MEDIEVAL HISTORY LIBRARYA HISTORY OF FRANKISH GREECE (1204-1566)
CHAPTER XVCORFU (1214-1485)
We have described in the previous chapters the rise and
fall of the various states of continental Greece, whose history occupied the
period between the Latin and the Turkish Conquests. We must now turn to the two
principal island possessions of the Franks, omitting, for the sake of clearness,
those minor places in the Aegean whose fortunes do not affect the main
narrative. These two insular states are the duchy of Naxos, and the colony of
Corfu. In the history of both, Venetian enterprise played a conspicuous part.
Both survived, though for different periods of time, the establishment of
Turkish rule on the mainland, and Corfu, the most important of the Ionian
islands, was practically never subjected to the Mussulman yoke. But in other
respects the careers of the two exhibit widely different results of Latin rule
in the Levant.
The island of Corfu, the loveliest spot in all Greece,
has had a history separate, down to very recent times, from the rest of the
country. Even the other Ionian islands, except the little island of Paxo, lie
far away from the ancient home of the Phaeacians. For well-nigh three centuries
its history was quite distinct from theirs, and it was not till after the
Turkish Conquest of the mainland of Greece, that they were all united under the
Venetian banner, which waved over them until the downfall of the republic in
1797.
We saw in the second and third chapters how, after two
Venetian attempts to colonise Corfu, the island was captured by Michael I,
Despot of Epiros, about the year 1214, with whose continental dominions it
remained united for half-a-century. We saw, too, how one Despot after another
ratified and extended the privileges of the Corfiote Church, which they wisely
recognised as the bulwark of their rule over the islanders, and which furnished
them, from the pen of the metropolitan, George Barddnes, with plausible
arguments against the theologians of the Nicene Empire. Under the sway of the
bastard Michael II, the island was specially favoured. An usurper, he was bound
to conciliate his subjects, and we accordingly find him lavishing one privilege
after another upon the fortunate Corfiotes. At the end of 1236, immediately
after he had made himself master of the island, he not only confirmed their
former rights, but made them and their villains practically exempt from
taxation and customs duties; ten years later, by two successive
golden bulls, he freed the thirty-two priests of the town of Corfu, who formed
a religious corporation, from all forced labour, and bestowed
similar privileges upon the thirty-three country popes, who were consequently
described as the “freemen”, forming a regular caste, into which none but
members of their own families could enter. From the scanty notices of the
period when Corfu belonged to the Despotat of Epiros which have come down to
us, it is clear that this was the zenith of the orthodox church in the island.
Long after the times of the Despots, the Corfiote clergy were wont to produce
their charters when they sought for redress from their Angevin or Venetian rulers,
and the institution of the thirty-two town priests still existed in the middle
of the fifteenth century, when it was regarded as the mainstay of orthodoxy in
the island. These privileged priests never forgot their benefactors, and the
wise ecclesiastical policy of the Despots of Epiros saved the Greek Church
through centuries of Roman Catholic predominance.
Of the civil administration of the Despots in the
island we know scarcely anything, beyond the fact that in their time it was
divided into ten “decarchies”— possibly a continuation of the Venetian system of colonisation
by ten nobles, possibly a survival
of the old Roman decuriones, or local landowners. It is interesting to notice that among the names of these“decarchies” which have come down to us, one at least,
in the slightly corrupted form of “Bistoni”,
preserves that of the classic mountain of Istone, the modern Santi Deka, which
figures in Thucydides’ account of the Corcyraean sedition. The oldest historian
of Corfu may be exaggerating when he says
that the Despots of Epiros “adorned the city with most noble buildings”, but
tradition and probability are with him when he ascribes to them the castle of
Sant’ Angelo on the west coast, whose ruins, in a superb situation above the
blue Ionian sea, still preserve the name of that adventurous race.
