BOOK THE FIRST.
CHAPTER III.
FROM A.D. 650 TO A.D. 805.
Centuries of historical darkness follow the foregoing
times, broken only by the meteor-like course of Charlemagne whose spirit,
apparently destined to rouse up mankind, soon vanished from the scene raid left
the world in more than pristine obscurity. His exploits were chanted in
romantic numbers and adorned with fairy superstitions by groups of itinerants
thence called Charlatans, and the deeds of his Paladins still excite the
youthful spirit by their romantic and daring character. It is only from the
reign of this monarch that we must take the still slight and uncertain clue of
Florentine history, after some inquiry into the supposed destruction and
rebuilding of the city, a theme almost as obscure as her name and origin, and
the cause of much learned investigation amongst Tuscan antiquaries. Leonardo
Aretino and Scipione Ammirato altogether discard the commonly received notion
of its ruin by Totila; and the labours of Vincenzo Borghini and Giovanni Lami
leave no doubt on a subject which anterior writers had handled so clumsily as
to confuse this chief with the barbarian Attila, who almost a century earlier
and never crossed the Apennines. But as in modern Italy the traveller is
referred to French domination for the source of all moral and physical evil, so
probably in those gloomy times was every national misfortune attributed to him
whose exploits then most fully occupied the public attention.
Totila or Baduilla, the
supposed destroyer of Florence, was an Italian of royal blood and Gothic race;
who after the death of Erarico (541), was unanimously
chosen king of that nation at a moment when it quailed under the energy of
Belisarius, and when five thousand warriors were the scanty remnant of all its
veteran bands. The absence of that renowned captain and the weakness of his
successor Alexander were soon felt by both nations and proved peculiarly
favourable to Totila; for more intent on gain and vexatious prosecutions than
the charge of war, Alexander soon exhausted the courage and resources of a
suffering nation. A defeat of the imperialists near Verona gave Totila complete
command of that country by forcing them back in five separate columns on the
fenced cities of Romagna and Tuscany: Justin with one of these threw himself
into Florence, where he was soon followed by a Gothic force which, after a
second victory near Faenza, was sent to surprise him; but at his earnest
entreaties a body of troops assembled at Ravenna, and by forced marches drove Totila’s army into the Mugello, leaving Florence free.
Although quarrelling amongst themselves the imperial generals resolved to
follow up their blow but were totally routed, while the victor’s army was
augmented by the enlistment of numerous prisoners. After failing in this
attempt on Florence, Totila renewed the campaign in 543 by a southward march
through Romagna, reducing Beneventum and all the neighbouring provinces; even
Rome fell; but was subsequently recaptured by Belisarius, who had reassumed the
command in Italy: yet thus for ten years did the Lombard march from victory to
victory, securing friends and conquering foes almost by the glitter of his
arms.
It was in one of these campaigns that he added
Florence to his conquests either by capitulation or the people’s will.
Belisarius was gone; but his genius reappeared in Narses; Victory unfaithful to
the Gothic standard resumed her ancient post amongst the Roman Eagles, and
Totila after a long and bloody resistance died at the battle of Tagina, in 552.
The place is now unknown. His orders were to use
neither sword nor shaft in the battle, but trust to pike and lance alone for
victory; he was defeated and of course blamed, for the issue was unfortunate;
but we know nothing of the circumstances in which he acted, the nature of the
ground, nor the quality or equipment of the adverse legions; and the fireside
criticism of a great general’s actions is as easy as it is presumptuous.
Totila seems to have been just, clement, and chaste;
as well as prudent, vigilant, and indefatigable; his virtues deserved a happier
fate: he took Rome, but spent his anger on the walls, not the people; and
though highly exasperated, spared that city at the remonstrance of Belisarius.
He raised an expiring nation to the pride of power, baffled one of the greatest
generals of the age, and dying gloriously though defeated, has been slandered
both by religious and national enemies. He was a barbarian, and in that age
which of them was not? But it may be a doubtful question whether the rugged
northern virtues were not preferable to the morbid civilisation of polished,
but immoral Greeks, even as their own writers have described them.
Procopius does not even mention Florence amongst the
rides taken by Totila, and his continuator Agathus says in the first book of the Gothic war, as cited by Lami and Borghini, that
while advancing on Florence, Narses was met by the citizens, who being assured
of indemnity in property and person, freely capitulated; this not only proves
their ability to defend themselves, but would also argue that they had voluntarily
submitted to Totila, as a pardon from the conqueror afterwards became necessary
for their safety. It follows that the Florentine defences must have been then
untouched; that they had not even been affected by Totila’s humane and politic custom of destroying the walls of towns in order to save the
hardships of a siege and hasten the termination of hostilities in the open
field. If Florence were ever ruined, it probably was under the Lombards, and
less from wanton destructiveness than oppressive government: but of that
unhappy ago the records are wanting, and we only know that perpetual and unmitigated
war raged wildly over the whole Italian peninsula.
