial aggrandizement. The chance waslost. The liberties of Milan were extinguished. A new dynasty wasestablished in the duchy, grounded on a false hereditary claim, which, as long as it continued, gave a sort of color to the superior but stillillegal pretensions of the house of Orleans. It is impossible at thispoint in the history of Italy to refrain from judging that the Italianshad become incapable of local self-government, and that the prevailingtendency to despotism was not the results of accidents in anycombination, but of internal and inevitable laws of evolution. 

It was at this period that the old despotisms founded by Imperial Vicarsand Captains of the People came to be supplanted or crossed by those ofmilitary adventurers, just as at a somewhat later time the Condottiereand the Pope's nominee were blent in Cesare Borgia. This is thereforethe proper moment for glancing at the rise and influence of mercenarygenerals in Italy, before proceeding to sketch the history of the Sforzafamily. 

After the wars in Sicily, carried on by the Angevine princes, had ceased(1302), a body of disbanded soldiers, chiefly foreigners, was formedunder Fra Ruggieri, a Templar, and swept the South of Italy. GiovanniVillani marks this as the first sign of the scourge which was destinedto prove so fatal to the peace of Italy. [1] But it was not any merelyaccidental outbreak of Banditti, such as this, which established theCondottiere system. The causes were far more deeply seated, in thenature of Italian despotism and in the peculiar requirements of therepublics. We have already seen how Frederick II. Found it convenient toemploy Saracens in his warfare with the Holy See. The same desire toprocure troops incapable of sympathizing with the native populationinduced the Scala and Visconti tyrants to hire German, Breton, Swiss, English, and even Hungarian guards. These foreign troops remained atthe disposal of the tyrants and superseded the national militia. Thepeople of Italy were reserved for taxation; the foreigners carried onthe wars of the princes. Nor was this policy otherwise than popular. Itrelieved all classes from the conscription, leaving the burgher free toply his trade, the peasant to till his fields, and disarming the nobleswho were still rebellious and turbulent within the city walls. The samecustom gained ground among the Republics. Rich Florentine citizenspreferred to stay at home at ease, or to travel abroad for commerce, while they intrusted their military operations to paid generals. [2]Venice, jealous of her own citizens, raised no levies in her immediateterritory, and made a rule of never confiding her armies to Venetians. Her admirals, indeed, were selected from the great families of theLagoons. But her troops were placed beneath the discipline offoreigners. The warfare of the Church, again, had of necessity to beconducted on the same principles; for it did not often happen that aPope arose like Julius II. , rejoicing in the sound of cannon and thelife of camps. In this way principalities and republics graduallydenationalized their armies, and came to carrying on campaigns by theaid of foreign mercenaries under paid commanders. The generals, wishingas far as possible to render their troops movable and compact, suppressed the infantry, and confined their attention to perfecting thecavalry. Heavy-armed cavaliers, officered by professional captains, fought the battles of Italy; while despots and republics schemed intheir castles, or debated in their council-chambers, concerning objectsof warfare about which the soldiers of fortune were indifferent. The payreceived by men-at-arms was more considerable than that of the mostskilled laborers in any peaceful trade. The perils of military servicein Italy, conducted on the most artificial principles, were but slight;while the opportunities of self-indulgence--of pillage during war and ofpleasure in the brief intervals of peace--attracted all the hot blood ofthe country to this service. [3] Therefore, in course of time, theprofession of Condottiere fascinated the needier nobility of Italy, andthe ranks of their men-at-arms were recruited by townsfolk and peasants, who deliberately chose a life of adventure. 

 [1] VIII. 51. 

 [2] We may remember how the Spanish general Cardona, in 1325, misused his captaincy of the Florentine forces to keep rich members of the republican militia in unhealthy stations, extorting money from them as the price of freedom from perilous or irksome service. 

 [3] Matarazzo, in his Chronicle of Perugia, gives a lively picture of an Italian city, in which the nobles for generations followed the trade of Condottieri, while the people enlisted in their bands--to the utter ruin of the morals and the peace of the community. 

At first the foreign troops of the despots were engaged as body-guards, and were controlled by the authority of their employers. But thecaptains soon rendered themselves independent, and entered into militarycontracts on their own account. The first notable example of a rovingtroop existing for the sake of pillage, and selling its services to anybidder, was the so-called Great Company (1343), commanded by the GermanGuarnieri, or Duke Werner who wrote upon his corselet: 'Enemy of God, ofPity and of Mercy. ' This band was employed in 1348 by the league of theMontferrat, La Scala, Carrara, Este, and Gonzaga houses, formed to checkthe Visconti. 

'In the middle of the fourteenth century, ' writes Sismondi, [1] 'all thesoldiers who served in Italy were foreigners: at the end of the samecentury they were all, or nearly all, Italian. ' This sentence indicatesa most important change in the Condottiere system, which took placeduring the lifetime of Gian Galeazzo Visconti. Alberico da Barbiano, anoble of Romagna, and the ancestor of the Milanese house of Belgiojoso, adopted the career of Condottiere, and formed a Company, called theCompany of S. George, into which he admitted none but Italians. Theconsequence of this rule was that he Italianized the profession ofmercenary arms for the future. All the great captains of the period wereformed in his ranks, during the course of those wars which he conductedfor the Duke of Milan. Two rose to paramount importance--Braccio daMontone, who varied his master's system by substituting the tactics ofdetached bodies of cavalry for the solid phalanx in which Barbiano hadmoved his troops; and Sforza Attendolo, who adhered to the old method. Sforza got his name from his great physical strength. He was a peasantof the village of Cotignola, who, being invited to quit the mattock fora sword, threw his pickax into an oak, and cried, 'If it stays there, itis a sign that I shall make my fortune. ' The ax stuck in the tree, andSforza went forth to found a line of dukes. [2] After the death ofBarbiano in 1409, Sforza and Braccio separated and formed two distinctcompanies, known as the Sforzeschi and Bracceschi, who carried onbetween them, sometimes in combination, but usually in opposition, allthe wars of Italy for the next twenty years. These old comrades, who hadparted in pursuit of their several advantage, found that they had moreto lose than to gain by defeating each other in any bloody orinconveniently decisive engagement. Therefore they adopted systems ofcampaigning which should cost them as little as possible, but whichenabled them to exhibit a chess-player's capacity for designing clevercheckmates. [3] Both Braccio and Sforza died in 1424, and were succeededrespectively by Nicolo Piccinino and Francesco Sforza. These two menbecame in their turn the chief champions of Italy. At the same timeother Condottieri rose into notice. The Malatesta family at Rimini, theducal house of Urbino, the Orsini and the Vitelli of the Roman States, the Varani of Camerino, the Baglioni of Perugia, and the youngerGonzaghi furnished republics and princes with professional leaders oftried skill and independent resources. The vassals of these noble houseswere turned into men-at-arms, and the chiefs acquired more importance intheir roving military life than they could have gained within the narrowcircuit of their little states. 

 [1] Vol. V. P. 207. 

 [2] This is the commonly received legend. Corio, p. 255, does not draw attention to the lowness of Sforza's origin, but says that he was only twelve years of age when he enlisted in the corps of Boldrino da Panigale, condottiere of the Church. His robust physical qualities were hereditary for many generations in his family. His son Francesco was tall and well made, the best runner, jumper, and wrestler of his day. He marched, summer and winter, bareheaded; needed but little sleep; was spare in diet, and self-indulgent only in the matter of women. Galeazzo Maria, though stained by despicable vices was a powerful prince, who ruled his duchy with a strong arm. Of his illegitimate daughter, Caterina, the wife of Girolamo Riario, a story is told, which illustrates the strong coarse vein that still distinguished this brood of princes. [See Dennistoun, 'Dukes of Urbino, ' vol. I. P. 292, for Boccalini's account of the Siege of Forli, sustained by Caterina in 1488. Compare Sismondi, vol. Vii. P. 251. ] Caterina Riario Sforza, as a woman, was no unworthy inheritor of her grandfather's personal heroism and genius for government. 

 [3] I shall have to notice the evils of this system in another place, while reviewing the _Principe_ of Machiavelli. In that treatise the Florentine historian traces the whole ruin of Italy during the sixteenth century to the employment of mercenaries. 

The biography of one of these Condottieri deserves special notice, sinceit illustrates the vicissitudes of fortune to which such men wereexposed, as well as their relations to their patrons. FrancescoCarmagnuola was a Piedmontese. He first rose into notice at the battleof Monza in 1412, when Filippo Maria Visconti observed his capacity andbravery, and afterwards advanced him to the captaincy of a troop. Havinghelped to reduce the Visconti duchy to order, Carmagnuola found himselfdisgraced and suspected without good reason by the Duke of Milan; and in1426 he took the pay of the Venetians against his old master. During thenext year he showed the eminence of his abilities as a general; for hedefeated the combined forces of Piccinino, Sforza, and other captains ofthe Visconti, and took them prisoners at Macalo. Carmagnuola neitherimprisoned nor murdered his foes. [1] He gave them their liberty, andfour years later had to sustain a defeat from Sforza at Soncino. Otherreverses of fortune followed, which brought upon him the suspicion ofbad faith or incapacity. When he returned to Venice, the state receivedtheir captain with all honors, and displayed unusual pomp in hisadmission to the audience of the Council. But no sooner had their velvetclutches closed upon him, than they threw him into prison, instituted asecret impeachment of his conduct, and on May 5, 1432, led him out withhis mouth gagged, to execution on the Piazza. No reason was assigned forthis judicial murder. Had Carmagnuola been convicted of treason? Was hebeing punished for his ill success in the campaign of the precedingyears? The Republic of Venice, by the secrecy in which she envelopedthis dark act of vengeance, sought to inspire the whole body of herofficials with vague alarm. 

 [1] Such an act of violence, however consistent with the morality of a Cesare Borgia, a Venetian Republic, or a Duke of Milan, would have been directly opposed to the code of honor in use among Condottieri. Nothing, indeed, is more singular among the contradictions of this period than the humanity in the field displayed by hired captains. War was made less on adverse armies than on the population of provinces. The adventurers respected each other's lives, and treated each other with courtesy. They were a brotherhood who played at campaigning, rather than the representatives of forces seriously bent on crushing each other to extermination. Machiavelli says (Princ. Cap. Xii. ) 'Aveano usato ogni industria per levar via a se e a' soldati la fatica e la paura, non s'ammazzando nelle zuffe, ma pigliandosi prigioni e senza taglia. ' At the same time the license they allowed themselves against the cities and the districts they invaded is well illustrated by the pillage of Piacenza in 1447 by Francesco Sforza's troops. The anarchy of a sack lasted forty days, during which the inhabitants were indiscriminately sold as slaves, or tortured for their hidden treasure. Sism. Vi. 170. 

But to return to the Duchy of Milan. Francesco Sforza entered thecapital as conqueror in 1450, and was proclaimed Duke. He never obtainedthe sanction of the Empire to his title, though Frederick III. Wasproverbially lavish of such honors. But the great Condottiere, possessing the substance, did not care for the external show ofmonarchy. He ruled firmly, wisely, and for those times well, attendingto the prosperity of his states, maintaining good discipline in hiscities, and losing no ground by foolish or ambitious schemes. Louis XI. Of France is said to have professed himself Sforza's pupil instatecraft, than which no greater tribute could be paid to his politicalsagacity. In 1466 he died, leaving three sons, Galeazzo, Duke of Milan, the Cardinal Ascanio, and Lodovico, surnamed Il Moro. 

'Francesco's crown, ' says Ripamonti, 'was destined to pass to more thansix inheritors, and these five successions were accomplished by a seriesof tragic events in his family. Galeazzo, his son, was murdered becauseof his abominable crimes, in the presence of his people, before thealtar, in the middle of the sacred rites. Giovanni Galeazzo, whofollowed him, was poisoned by his uncle Lodovico. Lodovico wasimprisoned by the French, and died of grief in a dungeon. [1] One of hissons perished in the same way; the other, after years of misery andexile, was restored in his childless old age to a throne which had beenundermined, and when he died, his dynasty was extinct. This was therecompense for the treason of Francesco to the State of Milan. It wasfor such successes that he passed his life in perfidy, privation, anddanger. ' In these rapid successions we trace, besides the demoralizationof the Sforza family, the action of new forces from without. France, Germany, and Spain appeared upon the stage; and against these greatpowers the policy of Italian despotism was helpless. 

 [1] In the castle of Loches, there is said to be a roughly painted wall-picture of a man in a helmet over the chimney in the room known as his prison, with this legend, _Voilà un qui n'est pas content_. Tradition gives it to Il Moro. 

We have now reached the threshold of the true Renaissance, and a newperiod is being opened for Italian politics. The despots are about tomeasure their strength with the nations of the North. It was LodovicoSforza who, by his invitation of Charles VIII. Into Italy, inauguratedthe age of Foreign Enslavement. His biography belongs, therefore, toanother chapter. But the life of Galeazzo Maria, husband of Bona ofSavoy, and uncle by marriage to Charles VIII. Of France, forms anintegral part of that history of the Milanese despots which we havehitherto been tracing. In him the passions of Gian Maria Visconti wererepeated with the addition of extravagant vanity. We may notice inparticular his parade-expedition in 1471 to Florence, when he flauntedthe wealth extorted from his Milanese subjects before the sobermindedcitizens of a still free city. Fifty palfreys for the Duchess, fiftychargers for the Duke, trapped in cloth of gold; a hundred men-at-armsand five hundred foot soldiers for a body-guard; five hundred couples ofhounds and a multitude of hawks; preceded him. His suite of courtiersnumbered two thousand on horseback: 200, 000 golden florins were expendedon this pomp. Machiavelli (1st. Fior. Lib. 7) marks this visit of theDuke of Milan as a turning-point from austere simplicity to luxury andlicense in the manners of the Florentines, whom Lorenzo de' Medici wasalready bending to his yoke. The most extravagant lust, the meanest andthe vilest cruelty, supplied Galeazzo Maria with daily recreation. [1] Heit was who used to feed his victims on abominations or to bury themalive, and who found a pleasure in wounding or degrading those whom hehad made his confidants and friends. The details of his assassination, in 1476, though well known, are so interesting that I may be excused forpausing to repeat them here; especially as they illustrate a moralcharacteristic of this period which is intimately connected with thedespotism. Three young nobles of Milan, educated in the classicliterature by Montano, a distinguished Bolognese scholar, had imbibedfrom their studies of Greek and Latin history an ardent thirst forliberty and a deadly hatred of tyrants. [2] Their names were CarloVisconti, Girolamo Olgiati, and Giannandrea Lampugnani. Galeazzo Sforzahad wounded the two latter in the points which men hold dearest--theirhonor and their property[3]--by outraging the sister of Olgiati and bydepriving Lampugnani of the patronage of the Abbey of Miramondo. Thespirit of Harmodius and Virginius was kindled in the friends, and theydetermined to rid Milan of her despot. After some meetings in the gardenof S. Ambrogio, where they matured their plans, they laid their projectof tyrannicide as a holy offering before the patron saint of Milan. [4]Then having spent a few days in poignard exercise for the sake oftraining, [5] they took their place within the precincts of S. Stephen'sChurch. There they received the sacrament and addressed themselves inprayer to the Protomartyr, whose fane was about to be hallowed by themurder of a monster odious to God and man. It was on the morning ofDecember 26, 1476, that the duke entered San Stefano. At one and thesame moment the daggers of the three conspirators struck him--Olgiati'sin the breast, Visconti's in the back, Lampugnani's in the belly. Hecried 'Ah, Dio!' and fell dead upon the pavement. The friends wereunable to make their escape; Visconti and Lampugnani were killed on thespot; Olgiati was seized, tortured, and torn to death. 

 [1] Allegretto Allegretti, Diari Sanesi, in Muratori, xxiii. P. 777, and Corio, p. 425, should be read for the details of his pleasures. See too his character by Machiavelli, 1st. Fior. Lib. 7, vol. Ii. P. 316. Yet Giovio calls him a just and firm ruler, stained only with the vice of unbridled sensuality. 

 [2] The study of the classics, especially of Plutarch, at this time, as also during the French Revolution, fired the imagination of patriots. Lorenzino de' Medici appealed to the example of Timoleon in 1537, and Pietro Paolo Boscoli to that of Brutus in 1513. 

 [3] 'Le ingiurie conviene che siano nella roba, nel sangue, o nell' onore. .. . La roba e l'onore sono quelle due cose che offendono più gli uomini che alcun' altra offesa, e dalle quali il principe si debbe guardare: perchè e' non può mai spogliare uno tanto che non gli resti un coltello da vendicarsi; non può tanto disonorare uno che non gli resti un animo ostinato alla vendetta. ' Mach. Disc. Iii. 6. 

 [4] See Olgiati's prayer to Saint Ambrose in Sismondi, vii. 87, and in Mach. Ist. Fior. Lib. 7. 

 [5] Giovanni Sanzi's chronicle, quoted by Dennistoun, vol. I. P. 223, describes the conspirators rehearsing on a wooden puppet. 

In the interval which elapsed between the rack and the pincers, Olgiatihad time to address this memorable speech to the priest who urged him torepent: 'As for the noble action for which I am about to die, it is thiswhich gives my conscience peace; to this I trust for pardon from theJudge of all. Far from repenting, if I had to come ten times to life inorder ten times to die by these same torments, I should not hesitate todedicate my blood and all my powers to an object so sublime. ' When thehangman stood above him, ready to begin the work of mutilation, he issaid to have exclaimed: Mors acerba, fama perpetua, stabit vetus memorafacti--my death is untimely, my fame eternal, the memory of the deedwill last for aye. ' He was only twenty-two years of age. [1] There is anantique grandeur about the outlines of this story, strangely mingledwith mediæval Catholicism in the details, which makes it typical of theRenaissance. Conspiracies against rulers were common at the time inItaly; but none were so pure and honorable as this. Of the PazziConjuration (1478) which Sixtus IV. Directed to his everlasting infamyagainst the Medici, I shall have to speak in another place. It is enoughto mention here in passing the patriotic attempt of Girolamo Gentileagainst Galeazzo Sforza at Genoa in 1476, and the more selfish plot ofNicolo d' Este, in the same year, against his uncle Ercole, who held theMarquisate of Ferrara to the prejudice of his own claim. The lattertragedy was rendered memorable by the vengeance taken by Ercole. Hebeheaded Nicolo and his cousin Azzo together with twenty-five of hiscomrades, effectually preventing by this bloodshed any future attempt toset aside his title. Falling as these four conspiracies do within thespace of two years, and displaying varied features of antique heroism, simple patriotism, dynastic dissension, and ecclesiastical perfidy, theypresent examples of the different forms and causes of politicaltragedies with a noteworthy and significant conciseness. [2]

 [1] The whole story may be read in Ripamonti, under the head of 'Confessio Olgiati;' in Corio, who was a page of the Duke's and an eye-witness of the murder; and in the seventh book of Machiavelli's 'History. ' Sismondi's summary and references, vol. Vii. Pp. 86-90, are very full. 

 [2] It is worthy of notice that very many tyrannicides took place in Church--for example, the murders of Francesco Vico dei Prefetti, of the Varani, the Chiavelli, Giuliano de' Medici, and Galeazzo Maria Sforza. The choice of public service, as the best occasion for the commission of these crimes, points to the guarded watchfulness maintained by tyrants in their palaces and on the streets. Banquets and festivities offered another kind of opportunity; and it was on such occasions that domestic tragedies, like Oliverotto's murder of his uncle and Grifonetto Baglioni's treason, were accomplished. 

Such was the actual condition of Italy at the end of the fifteenthcentury. Neither public nor private morality in our sense of the wordexisted. The crimes of the tyrants against their subjects and themembers of their own families had produced a correlative order of crimein the people over whom they tyrannized. Cruelty was met by conspiracy. Tyrannicide became honorable; and the proverb, 'He who gives his ownlife can take a tyrant's, ' had worked itself into popular language. Atthis point it may be well to glance at the opinions concerning publicmurder which prevailed in Italy. Machiavelli, in the _Discorsi_ iii. 6, discusses the whole subject with his usual frigid and exhaustiveanalysis. It is no part of his critical method to consider the moralityof the matter. He deals with the facts of history scientifically. Theesteem in which tyrannicide was held at Florence is proved by theerection of Donatello's Judith in 1495, at the gate of the PalazzoPubblico, with this inscription, _exemplum salutis publicæ civesposuere_. All the political theorists agree that to rid a state of itsdespot is a virtuous act. They only differ about its motives and itsutility. In Guicciardini's Reggimento di Firenze (Op. Ined. Vol. Ii. Pp. 53, 54, 114) the various motives of tyrannicide are discussed, and it isconcluded that _pochissimi sono stati quelli che si siano mossimeramente per amore della libertà della sua patria, a' quali si convienesuprema laude_. [1] Donato Giannotti (Opere, vol. I. P. 341) bids theconspirator consider whether the mere destruction of the despot willsuffice to restore his city to true liberty and good government--acaution by which Lorenzino de' Medici in his assassination of DukeAlessandro might have profited; for he killed one tyrant in order onlyto make room for another. Lorenzino's own Apology (Varchi, vol. Iii. Pp. 283-295) is an important document, as showing that the murderer of adespot counted on the sympathy of honorable men. So, too, is the verdictof Boscolo's confessor (Arch. Stor. Vol. I. P. 309), who pronounced thatconspiracy against a tyrant was no crime. Nor did the demoralization ofthe age stop here. Force, which had been substituted for Law ingovernment, became, as it were, the mainspring of society. Murders, poisoning, rapes, and treasons were common incidents of private as ofpublic life. [2] In cities like Naples bloodguilt could be atoned at aninconceivably low rate. A man's life was worth scarcely more than thatof a horse. The palaces of the nobles swarmed with professionalcut-throats, and the great ecclesiastics claimed for their abodes theright of sanctuary. Popes sold absolution for the most horribleexcesses, and granted indulgences beforehand for the commission ofcrimes of lust and violence. Success was the standard by which acts werejudged; and the man who could help his friends intimidate his enemies, and carve a way to fortune for himself by any means he chose, wasregarded as a hero. Machiavelli's use of the word _virtù_ is in thisrelation most instructive. It has altogether lost the Christian sense of_virtue_, and retains only so much of the Roman _virtus_ as isapplicable to the courage, intellectual ability, and personal prowess ofone who has achieved his purpose, be that what it may. The upshot ofthis state of things was that individuality of character and geniusobtained a freer scope at this time in Italy than during any otherperiod of modern history. 

 [1] 'Very few indeed have those been, whose motive for tyrannicide was a pure love of their country's liberty; and these deserve the highest praise. '

 [2] It is quite impossible to furnish a complete view of Italian society under this aspect. Students must be referred to the stories of the novelists, who collected the more dramatic incidents and presented them in the form of entertaining legends. It may suffice here to mention Bartolommeo Colleoni, Angelo Poliziano, and Pontano, all of whom owed their start in life to the murder of their respective fathers by assassins; to Varchi and Filelfo, whose lives were attempted by cut-throats; to Cellini, Perugino, Masaccio, Berni, in each of whose biographies poison and the knife play their parts. If men of letters and artists were exposed to these perils, the dangers of the great and noble may be readily imagined. 

At the same time it must not be forgotten that during this period theart and culture of the Renaissance were culminating. Filelfo wasreceiving the gold of Filippo Maria Visconti. Guarino of Verona wasinstructing the heir of Ferrara, and Vittorino da Feltre was educatingthe children of the Marquis of Mantua. Lionardo was delighting Milanwith his music and his magic world of painting. Poliziano was pouringforth honeyed eloquence at Florence. Ficino was expounding Plato. Boiardo was singing the prelude to Ariosto's melodies at Ferrara. Picodella Mirandola was dreaming of a reconciliation of the Hebrew, Pagan, and Christian traditions. It is necessary to note these facts inpassing; just as when we are surveying the history of letters and thearts, it becomes us to remember the crimes and the madness of thedespots who patronized them. This was an age in which even the wildestand most perfidious of tyrants felt the ennobling influences and thesacred thirst of knowledge. Sigismondo Pandolfo Malatesta, the Lord ofRimini, might be selected as a true type of the princes who united aromantic zeal for culture with the vices of barbarians. [1] The coinswhich bear the portraits of this man, together with the medallionscarved in red Verona marble on his church at Rimini, show a narrowforehead, protuberant above bushy eyebrows, a long hooked nose, hollowcheeks, and petulant, passionate, compressed lips. The whole face seemsready to flash with sudden violence, to merge its self-control in aspasm of fury. Sigismondo Pandolfo Malatesta killed three wives insuccession, violated his daughter, and attempted the chastity of his ownson. So much of him belongs to the mere savage. He caused themagnificent church of S. Francesco at Rimini to be raised by Leo Albertiin a manner more worthy of a Pagan Pantheon than of a Christian temple. He incrusted it with exquisite bas-reliefs in marble, the triumphs ofthe earliest Renaissance style, carved his own name and ensigns uponevery scroll and frieze and point of vantage in the building, anddedicated a shrine there to his concubine--_Divæ Isottæ Sacrum_. So muchof him belongs to the Neo-Pagan of the fifteenth century. He broughtback from Greece the mortal remains of the philosopher Gemistos Plethon, buried them in a sarcophagus outside his church, and wrote upon the tombthis epigraph: 'These remains of Gemistus of Byzantium, chief of thesages of his day, Sigismondo Pandolfo Malatesta, son of Pandolfo, commander in the war against the king of the Turks in the Morea, inducedby the mighty love with which he burns for men of learning, broughthither and placed within this chest. 1466. ' He, the most fretful andturbulent of men, read books with patient care, and bore thecontradictions of pedants in the course of long discussions onphilosophy and arts and letters. So much of him belonged to the newspirit of the coming age, in which the zeal for erudition was a passion, and the spell of science was stronger than the charms of love. At thesame time, as Condottiere, he displayed all the treasons, duplicities, cruelties, sacrileges, and tortuous policies to which the mostaccomplished villain of the age could have aspired. 

 [1] For a fuller account of him, see my 'Sketches in Italy and Greece, ' article _Rimini_. 

It would be easy, following in the steps of Tiraboschi, to describe thepatronage awarded in the fifteenth century to men of letters byprinces--the protection extended by Nicholas III. Of Ferrara to Guarinoand Aurispa--the brilliant promise of his son Leonello, who correspondedwith Poggio, Filelfo, Guarino, Francesco Barbaro, and otherscholars--the liberality of Duke Borso, whose purse was open to poorstudents. Or we might review the splendid culture of the court ofNaples, where Alfonso committed the education of his terrible sonFerdinand to the care of Lorenzo Valla and Antonio Beccadelli. [1] Moreinsight, however, into the nature of Italian despotism in all its phasesmay be gained by turning from Milan to Urbino, and by sketching aportrait of the good Duke Frederick. [2] The life of Frederick, Count ofMontefeltro, created Duke of Urbino in 1474 by Pope Sixtus IV. , coversthe better part of the fifteenth century (b. 1422, d. 1482). A littlecorner of old Umbria lying between the Apennines and the Adriatic, Rimini and Ancona, formed his patrimony. Speaking roughly, the wholeduchy was but forty miles square, and the larger portion consisted ofbare hillsides and ruinous ravines. Yet this poor territory became thecenter of a splendid court. 'Federigo, ' says his biographer, Muzio, 'maintained a suite so numerous and distinguished as to rival any royalhousehold. ' The chivalry of Italy flocked to Urbino in order to learnmanners and the art of war from the most noble general of his day. 'Hishousehold, ' we hear from Vespasiano, 'which consisted of 500 mouthsentertained at his own cost, was governed less like a company ofsoldiers than a strict religious community. There was no gaming norswearing, but the men conversed with the utmost sobriety. ' In a list ofthe court officers we find forty-five counts of the duchy and of otherstates, seventeen gentlemen, five secretaries, four teachers of grammar, logic, and philosophy, fourteen clerks in public offices, fivearchitects and engineers, five readers during meals, four transcribersof MSS. The library, collected by Vespasiano during fourteen years ofassiduous labor, contained copies of all the Greek and Latin authorsthen discovered, the principal treatises on theology and church history, a complete series of Italian poets, historiographers, and commentators, various medical, mathematical, and legal works, essays on music, military tactics and the arts, together with such Hebrew books as wereaccessible to copyists. Every volume was bound in crimson and silver, and the whole collection cost upwards of 30, 000 ducats. For the expensesof so large a household, and the maintenance of this fine library, notto mention a palace that was being built and churches that requiredadornment, the mere revenues of the duchy could not have sufficed. Federigo owed his wealth to his engagements as a general. Militaryservice formed his trade. 'In 1453, ' says Dennistoun, 'his war-pay fromAlfonso of Naples exceeded 8, 000 ducats a month, and for many years hehad from him and his son an annual peace-pension of 6, 000 in name ofpast services. At the close of his life, when captain-general of theItalian league, he drew in war 165, 000 ducats of annual stipend, 45, 000being his own share; in peace, 65, 000 in all. ' As a Condottiere, Federigo was famous in this age of broken faith for his plain dealingand sincerity. Only one piece of questionable practice--the capture ofVerucchio in 1462 by a forged letter pretending to come from SigismondoMalatesta--stained his character for honesty. To his soldiers in thefield he was considerate and generous; to his enemies compassionate andmerciful. [3] 'In military science, ' says Vespasiano, 'he was excelled byno commander of his time; uniting energy with judgment, he conquered byprudence as much as by force. The like wariness was observed in all hisaffairs; and in none of his many battles was he worsted. Nor may I omitthe strict observance of good faith, wherein he never failed. All towhom he once gave his word, might testify to his inviolate performanceof it. ' The same biographer adds that 'he was singularly religious, andmost observant of the Divine commands. No morning passed without hishearing mass upon his knees. '

 [1] The Panormita; author, by the way, of the shameless 'Hermaphroditus. ' This fact is significant. The moral sense was extinct when such a pupil was intrusted to such a tutor. 

 [2] For the following details I am principally indebted to 'The Memoirs of the Dukes of Urbino, ' by James Dennistoun; 3 vols. , Longmans, 1851. Vespasiano's Life of Duke Frederick (Vite di uomini illustri, pp. 72-112) is one of the most charming literary portraits extant. It has, moreover, all the value of a personal memoir, for Vespasiano had lived in close relation with the Duke as his librarian. 

 [3] See the testimony of Francesco di Giorgio; Dennistoun, vol. I. P. 259. The sack of Volterra was, however, a blot upon his humanity. 

While a boy, Federigo had been educated in the school of Vittorino daFeltre at Mantua. Gian Francesco Gonzaga invited that eminent scholar tohis court in 1425 for the education of his sons and daughter, assemblinground him subordinate teachers in grammar, mathematics, music, painting, dancing, riding, and all noble exercises. The system supervised byVittorino included not only the acquisition of scholarship, but alsotraining in manly sports and the cultivation of the moral character. Many of the noblest Italians were his pupils. Ghiberto da Correggio, Battista Pallavicíni, Taddeo Manfredi of Faenza, Gabbriello da Cremona, Francesco da Castiglione, Niccolo Perrotti, together with the Count ofMontefeltro, lived in Vittorino's house, associating with the poorerstudents whom the benevolent philosopher instructed for the love oflearning. Ambrogio Camaldolese in a letter to Niccolo Niccoli gives thisanimated picture of the Mantuan school: 'I went again to visit Vittorinoand to see his Greek books. He came to meet me with the children of theprince, two sons and a daughter of seven years. The eldest boy iseleven, the younger five. There are also other children of about ten, sons of nobles, as well as other pupils. He teaches them Greek, and theycan write that language well. I saw a translation from Saint Chrysostommade by one of them which pleased me much. ' And again a few years later:'He brought me Giovanni Lucido, son of the Marquis, a boy of aboutfourteen, whom he has educated, and who then recited two hundred linescomposed by him upon the shows with which the Emperor was received inMantua. The verses were most beautiful, but the sweetness and eleganceof his recitation made them still more graceful. He also showed me twopropositions added by him to Euclid, which prove how eminent he promisesto be in mathematical studies. There was also a little daughter of theMarquis, of about ten, who writes Greek beautifully; and many otherpupils, some of noble birth, attended them. ' The medal struck byPisanello in honor of Vittorino da Feltre bears the ensign of a pelicanfeeding her young from a wound in her own breast--a symbol of themaster's self-sacrifice. [1] I hope to return in the second volume ofthis work to Vittorino. It is enough here to remark that in this goodschool the Duke of Urbino acquired that solid culture whichdistinguished him through life. In after years, when the cares of hisnumerous engagements fell thick upon him, we hear from Vespasiano thathe still prosecuted his studies, reading Aristotle's Ethics, Politics, and Physics, listening to the works of S. Thomas Aquinas and Scotus readaloud, perusing at one time the Greek fathers and at another the Latinhistorians. [2] How profitably he spent his day at Urbino may be gatheredfrom this account of his biographer: 'He was on horseback at daybreakwith four or six mounted attendants and not more, and with one or twofoot servants unarmed. He would ride out three or four miles, and beback again when the rest of his court rose from bed. After dismounting, he heard mass. Then he went into a garden open at all sides, and gaveaudience to those who listed until dinner-time. At table, all the doorswere open; any man could enter where his lordship was; for he never ateexcept with a full hall. According to the season he had books read outas follows--in Lent, spiritual works; at other times, the history ofLivy; all in Latin. His food was plain; he took no comfits, and drank nowine, except drinks of pomegranate, cherry, or apples. ' After dinner heheard causes, and gave sentence in the Latin tongue. Then he would visitthe nuns of Santa Chiara or watch the young men of Urbino at theirgames, using the courtesy of perfect freedom with his subjects. Hisreputation as a patron of the arts and of learning was widely spread. 'To hear him converse with a sculptor, ' says Vespasiano, 'you would havethought he was a master of the craft. In painting, too, he displayed themost acute judgment; and as he could not find among the Italians worthymasters of oil colors, he sent to Flanders for one, who painted for himthe philosophers and poets and doctors of the Church. He also broughtfrom Flanders masters in the art of tapestry. ' Pontano, Ficino, andPoggio dedicated works of importance to his name; and Pirro Perrotti, inthe preface to his uncle's 'Cornucopia, ' draws a quaint picture of thereception which so learned a book was sure to meet with at Urbino. [3]But Frederick was not merely an accomplished prince. Concurrenttestimony proves that he remained a good husband and a constant friendthroughout his life, that he controlled his natural quickness of temper, and subdued the sensual appetites which in that age of lax morality hemight have indulged without reproach. In his relations to his subjectshe showed what a paternal monarch should be, conversing familiarly withthe citizens of Urbino, accosting them with head uncovered, inquiringinto the necessities of the poorer artisans, relieving the destitute, dowering orphan girls, and helping distressed shopkeepers with loans. Numerous anecdotes are told which illustrate his consideration for hisold servants, and his anxiety for the welfare and good order of hisstate. At a time when the Pope and the King of Naples were making moneyby monopolies of corn, the Duke of Urbino filled his granaries fromApulia, and sold bread during a year of scarcity at a cheap rate to hispoor subjects. Nor would he allow his officers to prosecute the indigentfor debts incurred by such purchases. He used to say: 'I am not amerchant; it is enough to have saved my people from hunger. ' We mustremember that this excellent prince had a direct interest inmaintaining the prosperity and good-will of his duchy. His professionwas warfare, and the district of Urbino supplied him with his besttroops. Yet this should not diminish the respect due to the foresightand benevolence of a Condottiere who knew how to carry on his callingwith humanity and generosity. Federigo wore the Order of the Garter, which Henry VII. Conferred on him, the Neapolitan Order of the Ermine, and the Papal decorations of the Rose, the Hat, the Sword. He servedthree pontiffs, two kings of Naples, and two dukes of Milan. TheRepublic of Florence and more than one Italian League appointed himtheir general in the field. If his military career was less brilliantthan that of the two Sforzas, Piccinino, or Carmagnuola, he avoided thecrimes to which ambition led some of these men and the rocks on whichthey struck. At his death he transmitted a flourishing duchy, acultivated court, a renowned name, and the leadership of the ItalianLeague to his son Guidobaldo. 

 [1] Prendilacqua, the biographer of Vittorino, says that he died so poor that his funeral expenses had to be defrayed. 

 [2] Pius II. In his Commentaries gives an interesting account of the conversations concerning the tactics of the ancients which he held with Frederick, in 1461, in the neighborhood of Tivoli. 

 [3] The preface to the original edition of the 'Cornucopia' is worth reading for the lively impression which it conveys of Federigo's personality: 'Admirabitur in te divinam illam corporis proceritatem, membrorum robur eximium, venerandam oris dignitatem, ætatis maturam gravitatem, divinam quandam majestatem cum humanitate conjunctam, totum præterea talem qualem esse oportebat eum principem quem nuper pontifex maximus et universus senatus omnium rerum suarum et totius ecclesiastici imperii ducem moderatoremque constituit. '

The young Duke, whose court, described by Castiglione, may be said tohave set the model of good breeding to all Europe, began life under thehappiest auspices. From his tutor Odasio of Padua we hear that even inboyhood he cared only for study and for manly sports. His memory was soretentive that he could repeat whole treatises by heart after the lapseof ten or fifteen years, nor did he ever forget what he had resolved toretain. In the Latin and Greek languages he became an accomplishedscholar, [1] and while he appreciated the poets, he showed peculiaraptitude for philosophy and history. But his development was precocious. His zeal for learning and the excessive ardor with which he devotedhimself to physical exercises undermined his constitution. He became aninvalid and died childless, after exhibiting to his court for many yearsan example of patience in sickness and of dignified cheerfulness underthe restraints of enforced inaction. His wife, Elizabetta Gonzaga, oneof the most famous women of her age, was no less a pattern of nobleconduct and serene contentment. 

Such were the two last princes of the Montefeltro dynasty. [2] It isnecessary to bear their virtues in mind while dwelling on thecharacteristics of Italian despotism in the fifteenth century. The Duchyof Urbino, both as an established dynasty not founded upon violence, andalso as a center of really humane culture, formed, it is true, anexception to the rule of Italian tyrannies: yet, if we omitted thisstate from our calculation, confining our attention to the extravagantiniquities of the Borgia family, or to the eccentricities of theVisconti, or to the dark crimes of the court of Naples, we should gain afalse notion of the many-sided character of Italy, in which at that timevices and virtues were so strangely blended. We must never forget thatthe same society which produced a Filippo Maria Visconti, a GaleazzoMaria Sforza, a Sigismondo Malatesta, a Ferdinand of Aragon, gave birthalso to a Lorenzo de' Medici and a Federigo da Montefeltro. It is onlyby studying the lives of all these men in combination that we can obtaina correct conception of the manifold personality, the mingled polish andbarbarism, of the Italian Renaissance. 

 [1] It is not easy to say what a panegyrist of that period intended by 'a complete knowledge of Greek, ' or 'fluent Greek writing, ' in a Prince. I suspect, however, that we ought not to understand by these phrases anything like a real familiarity with Greek literature, but rather such superficial knowledge as would enable a reader of Latin books to understand allusions and quotations. Poliziano, it may be remarked, thought it worth while to flatter Guidobaldo in a Greek epigram. 

 [2] After Guidobaldo's death the duchy was continued by the Della Rovere family, one of whom, Giovanni, Prefect of Rome and nephew of Sixtus IV. , married the Duke's sister Giovanna in 1474. 

Some more detailed account of Baldassare Castiglione's treatise _IlCortegiano_ will form a fitting conclusion to this Chapter on theDespots. It is true that his book was written later than the period wehave been considering, [1] and he describes court life in its mostgraceful aspect. Yet all the antecedent history of the past twocenturies had been gradually producing the conditions under which hiscourtier flourished; and the Italian of the Renaissance, as he appearedto the rest of Europe, was such a gentleman as he depicts. For thehistorian his book is of equal value in its own department with thePrincipe of Machiavelli, the Autobiography of Benvenuto Cellini, and theDiary of Burchard. 

 [1] It was written in 1514, and first published in folio by the Aldi of Venice in 1528. We find an English translation so early as 1561 by Thomas Hoby. At this time it was in the hands of all the gentlefolk of Europe. It is interesting to compare the 'Cortegiano' with Della Casa's 'Galateo, ' published in 1558. The 'Galateo' professes to be a guide for gentlemen in social intercourse, and the minute rules laid down would satisfy the most exacting purist of the present century. In manners and their ethical analysis we have certainly gained nothing during the last three centuries. The principle upon which these precepts of conduct are founded is not etiquette or fashion, but respect for the sensibilities of others. It would be difficult to compose a more philosophical treatise on the lesser duties imposed upon us by the conditions of society--such minute matters as the proper way to blow the nose or use the napkin, being referred to the one rule of acting so as to cause no inconvenience to our neighbors. 

In the opening of his 'Cortegiano' Castiglione introduces us to thecourt of Urbino--refined, chivalrous, witty, cultivated, gentle--confessedly the purest and most elevated court in Italy. Hebrings together the Duchess Elizabetta Gonzaga; Emilia Pia, wife ofAntonio da Montefeltro, whose wit is as keen and active as that ofShakespeare's Beatrice; Pietro Bembo, the Ciceronian dictator of lettersin the sixteenth century; Bernardo Bibbiena, Berni's patron, the authorof 'Calandra, ' whose portrait by Raphael in the Pitti enables us toestimate his innate love of humor; Giuliano de' Medici, Duke of Nemours, of whom the marble effigy by Michael Angelo still guards the tomb in SanLorenzo; together with other knights and gentlemen less known tofame--two Genoese Fregosi, Gasparo Pallavicini, Lodovico, Count ofCanossa, Cesare Gonzaga, l' Unico Aretino, and Fra Serafino thehumorist. These ladies and gentlemen hold discourse together, as was thecustom of Urbino, in the drawing-room of the duchess during fourconsecutive evenings. The theme of their conversation is the PerfectCourtier. What must that man be who deserves the name of Cortegiano, and how must he conduct himself? The subject of discussion carries us atonce into a bygone age. No one asks now what makes the perfect courtier;but in Italy of the Renaissance, owing to the changes from republican todespotic forms of government which we have traced in the foregoingpages, the question was one of the most serious importance. Culture andgood breeding, the amenities of intercourse, the pleasures of theintellect, scarcely existed outside the sphere of courts; for one effectof the Revival of Learning had been to make the acquisition of politeknowledge difficult, and the proletariat was less cultivated then thanin the age of Dante. Men of ambition who desired to acquire a reputationwhether as soldiers or as poets, as politicians or as orators, came tocourt and served their chosen prince in war or at the council-table, oreven in humbler offices of state. To be able, therefore, to conducthimself with dignity, to know how to win the favor of his master and tosecure the good-will of his peers, to retain his personal honor and tomake himself respected without being hated, to inspire admiration and toavoid envy, to outshine all honorable rivals in physical exercises andthe craft of arms, to maintain a credable equipage and retinue, to beinstructed in the arts of polite intercourse, to converse with ease andwit, to be at home alike in the tilting-yard, the banquet-hall, theboudoir, and the council-chamber, to understand diplomacy, to livebefore the world and yet to keep a fitting privacy and distance, --theseand a hundred other matters were the climax and perfection of theculture of a gentleman. Courts being now the only centers in which itwas possible for a man of birth and talents to shine, it followed thatthe perfect courtier and the perfect gentleman were synonymous terms. Castiglione's treatise may therefore be called an essay on the characterof the true gentleman as he appeared in Italy. Eliminating all qualitiesthat are special to any art or calling, he defines those essentialcharacteristics which were requisite for social excellence in thesixteenth century. It is curious to observe how unchangeable are thelaws of real politeness and refinement. Castiglione's courtier is, withone or two points of immaterial difference, a modern gentleman, such asall men of education at the present day would wish to be. 

The first requisite in the ideal courtier is that he must be noble. TheCount of Canossa, who proposed the subject of debate, lays down this asan axiom. Gaspar Pallavicino denies the necessity[1] But after a livelydiscussion, his opinion is overruled, on the ground that, although thegentle virtues may be found among people of obscure origin, yet a manwho intends to be a courtier must start with the prestige of noblebirth. Next he must be skillful in the use of weapons and courageous inthe battle-field. He is not, however, bound to have the special scienceof a general, nor must he in times of peace profess unique devotion tothe art of war: that would argue a coarseness of nature or vainglory. Again, he must excel in all manly sports and exercises, so as, ifpossible, to beat the actual professors of each game, or feat of skillon their own ground. Yet here also he should avoid mere habits ofdisplay, which are unworthy of a man who aspires to be a gentleman andnot an athlete. Another indispensable quality is gracefulness in all hedoes and says. In order to secure this elegance, he must beware of everyform of affectation: 'Let him shun affectation, as though it were a mostperilous rock; and let him seek in everything a certain carelessness, tohide his art, and show that what he says or does comes from him withouteffort or deliberation. ' This vice of affectation in all its kinds, andthe ways of avoiding it, are discussed with a delicacy of insight whichwould do credit to a Chesterfield of the present century, sending forthhis son into society for the first time. Castiglione goes so far as tocondemn the pedantry of far-fetched words and the coxcombry of elaboratecostumes, as dangerous forms of affectation. His courtier must speak andwrite with force and freedom. He need not be a purist in his use oflanguage, but may use such foreign phrases and modern idioms as arecurrent in good society, aiming only at simplicity and clearness. Hemust add to excellence in arms polite culture in letters and soundscholarship, avoiding that barbarism of the French, who think itimpossible to be a good soldier and an accomplished student at the sametime. Yet his learning should be always held in reserve, to givebrilliancy and flavor to his wit, and not brought forth for merelyerudite parade. He must have a practical acquaintance with music anddancing; it would be well for him to sing and touch various stringed andkeyed instruments, so as to relax his own spirits and to make himselfagreeable to ladies. If he can compose verses and sing them to his ownaccompaniment, so much the better. Finally, he ought to understand thearts of painting and sculpture; for criticism, even though a man beneither poet nor artist, is an elegant accomplishment. Such are theprincipal qualities of the Cortegiano. 

 [1] Italy, earlier than any other European nation, developed theoretical democracy. Dante had defined true nobility to consist of personal excellence in a man or in his ancestors; he also called 'nobiltà' sister of 'filosofia. ' Poggio in his 'Dialogue De Nobilitate, ' into which he introduces Niccolo Niccoli and Lorenzo de' Medici (Cosimo's brother), decides that only merit constitutes true nobility. Hawking and hunting are far less noble occupations than agriculture; descent from a long line of historic criminals is no honor. French and English castle-life, and the robber-knighthood of Germany, he argues, are barbarous. Lorenzo pleads the authority of Aristotle in favor of noble blood; Poggio contests the passage quoted, and shows the superiority of the Latin word 'nobilitas' (distinction) over the Greek term [Greek: _eugeneia_] (good birth). The several kinds of aristocracy in Italy are then discussed. In Naples the nobles despise business and idle their time away. In Rome they manage their estates. In Venice and Genoa they engage in commerce. In Florence they either take to mercantile pursuits or live upon the produce of their land in idleness. The whole way of looking at the subject betrays a liberal and scientific spirit, wholly free from prejudice. Machiavelli ('Discorsi, ' i. 55) is very severe on the aristocracy, whom he defines as 'those who live in idleness on the produce of their estates, without applying themselves to agriculture or to any other useful occupation. ' He points out that the Venetian nobles are not properly so called, since they are merchants. The different districts of Italy had widely different conceptions of nobility. Naples was always aristocratic, owing to its connection with France and Spain. Ferrara maintained the chivalry of courts. Those states, on the other hand, which had been democratized, like Florence, by republican customs, or like Milan, by despotism, set less value on birth than on talent and wealth. It was not until the age of the Spanish ascendency (latter half of sixteenth century) that Cosimo I. Withdrew the young Florentines from their mercantile pursuits and enrolled them in his order of S. Stephen, and that the patricians of Genoa carried daggers inscribed 'for the chastisement of villeins. '

The precepts which are laid down for the use of his acquirements and hisgeneral conduct, resolve themselves into a strong recommendation of tactand caution. The courtier must study the nature of his prince, and showthe greatest delicacy in approaching him, so as to secure his favor, andto avoid wearying him with importunities. In tendering his advice hemust be modest; but he should make a point of never sacrificing his ownliberty of judgment. To obey his master in dishonorable things would bea derogation from his dignity; and if he discovers any meanness in thecharacter of the prince, it is better to quit his service. [1] A courtiermust be careful to create beforehand a favorable opinion of himself inplaces he intends to visit. Much stress is laid upon his choice ofclothes and the equipment of his servants. In these respects he shouldaim at combining individuality with simplicity, so as to produce animpression of novelty without extravagance or eccentricity. He must bevery cautious in his friendships, selecting his associates with care, and admitting only one or two to intimacy. 

 [1] From many passages in the 'Cortegiano' it is clear that Castiglione is painting the character of an independent gentleman, to whom self-culture in all humane excellence is of far more importance than the acquisition of the art of pleasing. Circumstances made the life of courts the best obtainable; but there is no trace of French 'oeil-de-boeuf' servility. 

In connection with the general subject of tact and taste, the CardinalBibbiena introduces an elaborate discussion of the different sorts ofjokes, which proves the high value attached in Italy to all displays ofwit. It appears that even practical jokes were not considered in badtaste, but that irreverence and grossness were tabooed as boorish. Mereobscenity is especially condemned, though it must be admitted that manyjests approved of at that time would now appear intolerable. But theessential point to be aimed at then, as now, was the promotion of mirthby cleverness, and not by mere tricks and clumsy inventions. 

In bringing this chapter on Italian Despotism in the fourteenth andfifteenth centuries to a conclusion, it will be well to cast a backwardglance over the ground which has been traversed. A great internal changetook place and was accomplished during this period. The free burghswhich flourished in the twelfth and thirteenth centuries, gave place totyrannies, illegal for the most part in their origin, and maintained byforce. In the absence of dynastic right, violence and craft wereinstruments by means of which the despots founded and preserved theirpower. Yet the sentiments of the Italians at large were not unfavorableto the growth of principalities. On the contrary, the forces which movesociety, the inner instinct of the nation, and the laws of progress anddevelopment, tended year by year more surely to the consolidation ofdespotisms. City after city lost its faculty for self-government, untilat last Florence, so long the center of political freedom, fell beneaththe yoke of her merchant princes. It is difficult for the historian notto feel either a monarchical or a republican bias. Yet this internal andgradual revolution in the states of Italy may be regarded neither as amatter for exultation in the cause of sovereignty, nor for lamentationover the decay of liberty. It was but part of an inevitable processwhich the Italians shared, according to the peculiarities of theircondition, in common with the rest of Europe. 

In tracing the history of the Visconti and the Sforzas our attention hasbeen naturally directed to the private and political vices of thedespot. As a contrast to so much violence and treachery, we have studiedthe character of one of the best princes produced in this period. Yet itmust be borne in mind that the Duke of Urbino was far lessrepresentative of his class than Francesco Sforza, and that the aims andnotions of Gian Galeazzo Visconti formed the ideal to which an Italianprince of spirit, if he had the opportunity, aspired. The history of artand literature in this period belongs to another branch of the inquiry;and a separate chapter must be devoted to the consideration of politicalmorality as theorized by the Italians at the end of these two centuriesof intrigue. But having insisted on the violence and vices of thetyrants, it seemed necessary to close the review of their age bydescribing the Italian nobleman as court-life made him. Castiglioneshows him at the very best: the darker shadows of the picture areomitted; the requirements of the most finished culture and the tone ofthe purest society in Italy are depicted with the elegance of a scholarand the taste of a true gentleman. The fact remains that the variousinfluences at work in Italy during the age of the despots had renderedthe conception of this ideal possible. Nowhere else in Europe could aportrait of so much dignity and sweetness, combining the courage of asoldier with the learning of a student and the accomplishments of anartist, the liberality of freedom with the courtesies of service, havebeen painted from the life and been recognized as the model which allmembers of polite society should imitate. Nobler characters and moreheroic virtues might have been produced by the Italian commonwealths ifthey had continued to enjoy their ancient freedom of self-government. Meanwhile we must render this justice to Italian despotism, that beneathits shadow was developed the type of the modern gentleman. 

CHAPTER IV. 

THE REPUBLICS. 

The different Physiognomies of the Italian Republics--The Similarity oftheir Character as Municipalities--The Rights of Citizenship--Causes ofDisturbance in the Commonwealths--Belief in the Plasticity ofConstitutions--Example of Genoa--Savonarola'sConstitution--Machiavelli's Discourse to Leo X. --Complexity of Interestsand Factions--Example of Siena--Small Size of Italian Cities--MutualMistrust and Jealousy of the Commonwealths--The notable Exception ofVenice--Constitution of Venice--Her wise System of Government--Contrastof Florentine Vicissitudes--The Magistracies of Florence--Balia andParlamento--The Arts of the Medici--Comparison of Venice and Florence inrespect to Intellectual Activity and Mobility--Parallels between Greeceand Italy--Essential Differences--The Mercantile Character of ItalianBurghs--The 'Trattato del Governo della Famiglia'--The Bourgeois Tone ofFlorence, and the Ideal of a Burgher--Mercenary Arms. 

The despotisms of Italy present the spectacle of states founded uponforce, controlled and molded by the will of princes, whose object ineach case has been to maintain usurped power by means of mercenary armsand to deprive the people of political activity. Thus the Italianprincipalities, however they may differ in their origin, the characterof their administration, or their relation to Church and Empire, alltend to one type. The egotism of the despot, conscious of his selfishaims and deliberate in their execution, formed the motive principle inall alike. 

The republics on the contrary are distinguished by strongly markedcharacteristics. The history of each is the history of the developmentof certain specific qualities, which modified the type of municipalorganization common to them all. Their differences consist chiefly inthe varying forms which institutions of a radically similar designassumed, and also in those peculiar local conditions which made theVenetians Levant merchants, the Perugians captains of adventure, theGenoese admirals and pirates, the Florentines bankers, and so forth. Each commonwealth contracted a certain physiognomy through the prolongedaction of external circumstances and by the maintenance of somepolitical predilection. Thus Siena, excluded from maritime commerce byits situation, remained, broadly speaking, faithful to the Ghibellineparty; while Perugia at the distance of a few miles, equally debarredfrom mercantile expansion, maintained the Guelf cause with pertinacity. The annals of the one city record a long succession of complicated partyquarrels, throughout the course of which the State continued free; theGuelf leanings of the other exposed it to the gradual encroachment ofthe Popes, while its civic independence was imperiled and enfeebled bythe contests of a few noble families. Lucca and Pistoja in like mannerare strongly contrasted, the latter persisting in a state of feud andfaction which delivered it bound hand and foot to Florence, the formerafter many vicissitudes attaining internal quiet under the dominion of anarrow oligarchy. 

But while recognizing these differences, which manifest themselvespartly in what may be described as national characteristics, and partlyin constitutional varieties, we may trace one course of historicalprogression in all except Venice. This is what natural philosophersmight call the morphology of Italian commonwealths. To begin with, theItalian republics were all municipalities. That is, like the Greekstates, they consisted of a small body of burghers, who alone had theprivileges of government, together with a larger population, who, though they paid taxes and shared the commercial and social advantagesof the city had no voice in its administration. Citizenship washereditary in those families by whom it had been once acquired, eachrepublic having its own criterion of the right, and guarding itjealously against the encroachments of non-qualified persons. InFlorence, for example, the burgher must belong to one of the Arts. [1]In Venice his name must be inscribed upon the Golden Book. Therivalries to which this system of municipal government gave rise were achief source of internal weakness to the commonwealths. Nor did theburghers see far enough or philosophically enough to recruit theirnumbers by a continuous admission of new members from the wealthy butunfranchised citizens. [2] This alone could have saved them from thedeath by dwindling and decay to which they were exposed. The Italianconception of citizenship may be set forth in the words of one of theiracutest critics, Donato Giannotti, who writes concerning the electorsin a state:[3] 'Non dico tutti gli abitanti della terra, ma tuttiquelli che hanno grado; cioè che hanno acquistato, o eglino o gliantichi loro, facultà d'ottenere i magistrate; e in somma che sono_participes imperandi et parendi_. ' No Italian had any notion ofrepresentative government in our sense of the term. The problem wasalways how to put the administration of the state most convenientlyinto the hands of the fittest among those who were qualified asburghers, and how to give each burgher his due share in the government;not how to select men delegated from the whole population. The wisestamong their philosophical politicians sought to establish a mixedconstitution, which should combine the advantages of principality, aristocracy, and democracy. Starting with the fact that the eligibleburghers numbered some 5, 000, and with the assumption that among thesethe larger portion would be content with freedom and a voice in theadministration, while a certain body were ambitious of honorabledistinctions, and a few aspired to the pomp of titular presidency, theythought that these several desires might be satisfied and reconciled ina republic composed of a general assembly of the citizens, a selectSenate, and a Doge. In these theories the influence of Aristotelianstudies[4] and the example of Venice are apparent. At the same time itis noticeable that no account whatever is taken of the remaining 95, 000who contributed their wealth and industry to the prosperity of thecity. [5] The theory of the State rests upon no abstract principle likethat of the divine right of the Empire, which determined Dante'sspeculation in the Middle Ages, or that of the divine right of kings, with which we Englishmen were made familiar in the seventeenth century, or that again of the rights of men, on which the democracies of Franceand America were founded. The right contemplated by the Italianpoliticians is that of the burghers to rule the commonwealth for theiradvantage. As a matter of fact, Venice was the only Italian republicwhich maintained this kind of oligarchy with success through centuriesof internal tranquillity. The rest were exposed to a series ofrevolutions which ended at last in their enslavement. 

 [1] Villari, _Life of Savonarola_, vol. I. P. 259, may be consulted concerning the further distinction of Benefiziati, Statuali, Aggravezzati, at Florence. See also Varchi, vol. I. Pp. 165-70. Consult Appendix ii. 

 [2] It must be mentioned that a provision for admitting deserving individuals to citizenship formed part of the Florentine Constitution of 1495. The principle was not, however, recognized at large by the republics. 

 [3] On the Government of Siena (vol. I. P. 351 of his collected works): 'I say not all the inhabitants of the state, but all those who have rank; that is, who have acquired, either in their own persons or through their ancestors, the right of taking magistracy, in short those who are participes imperandi et parendi. ' What has already been said in Chapter II. About the origin of the Italian Republics will explain this definition of burghership. 

 [4] It would be very interesting to trace in detail the influence of Aristotle's Politics upon the practical and theoretical statists of the Renaissance. The whole of Giannotti's works; the discourses of de' Pazzi, Vettori, Acciaiuoli, and the two Guicciardini on the State of Florence (_Arch. St. It. _ vol. I. ); and Machiavelli's _Discorso sul Reggimento di Firenze_, addressed to Leo X. , illustrate in general the working of Aristotelian ideas. At Florence, in 1495, Savonarola urged his Constitution on the burghers by appeals to Aristotle's doctrine and to the example of Venice [see Segni, p. 15, and compare the speeches of Pagolo Antonio Soderini and Guido Antonio Vespucci, in Guicciardini's _Istoria d' Italia_, vol. Ii. P. 155 of Rosini's edition, on the same occasion]. Segni, p. 86, mentions a speech of Pier Filippo Pandolfini, the arguments of which, he says, were drawn from Aristotle and illustrated by Florentine history. The Italian doctrinaires seem to have imagined that, by clever manipulation of existing institutions, they could construct a state similar to that called [Greek: _politeia_] by Aristotle, in which all sections of the community should be fairly represented. Venice, meanwhile, was a practical instance of the possible prosperity of such a constitution with a strong oligarchical complexion. 

 [5] These numbers, 100, 000 for the population, and 5, 000 for the burghers, are stated roundly. In Florence, when the Consiglio Maggiore was opened in 1495, it was found that the Florentines altogether numbered about 90, 000, while the qualified burghers were not more than 3, 200. In 1581 the population of Venice numbered 134, 890, whereof 1, 843 were adult patricians [see below, p. 209]. 

Intolerant of foreign rule, and blinded by the theoretical supremacy ofthe Empire to the need of looking beyond its own municipal institutions, each city in the twelfth century sought to introduce such a system intothe already existing machinery of the burgh as should secure itsindependence and place the government in the hands of its citizens. Butthe passing of bad laws, or the non-observance of wise regulations, or, again, the passions of individuals and parties, soon disturbed theequilibrium established in these little communities. Desire for morepower than their due prompted one section of the burghers to violence. The love of independence, or simple insubordination, drove anotherportion to resistance. Matters were further complicated by resident orneighboring nobles. Then followed the wars of factions, proscriptions, and exiles. Having banished their rivals, the party in power for thetime being remodeled the institutions of the republic to suit their ownparticular interest. Meanwhile the opposition in exile fomented everyelement of discontent within the city, which this short-sighted policywas sure to foster. Sudden revolutions were the result, attended in mostcases by massacres consequent upon the victorious return of the outlaws. To the action of these peccant humors--_umori_ is the word applied bythe elder Florentine historians to the troubles attendant uponfactions--must be added the jealousy of neighboring cities, the cupidityof intriguing princes, the partisanship of the Guelfs and Ghibellines, the treason and the egotism of mercenary generals, and the false foreignpolicy which led the Italians to rely for aid on France or Germany orSpain. Little by little, under the prolonged action of these disturbingforces, each republic in turn became weaker, more confused in policy, more mistrustful of itself and its own citizens, more subdivided intopetty but ineradicable factions, until at last it fell a prey either tosome foreign potentate, or to the Church, or else to an ambitious familyamong its members. The small scale of the Italian commonwealths, takensingly, favored rapid change, and gave an undue value to distinguishedwealth or unscrupulous ability among the burghers. The oscillationbetween democracy and aristocracy and back again, the repetition ofexhausting discords, and the demoralizing influences of occasionaldespotism, so broke the spirit of each commonwealth that in the end thecitizens forgot their ancient zeal for liberty, and were glad to accepttyranny for the sake of the protection it professed to extend to lifeand property. 

To these vicissitudes all the republics of Italy, with the exception ofVenice, were subject. In like manner, they shared in common the beliefthat constitutions could be made at will, that the commonwealth wassomething plastic, capable of taking the complexion and the formimpressed upon it by speculative politicians. So firmly rooted was thisconviction, and so highly self-conscious had the statesmen of Italybecome, partly by the experience of their shifting history, and partlyby their study of antiquity, that the idea of the State as somethingpossessed of organic vitality can scarcely be said to have existed amongthem. The principle of gradual growth, which gives its value, forexample, to the English Constitution, was not recognized by theItalians. Nor again had their past history taught them the necessity, sowell defined and recognized by the Greek statesmen, of maintaining afixed character at any cost in republics, which, in spite of their smallscale, aspired to permanence. [1] The most violent and arbitrary changeswhich the speculative faculty of a theorist could contrive, or which theprejudices of a party could impose, seemed to them not only possible butnatural. 

 [1] The value of the [Greek: _êthos_] was not wholly unrecognized by political theorists. Giannotti (vol. I. P. 160, and vol. Ii. P. 13), for example translates it by the word 'temperamento. '

A very notable instance of this tendency to treat the State as a plasticproduct of political ingenuity, is afforded by the annals of Genoa. After suffering for centuries from the vicissitudes common to allItalian free cities--discords between the Guelf and Ghibelline factions, between the nobles and the people, between the enfranchised citizens andthe proletariat--after submitting to the rule of foreign masters, especially of France and Milan, and after being torn in pieces by therival houses of Adorni and Fregosi, the Genoese at last received libertyfrom the hands of Andrea Doria in 1528. They then proceeded to form anew Constitution for the protection of their freedom; and in order todestroy the memory of the old parties which had caused their ruin, theyobliterated all their family names with the exception of twenty, underone or other of which the whole body of citizens were bound to enrollthemselves. [1] This was nothing less than an attempt to create new_gentes_ by effacing the distinctions established by nature andtradition. To parallel a scheme so artificial in its method, we must goback to the history of Sicyon and the changes wrought in the Doriantribes by Cleisthenes. 

 [1] See Varchi, _St. F. _ lib. Vii. Cap. 3. 

Short of such violent expedients as these, the whole history of townslike Florence reveals a succession of similar attempts. When, forexample, the Medici had been expelled in 1494, the Florentines foundthemselves without a working constitution, and proceeded to frame one. The matter was at first referred to two eminent jurists, Guido AntonioVespucci and Paolo Antonio Soderini, who argued for and against theestablishment of a Grand Council on the Venetian model, before theSignory in the Palazzo. At this juncture Savonarola in his sermon forthe third Sunday in Advent[1] suggested that each of the sixteenCompanies should form a plan, that these should be submitted to theGonfaloniers, who should choose the four best, and that from these fourthe Signory should select the most perfect. At the same time hepronounced himself in favor of an imitation of the Venetian ConsiglioGrande. His scheme, as is well known, was adopted. [2] Running throughthe whole political writings of the Florentine philosophers andhistorians, we find the same belief in artificial and arbitraryalterations of the state. Machiavelli pronounces his opinion that, inspite of the corruption of Florence, a wise legislator might effect hersalvation. [3] Skill alone was needed. There lay the wax; the scientificartist had only to set to his hand and model it. 

 [1] December 12, 1494. 

 [2] Segni (pp. 15, 16) says that Savonarola deserved to be honored for this Constitution by the Florentines no less than Numa by the Romans. Varchi (vol. I. P. 169) judges the Consiglio Grande to have been the only good institution ever adopted by the Florentines. We may compare Giannotti (_Sopra la Repubblica di Siena_ p. 346) for a similar opinion. Guicciardini, both in the _Storia d' Italia_ and the _Storia di Firenze_, gives to Savonarola the whole credit of having passed this Constitution. Nardi and Pitti might be cited to the same effect. None of these critics doubt for a moment that what was theoretically best ought to have been found practically feasible. 

 [3] _St. Fior. _ lib. Iii. 1. 'Firenze a quel grado è pervenuta che facilmente da uno savio dator di leggi potrebbe essere in qualunque forma di governo riordinata. '

This is the dominant thought which pervades his treatise on the rightordering of the State of Florence addressed to Leo X. [1] A moreconsummate piece of political mechanism than that devised by Machiavelliin this essay can hardly be imagined. It is like a clock with separateactions for hours, minutes, seconds, and the revolutions of the moon andplanets. All the complicated interest of parties and classes in thestate, the traditional pre-eminence of the Medicean family, the rightsof the Church, and the relation of Florence to foreign powers, have beencarefully considered and provided for. The defect of this consummatework of art is that it remained a mere machine, devised to meet theexigencies of the moment, and powerless against such perturbations asthe characters and passions of living men must introduce into theworking of a Commonwealth. Had Florence been a colony established in anew country with no neighbors but savages, or had it been an institutionprotected from without against the cupidity of selfish rivals, thensuch a constitution might have been imposed on it with profit. But toexpect that a city dominated by ancient prejudices, connected by athousand subtle ties not only with the rest of Italy but also with thestates of Europe, and rotten to the core in many of its most importantmembers, could be restored to pristine vigor by a doctrinaire howeverable, was chimerical. The course of events contradicted this vainexpectation. Meanwhile a few clear-headed and positive observers weredimly conscious of the instability of merely speculativeconstitution-making. Varchi, in a weighty passage on the defects of theFlorentine republic, points out that its weakness arose partly from theviolence of factions, but also in a great measure from the implicitfaith reposed in doctors of the law. [2] The history of the FlorentineConstitution, he says, is the history of changes effected by successionsof mutually hostile parties, each in its own interest subverting thework of its predecessor, and each in turn relying on the theories ofjurists, who without practical genius for politics make arbitrary rulesfor the control of state-affairs. Yet even Varchi shares the prevailingconviction that the proper method is first to excogitate a perfectpolitical system, and then to impress that like a stamp upon thematerial of the commonwealth. His criticism is directed against lawyers, not against philosophers and practical diplomatists. 

 [1] The language of this treatise is noteworthy. After discoursing on the differences between republics and principalities, and showing that Florence is more suited to the former, and Milan to the latter, form of government, he says: 'Ma perchè _fare_ principato dove starebbe bene repubblica, ' etc. . .. 'si perche Firenze _è subietto attissimo di pigliare questa forma_, ' etc. The phrases in italics show how thoroughly Machiavelli regarded the commonwealth as plastic. We may compare the whole of Guicciardini's elaborate essay 'Del Reggimento di Firenze' (_Op. Ined. _ vol. Ii. ), as well as the 'Discourses' addressed by Alessandro de' Pazzi, Francesco Vettori, Ruberto Acciaiuoli, Francesco Guicciardini, and Luigi Guicciardini, to the Cardinal Giulio de' Medici, on the settlement of the Florentine Constitution in 1522 (_Arch. Stor. _ vol. I. ). Not one of these men doubted that his nostrum would effect the cure of the republic undermined by slow consumption. 

 [2] _St. Fior. _ lib. Vi. Cap. 4; vol. I. P. 294. 

In this sense and to this extent were the republics of Italy theproducts of constructive skill; and great was the political sagacityeduced among the Italians by this state of things. The citizensreflected on the past, compared their institutions with those ofneighboring states, studied antiquity, and applied the whole of theirintelligence to the one aim of giving a certain defined form to thecommonwealth. Prejudice and passion distorted their schemes, and eachsuccessive modification of the government was apt to have a merelytemporary object. Thus the republics, as I have already hinted, lackedthat safeguard which the Greek states gained by clinging each to its owncharacter. The Greeks were no less self-conscious in their politicalpractice and philosophy; but after the age of the Nomothetæ, when theyhad experienced nearly every phase through which a commonwealth canpass, they recognized the importance of maintaining the traditionalcharacter of their constitutions inviolate. Sparta adhered with singulartenacity to the code of Lycurgus; and the Athenians, while they advancedfrom step to step in the development of a democracy, were bent onrealizing the ideal they had set before them. 

Religion, which in Greece, owing to its local and genealogicalcharacter, was favorable to this stability, proved in Italy one of themost potent causes of disorder. The Greek city grew up under theprotection of a local deity, whose blood had been transmitted in manyinstances to the chief families of the burgh. This ancestral god gaveindependence and autonomy to the State; and when the Nomothetesappeared, he was understood to have interpreted and formulated theinherent law that animated the body politic. Thus the commonwealth was adivinely founded and divinely directed organism, self-sufficing, with nodependence upon foreign sanction, with no question of its right. TheItalian cities, on the contrary, derived their law from the common _jus_of the Imperial system, their religion from the common font ofChristianity. They could not forget their origin, wrung with difficultyfrom existing institutions which preceded them and which still remainedascendant in the world of civilized humanity. The self-reliant autonomyof a Greek state, owing allegiance only to its protective deity and itsinherent Nomos, had no parallel in Italy outside Venice. All the otherrepublics were conscious of dependence on external power, and regardedthemselves as _ab initio_ artificial rather than natural creations. 

Long before a true constitutional complexion had been given to anyItalian State but Venice, parties had sprung up, and taken such firmroot that the subsequent history of the republics was the record oftheir factions. To this point I have already alluded; but it is tooimportant to be passed by without further illustration. The greatdivision of Guelf and Ghibelline introduced a vital discord into eachsection of the people, by establishing two antagonistic theoriesrespecting the right of supreme government. Then followed subordinatequarrels of the nobles with the townsfolk, schisms between thewealthier and poorer burghers, jealousies of the artisans and merchants, and factions for one or other eminent family. These different elementsof discord succeed each other with astonishing rapidity; and as eachgives place to another, it leaves a portion of its mischief rankling inthe body politic, until last there remains no possibility ofself-government. [1] The history of Florence, or Genoa, or Pistoja wouldsupply us with ample illustrations of each of these obstacles to theformation of a solid political temperament. But Siena furnishes perhapsthe best example of the extent to which such feuds could disturb astate. The way in which this city conducted its government for a longcourse of years, justified Varchi in calling it 'a jumble, so to speak, and chaos of republics, rather than a well-ordered and disciplinedcommonwealth. '[2] The discords of Siena were wholly internal. Theyproceeded from the wrangling of five successive factions, or Monti, asthe people of Siena called them. The first of these was termed the_Monte de' Nobili_; for Siena, like all Italian free burghs, hadoriginally been controlled by certain noble families, who formed thepeople and excluded the other citizens from offices of state. In courseof time the plebeians acquired wealth, and the nobles split into partiesamong themselves. To such a pitch were the quarrels of these noblescarried, that at last they found it impossible to conduct thegovernment, and agreed to relinquish it for a season to nine plebeianfamilies chosen from among the richest and most influential. This gaverise to the _Monte de' Nove_, who were supposed to hold the city incommission for the nobles, while the latter devoted themselves to theprosecution of their private animosities. Weakened by feuds, thepatricians fell a prey to their own creatures, the _Monte de' Nove_, whoin their turn ruled Siena like oligarchs, refusing to give up the powerwhich had been intrusted to them. In time, however, their insolencebecame insufferable. The populace rebelled, deposed the _Nove_, andinvested with supreme authority twelve other families of mixed origin. The _Monte de' Dodici_, created after this fashion, ran nearly the samecourse as their predecessors, except that they appear to haveadministered the city equitably. Getting tired of this form ofgovernment, the people next superseded them by sixteen men, chosen fromthe dregs of the plebeians, who assumed the title of _Riformatori_. Thisnew _Monte de' Sedici_ or _de' Riformatori_ showed much integrity intheir management of affairs, but, as is the wont of red republicans, they were not averse to bloodshed. Their cruelty caused the people, withthe help of the surviving patrician houses, together with the _Nove_and the _Dodici_, to rise and shake them off. The last governing bodyformed in this diabolical five-part fugue of crazy statecraft receivedthe name of _Monte del Popolo_, because it included all who were theneligible to the Great Council of the State. Yet the factions of theelder _Monti_ still survived; and to what extent they had absorbed thepopulation may be gathered from the fact that, on the defeat of the_Riformatori_, 4, 500 of the Sienese were exiled. It must be borne inmind that with the creation of each new _Monte_ a new party formeditself in the city, and the traditions of these parties were handed downfrom generation to generation. At last, in the beginning of thesixteenth century, Pandolfo Petrucci, who belonged to the _Monte de'Nove_, made himself in reality, if not in name, the master of Siena, andthe Duke of Florence, later on in the same century extended his dominionover the republic. [3] There is something almost grotesque in the barerecital of these successive factions; yet we must remember that beneaththeir dry names they conceal all elements of class and party discord. 

 [1] Machiavelli, in spite of his love of freedom, says (_St. Fior. _ lib. Vii. 1): 'Coloro che sperano che una repubblica possa essere unita assai di questa speranza s'ingannano. '

 [2] Vol. I. Pp. 324-30. See, too, Segni, p. 213, and Giannotti, vol. I. P. 341. De Comines describes Siena thus: 'La ville est de tout temps en partialité, et se gouverne plus follement que ville d'Italie. '

 [3] Siena capitulated, in 1555, to the Spanish troops, who resigned it to Duke Cosmo I. In 1557. 

What rendered the growth of parties still more pernicious, as alreadymentioned, was the smallness of Italian republics. Varchi reckoned10, 000 _fuochi_ in Florence, 50, 000 _bocche_ of seculars, and 20, 000_bocche_ of religious. According to Zuccagni Orlandini there were 90, 000Florentines in 1495, of whom only 3, 200 were burghers. Venice, accordingto Giannotti, counted at about the same period 20, 000 _fuochi_, each ofwhich supplied the state with two men fit to bear arms. Thesecalculations, though obviously rough and based upon no accurate returns, show that a republic of 100, 000 souls, of whom 5, 000 should be citizens, would have taken distinguished rank among Italian cities. [1] In a stateof this size, divided by feuds of every kind, from the highest politicalantagonism down to the meanest personal antipathy, changes were veryeasily effected. The slightest disturbance of the equilibrium in anyquarter made itself felt throughout the city. [2] The opinions of eachburgher were known and calculated. Individuals, by their wealth, theirpower of aiding or of suppressing poorer citizens, and the force oftheir personal ability, acquired a perilous importance. At Florence thepolitical balance was so nicely adjusted that the ringing of the greatbell in the Palazzo meant a revolution, and to raise the cry of _Palle_in the streets was tantamount to an outbreak in the Medicean interest. To call aloud _Popolo e libertà_ was nothing less than riot punishableby law. Segni tells how Jacopino Alamanni, having used these words nearthe statue of David on the Piazza in a personal quarrel, was beheadedfor it the same day. [3] The secession of three or four families from onefaction to another altered the political situation of a whole republic, and led perhaps to the exile of a sixth part of the enfranchisedpopulation. [4] After this would follow the intrigues of the outlawseager to return, including negotiations with lukewarm party-leaders inthe city, alliances with hostile states, and contracts which compromisedthe future conduct of the commonwealth in the interest of a fewrevengeful citizens. The biographies of such men as Cosimo de' Medicithe elder and Filippo Strozzi throw the strongest light upon thesedelicacies and complexities of party politics in Florence. 

 [1] It may be worth while to compare the accurate return of the Venetian population in 1581 furnished by Yriarte (Vie d'un Patricien de Venise, p. 96). The whole number of the inhabitants was 134, 600. Of these 1, 843 were adult patricians; 4, 309 women and children of the patrician class; Cittadini of all ages and both sexes, 3, 553; monks, nuns, and priests, 3, 969; Jews, 1, 043; beggars, 187. 

 [2] We might mention, as famous instances, the Neri and Bianchi factions introduced into Pistoja in 1296 by a quarrel of the Cancellieri family, the dismemberment of Florence in 1215 by a feud between the Buondelmonti and Amidei, the tragedy of Imelda Lambertazzi, which upset Bologna in 1273, the student riot which nearly delivered Bologna into the hands of Roméo de' Pepoli in 1321, the whole action of the Strozzi family at the period of the extinction of Florentine liberty, the petty jealousies of the Cerchi and Donati detailed by Dino Compagni, in 1294. 

 [3] Segni, _St. Fior_. P. 53. 

 [4] As an instance, take what Marco Foscari reported in 1527 to the Venetian Senate respecting the parties in Florence (_Rel. Ven. _ serie ii. Vol. I. P. 70). The _Compagnacci_, one of the three great parties, only numbered 800 persons. 

In addition to the evils of internal factions we must reckon all thesources of mutual mistrust to which the republics were exposed. As theItalians had no notion of representative government, so they neverconceived a confederation. The thirst for autonomy in each state was asgreat as of old among the cities of Greece. To be independent of asister republic, though such freedom were bought at the price of thetyranny of a native family was the first object of every commonwealth. At the same time this passion for independence was only equaled by thegreed of foreign usurpation. The second object of each republic was toextend its power at the expense of its neighbors. As Pisa swallowedAmalfi, so Genoa destroyed Pisa, and Venice did her best to crippleGenoa. Florence obliterated the rival burgh of Semifonte, and Milantwice reduced Piacenza to a wilderness. The notion that the greatmaritime powers of Italy or the leading cities of Lombardy shouldpermanently co-operate for a common purpose was never for a momententertained. Such leagues as were formed were understood to betemporary. When their immediate object had been gained, the membersreturned to their initial rivalries. Milan, when, on the occasion ofFilippo Maria Visconti's death, she had a chance of freedom, refused torecognize the liberties of the Lombard cities, and fell a prey toFrancesco Sforza. Florence, under the pernicious policy of Cosimo de'Medici, helped to enslave Milan and Bologna instead of entering into arepublican league against their common foes, the tyrants. Pisa, Arezzo, and the other subject cities of Tuscany were treated by her with suchselfish harshness that they proved her chiefest peril in the hour ofneed. [1] Competition in commerce increased the mutual hatred of thefree burghs. States like Venice, Florence, Pisa, Genoa, depending fortheir existence upon mercantile wealth, and governed by men ofbusiness, took every opportunity they could of ruining a rival in themarket. So mean and narrow was the spirit of Italian policy that no oneaccounted it unpatriotic or dishonorable for Florence to suck the verylife out of Pisa, or for Venice to strangle a competitor so dangerousas Genoa. 

 [1] See the instructions furnished to Averardo dei Medici, quoted by Von Reumont in his _Life of Lorenzo_, vol. Ii. P. 122, German edition. 

Thus the jealousy of state against state, of party against party, and offamily against family, held Italy in perpetual disunion; whilediplomatic habits were contracted which rendered the adoption of anysimple policy impossible. When the time came for the Italians to copewith the great nations of Europe, the republics of Venice, Genoa, Milan, Florence ought to have been leagued together and supported by the weightof the Papal authority. They might then have stood against the world. Instead of that, these cities presented nothing but mutual rancors, hostilities, and jealousies to the common enemy. Moreover, the Italianswere so used to petty intrigues and to a system of balance of powerwithin the peninsula, that they could not comprehend the magnitude ofthe impending danger. It was difficult for a politician of theRenaissance, accustomed to the small theater of Italian diplomacy, schooled in the traditions of Lorenzo de' Medici, swayed in hiscalculations by the old pretensions of Pope and Emperor, dominated bythe dread of Venice, Milan, and Naples, and as yet but dimly consciousof the true force of France or Spain, to conceive that absolutely theonly chance of Italy lay in union at any cost and under any form. Machiavelli indeed seems too late to have discerned this truth. But hehad been lessoned by events, which rendered the realization of hischerished schemes impossible; nor, could he find a Prince powerfulenough to attempt his Utopia. Of the Republics he had abandoned allhope. 

To the laws which governed the other republics of Italy, Venice offeredin many respects a notable exception. Divided from the rest of Italy bythe lagoons, and directed by her commerce to the Eastern shores of theMediterranean, Venice took no part in the factions which rent the restof the peninsula, and had comparatively little to fear from foreigninvasion. Her attitude was one of proud and almost scornful isolation. In the Lombard Wars of Independence she remained neutral, and her namedoes not appear among the Signataries to the Peace of Constance. Boththe Papacy and the Empire recognized her independence. Her true policyconsisted in consolidating her maritime empire and holding aloof fromthe affairs of Italy. As long as she adhered to this course, sheremained the envy and the admiration of the rest of Europe. [1] It wasonly when she sought to extend her hold upon the mainland that shearoused the animosity of the Italian powers, and had to bear the bruntof the League of Cambray alone. [2] Her selfish prudence had been asource of dread long before this epoch: when she became aggressive, shewas recognized as a common and intolerable enemy. 

 [1] De Comines, in his _Memoirs of the Reign of Charles VIII. _ (tom. Ii. P, 69), draws a striking picture of the impression made upon his mind by the good government of the state of Venice. This may be compared with what he says of the folly of Siena. 

 [2] See Mach. _1st. Fior. _ lib. I. 'Avendo loro con il tempo occupata Padova, Vicenza, Trevigi, e dipoi Verona, Bergamo e Brescia, e nel Reame e in Romagna molte città, cacciati dalla cupidità del dominare vennero in tanta opinione di potenza, che non solamente ai principi Italiani ma ai Rè oltramontani erano in terrore. Onde congiurati quelli contra di loro, in un giorno fu tolto loro quello stato che si avevano in molti anni con infiniti spendii guadagnato. E benchè ne abbino in questi ultimi tempi racquistato parte, non avendo racquistata nè la riputazione, nè le forze, a discrezione d'altri, come tutti gli altri principi Italiani vivono. ' It was Francesco Foscari who first to any important extent led the republic astray from its old policy. He meddled in Italian affairs, and sought to encroach upon the mainland. For this, and for the undue popularity he acquired thereby, the Council of Ten subjected him and his son Jacopo to the most frightfully protracted martyrdom that a relentless oligarchy has ever inflicted [1445-57]. 