Michael II, as we saw, considered it necessary to
secure the alliance of King Manfred in his struggle
for the leadership of the Greeks. Accordingly, in 1259, he married his
beautiful daughter Helene to the sovereign of the Two Sicilies, to whom she
brought as her dowry Corfu, the fortresses of Butrinto, Suboto, and Valona, and
one or two other places on the mainland. It was not the first time that the
island had been a Sicilian possession, for more than once in the course of the
twelfth century the Normans of Sicily had temporarily occupied it. Unable,
however, to govern it in person, Manfred entrusted the island, together with
his possessions in Epiros, to his admiral, Filippo Chinardo, who, as a Frank from Cyprus, had had experience of managing
Greeks, and who endeavoured to win over the Corfiotes by exempting them from
the duty of repairing the Sicilian fleet. Even after Manfred had fallen at the
battle of Benevento and his widow and children were prisoners of Charles of
Anjou, Chinardo maintained his position in Corfu and the Epirote fortresses for
a few more months. The crafty Despot of Epiros gave him the hand of his sister-in-law, and recognised him as lord of the
island by regarding it as her dowry, now that his daughter, its rightful owner,
was in prison. Chinardo felt himself secure enough to bestow Corfiote fiefs upon his lieutenants, thus
extending the feudal system which had been founded under the Greeks and which
so long prevailed in Corfu. But there was a Greek party in the island which was
in communication with the Despot, and the latter had no difficulty in procuring
his assassination. Michael II. did not, however, reap the profit of his crime.
One of Chinardo’s newly created barons, Garnier Aleman, a member of the
Provencal family which we saw installed at Patras, had the strongest motives of
personal interest to keep out the Greeks. He naturally turned for aid to his
fellow-countryman and fellow-Catholic, Charles of Anjou, who regarded himself
as the representative of the conquered Manfred in all the latter’s possessions.
On hearing of Chinardo’s murder, Charles had, in January 1267, appointed the
murdered man’s son captain of Corfu. But Aleman’s position and services called
for this reward, and the office of captain and vicar-general was transferred to
him by the cautious king.1 The treaty of Viterbo, two months later,
formally recognised Charles’s rights over the lands “which had been held by
Manfred and Filippo Chinardo”. Thus, in 1267, began the Angevin domination over
Corfu.
For the next few years, however, Charles of Anjou was
too much occupied with Italian politics to devote his personal attention to
that grand scheme for the conquest of the Eastern Empire, which had been
conceived at Viterbo, and towards which he, like Bonaparte five centuries
later, considered the occupation of Corfu to be the first step. He added indeed
the style of “King of Corfu” to his other titles, and deputed Prince William of
Achaia to make arrangements for its custody; but he thought it expedient to
allow Aleman to remain in undisturbed and practically independent possession of
the island and its castles, excusing him from rendering any account of his
administration, and pardoning any offence which he might have committed against
the king’s orders. It is clear that the diplomatic monarch was anxious not to
offend the proud Provengal baron, to whom he owed the island; it is clear, too,
that he desired to conciliate the Greek party among the Corfiotes; one of his
first acts was to recall all the natives who had fled the island, except those
implicated in Chinardo’s assassination; another was to guarantee to all the
citizens the security of their lives and the enjoyment of their property
according to the usages and customs of the island.
Just as the death of the Despot Michael II gave
Charles the opportunity of carrying out his long-deferred plans in Epiros, so
that of Garnier Aleman in 1272 made him for the first time the real master of
Corfu. Aleman’s son was satisfied with a money payment and with confirmation of
his family fiefs in the island, and Giordano di San Felice, the new
vicar-general and captain of Corfu, took possession in Charles’s name of the
three fortresses of Castel Vecchio, Castel Nuovo (as the two summits of the
present Fortezza Vecchia were then called), and Sant’ Angelo. Under his
jurisdiction were the castles of Suboto and Butrinto, “ the key of Corfu,” as
the Venetians called the latter, which had once belonged to Manfred and
Chinardo, which had been retaken by the Greeks, but which, in 1279, was
restored to Manfred’s conqueror by the feeble Despot Nikephoros I.