In a public instrument of the year 774, Florence is
mentioned rather as a suburb of Fiesole, than an independent city; and even in
801 a curious document given in Giovanbattista Ubaldini’s history of his own family, (by which several of
them are made Knights of the Golden Spur) describes it as deserted in
consequence of the general misery. This expression probably related to what
then remained of the city, as the term is “derelict” not destroyed. Neither was
it the custom at that epoch to appoint pastors where there was no flock or a
mere remnant, insufficient to justify such nominations; and yet two bishops of
Florence seem to have existed during the time of Narses. Moreover, in the acts
passed at Rome, confirming those of the sixth general council held at
Constantinople in 681, the name of Reparato, Bishop
of Florence is, according to Borghini, to be seen. It is true that the
episcopal title and functions might have existed after the diocesan capital was
ruined, but this does not seem to be the case, because Borghini mentions as
still existing in his day a very ancient deed of gift made by Spezioso, Bishop of Florence in 729, of the “Lands of Cintoia” to the Canons of the Florentine cathedral.
All this tends to prove that Florence so far from
having been ruined, with the exception perhaps of her theatre and amphitheatre,
was not destroyed at all; and therefore the credibility of its reedification by Charlemagne is diminished: nevertheless,
an ancient tradition adopted by all the early writers and accompanied by
various details, can scarcely have sprung from nothing and may not be difficult
to explain.
The Scythians and Germans, according to Tacitus, had a
strong aversion to walled towns, which they considered as a sort of prison, and
under this impression razed the defences of every captured city to the ground,
as much perhaps from policy as habit; and in the beginning no fortified place
existed in Lombardy nor were any afterwards allowed without the royal
permission. Charters thus became necessary and were at first rare, but
multiplied about the close of the ninth century when the whole country was suffering
under Saracenic and Hungarian ravagers.
Following their national customs, the Lombards
probably levelled the walls of Florence and completed the ruin of all places of
public amusement: this would naturally have hastened the depopulation of a
place about the welfare of which they may have been less careful from their
holding Tuscany more as a tributary state than a national settlement; and an
impatience of their hard dominion would, on the other hand, have induced many
Florentine families to seek a life of more independence in the country, as emigration
was strictly forbidden by the Lombard law. The reunion of all these families by
Charlemagne, coupled with a restoration of the walls and a new form of civil
government, may be fairly called a reedification of
Florence; and her previously imagined condition would justify the expression of
“derelict” in the Ubaldini patent, as well as
the title of refounder of Florence for that emperor.
The Scotch historian, Leslie, amongst other actions of
Charlemagne, attributes the restoration and new-born liberty of Florence to the
influence of his companion William, the King of Scotland’s brother; and to
commemorate it, a decree passed ordering that a certain number of Lions, as
emblematic of their patron, should ever after be maintained at the public
expense. Whatever credit may be due to this legend, there seems little doubt of
Charlemagne’s having encouraged the visits of distinguished foreigners had made
use of their services: learned men from Ireland, where it would appear that
most of the western erudition was then concentrated, were invited to aid in the
improvement of France; and at the beginning of his reign, and when letters had
little or no reputation there, two Benedictines, Clement and Albinus, arrived
from the former country, both deeply versed in sacred and profane literature.
These monks traversed all France, calling on the people to listen to the words
of wisdom; Charlemagne summoned both to his presence, and being convinced of
their talents and sincerity, engaged Clement to open a school for people of
every rank who should be desirous of literary acquirements: a third named Dungal followed, who after the year 774 is said to have visited Italy, and in a
monastery of Augustine Friars at Pavia under the auspices of this philosopher,
learning was also revived in that country, and soon spread to the neighbouring
states of Vicenza, Verona, Ivrea, Turin, and Fermo.
Charlemagne’s arrival in Italy is an event too closely
allied to the resuscitation of Florence to be passed in silence, wherefore, a
rapid view may be taken of the occurrences that led to this expedition.