The external security of Venice was equaled by her internal repose. Owing to continued freedom from party quarrels, the Venetians were ableto pursue a consistent course of constitutional development. They infact alone of the Italian cities established and preserved the characterof their state. Having originally founded a republic under thepresidency of a Doge, who combined the offices of general and judge, andruled in concert with a representative council of the chief citizens(697-1172), the Venetians by degrees caused this form of government toassume a strictly oligarchical character. They began by limiting theauthority of the Doge, who, though elected for life, was in 1032forbidden to associate his son in the supreme office of the state. In1172 the election of the Doge was transferred from the people to theGrand Council, who, as a co-opting body, tended to become a closearistocracy. In 1179 the Ducal power was still further restricted by thecreation of a senate called the Quarantia for the administration ofjustice; while in 1229 the Senate of the Pregadi, interposed between theDoge and the Grand Council, became an integral part of the constitution. To this latter Senate were assigned all deliberations upon peace andwar, the voting of supplies, the confirmation of laws. Both theQuarantia and the Pregadi were elected by the Consiglio Grande, which bythis time had become the virtual sovereign of the State of Venice. It isnot necessary here to mention the further checks imposed upon the powerof the Doges by the institution of officials named Correttori andInquisitori, whose special business it was to see that the coronationoaths were duly observed, or by the regulations which prevented thesupreme magistrate from taking any important action except in concertwith carefully selected colleagues. Enough has been said to show thatthe constitution of Venice was a pyramid resting upon the basis of theGrand Council and rising to an ornamented apex, through the Senate, andthe College, in the Doge. But in adopting this old simile--originallythe happy thought of Donato Giannotti, it is said[1]--we must notforget that the vital force of the Grand Council was felt throughoutthe whole of this elaborate system, and that the same individuals wereconstantly appearing in different capacities. It is this which makes thegreat event of the years 1297-1319 so all-important for the futuredestinies of Venice. At this period the Grand Council was restricted toa certain number of noble families who had henceforth the hereditaryright to belong to it. Every descendant of a member of the Grand Councilcould take his seat there at the age of twenty-five; and no newfamilies, except upon the most extraordinary occasions, were admitted tothis privilege. [2] By the Closing of the Grand Council, as theordinances of this crisis were termed, the administration of Venice wasvested for perpetuity in the hands of a few great houses. The finalcompletion was given to the oligarchy in 1311 by the establishment ofthe celebrated Council of Ten, [3] who exercised a supervision over allthe magistracies, constituted the Supreme Court of judicature, and endedby controlling the whole foreign and internal policy of Venice. Thechanges which I have thus briefly indicated are not to be regarded asviolent alterations in the constitution, but rather as successive stepsin its development. Even the Council of Ten, which seems at first sightthe most tyrannous state-engine ever devised for the enslavement of anation, was in reality a natural climax to the evolution which had beenconsistently advancing since the year 1172. Created originally duringthe troublous times which succeeded the closing of the Grand Council, for the express purpose of curbing unruly nobles and preventing theemergence of conspirators like Tiepolo, the Council of Ten werespecially designed to act as a check upon the several orders in thestate and to preserve its oligarchical character inviolate. They wereelected by the Consiglio Grande, and at the expiration of their officewere liable to render strict account of all that they had done. Nor wasthis magistracy coveted by the Venetian nobles. On the contrary, soburdensome were its duties, and so great was the odium which from timeto time the Ten incurred in the discharge of their functions, that itwas not always found easy to fill up their vacancies. A law had even tobe passed that the Ten had not completed their magistracy before theirsuccessors were appointed. [4] They may therefore be regarded as a selectcommittee of the citizens, who voluntarily delegated dictatorial powersto this small body in order to maintain their own ascendency, tocentralize the conduct of important affairs, to preserve secrecy in theadministration of the republic, and to avoid the criticism to which themore public government of states like Florence was exposed. [5] Theweakness of this portion of the state machinery was this: created withill-defined and almost unlimited authority, [6] designed to supersede theother public functionaries on occasions of great moment, and composed ofmen whose ability placed them in the very first rank of citizens, theTen could scarcely fail, as time advanced, to become a permanentlyoppressive power--a despotism within the bosom of an oligarchy. Thus inthe whole mechanism of the state of Venice we trace the action of apermanent aristocracy tolerating, with a view to its own supremacy, anamount of magisterial control which in certain cases, like that of thetwo Foscari, amounted to the sternest tyranny. By submitting to theCouncil of Ten the nobility of Venice secured its hold upon the peopleand preserved unity in its policy. 

 [1] Vol. Ii. Of his works, p. 37. On p. 29 he describes the population of Venice as divided into 'Popolari, ' or plebeians, exercising small industries, and so forth: 'Cittadini, ' or the middle class, born in the state, and of more importance than the plebeians; 'Gentiluomini, ' or masters of Venice by sea and land, about 3, 000 in number, corresponding to the burghers of Florence. What he says about the Constitution refers solely to this upper class. The elaborate work of M. Yriarte, _La Vie d'un Patricien de Venise an Seizième Siècle_, Paris, 1874, contains a complete analysis of the Venetian state-machine. See in particular what he says about the helplessness of the Doges, ch. Xiii. 'Rex in foro, senator in curiâ, captivus in aulâ, ' was a current phrase which expressed the contrast between their dignity of parade and real servitude. They had no personal freedom, and were always ruined by office. It was necessary to pass a law compelling the Doge elect to accept the onerous distinction thrust upon him. The Venetian oligarchs argued that it was good that one man should die for the people. 

 [2] See Giannotti, vol. Ii. P. 55, for the mention of fifteen, admitted on the occasion of Baiamonte Tiepolo's conspiracy, and of thirty ennobled during the Genoese war. 

 [3] The actual number of this Council was seventeen, for the Ten associated with the Signoria, which consisted of the Doge and six Counselors. 

 [4] Giannotti, vol. Ii. P. 123. 

 [5] The diplomatic difficulties of a popular government, a 'governo largo, ' as opposed to a 'governo stretto, ' are set forth with great acumen by Guicciardini, _Op. Ined. _ vol. Ii. P. 84. Cf. Vol. Iii. P. 272. 

 [6] 'è la sua autorità pari a quella del Consiglio de' Pregati e di utta la città, ' says Giannotti, vol. Ii. P. 120. 

No state has ever exercised a greater spell of fascination over itscitizens than Venice. Of treason against the Republic there was little. Against the decrees of the Council, arbitrary though they might be, noone sought to rebel. The Venetian bowed in silence and obeyed, knowingthat all his actions were watched, that his government had long arms inforeign lands, and that to arouse revolt in a body of burghers sothoroughly controlled by common interests, would be impossible. Furthersecurity the Venetians gained by their mild and beneficentadministration of subject cities, and by the prosperity in which theirpopulation flourished. When, during the war of the League of Cambray, Venice gave liberty to her towns upon the mainland, they voluntarilyreturned to her allegiance. At home, the inhabitants of the lagoons, whohad never seen a hostile army at their gates, and whose taxes were lightin comparison with those of the rest of Italy, regarded the nobles asthe authors of their unexampled happiness. Meanwhile, these nobles weremerchants. Idleness was unknown in Venice. Instead of excogitating newconstitutions or planning vengeance against hereditary foes the Venetianattended to his commerce on the sea, swayed distant provinces, watchedthe interests of the state in foreign cities, and fought the navalbattles of the republic. It was the custom of Venice to employ herpatricians only on the sea as admirals, and never to intrust her armiesto the generalship of burghers. This policy had undoubtedly its wisdom;for by these means the nobles had no opportunity of intriguing on alarge scale in Italian affairs, and never found the chance of growingdangerously powerful abroad. But it pledged the State to that system ofpaid condottieri and mercenary troops, jealously watched and scarcelyever trustworthy, which proved nearly as ruinous to Venice as it did toFlorence. 

It is difficult to imagine a greater contrast than that which ispresented by Florence to Venice. While Venice pursued one consistentcourse of gradual growth, and seemed immovable, Florence remained inperpetual flux, and altered as the strength of factions or ofparty-leaders varied. [1] When the strife of Guelfs and Ghibellines, Neri, and Bianchi, had exhausted her in the fourteenth century, shesubmitted for a while to the indirect ascendency of the kings of Naples, who were recognized as Chiefs of the Guelf Party. Thence she passed fora few months into the hands of a despot in the person of the Duke ofAthens (1342-43). After the confirmation of her republican liberty, followed a contest between the proletariat and the middle classes(Ciompi 1378). During the fifteenth century she was kept continuallydisturbed by the rivalry of her great merchant families. The rule of theAlbizzi, who fought the Visconti and extended the Florentine territoryby numerous conquests, was virtually the despotism of a close oligarchy. This phase of her career was terminated by the rise of the Medici, whoguided her affairs with a show of constitutional equity for fourgenerations. In 1494, this state of things was violently shaken. TheFlorentines expelled the Medici, who had begun to throw off their maskand to assume the airs of sovereignty; then they reconstituted theirCommonwealth as nearly as they could upon the model of Venice, and tothis new form of government Savonarola gave a quasi-theocraticcomplexion by naming Christ the king of Florence. [2] But the internalelements of the discord were too potent for the maintenance of thisrégime. The Medici were recalled; and this time Florence fell under theshadow of Church-rule, being controlled by Leo X. And Clement VII. , through the hands of prelates whom they made the guardians and advisersof their nephews. In 1527 a final effort for liberty shed undying lusteron the noblest of Italian cities. The sack of Rome had paralyzed thePope. His family were compelled to quit the Medicean palace. The GrandCouncil was restored: a Gonfalonier was elected; Florence suffered thehardships of her memorable siege. At the end of her trials, menacedalike by Pope and Emperor, who shook hands over her prostrate corpse, betrayed by her general, the infamous Malatesta Baglioni, and sold byher own selfish citizens, she had to submit to the hereditarysovereignty of the Medici. It was in vain that Lorenzino of that housepretended to play Brutus and murdered his cousin the Duke Alessandro in1536. Cosimo succeeded in the same year, and won the title of GrandDuke, which he transmitted to a line of semi-Austrian princes. 

 [1] 'Nunquam in eodem statu permanserunt, ' says Marco Foscari (as quoted above, p. 42 of his report). The flux of Florence struck a Venetian profoundly. 

 [2] The Gonfalonier Capponi put up a tablet on the Public Palace, in 1528, to this effect: 'Jesus Christus Rex Florentini Populi S. F. Decreto electus. ' This inscription is differently given. See Varchi, vol. I. P. 266; Segni, p. 46. Nothing is more significant of the difference between Venice and Florence than the political idealism implied in this religious consecration of the republic by statute. In my essay on 'Florence and the Medici' (_Sketches and Studies in Italy_) I have attempted to condense the internal history of the Republic and to analyze the state-craft of the Medici. 

Throughout all these vicissitudes every form and phase of republicangovernment was advocated, discussed, and put in practice by theFlorentines. All the arts of factions, all the machinations of exiles, all the skill of demagogues, all the selfishness of party-leaders, allthe learning of scholars, all the cupidity of subordinate officials, allthe daring of conspirators, all the ingenuity of theorists, and all themalice of traitors, were brought successively or simultaneously intoplay by the burghers, who looked upon their State as something theymight mold at will. One thing at least is clear amid so much apparentconfusion, that Florence was living a vehemently active andself-conscious life, acknowledging no principle of stability in herconstitution, but always stretching forward after that ideal_Reggimento_ which was never realized. [1]

 [1] In his 'Proemio' to the 'Trattato del Reggimento di Firenze, Guicciardini thus describes the desideratum: 'introdurre in Firenze un governo onesto, bene ordinato, e che veramente si potesse chiamare libero, il che dalla sua prima origine insino a oggi non è mai stato cittadino alcuno che abbia saputo o potuto fare. '

It is worth while to consider more in detail the different magistraciesby which the government of Florence was conducted between the years of1250 and 1531, and the gradual changes in the constitution whichprepared the way for the Medicean tyranny. [1] It is only thus anaccurate conception of the difference between the republican systems ofVenice and of Florence can be gained. Before the date 1282, which may befixed as the turning-point in Florentine history we hear of twelveAnziani, two chosen for each Sestiere of the city, acting in concertwith a foreign Podestà, and a Captain of the People charged withmilitary authority. At this time no distinction was made between noblesand plebeians; and the town, though Guelf, had not enacted rigorous lawsagainst the Ghibelline families. Towards the end of the thirteenthcentury, however, important, changes were effected in the very elementsof the commonwealth. The Anziani were superseded by the Priors of theArts. Eight Priors, together with a new officer called the Gonfalonierof Justice, formed the Signoria, dwelling at public charge in thePalazzo and holding office only for two months. [2] No one who had notbeen matriculated into one of the Arti or commercial guilds couldhenceforth bear office in the state. At the same time severe measures, called Ordinanze della Giustizia, were passed, by which the nobles werefor ever excluded from the government, and the Gonfalonier of Justicewas appointed to maintain civil order by checking their pride andturbulence. [3] These modifications of the constitution, effected between1282 and 1292, gave its peculiar character to the Florentine republic. Henceforward Florence was governed solely by merchants. Both Varchi andMachiavelli have recorded unfavorable opinions of the statute whichreduced the republic of Florence to a commonwealth of shop-keepers. [4]But when we read these criticisms, we must bear in mind the internecineferocity of party-strife at this period, and the discords to which acity divided between a territorial aristocracy and a commercialbourgeoisie was perpetually exposed. If anything could make theOrdinanze della Giustizia appear rational, it would be a cool perusal ofthe _Chronicle_ of Matarazzo, which sets forth the wretched state ofPerugia owing to the feuds of its patrician houses, the Oddi and theBaglioni. [5] Peace for the republic was not, however, secured by thesestrong measures. The factions of the Neri and Bianchi opened thefourteenth century with battles and proscriptions; and in 1323 theconstitution had again to be modified. At this date the Signoria ofeight Priors with the Gonfalonier of Justice, the College of the twelveBuonuomini, and the sixteen Gonfaloniers of the companies--calledcollectively _i tre maggiori_, or the three superior magistracies--wererendered eligible only to Guelf citizens of the age of thirty, who hadqualified in one of the seven Arti Maggiori, and whose names were drawnby lot. This mode of election, the most democratic which it is possibleto adopt, held good through all subsequent changes in the state. Itsimmediate object was to quiet discontent and to remove intrigue byopening the magistracies to all citizens alike. But, as Nardi haspointed out, it weakened the sense of responsibility in the burghers, who, when their names were once included in the bags kept for thepurpose, felt sure of their election, and had no inducement to maintaina high standard of integrity. Sismondi also dates from this epoch thewithdrawal of the Florentines from military service. [6] Nor, as thesequel shows, was the measure efficient as a check upon the personalambition of encroaching party leaders. The _Squittino_ and the _Borse_became instruments in the hands of the Medici for the consolidation oftheir tyranny. [7] By the end of the fourteenth century (about 1378)theFlorentines had to meet a new difficulty. The Guelf citizens began toabuse the so-called Law of Admonition, by means of which the Ghibellineswere excluded from the government. This law had formed an essential partof the measures of 1323. In the intervening half-century a newaristocracy, distinguished by the name of _nobili popolani_, had grownup and were now threatening the republic with a close oligarchy. [8] Thediscords which had previously raged between the people and thepatricians were now transferred to this new aristocracy and theplebeians. It was found necessary to abolish the Admonition, which hadbeen made a pretext of excluding all _novi homines_ from the government, and to place the members of the inferior Arti on the same footing asthose of the superior. [9] At this epoch the Medici, who neither belongedto the ancient aristocracy nor y the more distinguished houses of the_nobili popolani_, but rather to the so-called _gente grassa_ orsubstantial tradesmen, first acquired importance. It was by a law ofSalvestro de' Medici's in 1378 that the constitution received its finaldevelopment in the direction of equality. Yet after all this leveling, and in the vehement efforts made by the proletariat on the occasion ofthe Ciompi outbreak, the exclusive nature of the Florentine republic wasmaintained. The franchise was never extended to more than the burghers, and the matter in debate was always virtually, who shall be allowed torank as citizen upon the register? In fact, by using the pregnant wordsof Machiavelli, we may sum up the history of Florence to this point inone sentence: 'Di Firenze in prima si divisono intra loro i nobili, dipoi i nobili e il popolo, e in ultimo il popolo e la plebe; e moltevolte occorse che una di queste parti rimasa superiore, si divise indue. '[10]

 [1] I will place in an appendix (No. Ii. ) translations of Varchi, book iii. Sections 20-22, and Nardi, book i. Cap. 4, which give complete and clear accounts of the Florentine constitution after 1292. 

 [2] See Machiavelli, _Ist. Fior. _ lib. Ii. Sect. II. The number of the Priors was first three, then six, and finally eight. Up to 1282 the city had been divided into Sestieri. It was then found convenient to divide it into quarters, and the numbers followed this alteration. 

 [3] Machiavelli, _Ist. Fior. _ lib. Ii. Sect. 13, may be consulted for the history of Giano della Bella and his memorable ordinance. Dino Compagni's _Chronicle_ contains the account of a contemporary. 

 [4] See Varchi, vol. I. P. 169; Mach. _Ist. Fior. _ end of book ii. 

 [5] _Archivio Storico_, vol. Xvi. See also the article 'Perugia, ' in my _Sketches in Italy and Greece_. 

 [6] Vol. Iii. P. 347. 

 [7] See App. Ii. For the phrases 'Squittino' and 'Borse. '

 [8] Of these new nobles the Albizzi and Ricci, deadly foes, were the most eminent. The former strove to exclude the Medici from the government. 

 [9] The number of the Arti varied at different times. Varchi treats of them as finally consisting of seven maggiori and fourteen minori. 

 [10] Proemio to _Storia Fiorentina_. 'In Florence the nobles first split up, then the nobles and the people, lastly the people and the multitude; and it often happened that when one of these parties got the upper hand, it divided into two camps. ' For the meaning of _Popolo_ see above, p. 55. 

In the next generation the constitutional history of Florence exhibits anew phase. The equality which had been introduced into all classes ofthe commonwealth, combined with an absence of any state machinery likethat of Venice, exposed Florence at this period to the encroachments ofastute and selfish parvenus. The Medici, who had hitherto been nobodies, begin now to aspire to despotism. Partly by his remarkable talent forintrigue, partly by the clever use which he made of his vast wealth, andpartly by espousing the plebeian cause, Cosimo de' Medici succeeded inmonopolizing the government. It was the policy of the Medici to create aparty dependent for pecuniary aid upon their riches, and attached totheir interests by the closest ties of personal necessity. At the sametime they showed consummate caution in the conduct of the state, andexpended large sums on works of public utility. There was nothing meanin their ambition; and though posterity must condemn the arts by whichthey sought to sap the foundations of freedom in their native city, weare forced to acknowledge that they shared the noblest enthusiasms oftheir brilliant era. Little by little they advanced so far in theenslavement of Florence that the elections of all the magistrates, though still conducted by lot, were determined at their choice: thenames of none but men devoted to their interests were admitted to thebags from which the candidates for office were selected, whileproscriptive measures of various degrees of rigor excluded their enemiesfrom participation in the government. [1] At length in 1480 the wholemachinery of the republic was suspended by Lorenzo de' Medici in favorof the Board of Seventy, whom he nominated, and with whom, acting like aPrivy Council, he administered the state. [2] It is clear that thisrevolution could never have been effected without a succession of coupsd'état. The instrument for their accomplishment lay ready to the handsof the Medicean party in the pernicious system of the Parlamento andBalia, by means of which the people, assembled from time to time in thepublic square, and intimidated by the reigning faction, intrusted fullpowers to a select committee nominated in private by the chiefs of thegreat house. [3] It is also clear that so much political roguery couldnot have been successful without an extensive demoralization of theupper rank of citizens. The Medici in effect bought and sold the honorof the public officials, lent money, jobbed posts of profit, and winkedat peculation, until they had created a sufficient body of _âmesdamnées_, men who had everything to gain by a continuance of theircorrupt authority. The party so formed, including even suchdistinguished citizens as the Guicciardini, Baccio Valori, and FrancescoVettori, proved the chief obstacle to the restoration of Florentineliberty in the sixteenth century. 

 [1] What Machiavelli says (_Ist. Fior. _ vii. 1) about the arts of Cosimo contains the essence of the policy by which the Medici rose. Compare v. 4 and vii. 4-6 for his character of Cosimo. Guicciardini (_Op. Ined. _ vol. Ii. P. 68) describes the use made of extraordinary taxation as a weapon of offense against his enemies, by Cosimo: 'usò le gravezze in luogo de' pugnali che communemente suole usare chi ha simili reggimenti nelle mani. ' The Marchese Gino Capponi (_Arch. Stor. _ vol. I. Pp. 315-20) analyzes the whole Medicean policy in a critique of great ability. 

 [2] Guicciardini (_Op. Ined. _ vol. Ii. Pp. 35-49) exposes the principle and the _modus operandi_ of this Council of Seventy, by means of which Lorenzo controlled the election of the magistracies, diverted the public moneys to his own use, and made his will law in Florence. The councils which he superseded at this date were the Consiglio del Popolo and the Consiglio del Comune, about which see Nardi, lib i. Cap. 4. 

 [3] For the operation of the Parlamento and Balia, see Varchi, vol. Ii. P. 372; Segni, p. 199; Nardi, lib. Vi. Cap. 4. Segni says: 'The Parlamento is a meeting of the Florentine people on the Piazza of the Signory. When the Signory has taken its place to address the meeting, the piazza is guarded by armed men, and then the people are asked whether they wish to give absolute power (Balia) and authority to the citizens named, for their good. When the answer, yes, prompted partly by inclination and partly by compulsion, is returned, the Signory immediately retires into the palace. This is all that is meant by this parlamento, which thus gives away the full power of effecting a change in the state. ' The description given by Marco Foscari, p. 44 (loc. Cit. Supr. ) is to the same effect, but the Venetian exposes more clearly the despotic nature of the institution in the hands of the Medici. It is well known how hostile Savonarola was to an institution which had lent itself so easily to despotism. This couplet he inscribed on the walls of the Council Chamber, in 1495:--

 'E sappi che chi vuol parlamento Vuol torti dalle mani il reggimento. '

 Compare the proverb, 'Chi disse parlamento disse guastamento. '

This tyranny of a commercial family, swaying the republic without thetitle and with but little of the pomp of princes, subsisted until thehereditary presidency of the state was conferred upon Alessandro de'Medici, Duke of Cività di Penna, in 1531. Cosimo his successor, obtainedthe rank of Grand Duke from Pius V. In 1569, and his son received theimperial sanction to the title in 1575. The re-establishment at twodifferent periods of a free commonwealth upon the sounder basis of theConsiglio Grande (1494-1512 and 1527-30) formed but two episodes in thehistory of this masked but tenacious despotism. Had Savonarola'sconstitution been adopted in the thirteenth instead of at the end of thefifteenth century, the stability of Florence might have been secured. But at the latter date the roots of the Medicean influence were toowidely intertwined with private interests, the jealousies of classes andof factions were too inveterate, for any large and wholesome form ofpopular government to be universally acceptable. Besides, the burghershad been reduced to a nerveless equality of servitude, in which ambitionand avarice took the place of patriotism; while the corruption ofmorals, fostered by the Medici for the confirmation of their ownauthority, was so widely spread as to justify Segni, Varchi, Giannotti, Guicciardini, and Machiavelli in representing the Florentines as equallyunable to maintain their liberty and to submit to control. 

The historical vicissitudes of Florence were no less remarkable than theunity of Venice. If in Venice we can trace the permanent and corporateexistence of a state superior to the individuals who composed it, Florence exhibits the personal activity and conscious effort of hercitizens. Nowhere can the intricate relations of classes to thecommonwealth be studied more minutely than in the annals of Florence. Inno other city have opinions had greater value in determining historicalevents; and nowhere was the influence of character in men of mark morenotable. In this agitated political atmosphere the wonderful Florentineintelligence, which Varchi celebrated as the special glory of the Tuscansoil, and which Vasari referred to something felicitous in Tuscan air, was sharpened to the finest edge. [1] Successive generations of practicaland theoretical statesmen trained the race to reason upon government, and to regard politics as a science. Men of letters were at the sametime also prominent in public affairs. When, for instance, the exiles of1529 sued Duke Alessandro before Charles V. At Naples, Jacopo Nardi drewup their pleas, and Francesco Guicciardini rebutted them in the interestof his master. Machiavelli learned his philosophy at the Courts ofFrance and Germany and in the camp of Cesare Borgia. Segni shared theanxieties of Nicolo Capponi, when the Gonfalonier was impeached for hightreason to the state of Florence. This list might be extended almostindefinitely, with the object of proving the intimate connection whichsubsisted at Florence between the thinkers and the actors. No otherEuropean community of modern times has ever acquired so subtle a senseof its own political existence, has ever reasoned upon its past historyso acutely, or has ever displayed so much ingenuity in attempting tocontrol the future. Venice on the contrary owed but little to thecreative genius of her citizens. In Venice the state was everything: theindividual was almost nothing. We find but little reflection uponpolitics, and no speculative philosophy of history among the Venetiansuntil the date of Trifone Gabrielli and Paruta. Their records are allpositive and detailed. The generalizations and comparisons of theFlorentines are absent; nor was it till a late date of the Renaissancethat the Venetian history came to be written as a whole. It would seemas though the constitutional stability which formed the secret of thestrength of Venice was also the source of comparative intellectualinertness. This contrast between the two republics displayed itself evenin their art. Statues of Judith, the tyrannicide, and of David, theliberator of his country, adorned the squares and loggie of Florence. The painters of Venice represented their commonwealth as a beautifulqueen receiving the homage of her subjects and the world. Florence hadno mythus similar to that which made Venice the Bride of the Sea, andwhich justified the Doge in hailing Caterina Cornaro as daughter of S. Mark's (1471). It was in the personal courage and intelligence ofindividual heroes that the Florentines discovered the counterpart oftheir own spirit; whereas the Venetians personified their city as awhole, and paid their homage to the Genius of the State. 

 [1] Varchi, ix. 49; Vasari, xii. P. 158; Burckhardt, p. 270. 

It is not merely fanciful to compare Athens, the city of self-consciouspolitical activity, variable, cultivated, and ill-adapted by its veryfreedom for prolonged stability, with Florence; Sparta, firmly basedupon an ancient constitution, indifferent to culture, and solid at thecost of some rigidity, with Venice. As in Greece the philosophers ofAthens, especially Plato and Aristotle, wondered at the immobility ofSparta and idealized her institutions; so did the theorists of Florence, Savonarola, Giannotti, Guicciardini, look with envy at the statemachinery which secured repose and liberty for Venice. The parallelbetween Venice and Sparta becomes still more remarkable when we inquireinto the causes of their decay. Just as the Ephors, introduced at firstas a safeguard to the constitution, by degrees extinguished theinfluence of the royal families, superseded the senate, and exercised atyrannous control over every department of the state; so the Council ofTen, dangerous because of its vaguely defined dictatorial functions, reduced Venice to a despotism. [1] The gradual dwindling of the Venetianaristocracy, and the impoverishment of many noble families, whichrendered votes in the Grand Council venal, and threw the power into thehands of a very limited oligarchy, complete the parallel. [2] One of thechief sources of decay both to Venice and to Sparta was thatshortsighted policy which prevented the nobles from recruiting theirranks by the admission of new families. The system again of secretjustice, the espionage, and the calculated terrorism, by means of whichboth the Spartan Ephoralty and the Venetian Council imposed their willupon the citizens, were stifling to the free life of a republic. [3]Venice in the end became demoralized in politics and profligate inprivate life. Her narrowing oligarchy watched the national degenerationwith approval, knowing that it is easier to control a vitiated populacethan to curb a nation habituated to the manly virtues. 

 [1] Aristotle terms the Spartan Ephoralty [Greek: _isotyrannos_]. Giannotti (vol-ii. P. 120) compares the Ten to dictators. We might bring the struggles of the Spartan kings with the Ephoralty into comparison with the attempts of the Doges Falieri and Foscari to make themselves the chiefs of the republic in more than name. Müller, in his _Dorians_, observes that 'the Ephoralty was the moving element, the principle of change, in the Spartan constitution, and, in the end, the cause of its dissolution. ' Sismondi remarks that the precautions which led to the creation of the Council of Ten 'dénaturaient entièrement la constitution de l'état. '

 [2] See what Aristotle in the _Politics_ says about [Greek: _oliganthrôpia_], and the unequal distribution of property. As to the property of the Venetian nobles, see Sanudo, _Vite dei Duchi_, Murat. Xxii. P. 1194, who mentions the benevolences of the richer families to the poor. They built houses for aristocratic paupers to live in free of rent. 

 [3] A curious passage in Plutarch's _Life of Cleomenes_ (Clough's Translation, vol. Iv. P. 474) exactly applies to the Venetian statecraft:--'They, the Spartans, worship Fear, not as they do supernatural powers which they dread, esteeming it hurtful, but thinking their polity is chiefly kept up by fear . .. And therefore the Lacedæmonians placed the temple of Fear by the Syssitium of the Ephors, having raised that magistracy to almost regal authority. '

Between Athens and Florence the parallel is not so close. These tworepublics, however, resemble one another in the freedom and variety oftheir institutions. In Athens, as in Florence, there was constant changeand a highly developed political consciousness. Eminent men played thesame important part in both. In both the genius of individuals was evenstronger than the character of the state. Again, as Athens displayedmore of a Panhellenic feeling than any other Greek city, so Florence wasinvariably more alive to the interests of Italy at large than any otherstate of the peninsula. Florence, like Athens, was the center of culturefor the nation. Like Athens, she give laws to her sister towns inlanguage, in literature, in fine arts, poetry, philosophy, and history. Without Florence it is not probable that Italy would have taken theplace of proud pre-eminence she held so long in Europe. Florence neverattained to the material greatness of Athens, because her power, relatively to the rest of Italy, was slight, her factions wereincessant, and her connection with the Papacy was a perpetual source ofweakness. But many of the causes which ruined Athens were in fulloperation at Florence. First and foremost was the petulant and variabletemper of a democracy, so well described by Plato, and so ably analyzedby Machiavelli. The want of agreement among the versatile Florentines, fertile in plans but incapable of concerted action, was a chief sourceof political debility. Varchi and Segni both relate how, in spite ofwealth, ability, and formidable forces, the Florentine exiles under theguidance of Filippo Strozzi (1533-37) became the laughing-stock of Italythrough their irresolution. The Venetian ambassadors agree inrepresenting the burghers of Florence as timid from excess ofintellectual mobility. And Dante, whose insight into nationalcharacteristics was of the keenest, has described in ever-memorablelines the temperament of his fickle city (_Purg. _ vi. 135-51). 

Much of this instability was due to the fact that Florentine, likeAthenian, intelligence was overdeveloped. It passed into merecleverness, and overreached itself. Next we may note the tyranny whichboth republics exercised over cities that had once been free. Athenscreated a despotic empire instead of forming an Ionian Confederation. Florence reduced Pisa to the most miserable servitude, rendered herselfodious to Arezzo and Volterra, and never rested from attempts upon theliberties of Lucca and Siena. All these states, which as a Tuscanfederation should have been her strength in the hour of need, took thefirst opportunity of throwing off her yoke and helping her enemies. WhatFlorence spent in recapturing Pisa, after the passage of Charles VIII. In 1494, is incalculable. And no sooner was she in difficulties duringthe siege of 1329, than both Arezzo and Pisa declared for her foes. 

It will not do to push historical parallels too far, interesting as itmay be to note a repetition of the same phenomena at distant periods andunder varying conditions of society. At the same time, to observefundamental points of divergence is no less profitable. Many of thepeculiarities of Greek history are attributable to the fact that a Greekcommonwealth consisted of citizens living in idleness, supported bytheir slaves, and bound to the state by military service and by theperformance of civic duties. The distinctive mark of both Venice andFlorence, on the other hand, was that their citizens were traders. TheVenetians carried on the commerce of the Levant; the Florentines weremanufacturers and bankers: the one town sent her sons forth on the seasto barter and exchange; the other was full of speculators, calculatingrates of interest and discount, and contracting with princes for theconduct of expensive wars. The mercantile character of these Italianrepublics is so essential to their history that it will not be out ofplace to enlarge a little on the topic. We have seen that theFlorentines rendered commerce a condition of burghership. Giannotti, writing the life of one of the chief patriots of the republic, [1] says:'Egli stette a bottega, come fanno la maggior parte de' nostri, cosinobili come ignobili. ' To quote instances in a matter so clear andobvious would be superfluous: else I might show how Bardi and Peruzzi, Strozzi, Medici, Pitti, and Pazzi, while they ranked with princes atthe Courts of France, or Rome, or Naples, were money-lenders, mortgageesand bill-discounters in every great city of Europe. The Palle of theMedici, which emboss the gorgeous ceilings of the Cathedral of Pisa, still swing above the pawnbroker's shop in London. And though greatfamilies like the Rothschilds in the most recent days have successfullyasserted the aristocracy of wealth acquired by usury, it still remains asurprising fact that the daughter of the mediæval bankers should havegiven a monarch to the French in the sixteenth century. 

 [1] _Sulle azioni del Ferruccio_, vol. I. P. 44. The report of Marco Foscari on the state of Florence, already quoted more than once, contains a curious aristocratic comment upon the shop-life of illustrious Florentine citizens. See Appendix ii. Even Piero de' Medici refused a Neapolitan fief on the ground that he was a tradesman. 

A very lively picture of the modes of life and the habits of mindpeculiar to the Italian burgher may be gained by the perusal of AgnoloPandolfini's treatise, _Del Governo della Famiglia_. This essay shouldbe read side by side with Castiglione's _Cortegiano_, by all who wish tounderstand the private life of the Italians in the age of theRenaissance. [1] Pandolfini lived at the time of the war of Florence withFilippo Visconti the exile, and the return of Cosimo de' Medici. He wasemployed by the republic on important missions, and his substance was sogreat that, on occasion of extraordinary aids, his contributions stoodthird or fourth upon the list. In the Councils of the Republic he alwaysadvocated peace, and in particular he spoke against Impresa di Lucca. Asage advanced, he retired from public affairs, and devoted himself tostudy, religious exercises, and country excursions. He possessed abeautiful villa at Signa, notable for the splendor of its maintenance inall points which befit a gentleman. There he had the honor on variousoccasions of entertaining Pope Eugenius, King Réné, Francesco Sforza, and the Marchese Piccinino. His sons lived with him, and spent much oftheir spare time in hawking and the chase. They were three, Carlo, whorose to great dignity in the republic, Giannozzo, still more eminent asa public man, and Pandolfo, who died young. His wife, one of theStrozzi, died while Agnolo was between thirty and forty; but he nevermarried again. He was a great friend of Lionardo Aretino, who publishednothing without his approval. He lived to be upwards of eighty-five, anddied in 1446. These facts sufficiently indicate what sort of man was thesupposed author of the "Essay on the Family, " proving, as they do, thathe passed his leisure among princes and scholars, and that he playedsome part in the public affairs of the State of Florence. Yet his viewof human life is wholly _bourgeois_, though by no means ignoble. In hisconception, the first of all virtues is thrift, which should regulatethe use not only of money, but of all the gifts of nature and offortune. The proper economy of the mind involves liberal studies, courteous manners, honest conduct, and religion. [2] The right use of thebody implies keeping it in good health by continence, exercise anddiet. [3] The thrift of time consists in being never idle. Agnolo's sons, who are represented as talking with their father in this dialogue, askhim, in relation to the gifts of fortune, whether he thinks the honorsof the State desirable. This question introduces a long and vehementinvective against the life of a professional statesman, as of necessityfraudulent, mendacious, egotistic, cruel. [4] The private man of middlestation is really happiest; and only a sense of patriotism should inducehim, not seeking but when sought, to serve the State in public office. The really dear possessions of a man are his family, his wealth, hisgood repute, and his friendships. In order to be successful in theconduct of the family, a man must choose a large and healthy house, where the whole of his offspring--children and grandchildren, may livetogether. He must own an estate which will supply him with corn, wine, oil, wood, fowls, in fact with all the necessaries of life, so that hemay not need to buy much. The main food of the family will be bread andwine. The discussion of the utility of the farm leads Agnolo to praisethe pleasure and profit to be derived from life in the Villa. But at thesame time a town-house has to be maintained; and it is here that thesons of the family should be educated, so that they may learn caution, and avoid vice by knowing its ugliness. In order to meet expenses, sometrade must be followed, silk or wool manufacture being preferred; and inthis the whole family should join, the head distributing work of variouskinds to his children, as he deems most fitting, and always employingthem rather than strangers. Thus we get the three great elements of theFlorentine citizen's life: the _casa_, or town-house, the _villa_, orcountry-farm, and the _bottega_, or place of business. What follows isprincipally concerned with the details of economy. Expenses are of twosorts: necessary, for the repair of the house, the maintenance of thefarm, the stocking of the shop; and unnecessary, for plate, housedecoration, horses, grand clothes, entertainments. On this topic Agnoloinveighs with severity against household parasites, bravi, and dissolutedependents. [5] A little further on he indulges in another diatribeagainst great nobles, _i signori_, from whom he would have his sons keepclear at any cost. [6] It is the animosity of the industrious burgher forthe haughty, pleasure-loving, idle, careless man of blood and highestate. In the bourgeois household described by Pandolfini no one can beindolent. The men have to work outside and collect wealth, the women tostay at home and preserve it. The character of a good housewife issketched very minutely. Pandolfini describes how, when he was firstmarried, he took his wife over the house, and gave up to her care allits contents. Then he went into their bedroom, and made her kneel withhim before Madonna, and prayed God to give them wealth, friends, andmale children. After that he told her that honesty would be her greatcharm in his eyes, as well as her chief virtue, and advised her toforego the use of paints and cosmetics. Much sound advice follows as tothe respective positions of the master and the mistress in thehousehold, the superintendence of domestics, and the right ordering ofthe most insignificant matters. The quality of the dress which willbeseem the children of an honored citizen on various occasions, thepocket money of the boys, the food of the common table, are alldiscussed with some minuteness: and the wife is made to feel that shemust learn to be neither jealous nor curious about concerns which herhusband finds it expedient to keep private. 

 [1] I ought to state that Pandolfini is at least a century earlier in date than Casliglione, and that he represents a more primitive condition of society. The facts I have mentioned about his life are given on the authority of Vespasiano da Bisticci. The references are made to the Milanese edition of 1802. It must also be added that there are strong reasons for assigning the treatise in question to Leo Battista Alberti. As it professes, however, to give a picture of Pandolfini's family, I have adhered to the old title. But the whole question of the authorship of the Famiglia will be fully discussed in the last section of my book, which deals with Italian literature. Personally. I accept the theory of Alberti's authorship. 

 [2] A beautiful description of the religious temper, p. 74. 

 [3] What Pandolfini says about the beauty of the body is worthy of a Greek: what he says about exercise might have been written by an Englishman, p. 77. 

 [4] Pp. 82-89 are very important as showing how low the art of politics had sunk in Italy. 

 [5] P. 125. 

 [6] P. 175. 

The charm of a treatise like that of Pandolfini on the family evaporatesas soon as we try to make a summary of its contents. Enough, however, has been quoted to show the thoroughly _bourgeois_ tone which prevailedamong the citizens of Florence in the fifteenth century. [1] Veryimportant results were the natural issue of this commercial spirit inthe State. Talking of the Ordinanze di Giustizia, Varchi observes:'While they removed in part the civil discords of Florence, they almostentirely extinguished all nobility of feeling in the Florentines, andtended as much to diminish the power and haughtiness of the city as toabate the insolence of the patriciate. '[2] A little further on he says:'Hence may all prudent men see how ill-ordered in all things, save onlyin the Grand Council, has been the commonwealth of Florence; seeingthat, to speak of nought else, that kind of men who in a wiselyconstituted republic ought not to fulfill any magistracy whatever, themerchants and artisans of all sorts, are in Florence alone capable oftaking office, to the exclusion of all others. ' Machiavelli, less wordybut far more emphatic than Varchi, says of the same revolution: 'Thiscaused the abandonment by Florence not only of arms, but of all nobilityof soul. '[3] The most notable consequence of the mercantile temper ofthe republics was the ruinous system of mercenary warfare, with all itsattendant evils of ambitious captains of adventure, irresponsiblesoldiery, and mock campaigns, adopted by the free Italian States. It istrue that even if the Italians had maintained their national militias infull force, they might not have been able to resist the shock of Franceand Spain any better than the armies of Thebes, Sparta, and Athensaverted the Macedonian hegemony. But they would at least have run abetter chance, and not perhaps have perished so ignobly through thetreason of an Alfonso d'Este (1527), of a Marquis of Pescara (1525), ofa Duke of Urbino (1527), and of a Malatesta Baglioni (1530). [4]Machiavelli, in a weighty passage at the end of the first book of hisFlorentine History, sums up the various causes which contributed to thedisuse of national arms among the Italians of the Renaissance. The fearof the despot for his subjects, the priest-rule of the Church, thejealousy of Venice for her own nobles, and the commercial sluggishnessof the Florentine burghers, caused each and all of these powers, otherwise so different, to intrust their armies to paid captains. 'Diquesti adunque oziosi principi e di queste vilissime armi sarà piena lamia istoria, ' is the contemptuous phrase with which he winds up hisanalysis. [5]

 [1] Varchi (book x. Cap. 69) quotes a Florentine proverb: 'Chiunque non sta a bottega è ladro. ' See above, p. 239. 

 [2] Varchi, vol. I. P. 168; compare vol. Ii. P. 87, however. 

 [3] _Ist. Fior. _ lib. Ii. End. Aristotle's contempt for the [Greek: _technitai_] emerges in these comments of the doctrinaires. 

 [4] To multiply the instances of fraud and treason on the part of Italian condottieri would be easy. I have only mentioned the notable examples which fall within a critical period of five years. The Marquis of Pescara betrayed to Charles V. The league for the liberation of Italy, which he had joined at Milan. The Duke of Ferrara received and victualed Bourbon's (then Frundsberg's) army on its way to sack Rome, because he spited the Pope, and wanted to seize Modena for himself. The Duke of Urbino, wishing to punish Clement VII. For personal injuries, omitted to relieve Rome when it was being plundered by the Lutherans, though he held the commission of the Italian League. Malatesta Baglioni sold Florence, which he had undertaken to defend, to the Imperial army under the Prince of Orange. 

 [5] 'With the records of these indolent princes and most abject armaments, my history will, therefore, be filled. ' Compare the following passage in a letter from Machiavelli to Francesco Guicciardini (_Op. _ vol. X. P. 255): 'Comincio ora a scrivere di nuovo, e mi sfogo accusando i principi, che hanno fatto ogni cosa per condurci qui. '

CHAPTER V. 

THE FLORENTINE HISTORIANS. 

Florence, the City of Intelligence--Cupidity, Curiosity, and the Love ofBeauty--Florentine Historical Literature--Philosophical Study ofHistory--Ricordano Malespini--Florentine History compared with theChronicles of other Italian Towns--The Villani--The Date1300--Statistics--Dante's Political Essays and Pamphlets--DinoCompagni--Latin Histories of Florence in Fifteenth Century--LionardoBruni and Poggio Bracciolini--The Historians of the First Half of theSixteenth Century--Men of Action and Men of Letters: theDoctrinaires--Florence between 1494 and 1537--Varchi, Segni, Nardi, Pitti, Nerli, Guicciardini--The Political Importance of theseWriters--The Last Years of Florentine Independence, and the Siege of1529--State of Parties--Filippo Strozzi--Different Views of FlorentineWeakness taken by the Historians--Their Literary Qualities--FrancescoGuicciardini and Niccolo Machiavelli--Scientific Statists--Discordbetween Life and Literature--The Biography of Guicciardini--His 'Istoriad'Italia, ' 'Dialogo del Reggimento di Firenze, ' 'Storia Fiorentina, ''Ricordi'--Biography of Machiavelli--His Scheme of a NationalMilitia--Dedication of 'The Prince'--Political Ethics of the ItalianRenaissance--The Discorsi--The Seven Books on the Art of War and the'History of Florence. '

Florence was essentially the city of intelligence in modern times. Othernations have surpassed the Italians in their genius--the quality whichgave a superhuman power of insight to Shakespeare and an universalsympathy to Goethe. But nowhere else except at Athens has the wholepopulation of a city been so permeated with ideas, so highlyintellectual by nature, so keen in perception, so witty and so subtle, as at Florence. The fine and delicate spirit of the Italians existed inquintessence among the Florentines. And of this superiority not onlythey but the inhabitants also of Rome and Lombardy and Naples, wereconscious. Boniface VIII. , when he received the ambassadors of theChristian powers in Rome on the occasion of the Jubilee in 1300, observed that all of them were citizens of Florence. The witticism whichhe is said to have uttered, _i Fiorentini essere il quinto elemento_, 'that the men of Florence form a fifth element, ' passed into a proverb. The primacy of the Florentines in literature, the fine arts, law, scholarship, philosophy, and science was acknowledged throughout Italy. 

When the struggle for existence has been successfully terminated, andthe mere instinct of self-preservation no longer absorbs the activitiesof a people, then the three chief motive forces of civilization begin tooperate. These are cupidity, or the desire of wealth and all that itprocures; curiosity, or the desire to discover new facts about the worldand man; and the love of beauty, which is the parent of all art. Commerce, philosophy, science, scholarship, sculpture, architecture, painting, music, poetry, are the products of these rulingimpulses--everything in fact which gives a higher value to the life ofman. Different nations have been swayed by these passions in differentdegrees. The artistic faculty, which owes its energy to the love ofbeauty, has been denied to some; the philosophic faculty, which startswith curiosity, to others; and some again have shown but little capacityfor amassing wealth by industry or calculation. It is rare to find awhole nation possessed of all in an equal measure of perfection. Such, however, were the Florentines. [1] The mere sight of the city and hermonuments would suffice to prove this. But we are not reduced to thenecessity of divining what Florence was by the inspection of herchurches, palaces, and pictures. That marvelous intelligence which washer pride, burned brightly in a long series of historians and annalists, who have handed down to us the biography of the city in volumes asremarkable for penetrative acumen as for definite delineation anddramatic interest. We possess picture-galleries of pages in which thegreat men of Florence live again and seem to breathe and move, epics ofthe commonwealth's vicissitudes from her earliest commencement, detailedtragedies and highly finished episodes, studies of separate characters, and idylls detached from the main current of her story. The whole massof this historical literature is instinct with the spirit of criticismand vital with experience. The writers have been either actors orspectators of the drama. Trained in the study of antiquity, as well asin the council-chambers of the republic and in the courts of foreignprinces, they survey the matter of their histories from a lofty vantageground, fortifying their speculative conclusions by practical knowledgeand purifying their judgment of contemporary events with the philosophyof the past. Owing to this rare mixture of qualities, the Florentinesdeserve to be styled the discoverers of the historic method for themodern world. They first perceived that it is unprofitable to study thehistory of a state in isolation, that not wars and treaties only, butthe internal vicissitudes of the commonwealth, form the real subjectmatter of inquiry, [2] and that the smallest details, biographical, economical, or topographical, may have the greatest value. While therest of Europe was ignorant of statistics, and little apt to piercebelow the surface of events to the secret springs of conduct, inFlorence a body of scientific historians had gradually been formed, whorecognized the necessity of basing their investigations upon a diligentstudy of public records, state-papers, and notes of contemporaryobservers. [3] The same men prepared themselves for the task of criticismby a profound study of ethical and political philosophy in the works ofAristotle, Plato, Cicero, and Tacitus. [4] They examined the methods ofclassical historians, and compared the annals of Greece, Rome, andPalestine with the chronicles of their own country. They attempted todivine the genius and to characterize the special qualities of thenations, cities, and individuals of whom they had to treat. [5] At thesame time they spared no pains in seeking out persons possessed ofaccurate knowledge in every branch of inquiry that came beneath theirnotice, so that their treatises have the freshness of original documentsand the charm of personal memoirs. Much, as I have elsewhere noted, wasdue to the peculiarly restless temper of the Florentines, speculative, variable, unquiet in their politics. The very qualities which exposedthe commonwealth to revolutions, developed the intelligence of herhistorians; her want of stability was the price she paid forintellectual versatility and acuteness unrivaled in modern times. '"_Oingenia magis acria quam matura_, " said Petrarch, and with truth, aboutthe wits of the Florentines; for it is their property by nature to havemore of liveliness and acumen than of maturity or gravity. '[6]

 [1] Since the Greeks, no people have combined curiosity and the love of beauty, the scientific and the artistic sense, in the same proportions as the Florentines. 

 [2] See Machiavelli's critique of Lionardo d'Arezzo and Messer Poggio, in the Proemio to his _Florentine History_. His own conception of history, as the attempt to delineate the very spirit of a nation, is highly philosophical. 

 [3] The high sense of the requirements of scientific history attained by the Italians is shown by what Giovio relates of Gian Galeazzo's archives (_Vita di Gio. Galeazzo_, p. 107). After describing these, he adds: 'talche, chi volesse scrivere un' historia giusta non potrebbe desiderare altronde nè più abbondante nè più certa materia; perciocchè da questi libri facilissimamente si traggono le cagioni delle guerre, i consigli, e i successi dell' imprese. ' The Proemio to Varchi's _Storie Fiorentine_ (vol. I. Pp. 42-44), which gives an account of his preparatory labors, is an unconscious treatise on the model historian. Accuracy, patience, love of truth, sincerity in criticism, and laborious research, have all their proper place assigned to them. Compare Guicciardini, _Ricordi_, No. Cxliii. , for sound remarks upon the historian's duty of collecting the statistics of his own age and country. 

 [4] The prefaces to Giannotti's critiques of Florence and of Venice show how thoroughly his mind had been imbued with the _Politics_ of Aristotle. Varchi acknowledges the direct influence of Polybius and Tacitus. Livy is Machiavelli's favorite. 

 [5] On this point the Relazioni of Italian ambassadors are invaluable. What dryly philosophical compendia are the notes of Machiavelli upon the French Court and Cesare Borgia! How astute are the Venetian letters on the opinions and qualities of the Roman Prelates!

 [6] Guicc. _Ricordi_, cciii. _Op. Ined. _ vol. I. P. 229. 

The year 1300 marks the first development of historical research inFlorence. Two great writers, Dante Alighieri and Giovanni Villani, atthis epoch pursued different lines of study, which determined the futureof this branch of literature for the Italians. It is notuncharacteristic of Florentine genius that while the chief city ofTuscany was deficient in historians of her achievements before the datewhich I have mentioned, her first essays in historiography should havebeen monumental and standard-making for the rest of Italy. Just as thegreat burghs of Lombardy attained municipal independence somewhatearlier than those of Tuscany, so the historic sense developed itself inthe valley of the Po at a period when the valley of the Arno had nochronicler. Sire Raul and Ottone Morena, the annalists of Milan, FraSalimbene, the sagacious and comprehensive historian of Parma, Rolandino, to whom we owe the chronicle of Ezzelino and the tragedy ofthe Trevisan Marches, have no rivals south of the Apennines in thethirteenth century. Even the Chronicle of the Malespini family, writtenin the vulgar tongue from the beginning of the world to the year 1281, which occupies 146 volumes of Muratori's Collection, and which used tobe the pride of Tuscan antiquarians, has recently been shown to be inall probability a compilation based upon the Annals of Villani. [1] Thismakes the clear emergence of a scientific sense for history in the year1300 at Florence all the more remarkable. In order to estimate the highquality of the work achieved by the Villani it is only necessary to turnthe pages of some early chronicles of sister cities which still breathethe spirit of unintelligent mediæval industry, before the method ofhistory had been critically apprehended. The naïveté of these recordsmay be appreciated by the following extracts. A Roman writes[2]: 'ILodovico Bonconte Monaldeschi was born in Orvieto, and was brought up inthe city of Rome, where I have resided. I was born in the year 1327, inthe month of June, at the time when the Emperor Lodovico came. Now Iwish to relate the whole history of my age, seeing that I lived onehundred and fifteen years without illness, except that when I was born Ifainted, and I died of old age, and remained in bed twelve months onend. ' Burigozzo's Chronicle of Milan, again, concludes with thesewords:[3] 'As you will see in the Annals of my son, inasmuch as thedeath which has overtaken me prevents my writing more. ' Chroniclesconceived and written in this spirit are diaries of events, repertoriesof strange stories, and old wives' tales, without a deep sense ofpersonal responsibility, devoid alike of criticism and artistic unity. Very different is the character of the historical literature whichstarts into being in Florence at the opening of the fourteenth century. 

 [1] See Paul Scheffer-Boichorst, _Florentiner Studien_, Leipzig, 1874, Carl Hegel, in his defense of Compagni, _Die Chronik des Dino Compagni, Versuch einer Rettung_, Leipzig, 1875, admits the proof of spuriousness. See the preface, p. V. The point, however, is still disputed by Florentine scholars of high authority. Gino Capponi, in his _Storia della Repubblica di Firenze_ (vol. I. Appendix, final note), observes that while the Villani are popular in tone the Malespini Chronicle is feudal. Adolfo Bartoli (_Storia della Lett. It. _ vol. Iii. P. 155) treats the question as still open. The custom of preserving brief _fasti_ in the archives of great houses rendered such compilations as the Malespini Chronicle is now supposed to have been both easy and attractive. The Christian name _Ricordano_ given to the first Malespini annalist does not exist. It has been suggested that it is due to a misreading of an initial sentence, _Ricordano i Malespini_. 

 [2] Muratori, vol. Xii. P. 529. 

 [3] _Arch. Stor. _ vol. Iii. P. 552. Both Monaldeschi and Burigozzo appear to mention their own death. The probability is that their annals, as we have them, have been freely dealt with by transcribers or continuators adopting the historic 'I' after the decease of the titular authors. 

Giovanni Villani relates how, having visited Rome on the occasion of theJubilee, when 200, 000 pilgrims crowded the streets of the Eternal City, he was moved in the depth of his soul by the spectacle of the ruins ofthe discrowned mistress of the world. [1] 'When I saw the great andancient monuments of Rome, and read the histories and the great deeds ofthe Romans, written by Virgil, and by Sallust, and by Lucan, and byLivy, and by Valerius, and Orosius, and other masters of history, whorelated small as well as great things of the acts and doings of theRomans, I took style and manner from them, though, as a learner, I wasnot worthy of so vast a work. ' Like our own Gibbon, musing upon thesteps of Ara Celi, within sight of the Capitol, and within hearing ofthe monks at prayer, he felt the _genius loci_ stir him with a mixtureof astonishment and pathos. Then 'reflecting that our city of Florence, the daughter and the creature of Rome, was in the ascendant toward greatachievements, while Rome was on the wane, I thought it seemly to relatein this new Chronicle all the doings and the origins of the town ofFlorence, as far as I could collect and discover them, and to continuethe acts of the Florentines and the other notable things of the world inbrief onwards so long as it shall be God's pleasure, hoping in whom byHis grace I have done the work rather than by my poor knowledge; andtherefore in the year 1300, when I returned from Rome, I began tocompile this book, to the reverence of God and Saint John and the praiseof this our city Florence. ' The key-note is struck in these passages. Admiration for the past mingles with prescience of the future. Theartist and the patriot awake together in Villani at the sight of Romeand the thought of Florence. 

 [1] Lib. Viii. Cap. 36. 

The result of this visit to Rome in 1300 was the Chronicle whichGiovanni Villani carried in twelve books down to the year 1346. In 1348he died of the plague, and his work was continued on the same plan byhis brother Matteo. Matteo in his turn died of plague in 1362, and leftthe Chronicle to his son Filippo, who brought it down to the year 1365. Of the three Villani, Giovanni is the greatest, both as a master ofstyle and as an historical artist. Matteo is valuable for the generalreflections which form exordia to the eleven books that bear his name. Filippo was more of a rhetorician. He is known as the public lecturerupon the Divine Comedy, and as the author of some interesting but meagerlives of eminent Florentines, his predecessors or contemporaries. 

The Chronicle of the Villani is a treasure-house of clear and accuratedelineations rather than of profound analysis. Not only does it embracethe whole affairs of Europe in annals which leave little to be desiredin precision of detail and brevity of statement; but, what is more toour present purpose, it conveys a lively picture of the internalcondition of the Florentines and the statistics of the city in thefourteenth century. We learn, for example, that the ordinary revenues ofFlorence amounted to about 300, 000 golden florins, [1] levied chiefly byway of taxes--90, 200 proceeding from the octroi, 58, 300 from the retailwine trade, 14, 450 from the salt duties, and so on through the variousimposts, each of which is carefully calculated. Then we are informedconcerning the ordinary expenditure of the Commune--15, 240 lire for thepodestà and his establishment, 5, 880 lire for the Captain of the peopleand his train, 3, 600 for the maintenance of the Signory in the Palazzo, and so on down to a sum of 2, 400 for the food of the lions, for candles, torches, and bonfires. The amount spent publicly in almsgiving; thesalaries of ambassadors and governors; the cost of maintaining thestate armory; the pay of the night-watch; the money spent upon theyearly games when the palio was run; the wages of the city trumpeters;and so forth, are all accurately reckoned. In fact the ordinary Budgetof the Commune is set forth. The rate of extraordinary expenses duringwar-time is estimated on the scale of sums voted by the Florentines tocarry on the war with Martino della Scala in 1338. At that time theycontributed 25, 000 florins monthly to Venice, maintained full garrisonsin the fortresses of the republic, and paid as well for upwards of 1, 000men at arms. In order that a correct notion of these balance-sheets maybe obtained, Villani is careful to give particulars about the value ofthe florin and the lira, and the number of florins coined yearly. Indescribing the condition of Florence at this period, he computes thenumber of citizens capable of bearing arms, between the ages fifteen andseventy, at 25, 000; the population of the city at 90, 000, not countingthe monastic communities, nor including the strangers, who are estimatedat about 15, 000. The country districts belonging to Florence add 80, 000to this calculation. It is further noticed that the excess of malebirths over female was between 300 and 500 yearly in Florence, that from8, 000 to 10, 000 boys and girls learned to read; that there were sixschools, in which from 10, 000 to 12, 000 children learned arithmetic; andfour high schools, in which from 550 to 600 learned grammar and logic. Then follows a list of the religious houses and churches: among thecharitable institutions are reckoned 30 hospitals capable of receivingmore than 1, 000 sick people. Here too it may be mentioned that Villanireckons the beggars of Florence at 17, 000, with the addition of 4, 000paupers and sick persons and religious mendicants. [2] These mendicantswere not all Florentines, but received relief from the city charities. The big wool factories are numbered at upwards of two hundred; and it iscalculated that from sixty to eighty thousand pieces of cloth wereturned out yearly, to the value in all of about 1, 200, 000 florins. Morethan 30, 000 persons lived by this industry. The _calimala_ factories, where foreign cloths were manufactured into fine materials, numberedabout twenty. These imported some 10, 000 pieces of cloth yearly, to thevalue of 300, 000 florins. The exchange offices are estimated at abouteighty in number. The fortunes made in Florence by trade and by bankingwere colossal for those days. Villani tells us that the great houses ofthe Bardi and Peruzzi lent to our King Edward III. More than 1, 365, 000golden florins. [3] 'And mark this, ' he continues, 'that these moneyswere chiefly the property of persons who had given it to them ondeposit. ' This debt was to have been recovered out of the wool revenuesand other income of the English; in fact, the Bardi and Peruzzi hadnegotiated a national loan, by which they hoped to gain a superbpercentage on their capital. The speculation, however, provedunfortunate; and the two houses would have failed, but for theirenormous possessions in Tuscany. We hear, for example, of the Bardibuying the villages of Vernia and Mangona in 1337. [4] As it was, theircredit received a shock from which it never thoroughly recovered; and alittle later on, in 1342, after the ruinous wars with the La Scalafamily and Pisa, and after the loss of Lucca, they finally stoppedpayment and declared themselves bankrupt. [5] The shock communicated bythis failure to the whole commerce of Christendom is well described byVillani. [6] The enormous wealth amassed by Florentine citizens incommerce may be still better imagined when we remember that the Medici, between the years 1434 and 1471, spent some 663, 755 golden florins uponalms and public works, of which 400, 000 were supplied by Cosimo alone. But to return to Villani; not content with the statistics which I havealready extracted, he proceeds to calculate how many bushels of wheat, hogsheads of wine, and head of cattle were consumed in Florence by theyear and the week. [7] We are even told that in the month of July 1280, 40, 000 loads of melons entered the gate of San Friano and were sold inthe city. Nor are the manners and the costume of the Florentinesneglected: the severe and decent dress of the citizens in the good oldtimes (about 1260) is contrasted with the new-fangled fashionsintroduced by the French in 1342. [8] In addition to all thismiscellaneous information may be mentioned what we learn from MatteoVillani concerning the foundation of the Monte or Public Funds ofFlorence in the year 1345, [9] as well as the remarkable essay upon theeconomical and other consequences of the plague of 1348, which forms theprelude to his continuation of his brother's Chronicle. [10]

 [1] xi. 62. 

 [2] x. 162. 

 [3] xi. 88. 

 [4] xi. 74. On this occasion a law was passed forbidding citizens to become lords of districts within the territory of Florence. 

 [5] xi. 38. 

 [6] xi. 88. 

 [7] xi, 94. 

 [8] vi. 69; xii. 4. 

 [9] iii. 106. 

 [10] i. 1-8. 

In his survey of the results of the Black Death, Matteo notices not onlythe diminution of the population, but the alteration in public morality, the displacement of property, the increase in prices, the diminution oflabor, and the multiplication of lawsuits, which were the consequencesdirect or indirect of the frightful mortality. Among the details whichhe has supplied upon these topics deserve to be commemorated theenormous bequests to public charities in Florence--350, 000 florins tothe Society of Orsammichele, 25, 000 to the Compagnia della Misericordia, and 25, 000 to the Hospital of Santa Maria Nuova. The poorer populationhad been almost utterly destroyed by the plague; so that these fundswere for the most part wasted, misapplied, and preyed upon bymal-administrators. [1] The foundation of the University of Florence isalso mentioned as one of the extraordinary consequences of thiscalamity. 

 [1] Matteo Villani expressly excepts the Hospital of S. Maria Nuova, which seems to have been well managed. 

The whole work of the Villani remains a monument, unique in mediævalliterature, of statistical patience and economical sagacity, proving howfar in advance of the other European nations were the Italians at thisperiod. [1] Dante's aim is wholly different. Of statistics and ofhistorical detail we gain but little from his prose works. His mind wasthat of a philosopher who generalizes, and of a poet who seizes salientcharacteristics, not that of an annalist who aims at scrupulous fidelityin his account of facts. I need not do more than mention here theconcise and vivid portraits, which he has sketched in the Divine Comedy, of all the chief cities of Italy; but in his treatise 'De Monarchiâ' wepossess the first attempt at political speculation, the first essay inconstitutional philosophy, to which the literature of modern Europe gavebirth; while his letters addressed to the princes of Italy, thecardinals, the emperor and the republic of Florence, are in like mannerthe first instances of political pamphlets setting forth a rationalizedand consistent system of the rights and duties of nations. In the 'DeMonarchiâ' Dante bases a theory of universal government upon a definiteconception of the nature and the destinies of humanity. Amid the anarchyand discord of Italy, where selfishness was everywhere predominant, andwhere the factions of the Papacy and Empire were but cloaks for partystrife, Dante endeavors to bring his countrymen back to a sublime idealof a single monarchy, a true _imperium_, distinct from the priestlyauthority of the Church, but not hostile to it, --nay, rather seekingsanction from Christ's Vicar upon earth and affording protection to theHoly See, as deriving its own right from the same Divine source. Political science in this essay takes rank as an independent branch ofphilosophy, and the points which Dante seeks to establish are supportedby arguments implying much historical knowledge, though quaintlyscholastic in their application. The Epistles contain the same thoughts:peace, mutual respect, and obedience to a common head, the duty of thechief to his subordinates and of the governed to their lord, are urgedwith no less force, but in a more familiar style and with directallusion to the events which called each letter forth. They are in factpolitical brochures addressed by a thinker from his solitude to thechief actors in the drama of history around him. Nor would it here beright to omit some notice of the essay 'De Vulgari Eloquio, ' which, considering the date of its appearance, is no less original andindicative of a new spirit in the world than the treatise 'DeMonarchiâ. ' It is an attempt to write the history of Italian as a memberof the Romance Languages, to discuss the qualities of its severaldialects, and to prove the advantages to be gained by the formation of acommon literary tongue for Italy. Though Dante was of course devoid ofwhat we now call comparative philology, and had but little knowledge ofthe first beginnings of the languages which he discusses, yet it is notmore than the truth to say that this essay applies the true method ofcritical analysis for the first time to the subject, and is the firstattempt to reason scientifically upon the origin and nature of a modernlanguage. 

 [1] We must remember that our own annalists, Holinshed and Stow, were later by two centuries than the Villani. 

While discussing the historical work of Dante and the Villani, it isimpossible that another famous Florentine should not occur to ourrecollection, whose name has long been connected with the civic conteststhat resulted in the exile of Italy's greatest poet from his nativecity. Yet it is not easy for a foreign critic to deal with the questionof Dino Compagni's Chronicle--a question which for years has dividedItalian students into two camps, which has produced a voluminousliterature of its own, and which still remains undecided. The point atissue is by no means insignificant. While one party contends that wehave in this Chronicle the veracious record of an eye-witness, the otherasserts that it is the impudent fabrication of a later century, composedon hints furnished by Dante, and obscure documents of the Compagnifamily, and expressed in language that has little of the fourteenthcentury. The one regards it as a faithful narrative, deficient only inminor details of accuracy. The other stigmatizes it as a whollyuntrustworthy forgery, and calls attention to numberless mistakes, confusions, misconceptions, and misrepresentations of events, whichplace its genuineness beyond the pale of possibility. After a carefulconsideration of Scheffer's, Fanfani's, Gino Capponi's, and Isidoro delLungo's arguments, it seems to me clearly established that the Chronicleof Dino Compagni can no longer be regarded as a perfectly genuinedocument of fourteenth-century literature. In the form in which we nowpossess it, we are rather obliged to regard it as a _rifacimento_ ofsome authentic history, compiled during the course of the fifteenthcentury in a prose which bears traces of the post-Boccaccian style ofcomposition. [1] Yet the authority of Dino Compagni has long been such, and such is still the literary value of the monograph which bears hisname, that it would be impertinent to dismiss the 'Chronicle'unceremoniously as a mere fiction. I propose, therefore, first to givean account of the book on its professed merits, and then to discuss, asbriefly as I can, the question of its authenticity. 

 [1] The first critic to call Compagni's authenticity in question was Pietro Fanfani, in an article of _Il Pievano Arlotto_, 1858. The cause was taken up, shortly after this date, by an abler German authority, P. Scheffer-Boichorst. The works which I have studied on this subject are, 1. _Florentiner Studien_, von P. Scheffer-Boichorst, Leipzig, Hirzel, 1874. 2. _Dino Compagni vendicato dalla Calunnia di Scrittore della Cronica_, di Pietro Fanfani, Milano, Carrara, 1875. 3. _Die Chronik des Dino Compagni, Versuch einer Rettung_, von Dr. Carl Hegel, Leipzig, Hirzel, 1875. 4. _Die Chronik des Dino Compagni, Kritik der Hegelschen Schrift_, von P. Scheffer-Boichorst, Leipzig, Hirzel, 1875. 5. The note appended to Gino Capponi's _Storia della Repubblica di Firenze_. 6. _Dino Compagni e la sua Chronica_, per Isidoro del Lungo, Firenze, Le Mornier. Unluckily, the last-named work, though it consists already of two bulky volumes in large 8vo, is not yet complete; and the part which will treat of the question of authorship and MS. Authority has not appeared. 

The year 1300, which Dante chose for the date of his descent with Virgilto the nether world, and which marked the beginning of Villani's'Chronicle, ' is also mentioned by Dino Compagni in the first sentence ofthe preface to his work. 'The recollections of ancient histories, ' hesays, 'have a long while stirred my mind to writing the perilous andill-fated events, which the noble city, daughter of Rome, has sufferedmany years, and especially at the time of the jubilee in the year 1300. 'Dino Compagni, whose 'Chronicle' embraces the period between 1280 and1312, took the popular side in the struggles of 1282, sat as Prior in1289, and in 1301, and was chosen Gonfalonier of Justice in 1293. He wastherefore a prominent actor in the drama of those troublous times. Hedied in 1324, two years and four months after the date of Dante's death, and was buried in the church of Santa Trinità. He was a man of the samestamp as Dante;[1] burning with love for his country, but still more alover of the truth; severe in judgment, but beyond suspicion of merepartisanship; brief in utterance, but weighty with personal experience, profound conviction, prophetic intensity of feeling, sincerity, andjustice. As a historian, he narrowed his labors to the field of onesmall but highly finished picture. He undertook to narrate the civicquarrels of his times, and to show how the commonwealth of Florence wasbrought to ruin by the selfishness of her own citizens; nor can his'Chronicle, ' although it is by no means a masterpiece of historicalaccuracy or of lucid arrangement, be surpassed for the liveliness of itsdelineation, the graphic clearness of its characters, the earnestness ofits patriotic spirit, and the acute analysis which lays bare thepolitical situation of a republic torn by factions, during the memorableperiod which embraced the revolution of Giano della Bella and thestruggles of the Neri and Bianchi. The comparison of Dino Compagni withany contemporary annalist in Italy shows that here again, in thesepages, a new spirit has arisen. Muratori, proud to print them for thefirst time in 1726, put them on a level with the 'Commentaries ofCæsar'; Giordani welcomed their author as a second Sallust. Thepolitical sagacity and scientific penetration, possessed in so high adegree by the Florentines, appear in full maturity. Compagni's'Chronicle' heads a long list of similar monographs, unique in theliterature of a single city. [2]

 [1] The apostrophes to the citizens of Florence at large, and the imprecations on some of the worst offenders among the party-leaders (especially in book ii. On the occasion of the calamities of 1301) are conceived and uttered in the style of Dante. 

 [2] Among these I may here mention Gino Capponi's history of the Ciompi Rebellion, Giovanni Cavalcanti's memoirs of the period between 1420 and 1452, Leo Battista Alberti's narrative of Porcari's attempt upon the life of Nicholas V. , Vespasiano's 'Biographies, ' and Poliziano's 'Essay on the Pazzi Conspiracy. ' Gino Capponi, born about 1350, was Prior in 1396, and Gonfalonier of Justice in 1401 and 1418; he died in 1421. Giovanni Cavalcanti was a zealous admirer of Cosimo de' Medici; he composed his 'Chronicle' in the prison of the Stinche, where he was unjustly incarcerated for a debt to the Commune of Florence. Vespasiano da Bisticci contributed a series of most valuable portraits to the literature of Italy: all the great men of his time are there delineated with a simplicity that is the sign of absolute sincerity, Poliziano was present at the murder of Giuliano de' Medici in the Florentine Duomo. The historians of the sixteenth century will be noticed together further on. 

The arguments against the authenticity of Dino Compagni's 'Chronicle'may be arranged in three groups. The _first_ concerns the man himself. It is urged that, with the exception of his offices as Prior andGonfalonier, we have no evidence of his political activity, beyond whatis furnished by the disputed 'Chronicle. ' According to his own account, Dino played a part of the first importance in the complicated events of1280-1312. Yet he is not mentioned by Giovanni Villani, by FilippoVallani, or by Dante. There is no record of his death, except a MS. Notein the Magliabecchian Codex of his 'Chronicle' of the date 1514. [1] Heis known in literature as the author of a few lyrics and an oration toPope John XXII. , the style of which is so rough and mediæval as to makeit incredible that the same writer should have composed the masterlyparagraphs of the 'Chronicle. '[2] The _second_ group of argumentsaffects the substance of the 'Chronicle' itself. Though Dino was Priorwhen Charles of Valois entered Florence, he records that event under thedate of Sunday the fourth of November, whereas Charles arrived on thefirst of November, and the first Sunday of the month was the fifth. Hediffers from the concurrent testimony of other historians in making theaffianced bride of Buondelmonte dei Buondelmonti a Giantruffetti insteadof an Amidei, and the Bishop of Arezzo a Pazzi instead of an Ubertini. He reckons the Arti at twenty-four, whereas they numbered twenty-one. Heplaces the Coronation of Henry VII. In August, instead of in June, 1312. He seems to refer to the Palace of the Signory, which could not havebeen built at the date in question. He asserts that a member of theBenivieni family was killed by one of the Galligai, whereas the murdererwas of the blood of the Galli. He represents himself as having been thefirst Gonfalonier of Justice who destroyed the houses of rebelliousnobles, while Baldo de' Ruffoli, who held the office before him, hadpreviously carried out the Ordinances. Speaking of Guido Cavalcantiabout the year 1300, he calls him 'uno giovane gentile'; and yet Guidohad married the daughter of Farinata degli Uberti in 1266, and certainlydid not survive 1300 more than a few months. The peace with Pisa, whichwas concluded during Compagni's tenure of the Gonfalonierate, is notmentioned, though this must have been one of the most important publicevents with which he was concerned. Chronology is hopelessly andinextricably confused; while inaccuracies and difficulties of the kinddescribed abound on every page of the 'Chronicle, ' rendering the laborof its last commentator and defender one of no small difficulty. The_third_ group of arguments assails the language of the 'Chronicle' andits MS. Authority. Fanfani, who showed more zeal than courtesy in hisdestructive criticism, undertook to prove that Dino's style in generalis not distinguished for the 'purity, simplicity, and propriety' of thetrecento[3]; that it abounds in expressions of a later period, such as_armata_ for _oste_, _marciare_ for _andare_, _acciò_ for _acciocchè_, _onde_ for _affinchè_; that numerous imitations of Dante can be tracedin it; and that to an acute student of early Italian prose its palpable_quattrocentismo_ is only slightly veiled by a persistent affectation offourteenth-century archaism. This argument from style seems thestrongest that can be brought against the genuineness of the'Chronicle'; for while it is possible that Dino may have madeinnumerable blunders about the events in which he took a part, it isincredible that he should have anticipated the growth of Italian by atleast a century. Yet judges no less competent than Fanfani in thismatter of style, and far more trustworthy as witnesses, VincenzoNannucci, Gino Capponi, Isidoro del Lungo, are of opinion that Dino's'Chronicle' is a masterpiece of Italian fourteenth-century prose; andtill Italian experts are agreed, foreign critics must suspend theirjudgment. The analysis of style receives a different development fromScheffer-Boichorst. In his last essay he undertakes to show that manypassages of the 'Chronicle, ' especially the important one which refersto the _Ordinamenti della Giustizia_, have been borrowed fromVillani. [4] This critical weapon is difficult to handle, for it almostalways cuts both ways. Yet the German historian has made out anundoubtedly good case by proving Villani's language closer to theoriginal _Ordinamenti_ than Compagni's. With regard to MS. Authority, the codices of Dino's 'Chronicle' extant in Italy are all of themderived from a MS. Transcribed by Noferi Busini and given by him toGiovanni Mazzuoli, surnamed Lo Stradino, who was a member of theFlorentine Academy and a greedy collector of antiquities. This MS. Bearsthe date 1514. The recent origin of this parent codex, and thequestionable character of Lo Stradino, gave rise to not unreasonablesuspicions. Fanfani roundly asserted that the 'Chronicle' must have beenfabricated as a hoax upon the uncritical antiquary, since it suddenlyappeared without a pedigree, at a moment when such forgeries were notuncommon. Scheffer-Boichorst, in his most recent pamphlet, committedhimself to the opinion that either Lo Stradino himself, nicknamed_Cronaca Scorretta_ by his Florentine cronies, or one of hiscontemporaries, was the forger. [5] An Italian impugner of the'Chronicle, ' Giusto Grion of Verona, declared for Antonfrancesco Doni asthe fabricator. [6] These hypotheses, however, are, to say the least, unlucky for their suggestors, and really serve to weaken rather than tostrengthen the destructive line of argument. There exists an elder codexof which Fanfani and his followers were ignorant. It is a MS. Of perhapsthe middle of the fifteenth century, which was purchased for theAshburnham Library in 1846. This MS. Has been minutely described byProfessor Paul Meyer; and Isidoro del Lungo publishes a fac-similespecimen of one of its pages. [7] By some unaccountable negligence thislatest and most determined defender of Compagni has failed to examinethe MS. With his own eyes. 

 [1] This is Isidoro del Lungo's Codex A. The note occurs also in the Ashburnham MS. Which Del Lungo refers to the fifteenth century. 

 [2] On this point it is worth mentioning that some good critics refer the poems to an elder Dino Compagni, who sat as Ancient in 1251. See the discussion of this question, as also of the authorship of the _Intelligenza_, claimed by Isidoro del Lungo for the writer of the 'Chronicle, ' in Borgognini's Essays (_Scritti Vari_, Bologna, Romagnoli, 1877, vol. I. ). With regard to the oration to Pope John XXII. Date 1326, it must be noted that this performance was first printed by Anton Francesco Doni in 1547, and that its genuineness may be disputed. See Carl Hegel, op. Cit. Pp. 18-22. 

 [3] The most important of Fanfani's numerous essays on the Compagni controversy, together with minor notes by his supporters, are collected in the book quoted above, Note to p. 241. Fanfani exceeds all bounds of decency in the language he uses, and in his arrogant claims to be considered an unique judge of fourteenth-century style. These claims he bases in some measure upon the fact that he deceived the Della Crusca by a forgery of his own making, which was actually accepted for the _Archivio Storico_. See op. Cit. P. 181. 

 [4] _Die Chronik_, etc. , pp. 53-57. 

 [5] _Die Chronik_, etc. , p. 39. 

 [6] See Hegel's op. Cit. P. 6. 

 [7] See Del Lungo, op. Cit. Vol. Ii. Pp. 19-23, and fac-simile, to face p. 1. This MS. Was bought by G. Libri from the Pucci family in 1840, and sold to Lord Ashburnham. Del Lungo identifies it with a MS. Which Braccio Compagni in the seventeenth century spoke of as 'la copia più antica, appresso il Signor senatore Pandolfini. '

Thus stands the question of Dino Compagni's 'Chronicle. ' The defendersof its authenticity, forced to admit Compagni's glaring inaccuracies, fall back upon arguments deduced from the internal spirit of the author, from the difficulties of fabricating a personal narrative instinct withthe spirit of the fourteenth century, from the hypotheses of a copyist'serrors or of a thorough-going literary process of rewriting at a laterdate, from the absence of any positive evidence of forgery, and fromgeneral considerations affecting the validity of destructive criticism. One thing has been clearly proved in the course of the controversy, thatthe book can have but little historical value when not corroborated. Still there is a wide gap between inaccuracy and willful fabrication. Until the best judges of Italian style are agreed that the 'Chronicle'could not have been written in the second decade of the fourteenthcentury, the arguments adduced from an examination of the facts recordedin it are not strong enough to demonstrate a forgery. There is thefurther question of _cui bono?_ which in all problems of literaryforgery must first receive some probable solution. What proof is therethat the vanity or the cupidity of any parties was satisfied by itsproduction? A book exists in a MS. Of about 1450, acquires some noticein a MS. Of 1514, but is not published to the world until 1726. Supposing it to have been a forgery, the labor of concocting it musthave been enormous. With all its defects, the 'Chronicle' would stillremain a masterpiece of historical research, imagination, sympathy withbygone modes of feeling, dramatic vigor, and antiquarian command oflanguage. But who profited by that labor? Not the author of the forgery, since he was dead or buried more than two centuries before hisfabrication became famous. Not the Compagni family; for there is noevidence to show that they had piqued themselves upon being thedepositaries of their ancestors masterpiece, nor did they make anyeffort, at a period when the printing-press was very active, to givethis jewel of their archives to the public. If it be objected that, onthe hypothesis of genuineness, the MS. Of the 'Chronicle' must have beendivulged before the beginning of the sixteenth century, we can adducetwo plausible answers. In the first place, Dino was the partisan of aconquered cause; and his family had nothing to gain by publishing anacrimonious political pamphlet during the triumph of his antagonists. Inthe second place, MSS. Of even greater literary importance disappearedin the course of the fourteenth century, to be reproduced when theirsubjects again excited interest in the literary world. The history ofDante's treatise _De Vulgari Eloquio_ is a case in point. With regard tostyle, no foreigner can pretend to be a competent judge. Reading thecelebrated description of Florence at the opening of Dino's 'Chronicle, 'I seem indeed, for my own part, to discern a post-Boccaccianartificiality of phrase. Still there is nothing to render it impossiblethat the 'Chronicle, ' as we possess it, in the texts of 1450(?) and1514, may be a _rifacimento_ of an elder and simpler work. In thatsection of my history which deals with Italian literature of thefifteenth century, I shall have occasion to show that such remodeling ofancient texts to suit the fashion of the time was by no meansunfrequent. The curious discrepancies between the _Trattato dellaFamiglia_ as written by Alberti and as ascribed to _Pandolfini_ can onlybe explained upon the hypothesis of such _rifacimento_. If thehistorical inaccuracies in which the 'Chronicle' abounds are adduced asconvincing proof of its fabrication, it may be replied that the authorof so masterly a romance would naturally have been anxious to preserve astrict accordance with documents of acknowledged validity. Consequently, these very blunders might not unreasonably be used to combat thehypothesis of deliberate forgery. It is remarkable, in this connection, that only one meager reference is made to Dante by the Chronicler, who, had he been a literary forger, would scarcely have omitted to enlargeupon this theme. Without, therefore, venturing to express a decidedopinion on a question which still divides the most competentItalian judges, I see no reason to despair of the problem beingultimately solved in a way less unfavorable to Dino Compagni thanScheffer-Boichorst and Fanfani would approve of. Considered as thefifteenth century _rifacimento_ of an elder document, the 'Chronicle'would lose its historical authority, but would still remain aninteresting monument of Florentine literature, and would certainly notdeserve the unqualified names of 'forgery' and 'fabrication' that havebeen unhesitatingly showered upon it. [1]

 [1] It is to be hoped that the completion of Del Lungo's work may put an end to the Compagni controversy, either by a solid vindication of the 'Chronicle, ' or by so weak a defense as to render further partisanship impossible. So far as his book has hitherto appeared, it contains no signs of an ultimate triumph. The weightiest point contained in it is the discovery of the Ashburnham MS. If Del Lungo fails to prove his position, we shall be left to choose between Scheffer-Boichorst's absolute skepticism or the modified view adopted by me in the text. 

The two chief Florentine historians of the fifteenth century areLionardo Bruni of Arezzo, and Poggio Bracciolini, each of whom, in hiscapacity of Chancellor to the Republic, undertook to write the annals ofthe people of Florence from the earliest date to his own time. LionardoAretino wrote down to the year 1404, and Poggio Bracciolini to the year1455. Their histories are composed in Latin, and savor much of thepedantic spirit of the age in which they were projected. [1] Both of themdeserve the criticism of Machiavelli, that they filled their pages tooexclusively with the wars and foreign affairs in which Florence wasengaged, failing to perceive that the true object of the historian is toset forth the life of a commonwealth as a continuous whole, to draw theportrait of a state with due regard to its especial physiognomy. [2] Tothis critique we may add that both Lionardo and Poggio were led astrayby the false taste of the earlier Renaissance. Their admiration for Livyand the pedantic proprieties of a labored Latinism made them pay moreattention to rhetoric than to the substance of their work. [3] We meetwith frigid imitations and bombastic generalities, where concisedetails and graphic touches would have been acceptable. In short, theseworks are rather studies of style in an age when the greatest stylistswere but bunglers and beginners, than valuable histories. The Italiansof the fifteenth century, striving to rival Cicero and Livy, succeededonly in becoming lifeless shadows of the past. History dictated underthe inspiration of pedantic scholarship, and with the object ofreproducing an obsolete style, by men of letters who had played noprominent part in the Commonwealth, [4] cannot pretend to the vigor andthe freshness that we admire so much in the writings of men like theVillani, Gino Capponi, Giovanni Cavalcanti, and many others. Yet evenafter making these deductions, it may be asserted with truth that nocity of Italy at this period of the Renaissance, except Florence, couldboast historiographers so competent. Vespasiano at the close of hisbiography of Poggio estimates their labor in sentences which deserve tobe remembered: 'Among the other singular obligations which the city ofFlorence owes to Messer Lionardo and to Messer Poggio, is this, thatexcept the Roman Commonwealth no republic or free state in Italy hasbeen so distinguished as the town of Florence, in having had two suchnotable writers to record its doings as Messer Lionardo and MesserPoggio; for up to the time of their histories everything was in thegreatest obscurity. If the republic of Venice, which can show so manywise citizens, had the deeds which they have done by sea and landcommitted to writing, it would be far more illustrious even than it isnow. And Galeazzo Maria, and Filippo Maria, and all the Visconti--theiractions would also be more famous than they are. Nay, there is not anyrepublic that ought not to give every reward to writers who shouldcommemorate its doings. We see at Florence that from the foundation ofthe city to the days of Messer Lionardo and Messer Poggio there was norecord of anything that the Florentines had done, in Latin, or historydevoted to themselves. Messer Poggio follows after Messer Lionardo, andwrites like him in Latin. Giovanni Villani, too, wrote an universalhistory in the vulgar tongue of whatsoever happened in every place, andintroduces the affairs of Florence as they happened. The same did MesserFilippo Villani, following after Giovanni Villani. These are they alonewho have distinguished Florence by the histories that they havewritten. '[5] The pride of the citizen and a just sense of the value ofhistory, together with sound remarks upon Venice and Milan, minglecuriously in this passage with the pedantry of a fifteenth-centuryscholar. 

 [1] Poggio's _Historia Populi Florentini_ is given in the XXth volume of Muratori's collection. Lionardo's _Istoria Fiorentina_, translated into Italian by Donato Acciajuoli, has been published by Le Monnier (Firenze, 1861). The high praise which Ugo Foscolo bestowed upon the latter seems due to a want of familiarity. 

 [2] See the preface to the _History of Florence_, by Machiavelli. 

 [3] Lionardo Bruni, for example, complains in the preface to his history that it is impossible to accommodate the rude names of his personages to a polished style. 

 [4] Both Poggio and Lionardo began life as Papal secretaries; the latter was not made a citizen of Florence till late in his career. 

 [5] _Vite di Uomini Illustri_. Barbera, 1859; p. 425. 