The Angevin rule, as might have been anticipated from
its origin, was especially intolerant of the orthodox faith. Charles owed his
crown to the pope, and was anxious to repay the obligation by propagating
Catholicism among his orthodox subjects. The Venetians, as we saw, had enjoined
tolerance of the Greek Church during their brief period of domination; the
Despots of Epiros had made it a privileged body; now for the first time the
islanders learnt what religious persecution meant. The metropolitan of Corfii,
whose dignity dated from the tenth century, and who had played so conspicuous a
part in the disputes between Epiros and Nice, was deposed, and in his place a
less dignified ecclesiastic, called “chief priest” was substituted. This
personage was elected by the thirty-two priests of “the sacred band” and by the
same number of local nobles, while eight similar ecclesiastics were appointed
for the benefit of the Greeks throughout the island. The title of “Archbishop
of Corfu” was usurped by Antonio, a Latin priest, and the principal churches,
including the cathedral, which was then in the fortress, were seized by the
Catholic clergy; the residence of the metropolitan had already been pulled down
by Chinardo. It was not till the Russians landed in Corfu a hundred years ago
that the Greek Church recovered its high position in the island, though the
successors of Charles showed their willingness to grant favours to the Greek
clergy.
Towards another religion, that of the Jews, the
Angevins were sufficiently tolerant to induce that race to settle for the first
time in any numbers in the island, where a ghetto and its vicar are mentioned
in 1365; but the injunctions of successive sovereigns, bidding the Corfiotes
treat them well, would seem to show that this protection was seldom efficacious
against the prejudices of the natives, prejudices not quite extinct in our own
day. That these Jews came from the Levant rather than from Italy seems proved
by the curious fact that the Greek is the older of the two Corfiote synagogues,
and that the earliest known example of vulgar Greek prose is a translation of
the Book of Jonah for the use of the synagogue in Corfu.
The military and civil administration was placed, as
was natural, in the hands of Italians or Provencals. At the head of the
government was the captain, or vicar-general, usually directly dependent upon
the king, but at times specially placed under the supreme authority of the
royal representative in Albania. A magister massarius, or treasurer (so called
because one of his duties was to look after the material of war and other
instruments of the massa, or public “estate”) was the second Angevin official,
and in the middle of the fourteenth century the two offices were united in the
same person. A third official was styled inquisitor). The High Court of Justice,
or Curia Regis was composed of the captain, a legal assessor, and a notary, all foreigners and all appointed by
the sovereign, together with two or three Corfiote judges, who from their
tenure of office were styled judices annuales. This
court, which sat to try all civil and criminal cases, met in the loggia- adjoining, or in a palace “above the iron gate,” an important
entrance, the custody of which was entrusted to a special officer.2 The official language of the court was Latin, but we find the captain signing his name in French, and there was a public notary for the
Greek tongue, in which contracts between a Greek and a foreigner were drawn up.3 One of the first acts of the Latin
rulers was to introduce the feudal usages and customs of the Empire of Romania.
The island, under the Angevins, was divided into four
bailiwicks, each administered by a bailie, and
called respectively the Circle, the Mountain, the Centre, and Levkimme after
the White Cape at the South. The old decarchies, however,
continued to exist, as in the days of the Despots. The landjbelonged partly to the royal domain, and partly to the barons, to whom it had been granted by the sovereign. One of Charles’s chief instructions was to draw up a complete list of the Corfiote fiefs, distinguishing those created by Manfred and Chinardo from those
of Greek origin. This list has been lost; but,
if we may believe the historian Marmora,7 there were twenty-four at the time of the Angevin occupation. These fiefs passed into the possession of Provencal or Italian families like that of Goth (or
Hugot), which had accompanied Charles to Naples,
or those of Altavilla, S. Ippolito, and Caracciolo. This great Neapolitan clan left its name long imprinted on the land which was once its property. Even the little group of the Othonian islands formed one of
the fiefs in the gift of the sovereign of Corfu.