About the year 751 Astolfo, King of the Lombards,
ambitious of annexing the Italian remnant of western empire to his own states,
at once occupied Ravenna, from which place the last Exarch, Eulichius,
had previously fled, and immediately invaded the Roman state, then really
governed by its bishop, though ostensibly ruled by an imperial duke. After some
fighting, a truce was made with Pope Stephen the Second for forty years, but
observed only for four months, when a new invasion disturbed the pontiff’s
tranquillity, and the more so as it was accompanied by an avowal of Astolfo’s
design to annex Rome itself to his dominions, while an immediate reduction of
her dependent cities showed the menace to be serious. Imperial remonstrances
unsupported by troops were harmless against Lombard ambition and Lombard
spears, so that Stephen followed the example of his predecessors, and begged
assistance from Pepin, as they had from his father Charles Martel. His
application was secretly carried by a pilgrim, and he himself was invited by
that king to cross the Alps, with a promise of immediate aid: after a dangerous
journey through the Lombard states Stephen accomplished his object, crowned his
patron “King of the Franks,” made him Patrician of Rome, and conferred
the same honour on his two sons. The last dignity would probably have been
received with contempt had it come from Constantinople; but emanating from the
same authority which had placed the diadem on his head with the solemn and then
unusual ceremony of anointing, it was accepted as a pledge of amity and a mark
of supremacy over the Roman senate and people, because the Patrician’s
jurisdiction, now scarcely understood, is supposed to have then comprehended
that of the ancient Exarchate, which embraced all the Italian provinces.
Astolfo was now earnestly entreated to restore the
conquests, and on his refusal Pepin with a powerful army marched to Italy in
754, defeated that monarch and besieged Pavia, which was reduced to extremity;
but by Stephen’s intercession Astolfo was afterwards admitted to terms on the
resignation of all his recent acquisitions.
In the following year this unquiet spirit was again
active : against all oaths and treaties he ravaged the country and invested
Rome, but was once more vanquished by the Frankish monarch. These events were
not unobserved in the East, whence ambassadors soon arrived and found Pepin
encamped near Pavia : he was invited by
them to restore the Exarchate, (for the pontiff’s ambition became apparent, and
a temporal ecclesiastical power, independent of Constantinople, was known to be
its object); but they were dismissed with few words,—“the province had already
been given to Saint Peter, and all the gold of Christendom would be
insufficient to annul the decree.”
The dominions thus bestowed were those formerly under
the immediate jurisdiction of the Exarchs, consisting of the province of
Emilia, or modern Romagna; the marches of Ferrara and Commacchio;
five maritime cities, extending from Rimini to Ancona, called the Pentapolis;
and a second inland Pentapolis, between the Adriatic and the Apennines. Besides
these, there were the three subordinate provinces of Venice, Rome, and Naples,
which though separated by hostile lands from the seat of government, still
acknowledged the supremacy of Ravenna.
The Roman Dutchy included all Tuscan, Sabine, and
Latin conquests of the four first centuries of ancient Rome, bounded by the sea
from Civita Vecchia to Terracina. The territory of Naples was bathed by the
waters of that bay, and included the adjacent isles, Capua, and the Roman
colony of Amalfi, where first in this hemisphere the virtues of that mysterious
key which has since unlocked the world, were applied to European navigation. So
munificent a gift was formally bestowed by offering the keys of about twenty
one cities on the shrine of Saint Peter, along with the written donation of
Pepin to that apostle and the Roman Republic, a name then fondly
preserved, and synonymous with the Western Empire.
This transaction, which annihilated the Byzantine
power in Italy, is the first instance on record of temporal dominion being
formally bestowed on the “Servant of Servants,” an example never lost sight of
by the divers and conflicting hierarchies of succeeding times. Astolfo’s death
raised several competitors for the Lombard throne, amongst them his brother
Rachis who had once filled it with some reputation, and afterwards retired to a
convent: wearied of seclusion, he contested the crown with Desiderius duke of
Istria, and pressed him so hard in 756 as to make the Pope’s assistance
necessary to the latter, which was secured by a promise to restore all that
remained of the imperial territory
The Pontiff’s influence, seconded by certain Roman and
French auxiliaries, insured success; and the royal monk, after commanding
armies, resigning a crown, and boldly attempting its recovery, sank the
following year into the doubtful calm and certain obscurity of a cloister. Pope
Stephen II died in 757, without reaping the fruit of his labours for Desiderius,
and was replaced by Paul I, who in 761 settled this question and enjoyed a
tranquil pontificate. Stephen III succeeded, and Pepin’s decease in 767,
left Charles and Carloman joint heirs of his dominions. France fell to Charles,
who in 768 sent twelve bishops to a council at Rome, and amongst them Tilpin, Archbishop of Rheims, who afterwards under the name
of Turpin acquired an unfounded celebrity as the supposed author of the ancient
romances of those times.