The historians of the first half of the sixteenth century are a raceapart. Three generations of pedantic erudition and of courtly orscholastic trifling had separated the men of letters from the men ofaction, and had made literature a thing of curiosity. Three generationsof the masked Medicean despotism had destroyed the reality of freedom inFlorence, and had corrupted her citizens to the core. Yet, strange tosay, it was at the end of the fifteenth century that the genius of thethirteenth revived. Italian literature was cultivated for its own sakeunder the auspices of Lorenzo de' Medici. The year 1494 marks theresurrection of the spirit of old liberty beneath the trumpet-blast ofSavonarola's oratory. Amid the universal corruption of public morals, from the depth of sloth and servitude, when the reality of liberty waslost, when fate and fortune had combined to render constitutionalreconstruction impossible for the shattered republics of Italy, theintellect of the Florentines displayed itself with more than its oldvigor in a series of the most brilliant political writers who have everillustrated one short but eventful period in the life of a singlenation. That period is marked by the years 1494 and 1537. It embracesthe two final efforts of the Florentines to shake off the Medicean yoke, the disastrous siege at the end of which they fell a prey to theselfishness of their own party-leaders, the persecution of Savonarola byPope Alexander, the Church-rule of Popes Leo and Clement, the extinctionof the elder branch of the Medici in its two bastards (Ippolito, poisoned by his brother Alessandro, and Alessandro poignarded by hiscousin Lorenzino), and the final eclipse of liberty beneath theSpain-appointed dynasty of the younger Medicean line in Duke Cosimo. Thenames of the historians of this period are Niccolo Machiavelli, JacopoNardi, Francesco Guicciardini, Filippo Nerli, Donato Giannotti, Benedetto Varchi, Bernardo Segni, and Jacopo Pitti. [1] In these men themental qualities which we admire in the Villani, Dante, and Compagnireappear, combined, indeed, in different proportions, tempered with thenew philosophy and scholarship of the Renaissance, and permeated withquite another morality. In the interval of two centuries freedom hasbeen lost. It is only the desire for freedom that survives. But that, after the apathy of the fifteenth century, is still a passion. Therectitude of instinct and the intense convictions of the earlier agehave been exchanged for a scientific clairvoyance, a 'stoic-epicureanacceptance' of the facts of vitiated civilization, which in men likeGuicciardini and Machiavelli is absolutely appalling. Nearly all theauthors of this period bear a double face. They write one set of memoirsfor the public, and another set for their own delectation. In theirinmost souls they burn with the zeal for liberty: yet they sell theirabilities to the highest bidder--to Popes whom they despise, and toDukes whom they revile in private. What makes the literary labors ofthese historians doubly interesting is that they were carried on for themost part independently; for though they lived at the same time, and insome cases held familiar conversation with each other, they gaveexpression to different shades of political opinion, and their historiesremained in manuscript till some time after their death. [2] The studentof the Renaissance has, therefore the advantage of comparing andconfronting a whole band of independent witnesses to the same events. Beside their own deliberate criticism of the drama in which all playedsome part as actors or spectators, we can use the not less importanttestimony they afford unconsciously, according to the bias of private orpolitical interest by which they are severally swayed. 

 [1] The dates of these historians are as follows:--

 BORN. DIED. Machiavelli 1469 1527 Nardi 1476 1556 Guicciardini 1482 1540 Nerli 1485 1536 Giannotti 1492 1572 Varchi 1502 1565 Segni 1504 1558 Pitti 1519 1589

 [2] Varchi, it is true, had Nardi's _History of Florence_ and Guicciardini's _History of Italy_ before him while he was compiling his _History of Florence_. But Segni and Nerli were given for the first time to the press in the last century; Pitti in 1842, and Guicciardini's _History of Florence_ in 1859. 

The Storia Fiorentina of Varchi extends from the year 1527 to the year1538; that of Segni from 1527 to 1555; that of Nardi from 1494 to 1552;that of Pitti from 1494 to 1529; that of Nerli from 1494 to 1537; thatof Guicciardini from 1420 to 1509. The prefatory chapters, which in mostcases introduce the special subject of each history, contain a series ofretrospective surveys over the whole history of Florence extremelyvaluable for the detailed information they contain, as well as for thecritical judgments of men whose acumen had been sharpened to the utmostby their practical participation in politics. It will not, perhaps, besuperfluous to indicate the different parts played by these historiansin the events of their own time. Guicciardini, it is well known, hadgoverned Bologna and Romagna for the Medicean Popes. He too wasinstrumental in placing Duke Cosimo at the head of the republic in 1536. At Naples, in 1535, he pleaded the cause of Duke Alessandro against theexiles before Charles V. Nardi on this occasion acted as secretary andadvocate for Filippo Strozzi and the exiles; his own history wascomposed in exile at Venice, where he died. Segni was nephew of theGonfalonier Capponi, and shared the anxieties of the moderate liberalsduring the siege of Florence. Pitti was a member of the great house whocontested the leadership of the republic with the Medici in thefifteenth century; his zeal for the popular party and his hatred of thePalleschi may still perhaps be tinctured with ancestral animosity. Giannotti, in whose critique of the Florentine republic we trace aspirit no less democratic than Pitti's, was also an actor in the eventsof the siege, and afterwards appeared among the exiles. In the attemptmade by the Cardinal Salviati (1537) to reconcile Duke Cosimo and theadherents of Filippo Strozzi, Giannotti was chosen as the spokesman forthe latter. He wrote and died in exile at Venice. Nerli again took partin the events of those troublous times, but on the wrong side, by mixinghimself up with the exiles and acting as a spy upon their projects. Allthe authors I have mentioned were citizens of Florence, and some ofthem were members of her most illustrious families. Varchi, in whom theflame of Florentine patriotism burns brightest, and who is by far themost copious annalist of the period, was a native of Montevarchi. Yet, as often happens, he was more Florentine than the Florentines; and ofthe events which he describes, he had for the most part been witness. Duke Cosimo employed him to write the history; it is a credit both tothe prince and to the author that its chapters should be full ofcriticisms so outspoken, and of aspirations after liberty so vehement. On the very first page of his preface Varchi dares to write these wordsrespecting Florence--'divenne, dico, di stato piuttosto corrotto elicenzioso, tirannide, che di sana e moderata repubblica, principato';[1] in which he deals blame with impartial justice allround. It must, however, be remembered that at the time when Varchiwrote, the younger branch of the Medici were firmly established on thethrone of Florence. Between this branch and the elder line there hadalways been a coldness. Moreover, all parties had agreed to accept theduchy as a divinely appointed instrument for rescuing the city from herfactions and reducing her to tranquillity. [2]

 [1] 'It passed, I say, from the condition of a corrupt and ill-conducted commonwealth to tyranny, rather than from a healthy and well-tempered republic to principality. '

 [2] See _Arch. Stor. _ vol. I. P. Xxxv. 

It would be beyond the purpose of this chapter to enter into thedetails of the history of Florence between 1527 and 1531--those years ofher last struggle for freedom, which have been so admirably depicted byher great political annalists. It is rather my object to illustrate theintellectual qualities of philosophical analysis and acute observationfor which her citizens were eminent. Yet a sketch of the situation isnecessary in order to bring into relief the different points of viewmaintained by Segni, Nardi, Varchi, Pitti, and Nerli respectively. 

At the period in question Florence was, according to the universaltestimony of these authors, too corrupt for real liberty and tooturbulent for the tranquil acceptance of a despotism. The yoke of theMedici had destroyed the sense of honor and the pride of the old noblefamilies; while the policy pursued by Lorenzo and the Popes had createda class of greedy professional politicians. The city was not contentwith slavery; but the burghers, eminent for wealth or ability, wereegotistical, vain, and mutually jealous. Each man sought advantage forhimself. Common action seemed impossible. The Medicean party, orPalleschi, were either extreme in their devotion to the ruling house, and desirous of establishing a tyranny; or else they were moderate andanxious to retain the Medici as the chiefs of a dominant oligarchy. Thepoint of union between these two divisions of the party was a prejudicein favor of class rule, a hope to get power and wealth for themselvesthrough the elevation of the princely family The popular faction on theother hand agreed in wishing to place the government of the city upon abroad republican basis. But the leaders of this section of the citizensfavored the plebeian cause from different motives. Some sought only away to riches and authority, which they could never have opened for themunder the oligarchy contemplated by the Palleschi. Others, styledFrateschi or Piagnoni, clung to the ideas of liberty which wereassociated with the high morality and impassioned creed of Savonarola. These were really the backbone of the nation, the class which might havesaved the state if salvation had been possible. Another section, steepedin the study of ancient authors and imbued with memories of Romanpatriotism, thought it still possible to secure the freedom of the stateby liberal institutions. These men we may call the Doctrinaires. Theirpanacea was the establishment of a mixed form of government, such asthat which Giannotti so learnedly illustrated. To these parties must beadded the red republicans, or Arrabbiati--a name originally reserved forthe worst adherents of the Medici, but now applied to fanatics ofJacobin complexion--and the Libertines, who only cared for such a formof government as should permit them to indulge their passions. 

Amid this medley of interests there resulted, as a matter of fact, twopolicies at the moment when the affairs of Florence, threatened by Popeand Emperor in combination, and deserted by France and the rest ofItaly, grew desperate. One was that of the Gonfalonier Capponi, whoadvocated moderate counsels and an accommodation with Clement VII. Theother was that of the Gonfalonier Carducci, who pushed things toextremities and used the enthusiasm of the Frateschi for sustaining thespirit of the people in the siege. [1] The latter policy triumphed overthe former. Its principles were an obstinate belief in Francis, thoughhe had clearly turned a deaf ear to Florence; confidence in thegenerals, Baglioni and Colonna, who were privately traitors to the causethey professed to defend; and reliance on the prophecies of Savonarola, supported by the preaching of the Friars Foiano, Bartolommeo, andZaccaria. Ill-founded as it was in fact, the policy of Carducci had onits side all that was left of nobility, patriotism, and the fire ofliberty among the Florentines. In spite of the hopelessness of theattempt, we cannot now read without emotion how bravely and desperatelythose last champions of freedom fought, to maintain the independence oftheir city at any cost, and in the teeth of overwhelming opposition. Thememory of Savonarola was the inspiration of this policy. Ferrucci wasits hero. It failed. It was in vain that the Florentines had laid wasteValdarno, destroyed their beautiful suburbs, and leveled their crown oftowers. It was in vain that they had poured forth their treasures to theuttermost farthing, had borne plague and famine without a murmur, andhad turned themselves at the call of their country into a nation ofsoldiers, Charles, Clement, the Palleschi, and MalatestaBaglioni--enemies without the city walls and traitors within itsgates--were too powerful for the resistance of burghers who had learnedbut yesterday to handle arms and to conduct a war on their ownaccount. [2] Florence had to capitulate. The venomous Palleschi, Francesco Guicciardini and Baccio Valori, by proscription, exile, andtaxation, drained the strength and broke the spirit of the state. Cæsarand Christ's Vicar, a new Herod and a new Pilate, embraced and madefriends over the prostrate corpse of sold and slaughtered liberty. Florence was paid as compensation for the insult offered to the Pontiffin the sack of Rome. 

 [1] Guicciardini, writing his _Ricordi_ during the first months of the siege, remarks upon the power of faith (_Op. Ined. _ vol. I. P. 83. Compare p. 134): 'Esemplo a' dì nostri ne è grandissimo questa ostinazione de' Fiorentini, che essendosi contro a ogni ragione del mondo messi a aspettare la guerra del papa e imperadore, senza speranza di alcuno soccorso di altri, disuniti e con mille difficultà, hanno sostenuto in quelle mura già sette mesi gli e serciti, e quali non sì sarebbe creduto che avessino sostenuti sette dì; e condotto le cose in luogo che se vincessino, nessuno più se ne maraviglierebbe, dove prima da tutti erano giudicati perduti; e questa ostinazione ha causata in gran parte la fede di non potere perire, secondo le predicazioni di Fra Jeronimo da Ferrara. '

 [2] See above, p. 238, for what Giannotti says of the heroic Ferrucci. 

The part played by Filippo Strozzi in this last drama of the libertiesof Florence is feeble and discreditable, but at the same timehistorically instructive, since it shows to what a point the noblest ofthe Florentines had fallen. All Pitti's invectives against theOttimati, bitter as they may be, are justified by the unvarnishednarrative we read upon the pages of Varchi and Segni concerning thismost vicious, selfish, vain, and brilliant hero of historical romance. Married to Clarice de' Medici, by whom he had a splendid family ofhandsome and vigorous sons, he was more than the rival of his wife'sprincely relatives by his wealth. Yet though he made a profession ofpatriotism, Filippo failed to use this great influence consistently as acounterpoise to the Medicean authority. It was he, for instance, whoadvised Lorenzo the younger to make himself Duke of Florence. Distinguished, as he was, above all men of his time for wit, urbanity, accomplishments, and splendid living, his want of character neutralizedthese radiant gifts of nature. His private morals were infamous. Heencouraged by precept and example the worst vices of his age and nation, consorting with young men whom he instructed in the arts of dissoluteliving, and to whom he communicated his own selfish Epicureanism. To himin a great measure may be attributed the corruption of the Florentinearistocracy in the sixteenth century. In his public action he was noless vacillating than unprincipled in private life. After prevailingupon Ippolito and Alessandro de' Medici to leave Florence in 1527, hefailed to execute his trust of getting Pisa from their grasp (moved, itis said, by a guilty fondness for the young and handsome Ippolito), nordid he afterwards share any of the hardships and responsibilities ofthe siege. Indeed, he then found it necessary to retire into exile inFrance, on the excuse of superintending his vast commercial affairs atLyons. After the restoration of the Medici he returned to Florence asthe courtier of Duke Alessandro, whom he aided and abetted in hisjuvenile debaucheries. Quarreling with Alessandro on the occasion of aninsult offered to his daughter Luisa, and the accusation of murderbrought against his son Piero, he went into opposition and exile, lessfor political than for private reasons. After the murder of Alessandro, he received Lorenzo de' Medici, the fratricide, with the title of'Second Brutus' at Venice. Meanwhile it was he who paid the dowry ofCatherine de' Medici to the Duke of Orleans, helping thus to strengthenthe house of princes against whom he was plotting, by that splendidforeign alliance which placed a descendant of the Florentinebill-brokers on the throne of France. After all these vicissitudesFilippo Strozzi headed an armed attack upon the dominions of DukeCosimo, was taken in the battle of Montemurlo, and finally was murderedin that very fortress, outside the Porto a Faenza, which he hadcounseled Alessandro to construct for the intimidation of theFlorentines. [1] The historians with the exception of Nerli agree indescribing him as a pleasure-loving and self-seeking man, whose manychanges of policy were due, not to conviction, but to the desire ofgaining the utmost license of disorderly living. At the same time wecannot deny him the fame of brilliant mental qualities, a princelybearing, and great courage. 

 [1] See Varchi, vol. Iii. P. 61, for the first stone laid of this castle. It should be said that accounts disagree about Filippo's death. Nerli very distinctly asserts that he committed suicide. Segni inclines to the belief that he was murdered by the creatures of Duke Cosimo. 

The moral and political debility which proved the real source of theruin of Florence is accounted for in different ways by the historians ofthe siege. Pitti, whose insight into the situation is perhaps thekeenest, and who is by far the most outspoken, does not refer thefailure of the Florentines to the cowardice or stupidity of the popularparty, but to the malignity of the Palleschi, the double-dealing andegotism of the wealthy nobles, who to suit their own interests favorednow one and now another of the parties. These Ottimati--as he callsthem, by a title borrowed from classical phraseology--whether theyprofessed the Medicean or the popular cause, were always bent onself-aggrandizement at the expense of the people or their princes. [1]The sympathies of Pitti were on the side of the plebeians, whose policyduring the siege was carried out by the Gonfalonier Carducci. At thesame time he admitted the feebleness and insufficiency of many of thesemen, called from a low rank of life and from mechanical trades to theadministration of the commonwealth. The state of Florence under PieroSoderini--that 'non mai abbastanza lodato cavaliere, ' as he callshim--was the ideal to which he reverted with longing eyes. Segni, on theother hand, condemns the ambition of the plebeian leaders, and declareshis opinion that the State could only have been saved by the moremoderate among the influential citizens. He belonged in fact to thatsection of the Medicean party which Varchi styles the Neutrals. He hadstrong aristocratic leanings, and preferred a government of nobles tothe popular democracy which flourished under Francesco Carducci. Whilehe desired the liberty of Florence, Segni saw that the republic couldnot hold its own against both Pope and Emperor, at a crisis when theKing of France, who ought to have rendered assistance in the hour ofneed, was bound by the treaty of Cambray, and by the pledges he hadgiven to Charles in the persons of his two sons. The policy of whichSegni approved was that which Niccolo Capponi had prepared before hisfall--a reconciliation with Clement through the intervention of theEmperor, according to the terms of which the Medici should have beenrestored as citizens of paramount authority, but not as sovereigns. Varchi, while no less alive to the insecurity of Carducci's policy, wasanimated with a more democratic spirit. He had none of Segni's Whigleanings, but shared the patriotic enthusiasm which at that suprememoment made the whole state splendidly audacious in the face ofinsurmountable difficulties. Both Segni and Varchi discerned theexaggerated and therefore baneful influence of Savonarola's propheciesover the populace of Florence. In spite of continued failure, the peoplekept trusting to the monk's prediction that, after her chastisement, Florence would bloom forth with double luster, and that angels in thelast resort would man her walls and repel the invaders. There issomething pathetic in this delusion of a great city, trusting withinfantine pertinacity to the promises of the man whom they had seenburned as an impostor, when all the while their statesmen and theirgenerals were striking bargains with the foe. Nardi is more sincerelyPiagnone than either Segni or Varchi. Yet, writing after the events ofthe siege, his faith is shaken; and while he records his conviction thatSavonarola was an excellent Nomothetes, he questions his propheticmission, and deplores the effect produced by his vain promises. Nerli, as might have been expected from a noble married to Caterina Salviati, the niece of Leo and the aunt of Cosimo, who had himself been courtierto Clement and privy councilor to Alessandro, sustains the Medicean notethroughout his commentaries. 

 [1] He goes so far as to assert that Leo X. And Clement VII. Wished to give a liberal constitution to Florence, but that their plans were frustrated by the avarice and jealousy of the would-be oligarchs. See _Arch. Stor_. Vol. I. Pp. 121, 131. The passages quoted from his 'Apologia de' Cappucci, ' relative to Machiavelli, Filippo Strozzi, and Francesco Guicciardini (_Arch. Stor_. Vol. I. Pp. Xxxix. Xxxviii. ), are very instructive; with such greedy self-seeking oligarchs, it was impossible for the Medicean Popes to establish any government but a tyranny in Florence. 

Thus from these five authors, writing from different points of view, wegain a complete insight into the complicated politics of Florence, at aperiod when her vitality was still vigorous, but when she had lost allfaculty for centralized or concerted action. In sagacity, in the powerof analysis with which they pierce below the surface, trace effects tocauses, discern character, and regard the facts of history as the propersubject-matter of philosophical reflection, they have much in common. Hewho has seen Rembrandt's painting of the dissecting-room might constructfor himself another picture, in which the five grave faces of thesepatient observers should be bent above the dead and diseased body oftheir native city. Life is extinct. Nothing is left for science but, scalpel in hand, to lay bare the secret causes of dissolution. Eachanatomist has his own opinion to deliver upon the nature of the malady. Each records the facts revealed by the autopsy according to his ownimpressions. 

The literary qualities of these historians are very different, and seemto be derived from essential differences in their characters. Pitti isby far the most brilliant in style, concentrated in expression to thepoint of epigram, and weighty in judgment. Nardi, though deficient insome of the most attractive characteristics of the historian, isinvaluable for sincerity of intention and painstaking accuracy. Thephilosophical, rhetorical, and dramatic passages which add so muchsplendor to the works of Guicciardini are absent from the pages ofNardi. He is anxious to present a clear picture of what happened; but hecannot make it animated, and he never reflects at length upon thematter of his history. At the same time he lacks the _naïiveté_ whichmakes Corio, Allegretti, Infessura, and Matarazzo so amusing. He gossipsas little as Machiavelli, and has no profundity to make up for the wantof piquancy. The interest of his chronicle is greatest in the part whichconcerns Savonarola, though even here the peculiarly reticent anddubitative nature of the man is obvious. While he sympathizes withSavonarola's political and moral reforms, he raises a doubt about hisinner sincerity, and does not approve of the attitude of thePiagnoni. [1] In his estimation of men Nardi was remarkably cautious, preferring always to give an external relation of events, instead ofanalyzing motives or criticising character. [2] He is in especial silentabout bad men and criminal actions. Therefore, when he passes an adversejudgment (as, for instance, upon Cesare Borgia), or notes a dark act (asthe _stuprum_ committed upon Astorre Manfredi), his corroboration ofhistorians more addicted to scandal is important. Segni is far morelively than Nardi, while he is not less painstaking to be accurate. Heshows a partisan feeling, especially in his admiration for NiccoloCapponi and his prejudice against Francesco Carducci, which gives therelish of personality that Nardi's cautiously dry chronicle lacks. Rarely have the entangled events of a specially dramatic period been setforth more lucidly, more succinctly, and with greater elegance of style. Segni is deficient, when compared with Varchi, only perhaps in volume, minuteness, and that wonderful mixture of candor, enthusiasm, and zealfor truth which makes Varchi incomparable. His sketches of men, critiques, and digressions upon statistical details are far less copiousthan Varchi's. But in idiomatic purity of language he is superior. Varchi had been spoiled by academic habits of composition. His languageis diffuse and lumbering. He lacks the vivacity of epigram, selection, and pointed phrase. But his Storia Fiorentina remains the most valuablerepertory of information we possess about the later vicissitudes of therepublic, and the charm of detail compensates for the lack of style. Nerli is altogether a less interesting writer than those that have beenmentioned; yet some of the particulars which he relates, aboutSavonarola's reform of manners, for example, and the literary gatheringsin the Rucellai gardens, are such as we find nowhere else. 

 [1] Book ii. Cap. 16. 

 [2] See lib. Ii. Cap. 34: 'Nel nostro scrivere non intendiamo far giudizio delle cose incerte, e massimamente della intenzione e animo segreto degli uomini, che non apparisce chiara se non per congettura e riscontro delle cose esteriori. E però stando termo il primo proposito, vogliamo raccontare quanto più possibile ci sia, la verità delle cose fatte, più tosto che delle pensate o immaginate. ' This is dignified and noble language in an age which admired the brilliant falsehoods of Giovio. 

Many of my readers will doubtless feel that too much time has been spentin the discussion of these annalists of the siege of Florence. Yet forthe student of history they have a value almost unique. They suggest thepossibilities of a true science of comparative history, and reveal avivacity of the historic consciousness which can be paralleled by noother nation. How different might be our conception of the vicissitudesof Athens between 404 and 338 B. C. If we possessed a similar Pleiad ofcontemporary Greek authors!

Having traced the development of historical research and politicalphilosophy in Florence from the year 1300 to the fall of the Republic, it remains to speak of the two greatest masters of practical andtheoretical statecraft--Francesco Guicciardini and Niccolo Machiavelli. These two writers combine all the distinctive qualities of theFlorentine historiographers in the most eminent perfection. At the sametime they are, not merely as authors but also as men, mirrors of thetimes in which they both played prominent parts. In their biographiesand in their works we trace the spirit of an age devoid of moralsensibility, penetrative in analysis, but deficient in faith, hope, enthusiasm, and stability of character. The dry light of the intellectdetermined their judgment of men, as well as their theories ofgovernment. On the other hand, the sordid conditions of existence towhich they were subjected as the servants of corrupt states, or theinstruments of wily princes--as diplomatists intent upon the plans ofkings like Ferdinand or adventurers like Cesare Borgia, privy councilorsof such Popes as Clement VII. And such tyrants as Duke Alessandro de'Medici--distorted their philosophy and blunted their instincts. For thestudent of the sixteenth century they remain riddles, the solution ofwhich is difficult, because by no strain of the imagination is it easyto place ourselves in their position. One half of their writtenutterances seem to be at variance with the other half. Their actionsoften contradict their most brilliant and emphatic precepts; whilecontemporaries disagree about their private character and publicconduct. All this confusion, through which it is now perhaps impossibleto discern what either Guicciardini or Machiavelli really was, and whatthey really felt and thought, is due to the anomaly of consummateability and unrivaled knowledge of the world existing without religiousor political faith, in an age of the utmost depravity of public andprivate morals. No criticism could be more stringent upon thecontemporary disorganization of society in Italy than is the silentwitness of these men, sublimely great in all mental qualities, buthelplessly adrift upon a sea of contradictions and of doubts, ignorantof the real nature of mankind in spite of all their science, becausethey leave both goodness and beauty out of their calculations. 

Francesco Guicciardini was born in 1482. In 1505, at the age oftwenty-three, he had already so distinguished himself as a student oflaw that he was appointed by the Signoria of Florence to read theInstitutes in public. However, as he preferred active to professorialwork, he began at this time to practice at the bar, where he soon rankedas an able advocate and eloquent speaker. This reputation, togetherwith his character for gravity and insight, determined the Signoria tosend him on an embassy to the Court of Ferdinand of Aragon in 1512. ThusGuicciardini entered on the real work of his life as a diplomatist andstatesman. We may also conclude with safety that it was at the court ofthat crowned hypocrite and traitor to all loyalty of soul that helearned his first lessons in political cynicism. The court of Spainunder Ferdinand the Catholic was a perfect school of perfidy, where evenan Italian might discern deeper reaches of human depravity and formulatefor his own guidance a philosophy of despair. It was whispered by hisenemies that here, upon the threshold of his public life, Guicciardinisold his honor by accepting a bribe from Ferdinand. [1] Certain it isthat avarice was one of his besetting sins, and that from this timeforward he preferred expediency to justice, and believed in the policyof supporting force by clever dissimulation. [2] Returning to Florence, Guicciardini was, in 1515, deputed to meet Leo X. On the part of theRepublic at Cortona. Leo, who had the faculty of discerning able men andmaking use of them, took him into favor, and three years later appointedhim Governor of Reggio and Modena. In 1521 Parma was added to his rule. Clement VII. Made him Viceroy of Romagna in 1523, and in 1526 elevatedhim to the rank of Lieutenant-General of the Papal army. In consequenceof this high commission, Guicciardini shared in the humiliationattaching to all the officers of the League who, with the Duke of Urbinoat their head suffered Rome to be sacked and the Pope to be imprisonedin 1527. The blame of this contemptible display of cowardice or privatespite cannot, however, be ascribed to him: for he attended the armies ofthe League not as general, but as counselor and chief reporter. It washis business not to control the movements of the army so much as to actas referee in the Pope's interest, and to keep the Vatican informed ofwhat was stirring in the camp. In 1531 Guicciardini was advanced to thegovernorship of Bologna, the most important of all the Papallord-lieutenancies. This post he resigned in 1534 on the election ofPaul III. , preferring to follow the fortunes of the Medicean princes atFlorence. In this sketch of his career I must not omit to mention thatGuicciardini was declared a rebel in 1527 by the popular government onaccount of his well-known Medicean prejudices, and that in 1530 he hadbeen appointed by Clement VII. To punish the rebellious citizens. On thelatter occasion he revenged himself for the insults offered him in 1527by the cruelty with which he pushed proscription to the utmost limits, relegating his enemies to unhealthy places of exile, burdening them withintolerable fines, and using all the indirect means which his ingenuitycould devise for forcing them into outlawry and contumacy. [3] Thereforewhen he returned to inhabit Florence, he did so as the creature of theMedici, sworn to maintain the bastard Alessandro in his power. He waselected a member of the Senate of eighty; and so thoroughly did heespouse the cause of his new master, that he had the face to undertakethe Duke's defense before Charles V. At Naples in 1535. On this occasionAlessandro, who had rendered himself unbearable by his despotic habits, and in particular by the insults which he offered to women of all ranksand conditions in Florence, was arraigned by the exiles before the barof Cæsar. Guicciardini won the cause of his client, and restoredAlessandro with an Imperial confirmation of his despotism to Florence. This period of his political career deserves particular attention, sinceit displays a glaring contradiction between some of his unpublishedcompositions and his actions, and confirms the accusations of hisenemies. [4] That he should have preferred a government of Ottimati, orwealthy nobles, to a more popular constitution, and that he should haveadhered with fidelity to the Medicean faction in Florence, is no groundfor censure. [5] But when we find him in private unmasking the artificesof the despots by the most relentless use of frigid criticism, andadvocating a mixed government upon the type of the VenetianConstitution, we are constrained to admit with Varchi and Pitti that hissupport of Alessandro was prompted less by loyalty than by a desire togratify his own ambition and avarice under the protective shadow of theMedicean tyranny. [6] He belonged in fact to those selfish citizens whomPitti denounces, diplomatists and men of the world, whose thirst forpower induced them to play into the hands of the Medici, wishing to suckthe state[7] themselves, and to hold the prince in the leading-stringsof vice and pleasure for their own advantage. [8] After the murder ofAlessandro, it was principally through Guicciardini's influence thatCosimo was placed at the head of the Florentine Republic with the titleof Duke. Cosimo was but a boy, and much addicted to field sports. Guicciardini therefore reckoned that, with an assured income of 12, 000ducats, the youth would be contented to amuse himself, while he left thegovernment of Florence in the hands of his Vizier. [9] But here the wilypolitician overreached himself. Cosimo wore an old head on his youngshoulders. With decent modesty and a becoming show of deference, he usedGuicciardini as his ladder to mount the throne by, and then kicked theladder away. The first days of his administration showed that heintended to be sole master in Florence. Guicciardini, perceiving thathis game was spoiled, retired to his villa in 1537 and spent the lastyears of his life in composing his histories. The famous Istoria d'Italia was the work of one year of this enforced retirement. Thequestion irresistibly rises to our mind, whether some of the severecriticisms passed upon the Medici in his unpublished compositions werethe fruit of these same bitter leisure hours. [10] Guicciardini died in1540 at the age of fifty-eight, without male heirs. 

 [1] See the 'Apologia de' Cappucci, ' _Arch. Stor. _ vol. Iv. Part 2, p. 318. 

 [2] For the avarice of Guicciardini, see Varchi, vol. I. P. 318. His _Ricordi Politici_ amply justify the second, though not the first, clause of this sentence. 

 [3] See Varchi, book xii. (and especially cap. Xxv. ), for these arts; he says, 'Nel che messer Francesco Guicciardini si scoperse più crudele e più appassionato degli altri. '

 [4] Knowing what sort of tyrant Alessandro was, and remembering 'hat Guicciardini had written (_Ricordi_, No. Ccxlii. ): 'La calcina con che si murano gli stati de' tiranni è il sangue de' cittadini: però doverebbe sforzarsi ognuno che nella città sua non s'avessino a murare tali palazzi, ' it is very difficult to approve of his advocacy of the Duke. 

 [5] Though even here the selfish ambition of the man was apparent to contemporaries: 'egli arebbe voluto uno stato col nome d' Ottimati, ma in fatti de' Pochi, nel quale larghissima parte, per le sue molte e rarissime qualità, meritissimamente gli si venia. '--Varchi, vol. I. P. 318. 

 [6] Guicciardini's _Storia Fiorentina_ and _Reggimento di Firenze_ (_Op. Ined. _ vols. I, and iii. ) may be consulted for his private critique of the Medici. What was the judgment passed upon him by contemporaries may be gathered from Varchi, vols. I. Pp. 238, 318; ii. 410; iii. 204. Segni, pp. 219, 332. Nardi, vol. Ii. P. 287. Pitti, quoted in _Arch. Stor. _ vol. I. P. Xxxviii. , and the 'Apologia de' Cappucci' (_Arch. Stor. _ vol. Iv. Pt. 2). It is, however, only fair to Guicciardini to record here his opinion, expressed in _Ricordi_, Nos. Ccxx. And cccxxx. , that it was the duty of good citizens to seek to guide the tyrant: 'Credo sia uficio di buoni cittadini, quando la patria viene in mano di tiranni, cercare d'avere luogo con loro per potere persuadere il bene, e detestare il male; e certo è interesse della città che in qualunque tempo gli uomini da bene abbino autorità; e ancora che gli ignoranti e passionati di Firenze l' abbino sempre intesa altrimenti, si accorgerebbono quanta pestifero sarebbe il governo de' Medici, se non avessi intorno altri che pazzi e cattivi. '

 [7] See Varchi, vol. Iii. P. 204. 'Che Cosimo . .. _succiarsi lo stato_. '

 [8] Pitti dips his pen in gall when he describes these citizens: 'Cotesti vogliosi Ottimati; i quali non hanno saputo mai ritrovare luogo che piaccia loro, sottomendosi ora al Medici per l'ingorda avarizia; ora gittandosi al popolo, per non potere a modo loro tiraneggiare; ora rivendendolo a' Medici, vedutisi scoperti e raffrenati da lui; e sempre mai con danno della Repubblica, e di ciascuna parte, inquieti, insaziabili e fraudolenti. '--'Apologia de' Cappucci, ' _Arch. Stor. _ xv. Pt. Ii. P. 215. 

 [9] Here is a graphic touch in Varchi's _History_, vol. Iii. P. 202. Guicciardini is discussing the appointment of Cosimo de' Medici: 'Gli dovessero esser pagati per suo piatto ogn' anno 12, 000 fiorini d' oro, e non più, avendo il Guicciardino, _abbassando il viso e alzando gli occhi_, detto: "Un 12, 000 fiorini d' oro è--un bello spendere. "'

 [10] Pitti seems to have taken this view: see 'Apologia de' Cappucci' (_Arch. Stor. _ vol. Iv. Part ii. P. 329): 'Tosto che 'l duca Cosimo lo pose a sedere insieme con certi altri suoi colleghi, si adirò malamente; e se la disputa della provvisione non l' avesse ritenuto, sarebbe ito a servire papa Pagolo terzo. Onde, restato confuso e disperato, si tratteneva alla sua villa di Santa Margarita a Montici; dove transportato dalla stizza ritoccò in molte parti la sua Istoria, per mostrare di non essere stato della setta Pallesca; e dove potette, accattó l' occasione di parere istrumento della Repubblica. ' Guicciardini's own apology for his treatment of the Medici, in the proemio to the treatise _Del Reggimento di Firenze_, deserves also to be read. 

Turning now from the statesman to the man of letters, we find inGuicciardini one of the most consummate historians of any nation or ofany age. The work by which he is best known, the Istoria d' Italia, isone that can scarcely be surpassed for masterly control of a veryintricate period, for subordination of the parts to the whole, forcalmness of judgment and for philosophic depth of thought. Consideringthat Guicciardini in this great work was writing the annals of his owntimes, and that he had to disentangle the raveled skein of Italianpolitics in the sixteenth century, these qualities are most remarkable. The whole movement of the history recalls the pomp and dignity of Livy, while a series of portraits sketched from life with the unerring hand ofan anatomist and artist add something of the vivid force of Tacitus. YetGuicciardini in this work deserves less commendation as a writer than asa thinker. There is a manifest straining to secure style, bymanipulation and rehandling, which contrasts unfavorably with theunaffected ease, the pregnant spontaneity, of his unpublished writings. His periods are almost interminable, and his rhetoric is prolix andmonotonous. We can trace the effort to emulate the authors of antiquitywithout the ease which is acquired by practice or the taste that comeswith nature. 

The transcendent merit of the history is this--that it presents us witha scientific picture of politics and of society during the first half ofthe sixteenth century. The picture is set forth with a clairvoyance anda candor that are almost terrible. The author never feels enthusiasm fora moment: no character, however great for good or evil, rouses him fromthe attitude of tranquil disillusioned criticism. He utters but fewexclamations of horror or of applause. Faith, religion, conscience, self-subordination to the public good, have no place in his list ofhuman motives; interest, ambition, calculation, envy, are the forceswhich, according to his experience, move the world. That thestrong should trample on the weak, that the wily should circumvent theinnocent, that hypocrisy and fraud and dissimulation should triumph, seems to him but natural. His whole theory of humanity is tinged withthe sad gray colors of a stolid, cold-eyed, ill-contented, egotisticalindifference. He is not angry, desperate, indignant, but phlegmaticallyprudent, face to face with the ruin of his country. For him the worldwas a game of intrigue, in which his friends, his enemies, and himselfplayed parts, equally sordid, with grave faces and hearts bent only onthe gratification of mean desires. Accordingly, though his mastery ofdetail, his comprehension of personal motives, and his analysis of craftare alike incomparable, we find him incapable of forming general viewswith the breadth of philosophic insight or the sagacity of a frank andindependent nature. The movements of the eagle and the lion must beunintelligible to the spider or the fox. It was impossible forGuicciardini to feel the real greatness of the century, or to foreseethe new forces to which it was giving birth. He could not divine themomentous issues of the Lutheran schism; and though he perceived theimmediate effect upon Italian politics of the invasion of the French, hefailed to comprehend the revolution marked out for the future in theshock of the modern nations. While criticising the papacy, he discernedthe pernicious results of nepotism and secular ambition: but he had noinstinct for the necessity of a spiritual and religious regeneration. His judgment of the political situation led him to believe that theseveral units of the Italian system might be turned to profit andaccount by the application of superficial remedies, --by the developmentof despotism, for example, or of oligarchy, when in reality the decay ofthe nation was already past all cure. 

Two other masterpieces from Guicciardini's pen, the _Dialogo delReggimento di Firenze_ and the _Storia Fiorentina_, have been given tothe world during the last twenty years. To have published themimmediately after their author's death would have been inexpedient, since they are far too candid and outspoken to have been acceptable tothe Medicean dynasty. Yet in these writings we find Guicciardini at hisbest. Here he has not yet assumed the mantle of the rhetorician, whichin the _Istoria d' Italia_ sits upon him somewhat cumbrously. His styleis more spontaneous; his utterances are less guarded. Writing forhimself alone, he dares to say more plainly what he thinks and feels. Atthe same time the political sagacity of the statesman is revealed in allits vigor. I have so frequently used both of these treatises that I neednot enter into a minute analysis of their contents. It will be enough toindicate some of the passages which display the literary style and thescientific acumen of Guicciardini at their best. The _Reggimento diFirenze_ is an essay upon the form of government for which Florence wasbest suited. Starting with a discussion of Savonarola's constitution, inwhich ample justice is done to the sagacity and promptitude by means ofwhich he saved the commonwealth at a critical juncture (pp. 27-30), theinterlocutors pass to an examination of the Medicean tyranny (pp. 34-49). This is one of the masterpieces of Guicciardini's analysis. Heshows how the administration of justice, the distribution of publichonors, and the foreign policy of the republic were perverted by thisfamily. He condemns Cosimo's tyrannical application of fines and imposts(p. 68), Piero the younger's insolence (p. 46), and Lorenzo'sappropriation of the public moneys to his private use (p. 43). Yet whilesetting forth the vices of this tyranny in language which even Sismondiwould have been contented to translate and sign, Guicciardini shows nopassion. The Medici were only acting as befitted princes eager forpower, although they crushed the spirit of the people, discouragedpolitical ardor, extinguished military zeal, and did all that in themlay to enervate the nation they governed. The scientific statistacknowledges no reciprocal rights and duties between the governor andthe governed. It is a trial of strength. If the tyrant gets the upperhand, the people must expect to be oppressed. If, on the other side, thepeople triumph, they must take good care to exterminate the despoticbrood: 'The one true remedy would be to destroy and extinguish them soutterly that not a vestige should remain, and to employ for this purposethe poignard or poison, as may be most convenient; otherwise the leastsurviving spark is certain to cause trouble and annoyance for thefuture'(p. 215). The same precise criticism lays bare the weakness ofdemocracy. Men, says Guicciardini, always really desire their own powermore than the freedom of the state (p. 50), and the motives even oftyrannicides are very rarely pure (pp. 53-54). The governmentsestablished by the liberals are full of defects. The Consiglio Grande, for example, of the Florentines is ignorant in its choice ofmagistrates, unjust in its apportionment of taxes, scarcely lessprejudiced against individuals than a tyrant would be, and incapable ofdiplomatic foreign policy (pp. 58-69). Then follows a discussion of therelative merits of the three chief forms of government--the Governodell' Uno, the Governo degli Ottimati, and the Governo del Popolo (p. 129). Guicciardini has already criticised the first and the third. [1] Henow expresses a strong opinion that the second is the worst which couldbe applied to the actual conditions of the Florentine Republic (p. 130). His panegyric of the Venetian constitution (pp. 139-41) illustrates hisplan for combining the advantages of the three species and obviatingtheir respective evils. In fact he declares for that Utopia of thesixteenth century--the Governo Misto--a political invention whichfascinated the imagination of Italian statesmen much in the same way asthe theory of perpetual motion attracted scientific minds in the lastcentury. [2] What follows is an elaborate scheme for applying theprinciples of the Governo Misto to the existing state of things inFlorence. This lucid and learned disquisition is wound up (p. 188) witha mournful expression of the doubt which hung like a thick cloud overall the political speculations of both Guicciardini and Machiavelli: 'Ihold it very doubtful, and I think it much depends on chance whetherthis disorganized constitution will ever take new shape or not . .. Andas I said yesterday, I should have more hope if the city were but young;seeing that not only does a state at the commencement take form withgreater facility than one that has grown old under evil governments, butthings always turn out more prosperously and more easily while fortuneis yet fresh and has not run its course, ' etc. [3] In reading theDialogue on the Constitution of Florence it must finally be rememberedthat Guicciardini has thrown it back into the year 1494, and that hespeaks through the mouths of four interlocutors. Therefore we maypresume that he intended his readers to regard it as a work ofspeculative science rather than of practical political philosophy. Yetit is not difficult to gather the drift of his own meaning. 

 [1] Cf. _Ricordi_, cxl. : 'Chi disse uno popolo, disse veramente uno animale pazzo, pieno ni mille errori, di mille confusioni, sanza gusto, sanza diletto, sanza stabilità. ' It should be noted that Guicciardini here and elsewhere uses the term Popolo in its fuller democratic sense. The successive enlargements of the burgher class in Florence, together with the study of Greek and Latin political philosophy, had introduced the modern connotation of the term. 

 [2] A lucid criticism of the three forms of government is contained in Guicciardini's Comment on the second chapter of the first book of Machiavelli's _Discorsi_ (_Op. Ined. _ vol. I. P. 6): 'E non è dubio che il governo misto delle tre spezie, principi, ottimati e popolo, è migliore e più stabile che uno governo semplice di qualunque delle tre spezie, e massime quando è misto in modo che di qualunque spezie è tolto il buono e lasciato indietro il cattivo. ' Machiavelli had himself, in the passage criticised, examined the three simple governments and declared in favor of the mixed as that which gave stability to Sparta, Rome, and Venice. The same line of thought may be traced in the political speculations of both Plato and Aristotle. The Athenians and Florentines felt the superior stability of the Spartan and Venetian forms of government, just as a French theorist might idealize the English constitution. The essential element of the Governo Misto, which Florence had lost beyond the possibility of regaining it, was a body of hereditary and patriotic patricians. This gave its strength to Venice; and this is that which hitherto has distinguished the English nation. 

 [3] Compare _Ricordi Politici e Civili_, No. Clxxxix. , for a lament of this kind over the decrepitude of kingdoms, almost sublime in its stoicism. 

The _Istoria Fiorentina_ is a succinct narrative of the events ofItalian History, especially as they concerned Florence, between theyears 1378 and 1509. In other words it relates the vicissitudes of theRepublic under the Medici, and the administration of the GonfalonierSoderini. This masterpiece of historical narration sets forth withbrevity and frankness the whole series of events which are rhetoricallyand cautiously unfolded in the Istoria d' Italia. Most noticeable arethe characters of Lorenzo de' Medici (cap. Ix. ), of Savonarola (cap. Xvii. ), and of Alexander VI. (cap. Xxvii. ). The immediate consequencesof the French invasion have never been more ably treated than in Chapterxi. , while the whole progress of Cesare Borgia in his career of villanyis analyzed with exquisite distinctness in Chapter xxvi. The wisdom ofGuicciardini nowhere appears more ripe, or his intellect more elastic, than in the _Istoria Fiorentina_. Students who desire to gain a stillcloser insight into the working of Guicciardini's mind should consultthe 403 _Ricordi Politici e Civili_ collected in the first volume of his_Opere Inedite_. These have all the charm which belongs to occasionalutterances, and are fit, like proverbs, to be worn for jewels on thefinger of time. 

The biography of Niccolo Machiavelli consists for the most part of arecord of his public services to the State of Florence. He was born onMay 3, 1469, of parents who belonged to the prosperous middle class ofFlorentine citizens. His ancestry was noble; for the old tradition whichconnected his descent with the feudal house of Montespertoli has beenconfirmed by documentary evidence. [1] His forefathers held offices ofhigh distinction in the Commonwealth; and though their wealth andstation had decreased, Machiavelli inherited a small landed estate. Hisfamily, who were originally settled in the Val di Pesa, owned farms atSan Casciano and in other villages of the Florentine dominion, a list ofwhich may be seen in the return presented by his father Bernardo to therevenue office in 1498. [2] Their wealth was no doubt trivial incomparison with that which citizens amassed by trade in Florence; for itwas not the usage of those times to draw more than the necessaries oflife from the Villa: all superfluities were provided by the Bottega inthe town. [3] Yet there can be no question, after a comparison ofBernardo Machiavelli's return of his landed property with NiccoloMachiavelli's will, [4] that the illustrious war secretary at all periodsof his life owned just sufficient property to maintain his family in adecent, if not a dignified, style. About his education we know next tonothing. Giovio[5] asserts that he possessed but little Latin, and thathe owed the show of learning in his works to quotations furnished byMarcellus Virgilius. This accusation, which, whether it be true or not, was intended to be injurious, has lost its force in an age that, likeours, values erudition less than native genius. It is certain thatMachiavelli knew quite enough of Latin and Greek literature to serve histurn; and his familiarity with some of the classical historians andphilosophers is intimate. There is even too much parade in his works ofillustrations borrowed from Polybius, Livy, and Plutarch: the onlyquestion is whether Machiavelli relied upon translations rather thanoriginals. On this point, it is also worthy of remark that his culturewas rather Roman than Hellenic. Had he at any period of his life made asprofound a study of Plato's political dialogues as he made of Livy'shistories, we cannot but feel that his theories both of government andstatecraft might have been more concordant with a sane and normalhumanity. 

 [1] See Villani's _Machiavelli_, vol. I. P. 303. Ed. Le Monnier. 

 [2] See vol. I. Of the edition of Machiavelli, by Mess. Fanfani and Passerini, Florence, 1873; p. Lv. Villani's Machiavelli, ib. P. 306. The income is estimated at about 180_l. _

 [3] See Pandolfini, _Trattato del Governo della Famiglia_. 

 [4] Fanfani and Passerini's edition, vol. I. P. Xcii. 

 [5] Elogia, cap. 87. 

In 1494, the date of the expulsion of the Medici, Machiavelli wasadmitted to the Chancery of the Commune as a clerk; and in 1498 he wasappointed to the post of chancellor and secretary to the _Dieci dilibertà e pace_. This place he held for the better half of fifteenyears, that is to say, during the whole period of Florentine freedom. His diplomatic missions undertaken at the instance of the Republic werevery numerous. Omitting those of less importance, we find him at thecamp of Cesare Borgia in 1502, in France in 1504, with Julius II. In1506, with the Emperor Maximilian in 1507, and again at the French Courtin 1510. [1] To this department of his public life belong the dispatchesand Relazioni which he sent home to the Signory of Florence, hisMonograph upon the Massacre of Sinigaglia, his treatises upon the methodof dealing with Pisa, Pistoja, and Valdichiana, and those two remarkablestudies of foreign nations which are entitled _Ritratti delle Cose dell'Alemagna_ and _Ritratti delle Cose di Francia_. It was also in the year1500 that he laid the first foundations of his improved military system. The political sagacity and the patriotism for which Machiavelli has beenadmired are nowhere more conspicuous than in the discernment whichsuggested this measure, and in the indefatigable zeal with which hestrove to carry it into effect. Pondering upon the causes of Italianweakness when confronted with nations like the French, and comparingcontemporary with ancient history, Machiavelli came to the conclusionthat the universal employment of mercenary troops was the chief secretof the insecurity of Italy. He therefore conceived a plan forestablishing a national militia, and for placing the whole malepopulation at the service of the state in times of war. He had to begincautiously in bringing this scheme before the public; for the strongholdof the mercenary system was the sloth and luxury of the burghers. Atfirst he induced the _Dieci di libertà e pace_, or war office, torequire the service of one man per house throughout the Florentinedominion; but at the same time he caused a census to be taken of all mencapable of bearing arms. His next step was to carry a law by which thepermanent militia of the state was fixed at 10, 000. Then in 1503, havingprepared the way by these preliminary measures, he addressed the Councilof the Burghers in a set oration, unfolding the principles of hisproposed reform, and appealing not only to their patriotism but also totheir sense of self-preservation. It was his aim to prove that mercenaryarms must be exchanged for a national militia, if freedom andindependence were to be maintained. The Florentines allowed themselvesto be convinced, and, on the recommendation of Machiavelli, they votedin 1506 a new magistracy, called the _Nove dell' Ordinanza e Milizia_, for the formation of companies, the discipline of soldiers, and themaintenance of the militia in a state of readiness for activeservice. [2] Machiavelli became the secretary of this board; and much ofhis time was spent thenceforth in the levying of troops and thepractical development of his system. It requires an intimate familiaritywith the Italian military system of the fourteenth and fifteenthcenturies to understand the importance of this reform. We are soaccustomed to the systems of Militia, Conscription, and Landwehr, bymeans of which military service has been nationalized among the modernraces, that we need to tax our imagination before we can place ourselvesat the point of view of men to whom Machiavelli's measure was a noveltyof genius. [3]

 [1] Machiavelli never bore the title of Ambassador on these missions. He went as Secretary. His pay was miserable. We find him receiving one ducat a day for maintenance. 

 [2] Documents relating to the institution of the _Nove dell' Ordinanza e Milizia_, and to its operations between December 6, 1506, and August 6, 1512, from the pen of Machiavelli, will be found printed by Signor Canestrini in _Arch. Stor. _ vol. Xv. Pp. 377 to 453. Machiavelli's treatise _De re militari_, or _I libri sull' arte della guerra_, was the work of his later life; it was published in 1521 at Florence. 

 [3] Though Machiavelli deserves the credit of this military system, the part of Antonio Giacomini in carrying it into effect must not be forgotten. Pitti, in his 'Life of Giacomini' (_Arch. Stor. _ vol. Iv. Pt. Ii. P. 241), says: 'Avendo per dieci anni continovi fatto prova nelle fazioni e nelle battaglie de' fanti del dominio e delli esterni, aveva troppo bene conosciuto con quanta più sicurezza si potesse la repubblica servire de' suoi propri che delli istranieri. ' Machiavelli had gone as Commissary to the camp of Giacomini before Pisa in August 1505; there the man of action and the man of theory came to an agreement: both found in the Gonfalonier Soderini a chief of the republic capable of entering into their views. 

It must be admitted that the new militia proved ineffectual in the hourof need. To revive the martial spirit of a nation, enervated by tyrannyand given over to commerce, merely by a stroke of genius, was beyond theforce of even Machiavelli. When Prato had been sacked in 1512, theFlorentines, destitute of troops, divided among themselves and headedby the excellent but hesitating Piero Soderini, threw their gates opento the Medici. Giuliano, the brother of Pope Leo, and Lorenzo, hisnephew, whose statues sit throned in the immortality of Michael Angelo'smarble upon their tombs in San Lorenzo, disposed of the republic attheir pleasure. Machiavelli, as War Secretary of the anti-Mediceangovernment, was of course disgraced and deprived of his appointments. In1513 he was suspected of complicity in the conjuration of PietropaoloBoscoli and Agostino Capponi, was imprisoned in the Bargello, andtortured to the extent of four turns of the rack. It seems that he wasinnocent. Leo X. Released him by the act of amnesty passed upon theevent of his assuming the tiara; and Machiavelli immediately retired tohis farm near San Casciano. 

Since we are now approaching the most critical passage of Machiavelli'sbiography, it may be well to draw from his private letters a picture ofthe life to which this statesman of the restless brain was condemned inthe solitude of the country. [1] Writing on December 10 to his friendFrancesco Vettori, he says, 'I am at my farm; and, since my lastmisfortunes, have not been in Florence twenty days. I rise with the sun, and go into a wood of mine that is being cut, where I remain two hoursinspecting the work of the previous day and conversing with thewoodcutters, who have always some trouble on hand among themselves orwith their neighbors. When I leave the wood, I proceed to a well, andthence to the place which I use for snaring birds, with a book under myarm--Dante, or Petrarch, or one of the minor poets, like Tibullus orOvid. I read the story of their passions, and let their loves remind meof my own, which is a pleasant pastime for a while. Next I take theroad, enter the inn door, talk with the passers-by, inquire the news ofthe neighborhood, listen to a variety of matters, and make note of thedifferent tastes and humors of men. This brings me to dinner-time, whenI join my family and eat the poor produce of my farm. After dinner I goback to the inn, where I generally find the host and a butcher, amiller, and a pair of bakers. With these companions I play the fool allday at cards or backgammon: a thousand squabbles, a thousand insults andabusive dialogues take place, while we haggle over a farthing, and shoutloud enough to be heard from San Casciano. But when evening falls I gohome and enter my writing-room. On the threshold I put off my countryhabit, filthy with mud and mire, and array myself in royal courtlygarments; thus worthily attired, I make my entrance into the ancientcourts of the men of old, where they receive me with love, and where Ifeed upon that food which only is my own and for which I was born. Ifeel no shame in conversing with them and asking them the reason oftheir actions. They, moved by their humanity, make answer; for fourhours' space I feel no annoyance, forget all care; poverty cannotfrighten, nor death appall me. I am carried away to their society. Andsince Dante says "that there is no science unless we retain what we havelearned, " I have set down what I have gained from their discourse, andcomposed a treatise, _De Principatibus_, in which I enter as deeply as Ican into the science of the subject, with reasonings on the nature ofprincipality, its several species, and how they are acquired, howmaintained, how lost. If you ever liked any of my scribblings, thisought to suit your taste. To a prince, and especially to a new prince, it ought to prove acceptable. Therefore I am dedicating it to theMagnificence of Giuliano. '

 [1] This letter may be compared with others of about the same date. In one (Aug. 3, 1514) he says: 'Ho lasciato dunque i pensieri delle cose grandi e gravi, non mi diletta più leggere le cose antiche, nè ragionare delle moderne; tutte si son converse in ragionamenti dolci, ' etc. Again he writes (Dec. 4, 1514): 'Quod autem ad me pertinet, si quid agam scire cupis, omnem meae vitae rationem ab eodem Tafano intelliges, quam sordidam ingloriamque, non sine indignatione, si me ut soles amas, cognosces. ' Later on, we may notice the same language. Thus (Feb. 5, 1515), 'Sono diventato inutile a me, a' parenti ed agli amici, ' and (June 8, 1517) 'Essendomi io ridotto a stare in villa per le avversità che io ho avuto ed ho, sto qualche volta un mese che non mi ricordo di me. '

Further on in the same letter he writes: 'I have talked with FilippoCasavecchia about this little work of mine, whether I ought to presentit or not; and if so, whether I ought to send or take it myself to him. I was induced to doubt about presenting it at all by the fear lestGiuliano should not even read it, and that this Ardinghelli shouldprofit by my latest labors. On the other hand, I am prompted to presentit by the necessity which pursues me, seeing that I am consuming myselfin idleness, and I cannot continue long in this way without becomingcontemptible through poverty. I wish these Signori Medici would begin tomake some use of me, if it were only to set me to the work of rolling astone. [1] If I did not win them over to me afterwards, I should onlycomplain of myself. As for my book, if they read it, they would perceivethat the fifteen years I have spent in studying statecraft have not beenwasted in sleep or play; and everybody ought to be glad to make use of aman who has so filled himself with experience at the expense of others. About my fidelity they ought not to doubt. Having always kept faith, Iam not going to learn to break it now. A man who has been loyal and goodfor forty-three years, like me, is not likely to change his nature; andof my loyalty and goodness my poverty is sufficient witness to them. '

 [1] Compare the letter, dated June 10, 1514, to Fr. Vettori: 'Starommi dunque così tra i miei cenci, senza trovare uomo che della mia servitù si ricordi, o che creda che io possa esser buono a nulla. Ma egli è impossibile che io possa star molto così, perchè io mi logoro, ' etc. Again, Dec. 20, 1514: 'E se la fortuna avesse voluto che i Medici, o in cosa di Firenze o di fuora, o in cose loro particolari o in pubbliche, mi avessino una volta comandato, io sarei contento. '

This letter, invaluable to the student of Machiavelli's works, isprejudicial to his reputation. It was written only ten months after hehad been imprisoned and tortured by the Medici, just thirteen monthsafter the republic he had served so long had been enslaved by theprinces before whom he was now cringing. It is true that Machiavelli wasnot wealthy; his habits of prodigality made his fortune insufficient forhis needs. [1] It is true that he could ill bear the enforced idleness ofcountry life, after being engaged for fifteen years in the mostimportant concerns of the Florentine Republic. But neither his poverty, which, after all, was but comparative, nor his inactivity, for which hefound relief in study, justifies the tone of the conclusion to thisletter. When we read it, we cannot help remembering the language ofanother exile, who while he tells us--

 Come sa di sale Lo pane altrui, e com' è duro calle Lo scendere e 'l salir per l' altrui scale

--can yet refuse the advances of his factious city thus: 'If Florencecannot be entered honorably, I will never set foot within her walls. Andwhat? Shall I not be able from any angle whatsoever of the earth to gazeupon the sun and stars? shall I not beneath whatever region of theheavens have power to meditate the sweetest truths, unless I make myselfignoble first, nay ignominious, in the face of Florence and her people?Nor will bread, I warrant, fail me!' If Machiavelli, who in this veryletter to Vettori quoted Dante, had remembered these words, they oughtto have fallen like drops of molten lead upon his soul. But such was thedebasement of the century that probably he would have only shrugged hisshoulders and sighed, 'Tempora mutantur, nos et mutamur in illis. '

 [1] See familiar letter, June 10, 1514. 

In some respects Dante, Machiavelli, and Michael Angelo Buonarroti maybe said to have been the three greatest intellects produced by Florence. Dante in exile and in opposition, would hold no sort of traffic with hercitizens. Michael Angelo, after the siege, worked at the Medici tombsfor Pope Clement, as a makepeace offering for the fortification ofSamminiato; while Machiavelli entreats to be put _to roll a stone bythese Signori Medici_, if only he may so escape from poverty anddullness. Michael Angelo, we must remember, owed a debt of gratitude asan artist to the Medici for his education in the gardens of Lorenzo. Moreover, the quatrain which he wrote for his statue of the Nightjustifies us in regarding that chapel as the cenotaph designed by himfor murdered Liberty. Machiavelli owed nothing to the Medici, who haddisgraced and tortured him, and whom he had opposed in all his publicaction during fifteen years. Yet what was the gift with which he camebefore them as a suppliant, crawling to the footstool of their throne? Atreatise _De Principatibus_; in other words, the celebrated _Principe_;which, misread it as Machiavelli's apologists may choose to do, orexplain it as the rational historian is bound to do, yet carries venomin its pages. Remembering the circumstances under which it was composed, we are in a condition to estimate the proud humility and prostrate prideof the dedication. 'Niccolo Machiavelli to the Magnificent Lorenzo, sonof Piero de' Medici:' so runs the title. 'Desiring to present myself toyour Magnificence with some proof of my devotion, I have not foundamong my various furniture aught that I prize more than the knowledge ofthe actions of great men acquired by me through a long experience ofmodern affairs and a continual study of ancient. These I have long anddiligently revolved and examined in my mind, and have now compressedinto a little book which I send to your Magnificence. And though I judgethis work unworthy of your presence, yet I am confident that yourhumanity will cause you to value it when you consider that I could notmake you a greater gift than this of enabling you in a few hours tounderstand what I have learned through perils and discomforts in alengthy course of years. ' 'If your Magnificence will deign, from thesummit of your height, some time to turn your eyes to my low place, youwill know how unjustly I am forced to endure the great and continuedmalice of fortune. ' The work so dedicated was sent in MS. For theMagnificent's private perusal. It was not published until 1532, by orderof Clement VII. , after the death of Machiavelli. 

I intend to reserve the _Principe_, considered as the supreme expressionof Italian political science, for a separate study; and after theintroduction to Macaulay's Essay on Machiavelli, I need hardly enter indetail into a discussion of the various theories respecting theintention of this treatise. [1] Yet this is the proper place forexplaining my view about Machiavelli's writings in relation to hisbiography, and for attempting to connect them into such unity as a mindso strictly logical as his may have designed. 

 [1] Macaulay's essay is, of course, brilliant and comprehensive. I do not agree with his theory of the Italian despot, as I have explained on p. 127 of this volume. Sometimes, too, he indulges in rhetoric that is merely sentimental, as when he says about the dedication of the Florentine History to Clement: 'The miseries and humiliations of dependence, the bread which is more bitter than every other food, the stairs which are more painful than every other ascent, had not broken the spirit of Machiavelli. _The most corrupting post in a corrupting profession had not depraved the generous heart of Clement. _' The sentence I have printed in italics may perhaps tell the truth about the Church and Popes in general; but the panegyric of Clement is preposterous. Macaulay must have been laughing in his sleeve. 

With regard to the circumstances under which the Prince was composed, enough has been already said. Machiavelli's selfish purpose in puttingit forth seems to my mind apparent. He wanted employment: he despairedof the republic: he strove to furnish the princes in power with aconvincing proof of his capacity for great affairs. Yet it must not onthis account be concluded that the _Principe_ was merely a cheap bid foroffice. On the contrary, it contained the most mature and the mostsplendid of Machiavelli's thoughts, accumulated through his long yearsof public service; and, strange as it may seem, it embodied the dream ofa philosophical patriot for the restitution of liberty to Italy. Florence, indeed, was lost. 'These Signori Medici' were in power. Butcould not even they be employed to purge the sacred soil of Italy fromthe Barbarians?

If we can pretend to sound the depths of Machiavelli's mind at thisdistance of time, we may conjecture that he had come to believe thefree cities too corrupt for independence. The only chance Italy had ofholding her own against the great powers of Europe was by union under aprince. At the same time the Utopia of this union, with which he closesthe _Principe_, could only be realized by such a combination as wouldeither neutralize the power of the Church, or else gain the Pope for anally by motives of interest. Now at the period of the dedication of the_Principe_ to Lorenzo de' Medici, Leo X. Was striving to found aprincipality in the states of the Church. [1] In 1516 he created hisnephew Duke of Urbino, and it was thought that this was but a prelude tostill further greatness. Florence in combination with Rome might do muchfor Italy. Leo meanwhile was still young, and his participation in themost ambitious schemes was to be expected. Thus the moment waspropitious for suggesting to Lorenzo that he should put himself at thehead of an Italian kingdom, which, by its union beneath the strong willof a single prince, might suffice to cope with nations more potent innumbers and in arms. [2] The _Principe_ was therefore dedicated in goodfaith to the Medici, and the note on which it closes was not false. Machiavelli hoped that what Cesare Borgia had but just failed inaccomplishing, Lorenzo de' Medici, with the assistance of a younger Popethan Alexander, a firmer basis to his princedom in Florence, and a graspupon the states of the Church made sure by the policy of Julius II. , might effect. Whether so good a judge of character as Machiavelliexpected really much from Lorenzo may be doubted. 

 [1] We are, however, bound to remember that Leo was only made Pope in March 1513, and that the _Principe_ was nearly finished in the following December. Machiavelli cannot therefore be credited with knowing as well as we do now to what length the ambition of the Medici was about to run when he composed his work. He wrote in the hope that it might induce them to employ him. 

 [2] The two long letters to Fr. Vettori (Aug. 26, 1513) and to Piero Soderini (no date) should be studied side by side with the _Principe_ for the light they throw on Machiavelli's opinions there expressed. 

These circumstances make the morality of the book the more remarkable. To teach political science denuded of commonplace hypocrisies was aworthy object. But while seeking to lay bare the springs of action, andto separate statecraft from morals, Machiavelli found himself impelledto recognize a system of inverted ethics. The abrupt division of the tworealms, ethical and political, which he attempted, was monstrous; and heended by substituting inhumanity for human nature. Unable to escape thelogic which links morality of some sort with conduct, he gave hisadhesion to the false code of contemporary practice. He believed thatthe right way to attain a result so splendid as the liberation of Italywas to proceed by force, craft, bad faith, and all the petty arts of apolitical adventurer. The public ethics of his day had sunk to this lowlevel. Success by means of plain dealing was impossible. The game ofstatecraft could only be carried on by guile and violence. Even theclear genius of Machiavelli had been obscured by the muddy medium ofintrigue in which he had been working all his life. Even his keeninsight was dazzled by the false splendor of the adventurer CesareBorgia. 

To have formulated the ethics of the _Principe_ is not diabolical. Thereis no inventive superfluity of naughtiness in the treatise. It is simplya handbook of princecraft, as that art was commonly received in Italy, where the principles of public morality had been translated into termsof material aggrandizement, glory, gain, and greatness. No one thoughtof judging men by their motives but by their practice; they were notregarded as moral but as political beings, responsible, that is to say, to no law but the obligation of success. Crimes which we regard ashorrible were then commended as magnanimous, if it could be shown thatthey were prompted by a firm will and had for their object a deliberateend. Machiavelli and Paolo Giovio, for example, both praise the massacreat Sinigaglia as a masterstroke of art, without uttering a word incondemnation of its perfidy. Machiavelli sneers at Gianpaolo Baglionibecause he had not the courage to strangle his guest Julius II. And tocrown his other crimes with this signal act of magnanimity. What virtuehad come to mean in the Italian language we have seen already. The onequality which every one despised was simplicity, however this might becombined with lofty genius and noble aims. It was because Soderini wassimple and had a good heart that Machiavelli wrote the famous epigram--

 La notte che morì Pier Soderini L' alma n' andò dell' inferno alla bocca; E Pluto le gridò: Anima sciocca, Che inferno? va nel limbo de' bambini. 

 The night that Peter Soderini died, His soul flew down unto the mouth of hell: 'What? Hell for you? You silly spirit!' cried The fiend: 'your place is where the babies dwell. '

As of old in Corcyra, so now in Italy, 'guilelessness, which is theprincipal ingredient of genuine nobleness, was laughed down, anddisappeared. '[1] What men feared was not the moral verdict of society, pronouncing them degraded by vicious or violent acts, but theintellectual estimate of incapacity and the stigma of dullness. Theywere afraid of being reckoned among feebler personalities; and to escapefrom this contempt, by the commission even of atrocities, had come to beaccounted manly. The truth, missed almost universally, was that thesupreme wisdom, the paramount virility, is law-abiding honesty, thedoing of right because right is right, in scorn of consequence. Nothingappears more clearly in the memoirs of Cellini than this point, whilethe Italian novels are full of matter bearing on the same topic. It istherefore ridiculous to assume that an Italian judged of men or conductin any sense according to our standards. Pinturicchio and Peruginothought it no shame to work for princes like the Baglioni and for Popeslike Alexander VI. Lionardo da Vinci placed his talents as an engineerat the service of Cesare Borgia, and employed his genius as a musicianand a painter for the amusement of the Milanese Court, which must havebeen, according to Corio's account, flagrantly and shamelessly corrupt. Leo Battista Alberti, one of the most charming and the gentlest spiritsof the earlier Renaissance, in like manner lent his architecturalability to the vanity of the iniquitous Sigismondo Malatesta. No: the_Principe_ was not inconsistent with the general tone of Italianmorality; and Machiavelli cannot be fairly taxed with the discovery of anew infernal method. The conception of politics as a bare art of meansto ends had grown up in his mind by the study of Italian history andsocial customs. His idealization of Cesare Borgia and his romance ofCastruccio were the first products of the theory he had formed byobservation of the world he lived in. The _Principe_ revealed it fullyorganized. But to have presented such an essay in good faith to thedespots of his native city, at that particular moment in his own career, and under the pressure of trivial distress, is a real blot upon hismemory. 

 [1] Thuc. Iii. 83. The whole of the passage about Corcyra in the third book of Thucydides (chs. 82 and 83) applies literally to the moral condition of Italy at this period. 

We learn from Varchi that Machiavelli was execrated in Florence for his_Principe_, the poor thinking it would teach the Medici to take awaytheir honor, the rich regarding it as an attack upon their wealth, andboth discerning in it a death-blow to freedom. [1] Machiavelli canscarcely have calculated upon this evil opinion, which followed him tothe grave: for though he showed some hesitation in his letter to Vettoriabout the propriety of presenting the essay to the Medici, this was onlygrounded on the fear lest a rival should get the credit of his labors. Again, he uttered no syllable about its being intended for a trap tocatch the Medici, and commit them to unpardonable crimes. We maytherefore conclude that this explanation of the purpose of the_Principe_ (which, strange to say, has approved itself to even recentcritics) was promulgated either by himself or by his friends, as anafter-thought, when he saw that the work had missed its mark, and at thetime when he was trying to suppress the MS. [2] Bernardo Giunti in thededication of the edition of 1532, and Reginald Pole in 1535, were, Ibelieve, the first to put forth this fanciful theory in print. Machiavelli could not before 1520 have boasted of the patriotictreachery with which he was afterwards accredited, so far, at any rate, as to lose the confidence of the Medicean family; for in that year theCardinal Giulio de' Medici commissioned him to write the history ofFlorence. 

 [1] _Storia Fior. _ lib. Iv. Cap. 15. 

 [2] See Varchi, loc. Cit. The letter written by Machiavelli to Fr. Guicciardini from Carpi, May 17, 1521, should be studied in this connection. It is unfortunately too mutilated to be wholly intelligible. After explaining his desire to be of use to Florence, but not after the manner most approved of by the Florentines themselves, he says: 'io credo che questo sarebbe il vero modo di andare in Paradiso, imparare la via dell' Inferno per fuggirla. '

The _Principe_, after its dedication to Lorenzo, remained in MS. , andMachiavelli was not employed in spite of the continual solicitations ofhis friend Vettori. [1] Nothing remained for him but to seek otherpatrons, and to employ his leisure in new literary work. Between 1516and 1519, therefore, we find him taking part in the literary andphilosophical discussions of the Florentine Academy, which assembled atthat period in the Rucellai Gardens. [2] It was here that he read hisDiscourses on the First Decade of Livy--a series of profound essays uponthe administration of the state, to which the sentences of the Romanhistorian serve as texts. Having set forth in the _Principe_ the methodof gaining or maintaining sovereign power, he shows in the _Discorsi_what institutions are necessary to preserve the body politic in acondition of vigorous activity. We may therefore regard the _Discorsi_as in some sense a continuation of the _Principe_. But the wisdom of thescientific politician is no longer placed at the disposal of asovereign. He addresses himself to all the members of a state who areconcerned in its prosperity. Machiavelli's enemies have therefore beenable to insinuate that, after teaching tyranny in one pamphlet, heexpounded the principles of opposition to a tyrant in the other, shifting his sails as the wind veered. [3] The truth here also lies inthe critical and scientific quality of Machiavelli's method. He wascontent to lecture either to princes or to burghers upon politics, as anart which he had taken great pains to study, while his interest in thedemonstration of principles rendered him in a measure indifferent totheir application. [4] In fact, to use the pithy words of Macaulay, 'thePrince traces the progress of an ambitious man, the Discourses theprogress of an ambitious people. The same principles on which, in theformer work, the elevation of an individual is explained, are applied inthe latter to the longer duration and more complex interest of asociety. '

 [1] The political letters addressed to Francesco Vettori, at Rome, and intended probably for the eye of Leo X. , were written in 1514. The discourse addressed to Leo, _sulla riforma dello stato di Firenze_, may be referred perhaps to 1519. 

 [2] Of these meetings Filippo de' Nerli writes in the Seventh Book of his Commentaries, p. 138: 'Avendo convenuto assai tempo nell' orto de' Rucellai una certa scuola di giovani letterati e d' elevato ingegno, infra quali praticava continuamente Niccolò Machiavelli (ed io ero di Niccolò e di tutti loro amicissimo, e molto spesso con loro convirsavo), s' esercitavano costoro assai, mediante le lettere, nelle lezioni dell' istorie, e sopra di esse, ed a loro istanza compose il Machiavello quel suo libro de' discorsi sopra Tito Livio, e anco il libro di que' trattati e ragionamenti sopra la milizia. '

 [3] See Pitti, 'Apologia de' Cappucci, ' _Arch. Stor. _ vol. Iv. Pt. Ii. P. 294. 

 [4] The dedication of the _Discorsi_ contains a phrase which recalls Machiavelli's words about the _Principe_: 'Perche in quello io ho espresso quanto io so, e quanto io ho imparato per una lunga pratica e continua lezione delle cose del mondo. '

The Seven Books on the Art of War may be referred with certainty to thesame period of Machiavelli's life. They were probably composed in 1520. If we may venture to connect the works of the historian's leisure, according to the plan above suggested, this treatise forms a supplementto the _Principe_ and the _Discorsi_. Both in his analysis of thesuccessful tyrant and in his description of the powerful commonwealth hehad insisted on the prime necessity of warfare, conducted by the peopleand their rulers in person. The military organization of a great kingdomis here developed in a separate Essay, and Machiavelli's favorite schemefor nationalizing the militia of Italy is systematically expounded. Giovio's flippant objection, that the philosopher could not in practicemaneuver a single company, is no real criticism on the merit of histheory. 

By this time the Medici had determined to take Machiavelli into favor;and since he had expressed a wish to be set at least to rolling stones, they found for him a trivial piece of work. The Franciscans at Carpi hadto be requested to organize a separate Province of their Order in theFlorentine dominion; and the conduct of this weighty matter wasintrusted to the former secretary at the Courts of Maximilian and Louis. Several other missions during the last years of his life devolved uponMachiavelli; but none of them were of much importance: nor, when thepopular government was instituted in 1527, had he so far regained theconfidence of the Florentines as to resume his old office of warsecretary. This post, considering his recent alliance with the Mediceanparty, he could hardly have expected to receive; and therefore it isimprobable that the news of Gianotti's election at all contributed tocause his death. [1] Disappointment he may indeed have felt: for hismoral force had been squandered during fifteen years in the attempt togain the favor of princes who were now once more regarded as the enemiesof their country. When the republic was at last restored, he foundhimself in neither camp. The overtures which he had made to the Medicihad been but coldly received; yet they were sufficiently notorious tobring upon him the suspicion of the patriots. He had not sincerely actedup to the precept of Polonius: 'This above all, --to thine own self betrue. ' His intellectual ability, untempered by sufficient politicalconsistency or moral elevation, had placed him among the outcasts:--

 che non furon ribelli, Nè fur fedeli a Dio, ma per sè foro. 

The great achievement of these years was the composition of the _IstorieFiorentine_. The commission for this work he received from Giulio de'Medici through the Officiali dello Studio in 1520, with an annualallowance of 100 florins. In 1527, the year of his death, he dedicatedthe finished History to Pope Clement VII. This masterpiece of literaryart, though it may be open to the charges of inaccuracy andsuperficiality, [2] marks an epoch in the development of modernhistoriography. It must be remembered that it preceded the great work ofGuicciardini by some years, and that before the date of its appearancethe annalists of Italy had been content with records of events, personalimpressions, and critiques of particular periods. Machiavelli was thefirst to contemplate the life of a nation in its continuity, to tracethe operation of political forces through successive generations, tocontrast the action of individuals with the evolution of causes overwhich they had but little control, and to bring the salient features ofthe national biography into relief by the suppression of comparativelyunimportant details. By thus applying the philosophical method tohistory, Machiavelli enriched the science of humanity with a newdepartment. There is something in his view of national existence beyondthe reach of even the profoundest of the classical historians. His styleis adequate to the matter of his work. Never were clear and definitethoughts expressed with greater precision in language of more masculinevigor. We are irresistibly compelled, while characterizing this style, to think of the spare sinews of a trained gladiator. Though Machiavelliwas a poet, he indulges in no ornaments of rhetoric. [3] His images, rareand carefully chosen, seem necessary to the thoughts they illustrate. Though a philosopher, he never wanders into speculation. Facts andexperience are so thoroughly compacted with reflection in his mind, thathis widest generalizations have the substance of realities. The elementof unreality, if such there be, is due to a misconception of humannature. Machiavelli seems to have only studied men in masses, or aspolitical instruments, never as feeling and thinking personalities. 

 [1] See Varchi, loc. Cit. 

 [2] See the criticisms of Ammirato and Romagnosi, quoted by Cantù, _Letteratura Italiana_, p. 187. 

 [3] I shall have to speak elsewhere of Machiavelli's comedies, occasional poems, novel of 'Belphegor, ' etc. 

Machiavelli, according to the letter addressed by his son Pietro toFrancesco Nelli, died of a dose of medicine taken at the wrong time. Hewas attended on his deathbed by a friar, who received his confession. His private morality was but indifferent. His contempt for weakness andsimplicity was undisguised. His knowledge of the world and men hadturned to cynicism. The frigid philosophy expressed in his politicalEssays, and the sarcastic speeches in which he gave a vent to his souredhumors, made him unpopular. It was supposed that he had died withblasphemy upon his lips, after turning all the sanctities of humannature into ridicule. Through these myths, as through a mist, we maydiscern the bitterness of that great, disenchanted, disappointed soul. The desert in which spirits of the stamp of Machiavelli wander is tooarid and too aerial for the gross substantial bugbears of the vulgarconscience to inhabit. Moreover, as Varchi says, 'In his conversationMachiavelli was pleasant, serviceable to his friends, a friend ofvirtuous men, and, in a word, worthy of having received from natureeither less genius or a better mind. '

CHAPTER VI. 

'THE PRINCE' OF MACHIAVELLI. 

The Sincerity of Machiavelli in this Essay--Machiavellism--Hisdeliberate Formulation of a cynical political Theory--Analysis of thePrince--Nine Conditions of Principalities--The Interest of the Conqueroracknowledged as the sole Motive of his Policy--Critique of LouisXII. --Feudal Monarchy and Oriental Despotism--Three Ways of subduing afree City--Example of Pisa--Principalities founded byAdventurers--Moses, Romulus, Cyrus, Theseus--Savonarola--FrancescoSforza--Cesare Borgia--Machiavelli's personal Relation tohim--Machiavelli's Admiration of Cesare's Genius--A Sketch of Cesare'sCareer--Concerning those who have attained to Sovereignty byCrimes--Oliverotto da Fermo--The Uses of Cruelty--Messer Ramiro d'Orco--The pessimistic Morality of Machiavelli--On the Faith ofPrinces--Alexander VI. --The Policy of seeming virtuous andhonest--Absence of chivalrous Feeling in Italy--The Military System of apowerful Prince--Criticism of Mercenaries and Auxiliaries--Necessity ofNational Militia--The Art of War--Patriotic Conclusion of theTreatise--Machiavelli and Savonarola. 

After what has been already said about the circumstances under whichMachiavelli composed the _Principe_, we are justified in regarding it asa sincere expression of his political philosophy. The intellect of itsauthor was eminently analytical and positive; he knew well how toconfine himself within the strictest limits of the subject he hadchosen. In the _Principe_ it was not his purpose to write a treatise ofmorality, but to set forth with scientific accuracy the arts which heconsidered necessary to the success of an absolute ruler. We maytherefore accept this essay as the most profound and lucid exposition ofthe principles by which Italian statesmen were guided in the sixteenthcentury. That Machiavellism existed before Machiavelli has now become atruism. Gian Galeazzo Visconti, Louis XI. Of France, Ferdinand theCatholic, the Papal Curia, and the Venetian Council had systematicallypursued the policy laid down in the chapters of the _Prince_. But it isno less true that Machiavelli was the first in modern times to formulatea theory of government in which the interests of the ruler are aloneregarded, which assumes a separation between statecraft and morality, which recognizes force and fraud among the legitimate means of attaininghigh political ends, which makes success alone the test of conduct, andwhich presupposes the corruption, venality, and baseness of mankind atlarge. It was this which aroused the animosity of Europe againstMachiavelli, as soon as the Prince attained wide circulation. Nationsaccustomed to the Monarchical rather than the Despotic form ofgovernment resented the systematic exposition of an art of tyranny whichhad long been practiced among the Italians. The people of the North, whose moral fiber was still vigorous, and who retained their respect forestablished religion, could not tolerate the cynicism with whichMachiavelli analyzed his subject from the merely intellectual point ofview. His name became a byword. 'Am I Machiavel?' says the host in the_Merry Wives of Windsor_. Marlowe makes the ghost of the greatFlorentine speak prologue to the _Jew of Malta_ thus--

 I count religion but a childish toy, And hold there is no sin but ignorance. 

When the Counter-reformation had begun in Italy, and desperate effortswere being made to check the speculative freedom of the Renaissance, the_Principe_ was condemned by the Inquisition. Meanwhile it was whisperedthat the Spanish princes, and the sons of Catherine de' Medici upon thethrone of France, conned its pages just as a manual of toxicology mightbe studied by a Marquise de Brinvilliers. Machiavelli became thescapegoat of great political crimes; and during the religious wars ofthe sixteenth century there were not wanting fanatics who ascribed suchacts of atrocity as the Massacre of S. Bartholomew to his venomousinfluence. Yet this book was really nothing more or less than a criticalcompendium of facts respecting Italy, a highly condensed abstract ofpolitical experience. In it as in a mirror we may study the lineamentsof the Italian despot who by adventure or by heritage succeeded to theconduct of a kingdom. At the same time the political principles hereestablished are those which guided the deliberations of the VenetianCouncil and the Papal Court, no less than the actions of a Sforza or aBorgia upon the path to power. It is therefore a document of the veryhighest value for the illustration of the Italian conscience in relationto political morality. 

The _Principe_ opens with the statement that all forms of government maybe classified as republics or as principalities. Of the latter some arehereditary, others acquired. Of the principalities acquired in thelifetime of the ruler some are wholly new, like Milan under FrancescoSforza; others are added of hereditary kingdoms, like Naples to Spain. Again, such acquired states have been previously accustomed either tothe rule of a single man or to self-government. Finally they are woneither with the conqueror's own or with borrowed armies, either byfortune or by ability. [1] Thus nine conditions under whichprincipalities may be considered are established at the outset. 

 [1] The word Virtù, which I have translated ability, is almost equivalent to the Greek [Greek: _aretê_], before it had received a moral definition, or to the Roman Virtus. It is very far, as will be gathered from the sequel of the _Principe_, from denoting what we mean by Virtue. 

The short chapter devoted by Machiavelli to hereditary principalitiesmay be passed over as comparatively unimportant. It is characteristic ofItalian politics that the only instance he adduces of this form ofgovernment in Italy is the Duchy of Ferrara. States and cities were sofrequently shifting owners in the sixteenth century that the scientificpolitician was justified in confining his attention to the method ofestablishing and preserving principalities acquired by force. When hepasses to the consideration of this class, Machiavelli enters upon thereal subject of his essay. The first instance he discusses is that of aprince who has conquered a dominion which he wishes to unite as firmlyas possible to his hereditary states. The new territory may eitherbelong to the same nationality and language as the old possession, ormay not. In the former case it will be enough to extinguish the wholeline of the ancient rulers, and to take care that neither the laws northe imposts of the province be materially altered. It will then incourse of time become by natural coalition part of the old kingdom. Butif the acquired dominion be separate in language, customs, andtraditions from the old, then arises a real difficulty for theconqueror. In order to consolidate his empire and to accustom his newsubjects to his rule, Machiavelli recommends that he should either takeup his residence in the subjugated province, or else plant coloniesthroughout it, but that he should by no means trust merely to garrisons. 'Colonies, ' he remarks, 'are not costly to the prince, are morefaithful, and cause less offense to the subject states; those whom theymay injure, being poor and scattered, are prevented from doing mischief. For it should be observed that men ought either to be caressed ortrampled out, seeing that small injuries may be avenged, whereas greatones destroy the possibility of retaliation; and so the damage that hasto be inflicted ought to be such that it need involve no fear ofvengeance. ' I quote this passage as a specimen of Machiavelli's directand scientific handling of the most inhuman necessities of statecraft, as conceived by him. [1] He uses no hypocritical palliation to disguisethe egotism of the conqueror. He does not even pretend to take intoconsideration any interests but those of the ambitious prince. He treatshumanity as though it were the marble out of which the political artistshould hew the form that pleased his fancy best. He calculates the exactamount of oppression which will render a nation incapable of resistance, and relieve the conqueror of trouble in his work of building up apuissant kingdom for his own aggrandizement. 

 [1] It is fair to call attention to the strong expressions used by Machiavelli in the _Discorsi_, lib. I. Cap. 18 and cap. 26, on the infamies and inhumanities to which the aspirant after tyranny is condemned. 

What Machiavelli says about mixed principalities is pointed by asearching critique of the Italian policy of Louis XII. The French kinghad well-known claims upon the Duchy of Milan, which the Venetians urgedhim to make good. They proposed to unite forces and to divide theconquered province of Lombardy. Machiavelli does not blame Louis foraccepting this offer and acting in concert with the Republic. Hismistakes began the moment after he had gained possession of Milan, Genoa, and the majority of the North Italian cities. It was then histrue policy to balance Venice against Rome, to assume the protectorateof the minor states, and to keep all dangerous rivals out of Italy. Instead of acting thus, he put Romagna into the hands of the Pope anddivided Naples with the King of Spain. 'Louis indeed, ' concludesMachiavelli, 'was guilty of five capital errors: he destroyed the hopesof his numerous and weak allies; he increased the power, already toogreat, of the Papacy; he introduced a foreign potentate; he neglected toreside in Italy; he founded no colonies for the maintenance of hisauthority. If I am told that Louis acted thus imprudently towardAlexander and Ferdinand in order to avoid a war, I answer that in eachcase the mistake was as bad as any war could be in its results. If I amreminded of his promise to the Pope, I reply that princes ought to knowhow and when to break their faith, as I intend to prove. When I was atNantes, the Cardinal of Rouen told me that the Italians did not know howto conduct a war: I retorted that the French did not understandstatecraft, or they would not have allowed the Church to gain so muchpower in Italy. Experience showed that I was right; for the Frenchwrought their own ruin by aggrandizing the Papacy and introducing Spaininto the realm of Naples. '

This criticism contains the very essence of political sagacity. It laysbare the secret of the failure of the French under Charles, under Louis, and under Francis, to establish themselves in Italy. Expeditions ofparade, however brilliant, temporary conquests, cross alliances, andbloody victories do not consolidate a kingdom. They upset states andcause misery to nations: but their effects pass and leave the so-calledconquerors worse off than they were before. It was the doom of Italy tobe ravaged by these inconsequent marauders, who never attempted byinternal organization to found a substantial empire, until the mortmainof the Spanish rule was laid upon the peninsula, and Austria gained bymarriages what France had failed to win by force of arms. 