The Latin barons formed a council which met in the
arcades near “the iron gate”, and which elected the abovementioned “annual
judges”, four officials, named sindici, who were the representatives of the
community, and two others, bearing the ancient Byzantine title of catapan, who
looked after the food supplies. As time went on, baronies were conferred on
Greeks who had rendered services to the sovereign, such as the family of
Kavasilas from Epiros; and, towards the close of the Angevin period, we find
the community, or at least the principal persons composing it, summoned by the
sound of the bell for the discussion of public affairs. One prince after
another, as the Corfiotes confessed, conferred privileges upon them.
The island was, indeed, valuable to the Angevins for
other reasons than its strategic position. Charles I found it well suited for
horse-breeding; it possessed valuable saltpans; it produced plenty of wine;
and its olive-trees, though not what they afterwards became in the Venetian
times, are already mentioned in the fourteenth century. The fisheries of
Butrinto were a source of revenue, and there was sufficient trade to attract a Venetian,
as well as a Jewish colony, to the island. Moreover, the Corfiotes, descendants
of the sea-faring Phaeacians, were bound to furnish crews for the Angevin
fleet.
The Sicilian Vespers and the consequent struggle
between the houses of Aragon and Anjou entailed the vengeance of the former
party upon the unhappy Corfiotes, who had the misfortune to be subjects of the
latter. Roger de Lluria twice ravaged the island, burning and destroying the
castle; Berenguer d’Enten^a and Berenguer Villaraut both raided this beautiful
spot; and, on its way to Constantinople, the Catalan Grand Company did not fail
to plunder it. Nor were the Aragonese fleets the only evils of which the islanders
complained. The captains at this period were absentees—men of great name and
lineage, like Hugh of Brienne, baron of Karytaina; Count Richard of Cephalonia;
and Florent d’Avesnes, Prince of Achaia; who had more important interests
elsewhere, and whose deputies oppressed the people. Charles II. of Naples, who
was now their sovereign, showed, however, that he wished them well. In 1294, he
confirmed1 the golden bull which the Despot Michael II. had issued
in 1236; in the same year he bestowed the island, together with the castle of
Butrinto and its dependencies, upon his fourth son, Philip of Taranto, on the
occasion of his marriage with the fair Thamar of Epiros, reserving to himself
the overlordship as a matter of form. Thus the Prince of Taranto repeated the
diplomatic marriage of Manfred under more favourable auspices. Holding Corfu,
with its dependencies and the dowry of Thamar on the mainland, he seemed to
occupy a stronger position than any previous Latin ruler of the island. So far
as high-sounding titles went, there was soon no personage in the Latin Orient
so magnificent as the new “ Lord of Corfu,” as he styled himself on his coins,
who was also titular Emperor of Constantinople, Prince of Achaia, and Despot of
Romania.
His long reign of nearly forty years over the island
was, if we may believe the indiscriminate panegyric of Marmora, a second golden
age, during which a well-beloved prince governed a devoted people. He
strengthened the Catholic element, and at the same time encouraged agriculture
by conferring upon the archbishop the waste and uncultivated lands of the island
for the support of the established church. He issued orders for the
protection of the Jews, whose Sabbath services were disturbed, whose
possessions were liable to seizure, and whose services were enlisted as
galley-slaves, or worse still, as public executioners, a duty all the more
repugnant because the gallows were erected in the Jewish cemetery.
But there are some
dark shadows on the picture, which the courtly artist has
omitted. So ardent a Catholic as the Prince of Taranto could scarcely be
expected to tolerate the Greek Church, which represented a national as well as
a religious force, especially as the Greek emperor had recently bestowed upon
the new metropolitan of Joannina the offensive title of “Exarch of Corfu”.