Charles, in despite of the Pope, married a daughter of
Desiderius in 771, whom he subsequently repudiated, but Carloman dying the same
year, he reunited the empire; and in 772 his brother’s widow and her two
children took refuge at the court of Lombardy.
Adrian the First, a stern ambitious man, succeeded
Stephen; he was one of those whose proud, intolerant spirit receives the praise
of churchmen for its condemnatory standard of religion and mischievous bigotry;
disputes soon arose with King Desiderius, who in 773 urged him to declare the
rights of Carloman’s orphan children; but there was more both to hope and fear
from the uncle’s power than the nephew’s weakness, and the priest refused. Desiderius
immediately invaded the Exarchate, menaced Rome, and demanded a personal
interview; Adrian closed his gates, prepared for war, and threatened his
adversary with excommunication; the latter succeeded, for spiritual power was
even thus early so formidable, that the intimidated prince retired awe-struck
from Viterbo.
Charles was appealed to by the Pontiff, and
unsuccessfully remonstrated, although offering to make a pecuniary compromise
with Desiderius; he then crossed the Alps and laid siege to Pavia, where the
Lombard had taken refuge, and to Verona, which obeyed his son Adelgiso. Both fell within eight months; the prince
escaping to Constantinople while the king remained a captive in France, where
he ended his existence. The Lombard states soon yielded, with the exception of
Beneventum, an independent dukedom comprising most part of modern Naples; and
Charles, by assuming the title of King of Italy, began a new era in her
eventful history.
The kingdom thus acquired extended from Pavia, as a
centre in radii of various lengths on every point of the compass; the “Terra
forma” of Venice; the Tyrol; the Milanese; Piedmont; the coast or “Riviera” of
Genoa; Mantua, Parma, and Modena with their territories; the present Tuscany,
and a great portion of the ecclesiastical state from Perugia to the Adriatic
all acknowledged Charlemagne’s supremacy. Benevento subsequently fell, and thus
in subduing a troublesome neighbour the Church was forced to bow to a more
powerful though friendly master.
It was during the investment of Pavia in April 771
that Charlemagne made his first visit to Rome, and passing through Florence was
petitioned by the inhabitants to rebuild the walls and reestablish their
ancient freedom.
He was only once at Florence afterwards, when marching
to invade Beneventum in 786, followed by several Tuscan chiefs; amongst others,
as we are told, by sixty mounted knights of the Ubaldini family, with five hundred of their vassals from the Mugello province; so early
did that ancient and troublesome race become powerful in Tuscany. Many
privileges were probably granted during this visit, and Florence must have
greatly prospered to induce the emperor to hold a royal court and spend a
Christmas within its walls.
When Charlemagne visited Rome for the last time in
800, to be crowned by Leo III, he avoided Florence and took the Romagna road
both going and returning; it is therefore an error of the early historians to
assert that he founded the church of the Holy Apostles in 801, made many
knights, and held the Easter of 805 in that city; and probably a still greater
in supposing that it was repeopled by Roman families; for Rome herself had
suffered too much to spare any of her population; nay, wishing about this time to
restore Ostia, she was even obliged to invite colonists from Sardinia to
inhabit it.
It is far more likely that during this interval the
ancient Florentine families reassembled and possibly erected the first modern
circuit of walls, if they were not indeed subsequently raised in common with
many other places, against the Huns and Saracens, who became the terror of
Italy for near fifty years of the ninth and tenth centuries; and to such an
extent did this mania or rather necessity for defences reach in that unhappy
time, that scarcely a town, village, or convent was wanting in walls and
towers; if not already defended by a connected inclosure of lofty houses pierced towards the country by high and narrow windows, that
secured the public safety.
These long-continued incursions gradually disciplined
the people while they invested the citizen with a new and important character;
when towns were open and secure, few people took an active part in public
matters, and were generally of too little consequence to become patriots; being
bound together under one general government, and ruled immediately and
despotically by its ministers, there was little room for local ambition or high
political sentiment; but when forced to stand singly on the defensive, each man
began to feel his own individual importance and the necessity of exertion:
hence walls arose, militia were embodied, and a freer form of government began;
the peasantry also were compelled to think and act, and a forward movement was
soon imparted to the popular mass, the harbinger of still more important
changes.
Now it is more probable that the Florentine ramparts
were constructed at this ruffling period than at the moment when a young and powerful
conqueror had nearly subdued Italy, when no external enemy existed, and
therefore when both expense and necessity were against them; wherefore Dante
was probably correct in all but the destroyer’s name when he, without reference
to Charlemagne, tells us of
“Those citizens who afterwards refounded it
Upon the ashes that remained from Attila.”
Inferno, Canto XIII.
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