The fourth chapter of the _Principe_ is devoted to a parallel betweenMonarchies and Despotisms which is chiefly interesting as showing thatMachiavelli appreciated the stability of kingdoms based upon feudalfoundations. France is chosen as the best example of the one and Turkeyof the other. 'The whole empire of the Turk is governed by one Lord; theothers are his servants; he divides his kingdom into satrapies, to whichhe appoints different administrators, whom he changes about at pleasure. But the King of France is placed in the center of a time-honored companyof lords, acknowledged as such by their subjects and loved by them; theyhave their own prerogatives, nor can the king deprive them of thesewithout peril. ' Hence it follows that the prince who has oncedispossessed a despot finds ready to his hand a machinery of governmentand a band of subservient ministers; while he who may dethrone a monarchhas immediately to cope with a multitude of independent rulers, toonumerous to extinguish and too proud to conciliate. 

Machiavelli now proceeds to discuss the best method of subjugating freecities which have been acquired by a prince. There are three ways ofdoing it, he says. 'The first is to destroy them utterly; the second, torule them in your own person; the third, to leave them theirconstitution under the conduct of an oligarchy chosen by yourself, andto be content with tribute. But, to speak the truth, the only safe wayis to ruin them. ' This sounds very much like the advice which an oldspider might give to a young one: When you have caught a big fly, suckhim at once; suck out at any rate so much of his blood as may make himpowerless to break your web, and feed on him afterwards at leisure. Thenhe goes on to give his reasons. 'He who becomes the master of a cityused to liberty, and does not destroy it, should be prepared to beundone by it himself, because that name of Liberty, those ancient usagesof Freedom, which no length of years and no benefits can extinguish inthe nation's mind, which cannot be uprooted by any forethought or by anypains, unless the citizens themselves be broken or dispersed, willalways be a rallying-point for revolution when an opportunity occurs. 'This terrific moral--through which, let it be said in justice toMachiavelli, the enthusiasm of a patriot transpires--is pointed by theexample of Pisa. Pisa, held for a century beneath the heel ofFlorence--her ports shut up, her fields abandoned to marsh fever, hercivic life extinguished, her arts and sciences crushed out--had yet notbeen utterly ruined in the true sense of depopulation or dismemberment. Therefore when Charles VIII. In 1494 entered Pisa, and Orlandi, theorator, caught him by the royal mantle, and besought him to restore herliberty, that word, the only word the crowd could catch in his petition, inflamed a nation: the lions and lilies of Florence were erased from thepublic buildings; the Marzocco was dashed from its column on the quayinto the Arno; and in a moment the dead republic awoke to life. Therefore, argues Machiavelli, so tenacious is the vitality of a freestate that a prudent conqueror will extinguish it entirely or will ruleit in person with a rod of iron. This, be it remembered, is the adviceof Machiavelli, the the Florentine patriot, to Lorenzo de' Medici, theFlorentine tyrant, who has recently resumed his seat upon the neck ofthat irrepressible republic. 

Hitherto we have been considering how the state acquired by a conquerorshould be incorporated with his previous dominions. The next section ofMachiavelli's discourse is by far the most interesting. It treats ofprincipalities created by the arms, personal qualities, and good fortuneof adventurers. Italy alone in the sixteenth century furnished examplesof these tyrannies: consequently that portion of the _Principe_ which isconcerned with them has a special interest for students of theRenaissance. Machiavelli begins with the founders of kingdoms who haveowed but little to fortune and have depended on their own forces. Thelist he furnishes, when tested by modern notions of history, is to saythe least a curious one. It contains Moses, Cyrus, Romulus, and Theseus. Having mentioned Moses first, Machiavelli proceeds to explain that, though we have to regard him as the mere instrument of God's purpose, yet the principles on which the other founders acted were 'not differentfrom those which Moses derived from so supreme a teacher. ' What thesemen severally owed to fortune was but the occasion for the display ofthe greatness that was in them. Moses found the people of Israelenslaved in Egypt. Romulus was an exile from Alba. Cyrus had to dealwith the Persian people tired of the empire of effeminate Medes. Theseusundertook to unite the scattered elements of the Athenian nation. Thuseach of these founders had an opening provided for him, by making use ofwhich he was able to bring his illustrious qualities into play. Theachievement in each case was afterwards due solely to his own ability, and the conquest which he made with difficulty was preserved with ease. This exordium is not without practical importance, as will be seen whenwe reach the application of the whole argument to the house of Medici atthe conclusion of the treatise. The initial obstacles which an innovatorhas to overcome, meanwhile, are enormous. 'He has for passionate foesall such as flourish under the old order, for friends those who mightflourish under the new; but these are lukewarm, partly from fear oftheir opponents, on whose side are established law and right, partlyfrom the incredulity which prevents men from putting faith in what isnovel and untried. ' It therefore becomes a matter of necessity that theinnovator should be backed up with force, that he should be in aposition to command and not obliged to sue for aid. This is the reasonwhy all the prophets who have used arms to enforce their revelationshave succeeded, and why those who have only trusted to their personalascendency have failed. Moses, of course, is an illustrious example ofthe successful prophet. Savonarola is adduced as a notable instance of areformer 'who was ruined in his work of innovation as soon as themultitude lost their faith in him, since he had no means of keepingthose who had believed firm, or of compelling faith from disbelievers. 'In this critique Machiavelli remains true to his positive and scientificphilosophy of human nature. He will not allow that there are otherpermanent agencies in the world than the calculating ability of resolutemen and the might derived from physical forces. 

Among the eminent examples of Italian founders who rose to princelypower by their own ability or by availing themselves of the advantageswhich fortune put within their reach, Machiavelli selects FrancescoSforza and Cesare Borgia. The former is a notable instance of successachieved by pure _virtù_: 'Francesco, by using the right means, and byhis own singular ability, raised himself from the rank of a private manto the Duchy of Milan, and maintained with ease the mastery he hadacquired with infinite pains. ' Cesare, on the other hand, illustratesboth the strength and the weakness of _fortuna_: 'he acquired hisdominion by the aid derived from his father's position, and when he lostthat he also lost his power, notwithstanding that he used every endeavorand did all that a prudent and able man ought to do in order to planthimself firmly in those states which the arms and fortune of others hadplaced at his disposal. ' It is not necessary to dwell upon the career ofFrancesco Sforza. Not he but Cesare Borgia is Machiavelli's hero in thistreatise, the example from which he deduces lessons both of imitationand avoidance for the benefit of Lorenzo de' Medici. Lorenzo, it must beremembered, like Cesare, would have the fortunes of the Church to startwith in that career of ambition to which Machiavelli incites him. UnlikeFrancesco Sforza, he was no mere soldier of adventure, but a prince, born in the purple, and bound to make use of those undefined advantageswhich he derived from his position in Florence and from the countenanceof his uncle, the Pope. The Duke Valentino, therefore, who is at one andthe same time Machiavelli's ideal of prudence and courage in the conductof affairs, and also his chief instance of the instability of fortune, supplies the philosopher with all he needed for the guidance of hisprincely pupil. With the Duke Valentino Machiavelli had conversed onterms of private intimacy, and there is no doubt that his imaginationhad been dazzled by the brilliant intellectual abilities of thisconsummate rogue. Dispatched in 1502 by the Florentine Republic to watchthe operations of Cesare at Imola, with secret instructions to offer theDuke false promises in the hope of eliciting information that could berelied upon, Machiavelli had enjoyed the rare pleasure of a game atpolitical écarté with the subtlest and most unscrupulous diplomatist ofhis age. He had witnessed his terrible yet beneficial administration ofRomagna. He had been present at his murder of the chiefs of the Orsinifaction at Sinigaglia. Cesare had confided to him, or had pretended toconfide, his schemes of personal ambition, as well as the motives andthe measures of his secret policy. On the day of the election of PopeJulius II. He had laid bare the whole of his past history before theFlorentine secretary, and had pointed out the single weakness of whichhe felt himself to have been guilty. In these trials of skill and thisexchange of confidence it is impossible to say which of the twogamesters may have been the more deceived. But Machiavelli felt that theBorgia supplied him with a perfect specimen for the study of the arts ofstatecraft; and so deep was the impression produced upon his mind, thateven after the utter failure of Cesare's designs he made him the hero ofthe political romance before us. His artistic perception of the perfectand the beautiful, both in unscrupulous conduct and in frigidcalculation of conflicting interests, was satisfied by the steadyselfishness, the persistent perfidy, the profound mistrust of men, theself-command in the execution of perilous designs, the moderate anddeliberate employment of cruelty for definite ends, which he observed inthe young Duke, and which he has idealized in his own _Principe_. Thatnature, as of a salamander adapted to its element of fire, as of 'aresolute angel that delights in flame, ' to which nothing was sacred, which nothing could daunt, which never for a moment sacrificed reason topassion, which was incapable of weakness or fatigue, had fascinatedMachiavelli's fancy. The moral qualities of the man, the basefoundations upon which he raised his power, the unutterable scandals ofhis private life, and the hatred of all Christendom were as nothing inthe balance. Such considerations had, according to the conditions of hissubject, to be eliminated before he weighed the intellectual qualitiesof the adventurer. 'If all the achievements of the Duke areconsidered'--it is Machiavelli speaking--'it will be found that he builtup a great substructure for his future power; nor do I know whatprecepts I could furnish to a prince in his commencement better thansuch as are to be derived from his example. ' It is thus thatMachiavelli, the citizen, addresses Lorenzo, the tyrant of Florence. Hesays to him: Go thou and do likewise. And what, then, is this likewise?

Cesare, being a Pope's son, had nothing to look to but the influence ofhis father. At first he designed to use this influence in the Church;but after murdering his elder brother, he threw aside the Cardinal'sscarlet and proclaimed himself a political aspirant. His father couldnot make him lord of any state, unless it were a portion of theterritory of the Church: and though, by creating, as he did, twelveCardinals in one day, he got the Sacred College to sanction hisinvestiture of the Duchy of Romagna, yet both Venice and Milan wereopposed to this scheme. Again there was a difficulty to be encounteredin the great baronial houses of Orsini and Colonna, who at that timeheaded all the mercenary troops of Italy, and who, as Roman nobles, hada natural hatred for the Pope. It was necessary to use their aid in theacquisition of Cesare's principality. It was no less needful to humortheir animosity. Under these circumstances Alexander thought it best toinvite the French king into Italy, bargaining with Louis that he woulddissolve his marriage in return for protection awarded to Cesare. TheColonna faction meanwhile was to be crushed, and the Orsini to beflattered. Cesare, by the help of his French allies and the Orsinicaptains, took possession of Imola and Faenza, and thence proceeded tooverrun Romagna. In this enterprise he succeeded to the full. Romagnahad been, from the earliest period of Italian history, a nest of pettytyrants who governed badly and who kept no peace in their dominions. Therefore the towns were but languid in their opposition to Cesare, andwere soon more than contented with a conqueror who introduced a goodsystem for the administration of justice. But now two difficultiesarose. The subjugation of Romagna had been effected by the help of theFrench and the Orsini. Cesare as yet had formed no militia of his own, and his allies were becoming suspicious. The Orsini had shown someslackness at Faenza; and when Cesare proceeded to make himself master ofUrbino, and to place a foot in Tuscany by the capture of Piombino--whichconquests he completed during 1500 and 1501--Louis began to be jealousof him. The problem for the Duke was how to disembarrass himself of thetwo forces by which he had acquired a solid basis for his futureprincipality. His first move was to buy over the Cardinal d'Amboise, whose influence in the French Court was supreme and thus to keep hiscredit for awhile afloat with Louis. His second was to neutralize thepower of the Orsini, partly by pitting them against the Colonnesi, andpartly by superseding them in their command as captains. For the latterpurpose he became his own Condottiere, drawing to his standard by thelure of splendid pay all the minor gentry of the Roman Campagna. Thus hecollected his own forces and was able to dispense with the unsafe aid ofmercenary troops. At this point of his career the Orsini, finding himestablished in Romagna, in Urbino, and in part of Tuscany, while theirown strength was on the decline, determined if possible to check thecareer of this formidable tyrant by assassination. The conspiracy knownas the 'Diet of La Magione' was the consequence. In this conjuration theCardinal Orsini, Paolo Orsini, his brother and head of the great house, together with Vitellozzo Vitelli, lord of Città di Castello, theBaglione of Perugia, the Bentivoglio of Bologna, Antonio da Venasso fromSiena, and Oliverotto da Fermo took each a part. The result of theirmachinations against the common foe was that Cesare for a moment lostUrbino, and was nearly unseated in Romagna. But the French helped him, and he stood firm. Still it was impossible to believe that Louis XII. Would suffer him to advance unchecked in his career of conquest; and aslong as he continued between the French and the Orsini his position wasof necessity insecure. The former had to be cast off; the latter to beextirpated; and yet he had not force enough to play an open game. 'Hetherefore, ' says Machiavelli, 'turned to craft, and displayed such skillin dissimulation that the Orsini through the mediation of Paolo becamehis friends again. ' The cruelty of Cesare Borgia was only equalled byhis craft; and it was by a supreme exercise of his power offascination that he lured the foes who had plotted against him at LaMagione into his snare at Sinigaglia. Paolo Orsini, Francesco Orsini, duke of Gravina, Vitellozzo Vitelli, and Oliverotto da Fermo were allmen of arms, accustomed to intrigue and to bloodshed, and more than oneof them were stained with crimes of the most atrocious treachery. Yetsuch were the arts of Cesare Borgia that in 1502 he managed to assemblethem, apart from their troops, in the castle of Sinigaglia, where he hadthem strangled. Having now destroyed the chiefs of the opposition andenlisted their forces in his own service, Cesare, to use the phrase ofMachiavelli, 'had laid good foundations for his future power. ' Hecommanded a sufficient territory; he wielded the temporal and spiritualpower of his father; he was feared by the princes and respected by thepeople throughout Italy; his cruelty and perfidy and subtlety andboldness caused him to be universally admired. But as yet he had onlylaid foundations. The empire of Italy was still to win; for he aspiredto nothing else, and it is even probable that he entertained a notion ofsecularizing the Papacy. France was the chief obstacle to his ambition. The alarm of Louis had at last been roused. But Louis' own mistake inbringing the Spaniards into Naples afforded Cesare the means of shakingoff the French control. He espoused the cause of Spain, and byintriguing now with the one power and now with the other made himselfboth formidable and desirable to each. His geographical position betweenMilan and Naples enforced this policy. Another difficulty against whichhe had to provide was in the future rather than the present. Should hisfather die, and a new Pope adverse to his interests be elected, he mightlose not only the support of the Holy See, but also his fiefs of Romagnaand Urbino. To meet this contingency he took four precautions, mentionedwith great admiration by Machiavelli. In the first place hesystematically murdered the heirs of the ruling families of all thecities he acquired--as for example three Varani at Camerino, twoManfredi at Faenza, the Orsini and Vitelli at Sinigaglia, and otherswhom it would be tedious to mention. By this process he left no scion ofthe ancient houses for a future Pope to restore. In the second place heattached to his person by pensions, offices, and emoluments, all theRoman gentry, so that he might be able to keep the new Pope a prisonerand unarmed in Rome. Thirdly, he reduced the College of Cardinals, bybribery, terrorism, poisoning, and packed elections, to such a statethat he could count on the creation of a Pope, if not his nominee, atleast not hostile to his interests. Fourthly, he lost no time, butpushed his plans of conquest on with utmost speed, so as, if possible, to command a large territory at the time of Alexander's death. Machiavelli, who records these four points with approbation, adds: 'Hetherefore, who finds it needful in his new authority to secure himselfagainst foes, to acquire allies, to gain a point by force or fraud, etc. , etc. , could not discover an ensample more vigorous and bloomingthan that of Cesare. ' Such is the panegyric which Machiavelli, writing, as it seems to me, in all good faith and innocence, records of a manwho, taken altogether, is perhaps the most selfish, perfidious, andmurderous of adventurers on record. The only fault for which he blameshim is that he did not prevent the election of Pope Julius II, byconcentrating his influence on either the Cardinal d'Amboise or aSpaniard. 

It is curious to read the title of the chapter following that whichcriticises the action of Cesare Borgia: it runs thus, 'Concerning thosewho have attained to sovereignty by crimes. ' Cesare was clearly not oneof these men in the eyes of Machiavelli, who confines his attention toAgathocles of Syracuse, and to Oliverotto da Fermo, a brigand whoacquired the lordship of Fermo by murdering his uncle and benefactor, Giovanni Fogliani, and all the chief men of the city at a banquet towhich he had invited them. This atrocity, according to Machiavelli'screed, would have been justified, if Oliverotto had combined cruelty andsubtlety in proper proportions. But his savagery was not sufficientlyveiled; a prince should never incur odium by crimes of violence, butonly use them as the means of inspiring terror. Besides, Oliverotto wasso simple as to fall at last into the snare of Cesare Borgia atSinigaglia. Cesare himself supplies Machiavelli with a notable exampleof the way in which cruelty can be well used. Having found the cities ofRomagna in great disorder, Cesare determined to quell them by theferocity of a terrible governor. For this purpose he chose Messer Ramirod' Orco, 'a man cruel and quick of action, to whom he gave the fullestpower. ' A story is told of Messer Ramiro which illustrates his temper ina very bizarre fashion: he one day kicked a clumsy page on to the fire, and held him there with a poker till he was burned up. Acting after thisfashion, with plenipotentiary authority, Ramiro soon froze the wholeprovince into comparative tranquillity. But it did not suit Cesare toincur the odium which the man's cruelty brought on his administration. Accordingly he had him decapitated one night and exposed to public view, together with the block and bloody hatchet, in the square at Cesena. Ofthe art with which Cesare first reduced Romagna to order by the crueltyof his agent, and then avoided the odium of this cruelty by using thewretched creature as an appalling example of his justice and his power, Machiavelli wholly approves. His theory is that cruelty should beemployed for certain definite purposes, but that the Prince shouldendeavor to shun as far as possible the hatred it inspires. In justiceboth to Machiavelli and to Cesare, it should be said that theadministration of Romagna was far better under the Borgia rule than ithad ever been before. The exhibition of savage violence of whichMachiavelli approves was perhaps needed to cow so brutalized apopulation. 

In those chapters which Machiavelli has devoted to the exposition of thequalities that befit a Prince, it is clear that Cesare Borgia was notunfrequentlv before his eyes. [1] The worst thing that can be said aboutItaly of the sixteenth century is that such an analyst as Machiavellishould have been able to idealize an adventurer whose egotisticimmorality was so undisguised. The ethics of this profound anatomist ofhuman motives were based upon a conviction that men are altogether bad. When discussing the question whether it be better to be loved or feared, Machiavelli decides that 'it is far safer to be feared than loved, ifyou must choose; seeing that you may say of men generally that they areungrateful and changeable, dissemblers, apt to shun danger, eager forgain; as long as you serve them, they offer you everything, down totheir very children, if you have no need; but when you want help, theyfail you. Therefore it is best to put no faith in their pretended love. 'This is language which could only be used in a country where loyalty wasunknown and where all political and social combinations were foundedupon force or convenience. Princes must, however, be cautious not toinjure their subjects in their honor or their property--especially thelatter, since men 'forget the murder of their fathers quicker than theloss of their money. ' Under another heading Machiavelli returns to thesame topic, and lays it down as an axiom that, since the large majorityof men are bad, a prince must learn in self-defense how to be bad, andmust use this science when and where he deems appropriate, endeavoring, however, under all circumstances to pass for good. 

 [1] In a letter to Fr. Vettori (Jan. 31, 1514) he says: 'Il duca Valentino, l' opere del quale io imiterei sempre quando fossi principe nuove. 

He brings the same desperate philosophy of life, the same bitterexperience of mankind, to bear upon his discussion of the faith ofprinces. The chapter which is entitled 'How princes ought to keep theirword' is one of the most brilliantly composed and thoroughlyMachiavellian of the whole treatise. He starts with the assertion thatto fight the battles of life in accordance with law is human, to dependon force is brutal; yet when the former method is insufficient, thelatter must be adopted. A prince should know how to combine the naturesof the man and of the beast; and this is the meaning of the mythus ofCheiron, who was made the tutor of Achilles. He should strive to acquirethe qualities of the fox and of the lion, in order that he may bothavoid snares and guard himself from wolves. A prudent prince cannot andmust not keep faith, when it is harmful to do so, or when the occasionunder which he promised has passed by. He will always find colorablepretexts for breaking his word; and if he learns well how to feign, hewill have but little difficulty in deceiving people. Among theinnumerable instances of successful hypocrites Machiavelli can think ofnone more excellent than Alexander VI. 'He never did anything else butdeceive men, nor ever thought of anything but this, and always found aptmatter for his practice. Never was there a man who had greater force inswearing and tying himself down to his engagements, or who observed themless. Nevertheless his wiles were always successful in the way hewished, because he well knew that side of the world. ' It is curious thatMachiavelli should have forgotten that the whole elaborate life's policyof Alexander and his son was ruined precisely by their falling into oneof their own traps, and that the mistake or treason of a servant upsetthe calculations of the two most masterly deceivers of their age. [1]Following out the same line of thought, which implies that in a badworld a prince cannot afford to be good, Machiavelli asserts: 'It is notnecessary that a prince should be merciful, loyal, humane, religious, just: nay, I will venture to say, that if he had all these qualities andalways used them, they would harm him. But he must _seem_ to have them, especially if he be new in his principality, where he will find it quiteimpossible to exercise these virtues, since in order to maintain hispower he will be often obliged to act contrary to humanity, charity, religion. ' Machiavelli does not advise him to become bad for the sake ofbadness, but to know when to quit the path of virtue for thepreservation of his kingdom. 'He must take care to say nothing that isnot full of these five qualities, and must always appear all mercy, allloyalty, all humanity, all justice, all religion, especially the last. 'On the advantage of a reputation for piety Machiavelli insists moststrongly. He points out how Ferdinand the Catholic used the pretext ofreligious zeal in order to achieve the conquest of Granada, to invadeAfrica, to expel the Moors, and how his perfidies in Italy, hisperjuries to France, were colored with a sanctimonious decency. 

 [1] Perhaps this is an indirect argument against the legend of their death. 

After reading these passages we feel that though it may be true thatMachiavelli only spoke with scientific candor of the vices which werecommon to all statesmen in his age--though the Italians were so corruptthat it seemed hopeless to deal fairly with them--yet there was aradical taint in the soul of the man who could have the heart to cullthese poisonous herbs of policy and distill their juices to aquintessence for the use of the prince to whom he was confiding thedestinies of Italy. [1] Almost involuntarily we remember the oath whichArthur administered to his knights, when he bade them 'never to dooutrage nor murder, and always to flee treason; also by no means to becruel, but to give mercy unto him that asked mercy, upon pain offorfeiture of their worship and lordship of King Arthur for evermore. 'In a land where chivalry like this had ever taken root, either as anideal or as an institution, the chapters of Machiavelli could scarcelyhave been published. The Italians lacked the virtues of knighthood. Itwas possible among them for the philosophers to teach the princes thatsuccess purchased at the expense of honor, loyalty, humanity, and truthmight be illustrious. 

It is refreshing to turn from those chapters in which Machiavelliteaches the Prince how to cope with the world by using the vices of thewicked, to his exposition of the military organization suited to themaintenance of a great kingdom. Machiavelli has no mean or humbleambition for his Prince: 'double will his glory be, who has founded anew realm, and fortified and adorned it with good laws, good arms, goodfriends, and good ensamples. ' What the enterprise to which he fain wouldrouse Lorenzo really is, will appear in the conclusion. Meanwhile heencourages him by the example of Ferdinand the Catholic to gird hisloins up for great enterprises. He bids him be circumspect in his choiceof secretaries, seeing that 'the first opinion formed of a prince and ofhis capacity is derived from the men whom he has gathered round him. ' Hepoints out how he should shun flattery and seek respectful but sincereadvice. Finally he reminds him that a prince is impotent unless he cancommand obedience by his arms. Fortresses are a doubtful source ofstrength; against foreign foes they are worse than useless; againstsubjects they are worthless in comparison with the goodwill of thepeople: 'the best fortress possible is to escape the hatred of yoursubjects. ' Everything therefore depends upon the well-ordering of anational militia. The neglect of that ruined the princes of Italy andenabled Charles VIII. To conquer the fairest of European kingdoms withwooden spurs and a piece of chalk. [2]

 [1] In the _Discorsi_, lib. I. Cap. 55, he calls Italy 'la coruttela del mondo, ' and judges that her case is desperate; 'non si può sperare nelle provincie che in questi tempi si veggono corrotte, come è l' Italia sopra tutte le altre. '

 [2] The references in this paragraph are made to chapters xx. -xxiv. And chapter xii. Of the _Principe_. 

In his discourse on armies Machiavelli lays it down that the troops withwhich a prince defends his state are either his own, or mercenaries, orauxiliaries, or mixed. 'Mercenary and auxiliary forces are both uselessand perilous, and he who founds the security of his dominion on theformer will never be established firmly: seeing that they are disunited, ambitious, and undisciplined, without loyalty, truculent to theirfriends, cowardly among foes; they have no fear of God, no faith withmen; you are only safe with them before they are attacked; in peace theyplunder you; in war you are the prey of your enemies. The cause of thisis that they have no other love nor other reason to keep the field, beyond a little pay, which is far from sufficient to make them wish todie for you. They are willing enough to be your soldiers so long as youare at peace, but when war comes their impulse is to fly or sneak away. It ought to be easy to establish the truth of this assertion, since theruin of Italy is due to nothing else except this, that we have now formany years depended upon mercenary arms. '[1] Here he touches the realweakness of the Italian states. Then he proceeds to explain further therottenness of the Condottiere system. Captains of adventure are eithermen of ability or not. If they are, you have to fear lest their ambitionprompt them to turn their arms against yourself or your allies. Thishappened to Queen Joan of Naples, who was deserted by Sforza Attendoloin her sorest need; to the Milanese, when Francesco Sforza made himselftheir despot; to the Venetians, who were driven to decapitateCarmagnuola because they feared him. The only reason why the Florentineswere not enslaved by Sir John Hawkwood was that, though an able general, he achieved no great successes in the field. In the same way theyescaped by luck from Sforza, who turned his attention to Milan, and fromBraccio, who formed designs against the Church and Naples. If PaoloVitelli had been victorious against Pisa (1498), he would have held themat discretion. In each of these cases it was only the good fortune ofthe republic which saved it from a military despotism. If, on the otherhand, the mercenary captains are men of no capacity, you are defeated inthe field. 

 [1] See chapter xii. Of the _Principe. _

Proceeding to the historical development of this bad system, Machiavellipoints out how after the decline of the Imperial authority in Italy, thePapacy and the republics got the upper hand. Priests and merchants werealike unwilling to engage in war. Therefore they took mercenary troopsinto their pay. The companies of the Sforzeschi and Bracceschi wereformed; and 'after these came all those others who have ruled this sortof warfare down to our own days. The consequence of their valor is thatItaly has been harried by Charles, plundered by Louis, forced byFerdinand, insulted by the Swiss. Their method has been to enhance thereputation of their cavalry by depressing the infantry. Being withoutdominion of their own, and making war their commerce, a few footsoldiers brought them no repute, while they were unable to support many. Therefore they confined themselves to cavalry, until in a force of20, 000 men you could not number 2, 000 infantry. Besides this theyemployed all their ingenuity to relieve themselves and their soldiers offatigue and peril, by refraining from slaughter and from takingprisoners without ransom. Night attacks and sorties were abandoned;stockades and trenches in the camp were given up; no one thought of awinter campaign. All these things were allowed, or rather introduced, inorder to avoid, as I have said, fatigue and peril. Whereby they havereduced Italy to slavery and insult. ' Auxiliaries, such as the Frenchtroops borrowed by Cesare Borgia, and the Spaniards engaged by JuliusII. , are even worse. 'He who wants to be unable to win the game shouldmake use of these forces; for they are far more dangerous thanmercenaries, seeing that in them the cause of ruin is ready made--theyare united together, and inclined to obey their own masters. Machiavellienforces this moral by one of those rare but energetic figures which addvirile dignity to his discourse. He compares auxiliary troops to thearmor of Saul, which David refused, preferring to fight Goliath with hisstone and sling. 'In one word, arms borrowed from another either fallfrom your back, or weigh you down, or impede your action. ' It remainsfor a prince to form his own troops and to take the field in person, like Cesare Borgia, when he discarded his French allies and themercenary aid of the Orsini captains. Republics should follow the samecourse, dispatching, as the Romans did, their own citizens to the war, and controlling by law the personal ambition of victorious generals. Itwas thus that the Venetians prospered in their conquests, before theyacquired their provinces in Italy and adopted the Condottiere systemfrom their neighbors. 'A prince, therefore, should have but one object, one thought, one art--the art of war. ' Those who have followed this rulehave attained to sovereignty, like Francesco Sforza, who became Duke ofMilan; those who have neglected it have lost even hereditary kingdoms, like the last Sforzas, who sank from dukedom into private life. Evenamid the pleasures of the chase a prince should always be studying thegeographical conformation of his country with a view to its defense, andshould acquire a minute knowledge of such strategical laws as areeverywhere applicable. He should read history with the same object, andshould keep before his eyes the example of those great men of the pastfrom whom he can learn lessons for his guidance in the present. 

This brings us to the peroration of the _Principe_, which contains thepractical issue toward which the whole treatise has been tending, thepatriotic thought that reflects a kind of luster even on the darkestpages that have gone before. Like Thetis, Machiavelli has dipped hisAchilles in the Styx of infernal counsels; like Cheiron, he has shownhim how the human and the bestial natures should be combined in one whohas to break the teeth of wolves and keep his feet from snares; likeHephaistos, he has forged for him invulnerable armor. The object towardwhich this preparation has been leading is the liberation of Italy fromthe barbarians. The slavery of Israel in Egypt, the oppression of thePersians by the Medes, the dispersion of the Athenians into villages, were the occasions which enabled Moses and Cyrus and Theseus to displaytheir greatness. The new Prince, who would fain win honor in Italy andconfer upon his country untold benefits, finds her at the present moment'more enslaved than the Hebrews, more downtrodden than the Persians, more disunited than the Athenians, without a chief, without order, beaten, despoiled, mangled, overrun, subject to every sort ofdesolation. ' Fortune could not have offered him a nobler opportunity. 'See how she prays God to send her some one who should save her fromthese barbarous cruelties ind insults! See her all ready and alert tofollow any standard, if only there be a man to raise it!' ThenMachiavelli addresses himself to the chief of the Medici in person. 'Noris there at the present moment any place more full of hope for her thanyour illustrious House, which by its valor and its fortune, favored byGod and by the Church, whereof it is now the head, might take the leadin this delivery. ' This is followed by one of the rare passages ofcourtly rhetoric which, when Machiavelli condescends to indulge in them, add peculiar splendor to his style. Then he turns again to speak of themeans which should immediately be used. He urges Lorenzo above allthings to put no faith in mercenaries or auxiliaries, but to raise hisown forces, and to rely on the Italian infantry. If Italian armies havealways been defeated in the field during the past twenty years, it isnot due so much to their defective courage as to the weakness of theircommanders. Lorenzo will have to raise a force capable of coping withthe Swiss, the Spanish, and the French. The respect with whichMachiavelli speaks at this supreme moment of these foreign troops, proves how great was their prestige in Italy; yet he ventures to pointout that there are faults peculiar to each of them: the Spanish infantrycannot stand a cavalry charge, and the Switzers are liable to bedisconcerted by the rapid attack of the wiry infantry of Spain. It istherefore necessary to train troops capable of resisting cavalry, andnot afraid of facing any foot soldiers in the world. 'This opportunity, therefore, must not be suffered to slip by; in order that Italy mayafter so long a time at last behold her saviour. Nor can I find words todescribe the love with which he would be hailed in all the provincesthat have suffered through these foreign deluges, the thirst forvengeance, the stubborn fidelity, the piety, the tears, that he wouldmeet What gates would be closed against him? What people would refusehim allegiance? What jealousy would thwart him? What Italian would befound to refuse him homage? This rule of the barbarians stinks in thenostrils of us all. Then let your illustrious House assume thisenterprise in the spirit and the confidence wherewith just enterprisesare begun, that so, under your flag, this land of ours may be ennobled, and under your auspices be brought to pass that prophecy of Petrarch:--

 'Lo, valor against rage Shall take up arms, nor shall the fight be long; For that old heritage Of courage in Italian hearts is stout and strong. 

With this trumpet-cry of impassioned patriotism the_Principe_ closes. 

Hegel, in his 'Philosophy of History, ' has recorded a judgment ofMachiavelli's treatise in relation to the political conditions of Italyat the end of the mediaeval period, which might be quoted as the mostcomplete apology for the author it is possible to make. 'This book, ' hesays, 'has often been cast aside with horror as containing maxims of themost revolting tyranny; yet it was Machiavelli's high sense of thenecessity of constituting a state which caused him to lay down theprinciples on which alone states could be formed under thecircumstances. The isolated lords and lordships had to be entirelysuppressed; and though our idea of Freedom is incompatible with themeans which he proposes both as the only available and also as whollyjustifiable--including, as these do, the most reckless violence, allkinds of deception, murder, and the like--yet we must confess that thedespots who had to be subdued were assailable in no other way, inasmuchas indomitable lawlessness and perfect depravity were thoroughlyengrained in them. '

Yet after the book has been shut and the apology has been weighed, wecannot but pause and ask ourselves this question, Which was the truerpatriot--Machiavelli, systematizing the political vices and corruptionsof his time in a philosophical essay, and calling on the despot to whomit was dedicated to liberate Italy; or Savonarola, denouncing sin andenforcing repentance--Machiavelli, who taught as precepts of pure wisdomthose very principles of public immorality which lay at the root ofItaly's disunion and weakness; or Savonarola, who insisted that withouta moral reformation no liberty was possible? We shall have to considerthe action of Savonarola in another place. Meanwhile, it is not too muchto affirm that, with diplomatists like Machiavelli, and with princeslike those whom he has idealized, Italy could not be free. Hypocrisy, treachery, dissimulation, cruelty are the vices of the selfish and theenslaved. Yet Machiavelli was led by his study of the past and by hisexperience of the present to defend these vices, as the necessaryqualities of the prince whom he would fain have chosen for the saviourof his country. It is legitimate to excuse him on the ground that theItalians of his age had not conceived a philosophy of right which shouldinclude duties as well as privileges, and which should guard theinterests of the governed no less than those of the governor. It is truethat the feudal conception of Monarchy, so well apprehended by him inthe fourth chapter of the _Principe, _ had nowhere been realized inItaly, and that therefore the right solution of the political problemseemed to lie in setting force against force, and fraud against fraud, for a sublime purpose. It may also be urged with justice that thehistorians and speculators of antiquity, esteemed beyond their value bythe students of the sixteenth century, confirmed him in his applicationof a positive philosophy to statecraft. The success which attended theviolence and dissimulation of the Romans, as described by Livy, inducedhim to inculcate the principles on which they acted. The scientificmethod followed by Aristotle in the Politics encouraged him in theadoption of a similar analysis; while the close parallel between ancientGreece and mediaeval Italy was sufficient to create a conviction thatthe wisdom of the old world would be precisely applicable to theconditions of the new. These, however, are exculpations of the manrather than justifications of his theory. The theory was false andvicious. And the fact remains that the man, impregnated by the badmorality of the period in which he lived, was incapable of ascendingabove it to the truth, was impotent with all his acumen to read thedeepest lessons of past and present history, and in spite of hisacknowledged patriotism succeeded only in adding his conscious andunconscious testimony to the corruption of the country that he loved. The broad common-sense, the mental soundness, the humane instinct andthe sympathy with nature, which give fertility and wholeness to thepolitical philosophy of men like Burke, are absent in Machiavelli. Inspite of its vigor, his system implies an inversion of the ruling lawsof health in the body politic. In spite of its logical cogency, it isinconclusive by reason of defective premises. Incomparable as an essayin pathological anatomy, it throws no light upon the working of a normalsocial organism, and has at no time been used with profit even by theambitious and unscrupulous. 

CHAPTER VII. 

THE POPES OF THE RENAISSANCE. 

The Papacy between 1447 and 1527--The Contradictions of the RenaissancePeriod exemplified by the Popes--Relaxation of their hold over theStates of the Church and Rome during the Exile in Avignon--NicholasV. --His Conception of a Papal Monarchy--Pius II. --TheCrusade--Renaissance Pontiffs--Paul II. --Persecution of thePlatonists--Sixtus IV. --Nepotism--The Families of Riario and DeliaRovere--Avarice--Love of Warfare--Pazzi Conspiracy--Inquisition inSpain--Innocent VIII. --Franceschetto Cibo--The Election of AlexanderVI. --His Consolidation of the Temporal Power--Policy toward Colonna andOrsini Families--Venality of everything in Rome--Policy toward the--Sultan--The Index--The Borgia Family--Lucrezia--Murder of Duke of GandiaCesare and his Advancement--The Death of Alexander--Julius II. --Hisviolent Temper--Great Projects and commanding Character--Leo X. --HisInferiority to Julius--S. Peter's and the Reformation--Adrian VI. --HisHatred of Pagan Culture--Disgust of the Roman Court at hisElection--Clement VII. --Sack of Rome--Enslavement of Florence. 

In the fourteenth and the first half of the fifteenth centuries theauthority of the Popes, both as Heads of the Church and as temporalrulers, had been impaired by exile in France and by ruinous schisms. Anew era began with the election of Nicholas V. In 1447, and ended duringthe pontificate of Clement VII. With the sack of Rome in 1527. Throughthe whole of this period the Popes acted more as monarchs than aspontiffs, and the secularization of the See of Rome was earned to itsutmost limits. The contrast between the sacerdotal pretensions and thepersonal immorality of the Popes was glaring; nor had the chiefs of theChurch yet learned to regard the liberalism of the Renaissance withsuspicion. About the middle of the sixteenth century the Papal Stateshad become a recognized kingdom; while the Popes of this later epochwere endeavoring by means of the inquisition and the educational ordersto check the free spirit of Italy. 

The history of Italy has at all times been closely bound up with that ofthe Papacy; but at no period has this been more the case than duringthese eighty years of Papal worldliness, ambition, depotism, andprofligacy, which are also marked by the irruption of the Europeannations into Italy and by the secession of the Teutonic races from theLatin Church. In this short space of time a succession of Popes filledthe Holy Chair with such dramatic propriety--displaying a pride soregal, a cynicism so unblushing, so selfish a cupidity, and a policy sosuicidal as to favor the belief that they had been placed there in theprovidence of God to warn the world against Babylon. At the same timethe history of the Papal Court reveals with peculiar vividness thecontradictions of Renaissance morality and manners. We find in the Popesof this period what has been already noticed in the despots--learning, the patronage of of the arts, the passion for magnificence, and therefinements of polite culture, alternating and not unfrequently combinedwith barbarous ferocity of temper and with savage and coarse tastes. Onthe one side we observe a Pagan dissoluteness which would havescandalized the parasites of Commodus and Nero; on the other, a seemingzeal for dogma worthy of S. Dominic. The Vicar of Christ is at one timeworshiped as a god by princes seeking absolution for sins or liberationfrom burdensome engagements; at another he is trampled under foot, inhis capacity of sovereign, by the same potentates. Undisguisedsensuality; fraud cynical and unabashed; policy marching to its end bymurders, treasons, interdicts, and imprisonments; the open sale ofspiritual privileges; commercial traffic in ecclesiastical emoluments;hypocrisy and cruelty studied as fine arts; theft and perjury reduced tosystem--these are the ordinary scandals which beset the Papacy. Yet thePope is still a holy being. His foot is kissed by thousands. His curseand blessing carry death and life. He rises from the bed of harlots tounlock or bolt the gates of heaven and purgatory. In the midst of crimehe believes himself to be the representative of Christ on earth. Theseanomalies, glaring as they seem to us, and obvious as they might be todeeper thinkers like Machiavelli or Savonarola, did not shock the massof men who witnessed them. The Renaissance was so dazzling by itsbrilliancy, so confusing by its rapid changes, that moral distinctionswere obliterated in a blaze of splendor, an outburst of new life, acarnival of liberated energies. The corruption of Italy was only equaledby its culture. Its immorality was matched by its enthusiasm. It wasnot the decay of an old age dying, so much as the fermentation of a newage coming into life, that bred the monstrous paradoxes of the fifteenthand the sixteenth centuries. The contrast between mediæval Christianityand renascent Paganism--the sharp conflict of two adverse principles, destined to fuse their forces and to recompose the modern world--madethe Renaissance what it was in Italy. Nowhere is the first effervescenceof these elements so well displayed as in the history of those Pontiffswho, after striving in the Middle Ages to suppress humanity beneath acowl, are now the chief actors in the comedy of Aphrodite and Priapusraising their foreheads once more to the light of day. 

The struggle carried on between the Popes of the thirteenth century andthe House of Hohenstauffen ended in the elevation of the Princes ofAnjou to the throne of Naples--the most pernicious of all the evilsinflicted by the Papal power on Italy. Then followed the French tyranny, under which Boniface VIII. Expired at Anagni. Benedict XI. Was poisonedat the instigation of Philip le Bel, and the Papal see was transferredto Avignon. The Popes lost their hold upon the city of Rome and uponthose territories of Romagna, the March, and S. Peter's Patrimony whichhad been confirmed to them by the grant of Rodolph of Hapsburg (1273). They had to govern their Italian dependencies by means of Legates, while, one by one, the cities which had recognized their sway passedbeneath the yoke of independent princes. The Malatesti establishedthemselves in Rimini, Pesaro, and Fano; the house of Montefeltroconfirmed its occupation of Urbino; Camerino, Faenza, Ravenna, Forli, and Imola became the appanages of the Varani, the Manfredi, thePolentani, the Ordelaffi, and the Alidosi. [1] The traditional supremacyof the Popes was acknowledged in these tyrannies; but the nobles I havenamed acquired a real authority, against which Egidio Albornoz andRobert of Geneva struggled to a great extent in vain, and to break whichat a future period taxed the whole energies of Sixtus and of Alexander. 

 [1] See Mach. _Ist. Fior_. Lib. I. 

While the influence of the Popes was thus weakened in their statesbeyond the Apennines, three great families, the Orsini, the Savelli, andthe Colonnesi, grew to princely eminence in Rome and its immediateneighborhood. They had been severally raised to power during the secondhalf of the thirteenth century by the nepotism of Nicholas III. , Honorius IV. , and Nicholas IV. This nepotism bore baneful fruits in thefuture; for during the exile at Avignon the houses of Colonna and Orsinibecame so overbearing as to threaten the freedom and safety of thePopes. It was again reserved for Sixtus and Alexander to undo the workof their predecessors and to secure the independence of the Holy See bythe coercion of these towering nobles. 

In the States of the Church the temporal power of the Popes, foundedupon false donations, confirmed by tradition, and contested by rivaldespots, was an anomaly. In Rome itself their situation, thoughdifferent, was no less peculiar. While the factions of Orsini andColonna divided the Campagna and wrangled in the streets of the city, Rome continued to preserve, in form at least, the old constitution ofCaporioni and Senator. The Senator, elected by the people, swore, not toobey the Pope, but to defend his person. The government was ostensiblyrepublican. The Pope had no sovereign rights, but only the ascendencyinseparable from his wealth and from his position as Primate ofChristendom. At the same time the spirit of Arnold of Brescia, ofBrancaleone, and of Rienzi revived from time to time in patriots likePorcari and Baroncelli, who resented the encroachments of the Churchupon the privileges of the city. Rome afforded no real security to themembers of the Holy College. They commanded no fortress like theCastello of Milan, and had no army at their disposition. When the peopleor the nobles rose against them, the best they could do was to retire toOrvieto or Viterbo, and to wait the passing of the storm. 

Such was the position of the Pope, considered as one of the rulingprinces of Italy, before the election of Nicholas V. His authority waswide but undefined, confirmed by prescription, but based on neitherforce nor legal right. Italy, however, regarded the Papacy asindispensable to her prosperity, while Rome was proud to be called themetropolis of Christendom, and ready to sacrifice the shadow ofrepublican liberty for the material advantages which might accrue fromthe sovereignty of her bishop. How the Roman burghers may have felt uponthis point we gather from a sentence of Leo Alberti's, referring to theadministration of Nicholas: 'The city had become a city of gold throughthe jubilee; the dignity of the citizens was respected; all reasonablepetitions were granted by the Pontiff. There were no exactions, no newtaxes. Justice was fairly administered. It was the whole care of thePontiff to adorn the city. '[1] The prosperity which the Papal courtbrought to Rome was the main support of the Popes as princes, at a timewhen many thinkers looked with Dante's jealousy upon the union oftemporal and spiritual functions in the Papacy. [2] Moreover, the wholeof Italy, as we have seen in the previous chapters, was undergoing agradual and instinctive change in politics; commonwealths were beingsuperseded by tyrannies, and the sentiments of the race at large were byno means unfavorable to this revolution. Now was the proper moment, therefore, for the Popes to convert their ill-defined authority into asettled despotism, to secure themselves in Rome as sovereigns, and tosubdue the States of the Church to their temporal jurisdiction. 

 [1] See history of Porcari's Conspiracy (Muratori, vol. Xxv. ). 

 [2] Lorenzo Valla's famous declamation against the Donation of Constantine, which appeared during the pontificate of Nicholas, contained these reminiscences of the 'De Monarchiá': 'Ut Papa tantum vicarius Christi sit et non etiam Cæsaris . .. Tune Papa et erit et dicetur pater sanctus, pater omnium, pater ecclesæ. '

The work was begun by Thomas of Sarzana, who ascended the Chair of S. Peter, as Nicholas V. , in 1447. One part of his biography belongs to thehistory of scholarship, and need not here be touched upon. Educated atFlorence, under the shadow of the house of Medici, he had imbibed thoseprinciples of deference to princely authority which were supplanting theold republican virtues throughout Italy. The schisms which had rent theCatholic Church were healed; and finding no opposition to his spiritualpower, he determined to consolidate the temporalities of his See. Inthis purpose he was confirmed by the conspiracy of Stefano Porcari, aRoman noble who had endeavored to rouse republican enthusiasm in thecity at the moment of the Pope's election, and who subsequently plottedagainst his liberty, if not his life. Porcari and his associates wereput to death in 1453, and by this act the Pope proclaimed himself amonarch. The vast wealth which the jubilee of 1450 had poured into thePapal coffers[1] he employed in beautifying the city of Rome and increating a stronghold for the Sovereign Pontiff. The mausoleum ofHadrian, used long before as a fortress in the Middle Ages, was nowstrengthened, while the bridge of S. Angelo and the Leonine city were soconnected and defended by a system of walls and outworks as to give thekey of Rome into the hands of the Pope. A new Vatican began to rise, andthe foundations of a nobler S. Peter's Church were laid within thecircuit of the Papal domain. Nicholas had, in fact, conceived the greatidea of restoring the supremacy of Rome, not after the fashion of aHildebrand, by enforcing the spiritual despotism of the Papacy, but byestablishing the Popes as kings, by renewing the architecturalmagnificence of the Eternal City, and by rendering his court the centerof European culture. In the will which he recited on his death-bed tothe princes of the Church, he set forth all that he had done for thesecular and ecclesiastical architecture of Rome, explaining his deepsense of the necessity of securing the Popes from internal revolutionand external force, together with his desire to exalt the Church byrendering her chief seat splendid in the eyes of Christendom. Thistestament of Nicholas remains a memorable document. Nothing illustratesmore forcibly the transition from the Middle Ages to the worldliness ofthe Renaissance than the conviction of the Pontiff that the destinies ofChristianity depended on the state and glory of the town of Rome. Whathe began was carried on amid crime, anarchy, and bloodshed by successivePopes of the Renaissance, until at last the troops of Frundsberg pavedthe way, in 1527, for the Jesuits of Loyola, and Rome, still the EternalCity, cloaked her splendor and her scandals beneath the black pall ofSpanish inquisitors. The political changes in the Papacy initiated byNicholas had been, however, by that date fully accomplished, and formore than three centuries the Popes have since held rank among the kingsof the earth. 

 [1] The bank of the Medici alone held 100, 000 florins for the Pope. Vespasiano, _Vit, Nic. V. _

Of Alfonso Borgia, who reigned for three years as Calixtus III. , littleneed be said, except that his pontificate prepared for the greatness ofhis nephew, Roderigo Lenzuoli, known as Borgia in compliment to hisuncle. The last days of Nicholas had been imbittered by the fall ofConstantinople and the imminent peril which threatened Europe from theTurks. The whole energies of Pius II. Were directed towards the one endof uniting the European nations against the infidel. Æneas SylviusPiccolomini, as an author, an orator, a diplomatist, a traveller, and acourtier, bears a name illustrious in the annals of the Renaissance. Asa Pope, he claims attention for the single-hearted zeal which hedisplayed in the vain attempt to rouse the piety of Christendom againstthe foes of civilization and the faith. Rarely has a greater contrastbeen displayed between the man and the pontiff than in the case of Pius. The pleasure-loving, astute, free-thinking man of letters and the worldhas become a Holy Father, jealous for Christian proprieties, and bent onstirring Europe by an appeal to motives which had lost their force threecenturies before. Frederick II. And S. Louis closed the age of theCrusades, the one by striking a bargain with the infidel, the other bysnatching at a martyr's crown. Æneas Sylvius Piccolomini was the mirrorof his times--a humanist and stylist, imbued with the rhetorical andpseudo-classic taste of the earlier Renaissance. Pius II. Is almost ananachronism. The disappointment which the learned world experienced whenthey discovered that the new Pope, from whom so much had been expected, declined to play the part of their Mæcenas, may be gathered from theepigrams of Filelfo upon his death[1]:--

 Gaudeat orator, Musæ gaudete Latinæ; Sustulit e medio quod Deus ipse Pium. Ut bene consuluit doctis Deus omnibus æque, Quos Pius in cunctos se tulit usque gravem. Nunc sperare licet. Nobis Deus optime Quintum Reddito Nicoleon Eugeniumve patrem. 

and again:--

 Hac sibi quam vivus construxit clauditur arca Corpore; nam Stygios mens habet atra lacus. 

Pius himself was not unconscious of the discrepancy between his old andhis new self. _Æneam rejicite, Pium recipite_, he exclaims in acelebrated passage of his Retractation, where he declares his heartfeltsorrow for the irrevocable words of light and vain romance that he hadscattered in his careless youth. Yet though Pius II. Proved a virtualfailure by lacking the strength to lead his age either backwards to theideal of earlier Christianity or forwards on the path of modern culture, he is the last Pope of the Renaissance period whom we can regard withreal respect. Those who follow, and with whose personal characters, rather than their action as Pontiffs, we shall now be principallyoccupied, sacrificed the interests of Christendom to family ambition, secured their sovereignty at the price of discord in Italy, transactedwith the infidel, and played the part of Antichrist upon the theater ofEurope. 

 [1] Rosmini, _Vita di Filelfo_, vol. Ii. P. 321. 

It would be possible to write the history of these priest-kings withoutdwelling more than lightly on scandalous circumstances, to merge thecourt-chronicle of the Vatican in a recital of European politics, or tohide the true features of high Papal dignitaries beneath the masksconstructed for them by ecclesiastical apologists. That cannot, however, be the line adopted by a writer treating of civilization in Italy duringthe fifteenth and sixteenth centuries. He must paint the Popes of theRenaissance as they appeared in the midst of society, when Lorenzo de'Medici called Rome 'a sink of all the vices, ' and observers so competentas Machiavelli and Guicciardini ascribed the moral depravity andpolitical decay of Italy to their influence. It might be objected thatthere is now no need to portray the profligacy of that court, which, byarousing the conscience of Northern Europe to a sense of intolerableshame, proved one of the main causes of the Reformation. But withoutreviewing those old scandals, a true understanding of Italian morality, and a true insight into Italian social feeling as expressed inliterature, are alike impossible. Nor will the historian of this epochshrink from his task, even though the transactions he has to record seemto savor of legend rather than of simple fact. No fiction containsmatter more fantastic, no myth or allegory is more adapted to express atruth in figures of the fancy, than the authentic well-attested annalsof this period of seventy years, from 1464 to 1534. 

Paul the Second was a Venetian named Pietro Barbi, who began life as amerchant. He had already shipped his worldly goods on board a tradingvessel for a foreign trip, when news reached him that his uncle had beenmade Pope under the name of Eugenius IV. His call to the ministryconsisted of the calculation that he could make his fortune in theChurch with a Pope for uncle sooner than on the high seas by his wits. So he unloaded his bales, took to his book, became a priest, and at theage of forty-eight rose to the Papacy. Being a handsome man, he was fainto take the ecclesiastical title of Formosus; but the Cardinalsdissuaded him from this parade of vanity, and he assumed the tiara asPaul in 1464. A vulgar love of show was his ruling characteristic. Hespent enormous sums in the collection of jewels, and his tiara alone wasvalued at 200, 000 golden florins. In all public ceremonies, whetherecclesiastical or secular, he was splendid, delighting equally to sunhimself before the eyes of the Romans as the chief actor in an Easterbenediction or a Carnival procession. The poorer Cardinals receivedsubsidies from his purse in order that they might add luster to hispageants by their retinues. The arts found in him munificent patron. Forthe building of the palace of S. Marco, which marks an abrupt departurefrom the previous Gothic style in vogue, he brought architects ofeminence to Rome, and gave employment to Mino da Fiesole, the sculptor, and to Giuliano da San Gallo, the wood-carver. The arches of Titus andSeptimius Severus were restored at his expense, together with the statueof Marcus Aurelius and the horses of Monte Cavallo. But Paul showed hisconnoisseurship more especially in the collection of gems, medals, precious stones, and cameos, accumulating rare treasures of antiquityand costly masterpieces of Italian and Flemish gold-work in hiscabinets. This patronage of contemporary art, no less than theappreciation of classical monuments, marked him as a Mæcenas of the trueRenaissance type. [1] But the qualities of a dilettante were notcalculated to shed luster on a Pontiff who spent the substance of theChurch in heaping up immensely valuable curiosities. His thirst for goldand his love of hoarding were so extreme that, when bishoprics fellvacant, he often refused to fill them up, drawing their revenues for hisown use. His court was luxurious, and in private he was addicted tosensual lust. [2] This would not, however, have brought his name into badodor in Rome, where the Holy Father was already regarded as an Italiandespot with certain sacerdotal additions. It was his prosecution of thePlatonists which made him unpopular in an age when men had the right toexpect that, whatever happened, learning at least would be respected. The example of the Florentine and Neapolitan academies had encouragedthe Romans to found a society for the discussion of philosophicalquestions. The Pope conceived that a political intrigue was the realobject of this club. Nor was the suspicion wholly destitute of color. The conspiracy of Porcari against Nicholas, and the Catilinarian riotsof Tiburzio which had troubled the pontificate of Pius, were still freshin people's memories; nor was the position of the Pope in Rome as yet byany means secure. What increased Paul's anxiety was the fact that somescholars, appointed secretaries of the briefs (Abbreviatori) by Pius anddeprived of office by himself, were members of the Platonic Society. Their animosity against him was both natural and ill-concealed. At thesame time the bitter hatred avowed by Laurentius Valla against thetemporal power might in an age of conjurations have meant active malice. Leo Alberti hints that Porcari had been supported by strong backersoutside Rome; and one of the accusations against the Platonists was thatPomponius Lætus had addressed Platina as Holy Father. Now both PomponiusLætus and Valla had influence in Naples, while Paul was on the verge ofopen rupture with King Ferdinand. He therefore had sufficient groundsfor suspecting a Neapolitan intrigue, in which the humanists wereplaying the parts of Brutus and Cassius. Yet though we take this troubleto construct some show of reason for the panic of the Pope, the factremains that he was really mistaken at the outset; and of the stupidity, cruelty, and injustice of his subsequent conduct there can be no doubt. He seized the chief members of the Roman Academy, imprisoned them, putthem to the torture, and killed some of them upon the rack. 'You wouldhave taken Castle S. Angelo for Phalaris' bull, ' writes Platina; 'thehollow vaults did so resound with the cries of innocent young men. ' Noevidence of a conspiracy could be extorted. Then Paul tried thesurvivors for unorthodoxy. They proved the soundness of their faith tothe satisfaction of the Pope's inquisitors. Nothing remained but torelease them, or to shut them up in dungeons, in order that the peoplemight not say the Holy Father had arrested them without due cause. Thelatter course was chosen. Platina, the historian of the Popes, was oneof the _abbreviatori_ whom Paul had cashiered, and one of the Platonistswhom he had tortured. The tale of Papal persecution loses, therefore, nothing in the telling; for if the humanists of the fifteenth centurywere powerful in anything it was in writing innuendoes and invectives. Among other anecdotes, he relates how, while he was being dislocated onthe rack, the inquisitors Vianesi and Sanga held a sprightly colloquyabout a ring which the one said jestingly the other had received as alove-token from a girl. The whole situation is characteristic of PapalRome in the Renaissance. 

 [1] See _Les Arts à la Cour des Papes pendant le XV. Et le XVI. Siècles_, E. Müntz, Paris, Thorin, 2me Partie. M. Müntz has done good service to æsthetic archæology by vindicating the fame of Paul II. As an employer of artists from the wholesale abuse heaped on him by Platina. It may here be conveniently noticed that even the fierce Sixtus IV. Showed intelligence as a patron of arts and letters. He built the Sistine Chapel, and brought the greatest painters of the day to Rome--Signorelli, Perugino, Botticelli, Cosimo, Rosselli, and Ghirlandajo. Melozzo da Forlì worked for him. One of that painter's few remaining masterpieces is the wall-picture, now in the Vatican, which represents Sixtus among his Cardinals and Secretaries--a magnificent piece of vivid portraiture. Sixtus again threw the Vatican library open to the public, and In his days the Confraternity of S. Luke was founded for the encouragement of design. Rome owes to him the hospital of S. Spirito, a severe building, by Baccio Pontelli, and the churches of S. Maria del Popolo and S. Maria della Pace. Innocent VIII. Added the Belvedere to the Vatican after Antonio del Pollajuolo's plan, and commenced the Villa Magliana. Alexander VI. Enriched the Vatican with the famous Borgia apartments, decorated by Pinturhicchio. He also began the Palace of the University, and converted the Mausoleum of Hadrian into the Castle of S. Angelo. These brief allusions must suffice. It is not the object of the present chapter to treat of the Popes as patrons; but it should not be forgotten that, having accepted a place among the despots of Italy, they strove to acquit their debt to art and learning in the spirit of contemporary potentates. 

 [2] Corio sums up his character thus: 'Fu costui uomo alla libidine molto proclivo; in grandissimo precio furono le gioie appresso di lui. Del giorno faceva notte, e la notte ispediva quanto gli occorreva. ' Marcus Attilius Alexius says: 'Paulus II. Ex concubiná domum replevit, et quasi sterquilinium facta est sedes Barionis. ' See Gregorovius, _Stadt Rom_, vol. Vii. P. 215, for the latter quotation. 

Paul did not live as long as his comparative youth led people toanticipate. He died of apoplexy in 1471, alone and suddenly, aftersupping on two huge watermelons, _duos prægrandes pepones_. Hissuccessor was a man of base extraction, named Francesco della Rovere, born near the town of Savona on the Genoese Riviera. It was his whim tobe thought noble; so he bought the goodwill of the ancient house ofRovere of Turin by giving them two cardinals' hats, and proclaimedhimself their kinsman. Theirs is the golden oak-tree on an azure groundwhich Michael Angelo painted on the roof of the Sistine Chapel incompliment to Sixtus and his nephew Julius. Having bribed the most venalmembers of the Sacred College, Francesco della Rovere was elected Pope, and assumed the name of Sixtus IV. He began his career with a lie; forthough he succeeded to the avaricious Paul who had spent his time inamassing money which he did not use, he declared that he had only found5, 000 florins in the Papal treasury. This assertion was proved false bythe prodigality with which he lavished wealth immediately upon hisnephews. It is difficult even to hint at the horrible suspicions whichwere cast upon the birth of two of the Pope's nephews and upon thenature of his weakness for them. Yet the private life of Sixtus renderedthe most monstrous stories plausible, while his public treatment ofthese men recalled to mind the partiality of Nero for Doryphorus. [1] Wemay, however, dwell upon the principal features of his nepotism; forSixtus was the first Pontiff who deliberately organized a system forpillaging the Church in order to exalt his family to principalities. Theweakness of this policy has already been exposed[2]: its justification, if there is any, lies in the exigencies of a dynasty which had nolegitimate or hereditary succession. The names of the Pope's nephewswere Lionardo, Giuliano, and Giovanni della Rovere, the three sons ofhis brother Raffaello; Pietro and Girolamo Riario, the two sons of hissister Jolanda; and Girolamo, the son of another sister married toGiovanni Basso. With the notable exception of Giuliano della Rovere, [3]these young men had no claim to distinction beyond good looks and acertain martial spirit which ill suited with the ecclesiasticaldignities thrust upon some of them. Lionardo was made prefect of Romeand married to a natural daughter of King Ferdinand of Naples. Giulianoreceived a Cardinal's hat, and, after a tempestuous warfare with theintervening Popes, ascended the Holy Chair as Julius II. Girolamo Bassowas created Cardinal of San Crisogono in 1477, and died in 1507. Girolamo Riario wedded Catherine, a natural daughter of Galeazzo Sforza. For him the Pope in 1473 bought the town of Imola with money of theChurch, and, after adding to it Forli, made Girolamo a Duke. He wasmurdered by his subjects in the latter place in 1488, not, however, before he had founded a line of princes. Pietro, another nephew of theRiario blood, or, as scandal then reported and Muratori has sincebelieved, a son of the Pope himself, was elevated at the age oftwenty-six to the dignities of Cardinal, Patriarch of Constantinople, and Archbishop of Florence. He had no virtues, no abilities, nothing buthis beauty, the scandalous affection of the Pope, and the extravagantprofligacy of his own life to recommend him to the notice of posterity. All Italy during two years rang with the noise of his debaucheries. Hisofficial revenues were estimated at 60, 000 golden florins; but in hisshort career of profligate magnificence he managed to squander a sumreckoned at not less than 200, 000. When Leonora of Aragon passed throughRome on her way to wed the Marquis of Ferrara, this fop of a Patriarcherected a pavilion in the Piazza de' Santi Apostoli for herentertainment. [4] The square was partitioned into chambers communicatingwith the palace of the Cardinal. The ordinary hangings were of velvetand of white and crimson silk, while one of the apartments was drapedwith the famous tapestries of Nicholas V. , which represented theCreation of the World. All the utensils in this magic dwelling were ofsilver--even to the very vilest. The air of the banquet-hall was cooledwith punkahs; _ire mantici coperti, che facevano continoamemte vento_, are the words of Corio; and on a column in the center stood a livingnaked gilded boy, who poured forth water from an urn. The description ofthe feast takes up three pages of the history of Corio, where we find aminute list of the dishes--wild boars and deer and peacocks, roastedwhole; peeled oranges, gilt and sugared; gilt rolls; rosewater forwashing; and the tales of Perseus, Atalanta, Hercules, etc. , I wroughtin pastry--_tutte in vivande_. We are also told how masques of Hercules, Jason, and Phædra alternated with the story of Susannah and the Elders, played by Florentine actors, and with the Mysteries of _San GiovanBattista decapitato_ and _quel Giudeo che rosfi il corpo di Cristo_. Theservants were arrayed in silk, and the seneschal changed his dress ofrichest stuffs and jewels four times in the course of the banquet. Nymphs and centaurs, singers and buffoons, drank choice wine from goldengoblets. The most eminent and reverend master of the palace, meanwhile, moved among his guests 'like some great Cæsar's son. ' The wholeentertainment lasted from Saturday till Thursday, during which timeErcole of Este and his bride assisted at Church ceremonies in S. Peter's, and visited the notabilities of Rome in the intervals of games, dances, and banquets of the kind described. We need scarcely add that, in spite of his enormous wealth, the young Cardinal died 60, 000 florinsin debt. Happily for the Church and for Italy, he expired at Rome inJanuary 1474, after parading his impudent debaucheries through Milan andVenice as the Pope's Legate. It was rumored, but never wellauthenticated, that the Venetians helped his death by poison. [5] Thesensual indulgences of every sort in which this child of theproletariat, suddenly raised to princely splendor, wallowed fortwenty-five continuous months, are enough to account for his immaturedeath without the hypothesis of poisoning. With him expired a plan whichmight have ended in making the Papacy a secular, hereditary kingdom. During his stay at Milan, Pietro struck a bargain with the Duke, by theterms of which Galeazzo Maria Sforza was to be crowned king of Lombardy, while the Cardinal Legate was to return and seize upon the Papalthrone. [6] Sixtus, it is said, was willing to abdicate in his nephew'sfavor, with a view to the firmer establishment of his family in thetyranny of Rome. The scheme was a wild one, yet, considering the powerand wealth of the Sforza family, not so wholly impracticable as mightappear. The same dream floated, a few years later, before theimagination of the two Borgias; and Machiavelli wrote in his calm stylethat to make the Papal power hereditary was all that remained fornepotism in his days to do. [7] The opinion which had been conceived ofthe Cardinal of San Sisto during his two years of eminence may begathered from the following couplets of an epigram placed, as Corioinforms us, on his tomb:--

 Fur, scortum, leno, moechus, pedico, cynædus, Et scurra, et fidicen cedat ab Italiâ: Namque illa Ausonii pestis scelerata senatûs, Petrus, ad infernas est modo raptus aquas. 

After the death of Pietro, Sixtus took his last nephew, Giovanni dellaRovere, into like favor. He was married to Giovanna, daughter ofFederigo di Montefeltro, Duke of Urbino, and created Duke of Sinigaglia. Afterwards he became Prefect of Rome, upon the death of his brotherLionardo. This man founded the second dynasty in the Dukedom of Urbino. The plebeian violence of the della Rovere temper reached a climax inGiovanni's son, the Duke Francesco Maria, who murdered his sister'slover with his own hand when a youth of sixteen, stabbed the PapalLegate to death in the streets of Bologna at the age of twenty, andknocked Guicciardini, the historian, down with a blow of his fist duringa council of war in 1526. 

 [1] The infamous stories about Sixtus and Alexander may in part be fables, currently reported by the vulgar and committed to epigrams by scholars. Still the fact remains that Infessura, Burchard, and the Venetian ambassadors relate of these two Popes such traits of character and such abominable actions as render the worst calumnies probable. Infessura, though he expressed horror for the crimes of Sixtus, was yet a dry chronicler of daily events, many of which passed beneath his own eyes, Burchurd was a frigid diarist of Court ceremonies, who reported the rapes, murders, and profligacies of Alexander with phlegmatic gravity. The evidence of these men, neither of whom indulges in satire strictly so called, is more valuable than that of Tacitus or Suetonius to the vices of the Roman emperors. The dispatches of the Venetian ambassadors, again, are trustworthy, seeing they were always written with political intention and not for the sake of gossip. 

 [2] See ch. Iii. P. 113. 

 [3] As Julius II. , by far the greatest name in his age. Yet even Giuliano did not at first impress men with his power. Jacobus Volaterranus (Mur. Xxiii. 107) writes of him: 'Vir est naturæ duriusculæ, ac uti ingenii, mediocris literaturæ. '

 [4] For what follows read Corio, _Storia di Milano_, pp. 417-20. 

 [5] Mach. _1st. Fior_. Lib. Vii. ; Corio, p. 420. 

 [6] See Corio, p. 420. Corio hints that the Venetians poisoned the Cardinal for fear of this convention being carried out. 

 [7] _1st. Fior_, lib. I. Vol. I. P. 38. 

Sixtus, however, while thus providing for his family, could not enjoylife without some youthful protégé about his person. Accordingly in 1463he made his valet, a lad of no education and of base birth, Cardinal andBishop of Parma at the age of twenty. His merit was the beauty of ayoung Olympian. With this divine gift he luckily combined a harmlessthough stupid character. 

With all these favorites to plant out in life, the Pope was naturallyshort of money. He relied on two principal methods for replenishing hiscoffers. One was the public sale of places about the Court at Rome, eachof which had its well-known price. [1] Benefices were disposed of withrather more reserve and privacy, for simony had not yet come to beconsidered venial. Yet it was notorious that Sixtus held no privilegewithin his pontifical control on which he was not willing to raisemoney: 'Our churches, priests, altars, sacred rites, our prayers, ourheaven, our very God, are purchasable!' exclaims a scholar of the time;while the Holy Father himself was wont to say, 'A pope needs only penand ink to get what sum he wants. '[2] The second great financialexpedient was the monopoly of corn throughout the Papal States. Fictitious dearths were created; the value of wheat was raised to famineprices; good grain was sold out of the kingdom, and bad imported inexchange; while Sixtus forced his subjects to purchase from his stores, and made a profit by the hunger and disease of his emaciated provinces. Ferdinand, the King of Naples, practiced the same system in the south. It is worth while to hear what this bread was like from one of the mencondemned to eat it: 'The bread made from the corn of which I havespoken was black, stinking, and abominable; one was obliged to consumeit, and from this cause sickness frequently took hold upon theState. '[3]

 [1] The greatest ingenuity was displayed in promoting this market. Infessura writes: 'Multa et inexcogitata in Curia Romana officia adinvenit et vendidit, ' p. 1183. 

 [2] Baptista Mantuanus, _de Calamitatibus Temporum_, lib. Iii. 

 Venalia nobis Templa, sacerdotes, altaria, sacra, coronæ, Ignes, thura, preces, coelum est venale, Deusque. 

 Soriano, the Venetian ambassador, ap. Alberi ii. 3, p. 330, writes: 'Conviene ricordarsi quello che soleva dire Sisto IV. , che al papa bastava solo la mano con la penna e l'inchiostro, per avere quella somma che vuole. ' Cp. Aen. Sylv. Picc. _Ep_. I. 66: 'Nihil est quod absque argento Romana Curia dedat; nam et ipsæ manus impositiones et Spiritus Sancti dona venduntur, nec peccatorum venia nisi nummatis impenditur. '

 [3] Infessura, _Eccardus_, vol. Ii. P. 1941: 'Panis vero qui ex dicto frumento fiebat, erat ater, foetidus, et abominabilis; e ex necessitate comedebatur, ex quo sæpenumero in civitate morbus viguit. '

But Christendom beheld in Sixtus not merely the spectacle of a Pope whotrafficked in the bodies of his subjects and the holy things of God, tosquander basely gotten gold upon abandoned minions. The peace of Italywas destroyed by desolating wars in the advancement of the sameworthless favorites, Sixtus desired to annex Ferrara to the dominions ofGirolamo Riario. Nothing stood in his way but the House of Este, firmlyplanted for centuries, and connected by marriage or alliance with allthe chief families of Italy. The Pope, whose lust for blood and broilswas only equaled by his avarice and his libertinism, [1] rushed with wilddelight into a project which involved the discord of the wholePeninsula. He made treaties with Venice and unmade them, stirred up allthe passions of the despots and set them together by the ears, calledthe Swiss mercenaries into Lombardy, and when finally, tired of fightingfor his nephew, the Italian powers concluded the peace of Bagnolo, hedied of rage in 1484. The Pope did actually die of disappointed furybecause peace had been restored to the country he had mangled for thesake of a favorite nephew. 

 [1] This phrase requires support. Infessura (loc. Cit. P. 1941) relates the savage pleasure with which Sixtus watched a combat 'a steccato chiuso. ' Hearing that a duel to the death was to be fought by two bands of his body-guard, he told them to choose the Piazza of S. Peter for their rendezvous. Then he appeared at a window, blessed the combatants, and crossed himself as a signal for the battle to begin. We who think the ring, the cockpit, and the bullfight barbarous, should study Pollajuolo's engraving in order to imagine the horrors of a duel 'a steccato chiuso. ' Of the inclination of Sixtus to sensuality, Infessura writes: 'Hic, ut fertur vulgo, et experientia demonstravit, puerorum amator et sodomita fuit. ' After mentioning the Riarii and a barber's son, aged twelve, he goes on: 'taceo nunc alia, quæ circa hoc possent recitari, quia visa sunt de continuo. ' It was not, perhaps, a wholly Protestant calumny which accused Sixtus of granting private indulgences for the commission of abominable crimes in certain seasons of the year. 

The crime of Sixtus which most vividly paints the corruption of thePapacy in his age remains still to be told. This was the sanction of thePazzi Conjuration against Giuliano and Lorenzo de' Medici. In the year1477 the Medici, after excluding the merchant princes of the Pazzifamily from the magistracy at Florence and otherwise annoying them, haddriven Francesco de' Pazzi in disgust to Rome. Sixtus chose him for hisbanker in the place of the Medicean Company. He became intimate withGirolamo Riario, and was well received at the Papal Court. Politicalreasons at this moment made the Pope and his nephew anxious to destroythe Medici, who opposed Girolamo's schemes of aggrandizement inLombardy. Private rancor induced Francesco de' Pazzi to second theirviews and to stimulate their passion. The three between them hatched aplot which was joined by Salviati, Archbishop of Pisa, another privatefoe of the Medici, and by Giambattista Montesecco, a captain wellaffected to the Count Girolamo. The first design of the conspirators wasto lure the brothers Medici to Rome, and to kill them there. But theyoung men were too prudent to leave Florence. Pazzi and Salviati thenproceeded to Tuscany, hoping either at a banquet or in church to succeedin murdering their two enemies together. Bernardo Bandini, a man ofblood by trade, and Francesco de' Pazzi were chosen to assassinateGiuliano. Giambattista Montesecco undertook to dispose of Lorenzo. [1]The 26th of April 1478 was finally fixed for the deed. The placeselected was the Duomo. [2] The elevation of the Host at Mass-time wasto be the signal. Both the Medici arrived. The murderers embracedGiuliano and discovered that this timid youth had left his secret coatof mail at home. But a difficulty, which ought to have been foreseen, arose. Monteseoco, cut-throat as he was, refused to stab Lorenzo beforethe high altar: at the last moment some sense of the _religio loci_dashed his courage. Two priests were then discovered who had no suchsilly scruples. In the words of an old chronicle, 'Another man wasfound, who, _being a priest_, was more accustomed to the place andtherefore less superstitious about its sanctity. ' This, however, spoiledall. The priests, though more sacrilegious than the bravos, were lessused to the trade of assassination. They failed to strike home. Giuliano, it is true, was stabbed to death by Bernardo Bandini andFrancesco de' Pazzi at the very moment of the elevation of Christ'sbody. But Lorenzo escaped with a slight flesh-wound. The wholeconspiracy collapsed. In the retaliation which the infuriated people ofFlorence took upon the murderers, the Archbishop Salviati, together withJacopo and Francesco de' Pazzi and some others among the principalconspirators, were hung from the windows of the Palazzo Pubblico. Forthis act of violence to the sacred person of a traitorous priest, Sixtus, who had upon his own conscience the crime of mingled treason, sacrilege, and murder, ex-communicated Florence, and carried on foryears a savage war with the Republic. It was not until 1481, when thedescent of the Turks upon Otranto made him tremble for his own safety, that he chose to make peace with these enemies whom he had himselfprovoked and plotted against. 

 [1] His 'Confession, ' printed by Fabroni, _Lorenzi Medicis Vita_, vol. Ii. P. 168, gives an interesting account of the hatching of the plot. It is fair to Sixtus to say that Montesecco exculpates him of the design to murder the Medici. He only wanted to ruin them. 

 [2] It is curious to note how many of the numerous Italian tyrannicides took place in church. The Chiavelli of Fabriano were murdered during a solemn service in 1435; the sentence of the creed 'Et incarnatus est' was chosen for the signal. Gian Maria Visconti was killed in San Gottardo (1412), Galeazzo Maria Sforza in San Stefano (1484). Lodovico Moro only just escaped assassination in Sant' Ambrogio (1484). Machiavelli says that Lorenzo de' Medici's life was attempted by Batista Frescobaldi in the Carmine (see _1st. Fior. _ book viii. Near the end). The Bagliani of Perugia were to have been massacred during the marriage festival of Astorre with Lavinia Colonna(1500). Stefano Porcari intended to capture Nicholas V. At the great gate of S. Peter's (1453). The only chance of catching cautious princes off their guard was when they were engaged in high solemnities. See above, p. 168. 

Another peculiarity in the Pontificate of Sixtus deserves specialmention. It was under his auspices in the year 1478 that the Inquisitionwas founded in Spain for the extermination of Jews, Moors, andChristians with a taint of heresy. During the next four years 2, 000victims were burned in the province of Castile. In Seville, a plot ofground, called the Quemadero, or place of burning--a new Aceldama--wasset apart for executions; and here in one year 280 heretics werecommitted to the flames, while 79 were condemned to perpetualimprisonment, and 17, 000 to lighter punishments of various kinds. InAndalusia alone 5, 000 houses were at once abandoned by theirinhabitants. Then followed in 1492 the celebrated edict against theJews. Before four months had expired the whole Jewish population werebidden to leave Spain, carrying with them nothing in the shape of goldor silver. To convert their property into bills of exchange and movableswas their only resource. The market speedily was glutted: a house wasgiven for an ass, a vineyard for a suit of clothes. Vainly did thepersecuted race endeavor to purchase a remission of the sentence by thepayment of an exorbitant ransom. Torquemada appeared before Ferdinandand his consort, raising the crucifix, and crying: 'Judas sold Christfor 30 pieces of silver; sell ye him for a larger sum, and account forthe same to God!' The exodus began. Eight hundred thousand Jews leftSpain[1]--some for the coast of Africa, where the Arabs ripped theirbodies up in search for gems or gold they might have swallowed, anddeflowered their women--some for Portugal, where they bought the rightto exist for a large head-tax, and where they saw their sons anddaughters dragged away to baptism before their eyes. Others were sold asslaves, or had to satisfy the rapacity of their persecutors with thebodies of their children. Many flung themselves into the wells, andsought to bury despair in suicide. The Mediterranean was covered withfamine-stricken and plague-breeding fleets of exiles. Putting into thePort of Genoa, they were refused leave to reside in the city, and diedby hundreds in the harbor. [2] Their festering bodies, bred a pestilencealong the whole Italian sea-board, of which at Naples alone 20, 000persons died. Flitting from shore to shore, these forlorn specters, thevictims of bigotry and avarice, everywhere pillaged and everywhererejected, dwindled away and disappeared. Meanwhile the orthodoxrejoiced. Pico della Mirandola, who spent his life in reconciling Platowith the Cabala, finds nothing more to say than this: 'The sufferings ofthe Jews, in which the glory of the Divine justice delighted, were soextreme as to fill us Christians with commiseration. ' With these wordswe may compare the following passage from Senarega: 'The matter at firstsight seemed praiseworthy, as regarding the honor done to our religion;yet it involved some amount of cruelty, if we look upon them, not asbeasts, but as men, the handiwork of God. ' A critic of this century canonly exclaim with stupefaction: _Tantum religio potuit suadere malorum!_Thus Spain began to devour and depopulate herself. The curse which fellupon the Jew and Moor descended next upon philosopher and patriot. Thevery life of the nation, in its commerce, its industry, its freethought, its energy of character, was deliberately and steadilythrottled. And at no long interval of time the blight of Spain wasdestined to descend on Italy, paralyzing the fair movements of hermanifold existence to a rigid uniformity, shrouding the light and colorof her art and letters in the blackness of inquisitorial gloom. 

 [1] This number is perhaps exaggerated. Limborch in his _History of the Inquisition_ (p. 83) gives both 800, 000 and 400, 000; he also speaks of 170, 000 _families_ as one calculation. 

 [2] Senarega's account of the entry of the Jews into Genoa is truly awful. He was an eye-witness of what he relates. The passage may be read in Prescott's _Ferdinand and Isabella_, chapter 17. 

Most singular is the attitude of a Sixtus--indulging his lust and pridein the Vatican, adorning the chapel called after his name withmasterpieces, [1] rending Italy with broils for the aggrandizement offavorites, haggling over the prices to be paid for bishoprics, extortingmoney from starved provinces, plotting murder against his enemies, hounding the semi-barbarous Swiss mountaineers on Milan by indulgences, refusing aid to Venice in her championship of Christendom against theTurk--yet meanwhile thinking to please God by holocausts of Moors, bymyriads of famished Jews, conferring on a faithless and avariciousFerdinand the title of Catholic, endeavoring to wipe out his sins by theblood of others, to burn his own vices in the _autos da fé_ of Seville, and by the foundation of that diabolical engine the Inquisition tosecure the fabric his own infamy was undermining. [2] This is not thelanguage of a Protestant denouncing the Pope. With all respect for theRoman Church, that Alma Mater of the Middle Ages, that august andvenerable monument of immemorial antiquity, we cannot close our eyes tothe contradictions between practice and pretension upon which theHistory of the Italian Renaissance throws a light so lurid. 

 [1] Musing beneath the Sibyls and before the Judgment of Michael Angelo, it is difficult not to picture to the fancy the arraignment of the Popes who built and beautified that chapel, when the Christ, whose blood they sold, should appear with His menacing right arm uplifted, and the prophets should thunder their denunciations: 'Howl, ye shepherds, and cry; and wallow yourselves in the ashes, ye principal of the flock, for the days of your slaughter and your dispersions are accomplished. '

 [2] The same incongruity appears also in Innocent VIII. , whose bull against witchcraft (1484) systematized the persecution directed against unfortunate old women and idiots. Sprenger, in the _Malleus Maleficarum_, mentions that in the first year after its publication forty-one witches were burned in the district of Como, while crowds of suspected women took refuge in the province of the Archduke Sigismond. Cantù's _Storia della Diocesi di Como_ (Le Monnier, 2 vols. ) may be consulted for the persecution of witches in Valtellina and Val Camonica. Cp. Folengo's _Maccaronea_ for the prevalence of witchcraft in those districts. 

After Sixtus IV. Came Innocent VIII. His secular name was GiambattistaCibo. The sacred College, terrified by the experience of Sixtus intothinking that another Pope, so reckless in his creation of scandalousCardinals, might ruin Christendom, laid the most solemn obligations onthe Pope elect. Cibo took oaths on every relic, by every saint, to everymember of the conclave, that he would maintain a certain order ofappointment and a purity of election in the Church. No Cardinal underthe age of thirty, not more than one of the Pope's own blood, nonewithout the rank of Doctor of Theology or Law, were to be elected, andso forth. But as soon as the tiara was on his head, he renounced themall as inconsistent with the rights and liberties of S. Peter's Chair. Engagements made by the man might always be broken by the Pope. OfInnocent's Pontificate little need be said. He was the first Popepublicly to acknowledge his seven children, and to call them sons anddaughters. [1] Avarice, venality, sloth, and the ascendency of basefavorites made his reign loathsome without the blaze and splendor of thescandals of his fiery predecessor. In corruption he advanced a stepeven beyond Sixtus, by establishing a Bank at Rome for the sale ofpardons. [2] Each sin had its price, which might be paid at theconvenience of the criminal: 150 ducats of the tax were poured into thePapal coffers; the surplus fell to Franceschetto, the Pope's son. Thisinsignificant princeling, for whom the county of Anguillara waspurchased, showed no ability or ambition for aught but getting andspending money. He was small of stature and tame-spirited: yet thedestinies of an important house of Europe depended on him; for hisfather married him to Maddalena, the daughter of Lorenzo de' Medici, in1487. This led to Giovanni de' Medici receiving a Cardinal's hat at theage of thirteen, and thus the Medicean interest in Rome was founded; inthe course of a few years the Medici gave two Popes to the Holy See, andby their ecclesiastical influence riveted the chains of Florencefast. [3] The traffic which Innocent and Franceschetto carried on intheft and murder filled the Campagna with brigands and assassins. [4]Travelers and pilgrims and ambassadors were stripped and murdered ontheir way to Rome; and in the city itself more than two hundred peoplewere publicly assassinated with impunity during the last months of thePope's life. He was gradually dozing off into his last long sleep, andFranceschetto was planning how to carry off his ducats. While the HolyFather still hovered between life and death, a Jewish doctor proposed toreinvigorate him by the transfusion of young blood into his torpidveins. Three boys throbbing with the elixir of early youth weresacrificed in vain. Each boy, says Infessura, received one ducat. Headds, not without grim humor: 'Et paulo post mortui sunt; Judæus quidemaufugit, et Papa non sanatus est. ' The epitaph of this poor old Popereads like a rather clever but blasphemous witticism: 'Ego autem inInnocentiâ meâ ingressus sum. '

 [1] 'Primus pontificum filios filiasque palam ostentavit, primus eorum apertas fecit nuptias, primus domesticos hymenæos celebravit. ' Egidius of Viterbo, quoted by Greg. _Stadt Rom_, vol. Vii. P. 274, note. 