There was, too, the alarm of Greek invasions from the mainland opposite. At one
moment we find the Despot Thomas of Epiros scheming with the Greek emperor’s
admiral to make a descent from Valona on Corfu; at another it is Count John II.
of Cephalonia who threatens the fortunate island; or, again, it is the imperial
fleet which blockades the harbour. Philip’s governors, too, oppressed even the
Catholic Church; and the prince, always an absentee and for some years a
prisoner, was not able to keep a tight hand upon them. Still, in the Venetian
times, the Corfiote nobles looked back on the good Prince of Taranto as the
founder of many of the privileges which they enjoyed, and he confirmed and
strengthened the feudal system by grants of new baronies to his friends.1 Among these was Guglielmo Tocco, who, as his governor in Corfu, laid the
foundations of that remarkable family’s fortunes in the Ionian islands.
Philip’s son, Robert, was a minor at the time of his
father’s death, and his mother, the titular Empress Catherine of Valois,
exercised authority in her own and his name in Corfu, as well as in Achaia.
Robert followed his father’s policy of protecting the Corfiote Jews, and of
rewarding his faithful adherents, both Greek and Italian, by the bestowal of
feudal lands. He confirmed the local privileges, especially those of the
thirty-three country priests, granted a century before by the Despot Michael
II., and released them from the exactions of the magister massarius and from
the obligation, which lay upon all the Corfiotes, of making a present to the
prince whenever they appeared in his presence. The fertile island enabled him,
too, to make provision for his wife, Marie de Bourbon, in the event of her
widowhood, and during the struggle which arose between the widow and her
brother-in-law, Philip II of Taranto, she had sufficient authority in Corfu to
repeat her late husband’s orders on behalf of the Hebrew colony. But, from the
death of his brother in 1364, Philip II. exercised the rights of sovereignty
over the island. He, too, strove to protect the Jews, ratified the franchises
so long enjoyed by the village popes, and ordered his officials not to
interfere in the affairs of the Greek clergy, the punishment of whom he allowed
the protopapos of the city of Corfu to determine, as had been their
immemorial custom. In this tolerant policy he was guided by Romanopoulos, the
archbishop, who, though a Greek by race and a Catholic by religion, had neither
the Chauvinism of a naturalised foreigner nor the bigotry of a convert. According to some authorities, it was during this reign that the fief of the
gypsies, of which we shall hear more in the Venetian period, was first created.
At any rate, the gypsies, of whom we have seen traces in other parts of Greece,
where the various TutproKua-Tpa still preserve their name, seem to have crossed
over to Corfu from the mainland during the Angevin domination. These may have
been the oft-mentioned “men from Vagenetia” in Epiros, who first found refuge
at the courts of the Corfiote barons in the reigns of Charles II. and of Philip
I. of Taranto. Catherine of Valois and her son Robert made these serfs, whose
name still lingers in Corfu, a source of revenue, by imposing a polltax upon
them, to be paid by their feudal lord when they entered the island and his
service; and Philip II’s second wife, Elizabeth of Hungary, to whom he granted
Corfu on his marriage in 1371, tried to seize them all and make them serfs of
the princely domain. Against this high-handed act the barons successfully
protested.