 [2] Infessura says he heard the Vice-chancellor, when asked why criminals were allowed to pay instead of being punished, answer: 'God wills not the death of a sinner, but rather that he should pay and live. ' Dominico di Viterbo, Apostolic Scribe, forged bulls by which the Pope granted indulgences for the commission of the worst scandals. His father tried to buy him off for 5, 000 ducats. Innocent replied that, as his honor was concerned, he must have 6, 000. The poor father could not scrape so much money together; so the bargain fell through, and Dominico was executed. A Roman who had killed two of his own daughters bought his pardon for 800 ducats. 

 [3] Guicciardini, i. 1. , points out that Lorenzo, having the Pope for his ally, was able to create that balance of power in Italy which it was his chief political merit to have maintained until his death. 

 [4] It is only by reading the pages of Infessura's Diary (Eccardus vol. Ii. Pp. 2003-2005) that any notion of the mixed debauchery and violence of Rome at this time can be formed. 

Meanwhile the Cardinals had not been idle. The tedious leisure ofInnocent's long lethargy was employed by them in active simony. Simony, it may be said in passing, gave the great Italian families a directinterest in the election of the richest and most paying candidate. Itserved the turn of a man like Ascanio Sforza to fatten the golden goosethat laid such eggs, before he killed it--in other words, to take thebribes of Innocent and Alexander, while deferring for a future time hisown election. All the Cardinals, with the exception of RoderigoBorgia, [1] were the creatures of Sixtus or of Innocent. Having boughttheir hats with gold, they were now disposed to sell their votes to thehighest bidder. The Borgia was the richest, strongest, wisest, and mostworldly of them all. He ascertained exactly what the price of eachsuffrage would be, and laid his plans accordingly. The Cardinal AscanioSforza, brother of the Duke of Milan, would accept the lucrative post ofVice-Chancellor. The Cardinal Orsini would be satisfied with the BorgiaPalaces at Rome and the Castles of Monticello and Saviano. The CardinalColonna had a mind for the Abbey of Subbiaco with its fortresses. TheCardinal of S. Angelo preferred the comfortable Bishopric of Porto withits palace stocked with choice wines. The Cardinal of Parma would takeNepi. The Cardinal of Genoa was bribable with the Church of S. Maria inVia Lata. Less influential members of the Conclave sold themselves forgold; to meet their demands the Borgia sent Ascanio Sforza four mulesladen with coin in open day, requesting him to distribute it in properportions to the voters. The fiery Giuliano della Rovere remainedimplacable and obdurate. In the Borgia his vehement temperamentperceived a fit antagonist. The armor which he donned in their firstencounters he never doffed, but waged fierce war with the whole brood ofBorgias at Ostia, at the French Court, in Romagna, wherever and wheneverhe found opportunity. [2] He and five other Cardinals--among them hiscousin Raphael Riario--refused to sell their votes. But Roderigo Borgia, having corrupted the rest of the college, assumed the mantle of S. Peterin 1492, with the ever-memorable title of Alexander VI. 

 [1] Roderigo was the son of Isabella Borgia, niece of Pope Calixtus III. , by her marriage with Joffré Lenzuoli. He took the name of Borgia, when he came to Rome to be made Cardinal, and to share in his uncle's greatness. 

 [2] The marriage of his nephew Nicolo della Rovere to Laura, the daughter of Alexander VI. By Giulia Bella, in 1505, long after the Borgia family had lost its hold on Italy, is a curious and unexplained incident. 

Rome rejoiced. The Holy City attired herself in festival array, exhibiting on every flag and balcony the Bull of the house of Borgia, and crying like the Egyptians when they found Apis:--

 Vive diu Bos! Vive diu Bos! Borgia vive! Vivit Alexander: Roma beata manet. 

In truth there was nothing to convince the Romans of the coming woe, orto raise suspicion that a Pope had been elected who would deserve theexecration of succeeding centuries. In Roderigo Borgia the people onlysaw, as yet, a man accomplished at all points, of handsome person, royalcarriage, majestic presence, affable address. He was a brilliant orator, a passionate lover, a demigod of court pageantry and ecclesiasticparade--qualities which, though they do not suit our notions of achurchman, imposed upon the taste of the Renaissance. As he rode intriumph toward the Lateran, voices were loud in his praise. 'He sitsupon a snow-white horse, ' writes one of the humanists of the century, [1]'with serene forehead, with commanding dignity. As he distributes hisblessing to the crowd, all eyes are fixed upon him, and all heartsrejoice. How admirable is the mild composure of his mien! how noble hiscountenance! his glance how free! His stature and carriage, his beautyand the full health of his body, how they enhance the reverence which heinspires!' Another panegyrist[2] describes his 'broad forehead, kinglybrow, free countenance full of majesty, ' adding that 'the heroic beautyof his whole body' was given him by nature in order that he might 'adornthe seat of the Apostles with his divine form in the place of God. ' Howlittle in the early days of his Pontificate the Borgia resembled thatAlexander with whom the legend of his subsequent life has familiarizedour fancy, may be gathered from the following account:[3] 'He ishandsome, of a most glad countenance and joyous aspect, gifted withhoneyed and choice eloquence; the beautiful women on whom his eyes arecast he lures to love him, and moves them in a wondrous way, morepowerfully than the magnet influences iron. ' These, we must remember, are the testimonies of men of letters, imbued with the Pagan sentimentsof the fifteenth century, and rejoicing in the advent of a Pope whowould, they hoped, make Rome the capital of luxury and license. Therefore they require to be received with caution. Yet there is noreason to suppose that the majority of the Italians regarded theelevation of the Borgia with peculiar horror. As a Cardinal he had givenproof of his ability, but shown no signs of force or cruelty or fraud. Nor were his morals worse than those of his colleagues. If he was thefather of several children, so was Giuliano della Rovere, and so hadbeen Pope Innocent before him. This mattered but little in an age whenthe Primate of Christendom had come to be regarded as a secularpotentate, less fortunate than other princes inasmuch as his rule wasnot hereditary, but more fortunate in so far as he could wield thethunders and dispense the privileges of the Church. A few men ofdiscernment knew what had been done, and shuddered. 'The king ofNaples, ' says Guicciardini, 'though he dissembled his grief, told thequeen, his wife, with tears--tears which he was wont to check even atthe death of his own sons--that a Pope had been made who would provemost pestilent to the whole Christian commonwealth. ' The young CardinalGiovanni de' Medici, again, showed his discernment of the situation bywhispering in the Conclave to his kinsman Cibo: 'We are in the wolf'sjaws; he will gulp us down, unless we make our flight good. ' Besides, there was in Italy a widely spread repugnance to the Spanishintruders--Marrani, or renegade Moors, as they were properly called--whocrowded the Vatican and threatened to possess the land of their adoptionlike conquerors. 'Ten Papacies would not suffice to satiate the greed ofall this kindred, ' wrote Giannandrea Boccaccio to the Duke of Ferrara in1492: and events proved that these apprehensions were justified; forduring the Pontificate of Alexander eighteen Spanish Cardinals werecreated, five of whom belonged to the house of the Borgias. 

 [1] See Michael Fernus, quoted by Greg. _Lucrezia Borgia_, p. 45. 

 [2] Jason Mainus, quoted by Greg, _Stadt Rom. _ p. 314, note. 

 [3] Gasp. Ver. , quoted by Greg. _Stadt Rom. _ p. 208, note. 

It is certain, however, that the profound horror with which the name ofAlexander VI. Strikes a modern ear was not felt among the Italians atthe time of his election. The sentiment of hatred with which he wasafterwards regarded arose partly from the crimes by which hisPontificate was rendered infamous, partly from the fear which his sonCesare inspired, and partly from the mysteries of his private life, which revolted even the corrupt conscience of the sixteenth century. This sentiment of hatred had grown to universal execration at the dateof his death. In course of time, when the attention of the Northernnations had been directed to the iniquities of Rome, and when theglaring discrepancy between Alexander's pretension as a Pope and hisconduct as a man had been apprehended, it inspired a legend which, likeall legends, distorts the facts which it reflects. 

Alexander was, in truth, a man eminently fitted to close an old age andto inaugurate a new, to demonstrate the paradoxical situation of thePopes by the inexorable logic of his practical impiety, and to fuse twoconflicting world-forces in the cynicism of supreme corruption. TheEmperors of the Julian house had exhibited the extreme of sensualinsolence in their autocracy. What they desired of strange and sweet andterrible in the forbidden fruits of lust, they had enjoyed. The Popes ofthe Middle Ages--Hildebrand and Boniface--had displayed the extreme ofspiritual insolence in their theocracy. What they desired of tyrannousand forceful in the exercise of an usurped despotism over souls, theyhad enjoyed. The Borgia combined both impulses toward the illimitable. To describe him as the Genius of Evil, whose sensualities, asunrestrained as Nero's, were relieved against the background of flameand smoke which Christianity had raised for fleshly sins, isjustifiable. His spiritual tyranny, that arrogated Jus, by right ofwhich he claimed the hemisphere revealed by Christopher Columbus, andimposed upon the press of Europe the censure of the Church of Rome, wasrendered ten times monstrous by the glare reflected on it from theunquenched furnace of a godless life. The universal conscience ofChristianity is revolted by those unnamable delights, orgies of bloodand festivals of lust, which were enjoyed in the plenitude of his greenand vigorous old age by this versatile diplomatist and subtle priest, who controlled the councils of kings, and who chanted the sacramentalservice for a listening world on Easter Day in Rome. Rome has never beensmall or weak or mediocre. And now in the Pontificate of Alexander 'thatmemorable scene' presented to the nations of the modern world a pageantof Antichrist and Antiphysis--the negation of the Gospel and of nature;a glaring spectacle of discord between humanity as it aspires to be atits best, and humanity as it is at its worst; a tragi-comedy composed bysome infernal Aristophanes, in which the servant of servants, theanointed of the Lord, the lieutenant upon earth of Christ, played thechief part. It may be objected that this is the language not of historybut of the legend. I reply that there are occasions when the legend hascaught the spirit of the truth. 

Alexander was a stronger and a firmer man than his immediatepredecessors. 'He combined, ' says Guicciardini, 'craft with singularsagacity, a sound judgment with extraordinary powers of persuasion; andto all the grave affairs of life he applied ability and pains beyondbelief. '[1] His first care was to reduce Rome to order. The oldfactions of Colonna and Orsini, which Sixtus had scotched, but which hadraised their heads again during the dotage of Innocent, were destroyedin his Pontificate. In this way, as Machiavelli observed, [2] he laid thereal basis for the temporal power of the Papacy. Alexander, indeed, as asovereign, achieved for the Papal See what Louis XI. Had done for thethrone of France, and made Rome on its small scale follow the type ofthe large European monarchies. The faithlessness and perjuries of thePope, 'who never did aught else but deceive, nor ever thought ofanything but this, and always found occasion for his frauds, '[3] whencombined with his logical intellect and persuasive eloquence, made him aredoubtable antagonist. All considerations of religion and morality weresubordinated by him with strict impartiality to policy: and his policyhe restrained to two objects--the advancement of his family, and theconsolidation of the temporal power. These were narrow aims for theambition of a potentate who with one stroke of his pen pretended toconfer the new-found world on Spain. Yet they taxed his whole strength, and drove him to the perpetration of enormous crimes. 

 [1] It is but fair to Guicciardini to complete his sentence in a note: 'These good qualities were far surpassed by his vices; private habits of the utmost obscenity, no shame nor sense of truth, no fidelity to his engagements, no religious sentiment; insatiable avarice, unbridled ambition, cruelty beyond the cruelty of barbarous races, burning desire to elevate his sons by any means: of these there were many, and among them--in order that he might not lack vicious instruments for effecting his vicious schemes--one not less detestable in any way than his father. ' _St. D'It. _ vol. I. P. 9. I shall translate and put into the appendix Guicciardini's character of Alexander from the _Storia di Firenze_. 

 [2] In the sentences which close the 11th chapter of the _Prince_. 

 [3] Mach. _Prince_, ch. Xvii. In the Satires of Ariosto (Satire i. 208-27) there is a brilliant and singularly outspoken passage on the nepotism of the Popes and its ruinous results for Italy. 

Former Pontiffs had raised money by the sale of benefices andindulgences: this, of course, Alexander also practiced--to such anextent, indeed, that an epigram gained currency: 'Alexander sells thekeys, the altars, Christ. Well, he bought them; so he has a right tosell them. ' But he went further and took lessons from Tiberius. Havingsold the scarlet to the highest bidder, he used to feed his prelate withrich benefices. When he had fattened him sufficiently, he poisoned him, laid hands upon his hoards, and recommenced the game. Paolo Capello, theVenetian Ambassador, wrote in the year 1500: 'Every night they find inRome four or five murdered men, Bishops and Prelates and so forth. 'Panvinius mentions three Cardinals who were known to have been poisonedby the Pope; and to their names may be added those of the Cardinals ofCapua and of Verona. [1] To be a prince of the Church was dangerous inthose days; and if the Borgia had not at last poisoned himself bymistake, he must in the long-run have had to pay people to accept soperilous a privilege. His traffic in Church dignities was carried onupon a grand scale: twelve Cardinals' hats, for example, were put toauction in a single day in 1500. [2] This was when he wished to pack theConclave with votes in favor of the cession of Romagna to Cesare Borgia, as well as to replenish his exhausted coffers. Forty-three Cardinalswere created by him in eleven promotions: each of these was worth on anaverage 10, 000 florins; while the price paid by Francesco Soderiniamounted to 20, 000 and that paid by Domenico Grimani reached the sum of30, 000. 

 [1] See the authorities in Burckhardt, pp. 93, 94. 

 [2] Guicc. _St. D'It. _ vol. Iii. P. 15. 

Former Popes had preached crusades against the Turk, languidly orenergetically according as the coasts of Italy were threatened. Alexander frequently invited Bajazet to enter Europe and relieve him ofthe princes who opposed his intrigues in the favor of his children. Thefraternal feeling which subsisted between the Pope and the Sultan was tosome extent dependent on the fate of Prince Djem, a brother of Bajazetand son of the conqueror of Constantinople, who had fled for protectionto the Christian powers, and whom the Pope kept prisoner, receiving40, 000 ducats yearly from the Porte for his jail fee. Innocent VIII. Hadbeen the first to snare this lucrative guest in 1489. The Lance ofLonginus was sent him as a token of the Sultan's gratitude, andInnocent, who built an altar for the relique, caused his own tomb to beraised close by. His effigy in bronze by Pollajuolo still carries in itshand this blood-gift from the infidel to the High Priest of Christendom. 

Djem meanwhile remained in Rome, and held his Moslem Court side by sidewith the Pontiff in the Vatican. Dispatches are extant in whichAlexander and Bajazet exchange terms of the warmest friendship, the Turkimploring his Greatness--so he addressed the Pope--to put an end to theunlucky Djem, and promising as the price of this assassination a sum of300, 000 ducats and the tunic worn by Christ, presumably that veryseamless coat over which the soldiers of Calvary had cast theirdice. [1] The money and the relique arrived in Italy and were interceptedby the partisans of Giuliano della Rovere. Alexander, before the bargainwith the Sultan had been concluded by the murder of Djem, was forced tohand him over to the French king. But the unlucky Turk carried in hisconstitution the slow poison of the Borgias, and died in Charles's campbetween Rome and Naples. Whatever crimes may be condoned in Alexander, it is difficult to extenuate this traffic with the Turks. By his appealfrom the powers of Europe to the Sultan, at a time when the peril to theWestern world was still most serious, he stands attained for hightreason against Christendom, of which he professed to be the chief;against civilization, which the Church pretended to protect; againstChrist, whose vicar he presumed to style himself. 

 [1] See the letters in the 'Preuves et Observations, ' printed at the end of the _Mémoires de Comines_. 

Like Sixtus, Alexander combined this deadness to the spirit and theinterests of Christianity with zeal for dogma. He never flinched informal orthodoxy, and the measures which he took for riveting the chainsof superstition on the people were calculated with the military firmnessof a Napoleon. It was he who established the censure of the press, bywhich printers were obliged, under pain of excommunication, to submitthe books they issued to the control of the Archbishops and theirdelegates. The Brief of June 1, 1501, which contains this order, may bereasonably said to have retarded civilization, at least in Italy andSpain. 

Carnal sensuality was the besetting vice of this Pope throughout hislife. [1] This, together with his almost insane weakness for hischildren, whereby he became a slave to the terrible Cesare, caused allthe crimes which he committed. At the same time, though sensual, Alexander was not gluttonous. Boccaccio, the Ferrarese Ambassador, remarks: 'The Pope eats only of one dish. It is, therefore, disagreeableto have to dine with him. ' In this respect he may be favorablycontrasted with the Roman prelates of the age of Leo. His relations toVannozza Catanei, the titular wife first of Giorgio de Croce, and thenof Carlo Canale, and to Giulia Farnese, [2] surnamed La Bella, thetitular wife of Orsino Orsini, were open and acknowledged. These twosultanas ruled him during the greater portion of his career, connivingmeanwhile at the harem, which, after truly Oriental fashion, hemaintained in the Vatican. An incident which happened during the Frenchinvasion of 1494 brings the domestic circumstances of a Pope of theRenaissance vividly before us. Monseigneur d'Allegre caught the ladiesGiulia and Girolama Farnese, together with the lady Adriana de Mila, whowas employed as their duenna, near Capodimonte, on November 29, andcarried them to Montefiascone. The sum fixed for their ransom was 3, 000ducats. This the Pope paid, and on December 1 they were released. Alexander met them outside Rome, attired like a layman in a black jerkintrimmed with gold brocade, and fastened round his waist by a Spanishgirdle, from which hung his dagger. Lodovico Sforza, when he heard whathad happened, remarked that it was weak to release these ladies, whowere 'the very eyes and heart' of his Holiness, for so small aransom--if 50, 000 ducats had been demanded, they would have been paid. This and a few similar jokes, uttered at the Pope's expense, make usunderstand to what extent the Italians were accustomed to regard theirhigh priest as a secular prince. Even the pageant of Alexander seated inS. Peter's, with his daughter Lucrezia on one side of his throne and hisdaughter-in-law Sancia upon the other, moved no moral indignation; norwere the Romans astonished when Lucrezia was appointed Governor ofSpoleto, and plenipotentiary Regent of the Vatican in her father'sabsence. These scandals, however, created a very different impression inthe north, and prepared the way for the Reformation. 

 [1] Guicciardini (_St. Fior. _ cap. 27) writes: 'Fu lussoriosissimo nell' uno e nell' altro sesso, tenendo publicamente femine e garzoni, ma più ancora nelle femine. ' A notion of the public disorders connected with his dissolute life may be gained from this passage in Sanuto's Diary (Gregorovius, _Lucrezia Borgia_, p. 88): 'Da Roma per le lettere del orator nostro se intese et etiam de private persone cossa assai abominevole in le chiesa di Dio, che al papa erra nato un fiolo di una dona romana maritata, ch' el padre l' havea rufianata, e di questa il marito invitò il suocero a la vigna e lo uccise tagliandoli el capo, ponendo quello sopra uno legno con letere che diceva questo è il capo de mio suocero che a rufianato sua fiola al papa, et che inteso questo il papa fece metter el dito in exilio di Roma con taglia. Questa nova venne per letere particular; etiam si godea con la sua spagnola menatali per suo fiol duca di Gandia novamente li venuto. '

 [2] Her brother Alexander, afterwards Paul III. , owed his promotion to the purple to this liaison, which was, therefore, the origin of the greatness of the Farnesi. The tomb of Paul III. In the Tribune of S. Peter's has three notable family portraits--the Pope himself in bronze; his sister Giulia, naked in marble, as Justice; and their old mother, Giovanna Gaetani, the bawd, as Prudence. 

The nepotism of Sixtus was like water to the strong wine of Alexander'spaternal ambition. The passion of paternity, exaggerated beyond thebounds of natural affection, and scandalous in a Roman Pontiff, was themain motive of the Borgia's action. Of his children by Vannozza, hecaused the eldest son to be created Duke of Gandia; the youngest hemarried to Donna Sancia, a daughter of Alfonso of Aragon, by whom theboy was honored with the Dukedom of Squillace. Cesare, the second ofthis family, was appointed Bishop of Valentia, and Cardinal. TheDukedoms of Camerino and Nepi were given to another John, whom Alexanderfirst declared to be his grandson through Cesare, and afterwardsacknowledged as his son. This John may possibly have been Lucrezia'schild. The Dukedom of Sermoneta, wrenched for a moment from the hands ofthe Gaetani family, who still own it, was conferred upon Lucrezia's son, Roderigo. Lucrezia, the only daughter of Alexander by Vannozza, tookthree husbands in succession, after having been formally betrothed totwo Spanish nobles, Don Cherubino Juan de Centelles, and Don Gasparo daProcida, son of the Count of Aversa. These contracts, made before herfather became Pope, were annulled as not magnificent enough for thePontiff's daughter. In 1492 she was married to Giovanni Sforza, Lord ofPesaro. But in 1497 the pretensions of the Borgias had outgrown thisalliance, and their public policy was inclining to relations with theSouthern Courts of Italy. Accordingly she was divorced and given toAlfonso, Prince of Biseglia, a natural son of the King of Naples. Whenthis man's father lost his crown, the Borgias, not caring to beconnected with an ex-royal family, caused Alfonso to be stabbed on thesteps of S. Peter's in 1501; and while he lingered between life anddeath, they had him strangled in his sick-bed, by Michellozzo, Cesare'sassassin in chief. Finally Lucrezia was wedded to Alfonso, crown-princeof Ferrara, in 1502. [1] The proud heir of the Este dynasty was forced bypolicy, against his inclination, to take to his board and bed a Pope'sbastard, twice divorced, once severed from her husband by murder, andsoiled, whether justly or not, by atrocious rumors, to which herfather's and her brother's conduct gave but too much color. She proved amodel princess after all, and died at last in childbirth, after havingbeen praised by Ariosto as a second Lucrece, brighter for her virtuesthan the star of regal Rome. 

 [1] Her dowry was 300, 000 ducats, besides wedding presents, and certain important immunities and privileges granted to Ferrara by the Pope. 

History has at last done justice to the memory of this woman, whose longyellow hair was so beautiful, and whose character was so colorless. Thelegend which made her a poison-brewing Mænad has been proved a lie--butonly at the expense of the whole society in which she lived. The simplenorthern folk, familiar with the tales of Chriemhild, Brynhild, andGudrun, who helped to forge this legend, could not understand that awoman should be irresponsible for all the crimes and scandalsperpetrated in her name. Yet it seems now clear enough that not hers, but her father's and her brother's, were the atrocities which made hermarried life in Rome a byword. She sat and smiled through all thetempests which tossed her to and fro, until she found at last a fairport in the Duchy of Ferrara. Nursed in the corruption of Papal Rome, which Lorenzo de' Medici described to his son Giovanni as 'a sink of allthe vices, ' consorting habitually with her father's concubines, andconscious that her own mother had been married for show to twosuccessive husbands, it is not possible that Lucrezia ruled her conductat any time with propriety. It is even probable that the darkest talesabout her are true. The Lord of Pesaro, we must remember, told hiskinsman, the Duke of Milan, that the assigned reasons for his divorcewere false, and that the fact was what can scarcely be recorded. [1]Still, there is no ground for supposing that, in the matter of herfirst husband's divorce and the second's murder, she was more than apassive agent in the hands of Alexander and Cesare. The pleasure-loving, careless woman of the Renaissance is very different from the Medea ofVictor Hugo's romance; and what remains most revolting to the modernconscience in her conduct is complacent acquiescence in scenes ofdebauchery devised for her amusement. [2] Instead of viewing her withdread as a potent and malignant witch, we have to regard her withcontempt as a feeble woman, soiled with sensual foulness from thecradle. It is also due to truth to remember that at Ferrara she won theesteem of a husband who had married her unwillingly, attached the wholestate to her by her sweetness of temper, and received the panegyrics ofthe two Strozzi, Bembo, Ariosto, Aldo Manuzio, and many other men ofnote. Foreigners who saw her surrounded by her brilliant Courtexclaimed, like the French biographer of Bayard: 'J'ose bien dire que, de son temps, ni beau coup avant, il ne s'est point trouvé de plustriomphante princesse; car elle était belle, bonne douce, et courtoise àtoutes gens. '

 [1] The whole question of Lucrezia's guilt has been ably investigated by Gregorovius (_Lucrezia Borgia_, pp. 101, 159-64). Charity suggests that the dreadful tradition of her relation to her father and brothers is founded less upon fact than upon the scandals current after her divorce. What Giovanni Sforza said was this: '_anzi haverla conosciuta infinite volte, ma chel Papa non gelha tolta per altro se non per usare con lei_. ' This confession of the injured husband went the round of all the Courts of Italy, was repeated by Malipiero and Paolo Capello, formed the substance of the satires of Sannazaro and Pontano, crept into the chronicle of Matarazzo, and survived in the histories of Machiavelli and Guicciardini. There was nothing in his words to astonish men who were cognizant of the acts of Gianpaolo Baglioni and Sigismondo Malatesta; while the frantic passion of Alexander for his children, closely allied as this feeling was in him to excessive sensuality, gave them confirmation. Were they, however, true; or were they a malevolent lie? That is the real point at issue. Psychological speculation will help but little here. It is true that Lucrezia in after-life showed all the signs of a clear conscience. But so also did Alexander, whose buoyancy of spirits lasted till the very day of his death. Yet he was stained with crimes foul enough to darken the conscience of any man, at any period of life, and in any position. 

 [2] See Burchard, ed. Leibnitz, pp. 77 and 78. 

Yet even at Ferrara tragedies which might remind her of the Vaticancontinued to surround her path. Alfonso, rude in manners and devoted togun-foundry, interfered but little with the life she led among the witsand scholars who surrounded her. One day, however, in 1508, the poetErcole Strozzi, who had sung her praises, was found dead, wrapped in hismantle, and pierced with two-and-twenty wounds. No judicial inquiry intothis murder was made. Rumor credited both Alfonso and Lucrezia with thedeed--Alfonso, because he might be jealous of his wife--Lucrezia, because her poet had recently married Barbara Torelli. Two years earlieranother dark crime at Ferrara brought the name of Borgia before thepublic. One of Lucrezia's ladies, Angela Borgia, was courted by bothGiulio d' Este and the Cardinal Ippolito. The girl praised the eyes ofGiulio in the hearing of the Cardinal, who forthwith hired assassins tomutilate his brother's face. Giulio escaped from their hands with theloss of one of his eyes, and sought justice from the Duke against theCardinal in vain. Thereupon he vowed to be revenged on both Ippolito andAlfonso. His plot was to murder them, and to place Ferdinand of Este onthe throne. The treason was discovered; the conspirators appeared beforeAlfonso: he rushed upon Ferdinand, and with his dagger stabbed him inthe face. Both Giulio and Ferdinand were thrown into the dungeons of thepalace at Ferrara, where they languished for years, while the Duke andLucrezia enjoyed themselves in its spacious halls and su ny loggieamong their courtiers. Ferdinand died in prison, aged sixty-three, in1540. Giulio was released in 1559 and died, aged eighty-three, in 1561. These facts deserve to be recorded in connection with Lucrezia's marriedlife at Ferrara, lest we should pay too much attention to the flatteriesof Ariosto. At the same time her history as Duchess consists, for themost part, in the record of the birth of children. Like her motherVannozza, she gave herself, in the decline of life, to works of charityand mercy. After this fashion the bright and baleful dames of theRenaissance saved their souls. 

But to return to the domestic history of Alexander. The murder of theDuke of Gandia brings the whole Borgia family upon the scene. It isrelated with great circumstantiality and with surprising sangfroid byBurchard, the Pope's Master of the Ceremonies. The Duke with his brotherCesare, then Cardinal Valentino, supped one night at the house of theirmother Vannozza. On their way home the Duke said that he should visit alady of their acquaintance. He parted from Cesare and was never seenagain alive. When the news of his disappearance spread abroad, aboatman of the Tiber deposed to having watched the body of a man throwninto the river on the night of the Duke's death, the 14th of June; hehad not thought it worth while to report this fact, for he had seen 'ahundred bodies in his day thrown into the water at the said spot, and noquestions asked about them afterwards. ' The Pope had the Tiber draggedfor some hours, while the wits of Rome made epigrams upon this truesuccessor of S. Peter, this new fisher of men. At last the body of theDuke of Gandia was hauled up: nine wounds, one in the throat, the othersin the head and legs and trunk, were found upon the corpse. From theevidence accumulated on the subject of the murder it appeared thatCesare had planned it; whether, as some have supposed, out of a jealousyof his brother too dreadful to describe, or, as is more probable, because he wished to take the first place in the Borgia family, we donot know exactly. The Pontiff in his rage and grief was like a wildbeast driven to bay. He shut himself up in a private room, refused food, and howled with so terrible a voice that it was heard in the streetsbeyond his palace. When he rose up from this agony, remorse seemed tohave struck him. He assembled a Conclave of the Cardinals, wept beforethem, rent his robes, confessed his sins, and instituted a commissionfor the reform of the abuses he had sanctioned in the Church. But thestorm of anguish spent its strength at last. A visit from Vannozza, themother of his children, wrought a sudden change from fury toreconcilement. What passed between them is not known for certain;Vannozza is supposed, however, to have pointed out, what wasindisputably true, that Cesare was more fitted to support the dignity ofthe family by his abilities than had been the weak and amiable Duke ofGandia. The miserable father rose from the earth, dried his eyes, tookfood, put from him his remorse, and forgot together with his grief forAbsalom the reforms which he had promised for the Church. 

Henceforth he devoted himself with sustained energy to building up thefortunes of Cesare, whom he released from all ecclesiasticalobligations, and to whose service he seemed bound by some mysteriouspower. Nor did he even resent the savageness and cruelty which thisyoung hell-cat vented in his presence on the persons of his favorites. At one time Cesare stabbed Perotto, the Pope's minion, with his ownhand, when the youth had taken refuge in Alexander's arms: the bloodspirted out upon the priestly mantle, and the young man died there. [1]At another time he employed the same diabolical temper for thedelectation of his father. He turned out some prisoners sentenced todeath in a court-yard of the palace, arrayed himself in fantasticclothes, and amused the papal party by shooting the unlucky criminals. They ran round and round the court crouching and doubling to avoid hisarrows. He showed his skill by hitting each where he thought fit. ThePope and Lucrezia looked on applaudingly. Other scenes, not ofbloodshed, but of groveling sensuality, devised for the entertainment ofhis father and his sister, though described by the dry pen of Burchard, can scarcely be transferred to these pages. 

 [1] The account is given by Capello, the Venetian envoy. 

The history of Cesare's attempt to found a principality belongs properlyto another chapter. [1] But the assistance rendered by his father isessential to the biography of Alexander. The vision of an Italiansovereignty which Charles of Anjou, Gian Galeazzo Visconti, and GaleazzoMaria Sforza had successively entertained, now fascinated theimagination of the Borgias. Having resolved to make Cesare a prince, Alexander allied himself with Louis XII. Of France, promising to annulhis first marriage and to sanction his nuptials with Ann of Brittany, ifhe would undertake the advancement of his son. This bribe induced Louisto create Cesare Duke of Valence and to confer on him the hand ofCharlotte of Navarre. He also entered Italy and with his arms enabledCesare to subdue Romagna. The system adopted by Alexander and his son intheir conquests was a simple one. They took the capitals and murderedthe princes. Thus Cesare strangled the Varani at Camerino in 1502, andthe Vitelli and Orsini at Sinigaglia in the same year: by his means theMarcscotti had been massacred wholesale in Bologna; Pesaro, Rimini, andForli had been treated in like manner; and after the capture of Faenpzain 1501, the two young Manfredi had been sent to Rome; where they wereexposed to the worst insults, drowned or strangled. [2] A system of equalsimplicity kept their policy alive in foreign Courts. The Bishop ofCette in France was poisoned for hinting at a secret of Cesare's (1498);the Cardinal d'Amboise was bribed to maintain the credit of the Borgiaswith Louis XII. ; the offer of a red hat to Briçonnet saved Alexanderfrom a general council in 1494. The historical interest of Alexander'smethod consists of its deliberate adaptation of all the means in hispower to one end--the elevation of his family. His spiritual authority, the wealth of the Church, the honors of the Holy College, the arts of anassassin, the diplomacy of a despot, were all devoted systematically andopenly to the purpose in view. Whatever could be done to weaken Italy byforeign invasions and internal discords, so as to render it a prey forhis poisonous son, he attempted. When Louis XII. Made his infamousalliance with Ferdinand the Catholic for the spoliation of the house ofAragon in Naples, the Pope gladly gave it his sanction. The two kingsquarreled over their prey: then Alexander fomented their discord inorder that Cesare might have an opportunity of carrying on hisoperations in Tuscany unchecked. Patriotism in his breast, whether thepatriotism of a born Spaniard or the patriotism of an Italian potentate, was as dead as Christianity. To make profit for the house of Borgia byfraud, sacrilege, and the dismemberment of nations, was the Papalpolicy. 

 [1] See Chapter VI. 

 [2] Their father, Galeotto Manfredi, had been murdered in 1488 by their mother, Francesca Bentivogli. Of Astorre's death Guicciardini writes: 'Astorre, che era minore di diciotto anni e di forma eccellente . .. Condotto a Roma, saziata prima (secondo che si disse) la libidine di qualcuno, fu occultamente insieme con un suo fratello naturale privato della vita. ' Nardi (_Storie Florentine_, lib. Iv. 13) credits Cesare with the violation and murder of the boy. How far, we may ask, were these dark crimes of violence actuated by astrological superstition? This question is raised by Burckhardt (p. 363) apropos of Sigismondo Malatesta's assault upon his son, and Pier Luigi Farnese's violation of the Bishop of Fano. To a temperament like Alexander's, however, mere lust enhanced by cruelty, and seasoned with the joy of insult to an enemy, was a sufficient motive for the commission of monstrous crime. 

It is wearisome to continue to the end the catalogue of his misdoings. We are relieved when at last the final crash arrives. The two Borgias, so runs the legend of their downfall, invited themselves to dine withthe Cardinal Adriano of Corneto in a vineyard of the Vatican belongingto their host. Thither by the hands of Alexander's butler theypreviously conveyed some poisoned wine. By mistake, or by thecontrivance of the Cardinal, who may have bribed this trusted agent, they drank the death-cup mingled for their victim. Nearly allcontemporary Italian annalists, including Guicciardini, Paolo Giovio, and Sanudo, gave currency to this version of the tragedy, which becamethe common property of historians, novelists, and moralists. [1] YetBurchard who was on the spot, recorded in his diary that both father andson were attacked by a malignant fever; and Giustiniani wrote to hismasters in Venice that the Pope's physician ascribed his illness toapoplexy. [2] The season was remarkably unhealthy, and deaths from feverhad been frequent. A circular letter to the German Princes, writtenprobably by the Cardinal of Gurk, and dated August 31, 1503, distinctlymentioned fever as the cause of the Pope's sudden decease, _ex hocseculo horrendâ febrium incensione absorptum_. [3] Machiavelli, again, who conversed with Cesare Borgia about this turning-point in his career, gave no hint of poison, but spoke only of son and father beingsimultaneously prostrated by disease. 

 [1] The story is related by Cinthio in his _Ecatommithi_, December 9, November 10. 

 [2] The various accounts of Alexander's death have been epitomized by Gregorovius (_Stadt Rom_, vol. Vii. ), and have been discussed by Villari in his edition of the Giustiniani Dispatches, 2 vols. Florence, Le Monnier. Gregorovius thinks the question still open. Villari decides in favor of fever against poison. 

 [3] Reprinted by R. Garnett in _Athenæum_, Jan. 16, 1875. 

At this distance of time, and without further details of evidence, weare unable to decide whether Alexander's death was natural, or whetherthe singularly circumstantial and commonly accepted story of thepoisoned wine contained the truth. On the one side, in favor of thehypothesis of fever, we have Burchard's testimony, which does not, however, exactly agree with Giustiniani's, who reported apoplexy to theVenetian senate as the cause of death, and whose report, even at Venice, was rejected by Sanudo for the hypothesis of poison. On the other side, we have the consent of all contemporary historians, with the single and, it must be allowed, remarkable exception of Machiavelli. Paolo Gioviogoes even so far as to assert that the Cardinal Corneto told him he hadnarrowly escaped from the effects of antidotes taken in his extremeterror to counteract the possibility of poison. 

Whatever may have been the proximate cause of his sickness, Alexanderdied, a black and swollen mass, hideous to contemplate, after a sharpstruggle with the venom he had absorbed. [1] 'All Rome, ' saysGuicciardini, 'ran with indescribable gladness to view the corpse. Mencould not satiate their eyes with feeding on the carcass of a serpentwho, by his unbounded ambition and pestiferous perfidy, by everydemonstration of horrible cruelty, monstrous lust, and unheard-ofavarice, selling without distinction things sacred and profane, hadfilled the world with venom. ' Cesare languished for some days on a sickbed; but in the end, by the aid of a powerful constitution, herecovered, to find his claws cut and his plans in irretrievableconfusion. 'The state of the Duke of Valence, ' says Filippo Nerli, [2]'vanished even as smoke in air, or foam upon the water. '

 [1] 'Morto chel fu, il corpo cominciò a bollire, e la bocca a spumare come faria uno caldaro al focho, assì perseverò mentre che fu sopra terra; divenne anchor ultra modo grosso in tanto che in lui non apparea forma di corpo humano, ne dala larghezza ala lunghezza del corpo suo era differenzia alcuna' (letter of Marquis of Mantua). 

 [2] _Commentari_, lib, v. 

The moral sense of the Italians expressed itself after Alexander's deathin the legend of a devil, who had carried off his soul. Burchard, Giustiniani, Sanudo, and others mention this incident with apparentbelief. But a letter from the Marquis of Mantua to his wife, datedSeptember 22, 1503, gives the fullest particulars: 'In his sickness thePope talked in such a way that those who did not know what was in hismind thought him wandering, though he spoke with great feeling, and hiswords were: _I will come; it is but right; wait yet a little while_. Those who were privy to his secret thought, explained that, after thedeath of Innocent, while the Conclave was sitting, he bargained with thedevil for the Papacy at the price of his soul; and among the agreementswas this, that he should hold the See twelve years, which he did, withthe addition of four days; and some attest they saw seven devils in theroom at the moment that he breathed his last. ' Mere old wives' tales;yet they mark the point to which the credit of the Borgia had fallen, even in Italy, since the hour when the humanists had praised his godlikecarriage and heroic mien upon the day of his election. 

Thus, overreaching themselves, ended this pair of villains--the mostnotable adventurers who ever played their part upon the stage of thegreat world. The fruit of so many crimes and such persistent effort wasreaped by their enemy, Giuliano della Rovere, for whose benefit thenobles of the Roman state and the despots of Romagna had beenextirpated. [1] Alexander had proved the old order of Catholicity to beuntenable. The Reformation was imperiously demanded. His very vicesspurred the spirit of humanity to freedom. Before a saintly Pontiff thenew age might still have trembled in superstitious reverence. The Borgiato all logical intellects rendered the pretensions of a Pope to sway thesouls of men ridiculous. This is an excuse for dwelling so long upon thespectacle of his enormities. Better than any other series of facts, theyillustrate, not only the corruption of society, and the separationbetween morality and religion in Italy, but also the absurdity of thatChurch policy which in the age of the Renaissance confined the action ofthe head of Christendom to the narrow interests of a brood of parvenusand bastards. 

 [1] Cesare, it must be remembered, had ostensibly reduced the cities of Lombardy, Romagna, and the March, as Gonfalonier of the Church. 

Of Pius III. , who reigned for a few days after Alexander, no accountneed be taken. Giuliano della Rovere was made Pope in 1503. Whateveropinion may be formed of him considered as the high-priest of theChristian faith, there can be no doubt that Julius II. Was one of thegreatest figures of the Renaissance, and that his name, instead of thatof Leo X. , should by right be given to the golden age of letters and ofarts in Rome. He stamped the century with the impress of a powerfulpersonality. It is to him we owe the most splendid of Michael Angelo'sand Raphael's masterpieces. The Basilica of S. Peter's, thatmaterialized idea, which remains to symbolize the transition from theChurch of the Middle Ages to the modern semi-secular supremacy of PapalRome, was his thought. No nepotism, no loathsome sensuality, noflagrant violation of ecclesiastical justice, stain his pontificate. Hisone purpose was to secure and extend the temporal authority of thePopes; and this he achieved by curbing the ambition of the Venetians, who threatened to absorb Romagna, by reducing Perugia and Bologna to thePapal sway, by annexing Parma and Piacenza, and by entering on theheritage bequeathed to him by Cesare Borgia. At his death he transmittedto his successors the largest and most solid sovereignty in Italy. Butrestless, turbid, never happy unless fighting, Julius drowned thepeninsula in blood. He has been called a patriot, because from time totime he raised the cry of driving the barbarians from Italy: it must, however, be remembered that it was he, while still Cardinal di SanPietro in Vincoli, who finally moved Charles VIII. From Lyons; it was hewho stirred up the League of Cambray against Venice, and who invited theSwiss mercenaries into Lombardy; in each case adding the weight of thePapal authority to the forces which were enslaving his country. Julius, again, has been variously represented as the saviour of the Papacy, andas the curse of Italy. [1] He was emphatically both. In those days ofnational anarchy it was perhaps impossible for Julius to magnify theChurch except at the expense of the nation, and to achieve the purposeof his life without inflicting the scourge of foreign war upon hiscountrymen. The powers of Europe had outgrown the Papal discipline. Italian questions were being decided in the cabinets of Louis, Maximilian, and Ferdinand. Instead of controlling the arbiters of Italy, a Pope could only play off one against another. 

 [1] 'Fatale instrumento e allora e prima e poi de' mali d'Italia, ' says Guicciardini, _Storia d'Italia_, vol. I. P. 84. 'Der Retter des Papstthums, ' says Burckhardt, p. 95. 

Leo X. Succeeded Julius in 1513, to the great relief of the Romans, wearied with the continual warfare of the old _Pontifice terribile_. Inthe gorgeous pageant of his triumphal procession to the Lateran, thestreets were decked with arches, emblems, and inscriptions. Among thesemay be noticed the couplet emblazoned by the banker Agostino Chigibefore his palace:

 Olim habuit Cypris sua tempora; tempora Mavors Olim habuit; sua nunc tempora Pallas habet. 

'Venus ruled here with Alexander; Mars with Julius; now Pallas enters onher reign with Leo. ' To this epigram the goldsmith Antonio di San Marcoanswered with one pithy line:

 Mars fuit; est Pallas; Cypria semper ero:

'Mars reigned; Pallas reigns; Venus' own I shall always be. '

This first Pope of the house of Medici enjoyed at Rome the fame of hisfather Lorenzo the Magnificent at Florence. Extolled as an Augustus inhis lifetime, he has given his name to what is called the golden age ofItalian culture. As a man, he was well qualified to represent theneo-pagan freedom of the Renaissance. Saturated with the spirit of hisperiod, he had no sympathy with religious earnestness, no conception ofmoral elevation, no aim beyond a superficial polish of the understandingand the taste. Good Latinity seemed to him of more importance than truedoctrine: Jupiter sounded better in a sermon than Jehovah; theimmortality of the soul was an open topic for debate. At the same timehe was extravagantly munificent to men of culture, and hearty in hiszeal for the diffusion of liberal knowledge. But what was reasonable inthe man was ridiculous in the pontiff. There remained an irreconcilableincongruity between his profession of the Primacy of Christianity andhis easy epicurean philosophy. 

Leo, like all the Medici after the first Cosimo, was a bad financier. His reckless expenditure contributed in no small measure to thecorruption of Rome and to the ruin of the Latin Church, while it won thepraises of the literary world. Julius, who had exercised rigid economy, left 700, 000 ducats in the coffers of S. Angelo. The very jewels ofLeo's tiara were pledged to pay his debts, when he died suddenly in1521. During the heyday of his splendor he spent 8, 000 ducats monthlyon presents to his favorites and on his play-debts. His table, whichwas open to all the poets, singers, scholars, and buffoons of Rome, cost half the revenues of Romagna and the March. He founded theknightly Order of S. Peter to replenish his treasury, and turned theconspiracy of the Cardinal Petrucci against his life to such goodaccount--extorting from the Cardinal Riario a fine of 5, 000 ducats, andfrom the Cardinals Soderini and Hadrian the sum of 125, 000--that VonHutten was almost justified in treating the whole of that dark businessas a mere financial speculation. The creation of thirty-nine Cardinalsin 1517 brought him in above 500, 000 ducats. Yet, in spite of theseexpedients for getting gold, the bankers of Rome were half ruined whenhe died. The Bini had lent him 200, 000 ducats; the Gaddi, 32, 000; theRicasoli, 10, 000; the Cardinal Salviati claimed a debt of 80, 000; theCardinals Santi Quattro and Armellini, each 150, 000. [1] These figuresare only interesting when we remember that the mountains of gold whichthey denote were squandered in æsthetic sensuality. 

When the Pope was made, he said to Giuliano (Duke of Nemours): 'Let usenjoy the Papacy since God has given it us--_godiamoci il Papato, poichèDio ce l' ha dato_. [2]' It was in this spirit that Leo administered theHoly See. The keynote which he struck dominated the whole society ofRome. At Agostine Chigi's banquets, prelates of the Church and Apostolicsecretaries sat side by side with beautiful Imperias and smooth-cheekedsinging-boys; fishes from Byzantium and ragouts of parrots' tongues wereserved on golden platters, which the guests threw from the open windowsinto the Tiber. Masques and balls, comedies and carnival processionsfilled the streets and squares and palaces of the Eternal City with amimicry of pagan festivals, while art went hand in hand with luxury. Itseemed as though Bacchus and Pallas and Priapus would be reinstated intheir old realm, and yet Rome had not ceased to call herself Christian. The hoarse rhetoric of friars in the Coliseum, and the drone ofpifferari from the Ara Coeli, mingled with the Latin declamationsof the Capitol and the twang of lute-strings in the Vatican. Meanwhile, amid crowds of Cardinals in hunting-dress, dances of half-naked girls, and masques of Carnival Bacchantes, moved pilgrims from the North withwide, astonished, woeful eyes--disciples of Luther, in whose soul, as ina scabbard, lay sheathed the sword of the Spirit, ready to flash forthand smite. 

 [1] See Gregorovius, _Stadt Rom_, book xiv. Ch. 3. 

 [2] 'Relazione di Marino Giorgi, ' March 17, 1517. Alberi, series ii. Vol. Iii. P. 51. 

A more complete conception may be formed of Leo by comparing him withJulius. Julius disturbed the peace of Italy with a view to establishingthe temporal power of his see. Leo returned to the old nepotism of theprevious Popes, and fomented discord for the sake of the Medici. It wasat one time his project to secure the kingdom of Naples for his brotherGiuliano, and a Milanese sovereignty for his nephew Lorenzo. On thelatter he succeeded in conferring the Duchy of Urbino, to the prejudiceof its rightful owners. [1] With Florence in their hands and the Papacyunder their control, the Medici might have swayed all Italy. Such plans, however, in the days of Francis I. And Charles V. Had becomeimpracticable; nor had any of the Medicean family stuff to undertakemore than the subjugation of their native city. Julius was violent intemper, but observant of his promises. Leo was suave and slippery. Helured Gianpaolo Baglioni to Rome by a safe-conduct, and then had himimprisoned and beheaded in the Castle of S. Angelo. Julius delighted inwar and was never happier than when the cannons roared around him atMirandola. Leo vexed the soul of his master of the ceremonies because hewould ride out a-hunting in topboots. Julius designed S. Peter's andcomprehended Michael Angelo. Leo had the wit to patronize the poets, artists and historians who added luster to his Court; but he brought nonew great man of genius to the front. The portraits of the two Popes, both from the hand of Raphael, are exceedingly characteristic. Julius, bent and emaciated, has the nervous glance of a passionate and energetictemperament; though the brand is hoar with ashes and more than halfburned out, it glows and can inflame a conflagration. Leo, heavy jawed, dull-eyed, with thick lips and a brawny jowl, betrays the coarser fiberof a sensualist. 

 [1] He would have given it to Giuliano, but Giuliano was an honest man and remembered what he owed to the della Rovere family. See the 'Relazione' of Marino Giorgi (_Rel. Ven. _ ser. Ii. Vol. Iii. P. 51). 

It has often been remarked that both Julius and Leo raised money by thesale of indulgences with a view to the building of S. Peter's, thusaggravating one of the chief scandals which provoked the Reformation. In that age of maladjusted impulses the desire to execute a great workof art, combined with the cynical resolve to turn the superstitions ofthe people to account, forced rebellion to a head. Leo was unconsciousof the magnitude of Luther's movement. If he thought at all seriously ofthe phenomenon, it stirred his wonder. Nor did he feel the necessity ofreformation in the Church of Italy. The rich and many-sided life of Romeand the diplomatic interests of Italian despotism absorbed his wholeattention. It was but a small matter what barbarians thought or did. 

The sudden death of Leo threw the Holy College into great perplexity. Tochoose the new Pope without reference to political interests wasimpossible; and these were divided between Charles V. And Francis I. After twelve days spent by the Cardinals in conclave, the result oftheir innumerable schemes and counter-schemes was the election of theCardinal of Tortosa. No one knew him; and his elevation to the Papacy, due to the influence of Charles, was almost as great a surprise to theelectors as to the Romans. In their rage and horror at having chosenthis barbarian, the College began to talk about the inspiration of theHoly Ghost, seeking the most improbable of all excuses for the mistaketo which intrigue had driven them. 'The courtiers of the Vatican andchief officers of the Church, ' says an eyewitness, 'wept and screamedand cursed and gave themselves up to despair. ' Along the blank walls ofthe city was scrawled: 'Rome to let. ' Sonnets fell in showers, accusingthe cardinals of having delivered over 'the fair Vatican to a German'sfury. '[1] Adrian VI. Came to Rome for the first time as Pope. [2] He knewno Italian, and talked Latin with an accent unfamiliar to southern ears. His studies had been confined to scholastic philosophy and theology. With courts he had no commerce; and he was so ignorant of the state aPope should keep in Rome, that he wrote beforehand requesting that amodest house and garden might be hired for his abode. When he saw theVatican, he exclaimed that here the successors, not of Peter, but ofConstantine should dwell. Leo kept one hundred grooms for the service ofhis stable; Adrian retained but four. Two Flemish valets sufficed forhis personal attendance, and to these he gave each evening one ducat forthe expenses of the next day's living. A Flemish serving woman cookedhis food, made his bed and washed his linen. Rome, with its splendidimmorality, its classic art and pagan culture, made the same impressionon him that it made on Luther. When his courtiers pointed to the Laocoonas the most illustrious monument of ancient sculpture, he turned awaywith horror, murmuring: 'Idols of the Pagans!' The Belvedere, which wasfast becoming the first statue-gallery in Europe, he walled up and neverentered. At the same time he set himself with earnest purpose, so far ashis tied hands and limited ability would go, to reform the more patentabuses of the Church. Leo had raised about three million ducats by thesale of offices, which represented an income of 348, 000 ducats to thepurchasers, and provided places for 2, 550 persons. By a stroke of hispen Adrian canceled these contracts and threw upon the world a crowd ofangry and defrauded officials. It was but poor justice to remind themthat their bargain with his predecessor had been illegal. Such attempts, however, at a reformation of ecclesiastical society were as ineffectualas pin-pricks in the cure of a fever which demands blood-letting. Thereal corruption of Rome, deeply seated in high places, remaineduntouched. Luther meanwhile had carried all before him in the North, andaccurate observers in Rome itself dreaded some awful catastrophe for theguilty city. 'This state is set upon the razor-edge of peril; God grantwe have not soon to take flight to Avignon or to the ends of the ocean. I see the downfall of this spiritual monarchy at hand. Unless God help, it is all over with us. '[3] Adrian met the emergency, and took up armsagainst the sea of troubles by expressing his horror of simony, sensuality, thievery and so forth. The result was that he was simplylaughed at. Pasquin made so merry with his name that Adrian vowed hewould throw the statue into the Tiber; whereupon the Duke of Sessawittily replied: 'Throw him to the bottom, and, like a frog, he'll go oncroaking. ' Berni, again, wrote one of his cleverest Capitoli upon thedunce who could not comprehend his age; and when he died, his doctor'sdoor was ornamented with this inscription: _Liberatori patriæ SenatusPopulusque Romanus_. 

 [1] See Greg. _Stadt Rom_, vol. Viii. Pp. 382, 383. The details about Adriano are chiefly taken from the _Relazioni_ of the Venetian embassadors, series ii. Vol. Iii. Pp. 75-120. 

 [2] His father's name was Florus or Flerentius, of the Flemish family, it is supposed, of Dedel. Berni calls him a carpet-maker. Other accounts represent him as a ship's carpenter. The Pope's baptismal name was Adrian. 

 [3] See the passage quoted from the _Lettere de Principi_, Rome, March 17, 1523, by Burckhardt, p. 99, note. 

Great was the rejoicing when another Medici was made Pope in 1523. People hoped that the merry days of Leo would return. But things hadgone too far toward dissolution. Clement VII. Failed to givesatisfaction to the courtiers whom his more genial cousin had delighted:even the scholars and the poets grumbled. [1] His rule was weak andvacillating, so that the Colonna faction raised its head again and drovehim to the Castle of S. Angelo. The political horizon of Italy grewdarker and more sullen daily, as before some dreadful storm. Over Romeitself impended ruin--

 as when God Will o'er some high-viced city hang his poison In the sick air. [2]

At last the crash came. Clement by a series of treaties, treacheries, and tergiversations had deprived himself of every friend and exasperatedevery foe. Italy was so worn out with warfare, so accustomed to theanarchy of aimless revolutions and to the trampling to and fro ofstranger squadrons on her shores, that the news of a Lutheran troop, levied with the express object of pillaging Rome, and reinforced withSpanish ruffians and the scum of every nation, scarcely roused herapathy. The so-called army of Frundsberg--a horde of robbers heldtogether by the hope of plunder--marched without difficulty to the gatesof Rome. So low had the honor of Italian princes fallen that the Duke ofFerrara, by direct aid given, and the Duke of Urbino, by counter-forcewithheld, opened the passes of the Po and of the Apennines to thesemarauders. They lost their general in Lombardy. The Constable Bourbon, who succeeded him, died in the assault of the city. Then Rome for ninemonths was abandoned to the lust, rapacity, and cruelty of some 30, 000brigands without a leader. It was then discovered to what lengths ofinsult, violence, and bestiality the brutal barbarism of Germans and theavarice of Spaniards could be carried. Clement, beleaguered in theCastle of S. Angelo, saw day and night the smoke ascend from desolatedpalaces and desecrated temples, heard the wailing of women and thegroans of tortured men mingle with the jests of Lutheran drunkards andthe curses of Castilian bandits. Roaming its galleries and leaning fromits windows he exclaimed with Job:[3] '_Quare de vulvâ eduxisti me? quiutinam consumptus essem, ne oculus me videret_. ' What the Romans, emasculated by luxury and priest rule, what the Cardinals and prelates, lapped in sensuality and sloth, were made to suffer during this longagony, can scarcely be described. It is too horrible. When at last thebarbarians, sated with blood, surfeited with lechery, glutted with gold, and decimated by pestilence, withdrew, Rome raised her head a widow. From the shame and torment of that sack she never recovered, neverbecame again the gay licentious lovely capital of arts and letters, theglittering gilded Rome of Leo. But the kings of the earth took pity onher desolation. The treaty of Amiens (August 18, 1527), concludedbetween Francis I. And Henry VIII. Against Charles V. , in whose namethis insult had been offered to the Holy City of Christendom, togetherwith Charles's own tardy willingness to make amends, restored the Papacyto the respect of Europe. 

 [1] See, for instance, Berni's sonnets. In one of these, Berni very powerfully describes the vacillation and irresolution of Clement's state-policy. 

 [2] See Varchi's picture of the state of Rome, _St. Fior. _ ii. 

 [3] So Luigi Guicciardini in his account of the sack of Rome relates. 

It is well known that at this crisis the Emperor seriously thought ofputting an end to the State of the Church. His councilors advised him torestore the Pope to his original rank of Bishop, and to make Rome againthe seat of Empire. [1] But to have done this would have been impossibleunder the political conditions of the sixteenth century, and in the faceof Christendom still Catholic. His deliberations, therefore, cost Romethe miseries of the sack; but they were speedily superseded by thedetermination to strengthen the Papal by means of the Imperialauthority in Italy. Florence was given as a make-peace offering to thecontemptible Medici; and it remains the worst shame of Clement that heused the dregs of the army that had sacked Rome for the enslavement ofhis mother-city. 

 [1] See the authorities in Greg. _Stadt Rom_, vol. Viii. Pp. 569, 575. 

Internally, the Papal State had learned by its misfortunes the necessityof a reform. Sadoleto, writing in the September of that memorable yearto Clement, reminds him that the sufferings of Rome have satisfied thewrath of God, and that the way was now open for an amelioration ofmanners and laws. [1] No force of arms could prevent the Holy City fromreturning to a better life, and proving that the Christian priesthoodwas not a mere mockery and sham. [2] In truth the Counter-Reformation maybe said to date historically from 1527. 

 [1] It was universally recognized in Italy that the sack of Rome was a punishment inflicted by Providence upon the godless city. Without quoting great authorities like Sadoleto or the Bishop of Fossombrone, one of whose letters gives a really awful picture of Roman profligacy (_Opere di M. G. Guidiccioni_, Barbera, vol. I. P. 193), we find abundant testimony to this persuasion regarding the intolerible vice of Rome, even in men devoid of moral conscience. Aretino (_La Cortegiana_, end of Act i. Sc. Xxiii. ) writes: 'Io mic redeva che il castigo, che l' ha dato Cristo per mano degli Spagnuoli, l'avesse fatta migliore, et è più scellerata che mai. ' Bandello (_Novelle_, Parte ii. Xxxvii. ) alluding to the sack, remarks in a parenthesis, 'benche i peccati di quella città meritassero esser castigati. ' After adducing two such witnesses, it would weaken the case to cite Trissino or Vettori, both of whom expressed themselves with force upon the iniquities of Papal Rome. 

 [2] Compare _Lettere de' Princ. _ ii. 77; Cardinal Cajetanus, and other testimonies quoted by Greg. _Stadt Rom_, vol. Viii. Pp. 568, 578. 

CHAPTER VIII. 

THE CHURCH AND MORALITY. 

Corruption of the Church--Degradation and Division of Italy--Opinions ofMachiavelli, Guicciardini, and King Ferdinand of Naples--Incapacity ofthe Italians for thorough Reformation--The Worldliness and Culture ofthe Renaissance--Witness of Italian Authors against the Papal Court andthe Convents--Superstitious Respect for Relics--Separation betweenReligion and Morality--Mixture of Contempt and Reverence for thePopes--Gianpaolo Baglioni--Religious Sentiments of theTyrannicides--Pietro Paolo Boscoli--Tenacity of Religions--The directInterest of the Italians in Rome--Reverence for the Sacraments of theChurch--Opinions pronounced by Englishmen on Italian Immorality--BadFaith and Sensuality--The Element of the Fancy in Italian Vice--TheItalians not Cruel, or Brutal, or Intemperate by Nature--DomesticMurders--Sense of Honor in Italy--Onore and Onesta--GeneralRefinement--Good Qualities of the People--Religious Revivalism. 

The corruption of the Papal Court involved a corresponding moralweakness throughout Italy. This makes the history of the Popes of theRenaissance important precisely in those details which formed thesubject of the preceding chapter. Morality and religion suffered analmost complete separation in the fifteenth century. The chiefs of theChurch with cynical effrontery violated every tradition of Christ andthe Apostles, so that the example of Rome was in some sense thejustification of fraud, violence, lust, filthy living, and ungodlinessto the whole nation. 

The contradiction between the spiritual pretensions of the Popes andtheir actual worldliness was not so glaring to the men of theRenaissance, accustomed by long habit to the spectacle of this anomaly, as it is to us. Nor would it be scientific to imagine that any Italianin that age judged by moral standards similar to ours. Æstheticpropriety rather than strict conceptions of duty ruled the conduct evenof the best, and it is wonderful to observe with what artless simplicitythe worst sinners believed they might make peace in time of need withheaven. Yet there were not wanting profound thinkers who traced thenational decay of the Italians to the corruption of the Church. Amongthese Machiavelli stands foremost. In a celebrated passage of the_Discorsi_, [1] after treating the whole subject of the connectionbetween good government and religion, he breaks forth into this fierycriticism of the Papacy: 'Had the religion of Christianity beenpreserved according to the ordinances of its founder, the states andcommonwealths of Christendom would have been far more united and farhappier than they are. Nor is it possible to form a better estimate ofits decay than by observing that, in proportion as we approach nearer tothe Roman Church, the head of this religion, we find less piety prevailamong the nations. Considering the primitive constitution of thatChurch, and noting how diverse are its present customs, we are forced tojudge that without doubt either ruin or a scourge is now impending overit. And since some men are of opinion that the welfare of Italy dependsupon the Church, I wish to put forth such arguments as occur to my mindto the contrary; and of these I will adduce two, which, as I think, areirrefutable. The first is this: that owing to the evil ensample of thePapal Court, Italy has lost all piety and all religion: whence followinfinite troubles and disorders; for as religion implies all good, soits absence implies the contrary. Consequently, to the Church andpriests of Rome we Italians owe this obligation first--that we havebecome void of religion and corrupt. But we also owe them another, evengreater, which is the cause of our ruin. I mean that the Church hasmaintained and still maintains Italy divided. Of a truth no provinceever was united and prosperous, unless it were reduced beneath the swayof one republic or one monarch, as is the case with France and Spain. And the reason why Italy is not in this condition, but has neithercommonwealth nor monarch for her head, is none other than the Church:for the Church, established in our midst and exercising a temporalauthority, has never had the force or vigor to extend its sway over thewhole country and to become the ruling power in Italy. Nor on the otherhand has it been so feeble as not to be able, when afraid of losing itstemporalities, to call in a foreign potentate, as a counterpoise in itsdefense against those powers which threatened to become supreme. Of thetruth of this, past history furnishes many instances; as when, by thehelp of Charlemagne, the Popes expelled the Lombards; and when in ourown days they humbled Venice by the aid of France, and afterwards droveout the French by calling in the Swiss. So then the Church, being on theone hand too weak to grasp the whole of Italy, and at the same time toojealous to allow another power to do so, has prevented our union beneathone head, and has kept us under scattered lords and princes. These havecaused so much discord and debility that Italy has become the prey notonly of powerful barbarians, but also of every assailant. And this weowe solely and entirely to the Church. In order to learn by experiencethe truth of what I say, one ought to be able to send the Roman Court, armed with like authority to that it wields in Italy, to take up itsabode among the Swiss, who at the present moment are the only nationliving, as regards religion and military discipline, according to theantique fashion; he would then see that the evil habits of that Courtwould in no long space of time create more disorders than any othermisfortune that could arise there in any period whatever. ' In thisscientific and deliberate opinion pronounced by the profoundest thinkerof the sixteenth century, the Papacy is accused of having caused boththe moral depravation and the political disunion of Italy. The second ofthese points, which belongs to the general history of the Italiannation, might be illustrated abundantly: but one other sentence from thepen of Machiavelli exposes the ruinous and selfish policy of the Churchmore forcibly than could be done by copious examples:[2] 'In this waythe Pontiffs at one time by love of their religion, at other times forthe furtherance of their ambitious schemes, have never ceased to sow theseeds of disturbance and to call foreigners into Italy, spreading wars, making and unmaking princes, and preventing stronger potentates fromholding the province they were too feeble to rule. '

 [1] Lib. I. Cap. 12. 

 [2] _Ist. Fior. _ lib. I. 

Guicciardini, commenting upon the _Discorsi_ of Machiavelli, begins hisgloss upon the passage I have just translated, with these emphaticwords:[1] 'It would be impossible to speak so ill of the Roman Court butthat more abuse would not be merited, seeing it is an infamy, an exampleof all the shames and scandals of the world. ' He then proceeds to argue, like Machiavelli, that the greatness of the Church prevented Italy frombecoming a nation under one head, showing, however, at the same timethat the Italians had derived much benefit from their division intoseparate states. [2] To the concurrent testimony of these greatphilosophic writers may be added the evidence of a practical statesman, Ferdinand, king of Naples, who in 1493 wrote as follows:[3] 'From yearto year up to this time we have seen the Popes seeking to hurt andhurting their neighbors, without having to act on the defensive orreceiving any injury. Of this we are ourselves the witness, by reason ofthings they have done and attempted against us through their inbornambition; and of the many misfortunes which have happened of late inItaly it is clear that the Popes are authors. ' It is not so much howeverwith the political as with the moral aspect of the Church that we are atpresent concerned: and on the latter point Guicciardini may once more beconfronted with his illustrious contemporary. In his aphorisms hesays:[4] 'No man hates the ambition, avarice, and effeminacy of thepriests more than I do; for these vices, odious in themselves, are mostunseemly in men who make a profession of living in special dependence onthe Deity. Besides, they are so contradictory that they cannot becombined except in a very extraordinary subject. My position underseveral Popes has compelled me to desire their aggrandizement for thesake of my own profit. [5] Otherwise, I should have loved Martin Lutherlike myself--not that I might break loose from the laws whichChristianity, as it is usually interpreted and comprehended, imposes onus, but that I might see that horde of villains reduced within duelimits, and forced to live either without vices or without power. '

 [1] Guicc. _Op. Ined. _ vol. I. P. 27. 

 [2] In another place (_Op. Ined. _ vol. I. P. 104) Guicciardini describes the rule of priests as founded on violence of two sorts; 'perchè ci sforzano con le armi temporali e con le spirituali. ' It may be well to collect the chief passages in Machiavelli and Guicciardini, besides those already quoted, which criticise the Papacy in relation to Italian politics. The most famous is at the end of the fourth book of the _Istoria d' Italia_ (Edn. Rosini, vol. Ii. Pp. 218-30). Next may be placed the sketch of Papal History in Machiavelli's _Istorie Fiorentine_ (lib. I. Cap. 9-25). The eleventh chapter of the _Principe_ gives a short sketch of the growth of the temporal power, so framed as to be acceptable to the Medici, but steeped in the most acid irony. See, in particular, the sentence 'Costoro solo hanno stati e non li difendono, hanno sudditi e non li governano, ' etc. 

 [3] See the dispatch quoted by Gregorovius, _Stadt Rom_, vol. Vii. P. 7, note. 

 [4] _Op. Ined. Ricordi_ No. 28. Compare Ariosto, Satire i. 208-27. 

 [5] Guicciardini had been secretary and vicegerent of the Medicean Popes. See back, p. 206. 

These utterances are all the more remarkable because they do not proceedfrom the deep sense of holiness which animated reformers likeSavonarola. Machiavelli was not zealous for the doctrines ofChristianity so much as for the decencies of an established religion. Inone passage of the _Discorsi_ he even pronounces his opinion that theChristian faith compared with the creeds of antiquity, had enfeeblednational spirit. [1] Privately, moreover, he was himself stained with themoral corruption which he publicly condemned. Guicciardini, again, inthe passage before us, openly avows his egotism. Keen-sighted as theywere in theory, these politicians suffered in their own lives from thatgangrene which had penetrated the upper classes of Italy to the marrow. Their patriotism and their desire for righteousness were not strongenough to make them relinquish the pleasure and the profit they derivedfrom the existing state of things. Nor had they the energy or theopportunity to institute a thorough revolution. Italy, as Machiavellipointed out in another passage of the _Discorsi_, had become tooprematurely decrepit for reinvigorating changes;[2] and the splendidappeal with which the _Principe_ is closed must even to its author havesounded like a flourish of rhetorical trumpets. 

 [1] _Discorsi_, ii. 2, iii. 1. These chapters breathe the bitterest contempt for Christianity, the most undisguised hatred for its historical development, the intensest rancor against Catholic ecclesiastics. 

 [2] _Discorsi_, i. 55. 

Moreover, it seemed impossible for an Italian to rise above theconception of a merely formal reformation, or to reach that higherprinciple of life which consists in the enunciation of a new religioustruth. The whole argument in the _Discorsi_ which precedes the chapter Ihave quoted, treats religion not in its essence as pure Christianity, but as a state engine for the maintenance of public order and nationalwell-being. [1] That Milton and Cromwell may have so regarded religion istrue: but they had, besides, a personal sense of the necessity ofrighteousness, the fear of God, at the root of their politicalconvictions. While Machiavelli and Guicciardini wished to deprive thePopes of temporal sovereignty, in order that the worst scandals of theirCourt might be suppressed, and that the peace of Italy might be secured, Savonarola desired to purge the Church of sin, but to retain itshierarchy and its dogmas inviolate. Neither the politicians nor theprophet had discerned, what Luther and the nations of the North sawclearly, that a fresh element of spiritual vitality was necessary forthe regeneration of society; or in other words, that good governmentpresupposes living religion, and not that religion should be used as anengine for the consolidation of empire over the people. [2]

 [1] Mach. _Disc. _ i. 12, after exposing the shams on which, as he believed, the religious institutions of Numa rested, asserts that, however much governors may be persuaded of the falseness of religions, it is their duty to maintain them: 'e debbono . .. Come che le giudicassero false, favorirle e accrescerle. '

 [2] Yet read the curious passage (_Disc_. Iii. 1) in which Machiavelli discusses the regeneration of religion by a return to its vital principle, and shows how S. Francis and S. Dominic had done this in the thirteenth century. It was precisely what Luther was designing while Machiavelli was writing. 

The inherent feebleness of Italy in this respect proceeded from anintellectual apathy toward religious questions, produced partly by thestigma attaching to unorthodoxy, partly by the absorbing interests ofsecular culture, partly by the worldliness of the Renaissance, partly bythe infamy of the ecclesiastics, and partly by the enervating influenceof tyrannies. However bold a man might be, he dread of heretic; the term_paterino_, originally applied to religious innovators, had becomesynonymous in common phraseology with rogue. It was a point of goodsociety and refined taste to support the Church. Again, the mentalfaculties of Italy had for three centuries been taxed to the utmost instudies wide apart from the field of religious faith. Art, scholarship, philosophy, and meditation upon politics had given a definite directionto the minds of thinking men, so that little energy was left for thoseinstinctive movements of the spirit which produced the GermanReformation. The great work of Italy had been the genesis of theRenaissance, the development of modern culture. And the tendencies ofthe Renaissance were worldly: its ideal of human life left no room for apure, and ardent intuition into spiritual truth. Scholars occupied withthe interpretation of classic authors, artists bent upon investingcurrent notions with the form of beauty, could hardly be expected toexclaim: 'The fear of the Lord, that is wisdom; and to depart from evil, that is understanding. '[1] Materialism ruled the speculations no lessthan the conduct of the age. Pamponazzo preached an atheistic doctrine, with the plausible reservation of _Salva Fide_, which then covered all. The more delicate thinkers, Pico and Ficino, sought to reconcileirreconcilables by fusing philosophy and theology, while theydistinguished truths of science from truths of revelation. It seemsmeanwhile to have occurred to no one in Italy that the liberation of thereason necessitated an abrupt departure from Catholicism. They did notperceive that a power antagonistic to mediæval orthodoxy had beengenerated. This was in great measure due to indifference; for the Churchherself had taught her children by example to regard her dogmas and herdiscipline as a convenient convention. It required all the scourges ofthe Inquisition to flog the nation back, not to lively faith, but tohypocrisy. Furthermore, the political conditions of Italy were highlyunfavorable to a profound religious revolution. The thirst for nationalliberty which inspired England in the sixteenth century, impelling thedespotic Tudors to cast off the yoke of Rome, arming Howard the Catholicagainst the holy fleet of Philip, and joining prince and people in oneaspiration after freedom, was impossible in Italy. The tone ofMachiavelli's _Principe_, the whole tenor of Castiglione's _Cortigiano_, prove this without the need of further demonstration. 

 [1] It is well known that Savonarola's objection to classical culture was based upon his perception of its worldliness. It is very remarkable to note the feeling on this point of some of the greatest northern scholars. Erasmus, for example, writes: 'unus adhuc scrupulus habet animum meum, ne sub obtentu priscæ literaturæ renascentis caput erigere conetur Paganismus, ut sunt inter Christianos qui titulo pæne duntaxat Christum agnoscunt, ceterum intus Gentilitatem spirant'--Letter 207 (quoted by Milman in his Quarterly article on Erasmus). Ascham and Melanchthon passed similar judgments upon the Italian scholars. The nations of the north had the Italians at a disadvantage, for they entered into their labors, and all the dangerous work of sympathy with the ancient world, upon which modern scholarship was based, had been done in Italy before Germany and England came into the field. 

Few things are more difficult than to estimate the exact condition of apeople at any given period with regard to morality and religion. Andthis difficulty is increased tenfold when the age presents such rapidtransitions and such bewildering complexities as mark the Renaissance. Yet we cannot omit to notice the attitude of the Italians at large inrelation to the Church, and to determine in some degree the character oftheir national morality. Against the corruption of Rome one cry ofhatred and contempt arises from a crowd of witnesses. Dante's fierydenunciations, Jacopone's threats, the fierce invectives of Petrarch, and the thundering prophecies of Joachim lead the chorus. Boccacciofollows with his scathing irony. 'Send the most obstinate Jew to Rome, 'he says, 'and the profligacy of the Papal Court will not fail to converthim to the faith that can resist such obloquy. '[1] Another glaringscandal was the condition of the convents. All novelists combine inpainting the depravity of the religious houses as a patent fact insocial life. Boccaccio, Sacchetti, Bandello, and Masuccio may bementioned in particular for their familiar delineation of a profligacywhich was interwoven with the national existence. [2] The comic poetstake the same course, and delight in ridiculing the gross manners of theclergy. Nor do the ecclesiasties spare themselves. Poggio, the authorof the _Facetiæ_, held benefices and places at the Papal Court. Bandellowas a Dominican and nephew of the General of his order. Folengo was aBenedictine. Bibbiena became a cardinal. Berni received a Canonry in theCathedral of Florence. Such was the open and acknowledged immorality ofthe priests in Rome that more than one Papal edict was issued forbiddingthem to keep houses of bad repute or to act as panders. [3] Among theaphorisms of Pius II. Is recorded the saying that if there were goodreasons for enjoining celibacy on the clergy, there were far better andstronger arguments for insisting on their marriage. [4]

 [1] We may compare this Umbrian Rispetto for the opposite view. 

 A Roma Santa ce so gito anch'io, E ho visto co'miei occhi il fatto mio: E quando a Roma ce s'e posto il piede, Resta la rabbia e se ne va la fede. 

 [2] It may not be out of place to collect some passages from Masuccio's Novelle on the Clergy, premising that what he writes with the fierceness of indignation is repeated with the cynicism of indulgence by contemporary novelists. Speaking of the Popes, he says (ed, Napoli, Morano, 1874): 'me tacerò non solo de loro scelesti ed enormissimi vizi e pubblici e occulti adoperati, e de li officii, de beneficil, prelature, i vermigli cappelli, che all' incanto per loro morte vendono, ma del camauro del principe San Pietro che ne è gia stato latto partuito baratto non farò alcuna mentione. ' Descending to prelates, he uses similar language (p. 64): 'non possa mai pervenire ad alcun grado di prelatura se non col favore del maestro della zecca, e quelle conviensela comprare all' incanto come si fa dei cavalli in fiera. ' A priest is (p. 31) 'il venerabile lupo. ' The members of religious orders are (p. 534) 'ministri de satanasso . .. Soldati del gran diavolo: (p. 25) 'piu facilmente tra cento soldati se ne trovarebbero la meta buoni, che tra tutto un capitolo de frati ne fosse uno senza bruttissima macchia. ' It is perilous to hold any communication with them (p. 39): 'Con loro non altri che usurai, fornicatori, e omini di mala sorte conversare si vedeno. ' Their sins against nature (p. 65), the secret marriages of monks and nuns (p. 83), the 'fetide cioache oi monache, ' choked with the fruits of infanticide (p. 81), not to mention their avarice (p. 55) and gross impiety (p. 52), are described with a naked sincerity that bears upon its face the stamp of truth. 

 [3] A famous passage from Agrippa (De Vanitate Scientiarum) deserves a place here. After alluding to Sixtus IV, he says that many state officers 'in civitatibus suis lupanaria construunt foventque, non nihil ex meretricio questu etiam ærario suo accumulantes emolumenti; quod quidem in Italiâ non rarum est, ubi etiam Romana scorta in singulas hebdomadas Julium pendent Pontifici, qui census annuus nonnunquam viginti millia ducatos excedit, adeoque Ecclesiæ procerum id munus est, ut una cum Ecclesiarum proventibus etiam lenociniorum numerent mercedem. Sic enim ego illos supputantes aliquando audivi: Habet, inquientes, ille duo beneficia, unum curaturn aureorum viginti, alterum prioratum ducatorum quadraginta, el tres putanas in burdello, quæ reddunt singulis hebdomadibus Julios Viginti. '

 [4] Very few ecclesiastics of high rank escaped the contagion of Roman society. It was fashionable for men like Bembo and La Casa to form connections with women of the _demi-monde_ and to recognize their children, whose legitimation they frequently procured. The Capitoli of the burlesque poets show that this laxity of conduct was pardonable, when compared with other laughingly avowed and all but universal indulgences. Once more, compare Guidiccioni's letter to M. Giamb. Bernardi Opp. Vol. I. P. 102. 

Some of the contempt and hatred expressed by the Italian satirists forthe two great orders of S. Francis and S. Dominic may perhaps be due toan ancient grudge against them as a Papal police founded in theinterests of orthodoxy. But the chief point aimed at is the mixture ofhypocrisy with immorality, which rendered them odious to all classes ofsociety. At the same time the Franciscans embraced among their laybrethren nearly all the population of Italy, and to die in the habit ofthe order was thought the safest way of cheating the devil of his due. Corruption had gone so far and deep that it was universally recognizedand treated with the sarcasm of levity. It roused no sincere reaction, and stimulated no persistent indignation. Every one acknowledged it; yetevery one continued to live indolently according to the fashion of hisforefathers, acting up to Ovid's maxim--

 Pro magna parte vetustas Creditur; acceptam parce movere fidem. 

It is only this incurable indifference that renders Machiavelli's comicportraits of Fra Alberigo and Fra Timoteo at all intelligible. They areneither satires nor caricatures, but simple pictures drawn for theamusement of contemporaries and the stupefaction of posterity. 

The criticism of the Italian writers, so far as we have yet followed it, was directed against two separate evils--the vicious worldliness ofRome, and the demoralization of the clergy both in their dealings withthe people and in their conventual life. Contempt for false miracles andspurious reliques, and the horror of the traffic in indulgences, swelled the storm of discontent among the more enlightened. But thepeople continued to make saints, to adore wonder-working shrines, and toprofit by the spiritual advantages which could be bought. Pius II. , mindful of the honor of his native city, canonized S. Bernardine and S. Catherine of Siena. Innocent VIII consecrated a chapel for the Lance ofLonginus, which he had received from the Turk as part-payment for theguardianship of Djem. The Venetian Senate offered 10, 000 ducats for theseamless coat of Christ (1455). The whole of Italy was agitated by thenews that S. Andrew's head had arrived from Patras (1462). The Pope andhis Cardinals went forth to meet it near the Milvian bridge. There PiusII. Pronounced a Latin speech of welcome, while Bessarion delivered anoration when the precious member was deposited in S. Peter's. In thispassion for reliques two different sentiments seem to have beencombined--the merely superstitious belief in the efficacy of charms, which caused the Venetians to guard the body of S. Mark so jealously, and the Neapolitans to watch the liqifaction of the blood of S. Januarius with a frenzy of excitement--and that nobler respect for thepersons of the mighty dead which induced Sigismondo Malatesta totransport the body of Gemistus Pletho to Rimini, and which rendered thesupposed coffin of Aristotle at Palermo an object of admiration toMussulman and Christian alike. The bones of Virgil, it will beremembered, had been built into the walls of Naples, while those of Livywere honored with splendid sepulture at Padua. 

Owing to the separation between religion and morality which existed inItaly under the influence of Papal and monastic profligacy, the Italianssaw no reason why spiritual benefits should not be purchased from anotoriously rapacious Pontiff, or why the penalty of hell should notdepend upon the mere word of a consecrated monster. The Pope assuccessor of S. Peter, and the Pope as Roman sovereign, were twoseparate beings. Many curious indications of the mixed feeling of thepeople upon this point, and of the advantage which the Pope derived fromhis anomalous position, may be gathered from the historians of theperiod. Machiavelli, in his narrative of the massacre at Sinigaglia, relates that Vitellozzo Vitelli, while being strangled by CesareBorgia's assassin, begged hard that the father of his murderer, thehorrible Alexander, might be entreated to pronounce his absolution. Thesame Alexander was nearly suffocated in the Vatican by the Frenchsoldiers who crowded round to kiss his mantle, and who had made himtremble for his life a few days previously. Cellini on his kneesimplored Pope Clement to absolve him from the guilt of homicide andtheft, yet spoke of him as 'transformed to a savage beast' by a suddenaccess of fury. At one time he trembled before the awful Majesty ofChrist's Vicar, revealed in Paul III. ; at another he reviled him as aman 'who neither believed in God nor in any other article of religion. A mysterious sanctity environed the person of the Pontiff. WhenGianpaolo Baglioni held Julius II. In his power in Perugia, he respectedthe Pope's freedom, though he knew that Julius would overthrow histyranny. Machiavelli condemns this as cowardice, but it was whollyconsistent with the sentiment of the age. 'It cannot have been goodnessor conscience which restrained him, ' writes the philosopher of Florence, 'for the heart of a man who cohabited with his sister, and had massacredhis cousins and his nephews, could not have harbored any piety. We mustconclude that men know not how to be either guilty in a noble manner, orentirely good. Although crime may have a certain grandeur of its own, orat least a mixture of more generous motives, they do not attain to this. Gianpaolo, careless though he was about incest and parricide, could not, or dared not, on a just occasion, achieve an exploit for which the wholeworld would have admired his spirit, and by which he would have wonimmortal glory: for he would have been the first to show how littleprelates, living and ruling as they do, deserve to be esteemed, andwould have done a deed superior in its greatness to all the infamy, toall the peril, that it might have brought with it. '[1] It is difficultto know which to admire most, the superstition of Gianpaolo, or thecynicism of the commentary, the spurious piety which made the tyrantmiss his opportunity, or the false standard of moral sublimity by whichthe half-ironical critic measures his mistake. In combination theyproduce a lively impression of the truth of what I have attempted toestablish--that in Italy at this period religion survived assuperstition even among the most depraved, and that the crimes of theChurch had produced a schism between this superstition and morality. 

 [1] _Discorsi_, i. 27. This episode in Gianpaolo Baglioni's life may be illustrated by the curious story told about Gabrino Fondulo, the tyrant of Cremona. The Emperor Sigismund and Pope John XXIII. Were his guests together in the year 1414. Part of their entertainment consisted in visiting the sights of Cremona with their host, who took them up the great Tower (396 feet high) without any escort. They all three returned safely, but when Gabrino was executed at Milan in 1425, he remarked that he only regretted one thing in the course of his life--namely, that he had not pitched Pope and Emperor together from the Torazzo. What a golden opportunity to have let slip! The story is told by Antonio Campo, _Historia di Cremona_ (Milan, 1645), p. 114. 

While the Church was thus gradually deviating more and more directlyfrom the Christian ideal, and was exhibiting to Italy an ensample ofworldliness and evil living, the Italians, earlier than any otherEuropean nation, had become imbued with the spirit of the ancient world. Instead of the Gospel and the Lives of the Saints, men studied Plutarchand Livy with avidity. The tyrannicides of Greece and the suicides ofthe Roman Empire, patriots like Harmodius and Brutus, philosophers likeSeneca and Pætus Thrasea, seemed to the humanists of the fifteenthcentury more admirable than the martyrs and confessors of the faith. Pagan virtues were strangely mingled with confused and ill-assimilatedprecepts of the Christian Church, while pagan vices wore a halo borrowedfrom the luster of the newly found and passionately welcomed poets ofantiquity. Blending the visionary intuitions of the Middle Ages with thepositive and mundane ethics of the ancients, the Italians of theRenaissance strove to adopt the sentiments and customs of an age longdead and not to be resuscitated. At the same time the rhetorical tasteof the nation inclined the more adventurous and passionate natures toseek glory by dramatic exhibitions of personal heroism. The Greek idealof [Greek: _to êalon_], the Roman conception of _Virtus_, agitated theimagination of a people who had been powerfully influenced by professorsof eloquence, by public orators, by men of letters, masters in the artsof style and of parade. Painting and sculpture, and that magnificence ofpublic life which characterized the fifteenth century, contributed tothe substitution of æsthetic for moral or religious standards. Actionswere estimated by the effect which they produced; and to sin against thelaws of culture was of more moment than to transgress the code ofChristianity. Still, the men of the Renaissance could not forget thecreed which they had drawn in with their mothers' milk, but which theChurch had not adjusted to the new conditions of the growing age. Theresult was a wild phantasmagoric chaos of confused and clashinginfluences. 

Of this peculiar moral condition the records of the numeroustyrannicides supply many interesting examples. [1] Girolamo Olgiatioffered prayers to S. Ambrose for protection before he stabbed the Dukeof Milan in S. Stephen's Church. [2] The Pazzi conspirators, intimidatedby the sanctity of the Florentine Duomo, had to employ a priest to wieldthe sacrilegious dagger. [3] Pietro Paolo Boscoli's last confession, after the failure of his attempt to assassinate the Medici in 1513, addsfurther details in illustration of the mixture of religious feeling withpatriotic paganism. Luca della Robbia, the nephew of the great sculptorof that name, and himself no mean artist, visited his friend Boscoli onthe night of his execution, and wrote a minute account of theirinterview. Both of these men were members of the Confraternità de' Neri, who assumed the duty of comforting condemned prisoners with spiritualcounsel, prayer, and exhortation. The narrative, dictated in thechoicest vernacular Tuscan, by an artist whose charity and beauty ofsoul transpire in every line in contrast with the fiercer fortitude ofBoscoli, is one of the most valuable original documents for this periodwhich we possess. [4] What is most striking is the combination of deeplyrooted and almost infantine piety with antique heroism in the youngpatriot. He is greatly concerned because, ignorant of his approachingend, he had eaten a hearty supper: 'Son troppo carico di cibo, et homangiatccose insalate; in modo che non mi pare poter unir Io spirito aDio . .. Iddio abbi di me misericordia, che costoro m' hanno carico dicibo. Oh indiscrezione!'[5] Then he expresses a vehement desire for theservices of a learned confessor, to resolve his intellectual doubts, pleading with all the earnestness of desperate conviction that thesalvation of his soul must depend upon his orthodoxy at the last. Hecomplains that he ought to have been allowed at least a month'sseclusion with good friars before he was brought face to face withdeath. At another time he is chiefly anxious to free himself fromclassic memories: 'Deh! Luca, cavatemi della testa quel Bruto, acciò ch'io faccia questo passo interamente da Cristiano'. [6] Then again itgrieves him that the tears of compunction, which he has been taught toregard as the true sign of a soul at one with God, will not flow. Aboutthe mere fact of dying he has no anxiety. The philosophers havestrengthened him upon that point. He is only eager to die piously. Whenhe tries to pray, he can barely remember the Paternoster and the AveMaria. That reminds him how easy it would have been to have spent histime better, and he bids Luca remember that the mind a man makes forhimself in life, will be with him in death. When they bring him apicture of Christ, he asks whether he needs _that_ to fix his soul uponhis Saviour. Throughout this long contention of so many varyingthoughts, he never questions the morality of the act for which he iscondemned to die. Luca, however, has his doubts, and privately asks theconfessor whether S. Thomas Aquinas had not discountenanced tyrannicide. 'Yes, ' answers the monk, 'in case the people have elected their owntyrant, but not when he has imposed himself on them by force. ' Thiscasuistical answer satisfies Luca that his friend may reasonably be heldblameless. After confessing, Boscoli received the sacrament with greatpiety, and died bravely. The confessor told Luca, weeping, that he wassure the young man's soul had gone straight to Paradise, and that hemight be reckoned a real martyr. His head after death was like that ofan angel; and Luca was, we know, a connoisseur in angels' heads. Boscoliwas only thirty-two years of age; he had light hair, and wasshort-sighted. 

 [1] For the Italian ethics of tyrannicide, see back, pp. 169, 170. 

 [2] See p. 166. 

 [3] See p. 398. 

 [4] It is printed in _Arch. Stor_, vol. I. 

 [5] 'I am over-burdened with food, and I have eaten salt meats; so that I do not seem able to join my spirit to God. .. . God have pity on me, for they have burdened me with food. Oh, how thoughtless of them!' His words cannot be translated. Naïf in the extreme, they become ludicrous in English. 

 [6] 'Ah, Luca, turn that Brutus out of my head, in order that I may take this last step wholly as a Christian man!'

To this narrative might be added the apology written by Lorenzino de'Medici, after the murder of his cousin Alessandro in 1536. [1] He reliesfor his defense entirely upon arguments borrowed from Pagan ethics, andby his treatment of the subject vindicates for himself that name ofBrutus with which Filippo Strozzi in person at Venice, and Varchi andMolsa in Latin epigrams, saluted him. There is no trace of Christianfeeling in this strong and splendid display of rhetorical ability; nordoes any document of the age more forcibly exhibit the extent to whichclassical studies had influenced the morality of the Renaissance. Lorenzino, however, when he wrote it, was not, like Boscoli, upon thepoint of dying. 

 [1] It is printed at the end of the third volume of Varchi, pp. 283-95; compare p. 210. A medal in honor of Lorenzino's tyrannicide was struck with a profile copied from Michael Angelo's bust of Brutus. 

The last thing to perish in a nation is its faith. The whole history ofthe world proves that no anomalies are so glaring, no inconsistencies soparadoxical, as to sap the credit of a religious system which has oncebeen firmly rooted in the habits, instincts, and traditions of a race:and what remains longest is often the least rational portion. Religionsfrom the first are not the product of logical reflection or experiment, but of sentiment and aspiration. They come into being as simpleintuitions, and afterwards invade the province of the reason andassimilate the thought of centuries to their own conceptions. This isthe secret of their strength as well as the source of their weakness. Itis only a stronger enthusiasm, a new intuition, a fresh outburst ofemotional vitality, that can supplant the old:--

 'Cotal rimedio ha questo aspro furore, Tale acqua suole spegner questo fuoco, Come d'asse si trae chiodo con chiodo. '

Criticism from without, internal corruption, patent absurdity, arecomparatively powerless to destroy those habits of belief which oncehave taken hold upon the fancy and the feeling of a nation. The work ofdissolution proceeds in silence and in secret. But the establishedorder subsists until the moment comes for a new synthesis. And in thesixteenth century the necessary impulse of regeneration was to come, notfrom Italy, satisfied with the serenity of her art, preoccupied with herculture, and hardened to the infamy of her corruption, but from theGermany of the barbarians she despised. 

These considerations will help to explain how it was that the Church, inspite of its corruption, stood its ground and retained the respect ofthe people in Italy. We must moreover bear in mind that, bad as it was, it still to some extent maintained the Christian verity. Apart from theRoman Curia and the Convents, there existed a hierarchy of able andGod-fearing men, who by the sanctity of their lives, by the gravity oftheir doctrine, by the eloquence of their preaching, by theirministration to the sick, by the relief of the poor, by the maintenanceof hospitals, Monti di Pietà, schools and orphanages, kept alive in thepeople of Italy the ideal at least of a religion pure and undefiledbefore God. [1] In the tottering statue of the Church some true metalmight be found between the pinchbeck at the summit and the clay of thefoundation. 

 [1] See the life of S. Antonino, the good Archbishop of Florence. 

It must also be remembered how far the worldly interests and domesticsympathies of the Italians were engaged in the maintenance of theirChurch system. The fibers of the Church were intertwined with the veryheartstrings of the people. Few families could not show one or moremembers who had chosen the clerical career, and who looked to Rome forpatronage, employment, and perhaps advancement to the highest honors. The whole nation felt a pride in the Eternal City: patriotic vanity andpersonal interest were alike involved in the maintenance of themetropolis of Christendom, which drew the suites of ambassadors, multitudes of pilgrims, and the religious traffic of the whole of Europeto the shores of Italy. It was easy for Germans and Englishmen to reasoncalmly about dethroning the Papal hierarchy. Italians, however theymight loathe the temporal power, could not willingly forego thespiritual primacy of the civilized world. 

Moreover, the sacraments of the Church, the absolutions, consecrations, and benedictions which priests dispensed or withheld at pleasure, had byno means lost their power. To what extent even the nations of the northstill clung to them is proved by our own Liturgy, framed in the tumultof war with Rome, yet so worded as to leave the utmost resemblance tothe old ritual consistent with the spirit of the Reformation. Far moreimposing were they in their effect upon the imagination of Italians, whohad never dreamed of actual rebellion, who possessed the fountain ofApostolical privileges in the person of the Pope, and whose southerntemperament inclined them to a more sensuous and less metaphysicalconception of Christianity than the Germans or the English. The dread ofthe Papal Interdict was still a reality. Though the clergy of Florence, roused to retaliative fury, might fling back in the teeth of Sixtus suchwords as _leno matris suæ, adulterorum minister, diaboli vicarius_, yetthe people could not long endure 'the niggardly and imperfect rites, thebaptism sparingly administered, the extreme unction or the lastsacrament coldly vouchsafed to the chosen few, the churchyard closedagainst the dead, ' which, to quote the energetic language of DeanMilman, [1] were the proper fruits of the Papal ban, however unjustlyissued and however manfully resisted. 

 [1] Latin Christianity, vol. Vi. P. 361. 

The history of the despots and the Popes, together with the analysis ofMachiavelli's political ethics, prove the demoralization of a society inwhich crimes so extravagant could have their origin, and cynicism sodeliberate could be accepted as a system. Yet it remains in estimatingthe general character of Italian morality to record the judgment passedupon it by foreign nations of a different complexion. The morality ofraces, as of individuals, is rarely otherwise than mixed--virtuebalancing vice and evil vitiating goodness. Still the impressionproduced by Renaissance Italy upon observers from the North was almostwholly bad. Our own ancestors returned from their Italian travels eitherhorrified with what they had witnessed, or else contaminated. Aschamwrites:[1] 'I was once in Italy myself; but I thank God my abode therewas but nine days; and yet I saw in that little time, in one city, moreliberty to sin than ever I heard tell of in our noble City of London innine years. I saw it was there as free to sin, not only without allpunishment, but also without any man's marking, as it is free in theCity of London to choose without all blame whether a man lust to wearshoe or pantocle. ' Robert Greene, who did so much to introduce thenovels of Italy into England, confesses that during his youthful travelsin the south he 'saw and practiced such villany as it is abominable todeclare. '[2] The whole of our dramatic literature corroborates thesewitnesses, while the proverb, _Inglese Italianato è un diavoloincarnato_, quoted by Sidney, Howell, Parker, Ascham, shows howpernicious to the coarser natures of the north were the refined vices ofthe south. What principally struck our ancestors in the morality of theItalians was the license allowed in sensual indulgences, and the badfaith which tainted all public and private dealings. In respect to thelatter point, what has already been said about Machiavelli isenough. [3] Loyalty was a virtue but little esteemed in Italy:engagements seemed made to be broken; even the crime of violence wasaggravated by the crime of perfidy, a bravo's stiletto or a slow poisonbeing reckoned among the legitimate means for ridding men of rivals orfor revenging a slight. Yet it must not be forgotten that the commercialintegrity of the Italians ranked high. In all countries of Europe theycarried on the banking business of monarchs, cities, and privatepersons. 

 [1] _The Schoolmaster;_ edn. 1863, p. 87. The whole discourse on Italian traveling and Italian influence is very curious, when we reflect that at this time contact with Italy was forming the chief culture of the English in literature and social manners. The ninth satire in Marston's _Scourge of Villanie_ contains much interesting matter on the same point. Howell's _Instructions for forreine Travell_ furnishes the following illustration: 'And being in Italy, that great limbique of working braines, he must be very circumspect in his carriage, for she is able to turne a Saint into a devill, and deprave the best natures, if one will abandon himself, and become a prey to dissolute courses and wantonnesse. '

 [2] _The Repentance of Robert Greene_, quoted in the memoir to Dyce's edition of his Dramatic Works. 

 [3] See chapter v. 

With reference to carnal vice, it cannot be denied that the corruptionof Italy was shameful. Putting aside the profligacy of the convents, theCity of Rome in 1490 is reported to have held as many as 6, 800 publicprostitutes, besides those who practiced their trade under the cloak ofconcubinage. [1] These women were accompanied by confederate ruffians, ready to stab, poison, and extort money; thus violence and lust wenthand in hand, and to this profligate lower stratum of society may beascribed the crimes of lawlessness which rendered Rome under InnocentVIII. Almost uninhabitable. Venice, praised for its piety by DeComines, [2] was the resort of all the debauchees of Europe who couldafford the time and money to visit this modern Corinth. Tom Coryat, theeccentric English traveler, gives a curious account of the splendor andrefinement displayed by the demi-monde of the lagoons, and Marstondescribes Venice as a school of luxury in which the monstrous Aretineplayed professor. [3] Of the state of morals in Florence Savonarola'ssermons give the best picture. 

 [1] Infessura, p. 1997. He adds: 'Consideratur modo qualiter vivatur Romæ ubi caput fidei est. ' From what Parent Duchatelet _(Prostitution dans la Ville de Paris, _ p. 27) has noted concerning the tendency to exaggerate the numbers of prostitutes in any given town, we have every reason to regard the estimate of Infessura as excessive. In Paris, in 1854, there were only 4, 206 registered 'filles publiques, ' when the population of the city numbered 1, 500, 000 persons; while those who exercised their calling clandestinely were variously computed at 20, 000 or 40, 000 and upwards to 60, 000. Accurate statistics relating to the population of any Italian city in the fifteenth century do not, unfortunately, exist. 

 [2] _Memoirs, _ lib. Vii. 'C'est la plus triomphante cité que j'ai jamais vue, et qui plus fait d'honneur à ambassadeurs et étrangers, et qui plus sagement se gouverne, _et ou le service de Dieu est le plus solemnellement faict. '_ The prostitutes of Venice were computed to number 11, 654 so far back as the end of the 14th century. See Filiasi, quoted by Mutinelli in his _Annali urbani di Venezia. _

 [3] Satires, ii. 

But the characteristic vice of the Italian was not coarse sensuality. Herequired the fascination of the fancy to be added to the allurement ofthe senses. [1] It is this which makes the Capitoli of the burlesquepoets, of men of note like Berni, La Casa, Varchi, Mauro, Molsa, Dolce, Bembo, Firenzuola, Bronzino, Aretino, and de' Medici, so amazing. Thecrudest forms of debauchery receive the most refined and highly finishedtreatment in poems which are as remarkable for their wit as for theircynicism. A like vein of elaborate innuendo runs through the _CantiCarnascialeschi_ of Florence, proving that however profligate the peoplemight have been, they were not contented with grossness unless seasonedwith wit. The same excitement of the fancy, playing freely in thelawlessness of sensual self-indulgence and heightening the consciousnessof personal force in the agent, rendered the exercise of ingenuity orthe avoidance of peril an enhancement of pleasure to the Italians. Thisis perhaps one of the reasons why all the imaginative compositions ofthe Renaissance, especially the _Novelle, _ turn upon adultery. Judgingby the majority of these romances, by the comedies of the time, and bythe poetry of Ariosto, we are compelled to believe that such illicitlove was merely sensual, and owed its principal attractions to the scopeit afforded for whimsical adventures. Yet Bembo's _Asolani, _Castiglione's panegyric of Platonic Love, and much of the lyrical poetryin vogue warn us to be cautious. The old romantic sentiment expressed bythe Florentines of the thirteenth century still survived to some extent, adding a sort of dignity in form at least to these affections. 

 [1] Much might be written about the play of the imagination which gave a peculiar complexion to the profligacy, the jealousy, and the vengeance of the Italians. I shall have occasion elsewhere to maintain that in their literature at least the Italians were not a highly imaginative race; nor were they subject to those highly wrought conditions of the brooding fancy, termed by the northern nations Melancholy, which Dürer has personified in his celebrated etching, and Burton has described in his _Anatomy. _ But in their love and hatred, their lust and their cruelty, the Italians required an intellectual element which brought the imaginative faculty into play. 

It was due again in a great measure to their demand for imaginativeexcitement in all matters of the sense, to their desire for theextravagant and extraordinary as a seasoning of pleasure, that theItalians came to deserve so terrible a name among the nations forunnatural passions. [1] This is a subject which can hardly be touched inpassing: yet the opinion may be recorded that it belongs rather to thescience of psychopathy than to the chronicle of vulgar lusts. Englishpoets have given us the right key to the Italian temperament, on this ason so many other points. Shelley in his portrait of Francesco Cenci hasdrawn a man in whom cruelty and incest have become appetites of thedistempered soul; the love of Giovanni and Annabella in Ford's tragedyis rightly depicted as more imaginative than sensual. It is no excusefor the Italians to say that they had spiritualized abominable vices. What this really means is that their immorality was nearer that ofdevils than of beasts. But in seeking to distinguish its true character, we must take notice of the highly wrought fantasy which seasoned boththeir luxury and their jealousy, their vengeance and their lust. 

 [1] Italian literature is loud-voiced on this topic. The concluding stanzas of Poliziano's _Orfeo_, recited before the Cardinal of Mantua, the Capitoli of Berni, Bronzino, La Casa, and some of the _Canti Carnasialeschi_, might be cited. We might add Varchi's express testimony as to the morals of Filippo Strozzi, Lorenzino de' Medici, Pier Luigi Farnese, and Clement VII. What Segni (lib. X. P. 409) tells us about the brave Giovanni Bandini is also very significant. In the Life of San Bernardino of Siena, Vespasiano (_Vite di Illustri Uomini_, p. 186) writes: 'L'Italia, ch' era piena di queste tenebre, e aveva lasciata ogni norma di buoni costumi, e non era più chi conoscesse Iddio. Tanto erano sommersi e sepulti ne' maladetti e abbominevoli vizi nefandi! Gli avevano in modo messi in uso, che non temevano nè Iddio nè l'onore del mondo. Maladetta cecità! In tanto eccesso era venuto ogni cosa, che gli scellerati ed enormi vizi non era più chi gli stimasse, per lo maladetto uso che n'avevano fatto . .. Massime il maladetto e abominando e detestando peccato della sodomia. Erano in modo stracorsi in questa cecità, che bisognava che l'onnipotente Iddio facesse un' altra volta piovere dal cielo zolfo e fuoco come egli fece a Sodoma e Gomorra. ' Compare Savonarola passim, the inductions to the Sacre Rappresentazioni, the familiar letters of Machiavelli, and the statute of Cosimo against this vice (year 1542, Sabellii Summa. Venice, 1715; vol. V. P. 287). 

The same is to some extent true of their cruelty. The really cruelnation of the Renaissance was Spain, not Italy. [1] The Italians, as arule, were gentle and humane, especially in warfare. [2] No Italian armywould systematically have tortured the whole population of a capturedcity day after day for months, as the Spaniards did in Rome and Milan, to satisfy their avarice and glut their stolid appetite for blood. Theirrespect for human life again was higher than that of the French orSwiss. They gave quarter to their foes upon the battle-field, and werehorrified with the massacres in cold blood perpetrated at Fivizzano andRapallo by the army of Charles VIII. But when the demon of crueltypossessed the imagination of an Italian, when, like Gian Maria Visconti, he came to relish the sight of torment for its own sake, or when hesought to inspire fear by the spectacle of pain, then no Spaniardsurpassed him in the ingenuity of his devices. In gratifying his thirstfor vengeance he was never contented with mere murder. To obtain apersonal triumph at the expense of his enemy by the display of superiorcunning, by rendering him ridiculous, by exposing him to mental as wellas physical anguish, by wounding him through his affections or his senseof honor, was the end which he pursued. This is why so many acts ofviolence in Italy assumed fantastic forms. Even the country folk showedan infernal art in the execution of their _vendette_. To serve the fleshof children up to their fathers at a meal of courtesy is mentioned, forexample, as one mode of wreaking vengeance in country villages. Thus thehigh culture and æsthetic temperament of the Italians gave anintellectual quality to their vices. Crude lust and bloodshed wereinsipid to their palates: they required the pungent sauce of amelodramatic catastrophe. 

 [1] Those who wish to gain a lively notion of Spanish cruelty in Italy should read, besides the accounts of the Sacco di Roma by Guicciardini and Buonaparte, the narrative of the Sacco di Prato in the _Archivio Storico Italiano_, vol. I. , and Cagnola's account of the Spanish occupation of Milan, ib. Vol. Iii. 

 [2] De Comines more than once notices the humanity shown by the Italian peasants to the French army. 

The drunkenness and gluttony of northern nations for a like reason foundno favor in Italy. It disgusted the Romans beyond measure to witness theswinish excesses of the Germans. Their own sensuality prompted them to arefined Epicureanism in food and drink; on this point, however, it mustbe admitted that the prelates, here as elsewhere foremost in profligacy, disgraced the age of Leo with banquets worthy of Vitellius. [1] We tracethe same play of the fancy, the same promptitude to quicken andintensify the immediate sense of personality at any cost ofafter-suffering, in another characteristic vice of the Italians. Gambling among them was carried further and produced more harm than itdid in the transalpine cities. This we gather from Savonarola'sdenunciations, from the animated pictures drawn by Alberti in his_Trattato della Famiglia_ and _Cena della Famiglia_ and also from theinductions to many of the _Sacre Rappresentazioni_. [2]

 [1] See Gregorovius, _Stadt Rom_, vol. Viii. P. 225: 'E li cardinali comenzarono a vomitar e cussi li altri, ' quoted from Sanudo. 

 [2] One of the excellent characteristics of Alfonso the Great (_Vespasiano_, p. 49) was his abhorrence of gambling. 

Another point which struck a northern visitor in Italy was the frequencyof private and domestic murders. [1] The Italians had and deserved a badreputation for poisoning and assassination. To refer to the deeds ofviolence in the history of a single family, the Baglioni of Perugia, asrecorded by their chronicler Matarazzo; to cite the passages in whichVarchi relates the deaths by poison of Luisa Strozzi, Cardinal Ippolitode' Medici, and Sanga; or to translate the pages of annalists, whodescribe the palaces of nobles swarming with _bravi_, would be a veryeasy task. [2] But the sketch of Benvenuto Cellini's autobiography, whichwill form part of my third volume, gives so lively a picture of thisaspect of Italian life, that there is no reason to enlarge upon thetopic now. It is enough to observe that, in their employment of poisonand of paid assassins, the Italians were guided by those habits ofcalculation which distinguished their character. [3] They thought nothingof removing an enemy by craft or violence: but they took no pleasure inmurder for its own sake. [4] The object which they had in view promptedthem to take a man's life; the mere delight in brawls and bloodshed ofSwitzers, Germans, and Spaniards offended their taste. 

 [1] See Guicc. _St. Il. _ vol. I. P. 101, for the impression produced upon the army of Charles by the murder by poison of Gian Galeazzo Sforza. 

 [2] A vivid illustration of the method adopted by hired assassins in tracking and hunting down their victims is presented by Francesco Bibboni's narrative of his murder of Lorenzino de' Medici at Venice. It casts much curious light, moreover, on the relations between paid _bravi_ and their employers, the esteem in which professional cutthroats were held, and their connection with the police of the Italian towns. It is published in a tract concerning Lorenzino, Milano, Daelli, 1862. 

 [3] See the instructions given by the Venetian government to their agents for the purchase of poison and the hiring of secret murderers. See also the Maxims laid down by Sarpi. 

 [4] This at least was accounted eccentric and barbarous in the extreme. See Pontano, _de Immanitate_, vol. I. P. 326, concerning Niccolo Fortibraccio, Antonio, Pontadera, and the Riccio Montechiaro, who stabbed and strangled for the pleasure of seeing men die. I have already discussed the blood-madness of some of the despots. 

While the imagination played so important a part in the morality of theItalians, it must be remembered that they were deficient in that whichis the highest imaginative safeguard against vice, a scrupulous sense ofhonor. It is true that the Italian authors talk much about _Onore_. Pandolfini tells his sons that _Onore_ is one of the qualities whichrequire the greatest thrift in keeping, and Machiavelli asserts that itis almost as dangerous to attack men in their _Onore_ as in theirproperty. But when we come to analyze the word, we find that it meanssomething different from that mixture of conscience, pride, andself-respect which makes a man true to a high ideal in all the possiblecircumstances of life. The Italian _Onore_ consisted partly of thecredit attaching to public distinction, and partly of a reputation for_Virtù_, understanding that word in its Machiavellian usage, as force, courage, ability, virility. It was not incompatible with craft anddissimulation, or with the indulgence of sensual vices. Statesmen likeGuicciardini, who, by the way, has written a fine paragraph upon thevery word in question, [1] did not think it unworthy of their honor totraffic in affairs of state for private profit. Machiavelli not onlyrecommended breaches of political faith, but sacrificed his principlesto his pecuniary interests with the Medici. It would be curious toinquire how far the obtuse sensibility of the Italians on this point wasdue to their freedom from vanity. [2] No nation is perhaps lessinfluenced by mere opinion, less inclined to value men by theiradventitious advantages: the Italian has the courage and theindependence of his personality. It is, however, more important to takenotice that Chivalry never took a firm root in Italy; and honor, asdistinguished from vanity, _amour propre_, and credit, draws its lifefrom that ideal of the knightly character which Chivalry established. The true knight was equally sensitive upon the point of honor, in allthat concerned the maintenance of an unsullied self, whether he foundhimself in a king's court or a robber's den. Chivalry, as epitomized inthe celebrated oath imposed by Arthur on his peers of the Round Table, was a northern, a Teutonic, institution. The sense of honor which formedits very essence was further developed by the social atmosphere of amonarch's court. It became the virtue of the nobly born and chivalrouslynurtured, as appears very remarkably in this passage from Rabelais[3]:'En leur reigle n'estoit que ceste clause: Fay ce que vouldras. Parceque gens liberes, bien nayz, bien instruictz, conversans en compaignieshonnesties, ont par nature ung instinct et aguillon qui toujours lespoulse à faitctz vertueux, et retire de vice: lequel ils nommoyenthonneur. ' Now in Italy not only was Chivalry as an institution weak; butthe feudal courts in which it produced its fairest flower, the knightlysense of honor, did not exist. [4] Instead of a circle of peers gatheredfrom all quarters of the kingdom round the font of honor in the personof the sovereign, commercial republics, forceful tyrannies, and thePapal Curia gave the tone to society. In every part of the peninsularich bankers who bought and sold cities, adventurers who grasped atprincipalities by violence or intrigue, and priests who sought theaggrandizement of a sacerdotal corporation, were brought together in themeshes of diplomacy. The few noble families which claimed a feudalorigin carried on wars for pay by contract in the interest of burghers, popes, or despots. Of these conditions not one was conducive to thesense of honor as conceived in France or England. Taken altogether andin combination, they could not fail to be eminently unfavorable to itsdevelopment. In such a society Bayard and Sir Walter Manny would havebeen out of place: the motto _noblesse oblige_ would have had but littlemeaning. [5] Instead of Honor, Virtù ruled the world in Italy. The moralatmosphere again was critical and highly intellectualized. Mentalability combined with personal daring gave rank. But the very subtletyand force of mind which formed the strength of the Italians provedhostile to any delicate sentiment of honor. Analysis enfeebles the tactand spontaneity of feeling which constitute its strongest safeguard. Allthis is obvious in the ethics of the _Principe_. What most astounds usin that treatise is the assumption that no men will be bound by laws ofhonor when utility or the object in view require their sacrifice. Inconclusion; although the Italians were not lacking in integrity, honesty, probity, or pride, their positive and highly analytical geniuswas but little influenced by that chivalrous honor which was anenthusiasm and a religion to the feudal nations, surviving the decay ofchivalry as a preservative instinct more undefinable than absolutemorality. Honor with the northern gentry was subjective; with theItalians _Onore_ was objective--an addition conferred from without, inthe shape of reputation, glory, titles of distinction, or offices oftrust. [6]

 [1] Ricordi politici e civili, No. 118, _Op. Ined. _ vol. I. 

 [2] See De Stendhal, _Histoire de la peinture en Italie_, pp. 285-91, for a curious catalogue of examples. The modern sense of honor is based, no doubt, to some extent on a delicate _amour propre_, which makes a man desirous of winning the esteem of his neighbors for its own sake. Granting that conscience, pride, vanity, and self-respect are all constituents of honor, we may, perhaps, find more pride in the Spanish, more _amour propre_ in the French, and more conscience in the English. 

 [3] Gargantua, lib. 1. Ch. 57. 

 [4] See, however, what I have already said about Castiglione and his ideal of the courtier in Chapter III. We must remember that he represents a late period of the Renaissance. 

 [5] It is curious to compare, for example, the part played by Italians, especially by Venice, Pisa, Genoa, Amalfi, as contractors and merchants in the Crusades, with the enthusiasm of the northern nations. 

 [6] In confirmation of this view I may call attention to Giannotti's critique of the Florentine constitution (Florence, 1850, vol. I. Pp. 15 and 156), and to what Machiavelli says about Gianpaolo Baglioni (_Disc_. I. 27), 'Gli uomini non sanno essere _onorevolmente_ tristi'; men know not how to be bad with credit to themselves. The context proves that Gianpaolo failed to win the honor of a signal crime. Compare the use of the word _onore_ in Lorinzino de' Medici's 'Apologia. '

With the Italian conception of _Onore_ we may compare their view of_Onestà_ in the female sex. This is set forth plainly by Piccolomini in_La Bella Creanza delle Donne_. [1] As in the case of _Onore_, we havehere to deal, not with an exquisite personal ideal, but with somethingfar more material and external. The _onestà_ of a married woman iscompatible with secret infidelity, provided she does not expose herselfto ridicule and censure by letting her amour be known. Here again, therefore, the proper translation of the word seems to be credit. Finally, we may allude to the invective against honor which Tasso putsinto the mouths of his shepherds in _Aminta_[2] Though at this periodthe influence of France and Spain had communicated to aristocraticsociety in Italy an exotic sense of honor, yet a court poet dared tocondemn it as unworthy of the _Bell' età dell' oro_, because itinterfered with pleasure and introduced disagreeable duties into life. Such a tirade would not have been endured in the London of Elizabeth orin the Paris of Louis XIV. Tasso himself, it may be said in passing, wasalmost feverishly punctilious in matters that touched his reputation. 

 [1] _La Raffaella, ovvero Delia bella Creanza delle Donne_ (Milano, Daelli). Compare the statement of the author in his preface, p. 4, where he speaks in his own person, with the definition of _Onore_ given by Raffaella, pp. 50 and 51 of the Dialogue: 'l'onore non è riposto in altro, se non nella stimazione appresso agli uomini . .. L'onor della donna non consiste, come t'ho detto, nel fare o non fare, chè questo importa poco, ma nel credersi o non credersi. '

 [2] This invective might be paralleled from one ot Masuccio's Novelle (ed. Napoli, pp. 389, 390), in which he almost cynically exposes the inconvenience of self-respect and delicacy. The situation of two friends, who agree that honor is a nuisance and share their wives in common, is a favorite of the Novelists. 

An important consideration, affecting the whole question of Italianimmorality, is this. Whereas the northern races had hitherto remained ina state of comparative poverty and barbarism, distributed throughvillages and country districts, the people of Italy had enjoyedcenturies of wealth and civilization in great cities. Their towns werethe centers of luxurious life. The superfluous income of the rich wasspent in pleasure, nor had modern decorum taught them to conceal thevices of advanced culture beneath the cloak of propriety. They were atthe same time both indifferent to opinion and self-conscious in a highdegree. The very worst of them was seen at a glance and recorded withminute particularity. The depravity of less cultivated races remainedunnoticed because no one took the trouble to describe mere barbarism. [1]Vices of the same sort, but less widely dispersed, perhaps, throughoutthe people, were notorious in Italy, because they were combined with somuch that was beautiful and splendid. In a word, the faults of theItalians were such as belong to a highly intellectualized society, asyet but imperfectly penetrated with culture, raised above thebrutishness of barbarians, but not advanced to the self-control ofcivilization, hampered by the corruption of a Church that trafficked incrime, tainted by uncritical contact with pagan art and literature, andemasculated by political despotism. Their vices, bad as they were inreality, seemed still worse because they attacked the imaginationinstead of merely exercising the senses. As a correlative to theirdepravity, we find a sobriety of appetite, a courtesy of behavior, amildness and cheerfulness of disposition, a widely diffused refinementof sentiment and manners, a liberal spirit of toleration, which cannowhere else be paralleled in, Europe at that period. It was no smallmark of superiority to be less ignorant and gross than England, lessbrutal and stolid than Germany, less rapacious than Switzerland, lesscruel than Spain, less vain and inconsequent than France. 

 [1] Read, however, the Saxon Chronicles or the annals of Ireland in Froude. 

Italy again was the land of emancipated individuality. What Mill in hisEssay on Liberty desired, what seems every day more unattainable inmodern life, was enjoyed by the Italians. There was no check to thegrowth of personality, no grinding of men down to match the average. Ifgreat vices emerged more openly than they did elsewhere in Europe, greatqualities also had the opportunity of free development in heroes likeFerrucci, in saints like Savonarola, in artists like Michael Angelo. While the social atmosphere of the Papal and despotic courts wasunfavorable to the highest type of character, we find at least noexternal engine of repression, no omnipotent inquisition, nooverpowering aristocracy. [1] False political systems and a corruptChurch created a malaria, which poisoned the noble spirits ofMachiavelli, Ariosto, Guicciardini, Giuliano della Rovere. It does not, however, follow therefore that the humanities of the race at large, inspite of superstition and bad government, were vitiated. 

 [1] I am of course speaking of the Renaissance as distinguished from that new phase of Italian history which followed the Council of Trent and the Spanish despotism. 

We have positive proofs to the contrary in the art of the Italians. TheApril freshness of Giotto, the piety of Fra Angelico, the virginalpurity of the young Raphael, the sweet gravity of John Bellini, thephilosophic depth of Da Vinci, the sublime elevation of Michael Angelo, the suavity of Fra Bartolommeo, the delicacy of the Della Robbia, therestrained fervor of Rosellini, the rapture of the Sienese and thereverence of the Umbrian masters, Francia's pathos, Mantegna's dignity, and Luini's divine simplicity, were qualities which belonged not only tothese artists but also to the people of Italy from whom they sprang. Ifmen not few of whom were born in cottages and educated in workshopscould feel and think and fashion as they did, we cannot doubt that theirmothers and their friends were pure and pious, and that the race whichgave them to the world was not depraved. Painting in Italy, it must beremembered, was nearer to the people than literature: it was less amatter of education than instinct, a product of temperament rather thanof culture. 

Italian art alone suffices to prove to my mind that the immorality ofthe age descended from the upper stratum of society downwards. Selfishdespots and luxurious priests were the ruin of Italy; and the badqualities of the princes, secular and ecclesiastical, found expressionin the literature of poets and humanists, their parasites. But in whatother nation of the fifteenth century can we show the same of socialurbanity and intellectual light diffused throughout all classes from thehighest to the lowest? It is true that the sixteenth century cast ablight upon their luster. But it was not until Italian taste had beenimpaired by the vices of Papal Rome and by contact with the Spaniardsthat the arts became either coarse or sensual. Giulio Romano (1492-1546)and Benvenuto Cellini (1500-70) mark the beginning of the change. InRiberia, a Spaniard, in Caravaggio, and in the whole school of Bologna, it was accomplished. Yet never at any period did the native Italianmasters learn to love ugliness with the devotion that reveals innategrossness. It remained for Dürer, Rembrandt, and Hogarth to elevate thegrotesque into the region of high art, for Rubens to achieve theapotheosis of pure animalism, for Teniers to devote distinguished geniusto the service of the commonplace. 

In any review of Italian religion and morality, however fragmentary itmay be, as this indeed is, one feature which distinguishes the acutesensibility of the race ought not to be omitted. Deficient in profoundintellectual convictions, incapable of a fixed and radical determinationtowards national holiness, devoid of those passionate and imaginativeintuitions into the mysteries of the world which generate religions andphilosophies, the Italians were at the same time keenly susceptible tothe beauty of the Christian faith revealed to them by inspired orators. What we call Revivalism was an institution in Italy, which the Churchwas too wise to discountenance or to suppress, although the preachers ofrepentance were often insubordinate and sometimes even hostile to thePapal system. The names of Arnold of Brescia, San Bernardino of Siena, John of Vicenza, Jacopo Bussolari, Alberto da Lecce, GiovanniCapistrano, Jacopo della Marca, Girolamo Savonarola, bring before thememory of those who are acquainted with Italian history innumerablepictures of multitudes commoved to tears, of tyrannies destroyed andconstitutions founded by tumultuous assemblies, of hostile parties andvindictive nobles locked in fraternal embraces, of cities clothed insackcloth for their sins, of exhortations to peace echoing by the banksof rivers swollen with blood, of squares and hillsides resonant withsobs, of Lenten nights illuminated with bonfires of Vanity. [1] In themidst of these melodramatic scenes towers the single form of a Dominicanor Franciscan friar: while one voice thundering woe or pleading peacedominates the crowd. Of the temporary effects produced by thesepreachers there can be no question. The changes which they wrought instates and cities prove that the enthusiasm they aroused was more thanmerely hysterical. Savonarola, the greatest of his class, founded notonly a transient commonwealth in Florence, but also a political party ofimportance, and left his lasting impress on the greatest soul of thesixteenth century in Italy--Michael Angelo Buonarroti. There was a realreligious vigor in the people corresponding to the preacher's zeal. Butthe action of this earnest mood was intermittent and spasmodic. Itcoexisted with too much superstition and with passions too vehementlyrestless to form a settled tone of character. In this respect theItalian nation stands not extravagantly pictured in the life of Cellini, whose violence, self-indulgence, keen sense of pleasure, and pagandelight in physical beauty were interrupted at intervals by inexplicableinterludes of repentance, Bible-reading, psalm-singing, and visions. Todelineate Cellini will be the business of a distant chapter. The form ofthe greatest of Italian preachers must occupy the foreground of thenext. 

 [1] I have thrown into an appendix some of the principal passages from the chronicles about revivals in mediæval Italy. 

Before closing the imperfect and scattered notices collected in thischapter, it will be well to attempt some recapitulation of the pointsalready suggested. Without committing ourselves to the dogmatism of atheory, we are led to certain general conclusions on the subject ofItalian society in the sixteenth century. The fierce party quarrelswhich closed the Middle Ages had accustomed the population to violence, and this violence survived in the too frequent occurrence of brutalcrimes. The artificial sovereignty of the despots being grounded uponperfidy, it followed that guile and fraud came to be recognized inprivate no less than public life. With the emergence of the bourgeoisclasses a self-satisfied positivism, vividly portrayed in the person ofCosimo de' Medici, superseded the passions and enthusiasms of a previousage. Thus force, craft, and practical materialism formed the basis ofItalian immorality. Vehement contention in the sphere of politics, restless speculation, together with the loosening of every tie thatbound society together in the Middle Ages, emancipated personality andsubstituted the freedom of self-centered vigor and virility (Virtù) forthe prescriptions of civil or religions order. In the nation that hadshaken off both Papal and Imperial authority no conception of lawremained to control caprice. Instead of law men obeyed the instincts oftheir several characters, swayed by artistic taste or tyrannousappetite, or by the splendid heroism of extinct antiquity. The Churchhad alienated the people from true piety. Yet no new form of religiousbelief arose; and partly through respect for the past, partly throughthe convenience of clinging to existing institutions, Catholicism wasindulgently tolerated. At the same time the humanists introduced anideal antagonistic to Christianity of the monastic type. Withoutabruptly severing themselves from the communion of the Church, and whilein form at least observing all its ordinances, they thought, wrote, spoke, felt, and acted like Pagans. To the hypocrisies of obsoleteasceticism were added the affectations of anachronistic license. Meanwhile, the national genius for art attained its fullest development, simultaneously with the decay of faith, the extinction of politicalliberty, and the anarchy of ethics. So strong was the æsthetic impulsethat it seemed for a while capable of drawing all the forces of thenation to itself. A society that rested upon force and fraud, corrodedwith cynicism, cankered with hypocrisy recognizing no standard apartfrom success in action and beauty in form, so conscious of its owncorruption that it produced no satirist among the many who laughedlightly at its vices, wore the external aspect of exquisite refinement, and was delicately sensitive to every discord. Those who understood thecontradictions of the age most deeply were the least capable of risingabove them Consequently we obtain in Machiavelli's works the idealpicture of personal character, moving to calculated ends byscientifically selected means, none of which are sanctioned by theunwritten code of law that governs human progress. Cosimo's positivismis reduced to theory. Fraud becomes a rule of conduct. Force isadvocated, when the dagger or the poisoned draught or the exterminationof a city may lead the individual straight forward to his object. Religion is shown to be a political engine. Hypocrisy is a mask thatmust be worn. The sanctities of ancient use and custom controllingappetite have no place assigned them in the system. Action is analyzedas a branch of the fine arts; and the spirit of the age, of which thephilosopher makes himself the hierophant, compels him to portray it as asinister and evil art. 

In the civilization of Italy, carried prematurely beyond the conditionsof the Middle Ages, before the institutions of mediævalism had beendestroyed or its prejudices had been overcome, we everywhere discernthe want of a co-ordinating principle. The old religion has died; butthere is no new faith. The Communes have been proved inadequate; butthere is no nationality. Practical positivism has obliterated thevirtues of a chivalrous and feudal past; but science has not yet beenborn. Scholarship floods the world with the learning of antiquity; butthis knowledge is still undigested. Art triumphs; but the æstheticinstinct has invaded the regions of politics and ethics, owing todefective analysis in theory, and in practice to over-confident relianceon personal ability. The individual has attained to freedom; but he hasnot learned the necessity of submitting his volition to law. At allpoints the development of the Italians strikes us as precocious, withthe weakness of precocity scarcely distinguishable from the decay of oldage. A transition from the point attained in the Renaissance to somefirmer and more solid ground was imperatively demanded. But the fatalityof events precluded the Italians from making it. Their evolution, checked in mid career by the brilliant ambition of France and thecautious reactionary despotism of Spain, remained suspended. Studentsare left, face to face with the sixteenth century, to decipher aninscription that lacks its leading verb, to puzzle over a riddle whereofthe solution is hidden from us by the ruin of a people. It must ever bean undecided question whether the Italians, undisturbed by foreigninterference, could have passed beyond the artificial and exceptionalstage of the Renaissance to a sounder and more substantial phase ofnational vitality; or whether, as their inner conscience seems to haveassured them, their disengagement from moral obligation and their mentalferment foreboded an inevitable catastrophe. 

CHAPTER IX. 

SAVONAROLA. 

The Attitude of Savonarola toward the Renaissance--His Parentage, Birth, and Childhood at Ferrara--His Poem on the Ruin of the World--Joins theDominicans at Bologna--Letter to his Father--Poem on the Ruin of theChurch--Begins to preach in 1482--First Visit to Florence--SanGemignano--His Prophecy--Brescia in 1486--Personal Appearance and Styleof Oratory--Effect on his audience--The three Conclusions--HisVisions--Savonarola's Shortcomings as a patriotic Statesman--His sincereBelief in his prophetic Calling--Friendship with Pico dellaMirandola--Settles in Florence, 1490--Convent of San Marco--Savonarola'sRelation to Lorenzo de' Medici--The death of Lorenzo--Sermons of 1493and 1494--the Constitution of 1495--Theocracy in Florence--Piagnoni, Bigi, and Arrabbiati--War between Savonarola and Alexander VI. --TheSignory suspends him from preaching in the Duomo in 1498--Attempts tocall a Council--The Ordeal by Fire--San Marco stormed by the Mob--Trialand Execution of Savonarola. 

Nothing is more characteristic of the sharp contrasts of the ItalianRenaissance than the emergence not only from the same society, but alsofrom the bosom of the same Church, of two men so diverse as the PopeAlexander VI. And the Prophet Girolamo Savonarola. Savonarola has beenclaimed as a precursor of the Lutheran Reformers, and as an inspiredexponent of the spirit of the fifteenth century. In reality he neithershared the revolutionary genius of Luther, which gave a new vitality tothe faiths of Christendom, nor did he sympathize with that freemovement of the modern mind which found its first expression in the artsand humanistic studies of Renaissance Italy. Both toward Renaissance andReform he preserved the attitude of a monk, showing on the one hand anaustere mistrust of pagan culture, and on the other no desire to altereither the creeds or the traditions of the Romish Church. Yet thehistory of Savonarola is not to be dissociated from that of the ItalianRenaissance. He more clearly than any other man discerned the moral andpolitical situation of his country. When all the states of Italy seemedsunk in peace and cradled in prosperity, he predicted war, and felt theimminence of overwhelming calamity. The purification of customs which hepreached was demanded by the flagrant vices of the Popes and by thewickedness of the tyrants. The scourge which he prophesied did in factdescend upon Italy. In addition to this clairvoyance by right of whichwe call him prophet, the hold he took on Florence at a critical momentof Italian history is alone enough to entitle him to more than merelypassing notice. 

Girolamo Savonarola was born at Ferrara in 1452. [1] His grandfatherMichele, a Paduan of noble family, had removed to the capital of theEste princes at the beginning of the fifteenth century. There he heldthe office of court physician; and Girolamo was intended for the sameprofession. But early in his boyhood the future prophet showed signs ofdisinclination for a worldly life, and an invincible dislike of thecourt. Under the House of Este, Ferrara was famous throughout Italy forits gayety and splendor. No city enjoyed more brilliant and morefrequent public shows. Nowhere did the aristocracy maintain so much offeudal magnificence and chivalrous enjoyment. The square castle of redbrick, which still stands in the middle of the town, was thronged withpoets, players, fools who enjoyed an almost European reputation, courtflatterers, knights, pages, scholars and fair ladies. But beneath itscube of solid masonry, on a level with the moat, shut out from daylightby a sevenfold series of iron bars, lay dungeons in which the objects ofthe Duke's displeasure clanked chains and sighed their lives away. [2]Within the precincts of this palace the young Savonarola learned to hatealike the worldly vices and the despotic cruelty against which inafter-life he prophesied and fought unto the death. 

 [1] In this chapter on Savonarola I have made use of Villari's _Life_ (translated by Leonard Horner, Longmans, 1863, 2 vols. ), Michelet's _Histoire de France_, vol. Vii. , Milman's article on Savonarola (John Murray, 1870), Nardi's _Istoria Fiorentina_, book ii. , and the _Memoirs_ of De Comines. 

 [2] See p. 424. 

Of his boyhood we know but little. His biographers only tell us that hewas grave and solitary, frequenting churches, praying with passionatepersistence, obstinately refusing, though otherwise docile, to join hisfather in his visits to the court. Aristotle and S. Thomas Aquinas seemto have been the favorite masters of his study. In fact he refused thenew lights of the humanists, and adhered to the ecclesiastical trainingof the schoolmen. Already at the age of twenty we find him composing apoem in Italian on the Ruin of the World, in which he cries: 'The wholeworld is in confusion: all virtue is extinguished, and all good manners;I find no living light abroad, nor one who blushes for his vices. ' Hispoint of departure had been taken, and the keynote of his life had beenstruck. The sense of intolerable sin that came upon him in Ferrarahaunted him through manhood, set his hand against the Popes and despotsof Italy, and gave peculiar tone to his prophetic utterances. 

The attractions of the cloister, as a refuge from the storms of theworld, and as a rest from the torments of the sins of others, now beganto sway his mind. [1] But he communicated his desire to no one. It wouldhave grieved his father and his mother to find that their son, who was, they hoped, to be a shining light at the court of Ferrara, haddetermined to assume the cowl. At length, however, came the time atwhich he felt that leave the world he must. 'It was on the 23d of April1475, ' says Villari; 'he was sitting with his lute and playing a sadmelody; his mother, as if moved by a spirit of divination, turnedsuddenly round to him, and exclaimed mournfully, My son, that is a signwe are soon to part. He roused himself, and continued, but with atrembling hand, to touch the strings of the lute, without raising hiseyes from the ground. ' This would make a picture: spring twilight inthe quaint Italian room, with perhaps a branch of fig-tree or of bayacross the open window; the mother looking up with anxious face from herneedlework; the youth, with those terrible eyes and tense lips anddilated nostrils of the future prophet, not yet worn by years of care, but strongly marked and unmistakable, bending over the melancholy chordsof the lute, dressed almost for the last time in secular attire. 

 [1] Often in later life Savonarola cried that he had sought the cloister to find rest, but that God had chosen, instead of bringing him into calm waters, to cast him on a tempest-swollen sea. See the Sermon quoted by Villari, vol. I. P. 298. 

On the very next day Girolamo left Ferrara in secret and journeyed toBologna. There he entered the order of S. Dominic, the order of thePreachers, the order of his master S. Thomas, the order too, let usremember, of inquisitorial crusades. The letter written to his fatherafter taking this step is memorable. In it he says: 'The motives bywhich I have been led to enter into a religious life are these: thegreat misery of the world; the iniquities of men, their rapes, adulteries, robberies, their pride, idolatry, and fearful blasphemies:so that things have come to such a pass that no one can be found actingrighteously. Many times a day have I repeated with tears the verse:

 Heu, fuge crudeles terras, fuge littus avarum!

I could not endure the enormous wickedness of the blinded people ofItaly; and the more so because I saw everywhere virtue despised and vicehonored. ' We see clearly that Savonarola's vocation took its origin in adeep sense of the wickedness of the world. It was the same spirit asthat which drove the early Christians of Alexandria into the Thebaid. Austere and haggard, consumed with the zeal of the Lord, he had movedlong enough among the Ferrarese holiday-makers. Those elegant young menin tight hose and particolored jackets, with oaths upon their lips anddeeds of violence and lust within their hearts, were no associates forhim. It is touching, however, to note that no text of Ezekiel orJeremiah, but Virgil's musical hexameter, sounded through his soul thewarning to depart. 

In this year Savonarola composed another poem, this time on the Ruin ofthe Church. In his boyhood he had witnessed the pompous shows whichgreeted Æneas Sylvius, more like a Roman general than a new-made Pope, on his entrance into Ferrara. Since then he had seen the monster Sixtusmount the Papal throne. No wonder if he, who had fled from the world tothe Church for purity and peace, should need to vent his passion in asong. 'Where, ' he cries, 'are the doctors of old times, the saints, thelearning, charity, chastity of the past?' The Church answers bydisplaying her rent raiment and wounded body, and by pointing to thecavern in which she has to make her home. 'Who, ' exclaims the poet, 'haswrought this wrong?' _Una fallace, superba meretrice_--Rome! Then indeedthe passion of the novice breaks in fire:--

 Deh! per Dio, donna, Se romper si potria quelle grandi ale!

The Church replies:--

 Tu píangi e taci: e questo meglio parmi. 

No other answer could be given to Savonarola's impatient yearnings evenby his own hot heart, while he yet remained a young and unknown monk inBologna. Nor, strive as he might strive through all his life, was itgranted to him to break those outspread wings of arrogant Rome. 

The career of Savonarola as a preacher began in 1482, when he was sentfirst to Ferrara and then to Florence on missions by his superiors. Butat neither place did he find acceptance. A prophet has no honor in hisown country; and for pagan-hearted Florence, though destined to be thetheater of his life-drama, Savonarola had as yet no thundrous burden ofinvective to utter. Besides, his voice was sharp and thin; his face andperson were not prepossessing. The style of his discourse was adapted tocloisteral disputations, and overloaded with scholastic distinctions. The great orator had not yet arisen in him. The friar, with all hisdryness and severity, was but too apparent. With what strange feelingsmust the youth have trodden the streets of Florence! In after-days heused to say that he foreknew those streets and squares were destined tobe the scene of his labors. But then, voiceless, powerless, withoutcontrol of his own genius, without the consciousness of his propheticmission, he brooded alone and out of harmony with the beautiful andmundane city. The charm of the hills and gardens of Valdarno, theloveliness of Giotto's tower, the amplitude of Brunelleschi'sdome--these may have sunk deep into his soul. And the subtle temper ofthe Florentine intellect must have attracted his own keen spirit by asecret sympathy. For Florence erelong became the city of his love, thefirst-born of his yearnings. 

In the cloisters of San Marco, enriched with splendid libraries by theliberality of the Medicean princes, he was at peace. The walls of thatconvent had recently been decorated with frescoes by Fra Angelico, evenas a man might crowd the leaves of a missal with illuminations. Amongthese Savonarola meditated and was happy. But in the pulpit and incontact with the holiday folk of Florence he was ill at ease. Lorenzode' Medici overshadowed the whole city. Lorenzo, in whom the paganspirit of the Renaissance, the spirit of free culture, found a properincarnation, was the very opposite of Savonarola, who had already judgedthe classical revival by its fruits, and had conceived a spiritualresurrection for his country. At Florence a passionate love of art andlearning--the enthusiasm which prompted men to spend their fortunes uponMSS. And statues, the sensibility to beauty which produced themasterworks of Donatello and Ghiberti, the thirst for knowledge whichburned in Pico and Poliziano and Ficino--existed side by side withimpudent immorality, religious deadness, cold contempt for truth, andcynical admiration of successful villainy. Both the good and the evilwhich flourished on this fertile soil so luxuriantly were combined inthe versatile genius of the merchant prince, whose policy it was tostifle freedom by caressing the follies, vices, and intellectual tastesof his people. 

The young Savonarola was as yet no match for Lorenzo. And whither couldhe look for help? The reform of morals he so ardently desired was not tobe expected from the Church. Florence well knew that Sixtus had plottedto murder the Medici before the altar at the moment of the elevation ofthe Host. Excommunicated for a deed of justice after the failure of thisPopish plot, the city had long been at war with the pontiff. If anywhereit was in the cells of the philosophers, in that retreat where Ficinoburned his lamp to Plato, in that hall where the Academy crowned theirmaster's bust with laurels, that the more sober-minded citizens foundghostly comfort and advice. But from this philosophy the fervent soul ofSavonarola turned with no less loathing, and with more contempt, thanfrom the Canti Carnascialeschi and Aristophanic pageants of Lorenzo, which made Florence at Carnival time affect the fashions of Athensduring the Dionysia. It is true that Italy owed much to the elevatedtheism developed by Platonic students. While the humanists were exaltingpagan license, and while the Church was teaching the worst kinds ofimmorality, the philosophers kept alive in cultivated minds a sense ofGod. 

But the monk, nourished on the Bible and S. Thomas, valued thisconfusion of spirits and creeds in a chaos of indiscriminate erudition, at a small price. He had the courage in the fifteenth century atFlorence to proclaim that the philosophers were in hell, and that an oldwoman knew more of saving faith than Plato. Savonarola and Lorenzo wereopposed as champions of two hostile principles alike emergent from thevery life of the Renaissance: paganism reborn in the one, the spirit ofthe gospel in the other. Both were essentially modern; for it was thefunction of the Renaissance to restore to the soul of man its doubleheritage of the classic past and Christian liberty, freeing it from thefetters which the Middle Ages had forged. Not yet, however, were Lorenzoand Savonarola destined to clash. The obscure friar at this time waspreaching to an audience of some thirty persons in San Lorenzo, whilePoliziano and all the fashion of the town crowded to the sermons of FraMariano da Genezzano in Santo Spirito. This man flattered the taste ofthe moment by composing orations on the model of Ficino's addresses tothe Academy, and by complimenting Christianity upon its similarity toPlatonism. Who could then have guessed that beneath the cowl of theharsh-voiced Dominican, his rival, burned thoughts that in a few yearswould inflame Florence with a conflagration powerful enough to destroythe fabric of the Medicean despotism?

From Florence, where he had met with no success, Savonarola was sent toSan Gemignano, a little town on the top of a high hill between Florenceand Siena. We now visit San Gemignano in order to study some fadingfrescoes of Gozzoli and Ghirlandajo, or else for the sake of its strangefeudal towers, tall pillars of brown stone, crowded together within thenarrow circle of the town walls. Very beautiful is the prospect fromthese ramparts on a spring morning, when the song of nightingales andthe scent of acacia flowers ascend together from the groves upon theslopes beneath. The gray Tuscan landscape for scores and scores of milesall round melts into blueness, like the blueness of the sky, fleckedhere and there with wandering cloud-shadows. Let those who pace thegrass-grown streets of the hushed city remember that here the firstflash of authentic genius kindled in Savonarola's soul. Here for thefirst time he prophesied: 'The church will be scourged, thenregenerated, and this quickly. ' These are the celebrated threeconclusions, the three points to which Savonarola in all his propheticutterances adhered. 

But not yet had he fully entered on his vocation. His voice was weak;his style uncertain; his soul, we may believe, still wavering betweenstrange dread and awful joy, as he beheld, through many a backwardrolling mist of doubt, the mantle of the prophets descend upon him. Already he had abandoned the schoolmen for the Bible. Already he hadlearned by heart each verse of the Old and New Testaments. Pondering ontheir texts, he had discovered four separate interpretations for everysuggestion of Sacred Writ. For some of the pregnant utterances of theprophets he found hundreds, pouring forth metaphor and illustration inwild and dazzling profusion of audacious, uncouth imagery. The flamewhich began to smoulder in him at San Gemignano burst forth into a blazeat Brescia, in 1486. Savonarola was now aged thirty-four. 'Midway uponthe path of life' he opened the Book of Revelation: he figured to thepeople of Brescia the four-and-twenty elders rising to denounce the sinsof Italy, and to declare the calamities that must ensue. He pictured tothem their city flowing with blood. His voice, which now became theinterpreter of his soul, in its resonance and earnestness and piercingshrillness, thrilled his hearers with strange terror. Already theybelieved his prophecy; and twenty-six years later, when the soldiers ofGaston de Foix slaughtered six thousand souls in the streets of Brescia, her citizens recalled the Apocalyptic warnings of the Dominican monk. 

As Savonarola is now launched upon his vocation of prophecy, this is theright moment to describe his personal appearance and his style ofpreaching. We have abundant material for judging what his features were, and how they flashed beneath the storm of inspiration. [1] FraBartolommeo, one of his followers, painted a profile of him in thecharacter of S. Peter Martyr. This shows all the benignity and grace ofexpression which his stern lineaments could assume. It is a picture ofthe sweet and gentle nature latent within the fiery arraigner of hisnation at the bar of God. In contemporary medals the face appears hard, keen, uncompromising, beneath its heavy cowl. But the noblest portraitis an intaglio engraved by Giovanni della Corniole, now to be seen inthe Uffizzi at Florence. Of this work Michael Angelo, himself a discipleof Savonarola, said that art could go no further. We are thereforejustified in assuming that the engraver has not only representedfaithfully the outline of Savonarola's face, but has also indicated hispeculiar expression. A thick hood covers the whole head and shoulders. Beneath it can be traced the curve of a long and somewhat flat skull, rounded into extraordinary fullness at the base and side. From a deeplysunken eye-socket emerges, scarcely seen, but powerfully felt, the eyethat blazed with lightning. The nose is strong, prominent, and aquiline, with wide nostrils, capable of terrible dilation under the stress ofvehement emotion. The mouth has full, compressed, projecting lips. It islarge, as if made for a torrent of eloquence: it is supplied withmassive muscles, as if to move with energy and calculated force andutterance. The jawbone is hard and heavy; the cheekbone emergent:between the two the flesh is hollowed, not so much with the emaciationof monastic vigils as with the athletic exercise of wrestlings in thethroes of prophecy. The face, on the whole, is ugly, but not repellent;and, in spite of its great strength, it shows signs of femininesensibility. Like the faces of Cicero and Demosthenes, it seems the fitmachine for oratory. But the furnaces hidden away behind that skull, beneath that cowl, have made it haggard with a fire not to be found inthe serener features of the classic orators. Savonarola was a visionaryand a monk. The discipline of the cloister left its trace upon him. Thewings of dreams have winnowed and withered that cheek as they passedover it. The spirit of prayer quivers upon those eager lips. The colorof Savonarola's flesh was brown: his nerves were exquisitely sensitiveyet strong; like a network of wrought steel, elastic, easilyoverstrained, they recovered their tone and temper less by repose thanby the evolution of fresh electricity. With Savonarola fasts weresucceeded by trances, and trances by tempests of vehement improvization. From the midst of such profound debility that he could scarcely crawl upthe pulpit steps, he would pass suddenly into the plenitude of power, filling the Dome of Florence with denunciations, sustaining hisdiscourse by no mere trick of rhetoric that flows to waste upon the lipsof shallow preachers, but marshaling the phalanx of embattled argumentsand pointed illustrations, pouring his thought forth in columns ofcontinuous flame, mingling figures of sublimest imagery with reasoningsseverest accuracy, at one time melting his audience tears, at anotherfreezing them with terror, again quickening their souls with prayersand pleadings and blessings that had in them the sweetness of the veryspirit of Christ. His sermons began with scholastic exposition; as theyadvanced, the ecstasy of inspiration fell upon the preacher, till thesympathies of the whole people of Florence gathered round him, [2] metand attained, as it were, to single consciousness in him. He then nolonger restrained the impulse of his oratory, but became the mouthpieceof God, the interpreter to themselves of all that host. In a fierycrescendo, never flagging, never losing firmness of grasp or lucidity ofvision, he ascended the altar steps of prophecy, and, standing likeMoses on the mount between the thunders of God and the tabernacles ofthe plain, fulminated period after period of impassioned eloquence. Thewalls of the church re-echoed with sobs and wailings dominated by oneringing voice. The scribe to whom we owe the fragments of these sermons, at times breaks off with these words: 'Here I was so overcome withweeping that I could not go on. ' Pico della Mirandola tells us that themere sound of Savonarola's voice, startling the stillness of the Duomo, thronged through all its space with people, was like a clap of doom: acold shiver ran through the marrow of his bones, the hairs of his headstood on end, as he listened. Another witness reports: 'These sermonscaused such terror, alarm, sobbing, and tears that every one passedthrough the streets without speaking, more dead than alive. '

 [1] Engravings of the several portraits may be seen in Harford's _Life of Michael Angelo Buonarroti_ (Longmans, 1857 vol. I. ), and also in Villari. 

 [2] Nardi, in his _Istorie di Firenze_ (lib. Ii. Cap. 16), describes the crowd assembled in the Duomo to hear Savonarola preach: 'Per la moltitudine degli uditori non essendo quasi bastante la chiesa cattedrale di santa Maria del Fiore, ancora che molto grande e capace sia, fu necessario edificar dentro lungo i pareti di quella, dirempetto al pergamo, certi gradi di legname rilevati con ordine di sederi, a guisa di teatro, e così dalla parte di sopra all' entrata del coro e dalla parte di sotto in verso le porte della detta chiesa. '

Such was the preacher: and such was the effect of his oratory. The themeon which he loved to dwell was this. Repent! A judgment of God is athand. A sword is suspended over you. Italy is doomed for heriniquity--for the sins of the Church, whose adulteries have filled theworld--for the sins of the tyrants, who encourage crime and trample uponsouls--for the sins of you people, you fathers and mothers, you youngmen, you maidens, you children that lisp blasphemy! Nor did Savonaroladeal in generalities. He described in plain language every vice; he laidbare every abuse; so that a mirror was held up to the souls of hishearers, in which they saw their most secret faults appallinglyportrayed and ringed around with fire. He entered with particularityinto the details of the coming woes. One by one he enumerated thebloodshed, the ruin of cities, the trampling down of provinces, thepassage of armies, the desolating wars that were about to fall onItaly. [1] You may read pages of his sermons which seem like vividnarratives of what afterwards took place in the sack of Prato, in thestorming of Brescia, in the battle of the Ronco, in the cavern-massacreof Vicenza. No wonder that he stirred his audience to their center. Thehell within them was revealed. The coming doom above them was mademanifest. Ezekiel and Jeremiah were not more prophetic. John crying to ageneration of vipers, 'Repent ye, for the kingdom of heaven is at hand!'was not more weighty with the mission of authentic inspiration. 

 [1] Savonarola's whole view of the situation and of the perils of Italy was that of a prophet. He saw more clearly than other people what was inevitable. But his disciples and the vulgar believed implicitly in his prophetic gift in the narrower sense, that is, in his power to predict events, such as the deaths of Lorenzo and the King of Naples, the punishment of Charles VIII, in the loss of the dauphin, etc. Pico says: 'Savonarola could read the future as clearly as one sees the whole is greater than the part. ' And there is no doubt that, as time went on, Savonarola came to believe himself that he possessed this faculty. After his trial and execution a very uncomfortable sense of doubt remained upon the minds of those who had been witnesses of his life-drama. Upon this topic Guicciardini, _Stor. Fior. , Op. Ined. _ vol. Iii. P. 179; Nardi, _Stor. Fior. _ lib. Ii. Caps. 16 and 36, may be read with advantage. 

'I began'--Savonarola writes himself with reference to a course ofsermons delivered in 1491--'I began publicly to expound the Revelationin our Church of S. Mark. During the course of the year I continued todevelop to the Florentines these three propositions: That the Churchwould be renewed in our time; that before that renovation God wouldstrike all Italy with a fearful chastisement; that these things wouldhappen shortly. ' It is by right of the foresight of a new age containedin these three famous so-called conclusions that Savonarola deserves tobe named the Prophet of the Renaissance. He was no apostle of reform: itdid not occur to him to reconstruct the creed, to dispute thediscipline, or to criticise the authority of the Church. He was nofounder of a new order: unlike his predecessors, Dominic and Francis, henever attempted to organize a society of saints or preachers; unlike hissuccessors, Caraffa the Theatine and Loyola the Jesuit, he enrolled nomilitia for the defense of the faith, constructed no machinery foreducation. Starting with simple horror at the wickedness of the world, he had recourse to the old prophets. He steeped himself in Biblestudies. He caught the language of Malachi and Jeremiah. He becameconvinced that for the wickedness of Italy a judgment was imminent. Fromthat conclusion he rose upon the wings of faith to the belief that a newage would dawn. The originality of his intuition consisted in this, thatwhile Italy was asleep, and no man trembled for the future, he alonefelt that the stillness of the air was fraught with thunder, that itstranquillity was like that which precedes a tempest blown from the verynostrils of the God of Hosts. 

To the astonishment of his hearers, and perhaps also of himself, hisprophecies began to fulfill themselves. Within three years after hisfirst sermon in S. Mark's, Charles VIII. Had entered Italy, Lorenzo de'Medici was dead, and politicians no less than mystics felt that a newchapter had been opened in the book of the world's history. The Reformof the Church was also destined to follow. What Savonarola had foreseen, here too happened; but not in the way he would have wished, nor by themeans he would have used. It is one thing to be a prophet in the senseof discerning the catastrophe to which circumstances must inevitablylead, another thing to trace beforehand the path which will be taken bythe hurricanes that change the face of the world. Remaining in his soula monk, attached by education and by natural sympathy to the past ratherthan the future, he felt in spite of himself the spirit of the comingage. Had he lived but one century earlier, we should not have called himprophet. It was the Renaissance which set the seal of truth upon hisutterances. Yet in his vision of the world to be, he was like Balaamprophesying blindly of a star. 

Sixtus IV. Had died and been succeeded by Innocent VIII. Innocent hadgiven place to Alexander. The very nadir of the abyss had been reached. Then Savonarola saw a vision and heard a voice: _Ecce gladius Dominisuper terram cito et velociter. _ The sword turned earthward; the air wasdarkened with fiery sleet and arrows; thunders rolled; the world wasfilled with pestilences, wars, famines. At another time he dreamed andlooked toward Rome. From the Eternal City there rose a black cross, reaching to heaven, and on it was inscribed _Crux iræ Dei. _ Then too theskies were troubled; clouds rushed through the air discharging darts andfire and swords, and multitudes below were dying. These visions hepublished in sermons and in print. Pictures were made from them. Theyand the three conclusions went abroad through Italy. Again, Charles waspreparing for his expedition. Savonarola took the Ark of Noah for histheme. The deluge was at hand; he bade his hearers enter the ship ofrefuge before the terrible and mighty nation came: 'O Italy! O Rome! Igive you over to the hands of a people who will wipe you out from amongthe nations! I see them descending like lions. Pestilence comes marchinghand in hand with war. The deaths will be so many that the buriers shallgo through the streets crying out: Who hath dead, who hath dead? and onewill bring his father, and another his son. O Rome! I cry again to youto repent, Repent, Venice! Milan, repent!' 'The prophets a hundred yearsago proclaimed to you the flagellation of the Church. For five years Ihave been announcing it: and now again I cry to you. The Lord is full ofwrath. The angels on their knees cry to Him: Strike, strike! The goodsob and groan: We can no more. The orphans, the widows say: We aredevoured, we cannot go on living. All the Church triumphant hath criedto Christ: Thou diedst in vain. It is heaven which is in combat. Thesaints of Italy, the angels, are leagued with the barbarians. Those whocalled them in have put the saddles to the horses. Italy is inconfusion, saith the Lord; this time she shall be yours. And the Lordcometh above his saints, above the blessed ones who march inbattle-array, who are drawn up in squadrons. Whither are they bound? S. Peter is for Rome, crying: To Rome, to Rome! and S. Paul and S. Gregorymarch, crying: To Rome! And behind them go the sword, the pestilence, the famine. S. John cries: Up, up, to Florence! And the plague followshim. S. Anthony cries: Ho for Lombardy! S. Mark cries: Haste we to thecity that is throned upon the waters! And all the angels of heaven, sword in hand, and all the celestial consistory, march on unto thiswar. '

Then he speaks of his own fate: 'What shall be the end of our war, youask? If this be a general question, I shall answer Victory! If you askit of myself in particular, I answer, Death, or to be hewn in pieces. This is our faith, this is our guerdon, this is our reward! We ask forno more than this. But when you see me dead, be not then troubled. Allthose who have prophesied have suffered and been slain. To make my wordprevail, there is needed the blood of many. '

These are the prophecies with which Savonarola anticipated the coming ofa foreign conqueror. It is interesting to trace in his apostrophes thedouble feeling of the prophet. Desire for the advent of Charles as aMessiah, liberator, and purifier of the Church, contends with aninstinctive horror of the barbarian. Savonarola, like Dante, like allItalian patriots, except only Machiavelli, who too late had beenlessoned by bitter experience to put no trust in foreign princes, couldnot refrain from hoping even against hope that good might come frombeyond the Alps. Yet when the foreigners appeared, he trembled at theviolence they wrought upon the ancient liberties of Italy. Savonarola'schief shortcoming as a patriot consisted in this, that he strengthenedthe old folly of the Florentines in leaning upon strangers. [1] Had hetaught the Italians to work out their self-regeneration from within, instead of preparing them to accept an alien's yoke, he would have won afar more lasting meed of fame. As it was, together with the passion forliberty which became a religion with his followers, he strove to revivethe obsolete tactics of an earlier age, and bequeathed to Florence theweak policy of waiting upon France. This legacy bore bitter fruits inthe next century. If it was the memory of the Friar which nerved thecitizens of Florence to sustain the siege of 1528, the same memory boundthem to seek aid from inconsequent Francis, and to hope that at the lastmoment a cohort of seraphim would defend their walls. [2]

 [1] Segni, _Ist. Fior. _ lib. I. P. 23, records a saying of Savonarola's, _Gigli con gigli dover fiorire_, as one of the causes of the obstinate French partiality of the Florentines in 1529. 

 [2] See Varchi, Segni, and Nardi, who agree on these points. 

That Savonarola believed in his own prophecies there is no doubt. Theywere in fact, as I have already tried to show, a view of the politicaland moral situation of Italy, expressed with the force of profoundreligious conviction and based upon a theory of the divine government ofthe world. But now far he allowed himself to be guided by visions and bywords uttered to his soul in trance, is a somewhat different question. It is just at this point that a man possessed of acute insight andtrusting to the truth of his instincts may be tempted under strongdevotional excitement to pass the border land which separates healthyintuition from hallucination. If Savonarola's studies of the Hebrewprophets inclined him to believe in dreams and revelations, yet on theother hand the strong logic of his intellect, trained in scholasticdistinctions, taught him to mistrust the promptings of a power thatspoke to him when he was somewhat more or less than his prosaic self. How could he be sure that the spirit came from God? We know for certainthat he struggled against the impulse of divination and refused at timesto obey it. But it overcame him. Like the Cassandra of Æschylus, hepanted in the grasp of one mightier than himself. 'An inward fire, ' hecried, 'consumes my bones and forces me to speak out' And again: 'Ihave, O Lord, burnt my wings of contemplation, and I have launched intoa tempestuous sea, where I have found contrary winds in every quarter. Iwished to reach a harbor, but could not find the way thither; I wishedto lay me down, but could meet with no resting-place. I longed to besilent and to utter not a word. But the word of the Lord is in my heart;and if it does not come forth, it must consume the marrow of my bones. Thus, O Lord, if it be Thy will that I should navigate in deep waters, Thy will, be done. '

At another time he says: 'I remember well that upon one occasion, inthe year 1491, when I was preaching in the Duomo, having composed mysermon entirely upon these visions, I determined to abstain from allallusion to them, and in future to adhere to this resolution. God is mywitness that the whole of Saturday and the whole of the succeeding nightI lay awake, and could see no other course, no other doctrine. Atdaybreak, worn out and depressed by the many hours I had lain awake, while I was praying I heard a voice that said to me: "Fool that thouart, dost thou not see that it is God's will that thou shouldst keep tothe same path?" The consequence of which was that on the same day Ipreached a tremendous sermon. '

These passages leave upon the mind no doubt of Savonarola's sincerity. If he deceived others, he was himself the first to be deceived, and thattoo not before he had subjected himself to the most searchingexamination, seeking in vain to escape from the force which compelledhim to play the part of prophet. Terrible, indeed, must have been thewrestlings and questionings of this strong-fibered intellect, alone anddiffident, within the toils of ecstasy. 

Returning to the details of Savonarola's biography, we find him still inLombardy in 1486. After leaving Brescia he moved to Reggio, where hemade the friendship of the famous Giovanni Pico della Mirandola. Theycontinued intimate till the death of the latter in 1494; it was hisnephew, Giovanni Francesco Pico della Mirandola, who afterwards wrotethe Life of Savonarola. From Reggio the friar went to Genoa; and by thistime his fame as a prophet in the north of Lombardy was wellestablished. Now came the turning-point in his life. Fourteen hundredand ninety is the date which determined his public action as a man ofpower in Italy. Lorenzo de' Medici, strangely enough, was the instrumentof his recall in this year to Florence. Lorenzo, who, if he could haveforeseen the future of his own family in Florence, would rather havestifled this monk's voice in his cowl, took pains to send for him andbring him to S. Mark's, the convent upon which his father had lavishedso much wealth. He hoped to add luster to his capital by the preachingof the most eloquent friar in Italy. Clear-sighted as he was, he couldnot discern the flame of liberty which burned in Savonarola's soul. Savonarola, the democratic party leader, was a force in politics asincalculable beforehand as Ferrucci the hero. On August 1, 1490, themonk ascended the pulpit of S. Mark's, and delivered a tremendous sermonon a passage from the Apocalypse. On the eve of this commencement he isreported to have said: 'Tomorrow I shall begin to preach, and I shallpreach for eight years. ' The Florentines were greatly moved. Savonarolahad to remove from the Church of S. Mark to the Duomo; and thus beganthe spiritual dictatorship which he exercised thenceforth withoutintermission till his death. 

Lorenzo soon began to resent the influence of this uncompromising monk, who, not content with moral exhortations, confidently predicted thecoming of a foreign conqueror, the fall of the Magnificent, the peril ofthe Pope, and the ruin of the King of Naples. Yet it was no longer easyto suppress the preacher. Very early in his Florentine career Savonarolahad proved himself to be fully as great an administrator as an orator. The Convent of San Marco dominated by his personal authority, had madehim Prior in 1491, and he was already engaged in a thorough reform ofall the Dominican monasteries of Tuscany. It was usual for the Priorselect of S. Mark to pay a complimentary visit to the Medici, theirpatrons. Savonarola, thinking this a worldly and unseemly custom, omitted to observe it. Lorenzo, noticing the discourtesy, is reported tohave said, with a smile: 'See now! here is a stranger who has come into_my house_, and will not deign to visit me. ' He forgot that Savonarolalooked upon his convent as a house of God. At the same time the princemade overtures of goodwill to the Prior, frequently attended hisservices, and dropped gold into the alms-box of S. Mark's. Savonarolatook no notice of him, and handed his florins over to the poor of thecity. Then Lorenzo stirred up Fra Mariano da Genezzano, Savonarola's oldrival, against him; but the clever rhetorician was no longer a match forthe full-grown athlete of inspired eloquence. Da Genezzano was forced toleave Florence in angry discomfiture. With such unbending haughtinessdid Savonarola already dare to brave the powers that be. He hadrecognized the oppressor of liberty, the corrupter of morality, theopponent of true religion, in Lorenzo. He hated him as a tyrant. Hewould not give him the right hand of friendship or the salute ofcivility. In the same spirit he afterwards denounced Alexander, scornedhis excommunication, and plotted with the kings of Christendom for theconvening of a Council. Lorenzo, however, was a man of supreme insightinto character, and knew how to value his antagonist. Therefore, whenthe hour for dying came, and when, true child of the Renaissance that hewas, he felt the need of sacraments and absolution, he sent forSavonarola, saying that he was the only honest friar he knew. Themagnanimity of the Medici was only equaled by the firmness of the monk. Standing by the bedside of the dying man, who had confessed his sins, Savonarola said: 'Three things are required of you: to have a full andlively faith in God's mercy; to restore what you have unjustly gained;to give back liberty to Florence. ' Lorenzo assented readily to the twofirst requisitions. At the third he turned his face in silence to thewall. He must indeed have felt that to demand and promise this waseasier than to carry it into effect. Savonarola left him withoutabsolution. Lorenzo died. [1]

 [1] It is just to observe that great doubt has been thrown on the facts above related concerning Lorenzo's death. Poliziano, who was with Lorenzo during his last illness, does not mention them in his letter to Jacobus Antiquarius (xv. Kal. Jun. 1492). But Burlmacchi, Pico, Barsanti, Razzi, and others of the Frate's party, agree in the story. What Poliziano wrote was that Savonarola confessed Lorenzo and retired without volunteering the blessing. Razzi says the interview between Savonarola and Lorenzo took place without witnesses; Pico and Burlamacchi relate the event as they heard of it from the lips of Savonarola. We have therefore to judge between the testimony of Poliziano, who held no communication with the friar, and the veracity of several narrators, biassed indeed by hostility toward the Medici, but in direct intercourse with the only man who could tell the exact truth of what passed--the confessor, Savonarola, who had been alone with Lorenzo. Villari, after sifting the evidence, arrives at the conclusion that we may believe Burlamacchi. The Baron Reumont, in his recent _Life of Lorenzo_, vol. Ii. P. 590, gives some solid reasons for accepting this conclusion with caution, and Gino Capponi expresses a distinct disbelief in Burlamacchi's narration. 

The third point insisted upon by the friar, Restore liberty to Florence, not only broke the peace of the dying prince, but it also afterwards forever ruled the conduct of Savonarola. From this time his life is that ofa statesman no less than of a preacher. What Lorenzo refused, or wasindeed upon his deathbed quite unable to perform, the monk determined toachieve. Henceforth he became the champion of popular liberty in thepulpit. Feeling that in the people alone lay any hope of regenerationfor Italy, he made it the work of his whole life to give the strengthand sanction of religion to republican freedom. This work he sealed withmartyrdom. The spirit of the creed which he bequeathed to his partisansin Florence was political no less than pious. Whether Savonarola wasright to embark upon the perilous sea of statecraft cannot now bequestioned. What prophet of Israel from Samuel to Isaiah was not themaker and destroyer of kings and constitutions? When we call him bytheir title, we mean to say that he, like them, controlled by spiritualforce the fortunes of his people. Whether he sought it or not, thisrôle of politician was thrust upon him by the course of events: nor wasthe history of Italian cities deficient in precedents of similarfunctions assumed by preaching friars. [1]

 [1] It is enough to allude to Arnold of Brescia in Rome, to Fra Bussolari in Pavia, ami to John of Vicenza. Sec Appendix iv. 

To Lorenzo succeeded the incompetent Piero de' Medici, who surrenderedthe fortresses of Tuscany to the French army. While Savonarola wasprophesying a sword, a scourge, a deluge, Charles VIII. Rode at the headof his knighthood into Florence. The city was leaderless, unused toliberty. Who but the monk who had predicted the invasion should nowattempt to control it? Who but he whose voice alone had power toassemble and to sway the Florentines should now direct them? Hisadministrative faculty in a narrow sphere had been proved by his reformof the Dominican Convents. His divine mission was authenticated by thearrival of the French. The Lord had raised him up to act as well as toutter. He felt this: the people felt it. He was not the man to refuseresponsibility. 

During the years of 1493 and 1494, when Florence together with Italy wasin imminent peril, the voice of Savonarola never ceased to ring. Hissermons on the psalm 'Quam bonus' and on the Ark of Noah are among themost stupendous triumphs of his eloquence. From his pulpit beneath thesomber dome of Brunelleschi he kept pouring forth words of power toresuscitate the free spirit of his Florentines. In 1495, when theMedici had been expelled and the French army had gone upon its way toNaples, Savonarola was called upon to reconstitute the state. He badethe people abandon their old system of Parlamenti and Balia, andestablish a Grand Council after the Venetian type. [1] This institution, which seemed to the Florentines the best they had ever adopted, might beregarded by the historian as only one among their many experiments inconstitution-making, if Savonarola had not stamped it with his peculiargenius by announcing that Christ was to be considered the Head of theState. [2] This step at once gave a theocratic bias to the government, which determined all the acts of the monk's administration. Not contentwith political organization, too impatient to await the growth of goodmanners from sound institutions, he set about a moral and religiousreformation. Pomps, vanities, and vices were to be abandoned. Immediately the women and the young men threw aside their silks and fineattire. The Carnival songs ceased. Hymns and processions took the placeof obscene choruses and pagan triumphs. The laws were remodeled in thesame severe and abrupt spirit. Usury was abolished. Whatever Savonarolaordained, Florence executed. By the magic of his influence the city fora moment assumed a new aspect. It seemed as though the old austeritywhich Dante and Villani praised were about to return without thefactious hate and pride that ruined medæival Tuscany. In everything doneby Savonarola at this epoch there was a strange combination of politicalsagacity with monastic zeal. Neither Guicciardini nor Machiavelli, writing years afterwards, when Savonarola had fallen and Florence wasagain enslaved, could propose anything wiser than his Consiglio Grande. Yet the fierce revivalism advocated by the friar--the bonfire of Lorenzodi Credi's and Fra Bartolommeo's pictures, of MSS, of Boccaccio andclassic poets, and of all those fineries which a Venetian Jew is said tohave valued in one heap at 22, 000 florins--the recitation of suchBacchanalian songs as this--

 Never was there so sweet a gladness, Joy of so pure and strong a fashion, As with zeal and love and passion Thus to embrace Christ's holy madness! Cry with me, cry as I now cry, Madness, madness, holy madness!

--the procession of boys and girls through the streets, shaming theirelders into hypocritical piety, and breeding in their own hearts theintolerable priggishness of premature pietism--could not bring forthexcellent and solid fruits. The change was far too violent. The temperof the race was not prepared for it. It clashed too rudely withRenaissance culture. It outraged the sense of propriety in the moremoderate citizens, and roused to vindictive fury the worst passions ofthe self-indulgent and the worldly. A reaction was inevitable. [3]

 [1] This change was certainly wrought out by the influence of the friar and approved by him. Segni, lib. I. P. 15, speaks clearly on the point, and says that the friar for this service to the city 'debbe esser messo tra buoni datori di leggi, e debbe essere amato e onorato da' Fiorentini non altrimenti che Numa dai Romani e Solone dagli Ateniesi e Licurgo da' Lacedemoni. ' The evil of the old system was that the Parlamento, which consisted of the citizens assembled in the Piazza, was exposed to intimidation, and had no proper initiative, while the Balia, or select body, to whom they then intrusted plenipotentiary authority, was always the faction for the moment uppermost. For the mode of working the Parlamento and Balia, see Segni, p. 199; Nardi, lib. Vi. Cap. 4; Varchi, vol. Ii. P. 372. Savonarola inscribed this octave stanza on the wall of the Consiglio Grande:

 'Se questo popolar consiglio e certo Governo, popol, de la tua cittate Conservi, che da Dio t'e stato offerto, In pace starai sempre e libertate: Tien dunque l'occhio della mente aperto, Chè molte insidie ognor ti fien parate; E sappi che chi vuol far parlamento Vuol tórti dalle mani il reggimento. '

 [2] See Varchi, vol. I. P. 169. Niccolo Capponi, in 1527, returning to the policy of Savonarola, caused the Florentines to elect Christ for their king, and inscribed upon the door of the Palazzo Pubblico:--

 Y. H. S. CHRISTUS REX FLORENTINI POPULI S. P. DECRETO ELECTUS. 

 [3] The position of the Puritan leaders in England was somewhat similar to Savonarola's. But they had at the end of a long war, the majority of the nation with them. Besides, the English temperament was more adapted to Puritanism than the Italian, nor were the manifestations of piety prescribed by Parliament so extravagant. And yet even in England a reaction took place under the Restoration. 

Meanwhile the strong wine of prophecy intoxicated Savonarola. His fierytemperament, strained to the utmost by the dead weight of Florentineaffairs that pressed upon him, became more irritable day by day. Visionsucceeded vision; trance followed upon trance; agonies of dejection weresuddenly transformed into outbursts of magnificent and soul-sustainingenthusiasm. It was no wonder if, passing as he had done from thediscipline of the cloister to the dictatorship of a republic, he shouldmake extravagant mistakes. The tension of this abnormal situation in thecity grew to be excessive, and cool thinkers predicted that Savonarola'sposition would become untenable. Parties began to form and gather to ahead. The followers of the monk, by far the largest section of thepeople, received the name of Piagnoni or Frateschi. The friends of theMedici, few at first and cautious, were called Bigi. The opponents ofSavonarola and of the Medici, who hated his theocracy, but desired tosee an oligarchy and not a tyranny in Florence, were known as theArrabbiati. 

The discontent which germinated in Florence displayed itself in Rome. Alexander found it intolerable to be assailed as Antichrist by a monkwho had made himself master of the chief Italian republic. At first heused his arts of blandishment and honeyed words in order to lureSavonarola to Rome. The friar refused to quit Florence. Then Alexandersuspended him from preaching. Savonarola obeyed, but wrote at the sametime to Charles VIII. Denouncing his indolence and calling upon him toreform the Church. At the request of the Florentine Republic, thoughstill suffering from the Pope's interdict, he then resumed hispreaching. Alexander sought next to corrupt the man he could notintimidate. To the suggestion that a Cardinal's hat might be offeredhim, Savonarola replied that he preferred the red crown of martyrdom. Ascending the pulpit of the Duomo in 1496, he preached the most fiery ofall his Lenten courses. Of this series of orations Milman writes: 'Histriumphal career began with the Advent of 1494 on Haggai and the Psalms. But it is in the Carême of 1496 on Amos and Zechariah that the preachergirds himself to his full strength, when he had attained his fullauthority, and could not but be conscious that there was a deep anddangerous rebellion brooding in the hearts of the hostile factions atFlorence, and when already ominous rumors began to be heard from Rome. He that would know the power, the daring, the oratory of Savonarola, must study this volume. '[1]

 [1] These sermons were printed from the notes taken by Lorenzo Violi in one volume at Venice, 1534. 

Very terrific indeed are the denunciations contained in thesediscourses--denunciations fulminated without disguise against the Popeand priests of Rome, against the Medici, against the Florentinesthemselves, in whom the traces of rebellion were beginning to appear. Mingled with these vehement invectives, couched in Savonarola's mostimpassioned style and heightened by his most impressive imagery, arepolitical harangues and polemical arguments against the Pope. Theposition assumed by the friar in his war with Rome was not a strong one, and the reasoning by which he supported it was marked by curiousself-deception mingled with apparent efforts to deceive his audience. Hehad not the audacious originality of Luther. He never went to the lengthof braving Alexander by burning his bulls and by denying the authorityof popes in general. Not daring to break all connection with the HolySee, he was driven to quibble about the distinction between the officeand the man, assuming a hazardous attitude of obedience to the Churchwhose head and chief he daily outraged. At the same time he took nopains to enlist the sympathies of the Italian princes, many of whommight presumably have been hostile to the Pope, on his side of thequarrel. All the tyrants came in for a share of his propheticindignation. Lodovico Sforza, the lord of Mirandola, and Piero de'Medici felt themselves specially aggrieved, and kept urging Alexander toextinguish this source of scandal to established governments. Against sogreat and powerful a host one man could not stand alone. Savonarola'sposition became daily more dangerous in Florence. The merchants, excommunicated by the Pope and thus exposed to pillage in foreignmarkets, grumbled at the friar who spoiled their trade. The ban ofinterdiction lay upon the city, where the sacraments could no longer beadministered or the dead be buried with the rites of Christians. Meanwhile a band of high-spirited and profligate young men, calledCompagnacci, used every occasion to insult and interrupt him. At last inMarch 1498 his staunch friends, the Signory, or supreme executive ofFlorence, suspended him from preaching in the Duomo. Even the populacewere weary of the protracted quarrel with the Holy See: nor could anybut his own fanatical adherents anticipate the wars which threatened thestate, with equanimity. 

Savonarola himself felt that the supreme hour was come. One moreresource was left; to that he would now betake himself: he couldafterwards but die. This last step was the convening of a generalcouncil. [1] Accordingly he addressed letters to all the Europeanpotentates. One of these, inscribed to Charles VIII. , was dispatched, intercepted, and conveyed to Alexander. He wrote also to the Pope andwarned him of his purpose. The termination of that epistle isnoteworthy: 'I can thus have no longer any hope in your Holiness, butmust turn to Christ alone, who chooses the weak of this world toconfound the strong lions among the perverse generations. He will assistme to prove and sustain, in the face of the world, the holiness of thework for the sake of which I so greatly suffer: and He will inflict ajust punishment on those who persecute me and would impede its progress. As for myself, I seek no earthly glory, but long eagerly for death. Mayyour Holiness no longer delay but look to your salvation. '

 [1] This scheme was by no means utterly unpractical. The Borgia had only just escaped deposition in 1495 by the gift of a Cardinal's hat to the Bishop of S. Malo. He was hated no less than feared through the length and breadth of Italy. But Savonarola had allowed the favorable moment to pass by. 

But while girding on his armor for this singlehanded combat with thePrimate of Christendom and the Princes of Italy, the martyrdom to whichSavonarola now looked forward fell upon him. Growing yearly moreconfident in his visions and more willing to admit his supernaturalpowers, he had imperceptibly prepared the pit which finally ingulfedhim. Often had he professed his readiness to prove his vocation by fire. Now came the moment when this defiance to an ordeal was answered. [1] AFranciscan of Apulia offered to meet him in the flames and see whetherhe were of God or not. Fra Domenico, Savonarola's devoted friend, tookup the gauntlet and proposed himself as champion. The furnace wasprepared: both monks stood ready to enter it: all Florence was assembledin the Piazza to witness what should happen. Various obstacles, however, arose; and after waiting a whole day for the friar's triumph, the peoplehad to retire to their homes under a pelting shower of rain, unsatisfied, and with a dreary sense that after all their prophet wasbut a mere man. The Compagnacci got the upper hand. S. Mark's conventwas besieged. Savonarola was led to prison, never to issue till the dayof his execution by the rope and faggot. We may draw a veil over thoselast weeks. Little indeed is known about them, except that in his cellthe Friar composed his meditations on the the 31st and 51st Psalms, thelatter of which was published in Germany with a preface by Luther in1573. Of the rest we hear only of prolonged torture before stupid andmalignant judges, of falsified evidence and of contradictoryconfessions. What he really said and chose to stand by, what heretracted, what he shrieked out in the delirium of the rack, and whatwas falsely imputed to him, no one now can settle. [2] Though the spiritwas strong, the flesh was weak; he had the will but not the nerve to bea martyr. At ten o'clock on the 23d of May 1498 he was led forthtogether with brother Salvestro, the confidant of his visions, andbrother Domenico, his champion in the affair of the ordeal, to a stageprepared in the Piazza. [3] These two men were hanged first. Savonarolawas left till the last. As the hangman tied the rope round his neck, avoice from the crowd shouted: 'Prophet, now is the time to perform amiracle!' The Bishop of Vasona, who conducted the execution, strippedhis friar's frock from him, and said, 'I separate thee from the Churchmilitant and triumphant. ' Savonarola, firm and combative even at thepoint of death, replied, 'Militant yes: triumphant, no: _that_ is notyours. ' The last words he uttered were, 'The Lord has suffered as muchfor me. ' Then the noose was tightened round his neck. The fire beneathwas lighted. The flames did not reach his body while life was in it; butthose who gazed intently thought they saw the right hand give the signof benediction. A little child afterwards saw his heart still wholeamong the ashes cast into the Arno; and almost to this day flowers havebeen placed every morning of the 23d of May upon the slab of the Piazzawhere his body fell. 

 [1] There seems to be no doubt that this Ordeal by Fire was finally got up by the Compagnacci with the sanction of the Signory, who were anxious to relieve themselves by any means of Savonarola. The Franciscan chosen to enter the flames together with Fra Domenico was a certain Giuliano Rondinelli. Nardi calls him Andrea Rondinelli. 

 [2] Nardi, lib. Ii. Vol. I. P. 128, treats the whole matter of Savonarola's confessions under torture with good sense. He says: 'Avendo domandato il frate quello che diceva e affermava delle sue esamine fatte infino a quel di, rispose, che ciò ch' egli aveva ne' tempi passati detto e predetto era la pura verita, e che quello di che s'era ridetto e aveva ritratto, era tutto falso e era seguito per il dolor grande e per la paura che egli aveva de' tormenti, e che di nuovo si ridirebbe e ritratterebbe tante volte, quante ci fusse di nuovo tormentato, perciò che si conosceva molto debole e inconstante nel sopportare i supplicii. ' Burchard, in his Diary, reports the childish, foul, malignant gossip current in Rome. This may be read in the 'Preuves et Observations' appended to the _Memoirs_ of De Comines, vol. V. P. 512. See the Marchese Gino Capponi's _Storia della Firenze_ (tom. Ii. Pp. 248-51) for a critical analysis of the depositions falsely ascribed to Savonarola. 

 [3] There is a curious old picture in the Pinacoteca of Perugia which represents the burning of the three friars. The whole Piazza della Signoria is shown, with the houses of the fifteenth century, and without the statues which afterwards adorned it. The spectator fronts the Palazzo, and has to his extreme right the Loggia de' Lanzi. The center of the square is occupied by a great circular pile of billets and fagots, to which a wooden bridge of scaffolding leads from the left angle of the Polazzo. From the middle of the pile rises a pole, to which the bodies of the friars in their white clothes are suspended. Sta Maria del Fiore, the Badia tower, and the distant hills above Fiesole complete a scene which is no doubt accurate in detail. 

Thus died Savonarola: and immediately he became a saint. His sermons andother works were universally distributed. Medals in his honor werestruck. Raphael painted him among the Doctors of the Church in theCamera della Segnatura of the Vatican. The Church, with strangeinconsistency, proposed to canonize the man whom she had burned as acontumacious heretic and a corrupter of the people. This canonizationnever took place: but many Dominican Churches used a special officewith his name and in his honor. [1] A legend similar to that of S. Francis in its wealth of mythical details embalmed the memory of eventhe smallest details of his life. But, above all, he lived in the heartsof the Florentines. For many years to come his name was the watchword oftheir freedom; his prophecies sustained their spirit during the siege of1528;[2] and it was only by returning to his policy that Niccolo Capponiand Francesco Carducci ruled the people through those troublous times. The political action of Savonarola forms but a short episode in thehistory of Florence. His moral revival belongs to the history of popularenthusiasm. His philosophical and theological writings are chieflyinteresting to the student of post-medæival scholasticism. His attitudeas a monastic leader of the populace, attempting to play the old gamewhereby the factious warfare of a previous age had been suspended byappeals to piety, and politicians had looked for aid outside the nation, was anachronistic. But his prophecy, his insight into the coming of anew era for the Church and for Italy, is a main fact in the psychologyof the Renaissance. 

 [1] _Officio del Savonarola_, with preface by Cesare Guasti. Firenze, 1863. 

 [2] Guicciardini, in his _Ricordt_, No. I. , refers the incredible obstinacy of the Florentines at this period in hoping against all hope and reason to Savonarola: 'questa ostinazione ha causata in gran parte a fede di non potere perire, secondo le predicazioni di Fra Jeronirno da Ferrara. '

CHAPTER X. 

CHARLES VIII. 

The Italian States confront the Great Nations of Europe--Policy of LouisXI. Of France--Character of Charles VIII. --Preparations for the Invasionof Italy--Position of Lodovico Sforza--Diplomatic Difficulties in Italyafter the Death of Lorenzo de' Medici--Weakness of the Republics--IIMoro--The year 1494--Alfonso of Naples--Inefficiency of the Allies tocope with France--Charles at Lyons is stirred up to the Invasion ofItaly by Giuliano della Rovere--Charles at Asti and Pavia--Murder ofGian Galeazzo Sforza--Mistrust in the French Army--Rapallo andFivizzano--The Entrance into Tuscany--Part played by Piero de'Medici--Charles at Pisa--His Entrance into Florence--Piero Capponi--TheMarch on Rome--Entry into Rome--Panic of Alexander VI. --The March onNaples--The Spanish Dynasty: Alfonso and Ferdinand--Alfonso II. Escapesto Sicily--Ferdinand II. Takes Refuge in Ischia--Charles at Naples--TheLeague against the French--De Comines at Venice--Charles makes hisRetreat by Rome, Siena, Pisa, and Pontremoli--The Battle ofFornovo--Charles reaches Asti and returns to France--Italy becomes thePrize to be fought for by France, Spain, and Germany--Importance of theExpedition of Charles VIII. 

One of the chief features of the Renaissance was the appearance for thefirst time on the stage of history of full-formed and colossal nations. France, Spain, Austria, and England are now to measure their strength. Venice, Florence, Milan, Naples, even Rome, are destined in the periodthat is opening for Europe to play but secondary parts. Italy, incapableof coping with these great powers, will become the mere arena of theircontests, the object of their spoliations. Yet the Italians themselveswere far from being conscious of this change. Accustomed through threecenturies to a system of diplomacy and intrigue among their own smallstates, they still thought more of the balance of power within thepeninsula than of the means to be adopted for repelling foreign force. Their petty jealousies kept them disunited at an epoch when the bestchance of national freedom lay in a federation. Firmly linked togetherin one league, or subject to a single prince, the Italians might notonly have met their foes on equal ground, but even have taken a foremostplace among the modern nations. [1] Instead of that, their princes werefoolish enough to think that they could set France, Germany, or Spain inmotion for the attainment of selfish objects within the narrow sphere ofItalian politics, forgetting the disproportion between these hugemonarchies and a single city like Florence, a mere province like theMilanese. It was just possible for Lorenzo de' Medici to secure thetranquillity of Italy by combining the Houses of Sforza and of Aragonwith the Papal See in the chains of the same interested policy with theCommonwealth of Florence. It was ridiculous of Lodovico Sforza to fancythat he could bring the French into the game of peninsular intriguewithout irrevocably ruining its artificial equilibrium. The firstsign of the alteration about to take place in European history was theinvasion of Italy by Charles VIII. This holiday excursion of ahairbrained youth was as transient as a border-foray on a large scale. The so-called conquest was only less sudden than the subsequent loss ofItaly by the French. Yet the tornado which swept the peninsula fromnorth to south, and returned upon its path from south to north withinthe space of a few months, left ineffaceable traces on the country whichit traversed, and changed the whole complexion of the politics ofEurope. 

 [1] Read, however, Sismondi's able argument against the view that Italy, united as a single nation under a sovereign, would have been better off, vol. Vii. P. 298 et seq. He is of opinion that her only chance lay in a Confederation. See chapter ii. Above, for a discussion of this chance. 

The invasion of Italy had been long prepared in the counsels of LouisXI. After spending his lifetime in the consolidation of the Frenchmonarchy, he constructed an inheritance of further empire for hissuccessors by dictating to the old King Réné of Anjou (1474) and to theCount of Maine (1481) the two wills by which the pretensions of theHouse of Anjou to the Crown of Naples were transmitted to the royalfamily of France. [1] On the death of Louis, Charles VIII. Became King in1483. He was then aged only thirteen, and was still governed by hiselder sister, Anne de Beaujeu. [2] It was not until 1492 that heactually took the reins of the kingdom into his own hands. This year, wemay remark, is one of the most memorable dates in history. In 1492Columbus discovered America: in 1492 Roderigo Borgia was made Pope: in1492 Spain became a nation by the conquest of Granada. Each of theseevents was no less fruitful of consequences to Italy than was theaccession of Charles VIII. The discovery of America, followed in anothersix years by Vasco de' Gama's exploration of the Indian seas, divertedthe commerce of the world into new channels; Alexander VI. Made theReformation and the Northern Schism certainties; the consolidation ofSpain prepared a way for the autocracy of Charles V. Thus thecommercial, the spiritual, and the political scepter fell in this oneyear from the grasp of the Italians. 

 [1] Sismondi, vol. Vi. P. 285. The Appendix of Pièces Justificatives to Philip de Comines' _Memoirs_ contains the will of Réné King of Sicily, Count of Provence, dated July 22, 1474, by which he constitutes his nephew, Charles of Anjou, Duke of Calabria, Count of Maine, his heir-in-chief; as well as the will of Charles of Anjou, King of Sicily, Count of Provence, dated December 10, 1481, by which he makes Louis XI. His heir, naming Charles the Dauphin next in succession. 

 [2] Her husband was a cadet of the House of Bourbon. 

Both Philip de Comines and Guicciardini have described the appearanceand the character of the prince who was destined to play a part soprominent, so pregnant of results, and yet so trivial in the affairs ofEurope. Providence, it would seem, deigns frequently to use for the mostmomentous purposes some pantaloon or puppet, environing with specialprotection and with the prayers and aspirations of whole peoples a meremanikin. Such a puppet was Charles. 'From infancy he had been weak inconstitution and subject to illness. His stature was short, and his facevery ugly, if you except the dignity and vigor of his glance. His limbswere so disproportioned that he had less the appearance of a man thanof a monster. Not only was he ignorant of liberal arts, but he hardlyknew his letters. Though eager to rule, he was in truth made foranything but that; for while surrounded by dependents, he exercised noauthority over them and preserved no kind of majesty. Hating businessand fatigue, he displayed in such matters as he took in hand a want ofprudence and of judgment. His desire for glory sprang rather fromimpulse than from reason. His liberality was inconsiderate, immoderate, promiscuous. When he displayed inflexibility of purpose, it was moreoften an ill-founded obstinacy than firmness, and that which many peoplecalled his goodness of nature rather deserved the name of coldness andfeebleness of spirit. ' This is Guicciardini's portrait. De Comines ismore brief: 'The king was young, a fledgling from the nest; providedneither with money nor with good sense; weak, willful, and surrounded byfoolish counselors. '

These foolish counselors, or, as Guicciardini calls them, 'men of lowestate, body-servants for the most part of the king, ' were headed byStephen de Vesc, who had been raised from the post of the king's valetde chambre to be the Seneschal de Beaucaire, and by William Briçonnet, formerly a merchant, now Bishop of S. Malo. These men had everything togain by an undertaking which would flatter the vanity of their master, and draw him into still closer relations with themselves. Consequently, when the Count of Belgioioso arrived at the French Court from Milan, urging the king to press his claims on Naples, and promising him a freeentrance into Italy through the province of Lombardy and the port ofGenoa, he found ready listeners. Anne de Beaujeu in vain opposed thescheme. The splendor and novelty of the proposal to conquer such a realmas Italy inflamed the imagination of Charles, the cupidity of hiscourtiers, the ambition of de Vesc and Briçonnet. In order to assure hissituation at home, Charles concluded treaties with the neighboring greatpowers. He bought peace with Henry VII. Of England by the payment oflarge sums of money. The Emperor Maximilian, whose resentment he hadaroused by sending back his daughter Margaret after breaking his promiseto marry her, and by taking to wife Anne of Brittany, who was alreadyengaged to the Austrian, had to be appeased by the cession of provinces. Ferdinand of Spain received as the price of his neutrality the strongplaces of the Pyrenees which formed the key to France upon that side. Having thus secured tranquillity at home by ruinous concessions, Charleswas free to turn his attention to Italy. He began by concentratingstores and ships on the southern ports of Marseilles and Genoa; then hemoved downward with his army, to Lyons, in 1494. 

At this point we are called to consider the affairs of Italy, which ledthe Sforza to invite his dangerous ally. Lorenzo de' Medici during hislifetime had maintained a balance of power between the several statesby his treaties with the Courts of Milan, Naples, and Ferrara. When hedied, Piero at once showed signs of departure from his father's policy. The son and husband of Orsini, [1] he embraced the feudal pride andtraditional partialities of the great Roman house who had always beendevoted to the cause of Naples. The suspicions of Lodovico Sforza werenot unreasonably aroused by noticing that the tyrant of Florenceinclined to the alliance of King Ferdinand rather than to his ownfriendship. At this same time Alfonso, the Duke of Calabria, heir to thethrone of Naples, was pressing the rights of his son-in-law, GianGaleazzo Sforza, on the attention of Italy, complaining loudly that hisuncle Lodovico ought no longer to withhold from him the reins ofgovernment. [2] Gian Galcazzo was in fact the legitimate successor ofGaleazzo Maria Sforza, who had been murdered in Santo Stefano in 1476. After this assassination Madonna Bona of Savoy and Cecco Simonetta, whohad administered the Duchy as grand vizier during three reigns extendingover a period of half a century, governed Milan as regents for the youngDuke. But Lodovico, feeling himself powerful enough to assume thetyranny, beheaded Simonetta at Pavia in 1480, and caused Madonna Bona, the Duke's mother, on the pretext of her immorality, to quit theregency. Thus he took the affairs of Milan into his own hands, confinedhis nephew in an honorable prison, and acted in a way to make it clearthat he intended thenceforth to be Duke in fact. [3] It was the badconscience inseparable from this usurpation which made him mistrust theprinces of the house of Aragon, whose rights in Isabella, wife of theyoung Duke, were set at nought by him. The same uneasy sense of wronginclined him to look with dread upon the friendship of the Medici forthe ruling family of Naples. 

 [1] His mother Clarice and his wife Alfonsina were both of them Orsini. Guicciardini, in his 'Dialogo del Reggimento di Firenze' (_Op. Ined. _ vol. Ii. P. 46), says of him: 'sendo nato di madre forestiera, era imbastardito in lui il sangue Fiorentino, e degenerato in costumi esterni, e troppo insolenti e altieri al nostro vivere. ' Piero, nevertheless, refused to accept estates from King Alfonso which would have made him a Baron and feudatory of Naples. See _Arch. Stor. _ vol. I. P. 347. 

 [2] The young Duke was aged twenty-four in 1493. 

 [3] Lodovico had taken measures for cloaking his usurpation with the show of legitimate right. He betrothed his niece Bianca Maria, in 1494, to the Emperor Maximilian, with a dower of 400, 000 ducats, receiving in return an investiture of the Duchy, which, however, he kept secret. 

While affairs were in this state, and as yet no open disturbance inLorenzo's balance of power had taken place, Alexander VI. Was elected tothe Papacy. It was usual for the princes and cities of Italy tocompliment the Pope with embassies on his assumption of the tiara; andLodovico suggested that the representatives of Milan, Florence, Ferrara, and Naples should enter Rome together in a body. The foolish vanity ofPiero, who wanted to display the splendor of his own equipage withoutrivals, induced him to refuse this proposal, and led to a similarrefusal on the part of Ferdinand. This trivial circumstance confirmedthe suspicions of Lodovico, who, naturally subtle and intriguing, thought that he discerned a deep political design in what was reallylittle more than the personal conceit of a broad-shoulderedsimpleton. [1] He already foresaw that the old system of alliancesestablished by Lorenzo must be abandoned. Another slight incidentcontributed to throw the affairs of Italy into confusion by causing arupture between Rome and Naples. Lorenzo, by the marriage of hisdaughter to Franceschetto Cibo, had contrived to engage Innocent VIII. In the scheme of policy which he framed for Florence, Naples, Milan, andFerrara. But on the accession of Alexander, Franceschetto Cibodetermined to get rid of Anguillara, Cervetri, and other fiefs, which hehad taken with his father's connivance from the Church. He found apurchaser in Virginio Orsini. Alexander complained that the sale was aninfringement of his rights. Ferdinand supported the title of the Orsinito his new acquisitions. This alienated the Pope from the King ofNaples, and made him willing to join with Milan and Venice in a newleague formed in 1493. 

 [1] Piero de' Medici was what the French call a _bel homme_, and little more. He was tall, muscular, and well-made, the best player at _pallone_ in Italy, a good horseman, fluent and agreeable in conversation, and excessively vain of these advantages. 

Thus the old equilibrium was destroyed, and fresh combinations betweenthe disunited powers of Italy took place. Lodovico, however, dared nottrust his new friends. Venice had too long hankered after Milan to bedepended upon for real support; and Alexander was known to be in treatyfor a matrimonial alliance between his son Geoffrey and Donna Sancia ofAragon. Lodovico was therefore alone, without a firm ally in Italy, andwith a manifestly fraudulent title to maintain. At this juncture heturned his eyes towards France; while his father-in-law, the Duke ofFerrara, who secretly hated him, and who selfishly hoped to secure hisown advantage in the general confusion which he anticipated, urged himto this fatal course. Alexander at the same time, wishing to frightenthe princes of Naples into a conclusion of the projected marriage, followed the lead of Lodovico, and showed himself at this moment notaverse to a French invasion. 

It was in this way that the private cupidities and spites of princesbrought woe on Italy: Lodovico's determination to secure himself in theusurped Duchy of Milan, Ercole d' Este's concealed hatred, andAlexander's unholy eagerness to aggrandize his bastards, were the vileand trivial causes of an event which, however inevitable, ought to havebeen as long as possible deferred by all true patriots in Italy. But inItaly there was no zeal for freedom left, no honor among princes, novirtue in the Church. Italy, which in the thirteenth century numbered1, 800, 000 citizens--that is, members of free cities, exercising thefranchise in the government of their own states--could show in thefifteenth only about 18, 000 such burghers:[1] and these in Venice weresubject to the tyranny of the Council of Ten, in Florence had beenenervated by the Medici, in Siena were reduced by party feuds and vulgardespotism to political imbecility. Amid all the splendors of revivedliterature and art, of gorgeous courts and refined societies, thisindeed was the right moment for the Dominican visionary to publish hisprophecies, and for the hunchback puppet of destiny to fulfill them. Guicciardini deplores, not without reason, the bitter sarcasm of fatewhich imposed upon his country the insult of such a conqueror asCharles. He might with equal justice have pointed out in Lodovico Sforzathe actor of a tragi-comic part upon the stage of Italy. Lodovico, called II Moro, not, as the great historian asserts, because he was ofdark complexion, but because he had adopted the mulberry-tree for hisdevice, [2] was in himself an epitome of all the qualities which for thelast two centuries had contributed to the degradation of Italy in thepersons of the despots. Gifted originally with good abilities, he hadso accustomed himself to petty intrigues that he was now incapable oftaking a straightforward step in any direction. While he boasted himselfthe Son of Fortune and listened with complacency to a foolish rhyme thatran: _God only and the Moor foreknow the future safe and sure_, he neveracted without blundering, and lived to end his days in the intolerabletedium of imprisonment at Loches. He was a thoughtful and painstakingruler; yet he so far failed to win the affection of his subjects thatthey tossed up their caps for joy at the first chance of getting rid ofhim. He disliked bloodshed; but the judicial murder of Simonetta, andthe arts by which he forced his nephew into an early grave, have left anineffaceable stain upon his memory. His court was adorned by thepresence of Lionardo da Vinci; but at the same time it was so corruptthat, as Corio tells us, [3] fathers sold their daughters, brothers theirsisters, and husbands their wives there. In a word Lodovico, in spite ofhis boasted prudence, wrought the ruin of Italy and himself by histortuous policy, and contributed by his private crimes and dissolutestyle of living no little to the general depravity of his country. [4]

 [1] This is Sismondi's calculation (vol. Vii. P. 305). It must be taken as a rough one. Still students who have weighed the facts presented in Ferrari's _Rivoluzioni d' Italia_ will not think the estimate exaggerated. In the municipal and civil wars, free burghs were extinguished by the score. 

 [2] See Varchi, vol. I. P. 49. Also the _Elogia_ of Paulus Jovius, who remarks that the complexion of Lodovico was fair. His surname, however, provoked puns. Me had, for example, a picture painted, in which Italy, dressed like a queen, is having her robe brushed by a Moorish page. A motto ran beneath, _Per Italia nettar d' ogni bruttura_. He adopted the mulberry because Pliny called it the most prudent of all trees, inasmuch as it waits till winter is well over to put forth its leaves, and Lodovico piqued himself on his sagacity in choosing the right moment for action. 

 [3] _L' Historia di Milano_, Vinegia, 1554, p. 448: 'A quella (scola di Venere) per ogni canto vi si convenivan bellissimi giovani. I padri vi concedevano le figliuole, i mariti le mogliere, i fratelli le sorelle; e per sifatto modo senz' alcun riguardo molti concorreano all' amoroso ballo, che cosa stupendissima era riputata per qualunque l' intendeva. '

 [4] Guicciardini, _Storia d' Italia_, lib. Iii. P. 35, sums up the character of Lodovico with masterly completeness. 

Amid this general perturbation of the old political order the year1494, marked in its first month by the death of King Ferdinand, began--'a year, ' to quote from Guicciardini, 'the most unfortunate forItaly, the very first in truth of our disastrous years, since it openedthe door to numberless and horrible calamities, in which it may be saidthat a great portion of the world has subsequently shared. ' Theexpectation and uneasiness of the whole nation were proportioned to themagnitude of the coming change. On every side the invasion of theFrench was regarded with that sort of fascination which a very new andexciting event is wont to inspire. In one mood the Italians wereinclined to hail Charles as a general pacificator and restorer of oldliberties. [1] Savonarola had preached of him as the _flagellum Dei_, the minister appointed to regenerate the Church and purify the font ofspiritual life in the peninsula. In another frame of mind theyshuddered to think what the advent of the barbarians--so the Frenchwere called--might bring upon them. It was universally agreed thatLodovico by his invitation had done no more than bring down, as itwere, by a breath the avalanche which had been long impending. 'Notonly the preparations made by land and sea, but also the consent of theheavens and of men, announced the woes in store for Italy. Those whopretend either by art or divine inspiration to the knowledge of thefuture, proclaimed unanimously that greater and more frequent changes, occurrences more strange and awful than had for many centuries beenseen in any part of the world, were at hand. ' After enumerating diverssigns and portents, such as the passing day after day in the regionround Arezzo of innumerable armed men mounted on gigantic horses with ahideous din of drums and trumpets, the great historian resumes: 'Thesethings filled the people with incredible fear; for, long before, theyhad been terrified by the reputation of the power of the French and oftheir fierceness, seeing that histories are full of their deeds--howthey had already overrun the whole of Italy, sacked the city of Romewith fire and sword, subdued many provinces of Asia, and at one time oranother smitten with their arms all quarters of the world. '

 [1] This was the strictly popular as opposed to the aristocratic feeling. The common folk, eager for novelty and smarting under the bad rule of monsters like the Aragonese princes, expected in Charles VIII. A Messiah, and cried 'Benedictus qui venit in nomine Domini. ' See passages quoted in a note below. 

Among all the potentates of Italy, Alfonso of Naples had the most todread; for against him the invasion was specially directed. No time wasto be lost. He assembled his allies at Vicovaro near Tivoli in July andexplained to them his theory of resistance. The allies were Florence, Rome, Bologna, and all the minor powers of Romagna. [1] For once thesouthern and the middle states of Italy were united against a commonfoe. After Alfonso, Alexander felt himself in greatest peril, for hedreaded the assembly of a Council which might depose him from the thronehe had bought by simony. So strong was his terror that he had alreadysent ambassadors to the Sultan imploring him for aid against the MostChristian King, and had entreated Ferdinand the Catholic, instead ofundertaking a crusade against the Turk, to employ his arms in oppositionto the French. But Bajazet was too far off to be of use; and Ferdinandwas prudent. It remained for the allies to repel the invader by theirunassisted force. This might have been done if Alfonso's plan had beenadhered to. He designed sending a fleet, under his brother Don Federigo, to Genoa, and holding with his own troops the passes of the Apennines tothe North, while Piero de' Medici undertook to guard the entrances toTuscany on the side of Lunigiana. The Duke of Calabria meanwhile was toraise Gian Galeazzo's standard in Lombardy. But that absolute agreementwhich is necessary in the execution of a scheme so bold andcomprehensive was impossible in Italy. The Pope insisted that attentionshould first be paid to the Colonnesi--Prospero and Fabrizio beingsecret friends of France, and their castles offering a desirable booty. Alfonso, therefore, determined to occupy the confines of the Romanterritory on the side of the Abruzzi, while he sent his son, with thegenerals Giovan Jacopo da Trivulzi and the Count of Pitigliano, intoLombardy. They never advanced beyond Cesena, where the troops of theSforza, in conjunction with the French, held them at bay. The fleetunder Don Federigo sailed too late to effect the desired rising inGenoa. The French, forewarned, had thrown 2, 000 Swiss under the Baily ofDijon and the Duke of Orleans into the city, and the Neapolitan admiralfell back upon Leghorn. The forces of the league were further enfeebledand divided by the necessity of leaving Virginio Orsini to check theColonnesi in the neighborhood of Rome. How utterly Piero de' Medici byhis folly and defection ruined what remained of the plan will be seen inthe sequel. This sluggishness in action and dismemberment offorces--this total inability to strike a sudden blow--sealed beforehandthe success of Charles. Alfonso, a tyrant afraid of his own subjects, Alexander, a Pope who had bought the tiara to the disgust ofChristendom, Piero, conscious that his policy was disapproved by theFlorentines, together with a parcel of egotistical petty despots, werenot the men to save a nation. Italy was conquered, not by the Frenchking, but by the vices of her own leaders. The whole history ofCharles's expedition is one narrative of headlong rashness triumphingover difficulties and dangers which only the discord of tyrants and thedisorganization of peoples rendered harmless. The Atè of the gods haddescended upon Italy, as though to justify the common belief that theexpedition of Charles was divinely sustained and guided. [2]

 [1] Venice remained neutral. She had refused to side with Charles, on the pretext that the fear of the Turk kept her engaged. She declined to join the league of Alfonso by saying it was mad to save others at the risk of drawing the war into your own territory. Nothing is more striking than the want of patriotic sentiment or generous concurrence to a common end in Italy at this time. Florence, by temper and tradition favorable to France, had been drawn into the league by Piero de' Medici, whose sympathies were firm for the Aragonese princes. 

 [2] This, of course, was Savonarola's prophecy. But both Guicciardini and De Comities use invariably the same language. The phrase _Dieu monstroit conduire l'entreprise_ frequently recurs in the _Memoirs_ of De Comines. 

While Alfonso and Alexander were providing for their safety in theSouth, Charles remained at Lyons, still uncertain whether he shouldenter Italy by sea or land, or indeed whether he should enter it at all. Having advanced so far as the Rhone valley, he felt satisfied with hisachievement and indulged himself in a long bout of tournaments andpastimes. Besides, the want of money, which was to be his chiefembarrassment throughout the expedition, had already made itselffelt. [1] It was an Italian who at length roused him to make good hispurpose against Italy--Giuliano della Rovere, [2] the haughty nephew ofSixtus, the implacable foe of Alexander, whom he was destined to succeedin course of time upon the Papal throne. Burning to punish the Marrano, or apostate Moor, as he called Alexander, Giuliano stirred the king withtaunts and menaces until Charles felt he could delay his march nolonger. When once the French army got under weigh, it moved rapidly. Leaving Vienne on August 23, 1494, 3, 600 men at arms, the flower of theFrench chivalry, 6, 000 Breton archers, 6, 000 crossbowmen, 8, 000 Gasconinfantry, 8, 000 Swiss and German lances, crossed the Mont Genevre, debouched on Susa, passed through Turin, and entered Asti on September19. [3] Neither Piedmont nor Montferrat stirred to resist them. Yet atalmost any point upon the route they might have been at least delayed byhardy mountaineers until the commissariat of so large a force had provedan insurmountable difficulty. But before this hunchback conqueror withthe big head and little legs, the valleys had been exalted and the roughplaces had been made plain. The princes whose interest it might havebeen to throw obstacles in the way of Charles were but children. TheDuke of Savoy was only twelve years old, the Marquis of Montferratfourteen; their mothers and guardians made terms with the French king, and opened their territories to his armies. 

 [1] 'La despense de ces navires estoit fort grande, et suis d'advis qu'elle cousta trois cens mille francs, et si ne servit de rien, et y alla tout l'argent contant que le Roy peut finer de ses finances: car comme j'ay dit, il n'estoit point pourveu ne de sens, ne d'argent, oy d'autre chose nécessaire à telle entreprise, et si en vint bien à bout, moyennant la grâce de Dieu, qui clairement le donna ainsi à cognoistre. ' De Comines, lib. Vii. 

 [2] Guicciardini calls him on this occasion 'fatale instrumento e allora e prima e poi de' mali d' Italia. ' Lib. I. Cap. 3. 

 [3] I have followed the calculation of Sismondi (vol. Vii. P. 383), to which should be added perhaps another 10, 000 in all attached to the artillery, and 2, 000 for sappers, miners, carpenters, etc. See Dennistoun, _Dukes of Urbino_, vol. I. P. 433, for a detailed list of Charles's armaments by land and sea. 

At Asti Charles was met by Lodovico Sforza and his father-in-law, Ercoled' Este. The whole of that Milanese Court which Corio describes[1]followed in their train. It was the policy of the Italian princes toentrap their conqueror with courtesies, and to entangle in silkenmeshes the barbarian they dreaded. What had happened already at Lyons, what was going to repeat itself at Naples, took place at Asti. TheFrench king lost his heart to ladies, and confused his policy bypromises made to Delilahs in the ballroom. At Asti he fell ill of thesmall-pox, but after a short time he recovered his health, and proceededto Pavia. Here a serious entanglement of interests arose. Charles wasbound by treaties and engagements to Lodovico and his proud wifeBeatrice d' Este; the very object of his expedition was to dethroneAlfonso and to assume the crown of Naples; yet at Pavia he had to endurethe pathetic spectacle of his forlorn cousin[2] the young GiovanniGaleazzo Sforza in prison, and to hear the piteous pleadings of thebeautiful Isabella of Aragon. Nursed in chivalrous traditions, incapableof resisting a woman's tears, what was Charles to do, when this princessin distress, the wife of his first cousin, the victim of his friendLodovico, the sister of his foe Alfonso, fell at his feet and besoughthim to have mercy on her husband, on her brother, on herself? Thesituation was indeed enough to move a stouter heart than that of thefeeble young king. For the moment Charles returned evasive answers tohis petitioners; but the trouble of his soul was manifest, and no soonerhad he set forth on his way to Piacenza than the Moor resolved toremove the cause of further vacillation. Sending to Pavia, Lodovico hadhis nephew poisoned. [3] When the news of Gian Galeazzo's death reachedthe French camp, it spread terror and imbittered the mistrust which wasalready springing up between the frank cavaliers and the plausibleItalians with whom they had to deal. 

 [1] See above, p. 548. 

 [2] The mothers of Charles VIII. And Gian Galeazzo were sisters, princesses of Savoy. 

 [3] Sismondi does not discuss the fact minutely, but he inclines to believe that Gian Galeazzo was murdered. Michelet raises a doubt about it, though the evidence is such as he would have accepted without question in the case of a Borgia. Guicciardini, who recounts the whole matter at length, says that all Italy believed the Duke had been murdered, and quotes Teodoro da Pavia, one of the royal physicians, who attested to having seen clear signs of a slow poison in the young man. Pontano, _de Prudentiâ_, lib. 4, repeats the accusation. Guicciardini only doubts Lodovico's motives. He inclines to think the murder had been planned long before, and that Charles was invited into Italy in order that Lodovico might have a good opportunity for effecting it, while at the same time he had taken care to get the investiture of the Duchy from the Emperor ready against the event. 

What was this beautiful land in the midst of which they foundthemselves, a land whose marble palaces were thronged with cut-throatsin disguise, whose princes poisoned while they smiled, whose luxuriantmeadows concealed fever, whose ladies carried disease upon their lips?To the captains and the soldiery of France, Italy already appeared asplendid and fascinating Circe, arrayed with charms, surrounded withillusions, hiding behind perfumed thickets her victims changed tobrutes, and building the couch of her seduction on the bones of murderedmen. Yet she was so beautiful that, halt as they might for a moment andgaze back with yearning on the Alps that they had crossed, they foundthemselves unable to resist her smile. Forward they must march throughthe garden of enchantment, henceforth taking the precaution to walk withdrawn sword, and, like Orlando in Morgana's park, to stuff their casqueswith roses that they might not hear the siren's voice too clearly. Itwas thus that Italy began the part she played through the Renaissancefor the people of the North. _The White Devil of Italy_ is the title ofone of Webster's best tragedies. A white Devil, a radiant daughter ofsin and death, holding in her hands the fruit of the knowledge of goodand evil, and tempting the nations to eat: this is how Italy struck thefancy of the men of the sixteenth century. She was feminine, and theywere virile; but she could teach and they must learn. She gave thempleasure; they brought force. The fruit of her embraces with the nationswas the spirit of modern culture, the genius of the age in which welive. 

Two terrible calamities warned the Italians with what new enemies theyhad to deal. Twice at the commencement of the invasion did the Frenchuse the sword which they had drawn to intimidate the sorceress. Theseterror-striking examples were the massacres of the inhabitants ofRapallo on the Genoese Riviera, and of Fivizzano in Lunigiana. Soldiersand burghers, even prisoners and wounded men in the hospitals, werebutchered, first by the Swiss and German guards, and afterwards by theFrench, who would not be outdone by them in energy. It was thus that theItalians, after a century of bloodless battles and parade campaigning, learned a new art of war, and witnessed the first act of thoseApocalyptic tragedies which were destined to drown the peninsula withFrench, Spanish, German, Swiss, and native blood. 

Meanwhile the French host had reached Parma, traversing, all through thegolden autumn weather, those plains where mulberry and elm are marriedby festoons of vines above a billowy expanse of maize and corn. FromParma, placed beneath the northern spurs of the Apennines, to Sarzana, on the western coast of Italy, where the marbles of Carrara build theirbarrier against the Tyrrhene Sea, there leads a winding barren mountainpass. Charles took this route with his army, and arrived in thebeginning of November before the walls of Sarzana. Meanwhile we may wellask what Piero de' Medici had been doing, and how he had fulfilled hisengagement with Alfonso. He had undertaken, it will be remembered, tohold the passes of the Apennines upon this side. To have embarrassed theFrench troops among those limestone mountains, thinly forested with pineand chestnut-trees, and guarded here and there with ancient fortresses, would have been a matter of no difficulty. With like advantages 2, 000Swiss troops during their wars of independence would have laughed toscorn the whole forces of Burgundy and Austria. But Piero, a feeble andfalse tyrant, preoccupied with Florentine factions, afraid of Lucca, anddisinclined to push forward into the territory of the Sforza, had as yetdone nothing when the news arrived that Sarzana was on the point ofcapitulation. In this moment of peril he rode as fast as horses couldcarry him to the French camp, besought an interview with Charles, andthen and there delivered up to him the keys of Sarzana and its citadel, together with those of Pietra Santa, Librafratta, Pisa, and Leghorn. Anyone who has followed the sea-coast between Pisa and Sarzana canappreciate the enormous value of these concessions to the invader. Theyrelieved him of the difficulty of forcing his way along a narrow belt ofland, which is hemmed in on one side by the sea and on the other by thehighest and most abrupt mountain range in Italy. To have done this inthe teeth of a resisting army and beneath the walls of hostile castleswould have been all but impossible. As it was, Piero cut the Gordianknot by his incredible cowardice, and for himself gained only ruin anddishonor. Charles, the foe against whom he had plotted with Alfonso andAlexander, laughed in his face and marched at once into Pisa. TheFlorentines, whom he had hitherto engaged in ah unpopular policy, nowrose in fury, expelled him from the city, sacked his palace, and erasedfrom their memory the name of Medici except for execration. Theunsuccessful tyrant, who had proved a traitor to his allies, to hiscountry, and to himself, saved his life by flying first to Bologna andthence to Venice, where he remained in a sort of polite captivity--safe, but a slave, until the Doge and his council saw which way affairs wouldtend. 

On the 9th of November Florence after a tyranny of fifty years, and Pisaafter the servitude of a century, recovered their liberties and wereable to reconstitute republican governments. But the situation of thetwo states was very different. The Florentines had never lost the nameof liberty, which in Italy at that period meant less the freedom of theinhabitants to exercise self-government than the independence of thecity in relation to its neighbors. The Pisans on the other hand had beenreduced to subjection by Florence: their civic life had been stifled, their pride wounded in the tenderest point of honor, their populationdecimated by proscription and exile. The great sin of Florence was theenslavement of Pisa: and Pisa in this moment of anarchy burned toobliterate her shame with bloodshed. The French, understanding none ofthe niceties of Italian politics, and ignorant that in giving freedom toPisa they were robbing Florence of her rights, looked on with wonder atthe citizens who tossed the lion of the tyrant town into the Arno andtook up arms against its officers. It is sad to witness this last spasmof the long-suppressed passion for liberty in the Pisans, while we knowhow soon they were reduced again to slavery by the selfish sister state, herself too thoroughly corrupt for liberty. The part of Charles, whoespoused the cause of the Pisans with blundering carelessness, pretended to protect the new republic, and then abandoned it a fewmonths later to its fate, provokes nothing but the languid contemptwhich all his acts inspire. 

After the flight of Piero and the proclamation of Pisan liberty the Kingof France was hailed as saviour of the free Italian towns. Charlesreceived a magnificent address from Savonarola, who proceeded to Pisa, and harangued him as the chosen vessel of the Lord and the deliverer ofthe Church from anarchy. At the same time the friar conveyed to theFrench king a courteous invitation from the Florentine republic to entertheir city and enjoy their hospitality. Charles, after upsetting Pierode' Medici with the nonchalance of a horseman in the tilting yard, andrestoring the freedom of Pisa for a caprice, remained as devoid ofpolicy and indifferent to the part assigned him by the prophet as he wasbefore. He rode, armed at all points, into Florence on November 17, andtook up his residence in the palace of the Medici. Then he informed theelders of the city that he had come as conqueror and not as guest, andthat he intended to reserve to himself the disposition of the state. 

It was a dramatic moment. Florence, with the Arno flowing through hermidst, and the hills around her gray with olive-trees, was then evenmore lovely than we see her now. The whole circuit of her wallsremained, nor had their crown of towers been leveled yet to makeresistance of invading force more easy Brunelleschi's dome and Giotto'stower and Arnolfo's Palazzo and the Loggie of Orcagna gave distinctionto her streets and squares. Her churches were splendid with frescoes intheir bloom, and with painted glass, over which as yet the injury of buta few brief years had passed. Her palaces, that are as strong ascastles, overflowed with a population cultivated, polished, elegant, refined, and haughty. This Florence, the city of scholars, artists, intellectual sybarites, and citizens in whom the blood of the oldfactions beat, found herself suddenly possessed as a prey of war byflaunting Gauls in their outlandish finery, plumed Germans, kiltedCelts, and particolored Swiss. On the other hand these barbarians awokein a terrestrial paradise of natural and æsthetic beauty. Which of uswho has enjoyed the late gleams of autumn in Valdarno, but can pictureto himself the revelation of the inner meaning of the world, incomprehensible yet soul-subduing, which then first dawned upon theBreton bowmen and the bulls of Uri? Their impulse no doubt was topillage and possess the wealth before them, as a child pulls to piecesthe wonderful flower that has surprised it on some mountain meadow. Butin the very rudeness of desire they paid a homage to the new-foundloveliness of which they had not dreamed before. 

Charles here as elsewhere showed his imbecility. He had entered and laidhands on hospitable Florence like a foe. What would he now do withher--reform the republic--legislate--impose a levy on the citizens, andlead them forth to battle? No. He asked for a huge sum of money, andbegan to bargain. The Florentine secretaries refused his terms. Heinsisted. Then Piero Capponi snatched the paper on which they werewritten, and tore it in pieces before his eyes. Charles cried: 'I shallsound my trumpets. ' Capponi answered: 'We will ring our bells. 'Beautiful as a dream is Florence; but her somber streets, overshadowedby gigantic belfries and masked by grim brown palace-fronts, contained amenace that the French king could not face. Let Capponi sound thetocsin, and each house would become a fortress, the streets would bebarricaded with iron chains, every quarter would pour forth men byhundreds well versed in the arts of civic warfare. Charles gave way, covering with a bad joke the discomfiture he felt: _Ah, Ciappon, Ciappon, voi siete un mal Ciappon!_ The secretaries beat down his terms. All he cared for was to get money. [1] He agreed to content himself with120, 000 florins. A treaty was signed, and in two days he quittedFlorence. 

Hitherto Charles had met with no serious obstacle. His invasion hadfallen like the rain from heaven, and like rain, as far as he wasconcerned, it ran away to waste. Lombardy and Tuscany, the two firstscenes in the pageant displayed by Italy before the French army, hadbeen left behind. Rome now lay before them, magnificent in desolation;not the Rome which the Farnesi and Chigi and Barberini have built upfrom the quarried ruins of amphitheaters and baths, but the Rome of theMiddle Ages, the city crowned with relics of a pagan past, herself stillpagan, and holding in her midst the modern Antichrist. The progress ofthe French was a continued triumph. They reached Siena on the second ofDecember. The Duke of Urbino and the lords of Pesaro and Bologna laiddown their arms at their approach. The Orsini opened their castles:Virginio, the captain-general of the Aragonese army and grand constableof the kingdom of Naples, hastened to win for himself favorable termsfrom the French sovereign. The Baglioni betook themselves to their ownrancors in Perugia. The Duke of Calabria retreated. Italy seemed bent onproving that cowardice and selfishness and incapacity had conquered her. Viterbo was gained: the Ciminian heights were traversed: the Campagna, bounded by the Alban and the Sabine hills, with Rome, a bluish cloudupon the lowlands of the Tiber, spread its solemn breadth of beauty atthe invader's feet. Not a blow had been struck, when he reached thePorta del Popolo upon the 31st of December 1494. At three o'clock in theafternoon began the entry of the French army. It was nine at nightbefore the last soldiers, under the flaring light of torches andflambeaux, defiled through the gates, and took their quarters in thestreets of the Eternal City. The gigantic barbarians of the cantons, flaunting with plumes and emblazoned surcoats, the chivalry of France, splendid with silk mantles and gilded corselets, the Scotch guard intheir wild costume of kilt and philibeg, the scythe-like halberds of theGerman lanz-knechts, the tangled elf-locks of stern-featured Bretons, stamped an ineffaceable impression on the people of the South. On thismemorable occasion, as in a show upon some holiday, marched past beforethem specimens and vanguards of all those legioned races which were soonto be too well at home in every fair Italian dwelling-place. Nothing waswanting to complete the symbol of the coming doom but a representativeof the grim, black, wiry infantry of Spain. 

 [1] The want of money determined all Charles's operations in this expedition. Borrowing from Lodovico, laying requisitions on Piero and the Florentines, pawning the jewels of the Savoy princesses, he passed from place to place, bargaining and contracting debts instead of dictating laws and founding constitutions. _La carestia dei danari_ is a phrase continually recurring in Guicciardini. Speaking of the jewels lent to Charles by the royal families of Savoy and Montferrat at Turin, de Comines exclaims: 'Et pouvez voir quel commencement de guerre c'estoit, si Dieu n'eut guidé l'oeuvre. '

The Borgia meanwhile crouched within the Castle of S. Angelo. How wouldthe Conqueror, now styled Flagellum Dei, deal with the abomination ofdesolation seated in the holy place of Christendom? At the side ofCharles were the Cardinals Ascanio Sforza and Giuliano della Rovere, urging him to summon a council and depose the Pope. But still closer tohis ear was Briçonnet, the _ci-devant_ tradesman, who thought it wouldbecome his dignity to wear a cardinal's hat. On this trifle turned thedestinies of Rome, the doom of Alexander, the fate of the Church. Charles determined to compromise matters. He demanded a few fortresses, a red hat for Briçonnet, Cesare Borgia as a hostage for four months, andDjem, the brother of the Sultan. [1] After these agreements had been madeand ratified, Alexander ventured to leave his castle and receive thehomage of the faithful. 

Charles staid* a month in Rome, and then set out for Naples. The fourthand last scene in the Italian pageant was now to be displayed. After therich plain and proud cities of Lombardy, beneath their rampart ofperpetual snow; after the olive gardens and fair towns of Tuscany; afterthe great name of Rome; Naples, at length, between Vesuvius and the sea, that first station of the Greeks in Italy, world-famed for its legendsof the Sibyl and the sirens and the sorcerer Virgil, received her king. The very names of Parthenope, Posilippo, Inarime, Sorrento, Capri, havetheir fascination. There too the orange and lemon groves are moreluxuriant; the grapes yield sweeter and more intoxicating wine; thevillagers are more classically graceful; the volcanic soil is morefertile; the waves are bluer and the sun is brighter than elsewhere inthe land. None of the conquerors of Italy have had the force to resistthe allurements of the bay of Naples. The Greeks lost their nativeenergy upon these shores and realized in the history of their coloniesthe myth of Ulysses' comrades in the gardens of Circe. Hannibal wastamed by Capua. The Romans in their turn dreamed away their vigor atBaiæ, at Pompeii at Capreæ, until the whole region became a byword forvoluptuous living. Here the Saracens were subdued to mildness, andbecame physicians instead of pirates. Lombards and Normans alike weresoftened down, and lost their barbarous fierceness amid the enchantmentsof the southern sorceress. 

 [1] See above, p. 416, for the history of this unfortunate prince. When Alexander ceded Djem, whom he held as a captive for the Sultan at a yearly revenue of 40, 000 ducats, he was under engagements with Bajazet to murder him. Accordingly Djem died of slow poison soon after he became the guest of Charles. The Borgia preferred to keep faith with the Turk. 

Naples was now destined to ruin for Charles whatever nerve yet remainedto his festival army. The witch too, while brewing for the French hermost attractive potions, mixed with them a deadly poison--the virus of afell disease, memorable in the annals of the modern world, which wasdestined to infect the nations of Europe from this center, and to provemore formidable to our cities than even the leprosy of the MiddleAges. [1]

 [1] Those who are curious to trace the history of the origin of syphilis, should study the article upon the subject in Von Hirsch, _Historisch-geographische Pathologie_ (Erlangen, 1860), and in Rosenbaum _Geschichte der Lustseuche im Alterthum_ (Halle, 1845). Some curious contemporary observations concerning the rapid diffusion of the disease in Italy, its symptoms, and its cure, are contained in Matarazzo's _Cronaca di Perugia_ (_Arch. Stor. It. _ vol. Xvi. Part ii. Pp. 32-36), and in Portovenere (_Arch. St. _ vol. Vi. Pt. Ii. P. 338). The celebrated poem of Fracastorius deserves to be read both for its fine Latinity and for its information. One of the earliest works issued from the Aldine press in 1497 was the _Libellus de Epidemiâ quam vulgo morbum Gallicum vocant_. It was written by Nicolas Leoniceno, and dedicated to the Count Francesco de la Mirandola. 

The kingdom of Naples, through the frequent uncertainty which attendedthe succession to the throne, as well as the suzerainty assumed andmisused by the Popes, had been for centuries a standing cause of discordin Italy. The dynasty which Charles now hoped to dispossess was Spanish. After the death of Joanna II. In 1435, Alfonso, King of Aragon andSicily, who had no claim to the crown beyond what he derived through abastard branch of the old Norman dynasty, conquered Naples, expelledCount Réné of Anjou, and established himself in this new kingdom, whichhe preferred to those he had inherited by right. Alfonso, surnamed theMagnanimous, was one of the most brilliant and romantic personages ofthe fifteenth century. Historians are never weary of relating hisvictories over Caldora and Francesco Sforza, the coup-de-main by whichhe expelled his rival Réné, and the fascination which he exercised inMilan, while a captive, over the jealous spirit of Filippo MariaVisconti. [1] Scholars are no less profuse in their praises of hisvirtues, the justice, humanity, religion, generosity, and culture whichrendered him pre-eminent among the princes of that splendid period. [2]His love of learning was a passion. Whether at home in the retirement ofhis palace, or in his tent during war, he was always attended bystudents, who read aloud and commented on Livy, Seneca, or the Bible. Noprince was more profuse in his presents to learned men. BartolommeoFazio received 500 ducats a year for the composition of his histories, and when, at their conclusion, the scholar asked for a further gift of200 or 300 florins, the prince bestowed upon him 1, 500. The year hedied, Alfonso distributed 20, 000 ducats to men of letters alone. Thisimmoderate liberality is the only vice of which he is accused. It boreits usual fruits in the disorganization of finance. 

 [1] Mach. _Ist. Fior. _ lib. V. Cap. 5. Corio, pp. 332, 333, may be consulted upon the difficulties which Alfonso overcame at the commencement of his conquest. Defeated by the Genoese near the Isle of Ponza, and carried a prisoner to Milan, he succeeded in proving to Filippo Visconti that it was more to his interest to have him king of Naples than to keep the French there. Upon, this the Duke of Milan restored him with honor to his throne, and confirmed him in the conquest which before he had successfully opposed. It is a singular instance of the extent to which Italian princes were controlled by policy and reason. 

 [2] Vespasiano's _Life of Alfonso_ (_Vite di Uomini Illustri_, pp. 48-72) is a model of agreeable composition and vivid delineation. It is written of course from the scholar's more than the politician's point of view. Compare with it Giovio, _Elogia_, and Pontanus, _de Liberalitate_. 

The generous humanity of Alfonso endeared him greatly to theNeapolitans. During the half-century in which so many Italian princessuccumbed to the dagger of their subjects, he, in Naples, where, according to Pontano, 'nothing was cheaper than the life of a man, 'walked up and down unarmed and unattended. 'Why should a father fearamong his children?' he was wont to say in answer to suggestions of thedanger of this want of caution. The many splendid qualities by which hewas distinguished were enhanced rather than obscured by the romance ofhis private life. Married to Margaret of Castile, he had no legitimatechildren; Ferdinand, with whom he shared the government of Naples in1443, and whom he designated as his successor in 1458, was supposed tobe his son by Margaret de Hijar. It was even whispered that thisFerdinand was the child of Catherine the wife of Alfonso's brotherHenry, whom Margaret, to save the honor of the king, acknowledged as herown. Whatever may have been the truth of this dark history, it was knownfor certain that the queen had murdered her rival, the unhappy Margaretde Hijar, and that Alfonso never forgave her or would look upon her fromthat day. Pontano, who was Ferdinand's secretary, told a different tale. He affirmed that the real father of the Duke of Calabria was a Marranoof Valentia. This last story is rendered probable by the brusquecontrast between the character of Alfonso and that of Ferdinand. 

It would be terrible to think that such a father could have been theparent of such a son. In Ferdinand the instinct of liberal culturedegenerated into vulgar magnificence; courtesy and confidence gave placeto cold suspicion and brutal cruelty. His ferocity bordered uponmadness. He used to keep the victims of his hatred in cages, where theirmisery afforded him the same delight as some men derived from watchingthe antics of monkeys. [1] In his hunting establishment were repeatedthe worst atrocities of Bernabo Visconti: wretches mutilated for neglectof his hounds extended their handless stumps for charity to thetravelers through his villages. [2] Instead of the generosity for whichAlfonso had been famous, Ferdinand developed all the arts of avarice. Like Sixtus IV. He made the sale of corn and oil a royal monopoly, trafficking in the hunger of his subjects. [3] Like Alexander VI. Hefattened his viziers and secretaries upon the profits of extortion whichhe shared with them, and when they were fully gorged he cut theirthroats and proclaimed himself the heir through their attainder. [4]Alfonso had been famous for his candor and sincerity. Ferdinand was ademon of dissimulation and treachery. His murder of his guest JacopoPiccinino at the end of a festival, which extended over twenty-sevendays of varied entertainments, won him the applause of Machiavellianspirits throughout Italy. It realized the ideal of treason conceived asa fine art. Not less perfect as a specimen of diabolical cunning was thevengeance which Ferdinand, counseled by his son Alfonso, inflicted onthe barons who conspired against him. [5] Alfonso was a son worthy of histerrible father. The only difference between them was that Ferdinanddissembled, while Alfonso, whose bravery at Otranto against the Turkshad surrounded him with military glory, abandoned himself with cynicismto his passions. Sketching characters of both in the same paragraph, deComines writes: 'Never was man more cruel than Alfonso, nor morevicious, nor more wicked, nor more poisonous, nor more gluttonous. Hisfather was more dangerous, because he could conceal his mind and evenhis anger from sight; in the midst of festivity he would take andslaughter his victims by treachery. Grace or mercy was never found inhim, nor yet compassion for his poor people. Both of them laid forciblehands on women. In matters of the Church they observed nor reverence norobedience. They sold bishoprics, like that of Tarento, which Ferdinanddisposed of for 13, 000 ducats to a Jew in favor of his son whom hecalled a Christian. '

 [1] See Pontanus, _de Immanitate, _ Aldus, 1518, vol. 1. P. 318: 'Ferdinandus Rex Neapolitanorum præclaros etiam viros conclusos carcere etiam bene atque abunde pascebat, eandem ex iis voluptatem capiens quam pueri e conclusis in caveâ aviculis: quâ de re sæpenumero sibi ipsi inter intimos suos diu multumque gratulatus subblanditusque in risum tandem ac cachinnos profundebatur. '

 [2] See Pontanus, _de Immanitate_, Aldus; 1518, vol. I. P. 320: 'Ferd. R. N. Qui cervum aprumve occidissent furtimve palamve, alios remo addixit, alios manibus mutilavit, alios suspendio affecit: agros quoque serendos inderdixit dominis, legendasque aut glandes aut poma, quæ servari quidem volebat in escam feris ad venationis suæ usum. '

 [3] Caracciolo, _de Varietate Fortunæ_, Muratori, vol. Xxii. P. 87, exposes this system in a passage which should be compared with Infessura on the practices of Sixtus. De Comines, lib. Vii. Cap. 11, may be read with profit on the same subject. 

 [4] See Caracciolo, loc. Cit. Pp. 88, 89, concerning the judicial murder of Francesco Coppola and Antonello Perucci, both of whom had been raised to eminence by Ferdinand, used through their lives as the instruments of his extortion, and murdered by him in their rich old age. 

 [5] See De Comines, lib. Vii. Cap. 11; Sismondi, vol. Vii. P. 229. Read also the short account of the massacre of the Barons given in the _Chronicon Venetum_, Muratori, xxiv. P. 15, where the intense loathing felt throughout Italy for Ferdinand and his son Alfonso is powerfully expressed. 

This kind of tyranny carried in itself its own death-warrant. It needednot the voice of Savonarola to proclaim that God would revenge thecrimes of Ferdinand by placing a new sovereign on his throne. It wascommonly believed that the old king died in 1494 of remorse andapprehension, when he knew that the French expedition could no longer bedelayed. Alfonso, for his part, bold general in the field and able manof affairs as he might be, found no courage to resist the conqueror. Itis no fiction of a poet or a moralist, but plain fact of history, thatthis King of Naples, grandson of the great Alfonso and father of theFerdinand to be, quailed before the myriads of accusing dead that roseto haunt his tortured fancy in the supreme hour of peril. The chambersof his palace in Naples were thronged with ghosts by battalions, palespecters of the thousands he had reduced to starvation, bloody phantomsof the barons he had murdered after nameless tortures, thin wraiths ofthose who had wasted away in dungeons under his remorseless rule. Thepeople around his gates muttered in rebellion. He abdicated in favor ofhis son, took ship for Sicily, and died there conscience-stricken in aconvent ere the year was out. 

Ferdinand, a brave youth, beloved by the nation in spite of his father'sand grandfather's tyranny, reigned in his stead. Yet even for him thesituation was untenable. Everywhere he was beset by traitors--by hiswhole army at San Germano, by Trivulzi at Capua, by the German guide atNaples. Without soldiers, without allies, with nothing to rely upon butthe untried goodwill of subjects who had just reason to execrate hisrace, and with the conquerors of Italy advancing daily through hisstates, retreat alone was left to him. After abandoning his castles topillage, burning the ships in the harbor of Naples, and setting DonFederigo together with the Queen dowager and the princess Joanna upon aquick-sailing galley, Ferdinand bade farewell to his kingdom. Historiansrelate that as the shore receded from his view he kept intoning in aloud voice this verse of the 127th Psalm: 'Except the Lord keep thecity, the watchman waketh but in vain. ' Between the beach of Naples andthe rocky shore of Ischia, for which the exiles were bound, there isonly the distance of some seventeen miles. It was in February, a monthof mild and melancholy sunshine in those southern regions, when thewhole bay of Naples with its belt of distant hills is wont to take onetint of modulated azure, that the royal fugitives performed this voyage. Over the sleeping sea they glided; while from the galley's stern theking with a voice as sad as Boabdil's when he sat down to weep forGranada, cried: 'Except the Lord keep the city, the watchman waketh butin vain. '

There was no want of courage in the youth. By his simple presence he hadintimidated a mob of rebels in Naples. By the firmness of his carriagehe subdued the insolent governor of Ischia, and made himself master ofthe island. There he waited till the storm was overpast. Ten times morea man than Charles, he watched the French king depart from Naplesleaving scarcely a rack behind--some troops decimated by disease andunnerved by debauchery, and a general or two without energy or vigor. Then he returned and entered on a career of greater popularity thancould have been enjoyed by him if the French had never made the ficklerace of Naples feel how far more odious is a foreign than a familiaryoke. [1]

Charles entered Naples as a conqueror or liberator on February 22, 1495. He was welcomed and fêted by the Neapolitans, than whom no people aremore childishly delighted with a change of masters. He enjoyed his usualsports, and indulged in his usual love-affairs. With suicidal insolenceand want of policy he alienated the sympathies of the noble families bydividing the titles, offices, and fiefs of the kingdom among hisretinue. [2] Without receiving so much as a provisional investiture fromthe Pope, he satisfied his vanity by parading on May 12 as sovereign, with a ball in one hand and a scepter in the other, through the city. Then he was forced to return upon his path and to seek France with theprecipitancy he had shown in gaining Naples. Alexander, who was witty, said the French had conquered Italy with lumps of chalk and woodenspurs, because they rode unarmed in slippers and sent couriers beforethem to select their quarters. It remained to be seen that theachievements of this conquest could be effaced as easily as a chalk markis rubbed out, or a pair of wooden spurs are broken. 

 [1] The misfortunes and the bravery of this young prince inspire a deep feeling of interest. It is sad to read that after recovering his kingdom in 1496, he died in his twenty-eighth year, worn out with fatigue and with the pleasures of his marriage to his aunt Joanna, whom he loved too passionately. His uncle Frederick, the brother of Alfonso II. , succeeded to the throne. Thus in three years Naples had five Sovereigns. 

 [2] 'Tous estats et offices furent donnez aux François, à deux ou trois, ' says De Comines. 

While Charles was amusing himself at Naples, a storm was gathering inhis rear. A league against him had been formed in April by the greatpowers of Europe. Venice, alarmed for the independence of Italy, andurged by the Sultan, who had reason to dread Charles VIII. , [1] headedthe league. Lodovico, now that he had attained his selfish object in thequiet position of Milan, was anxious for his safety. The Pope stillfeared a general council. Maximilian, who could not forget the slightput upon him in the matter of his daughter and his bride, was willing toco-operate against his rival. Ferdinand and Isabella, having securedthemselves in Roussillon, thought it behooved them to re-establishSpaniards of their kith and kin in Naples. Each of the contractingparties had his rôle assigned to him. Spain undertook to aid Ferdinandof Aragon in Calabria. Venice was to attack the seaports of thekingdom; Lodovico Sforza, to occupy Asti; the King of the Romans, tomake a diversion in the North. Florence alone, though deeply injured byCharles in the matter of Pisa, kept faith with the French. 

 [1] Charles, by an act dated A. D. 1494, September 6, had bought the title of Emperor of Constantinople and Trebizond from Andrew Palæologus (see Gibbon, vol. Viii. P. 183, ed. Milman). When he took Djem from Alexander in Rome, his object was to make use of him in a war against Bajazet; and the Pope was always impressing on the Turk the peril of a Frankish crusade. 

The danger was imminent. Already Ferdinand the Catholic had disembarkedtroops on the shore of Sicily, and was ready to throw an army into theports of Reggio and Tropea. Alexander had refused to carry out histreaty by the surrender of Spoleto. Cesare Borgia had escaped from theFrench camp. The Lombards were menacing Asti, which the Duke of Orleansheld, and without the possession of which there was no safe return toFrance. Asti indeed at this juncture would have fallen, and Charleswould have been caught in a trap, if the Venetians had only been quickor wary enough to engage German mercenaries. [1] The danger of thesituation may best be judged by reading the Memoirs of De Comines, whowas then ambassador at Venice. 'The league was concluded very late oneevening. The next morning the Signory sent for me earlier than usual. They were assembled in great numbers, perhaps a hundred or more, andheld their heads high, made a good cheer, and had not the samecountenance as on the day when they told me of the capture of thecitadel of Naples. [2] My heart was heavy, and I had grave doubts aboutthe person of the king and about all his company; and I thought theirscheme more ripe than it really was, and feared they might have Germansready; and if it had been so, never could the king have got safe out ofItaly. ' Nevertheless De Comines put a brave face on the matter, and toldthe council that he had already received information of the league andhad sent dispatches to his master on the subject. [3] 'After dinner, 'continues De Comines, 'all the ambassadors of the league met for anexcursion on the water, which is the chief recreation at Venice, whereevery one goes according to the retinue he keeps, or at the expense ofthe Signory. There may have been as many as forty gondolas, all bearingdisplayed the arms of their masters upon banners. I saw the whole ofthis company pass before my windows, and there were many minstrels onboard. Those of Milan, one at least of them who had often kept mycompany, put on a brave face not to know me; and for three days Iremained without going forth into the town, nor my people, nor was thereall that time a single courteous word said to me or to any of mysuite. '

 [1] See De Comines, lib. Vii. Cap. 15, pp. 78, 79. 

 [2] De Comines' account of the alarm felt at Venice on that occasion is very graphic: 'They sent for me one morning, and I found them to the number of fifty or sixty in the Doge's bedchamber, for he was ill of colic; and there he told me the news with a good countenance. But none of the company knew so well how to feign as he. Some were seated on a wooden bench, leaning their heads on their hands, and others otherwise; and all showed great heaviness at heart. I think that when the news reached Rome of the battle of Cannæ, the senators were not more confounded or frightened. '

 [3] Bembo, in his _Venetian History_ (lib. Ii. P. 32), tells a different tale. He represents De Comines quite unnerved by the news. 

Returning northward by the same route, Charles passed Rome and reachedSiena on June 13. The Pope had taken refuge, first at Orvieto, andafterwards at Perugia, on his approach; but he made no concessions. Charles could not obtain from him an investiture of the kingdom hepretended to have conquered, while he had himself to surrender thefortresses of Civita Vecchia and Terracina. Ostia alone remained in theclutch of Alexander's implacable enemy, the Cardinal della Rovere. InTuscany the Pisan question was again opened. The French army desired tosee the liberties of Pisa established on a solid basis before theyquitted Italy. On their way to Naples the misfortunes of that ancientcity had touched them: now on their return they were clamorous thatCharles should guarantee its freedom. But to secure this object was anaffair of difficulty. The forces of the league had already taken thefield, and the Duke of Orleans was being besieged in Novara. TheFlorentines, jealous of the favor shown, in manifest infringement oftheir rights, to citizens whom they regarded as rebellious bondsmen, assumed an attitude of menace. Charles could only reply with vaguepromises to the solicitations of the Pisans, strengthen the Frenchgarrisons in their fortresses, and march forward as quickly as possibleinto the Apennines. The key of the pass by which he sought to regainLombardy is the town of Pontremoli. Leaving that in ashes on June 29, the French army, distressed for provisions and in peril among thosemelancholy hills, pushed onward with all speed. They knew that theallied forces, commanded by the Marquis of Mantua, were waiting for themat the other side upon the Taro, near the village of Fornovo. Here, ifanywhere, the French ought to have been crushed. They numbered about9, 000 men in all, while the allies were close upon 40, 000. The Frenchwere weary with long marches, insufficient food, and bad lodgings. TheItalians were fresh and well cared for. Yet in spite of all this, inspite of blind generalship and total blundering, Charles continued toplay his part of fortune's favorite to the end. A bloody battle, whichlasted for an hour, took place upon the banks of the Taro. [1] TheItalians suffered so severely that, though they still far outnumberedthe French, no persuasions could make them rally and renew the fight. Charles in his own person ran great peril during this battle; and whenit was over, he had still to effect his retreat upon Asti in the teethof a formidable army. The good luck of the French and the dilatorycowardice of their opponents saved them now again for the last time. 

 [1] The action at Fornovo lasted a quarter of an hour, according to De Comines. The pursuit of the Italians occupied about three quarters of an hour more. Unaccustomed to the quick tactics of the French, the Italians, when once broken, persisted in retreating upon Reggio and Parma. The Gonzaghi alone distinguished themselves for obstinate courage, and lost four or five members of their princely house. The Stradiots, whose scimitars ought to have dealt rudely with the heavy French men-at-arms, employed their time in pillaging the Royal pavilion, very wisely abandoned to their avarice by the French captains. To such an extent were military affairs misconstrued in Italy, that, on the strength of this brigandage, the Venetians claimed Fornovo for a victory. See my essay 'Fornovo, ' in _Sketches and Studies in Italy_, for a description of the ground on which the battle was fought. 

On July 15, Charles at the head of his little force marched into Astiand was practically safe. Here the young king continued to give signalproofs of his weakness. Though he knew that the Duke of Orleans was hardpressed in Novara, he made no effort to relieve him; nor did he attemptto use the 20, 000 Switzers who descended from their Alps to aid him inthe struggle with the league. From Asti he removed to Turin, where hespent his time in flirting with Anna Soléri, the daughter of his host. This girl had been sent to harangue him with a set oration, and hadfulfilled her task, in the words of an old witness, 'without wavering, coughing, spitting, or giving way at all. ' Her charms delayed the kingin Italy until October 19, when he signed a treaty at Vercelli with theDuke of Milan. At this moment Charles might have held Italy in hisgrasp. His forces, strengthened by the unexpected arrival of so manySwitzers, and by a junction with the Duke of Orleans, would have beensufficient to overwhelm the army of the league, and to intimidate thefaction of Ferdinand in Naples. Yet so light-minded was Charles, and soimpatient were his courtiers, that he now only cared for a quick returnto France. Reserving to himself the nominal right of using Genoa as anaval station, he resigned that town to Lodovico Sforza, and confirmedhim in the tranquil possession of his Duchy. On October 22 he leftTurin, and entered his own dominions through the Alps of Dauphiné. Already his famous conquest of Italy was reckoned among the wonders ofthe past, and his sovereignty over Naples had become the shadow of aname. He had obtained for himself nothing but momentary glory, while heimposed on France a perilous foreign policy, and on Italy the burden ofbloody warfare in the future. 

A little more than a year had elapsed between the first entry of Charlesinto Lombardy and his return to France. Like many other brilliantepisodes of history, this conquest, so showy and so ephemeral, was moreimportant as a sign than as an actual event. 'His passage, ' saysGuicciardini, 'was the cause not only of change in states, downfalls ofkingdoms, desolations of whole districts, destructions of cities, barbarous butcheries; but also of new customs, new modes of conduct, newand bloody habits of war, diseases hitherto unknown. The organizationupon which the peace and harmony of Italy depended was so upset that, since that time, other foreign nations and barbarous armies have beenable to trample her under foot and to ravage her at pleasure. ' The onlyerror of Guicciardini is the assumption that the holiday excursion ofCharles VIII. Was in any deep sense the cause of these calamities. [1]In truth the French invasion opened a new era for the Italians, but onlyin the same sense as a pageant may form the prelude to a tragedy. Everymonarch of Europe, dazzled by the splendid display of Charles andforgetful of its insignificant results, began to look with greedy eyesupon the wealth of the peninsula. The Swiss found in those richprovinces an inexhaustible field for depredation. The Germans, under thepretense of religious zeal, gave a loose rein to their animal appetitesin the metropolis of Christendom. France and Spain engaged in a duel tothe death for the possession of so fair a prey. The French, maddened bymere cupidity, threw away those chances which the goodwill of the raceat large afforded them. [2] Louis XII. Lost himself in petty intrigues, by which he finally weakened his own cause to the profit of the Borgiasand Austria. Francis I. Foamed his force away like a spent wave atMarignano and Pavia. The real conqueror of Italy was Charles V. Italy inthe sixteenth century was destined to receive the impress of the Spanishspirit, and to bear the yoke of Austrian dukes. Hand in hand withpolitical despotism marched religious tyranny. The Counter-Reformationover which the Inquisition presided, was part and parcel of the Spanishpolicy for the enslavement of the nation no less than for therestoration of the Church. Meanwhile the weakness, discord, egotism, andcorruption which prevented the Italians from resisting the Frenchinvasion in 1494, continued to increase. Instead of being lessoned byexperience, Popes, Princes, and Republics vied with each other incalling in the strangers, pitting Spaniard against Frenchman, and payingthe Germans to expel the Swiss, oblivious that each new army offoreigners they summoned was in reality a new swarm of devouringlocusts. In the midst of this anarchy it is laughable to hear the shrillvoice of priests, like Julius and Leo, proclaiming before God their vowsto rid Italy of the barbarians. The confusion was tenfold confoundedwhen the old factions of Guelf and Ghibelline put on a new garb ofFrench and Spanish partisanship. Town fought with town and family withfamily, in the cause of strangers whom they ought to have resisted withone will and steady hatred. The fascination of fear and the love ofnovelty alike swayed the fickle population of Italian cities. Theforeign soldiers who inflicted on the nation such cruel injuries made agrand show in their streets, and there will always be a mob so childishas to covet pageants at the expense of freedom and even of safety. 

 [1] Guicciardini's _Dialogo del Reggimento di Firenze_ (_Op. Ined. _ vol. Ii. P. 94) sets forth the state of internal anarchy and external violence which followed the departure of Charles VIII. , with wonderful acuteness. 'Se per sorte l' uno Oltramontano caccerà l' altro, Italia resterà in estrema servitù, ' is an exact prophecy of what happened before the end of the sixteenth century, when Spain had beaten France in the duel for Italy. 

 [2] Matarazzo, in his _Cronaca della Città di Perugia_ (_Arch. St. _, vol. Xvi. Part 2, p. 23), gives a lively picture of the eagerness with which the French were greeted in 1495, and of the wanton brutality by which they soon alienated the people. In this he agrees almost textually with De Comines, who writes: 'Le peuple nous advouoit comme Saincts, estimans en nous toute foy et bonté; mais ce propos ne leur dura gueres, tant pour nostre desordre et pillerie, et qu'aussi les ennemis oppreschoient le peuple en tous quartiers, ' etc. , lib. Vii. Cap. 6. In the first paragraph of the _Chronicon Venetum_ (_Muratori_, vol. Xxlv. P. 5), we read concerning the advent of Charles: 'I popoli tutti dicevano _Benedictus qui venit in nomine Domini_. Nè v'era alcuno che li potesse contrastare, nè resistere, tanto era da tutti i popoli Italiani chiamato. ' The Florentines, as burghers of a Guelf city, were always loyal to the French. Besides, their commerce with France (_e. G. _ the wealth of Filippo Strozzi) made it to their interest to favor the cause of the French. See Guicc. I. 2, p. 62. This loyalty rose to enthusiasm under the influence of Savonarola, survived the stupidities of Charles VIII. And Louis XII. , and committed the Florentines in 1328 to the perilous policy of expecting aid from Francis I. 

In spite of its transitory character the invasion of Charles VIII. , therefore, was a great fact in the history of the Renaissance. It was, to use the pregnant phrase of Michelet, no less than the revelation ofItaly to the nations of the North. Like a gale sweeping across a forestof trees in blossom, and bearing their fertilizing pollen, after it hasbroken and deflowered their branches, to far-distant trees that hithertohave bloomed in barrenness, the storm of Charles's army carried far andwide through Europe thought-dust, imperceptible, but potent to enrichthe nations. The French alone, says Michelet, understood Italy. Howterrible would have been a conquest by Turks with their barbarism, ofSpaniards with their Inquisition, of Germans with their brutality! ButFrance, impressible, sympathetic, ardent for pleasure, generous, amiableand vain, was capable of comprehending the Italian spirit. From theItalians the French communicated to the rest of Europe what we call themovement of the Renaissance. There is some truth in this panegyric ofMichelet's. The passage of the army of Charles VIII. Marks aturning-point in modern history, and from this epoch dates the diffusionof a spirit of culture over Europe. But Michelet forgets to notice thatthe French never rightly understood their vocation with regard to Italy. They had it in their power to foster that free spirit which might havemade her a nation capable, in concert with France, of resisting CharlesV. Instead of doing so, they pursued the pettiest policy of avarice andegotism. Nor did they prevent that Spanish conquest the horrors of whichtheir historian has so eloquently described. Again, we must rememberthat it was the Spaniards and not the French who saved Italy from beingbarbarized by the Turk. 

For the historian of Italy it is sad and humiliating to have toacknowledge that her fate depended wholly on the action of more powerfulnations, that she lay inert and helpless at the discretion of theconqueror in the duels between Spain and France and Spain and Islam. Yetthis is the truth. It would seem that those peoples to whom we chieflyowe advance in art and knowledge, are often thus the captives of theirintellectual inferiors. Their spiritual ascendency is purchased at theexpense of political solidity and national prosperity. This was the casewith Greece, with Judah, and with Italy. The civilization of theItalians, far in advance of that of other European nations, unnervedthem in the conflict with robust barbarian races. Letters and the artsand the civilities of life were their glory. 'Indolent princes and mostdespicable arms' were their ruin. Whether the Renaissance of the modernworld would not have been yet more brilliant if Italy had remained free, who shall say? The very conditions which produced her culture seem tohave rendered that impossible. 

APPENDICES

APPENDIX I. 

_Blood-madness_. See Chapter iii, p. 109. 

One of the most striking instances afforded by history of Hæmatomania ina tyrant is Ibrahim ibn Ahmed, prince of Africa and Sicily (A. D. 875). This man, besides displaying peculiar ferocity in his treatment ofenemies and prisoners of war, delighted in the execution of horriblebutcheries within the walls of his own palace. His astrologers havingonce predicted that he should die by the hands of a 'small assassin, ' hekilled off the whole retinue of his pages, and filled up their placeswith a suit of negroes whom he proceeded to treat after the samefashion. On another occasion, when one of his three hundred eunuchs hadby chance been witness of the tyrant's drunkenness, Ibrahim slaughteredthe whole band. Again, he is said to have put an end to sixty youths, originally selected for his pleasures, burning them by gangs of five orsix in the furnace, or suffocating them in the hot chambers of hisbaths. Eight of his brothers were murdered in his presence; and whenone, who was so diseased that he could scarcely stir, implored to beallowed to end his days in peace, Ibrahim answered: 'I make noexceptions. ' His own son Abul-Aghlab was beheaded by his orders beforehis eyes; and the execution of chamberlains, secretaries, ministers, andcourtiers was of common occurrence. But his fiercest fury was directedagainst women. He seems to have been darkly jealous of the perpetuationof the human race. Wives and concubines were strangled, sawn asunder, and buried alive, if they showed signs of pregnancy. His female childrenwere murdered as soon as they saw the light; sixteen of them, whom hismother managed to conceal and rear at her own peril, were massacred uponthe spot when Ibrahim discovered whom they claimed as father. Contemporary Arab chroniclers, pondering upon the fierce and gloomypassions of this man, arrived at the conclusion that he was the subjectof a strange disease, a portentous secretion of black bile producing themelancholy which impelled him to atrocious crimes. Nor does theprinciple on which this diagnosis of his case was founded appearunreasonable. Ibrahim was a great general, an able ruler, a man of firmand steady purpose; not a weak and ineffectual libertine whom lust forblood and lechery had placed below the level of brute beasts. When thetime for his abdication arrived, he threw aside his mantle of state anddonned the mean garb of an Arab devotee, preached a crusade, and led anarmy into Italy, where he died of dysentery before the city of Cosenza. The only way of explaining his eccentric thirst for slaughter is tosuppose that it was a dark monomania, a form of psychopathy analogous tothat which we find in the Maréchal de Retz and the Marquise deBrinvilliers. One of the most marked symptoms of this disease was thecuriosity which led him to explore the entrails of his victims, and tofeast his eyes upon their quivering hearts. After causing his firstminister Ibn-Semsâma to be beaten to death, he cut his body open, andwith his own knife sliced the brave man's heart. On another occasion hehad 500 prisoners brought before him. Seizing a sharp lance he firstexplored the region of the ribs, and then plunged the spear-point intothe heart of each victim in succession. A garland of these hearts wasmade and hung up on the gate of Tunis. The Arabs regarded the heart asthe seat of thought in man, the throne of the will, the center ofintellectual existence. In this preoccupation with the hearts of hisvictims we may therefore trace the jealousy of human life which Ibrahimdisplayed in his murder of pregnant women, as well as a tyrant's furyagainst the organ which had sustained his foes in their resistance. Wecan only comprehend the combination of sanguinary lust with Ibrahim'svigorous conduct of civil and military affairs, on the hypothesis thatthis man-tiger, as Amari, to whom I owe these details, calls him, waspossessed with a specific madness. 

APPENDIX II. 

_Nardi, Istorie di Firenze, lib. I. Cap. 4. _ See Chap. Iv. P. 195. 

After the freedom regained by the expulsion of the Duke of Athens andthe humbling of the nobles, regularity for the future in the governmentmight have been expected, since a very great equality among the burghershad been established in consequence of those troubles. The city too hadbeen divided into quarters, and the supreme magistracy of the republicassigned to the eight priors, called _Signori Priori di libertá_, together with the Gonfalonier of Justice. The eight priors were chosen, two for each quarter; the Gonfalonier, their chief, differed in norespect from his colleagues save in precedence of dignity; and as thefourth part of the honors pertained to the members of the lesser arts, their turn kept coming round to that quarter to which the Gonfalonierbelonged. This magistracy remained for two whole months, always livingand sleeping in the Palace; in order that, according to the notion ofour ancestors, they might be able to attend with greater diligence tothe affairs of the commonwealth, in concert with their colleagues, whowere the sixteen gonfaloniers of the companies of the people, and thetwelve _buoni uomini_, or special advisers of the Signory. Thesemagistrates collectively in one body were called the College, or elsethe Signory and the Colleagues. After this magistracy came the Senate;the number of which varied, and the name of which was altered severaltimes up to the year 1494, according to circumstances. The largercouncils, whose business it was to discuss and make the laws and allprovisions both general and particular, were until that date two; theone called the Council of the people, formed only by the _cittadinipopolani_, and the other the Council of the Commune, because it embracedboth nobles and plebeians from the-date of the formation of thesecouncils. [1] The appointment of the magistrates, which of old times andunder the best and most equitable governments was made on the occasionof each election, in this more modern period was consigned to a specialcouncil called _Squittino_. [2] The mode and act of the election wastermed _Squittinare_, which is equivalent to Scrutinium in the Latintongue, because minute investigation was made into the qualities of theeligible burghers. This method, however, tended greatly to corrupt thegood manners of the city, inasmuch as, the said scrutiny being madeevery three or five years, and not on each occasion, as would have beenright, considering the present quality of the burghers and the badnessof the times, those who had once obtained their nomination and been putinto the purses thereto appointed, being certain to arrive some time atthe honors and offices for which they were designed, became careless andnegligent of good customs in their lives. The proper function of theGonfaloniers was, in concert with their Gonfalons and companies, todefend with arms the city from perils foreign and civil, when occasionrose, and to control the fire-guards specially deputed by thatmagistracy in four convenient stations. All the laws and provisions, aswell private as public, proposed by the Signory, had to be approved andcarried by that College, then by the Senate, and lastly by the Councilsnamed above. Notwithstanding this rule, everything of high importancepertaining to the state was discussed and carried into execution duringthe whole time that the Medici administered the city by the Councilvulgarly called _Balia_, composed of men devoted to that government. While the Medici held sway, the magistracy of the _Dieci della Guerra_or of Liberty and Peace were superseded by the _Otto della Pratica_ inthe conduct of all that concerned wars, truces, and treaties of peace, in obedience to the will of the chief agents of that government. The_Otto di guardia e balia_ were then as now delegated to criminalbusiness, but they were appointed by the fore-named Council of Balia, or rather such authority and commission was assigned them by theSignory, and this usage was afterwards continued on their entry intooffice. Let this suffice upon these matters. Now the burghers who havethe right of discussing and determining the affairs of the republic wereand still are called privileged, _beneficiati_ or _statuali_, of thatquality and condition to which, according to the laws of our city, thegovernment belongs; in other words they are eligible for office, asdistinguished from those who have not this privilege. Consequently the_benefiziati_ and _statuali_ of Florence correspond to the_gentiluomini_ of Venice. Of these burghers there were about 400families or houses, but at different times the number was larger, andbefore the plague of 1527 they made up a total of about 4, 000 citizenseligible for the Consiglio Grande. During the period of freedom between1494 and 1512 the other or nonprivileged citizens could be elevated tothis rank of enfranchisement according as they were judged worthy by theCouncil: at the present time they gain the same distinction by suchmerits as may be pleasing to the ruler of the city for the time being:our commonwealth from the year 1433 having been governed according tothe will of its own citizens, though one faction has from time to timeprevailed over another, and though before that date the republic wasdistressed and shaken by the divisions which affected the whole ofItaly, and by many others which are rather to be reckoned as seditionpeculiar and natural to free cities. Seeing that men by good and evilarts in combination are always striving to attain the summit of humanaffairs, together also with the favor of fortune, who ever insists onhaving her part in our actions. 

 [1] Lorenzo de' Medici superseded these two councils by the Council of the Seventy, without, however, suppressing them. 

 [2] A corruption of Scrutinio. 

_Varchi: Storia Fiorentina, lib. Iii. Caps. 20, 21, 22. _

The whole city of Florence is divided into four quarters, the first ofwhich takes in the whole of that part which is now called Beyond theArno, and the chief church of the district gives it the name of SantoSpirito. The other three, which embrace all that is called This side theArno, also take their names from their chief churches, and are theQuarters of Sta. Croce, Sta. Maria Novella, and San Giovanni. Each ofthese four quarters is divided into four gonfalons, named after thedifferent animals or other things they carry painted on their ensigns. The quarter of Santo Spirito includes the gonfalons of the Ladder, theShell, the Whip, and the Dragon; that of Santa Croce, the Car, the Ox, the Golden Lion, and the Wheels; that of Santa Maria Novella, the Viper, the Unicorn, the Red Lion, and the White Lion; that of San Giovanni, theBlack Lion, the Dragon, the Keys, and the Vair. Now all the householdsand families of Florence are included and classified under these fourquarters and sixteen gonfalons, so that there is no burgher of Florencewho does not rank in one of the four quarters and one of the sixteengonfalons. Each gonfalon had its standard-bearer, who carried thestandard like captains of bands; and their chief office was to run witharms whenever they were called by the Gonfalonier of Justice, and todefend, each under his own ensign, the palace of the Signory, and tofight for the people's liberty; wherefore they were called Gonfaloniersof the companies of the people, or, more briefly, from their number, theSixteen. Now since they never assembled by themselves alone, seeing thatthey could not propose or carry any measure without the Signory, theywere also called the Colleagues, that is, the companions of the Signory, and their title was venerable. This, after the Signory, was the firstand most honorable magistracy of Florence; and after them came theTwelve Buonuomini, also called, for the like reason, Colleagues. So theSignory with the Gonfalonier of Justice, the Sixteen, and the Twelvewere called the Three Greater. No man was said to have the franchise(_aver lo stato_), and in consequence to frequent the council, or toexercise any office, whose grandfather or father had not occupied orbeen passed for (_seduto o veduto_) one of these three magistracies. Tobe passed (_veduto_) Gonfalonier or Colleague meant this: when a man'sname was drawn from the purse of the Gonfaloniers or of the College toexercise the office of Gonfalonier or Colleague, but by reason of beingbelow the legal age, or for some other cause, he never sat himself uponthe Board or was in fact Gonfalonier or Colleague, he was then said tohave been passed; and this held good of all the other magistracies ofthe city. 

It should also be known that all the Florentine burghers were obliged torank in one of the twenty-one arts: that is, no one could be a burgherof Florence unless he or his ancestors had been approved andmatriculated in one of these arts, whether they practiced it or no. Without the proof of such matriculation he could not be drawn for anyoffice, or exercise any magistracy, or even have his name put into thebags. The arts were these: i. Judges and Notaries (for the doctors ofthe law were styled of old in Florence Judges); Merchants, or the Artsof; ii. Calimala, [1] iii. Exchange, iv. Wool; Porta Santa Maria, or theArts of; v. Silk; vi. Physicians and Apothecaries; vii. Furriers. Theothers were viii. Butchers, ix. Shoemakers, x. Blacksmiths, xi. Linen-drapers and Clothesmen, xii. Masters, or Masons, andStone-cutters, xiii. Vintners, xiv. Innkeepers, xv. Oilsellers, Pork-butchers, and Rope-makers, xvi. Hosiers, xvii. Armorers, xviii. Locksmiths, xix. Saddlers, xx. Carpenters, xxi. Bakers. The lastfourteen were called Lesser Arts; whoever was enrolled or matriculatedinto one of these was said to rank with the lesser (_andare per laminore_); and though there were in Florence many other trades thanthese, yet having no guild of their own they were associated to one orother of those that I have named. Each art had, as may still be seen, ahouse or mansion, large and noble, where they assembled, appointedofficers, and gave account of debit and credit to all the members of theguild. [2] In processions and other public assemblies the heads (for sothe chiefs of the several arts were called) had their place andprecedence in order. Moreover, these arts at first had each an ensignfor the defense, on occasion, of liberty with arms. Their origin waswhen the people in 1282 overcame the nobles (_Grandi_), and passed theOrdinances of Justice against them, whereby no nobleman could exerciseany magistracy; so that such of the patricians as desired to be able tohold office had to enter the ranks of the people, as did many greathouses of quality, and matriculate into one of the arts. Which thing, while it partly allayed the civil strife of Florence, almost whollyextinguished all noble feeling in the souls of the Florentines; and thepower and haughtiness of the city were no less abated than the insolenceand pride of the nobles, who since then have never lifted up their headsagain. These arts, the greater as well as the lesser, have varied innumbers at different times; and often have not only been rivals, buteven foes, among themselves; so much so that the lesser arts once got itpassed that the Gonfalonier should be appointed only from their body. Yet after long dispute it was finally settled that the Gonfalonier couldnot be chosen from the lesser, but that he should always rank with thegreater, and that in all other offices and magistracies, the lessershould always have a fourth and no more. Consequently, of the eightPriors, two were always of the lesser; of the Twelve, three; of theSixteen, four; and so on through all the magistracies. 

 [1] The name Calimala was given to a trade in cloth carried on at Florence by merchants who bought rough goods in France, Flanders, and England, and manufactured them into more delicate materials. 

 [2] Marco Foscari, quoted lower down, estimates the property the Arts at 200, 000 ducats. 

As a consequence from what has been said, it is easy to perceive thatall the inhabitants of Florence (by inhabitants I mean those only whoare really settled there, for of strangers, who are passing orsojourning a while, we need not here take any account) are of two sorts. The one class are liable to taxation in Florence, that is, they paytithes of their goods and are inscribed upon the books of the Commune, and these are called contributors. The others are not taxed norinscribed upon the registers of the Commune, inasmuch as they do not paythe tithes or other ordinary imposts; and these are callednon-contributors: who, seeing that they live by their hands, and carryon mechanical arts and the vilest trades, should be called plebeians;and though they have ruled Florence more than once, ought not even toentertain a thought about public affairs in a well-governed state. Thecontributors are of two sorts: for some, while they pay the taxes, donot enjoy the citizenship (_i. E. _ cannot attend the council or take anyoffice); either because none of their ancestors, and in particular theirfather or their grandfather, has sat or been passed for any of the threegreater magistracies; or else because they have not had themselvessubmitted to the scrutiny, [1] or, if they have advanced so far, have notbeen approved and nominated for office. These are indeed entitledcitizens: but he who knows what a citizen is really, knows also that, being unable to share either the honors or the advantages of the city, they are not truly citizens; therefore let us call them burghers, without franchise. Those again who pay taxes and enjoy the citizenship(whom we will therefore call enfranchised burghers) are in like mannerof two kinds. The one class, inscribed and matriculated into one of theseven first arts, are said to rank with the greater; whence we may callthem Burghers of the Greater: the others, inscribed and matriculatedinto the fourteen lesser arts, are said to rank with the lesser; whencewe may call them Burghers of the Lesser. This distinction had theRomans, but not for the same reason. 

_Varchi: Storia Fiorentina, lib. Ix. Chs. 48, 49, 46. _

As for natural abilities, I for my part cannot believe that any oneeither could or ought to doubt that the Florentines, even if they donot excel all other nations, are at least inferior to none in thosethings to which they give their minds. In trade, whereon of a truththeir city is founded, and wherein their industry is chiefly exercised, they ever have been and still are reckoned not less trusty and true thangreat and prudent: but besides trade, it is clear that the three mostnoble arts of painting, sculpture, and architecture have reached thatdegree of supreme excellence in which we find them now, chiefly by thetoil and by the skill of the Florentines, who have beautified andadorned not only their own city but also very many others, with greatglory and no small profit to themselves and to their country. And, seeing that the fear of being held a flatterer should not prevent mefrom testifying to the truth, though this will turn to the highest fameand honor of my lords and patrons, I say that all Italy, nay the wholeworld, owes it solely to the judgment and the generosity of the Medicithat Greek letters were not extinguished to the great injury of thehuman race, and that Latin literature was restored to the incalculableprofit of all men. 

 [1] For an explanation of _Squittino_ and _Squittinare_, see Nardi, p. 593 above. 

I am wholly of opinion opposed to that of some, who, because theFlorentines are merchants, hold them for neither noble norhigh-spirited, but for tame and low. [1] On the contrary, I have oftenwondered with myself how it could be that men who have been used fromtheir childhood upwards for a paltry profit to carry bales of wool andbaskets of silk like porters, and to stand like slaves all day and greatpart of the night at the loom, could summon, when and where was need, such greatness of soul, such high and haughty thoughts, that they havewit and heart to say and do those many noble things we know of them. Pondering on the causes of which, I find none truer than this, that theFlorentine climate, between the fine air of Arezzo and the thick air ofPisa, infuses into their breasts the temperament of which I spoke. Andwhoso shall well consider the nature and the ways of the Florentines, will find them born more apt to rule than to obey. Nor would it beeasily believed how much was gained for the youth of Florence by theinstitution of the militia; for whereas many of the young men, heedlessof the commonwealth and careless of themselves, used to spend all theday in idleness, hanging about places of public resort, girding at oneanother, or talking scandal of the passers by, they immediately, likebeasts by some benevolent Circe transformed again to men, gave all theirheart and soul, regardless of peril or loss, to gaining fame and honorfor themselves, and liberty and safety for their country. I do not bywhat I have been saying mean to deny that among the Florentines may befound men proud, ambitious, and greedy of gain; for vices will exist aslong as human nature lasts: nay, rather, the ungrateful, the envious, the malicious, and the evil-minded among them are so in the highestdegree, just as the virtuous are supremely virtuous. It is indeed acommon proverb that Florentine brains have no mean either way; the foolsare exceeding simple, and the wise exceeding prudent. 

 [1] Compare, however, Varchi, quoted above, p. 243. The Report of Marco Foscari, _Relazioni Venete_, series ii, vol. I. P. 9 et seq. , contains a remarkable estimate of the Florentine character. He attributes the timidity and weakness which he observes in the Florentines to their mercantile habits, and notices, precisely what Varchi here observes with admiration: 'li primi che governano lo stato vanno alle loro botteghe di seta, e gittati li lembi del mantello sopra le spalle, pongonsi alia caviglia e lavorano pubblicamente che ognuno li vede; ed i figliuoli loro stanno in bottega con li grembiuli dinanzi, e portano il sacco e le sporte alle maestre con la seta e fanno gli altri esercizi di bottega. ' A strong aristocratic prejudice transpires in every line. This report was written early in 1527. The events of the Siege must have surprised Marco Foscari. He notices among other things, as a source of weakness, the country villas which were all within a few months destroyed by their armies for the public good. 

Their mode of life is simple and frugal, but wonderfully and incrediblyclean and neat; and it may be said with truth that the artisans andhandicraftsmen live at Florence even better than the citizensthemselves: for whereas the former change from tavern to tavern, according as they find good wine, and only think of joyous living; thelatter in their homes, with the frugality of merchants, who for the mostpart make but do not spend money, or with the moderation of orderlyburghers, never exceed mediocrity. Nevertheless there are not wantingfamilies, who keep a splendid table and live like nobles, such as theAntinori, the Bartolini, the Tornabuoni, the Pazzi, the Borgherini, theGaddi, the Rucellai, and among the Salviati, Piero d'Alamanno andAlamanno d'Jacopo, and some others. At Florence every one is called byhis proper name or his surname; and the common usage, unless there besome marked distinction of rank or age, is to say _thou_ and not _you_;only to knights, doctors, and prebendaries is the title of _messere_allowed; to doctors that of _maestro_, to monks _don_, and to friars_padre_. True, however, is it that since there was a Court at Florence, first that of Giulio, the Cardinal de' Medici, then that of the Cardinalof Cortona, which enjoyed more license than the former, the manners ofthe city have become more refined--or shall I say more corrupt?

APPENDIX III. 

_The Character of Alexander VI. , from Guicciardini's Story, Fiorentina, cap. 27. _ See Chap. Vii. P. 412 above. 

So died Pope Alexander, at the height of glory and prosperity; aboutwhom it must be known that he was a man of the utmost power and of greatjudgment and spirit, as his actions and behavior showed. But as hisfirst accession to the Papacy was foul and shameful, seeing he hadbought with gold so high a station, in like manner his governmentdisagreed not with this base foundation. There were in him, and in fullmeasure, all vices both of flesh and spirit; nor could there be imaginedin the ordering of the Church a rule so bad but that he put it intoworking. He was most sensual toward both sexes, keeping publicly womenand boys, but more especially toward women; and so far did he exceed allmeasure that public opinion judged he knew Madonna Lucrezia, his owndaughter, toward whom he bore a most tender and boundless love. He wasexceedingly avaricious, not in keeping what he had acquired, but ingetting new wealth: and where he saw a way toward drawing money, he hadno respect whatever; in his days were sold as at auction all benefices, dispensations, pardons, bishoprics, cardinalships, and all courtdignities: unto which matters he had appointed two or three men privy tohis thought, exceeding prudent, who let them out to the highest bidder. He caused the death by poison of many cardinals and prelates, even berich in benefices and understood to have hoarded much, with the view ofseizing on their wealth. His cruelty was great, seeing that by hisdirection many were put to violent death; nor was the ingratitude lesswith which he caused the ruin of the Sforzeschi and Colonnesi, by whosefavor he acquired the Papacy. There was in him no religion, no keepingof his troth: he promised all things liberally, but stood to nought butwhat was useful to himself: no care for justice, since in his days Romewas like a den of thieves and murderers: his ambition was boundless, andsuch that it grew in the same measure as his state increased:nevertheless, his sins meeting with no due punishment in this world, hewas to the last of his days most prosperous. While young and stillalmost a boy, having Calixtus for his uncle, he was made Cardinal andthen Vice-Chancellor: in which high place he continued till his papacy, with great revenue, good fame, and peace. Having become Pope, he madeCesare, his bastard son and bishop of Pampeluna, a Cardinal, against theordinances and decrees of the Church, which forbid the making of abastard Cardinal even with the Pope's dispensation, wherefore he broughtproof by false witnesses that he was born in wedlock. Afterwards he madehim a layman and took away the Cardinal's dignity from him, and turnedhis mind to making a realm; wherein he fared far better than hepurposed, and beginning with Rome, after undoing the Orsini, Colonnesi, Savelli, and those barons who were wont to be held in fear by formerPopes, he was more full master of Rome than ever had been any Popebefore. With greatest ease he got the lordships of Romagna, the March, and the Duchy; and having made a most fair and powerful state, theFlorentines held him in much fear, the Venetians in jealousy, and theKing of France in esteem. Then having got together a fine army, heshowed how great was the might of a Pontiff when he hath a valiantgeneral and one in whom he can place faith. At last he grew to thatpoint that he was counted the balance in the war of France and Spain. Inone word he was more evil and more lucky than ever for many agesperadventure had been any pope before. 

APPENDIX IV. 

_Religious Revivals in Mediæval Italy. _ See Chap. Viii. P. 491 above. 

It would be unscientific to confound events of such European importanceas the foundation of the orders of S. Francis and S. Dominic with thephenomena in question. Still it may be remarked, that the sudden riseand the extraordinary ascendency of the mendicants and preachers weredue in a great measure to the sensitive and lively imagination of theItalians. The Popes of the first half of the thirteenth century wereshrewd enough to discern the political and ecclesiastical importance ofmovements which seemed at first to owe their force to mere fanaticalrevivalism. They calculated on the intensely excitable temperament ofthe Italian nation, and employed the Franciscans and Dominicans as theirmilitia in the crusade against the Empire and the heretics. Again, it isnecessary to distinguish what was essentially national from what wascommon to all Europeans in the Middle Ages. Every country had itswandering hordes of flagellants and penitents, its crusaders and itspilgrims. The vast unsettled populations of mediæval Europe, hauntedwith the recurrent instinct of migration, and nightmare-ridden byimperious religious yearnings, poured flood after flood of fanatics uponthe shores of Palestine. Half-naked savages roamed, dancing and groaningand scourging their flesh, from city to city, under the stress ofsemi-bestial impulses. Then came the period of organized pilgrimages. The celebrated shrines of Europe--Rome, Compostella, Monte Gargano, Canterbury--acted like lightning-conductors to the tempestuous devotionof the mediæval races, like setons to their over-charged imagination. Inall these universal movements the Italians had their share: being moreadvanced in civilization than the Northern peoples, they turned thecrusades to commercial count, and maintained some moderation in the_fakir_ fury of their piety. It is not, therefore, with the generalhistory of religious enthusiasm in the Middle Ages that we have to do, but rather with those intermittent manifestations of revivalism whichwere peculiar to the Italians. The chief points to be noticed are thepolitical influence acquired by monks in some of the Italian cities, thepreaching of peace and moral reformation, the panics or superstitiousterror which seized upon wide districts, and the personal ascendency ofhermits unaccredited by the Church, but believed by the people to bedivinely inspired. 

One of the most picturesque figures of the first half of the thirteenthcentury is the Dominican monk, John of Vicenza. His order, which hadrecently been founded, was already engaged in the work of persecution. France was reeking with the slaughter of the Albigenses, and the stakeswere smoking in the town of Milan, when this friar undertook the nobletask of pacifying Lombardy. Every town in the north of Italy was at thatperiod torn by the factions of the Guelfs and Ghibellines; private feudscrossed and intermingled with political discords; and the savage tyrannyof Ezzelino had shaken the fabric of society to its foundations. Itseemed utterly impossible to bring this people for a moment toagreement. Yet what popes and princes had failed to achieve, the voiceof a single friar accomplished. John of Vicenza began his preaching inBologna during the year 1233. The citizens and the country folk of thesurrounding districts flocked to hear him. It was noticed with especialwonder that soldiers of all descriptions yielded to the magic of hiseloquence. The themes of his discourse were invariably reconciliationand forgiveness of injuries. The heads of rival houses, who hadprosecuted hereditary feuds for generations, met before his pulpit, andswore to live thenceforth in amity. Even the magistrates entreated himto examine the statutes of their city, and to point out any alterationsby which the peace of the commonwealth might be assured. Having done hisbest for Bologna, John journeyed to Padua, where the fame of hissanctity had been already spread abroad. The _carroccio_ of the city, onwhich the standard of Padua floated, and which had led the burghers tomany a bloody battle, was sent out to meet him at Monselice, and heentered the gates in triumph. In Padua the same exhortations to peaceproduced the same results. Old enmities were abandoned, and hands wereclasped which had often been raised in fierce fraternal conflict. Treviso, Feltre, Beliuno, Conegliano, and Romano, the very nests of thegrim brood of Ezzelino, yielded to the charm. Verona, where the Scalaswere about to reign, Vicenza, Mantua, and Brescia, all placed themselvesat the disposition of the monk, and prayed him to reform theirconstitution. But it was not enough to restore peace to each separatecommunity, to reconcile household with household, and to efface themiseries of civil discord. John of Vicenza aimed at consolidating theLombard cities in one common bond. For this purpose he bade the burghersof all the towns where he had preached to meet him on the plain ofPaquara, in the country of Verona. The 28th of August was the day fixedfor this great national assembly. More than four hundred thousandpersons, according to the computation of Parisio di Cereta, appearedupon the scene. This multitude included the populations of Verona, Mantua, Brescia, Padua, and Vicenza, marshaled under their severalstandards, together with contingents furnished by Ferrara, Modena, Reggio, Parma, and Bologna. Nor was the assembly confined to the commonfolk. The bishops of these flourishing cities, the haughty Marquis ofEste, the fierce lord of Romano, and the Patriarch of Aquileia, obeyedthe invitation of the friar. There, on the banks of the Adige, andwithin sight of the Alps, John of Vicenza ascended a pulpit that hadbeen prepared for him, and preached a sermon on the text, _Pacem meam dovobis, pacem relinquo vobis_. The horrors of war, and the Christian dutyof reconciliation, formed the subject of his sermon, at the end of whichhe constrained the Lombards to ratify a solemn league of amity, vowingto eternal perdition all who should venture to break the same, andimprecating curses on their crops, their vines, their cattle, andeverything they had. Furthermore, he induced the Marquis of Este to takein marriage a daughter of Alberico da Romano. Up to this moment John ofVicenza had made a noble use of the strange power which he possessed. But his success seems to have turned his head. Instead of confininghimself to the work of pacification so well begun, he now demanded to bemade lord of Vicenza, with the titles of Duke and Count, and to receivethe supreme authority in Verona. The people, believing him to be asaint, readily acceded to his wishes; but one of the first things hedid, after altering the statutes of these burghs, was to burn sixtycitizens of Verona, whom he had himself condemned as heretics. ThePaduans revolted against his tyranny. Obliged to have recourse to arms, he was beaten and put in prison; and when he was released, at theintercession of the Pope, he found his wonderful prestigeannihilated. [1]

 [1] The most interesting accounts of Fra Giovanni da Vicenza are to be found in Muratori, vol. Viii. , in the Annals of Rolandini and Gerardus Maurisius. 

The position of Fra Jacopo del Bussolaro in Pavia differed from that ofFra Giovanni da Vicenza in Verona. Yet the commencement of his politicalauthority was very nearly the same. The son of a poor boxmaker of Pavia, he early took the habit of the Augustines, and acquired a reputation forsanctity by leading the austere life of a hermit. It happened in theyear 1356 that he was commissioned by the superiors of his order topreach the Lenten sermons to the people of Pavia. 'Then, ' to quoteMatteo Villani, 'it pleased God that this monk should make his sermonsso agreeable to every species of people, that the fame of them and thedevotion they inspired increased marvelously. And he, seeing theconcourse of the people, and the faith they bare him, began to denouncevice, and specially usury, revenge, and ill-behavior of women; andthereupon he began to speak against the disorderly lordship of thetyrants; and in a short time he brought the women to modest manners, andthe men to renunciation of usury and feuds. ' The only citizens of Paviawho resisted his eloquence were the Beccaria family, who at that timeruled Pavia like despots. His most animated denunciations were directedagainst their extortions and excesses. Therefore they sought to slayhim. But the people gave him a bodyguard, and at last he wrought sopowerfully with the burghers that they expelled the house of Beccariaand established a republican government. At this time the Visconti werelaying siege to Pavia: the passes of the Ticino and the Po were occupiedby Milanese troops, and the city was reduced to a state of blockade. Fra Jacopo assembled the able-bodied burghers, animated them by hiseloquence, and led them to the attack of their besiegers. They brokethrough the lines of the beleaguering camp, and re-established thefreedom of Pavia. What remained, however, of the Beccaria party passedover to the enemy, and threw the whole weight of their influence intothe scale of the Visconti: so that at the end of a three years' manfulconflict, Pavia was delivered to Galeazzo Visconti in 1359. Fra Jacopomade the best terms that he could for the city, and took no pains tosecure his own safety. He was consigned by the conquerors to thesuperiors of his order, and died in the dungeons of a convent atVercelli. In his case, the sanctity of an austere life, and theeloquence of an authoritative preacher of repentance, had been strictlysubordinated to political aims in the interests of republican liberty. Fra Jacopo deserves to rank with Savonarola: like Savonarola, he fell avictim to the selfish and immoral oppressors of his country. As in thecase of Savonarola, we can trace the connection which subsisted in Italybetween a high standard of morality and patriotic heroism. [1]

 [1] The best authorities for the life and actions of Fra Jacopo are Matteo Villani, bks. 8 and 9, and Peter Azarius, in his Chronicle (Groevius, vol. Ix. ). 

San Bernardino da Massa heads a long list of preachers, who, withouttaking a prominent part in contemporary politics, devoted all theirenergies to the moral regeneration of the people. His life, written byVespasiano da Bisticci, is one of the most valuable documents which wepossess for the religious history of Italy in the first half of thefifteenth century. His parents, who were people of good condition, senthim at an early age to study the Canon law at Siena. They designed himfor a lucrative and important office in the Church. But, while yet ayouth, he was seized with a profound conviction of the degradation ofhis countrymen. The sense of sin so weighed upon him that he sold allhis substance, entered the order of S. Francis, and began to preachagainst the vices which were flagrant in the great Italian cities. Aftertraveling through the length and breadth of the peninsula, and winningall men by the magic of his eloquence, he came to Florence. 'There, 'says Vespasiano, 'the Florentines being by nature very well disposedindeed to truth, he so dealt that he changed the whole State and gaveit, one may say, a second birth. And in order to abolish the false hairwhich the women wore, and games of chance, and other vanities, he causeda sort of large stall to be raised in the Piazza di Santa Croce, andbade every one who possessed any of these vanities to place them there;and so they did; and he set fire thereto and burned the whole. ' S. Bernardino preached unremittingly for forty-two years in every quarterof Italy, and died at last worn out with fatigue and sickness. 'Of manyenmities and deaths of men he wrought peace and removed deadly hatreds;and numberless princes, who harbored feuds to the death, he reconciled, and restored tranquillity to many cities and peoples. ' A vivid pictureof the method adopted by S. Bernardino in his dealings with these citiesis presented to us by Graziani, the chronicler of Perugia: 'On September23, 1425, a Sunday, there were, as far as we could reckon, upwards of3, 000 persons in the Cathedral. His sermon was from the SacredScripture, reproving men of every vice and sin, and teaching Christianliving. Then he began to rebuke the women for their paints andcosmetics, and false hair, and such like wanton customs; and in likemanner the men for their cards and dice-boards and masks and amuletsand charms: insomuch that within a fortnight the women sent all theirfalse hair and gewgaws to the Convent of S. Francis, and the men theirdice, cards, and such gear, to the amount of many loads. And on October29 Fra Bernardino collected all these devilish things on the piazza, where he erected a kind of wooden castle between the fountain and theBishop's palace; and in this he put all the said articles, and set fireto them; and the fire was so great that none durst go near; and in thefire were burned things of the greatest value, and so great was thehaste of men and women to escape that fire that many would have perishedbut for the quick aid of the burghers. ' Together with this onslaughtupon vanities, Fra Bernardino connected the preaching of peace andamity. It is noticeable that while his sermon lasted and the great bellof S. Lorenzo went on tolling, no man could be taken or imprisoned inthe city of Perugia. [1]

 [1] See Vespasiano, _Vite di Uomini Illustri, _ pp. 185-92. Graziani, _Archivio Storico, _ vol. Xvi. Part i. Pp. 313, 314. 

The same city was the scene of many similar displays. During thefifteenth century it remained in a state of the most miserable internaldiscord, owing to the feuds of its noble families. Graziani gives anaccount of the preaching there of Fra Jacopo della Marca, in 1445: onthis occasion a temporary truce was patched up between old enemies, awitch was burned for the edification of the burghers, the people werereproved for their extravagance in dress, and two peacemakers(_pacieri_) were appointed for each gate. On March 22, after undergoingthis discipline, the whole of Perugia seemed to have repented of itssins; but the first entry for April 15 is the murder of one of theRanieri family by another of the same house. So transitory were theeffects of such revivals. [1] Another entry in Graziani's _Chronicle_deserves to be noticed. He describes how, in 1448, Fra Roberto da Lecce(like S. Bernardino and Fra Jacopo della Marca, a Franciscan of theOrder of Observance) came to preach in January. He was only twenty-twoyears of age; but his fame was so great that he drew about 15, 000persons into the piazza to listen to him. The stone pulpit, we may sayin passing, is still shown, from which these sermons were delivered. Itis built into the wall of the Cathedral, and commands the whole square. Roberto da Lecce began by exhibiting a crucifix, which moved theaudience to tears; 'and the weeping and crying, _Jesu misericordia!_lasted about half an hour. Then he made four citizens be chosen for eachgate as peacemakers. ' What follows in Graziani is an account of atheatrical show, exhibited upon the steps of the Cathedral. On GoodFriday the friar assembled all the citizens, and preached; and when themoment came for the elevation of the crucifix, 'there issued forth fromSan Lorenzo Eliseo di Christoforo, a barber of the quarter of SantAngelo, like a naked Christ with the cross on his shoulder, and thecrown of thorns upon his head, and his flesh seemed to be bruised aswhen Christ was scourged. ' The people were immensely moved by thissight. They groaned and cried out, _'Misericordia!'_ and many monks weremade upon the spot. At last, on April 7, Fra Roberto took his leave ofthe Perugians, crying as he went, _'La pace sia con voi!'_[2] We have aglimpse of the same Fra Roberto da Lecce at Rome, in the year 1482. Thefeuds of the noble families della Croce and della Valle were then ragingin the streets of Rome. On the night of April 3 they fought a pitchedbattle in the neighborhood of the Pantheon, the factions of Orsini andColonna joining in the fray. Many of the combatants were left deadbefore the palaces of the Vallensi; the numbers of the wounded werevariously estimated; and all Rome seemed to be upon the verge of civilwar. Roberto da Lecce, who was drawing large congregations, not only ofthe common folk, but also of the Roman prelates, to his sermons at SantaMaria sopra Minerva, interrupted his discourse upon the followingFriday, and held before the people the image of their crucified Saviour, entreating them to make peace. As he pleaded with them, he wept; andthey too fell to weeping--fierce satellites of the rival factions andworldly prelates lifting up their voice in concert with the friar whohad touched their hearts. [3] Another member of the Franciscan Order ofObservance should be mentioned after Fra Roberto. This was Fra Giovannida Capistrano, of whose preaching at Brescia in 1451 we have received aminute account. He brought with him a great reputation for sanctity andeloquence, and for the miraculous cures which he had wrought. TheRectors of the city, together with 300 of the most distinguishedburghers upon horseback, and a crowd of well-born ladies on foot, wentout to meet him on February 9. Arrangements were made for theentertainment of himself and 100 followers, at public cost. Nextmorning, three hours before dawn, there were already assembled upwardsof 10, 000 people on the piazza, waiting for the preacher. 'Think, therefore, ' says the _Chronicle, _ 'how many there must have been in thedaytime! and mark this, that they came less to hear his sermon than tosee him. ' As he made his way through the throng, his frock was almosttorn to pieces on his back, everybody struggling to get a fragment. [4]

 [1] See Graziani, pp. 565-68. 

 [2] Graziani, pp, 597-601. 

 [3] See Jacobus Volaterranus. Muratori, xxiii. Pp. 126, 156, 167. 

 [4] See _Istoria Bresciana. _ Muratori, xxi. 865. 

It did not always need the interposition of a friar to arouse a strongreligious panic in Italian cities. After an unusually fierce bout ofdiscord the burghers themselves would often attempt to give the sanctionof solemn rites and vows before the altar to their temporary truces. Siena, which was always more disturbed by civil strife than any of herneighbors, offered a notable example of this custom in the year 1494. The factions of the Monti de' Nove and del Popolo had been raging; thecity was full of feud and suspicion, and all Italy was agitated by theFrench invasion. It seemed good, therefore, to the heads of the chiefparties that an oath of peace should be taken by the whole body of theburghers. Allegretti's account of the ceremony, which took place at deadof night in the beautiful Cathedral of Siena, is worthy to betranslated. 'The conditions of the peace were then read, which took upeight pages, together with an oath of the most horrible sort, full ofmaledictions, imprecations, excommunications, invocations of evil, renunciation of benefits temporal and spiritual, confiscation of goods, vows, and so many other woes that to hear it was a terror; _et etiam_that _in articulo mortis_ no sacrament should accrue to the salvation, but rather to the damnation of those who might break the saidconditions; insomuch that I, Allegretto di Nanni Allegretti, beingpresent, believe that never was made or heard a more awful and horribleoath. Then the notaries of the Nove and the Popolo, on either side ofthe altar, wrote down the names of all the citizens, who swore upon thecrucifix, for on each side there was one, and every couple of the oneand the other faction kissed; and the bells clashed, and _Te Deumlaudamus_ was sung with the organs and the choir while the oath wasbeing taken. All this happened between one and two hours of the night, with many torches lighted. Now may God will that this be peace indeed, and tranquillity for all citizens, whereof I doubt. '[1] The doubt ofAllegretti was but too reasonable. Siena profited little by thesedreadful oaths and terrifying functions. Two years later on, the samechronicler tells how it was believed that blood had rained outside thePorta a Laterino, and that various visions of saints and specters hadappeared to holy persons, proclaiming changes in the state, andcommanding a public demonstration of repentance. Each parish organized aprocession, and all in turn marched, some by day and some by night, singing Litanies, and beating and scourging themselves, to theCathedral, where they dedicated candles; and 'one ransomed prisoners, for an offering, and another dowered a girl in marriage. '

In Bologna in 1457 a similar revival took place on the occasion of anoutbreak of the plague. 'Flagellants went round the city, and when theycame to a cross, they all cried with a loud voice: _Misericordia!misericordia!_ For eight days there was a strict fast; the butchers shuttheir shops. ' What follows in the Chronicle is comic: 'Meretrices adconcubita nullum admittebant. Ex eis quâdam quæ cupiditate lucriadolescentem admiserat, deprehensâ, aliæ meretrices ita illius natesnudas corrigiis percusserunt, ut sanguinem emitteret. '[2] Ferraraexhibited a like devotion in 1496, on even a larger scale. About thistime the entire Italian nation was panic-stricken by the passage ofCharles VIII. , and by the changes in states and kingdoms whichSavonarola had predicted. The Ferrarese, to quote the language of theirchronicler, expected that 'in this year, throughout Italy, would be thegreatest famine, war, and want that had ever been since the worldbegan. ' Therefore they fasted, and 'the Duke of Ferrara fasted togetherwith the whole of his court. At the same time a proclamation was madeagainst swearing, games of hazard, and unlawful trades: and it wasenacted that the Jews should resume their obnoxious yellow gaberdinewith the O upon their breasts. In 1500 these edicts were repeated. Thecondition of Italy had grown worse and worse: it was necessary tobesiege the saints with still more energetic demonstrations. Therefore'the Duke Ercole d' Este, for good reasons to him known, _and because itis always well to be on good terms with God, _ ordained that processionsshould be made every third day in Ferrara, with the whole clergy, andabout 4, 000 children or more from twelve years of age upwards, dressedin white, and each holding a banner with a painted Jesus. His lordship, and his sons and brothers, followed this procession, namely the Duke onhorseback, because he could not then walk, and all the rest on foot, behind the Bishop. '[3] A certain amount of irony transpires in thisquotation, which would make one fancy that the chronicler suspected theDuke of ulterior, and perhaps political, motives. 

 [1] See Muratori, vol. Xxiii. P. 839. 

 [2] _Annales Bononienses. _ Mur. Xxiii. 890. 

 [3] _Diario Ferrarese. _ Mur. Xxiv. Pp. 17-386. 

It sometimes happened that the contagion of such devotion spread fromcity to city; on one occasion, in 1399, it traveled from Piedmontthrough the whole of Italy. The epidemic of flagellants, of whichGiovanni Villani speaks in 1310 (lib. Viii. Cap. 121), began also inPiedmont, and spread along the Genoese Riviera. The Florentineauthorities refused entrance to these fanatics into their territory. In1334, Villani mentions another outburst of the same devotion (lib xi. Cap. 23), which was excited by the preaching of Fra Venturino daBergamo. The penitents on this occasion wore for badge a dove with theolive-branch. They staid fifteen days in Florence, scourging themselvesbefore the altars of the Dominican churches, and feasting, five hundredat a time, in the Piazzi di S. M. Novella. Corio, in the _Storia diMilano_ (p. 281), gives an interesting account of these 'whitepenitents, ' as they were called, in the year 1399: 'Multitudes of men, women, girls, boys, small and great, townspeople and countryfolk, noblesand burghers, laity and clergy, with bare feet and dressed in whitesheets from head to foot, ' visited the towns and villages of everydistrict in succession. 'On their journey, when they came to across-road or to crosses, they threw themselves on the ground, crying_Misericordia_ three times; then they recited the Lord's Prayer and theAve Maria. On their entrance into a city, they walked singing _StabatMater dolorosa_ and other litanies and prayers. The population of theplaces to which they came were divided: for some went forth and toldthose who staid that they should assume the same habit, so that at onetime there were as many as 10, 000, and at another as many as 15, 000 ofthem. ' After admitting that the fruit of this devotion was in many casespenitence, amity, and alms-giving, Corio goes on to observe: 'However, men returned to a worse life than ever after it was over. ' It isnoticeable that Italy was devastated in 1400 by a horrible plague; andit is impossible not to believe that the crowding of so many penitentstogether on the highways and in the cities led to this result. 

During the anarchy of Italy between 1494--the date of the invasion ofCharles VIII. --and 1527--the date of the sack of Rome--the voice ofpreaching friars and hermits was often raised, and the effect was alwaysto drive the people to a frenzy of revivalistic piety. Milan was thecenter of the military operations of the French, the Swiss, theSpaniards, and the Germans. No city suffered more cruelly, and in nonewere fanatical prophets received with greater superstition. In 1516there appeared in Milan 'a layman, large of stature, gaunt, and beyondmeasure wild, without shoes, without shirt, bareheaded, with bristlyhair and beard, and so thin that he seemed another Julian the hermit. 'He lived on water and millet-seed, slept on the bare earth, refused almsof all sorts, and preached with wonderful authority. In spite of theopposition of the Archbishop and the Chapter, he chose the Duomo for histheater; and there he denounced the vices of the priests and monks tovast congregations of eager listeners. In a word, he engaged in openwarfare with the clergy on their own ground. But they of course provedtoo strong for him, and he was driven out of the city. He was a nativeof Siena, aged 30. [1] We may compare with this picturesque apparition ofJeronimo in Milan what Varchi says about the prophets who haunted Romelike birds of evil omen in the first years of the pontificate of ClementVII. 'Not only friars from the pulpit, but hermits on the piazza, wentabout preaching and predicting the ruin of Italy and the end of theworld with wild cries and threats. '[2] In 1523 Milan beheld thespectacle of a parody of the old preachers. There appeared a certainFrate di S. Marco, whom the people held for a saint, and who 'encouragedthe Milanese against the French, saying it was a merit with Jesus Christto slay those Frenchmen, and that they were pigs. ' He seems to havebeen a feeble and ignorant fellow, whose head had been turned by theexamples of Bussolaro and Savonarola. [3] Again, in 1529, we find acertain monk, Tommaso, of the order of S. Dominic, stirring up a greatcommotion of piety in Milan. The city had been brought to the verylowest state of misery by the Spanish occupation; and, strange to say, this friar was himself a Spaniard. In order to propitiate offendeddeities, he organized a procession on a great scale. 700 women, 500 men, and 2, 500 children assembled in the cathedral. The children were dressedin white, the men and women in sackcloth, and all were barefooted. Theypromenaded the streets of Milan, incessantly shouting _Misericordia!_and besieged the Duomo with the same dismal cry, the Bishop and theMunicipal authorities of Milan taking part in the devotion. [4] Thesegusts of penitential piety were matters of real national importance. Writers imbued with the classic spirit of the Renaissance thought themworthy of a place in their philosophical histories. Thus we find Pitti, in the _Storia Fiorentina (Arch. Stor. _ vol. I. P. 112), describing whathappened at Florence in 1514: 'There appeared in Santa Croce a FrateFrancesco da Montepulciano, very young, who rebuked vice with severity, and affirmed that God had willed to scourge Italy, especially Florenceand Rome, in sermons so terrible that the audience kept crying withfloods of tears, _Misericordia!_ The whole people were struck dumb withhorror, for those who could not hear the friar by reason of the crowd, listened with no less fear to the reports of others. At last he preacheda sermon so awful that the congregation stood like men who had losttheir senses; for he promised to reveal upon the third day how and fromwhat source he had received this prophecy. However, when he left thepulpit, worn out and exhausted, he was seized with an illness of thelungs, which soon put an end to his life. Pitti goes on to relate thefrenzy of revivalism excited by this monk's preaching, which had rousedall the old memories of Savonarola in Florence. It became necessary forthe Bishop to put down the devotion by special edicts, while the Mediciendeavored to distract the minds of the people by tournaments and publicshows. 

 [1] See Prato and Burigozzo, _Arch. Stor. _ vol. Iii. Pp. 357, 431. It is here worth noticing that Siena, the city of civil discord, was also the city of frenetic piety. The names of S. Caterina, S. Bernardino, and Bernardo Tolomei occur to the mind. 

 [2] _Storia Fiorintina, _ vol. I. P. 87. 

 [3] _Arch. Stor. _ vol. Iii. P. 443. 

 [4] Burigozzo, pp. 485-89. 

Enough has now been quoted from various original sources to illustratethe feverish recurrences of superstitious panics in Italy during theMiddle Ages and the Renaissance. It will be observed, from what has beensaid about John of Vicenza, Jacopo del Bussolaro, S. Bernardino, Robertoda Lecce, Giovanni della Marca, and Fra Capistrano, that Savonarola wasby no means an extraordinary phenomenon in Italian history. Combiningthe methods and the aims of all these men, and remaining within thesphere of their conceptions, he impressed a rôle, which had been oftenplayed in the chief Italian towns, with the stamp of his peculiargenius. It was a source of weakness to him in his combat with AlexanderVI. , that he could not rise above the monastic ideal of the prophetwhich prevailed in Italy, or grasp one of those regenerative conceptionswhich formed the motive force of the Reformation. The inherent defectsof all Italian revivals, spasmodic in their paroxysms, vehement whilethey lasted, but transient in their effects, are exhibited upon a tragicscale by Savonarola. What strikes us, after studying the records ofthese movements in Italy, is chiefly their want of true mental energy. The momentary effect produced in great cities like Florence, Milan, Verona, Pavia, Bologna, and Perugia is quite out of proportion to theslight intellectual power exerted by the prophet in each case. He hasnothing really new or life-giving to communicate. He preaches indeed theduty of repentance and charity, institutes a reform of glaring moralabuses, and works as forcibly as he can upon the imagination of hisaudience. But he sets no current of fresh thought in motion. Therefore, when his personal influence was once forgotten, he left no mark upon thenation he so deeply agitated. We can only wonder that, in many cases, heobtained so complete an ascendency in the political world. All this isas true of Savonarola as it is of S. Bernardino. It is this whichremoves him so immeasurably from Huss, from Wesley and from Luther. 

APPENDIX V. 

_The 'Sommario della Storia d'Italia dal_ 1511 _al_ 1527, '_ by FrancescoVettori. _[1]

I have reserved for special notice in this Appendix the short historywritten of the period between 1511 and 1527 by Francesco Vettori; notbecause I might not have made use of it in several of the previouschapters, but because it seemed to me that it was better to concentratein one place the illustrations of Machiavelli and Guicciardini which itsupplies. Francesco Vettori was born at Florence in 1474 of a familywhich had distinguished itself by giving many able public servants tothe Commonwealth. He adopted the politics of the Medicean party, remaining loyal to his aristocratic creed all through the troubloustimes which followed the French invasion of 1494, the sack of Prato in1512, the sack of Rome in 1527, and the murder of Duke Alessandro in1536. Even when he seemed to favor a republican policy, he continued insecret stanch to the family by whom he hoped to obtain honors andprivileges in the state. Like all the Ottimati, so furiously abused byPitti, Francesco Vettori found himself at last deceived in hisexpectations. To the Medici they sold the freedom of their native city, and in return for this unpatriotic loyalty they were condemned to exile, death, imprisonment, or frosty toleration by the prudent Cosimo. Twoyears after Cosimo had been made Duke, Vettori died, aged upwards ofsixty, without having shared in the prosperity of the princes to whoseservice he had consecrated his life and for whose sake he had helped toenslave Florence. To respect this species of fidelity, or to feel anypity for the men who were so cruelly disappointed of their selfishexpectations, is impossible. 

 [1] Printed in _Arch. Stor. It. _ Appendice No. 22, vol. Vl. 

Francesco Vettori held offices of importance on various occasions in theCommonwealth of Florence. In 1520, for example, he entered the Signory;and in 1521 he was Gonfalonier of Justice. Many years of his life werespent on foreign missions, as ambassador to the Emperor Maximilian, resident ambassador at the Courts of Julius and Leo, ambassador togetherwith Filippo Strozzi to the Court of Francis I. , and orator at Rome onthe election of Clement. He had therefore, like Machiavelli andGuicciardini, the best opportunities of forming a correct judgment ofthe men whose characters he weighed in his _Sommario_, and of obtaininga faithful account of the events which he related. He deserves a placeupon the muster-roll of literary statesmen mentioned by me in chapterV. ; nor should I have omitted him from the company of Segni and Varchi, had not his history been exclusively devoted to an earlier period thantheirs. At the same time he was an intimate friend both of Guicciardiniand Machiavelli. Some of the most precious compositions of the latterare letters addressed from Florence or San Casciano to FrancescoVettori, at the time when the ex-war-secretary was attempting to gainthe favor of the Medici. The clairvoyance and acuteness, the cynicalphilosophy of life, the definite judgment of men, the clearcomprehension of events, which we trace in Machiavelli, are to be foundin Vettori. Vettori, however, had none of Machiavelli's genius. What hewrites is, therefore, valuable as proving that the Machiavellianphilosophy was not peculiar to that great man, but was shared by manyinferior thinkers. Florentine culture at the end of the fifteenthcentury culminated in these statists of hard brain and stony hearts, whoonly saw the bad in human nature, but who were not led by cynicism orskepticism to lose their interest in the game of politics. 

In the dedication of the _Sommario della Storia d' Italia_ to FrancescoScarfi, Vettori says that he composed it at his villa, whither heretired in 1527. I do not purpose to extract portions of the historicalnarrative contained in this sketch; to do so indeed would be totranscribe the whole, so closely and succinctly is it written; butrather to quote the passages which throw a light upon the opinions ofMachiavelli and Guicciardini, or confirm the views of men and moralsadopted in my previous chapters. 

After touching on the sack of Prato and the consternation which ensuedin Florence, Vettori describes the return of the Medici in 1512. Giuliano, the son of Lorenzo, was the first to appear: after him camethe Cardinal Giovanni, and Giuliano's son Giulio. [1] The elder amongtheir partisans persuaded them to call a Parlamento and assume thegovernment in earnest. On September 16, accordingly, the Cardinal tookpossession of the palace, _fece pigliare il Palazzo_; the Signorysummoned the people into the piazza--a mere matter of form; a Balia offorty men was appointed; the Gonfalonier Ridolfi resigned; and the citywas reduced to the will and pleasure of the Cardinal de' Medici. Thenreasons sons Vettori:[2] 'This was what is called an absolute tyranny;yet, speaking of the things of this world without prejudice andaccording to the truth, I say that if it were possible to instituterepublics like that imagined by Plato, or feigned to exist in Utopia byThomas More, we might affirm they were not tyrannical governments: butall the commonwealths or kingdoms I have seen or read of, have, it seemsto me, a savor of tyranny. Nor is it a matter for astonishment thatparties and factions have often prevailed in Florence, and that one manhas arisen to make himself the chief, when we reflect that the city isvery populous, that many of the burghers desire to share in itsadvantages, and that there are few prizes to distribute: wherefore oneparty always must have the upper hand and enjoy the honors and benefitsof the state, while the other stands by to watch the game. ' He thenproceeds to criticise France, where the nobles alone bear arms and payno taxes, and where the administration of justice is slow and expensive;and Venice, where three thousand gentlemen keep more than 100, 000 of theinhabitants below their feet, unhonored, powerless, unprivileged, oppressed. Having demonstrated the elements of tyranny and injusticeboth in a kingdom and a commonwealth reputed prosperous and free, heshows that, according to his own philosophy, no blame attaches to aburgher who succeeds in usurping the sole mastery of a free state, provided he rule wisely; for all kingdoms were originally founded eitherby force or by craft. 'We ought not therefore to call that privatecitizen a tyrant who has usurped the government of his state, if he be agood man; nor again to call a man the real lord of a city who, though hehas the investiture of the Emperor, is bad and malevolent. ' Thiscritique of constitutions from the pen of a doctrinaire, who was also aman of experience, is interesting, partly for its positive frankness, and partly as showing what elementary notions still prevailed about thepurposes of government. Vettori's ultimate criterion is the personalquality of the ambitious ruler. 

 [1] Giovanni and Giulio were afterwards Leo X. And Clement VII. 

 [2] P. 293. 

Passing to what he says about Leo X. , [1] it is worth while to note thathe attributes his election chiefly to the impression produced upon theCardinals by Alexander and Julius. 'During the reign of two fierce andpowerful Pontiffs, Cardinals had been put to death, imprisoned, deprivedof their property, exiled, and kept in continual alarm; and so great wasthe dread among them now of electing another such Pope, that theyunanimously chose Giovanni de' Medici. Up to that time he had alwaysshown himself liberal and easy, or, rather, prodigal in squandering thelittle that he owned; he had moreover managed so to dissemble as toacquire a reputation for most excellent habits of life. ' Vettori addsthat his power in Florence helped him, and that he owed much to theability displayed by Bernardo da Bibbiena in winning votes. The joy ofthe Florentines at his election is attributed to mean motives: 'beingall of them given over to commerce and gain, they thought they ought toget some profit from this Papacy. '[2]

The government which Lorenzo, afterwards Duke of Urbino, now establishedin Florence is very favorably described by Vettori. [3] 'Lorenzo, thoughstill a young man, applied himself with great attention to the businessof the city, providing that equal justice should be administered to all, that the public moneys should be levied and spent with frugality, andthat disputes should be settled to the satisfaction of all parties. Hisrule was tolerated, because, while the revenues were large and theexpenses small, the citizens were not troubled with taxes; and this isthe chief way to please a people, seeing their affection for a prince ismeasured by the good they get from him. Taking this opinion of Lorenzo, it is possible for Vettori in another place to say of him that 'hegoverned Florence like a citizen;'[4] and on the occasion of his deathin 1520, he passes what amounts to a panegyric on his character. 'Hisdeath was a misfortune for Florence, which it would be difficult todescribe. Though young, he had the qualities of virtuous maturity. Hebore a real affection toward the citizens, was parsimonious of themoneys of the Commune, prodigal of his own; while a foe to vice, he wasnot too severe on those who erred. Though he began his military life attwenty-three, he always bore the cuirass of a man at arms upon hisshoulders day and night on active service. He slept very little, wassober in his diet, temperate in love. The Florentines did not love him, because it is not possible for men used to freedom to love a ruler; buthe, for his part, had not sought the office which was thrust upon him bythe will of others. Madonna Alfonsina, his mother, brought unpopularityupon him; for she was avaricious, and the Florentines, who noticed everydetail, thought her grasping: and though he wanted to restrain her, hefound himself unable to do so through the high esteem in which he heldher. Maddalena, his wife, died six days before him, after giving birthto a daughter Catherine. ' This is the, no doubt, highly favorableportrait of the man to whom Machiavelli dedicated his _Principe_. Thesomewhat negative good qualities of Lorenzo, his prudence and parsimony, his freedom from despotic ambition, and dislike of dangerous service, combined with his deference to the powerful members of his own family, are very unlike Machiavelli's ideal of the founder of a state. CesareBorgia was almost the exact opposite. The impression produced byVettori's panegyric is further confirmed by what he says aboutLorenzo's disinclination to undertake the Duchy of Urbino. [5]

 [1] P. 297. 

 [2] P. 300. 

 [3] Ibid. 

 [4] P. 306. 

 [5] P. 321. See too p. 307. 

But to return to the early days of Leo's pontificate. Vettori marks hisinterference in the affairs of Lucca as the first great mistake hemade. [1] His advisers in Florence had not reflected 'what infamy itwould bring upon the Pope in the opinion of all men, or what suspicionit would rouse among the princes, if in the first months of his power hewere led to sanction an attack by the Florentines upon the Lucchese, their neighbors and allies. How too could the burghers of Florence, whohad urged him to this step, remind the pontiff that he ought to moderatehis desire of gaining dominion for the Church and for his kin, by theexample of former Popes, all of whom, in the interest of theirdependents, had acquired to their own dishonor with peril and expensewhat in a few days upon their death returned to the old and rightfulowners?' The conduct of Leo with regard to Lucca, his policy inFlorence, and the splendor maintained by his brother at Rome, did infact rouse the jealousy of the Italian powers both great and small. [2]'King Ferdinand remarked: If Giuliano has left Florence, he must beaiming at something better, which can be nothing but the realm ofNaples. The Dukes of Milan, Ferrara, and Urbino said the same. TheSienese thought: If the pope allows the Florentines to attack Lucca, which is so strong, well furnished, and harmonious, far more will heconsent to their encroaching upon us, who are weak, ill-provided, and atodds among ourselves. The Duke of Ferrara had further reasons fordiscontent in respect to Modena and Reggio. ' Altogether, Leo began tolose credit. Secret alliances were formed against him by the dellaRovere, the Baglioni, and the Petrucci; and though he took care toattend public services and to fast more than etiquette required, nobodybelieved in him. Vettori's comment reads like an echo of Machiavelli andGuicciardini. [3] 'Assuredly it is most difficult to combine temporallordship with a reputation for religion: for they are two things whichwill not harmonize. He who well considers the law of the Gospel willobserve that the pontiffs, though called Christ's Vicars, haveoriginated a new religion unlike that of Christ except in name. Hisenjoins poverty; they desire riches. He preached humility; they followafter pride. He commanded obedience; they aim at universal sovereignty. I could enlarge upon their other vices; but it is enough to allude tothese, without entering into inconvenient discourses. ' While treating ofthe affairs of Urbino, [4] however, Vettori remarks that Leo could nothave done otherwise than punish Francesco Maria della Rovere, if hewished to maintain the Papacy at the height of reputation to which ithad been raised by his predecessors. 

 [1] P. 301. 

 [2] P. 303. 

 [3] P. 304. 

 [4] P. 319. 

In his general estimate of Leo, Vettori confirms all that we know aboutthis Pope from other sources. He insists more perhaps than otherhistorians upon the able diplomacy by which Lodovico Canossa, Bishop ofTricarico, made terms with Francis after Marignano, [1] and traces Leo'sfatal alliance with Charles V. In 1520 to the influence of JeronimoAdorno. [2] The secret springs of Leo's conduct, when he was vainlyendeavoring to steer to his own profit between the great rivals forpower in Europe, are exposed with admirable precision at both of thesepoints. Of the prodigality which helped to ruin this Pope, and whichmade his two successors impotent, he speaks with sneering sarcasm. 'Itwas as easy for him to keep 1, 000 ducats together as for a stone to flyinto the air by its own weight. '[3] When the news of the capture ofMilan reached him on November 27, 1520, Leo was at the Villa Magliana inthe neighborhood of Rome. [4] Whether he took cold at a window, orwhether his anxiety and jealousy disturbed his constitution, Vettoriremains uncertain. At any rate, he was attacked with fever, returned toRome, and died. 'It was said that his death was caused by poison; butthese stories are always circulated about men of high estate, especiallywhen they succumb to acute disease. Those, however, who knew theconstitution and physical conformation of Leo, and his habits of life, will rather wonder that he lived so long. ' After summing up thevicissitudes of his career and passing a critique upon his vacillatingpolicy, Vettori resumes:[5] 'while on the one hand he would fain havenever had one care to trouble him; on the other he was desirous of fameand sought to aggrandize his kindred. Fortune, to rid him of thisambition, removed his brother and his nephew in his lifetime. Lastly, when he had engaged in a war against the King of France, in which, if hewon, he lost, and was going to meet obvious ruin, fortune removed himfrom the world so that he might not see his own mischance. In hispontificate at Rome there was no plague, no poverty, no war. Letters andthe arts flourished, and the vices were also at their height. Alexanderand Julius had been wont to seize the inheritance not only of theprelates but of every little priest or clerk who died in Rome. Leoabstained entirely from such practices. Therefore people came in crowds;and it may be said for certain that in the eight years of his papacy, the population of Rome increased by one third. ' Vettori prudentlyrefuses to sum up the good and bad of Leo's character in one decisivesentence. He notes, however, that he was blamed for not keeping to hisword: 'it was a favorite expression with him, that princes ought to givesuch answers as would send petitioners away satisfied; accordingly hemade so many promises; and fed people with such great expectations, thatit became impossible to please them. '

 [1] P. 313. 

 [2] P. 334. 

 [3] P. 322. 

 [4] P. 338. 

 [5] P. 339. 

The election of Adrian is attributed by Vettori to the mutual hatred andjealousy of the Cardinals. [1] He ascribes the loss of Rhodes to thePope's want of interest in great affairs, adds his testimony to hisprivate excellence and public incapacity, and dismisses him withoutfurther notice. [2]

 [1] P. 341. 

 [2] Pp. 343, 347. 

What he tells us about Clement is more interesting. In the dedication tothe _Sommario_ he apologized in express terms for the high opinionrecorded of this Pope. Yet the impression which he leaves upon our mindby what he writes is so unfavorable as to make it clear what Clement'sfoes habitually said against him. He remarks, as one excuse for hisill-success in office, that he succeeded to a Papacy ruined by theprodigality in war and peace of Leo. [1] As knight of Rhodes, as governorof Florence, and as Cardinal, Clement had shown himself an able man. Fortune heaped her favors on him then. As soon as he was made Pope, sheveered round. 'From a puissant and respected Cardinal, he became afeeble and discredited Pope. ' His first care was to provide for thegovernment of Florence. In order to arrive at a decision, he askedcouncil of the Florentine orators and four other noble burghers then inRome, as to whether he could advantageously intrust the city to theCardinal of Cortona in guardianship over Ippolito and Alessandro, theyoung bastards of the Medici. [2] 'All men nearly, ' says Vettori, 'areflatterers, and say what they believe will please great folk, althoughthey think the contrary. Of the thirteen whom the Pope consulted, tenadvised him to send Ippolito to Florence under the guardianship of theCardinal of Cortona. ' The remaining three, who were Ruberto Acciajuoli, Lorenzo Strozzi, and Francesco Vettori, pointed out the impropriety ofadministering a free city through a priest who held his title from asubject town. They recommended the appointment of a Gonfalonier for oneyear, and so on, till a member of the Medicean family could take thelead. Clement, however, decided on the other course; and to this causemay be traced half the troubles of his reign. 

 [1] P. 348. 

 [2] P. 349. They were 14 and 13 years of age respectively. 

The greater part of what remains of the _Sommario_ is occupied with thewars and intrigues of Francis, Charles, and Clement. Vettori, it may besaid in passing, records a very unfavorable opinion of the Marquis ofPescara, who was, he hints, guilty of first turning a favorable ear toMoroni's plot and then of discovering the whole to his master. [1] A fewdays after his breach of faith with the Milanese, he fell ill and died. 'He was a man whose military excellence cannot be denied; but proudbeyond all measure, envious, ungrateful, avaricious, venomous, cruel, without religion or humanity, he was born to be the ruin of Italy; andit may be truly said that of the evil she has suffered and stillsuffers, a large part was caused by him. '

 [1] Pp. 358, 359. 

Of the breach of faith of Francis, after he had left his Spanish prison, Vettori speaks in terms of the very highest commendation. [1] His refusalto cede Burgundy to Charles was just and patriotic. That he broke hisfaith was no crime; for, though a man ought rather to die than forswearhimself, yet his first duty is to God, his second to his country, Francis was clearly acting for the benefit of his kingdom; and had henot left his two sons as hostages in Spain? The whole defense is a goodpiece of specious pleading, and might be used to illustrate the chapteron the Faith of Princes in the _Principe_. 

 [1] P. 362. 

By far the most striking passage in Vettori's _Sommario_ is thedescription of the march of Frundsberg's and De Bourbon's army uponRome. [1] He makes it clear to what extent the calamity of the sack wasdue to the selfishness and cowardice of the Italian princes. First ofall the Venetians refused to offer any obstacles before the passage ofthe Po, feeling that by doing so they might draw trouble on their ownprovinces. Then the Duke of Ferrara supplied the Lutherans withartillery, of which they hitherto had stood in need. The first use theymade of their fire-arms was to shoot the best captain in Italy, Giovannide' Medici of the Black Bands. The Duke of Urbino, the Marquis ofSaluzzo, and Guido Rangoni watched them cross the river and proceed byeasy stages through the district of Piacenza, 'following them likelacqueys waiting on their lords. ' The same thing happened at Parma andModena, while the Duke of Ferrara kept supplying the foreigners withfood and money. Clement meanwhile was penniless in Rome. Rich as thecity was, he had so utterly lost credit that he dared not ask for loans, and was so feeble that he could not rob. The Colonnesi, moreover, whohad recently plundered the Vatican, kept him in a state of terror. Asthe invaders, now commanded by the Constable de Bourbon, approachedTuscany, the youth of Florence demanded to be armed in defense of theirhearths and homes. The Cardinal of Cortona, fearing a popular rising, refused to grant their request. A riot broke out, and the Medici werethreatened with expulsion: but by the aid of influential citizens arevolution was averted. The Constable, avoiding Florence and Siena, marched straight on Rome, still watched but unmolested by the armies ofthe League. He left his artillery on the road, and, as is well known, carried the walls of Rome by assault on the morning of May 3, dyinghimself at the moment of victory. From what has just been rapidlynarrated, it will be seen how utterly abject was the whole of Italy atthis moment, when a band of ruffians, headed by a rebel from hissovereign, in disobedience to the viceroy of the king he pretended toserve, was not only allowed but actually helped to traverse rivers, plains, and mountains, on their way to Rome. What happened after thecapture of the Transteverine part of the city moves even deeper scorn. 'It still remained for the Imperial troops to enter the populous andwealthy quarters; and these they had to reach by one of three bridges. They numbered hardly more than 25, 000 men, all told. In Rome were atleast 30, 000 men fit to bear arms between the ages of sixteen and fifty, and among them were many trained soldiers, besides crowds of Romans, swaggering braggarts used to daily quarrels, with beards upon theirbreasts. Nevertheless, it was found impossible to get 500 together inone band for the defense of one of the three bridges. ' What immediatelyfollows gives so striking a picture of the sack: that a translation ofit will form a fit conclusion to this volume. 'The soldiers slew atpleasure; pillaged the houses of the middle classes and small folk, thepalaces of the nobles, the convents of both sexes, and the churches. They made prisoners of men, women, and even of little children, withoutregard to age, or vows, or any other claim on pity. The slaughter wasnot great, for men rarely kill those who offer no resistance: but thebooty was incalculable, in coin, jewels, gold and silver plate, clothes, tapestries, furniture, and goods of all descriptions. To thisshould be added the ransoms, which amounted to a sum that, if set down, would win no credence. Let any one consider through how many years themoney of all Christendom had been flowing into Rome, and staying therein a great measure; let him remember the Cardinals, Bishops, Prelates, and public officers, the wealthy merchants, both Roman and foreign, selling at high prices, letting their houses at dear rents, and payingnothing in the way of taxes; let him call to mind the artisans, thepoorer folk, the prostitutes; and he will judge that never was a citysacked of which the memory remains, whence greater store of treasurecould be drawn. Though Rome has at other times been taken and pillaged, yet never before was it the Rome of our days. Moreover, the sack lastedso long that what might not perhaps have been discovered on the firstday sooner or later came to light. This disaster was an example to theworld that men proud, avaricious, envious, murderous, lustful, hypocritical, cannot long preserve their state. Nor can it be deniedthat the inhabitants of Rome, especially the Romans, were stained withall these vices, and with many greater. '

[1] Pp. 372-82. 

INDEX

A

Abelard, 9. Adrian VI. , 441. Agrippa quoted, 459. Ahmed, 589. Albigenses, 9. Aldi, the, 23. Aleander, 27. Alexander VI. , 406, 407 _seq. _. , 603; death, 430 (see Papacy). Alfonso I. Of Naples, 568. Alfonso II. , 119, 572. Allegre, 418, Allegretti, works, 292; cited, 165; quoted, 616America, effects of its discovery, 540. Ammanati, works, 489. Anjou, house of, transfers its claims to Sicily, 539. Appiani, 148. Ariosto, works, 119; cited, 413; quoted, 130Aristotle, influence of his writings, 197; quoted, 234, 235. Art in Middle Age, 17; effect of religious conventionalism, 18; revolution made by Renaissance, 18, 19. Italian, inimical to ugliness, 490; flourishes under despots, 79. Ascham, R. , quoted, 472. 

B

Bacon, Francis, 26; Roger, 9, 10. Baglioni, 122, 148. Barbiano, 159. Bartoli, A. , cited, 252. Beccadelli, 174. Bellini, works, 488. Bentivogli, 102, 115, 123. Bergamo, V. Da, 618. Bernard, St. , 13. Berni cited, 443. Bibbiena, 184; quoted, 190. Bible, discovery of the original, 20. Blood-madness, 109, 589 _seq. _Boccaccio, 11, 20. Boiado, 171. Bologna, 123, 617. Boniface VIII. , 76. Borgia, Cesare, 117, 324, 345 _seq. _, 426, 577; murders, 352. Borgia, Lucrezia, 419; character cleared of calumny, 420. Borgia, Roderigo (see Alexander VI). Boscoli, P. P. , 466. Bracciolini, P. , 274. Brantôme quoted, 117. Brescia, 615; Arnold of, 64. Browning, R. , quoted, 13. Bruni, L. , 274. Buonarottí, 491; works, 19. Burchard cited, 430, 431. Burckhardt cited, 428; quoted, 434. Burton, Robert, cited, 475. Bussolaro, J. Del, 610. Byzantine empire, effect of its fall, 14

C

Capistrano, G. Da, 615. Capponi, P. , 284, 563. Carducci, 284, 289; works, 293. Carmagnuola, F. , 161. "Carmina Burana, " 9. Carrara, 149. Carroccio, 58. Castiglione, works, 183, 457. Catholic Church (see Papacy). Support of Church required by good society, 455; philosophy and theology fused, 456; religion divorced from morality, 462, 493; influence of ancient literature, 464; æstheticism, 465; humanism antagonistic to Christianity, 493; its corruption, 448 _seq. _; not universal, 470; immorality of priests, 458, 459; superstition, 466; relics, 461; sanctity of pope, 462; power of forms, 471; counter-reformation, 25; power of ecclesiastical eloquence, 491; revivals, 490, 606 _seq_. ; indestructable vigor of religious faith, 469. Cellini, B. , 104, 462, 492; memoirs, 325. Charles VIII. (see Italy, history), 540 _seq_. ; escape, 580. Charles of Anjou, 75. Charles the Great, 50. Chivalry, 483. Christianity (see Catholic Church, Morals), influence in forming modern society, 7; how affected by Renaissance, 25. Clement VII. , 443, 633. Colonnesi, 375. Columbus, 15. Comines cited, 416; quoted, 214, 475, 541, 553, 572, 578. Condottieri, 86, 113, 131, 156 _seq_. ; 245, 361; character of warfare, 102, 363. Compagni, Dino, chronicle of, 262; its authenticity, 266 _seq_. Copernicus, 15. Corio, works, 292; quoted, 135, 143, 145, 152. 160, 385, 391, 392, 619. Coryat, T. , quoted, 475. Croce, della, 614. Cromwell, 454. Cruelty (see Blood-madness), instances of, 151, 478, 571; of French, 557, 583; its use, 354. Crusades, 7. 

D

Dante, political views, 261; works, 10, 11, 73, 260; quoted, 73, 76, 77, 133. Democratic idea, its gradual growth, 8. Dennistoun cited, 160. Descartes, 26. Djem, 415, 566, 576. Dürer, works, 490; cited, 475. 

E

Erasmus, 24, 27. Este, house of, 395, 420; Nicolo, 168. 

F

Fanfoni, P. , cited, 263, 268. Feltre, V. Da, 171, 176. Ferdinand of Arragon, 296, 358; of Naples, 570. Ferrara, 499, 617; court, 423. Ficino, 175, 456. Fiesole, G. Da, Works, 488. Filelfo, 171; quoted, 381. Flora, Joachim of, 9. Florence, its constitution, 195, 201, 592, 596, 598; number of citizens, 598; parties, 211; perpetual flux, 221; government by merchants, 225; the "parlamento, " 230; cause of failure of popular government, 231; population, 256; the "arti, " 597; militia, its value, 601; Machiavelli's reforms, 312; revenues, 255; topography, 595; history (see Italy), rule of the Medici, 277, 305, 629, years 1527-31, 282; recovers liberty through the French, 560; occupation, 562; commonwealth, 282; divisions of popular party, 283; siege, 285; effect of Savonarola's prophecies, 290; Pazzi conspiracy, 398; final subjugation, 446; character of its historians, 248 _seq_. , 274. 

 Society, character of people, 600; their enlightenment and immorality, 504; absence of religious faith, 295; excess of intellectual mobility, 237; commercial character, 238; social life, 242. A city of intelligence, 232, 246. Fondulo, G. , 463. Ford, J. , cited, 477. Foscari, F. , 215; quoted, 600. Francia, works, 489. Frattcelli, 9. Frederick I. , 63. Frederick II. , 10, 68, 105. Froben, J. , 23. 

G

Gambacorta, 147. Gemistos Plethon, 173. Genezzano, 506, 522. Genoa, 79; history, 201. Giacomini, 313. Giannotti cited, 217; quoted, 169, 196, 216, 238, 278, 280. Giotto, works, 488. Giovio, quoted, 249. God, medieval idea of, 16. Gonzaghi, 146. Government, Guicciardini's theories, 305. [See Machiavelli. ]Graziani quoted, 614. Greek, knowledge of, in Renaissance, 182. Greene, R. , quoted, 473. Gregorovius cited, 421, 430, 479, . Guarino, 171. Guarnieri, 158. Guelphs and Ghibeliines, 69, 206. Guicciardini, 278, 280, 285, 295, 482; works, 291, 294, 301 _seq_. ; political theories analyzed, 304 _seq_. ; quoted, 44, 91, 92, 119, 169, 223, 284, 404, 409, 412, 417, 431, 434, 451, 536. 541. 547, 549, 582, 583, 603. 

H

Hawkwood, J. , 113. Hegel quoted, 367. Hegel, C, cited, 252. Heribert, 58. Hildebrand, 59. Hirsch cited, 567. Hogarth, works, 490. Howell cited, 473. Hussites, 9. Hutten, 27. 

I

Infessura, works, 292; cited, 405; quoted, 395, 404, 474, Innocent VIII. , 403. Inquisition in Spain, 399. Inventions of Renaissance, 29. Italy, history (see Condottieri, Papacy), its character, 32; papacy and empire, 33, 41, 43, 94, 97, 99; variety of governments, 35, 43; their influence on national development, 44; politics, 36; invasions, 39; want of historical continuity, 41; the despotisms, 42; origin of modern history, 46; the Lombards, 48; Charles the Great, 51; Berengar, 52; Otho I. , 52; growth of power of Church, 53; Frederick I. , 63; Charles of Anjou, 75; convulsions of 14th century, 81; states of 15th century, 88; obstacles to unity, 89; to monarchy, 92; to federalism, 95; in time of Machiavelli, 365; policy of Lorenzo, 543; equilibrium destroyed, 545; French invasion, 549; character of their army, 565; league against them, 576; cause of their failure, 340; effect of their example, 583; on other nations, 585; Charles V. , 98. 

 Italians incapable of helping themselves, 586; responsible for their despots, 115; development precocious and unsound, 495; fatal effects of want of union, 538, 552. 

 _The Republics_, character of their history, 33, 193; beginning of the power of the cities, 53; their origin, 54; count and bishop, 55; "people, " 55; commune, 56; consuls, 56; effect of struggle of papacy and empire, 61; influence of latter, 198; Guelphs and Ghibeliines, 69, 80, 206; wars of cities, 62; Frederic I. , 64; struggle with nobles, 66; the podesta, 67; "captain of the people, " 71; the "arti, " 72; distinction between parties, 74; not representative governments, 196; not democratic, 195; factions, 195, 210; small number of active citizens, 209; temporal character of alliances, 212. 

 _The Despotisms_, 42, 76; their justification, 83; idea of liberty, 78; republican freedom unknown, 91; policy commercial, 85; taxation, 86; diplomacy substituted for warfare, 87; illegitimacy, 102; good government, 103; bad effect of their example, 104; courts, 106, 186; varieties of despotisms, 109; claims of despots due to force, not rank, 116; their democratic character, 117; uncertainty of tenure of power, 117, 129; domestic crime, 119; murders, 120; tastes and pursuits, 126; degeneracy of their houses, 126, 151; bad effects of rule, 130; centralizing tendencies, 131; cruelty, 151; absence of all morality, 168. 

 _Society_. Why Italy took the lead in the Renaissance, 5; Italians gentle and humane, 478; not gluttons, 479; personal originality not discouraged, 488; Italy originates type of gentleman, 192; courtiers, idea of nobility, 186; community of interest with that of Roman Church, 470; immorality not great relatively, 487; superiority to their contemporaries, 489; purity of their art shows that heart of the people was not vitiated, 488; commercial integrity, 474; demoralization of society, 472; immorality came from above, 489; commonness of crime, 170, 480; exceptions to rule, 183; murders, 480; deficiency in sense of honor, 481; chastity in women, 486; unnatural passions, 477; charms of illicit love, 476; immoral literature, 475. Literature, early, 53. 

J

Jews, expulsion from Spain, 400. Julia, daughter of Claudius, 22, 23. Julius II. , 389, 406, 432 seq. 

L

Lecce, Roberto da, 614. Leo X. , 435, 630. Libraries of Renaissance, 21. Locke, J. , 26. Lombards, 48 seq. London, mediæval, 137. Louis XII. , 339. Luini, works, 489. Lungo, del, cited, 273. Luther, 26, 442, 454, 530. 

M

Macaulay on the despots, 127, 320. Machiavelli, 232, 278, 308 seq. ; property, 309; education, 310; political career, 311; cringing character, 317; intercourse with Cesare Borgia, 347; compared with Savonarola, 368; last years, 328; death, 333. Works, 76, 169, 203, 249, 332, 369, 457, 494; military system, 312; Art of War, 328; History, 331; The Prince, 319; object in writing it, 321; appeal to the Medici, 366; apology for the author, 367; morality of the work, 324-6; author's sincerity, 333; not the inventor of Machiavellianism, 335; it assumes Reparation of statecraft and morality, 335; an abstract of political expediency, 336; how permanently to assimilate provinces, 338; colonies, 338; founders of monarchies, 343; distinction between monarch and despot, 341; use of cruelty, 354; value of distrust, 358; military precautions, 360; the work condemned by the Inquisition, 336; opinion of it in France, 326; quoted, 45, 82, 84, 96, 98, 115, 116, 146, 152, 187, 202, 214, 215, 245, 325, 447, 450, 453, 460. Madonna, conventional idea of, 18. Malatesta, 172. Malespini, chronicle, 251. Mantegna, works, 489. Mantuanus, B. , quoted, 394. Marlowe quoted, 336. Marston, cited, 473, 475. Massa, B. Da, 611. Masuccio quoted, 458, 486. Matarazzo, works, 292; quoted, 583. Medici, their policy, 87, 90, 128, 155, 228, 230; expulsion, 222; connection with papacy, 404; services to literature, 600. Alessandro, 298; Cosimo, 300, 492; Lorenzo, 504, 628; death, 523; Piero, 558. Michelet quoted, 15, 585. Middle Age: mental condition, 6, 13; inaccessibility to mental ideas, 7; political character, 8; art, 17; scholarship, 20. Milan, 58; Visconti and Sforza, 154. Milman quoted, 530. Milton, 454. Mirandola, 171, 456, 520; quoted, 401, 511. Monaldeschi, L. B. , 252. Montferrat, 146. Montone, B. Da, 123, 159. Morals (see Italy, society; Papacy, court; Virtu;) in Cellini's memoirs, 325; sexual immorality, 474; tyrannicide defended, 468. Müntz, E. , cited, 384. Muzio quoted, 174. 

N

Naples (see Italy), attraction for foreigners, 566; claims of house of Anjou, 539; flight of king, 574. Nardi, 278, 280, 290; works, 291; quoted, 292, 511, 534, 592. Nerli, 278, 290; works, 293 seq. ; quoted, 328. Nicholas V. , 378. Normans In Italy, 58. 

O

Olgiati, 166. Orsini, 375. Otho 1. , 52. 

P

Pamponazzo, 456. Pandolfini, 239; works, 241. Papacy (see Catholic Church), "the ghost of the Roman empire, " 6; church and state, 8; Charles the Great, 51; imperial nominees, 59; change in mode of election, 60; effect of crushing the Hohenstauffen, 101; nepotism, 114; authority in 14th century, 371, 375; secularization, 371, 375; temporal power, 376; its consolidation, 378; its extent, 434; persecution, 402; of Platonists, 417; its effect, 418; plan to transform Papacy to kingdom, 392; sale of pardons, 404, 439; no horror felt at election of Alexander VI. , 410; Turks invited to Italy, 415, 551; censure of press, 416: alliance with France, 427, 566; political crimes of Alexander VI. , 428; tide turns with Julius II. , 433; reforms of Adrian VI. , 441; moral advantage of sack of Rome, 445. Court, 372; its scandalous history, 390, 403, 411, 414, 420, 424, 439, 457; extravagance, 390, 436, 437; extortion, 437; monopolies, 394; nepotism, 419, 438; simony, 394, 405, 414; art patronage, 384, 401, 433, 436. Paterini, 9. Paul II. , 383. Pazzi conspiracy, 396. Perrotti quoted, 179. Perugia, 612. Pescara, marquis of, 634. Petrarch, 11, 20; quoted, 250. Piccolomini (see Pius II. ). Pisa, 342, 560. Pitti, 275, 280; works, 291, Pius II. , 380. Poggio quoted, 187. Poliziano, 171, Poontano cited, 481. Printers of Renaissance, 23, Provence, civilization of, 9. Puritanism, 25, 37. 

R

Raffaella quoted, 483. Raphael, works, 488. Reformation, 433; how affected by Renaissance, 27. Rembrandt, works, 490. Renaissance (see Middle Age), not synonymous with "revival of learning, " 1; not completed, 2; extent of signification, 2-3; origin, 4; idea not separable from "Reformation, " "Revolution, " 5; effect on old beliefs, 14, 16; all its tendencies worldly, 455; restores double past, Christian and pagan, 506; obstacles in the way, 5; preparation, 9; opposition of the Church, 10; character of the men, 12; discoveries, 15; scholarship, 20; assimilation of paganism, 25; reaction against enlightenment, 25; inventions, 29. Reuchlin, 27. Reumont, A. Von, cited, 212, 524. Ripamonti quoted, 163, 167. Robbia, works, 489. Romagna, 349. Romano, Ezzelino da, 69, 75, 106, 119; Giulio, works, 490. Rome (see Italy, Papacy), effect of its ruins, 253; appearance at time of French occupation, 564; early mediæval history, 47; opposition to Lombards, 49; government semi-independent of pope, 376; advantages derived from presence of papal court, 377; improvements under Nicholas V. , 378; impunity of criminals, 405; factions destroyed, 413; rising of Colonnas, 443; sack, 444, 636; prostitutes, 474. Romeo and Juliet, 74, Rosellini, works, 489, Rosenbaum cited, 567. Royere, F. Della (see Sixtus IV. ); Francesco Maria, 393; Giuliano (see Julius II, ); Pietro, 390. Rubens, works, 490. 

S

Sadoleto, quoted, 446. Savelli, 375. Savonarola, 202, 221, 230, 277, 283, 290, 345, 368, 453, 454, 456, 491, 498 seq. , 561, 622; poems, 502; settles in Florence, 504; portraits, 508; eloquence, 510; creed, 513; prophecies, 514; political career, 526; hatred of secular culture, 527; dares not break with Rome, 531; martyrdom, 533; works, 536; quoted, 128. Savoy, 146. Scala, della, family, 145, 258. Scheffer-Bolchorst cited, 252, 269. Segal, 278, 280, 289; works 292, seq. Sforza family, 131 seq. ; their magnificience, 164; to be made kings of Lombardy, 392; Francesco, 153, 159 seq. , 345; Galeazzo, 165; Ludovico, 543 seq. Shelley cited, 477. Siena, 207, 616. Sismondi quoted, 138, 144, 159, 226, 533. Sixtus IV. , 388 seq. , 502. Soderini, P. , 289, 324. Spaniards, cruelty of, 478. Spinoza, 26. Stendhal cited, 482. Stephani, the, 23. Strozzi, Ercole, 423; F. , 285. Swiss, 450. Syphilis, history of, 567. 

T

Tasso, 486. Temporal Power (see Papacy). Tenda, Beatrice di, 152. Theodoric, 47. Theology, effect of Renaissance upon, 16. Tiraboschi, quoted, 173. Titian, works, 19Torre, della, 132. Trinci, 122. 

U

Urbino, dukes of, 174 seq. , 393, 438. 

V

Valois, Charles of, 76. Varani, 121. Varchi, 278, 290; works, 279, 303 seq. ; quoted, 204, 244, 505. Venice, 79, 88, 91; an exception among the republics, 195, 214; constitution, 215; the Ten, 218; fascination exercised by government, 220; military system, 220; no initiative mining citizens, 233; compared with Sparta, 234; indifference to prosperity of Italy, 550. Vespusiano quoted, 174, 477, 612. Vettori, F. , 624; works, 626. Vicenza, John of, 607. Villani, M. , works, 251 seq. , quoted, 128, 139. Villari, quoted, 195, 500. Vinci, da, 326, 548; works, 489. Virgil, 20. Virtu, 171, 337, 345, 484, 493. Visconti, family, 131 seq. ; their realm falls to pieces, 150; Filippo, 152; Gisa, 141; Violante, 137. 

W

Webster, J. , quoted, 119, 557. Witchcraft persecutions, 402. 

Y

Yriarte, quoted, 210, 217.