Both Elizabeth and her husband died in November 1373,
and his young nephew, Jacques de Baux, became the heir of all his titles and
dominions. The Corfiote barons, however, were as little inclined as their
fellows in the Morea, to accept his sway. During the civil war, which raged
between the Baux and Queen Joanna I of Naples, Jacques found a temporary refuge
in his Greek estates; but the Ionians, headed by Guglielmo and Riccardo
d’Altavilla proclaimed the Queen of Naples as Lady of Corfu, the suzerainty
over which had been preserved, as we saw, ninety years before, to the
Neapolitan Crown. Joanna retained possession of the island for seven years; she
pacified the Greeks by renewing the privileges of the thirty-two city priests,
granted by the Despot Michael II, and confirmed by her predecessors; she
guaranteed to the citizens their old customs and the franchises bestowed upon
them by a long line of Angevin princes; she extended her protection to the
Jews; she encouraged the immigration of the “men from Vagenetia” ; and ordered
her officials to see that the Venetian merchants, so long established there,
enjoyed their time-honoured rights undisturbed. But, in 1380, Jacques de Baux
thought that the moment was favourable for the assertion of his claims in
Greece. The Navarrese Company was despatched thither to do his work, and its
first achievement on Greek soil was the capture of Corfu. The last titular
emperor of Constantinople did his best to win adherents in the island. Almost
his sole act was to purchase the support of the powerful baron, Adamo di Sant’
Ippolito, by the grant of the island of Paxo, which had belonged to Filippo
Malerba of Verona, a recent captain of Corfu—one of the few allusions to the
smallest of the Seven Islands during the Angevin period. But the distracted politics
of the time made the baron of Paxo soon forget his benefactor. Charles III. of
Durazzo descended upon Naples, and robbed Joanna of her crown and life. Corfu,
too weak to stand alone, was divided into three factions—that of the usurper;
that of Joanna’s heir, Louis of Anjou, one of whose officials was pleased to style
himself “Marquis of Corfu” ; and that of Jacques de Baux, whose Navarrese
garrisons must have been detested alike by Greeks and Italians. Sant’ Ippolito
and Riccardo d’Altavilla saw that it was their interest to worship the rising
sun. They succeeded, not without considerable labour and expense, in driving
the Navarrese veterans out of the castles of Corfu and Butrinto; most of the
barons joined them; and, in 1382, Charles III was lord of the island. The
usurper showed the usual “kindness of kings upon their coronation day”; he
rewarded the services of the two most conspicuous traitors, graciously received
a deputation of Italians and Greeks, renewed the ancient privileges of the city
and its thirty-two Greek priests, endeavoured to repair the ravages which the
recent struggle had made in its finances, assured the Jews of his royal protection,
and confirmed important feudal lords, such as the Caracciolo, in their fiefs.1 To those who remember Corfu in the days of the British protectorate, when the
island of Vido in the harbour was defended by those strong fortifications which
we subsequently blew up, it may be of interest to recall that it formed one of
his feudal grants. It was then known as the island of Santo Stefano—a name
derived from the old church, which our engineers sacrificed in 1837. At the
time of the siege of 1537 it was called Malipiero, but later in the sixteenth
century it received from its then owner the name of Vido, changed by the
French, during their brief occupation, into He de la Paix.
There was, however, another Power, which had long
coveted Corfu, and had been closely following the various revolutions in the
ownership of the island. Venice had never forgotten that the key of the
Adriatic had once been hers; during the Angevin period she had made successive
attempts to obtain it—in 1314 and 1351 by purchase, in 1355 by a coup de main.
More recently, negotiations had been opened with Jacques de Baux for the
mortgage, lease, or purchase of the island; but these negotiations also fell
through. Meanwhile, the Venetian consul, after the fashion of Levantine consuls
in our own day, was busy preparing public opinion in Corfii for a Venetian
occupation. There was a party among the Corfiotes, which could not help contrasting
the unbroken continuity of Venetian administration with the continual civil
wars of Naples. Money was freely spent and promises as freely made to wavering
nobles, who may have been frightened by the execution of one of their order for
high treason, but who, when death had removed both Jacques de Baux and Charles
III, found themselves without a sovereign lord. Their allegiance to the throne
of Naples at this moment received a further shock from the discovery that the
baron, who held the city and castle for the late king, was an impostor who had
forged his patent. While the Neapolitan party advocated loyalty to Ladislaus,
Charles’s little son and successor, some thought of Genoa, others of Venice,
and others again actually offered their country to Francesco da Carrara, Signor
of Padua, who at once sent Scrovigno, a trustworthy servant of his own and of
the late king, to occupy the place. That Corfu should fall into the hands of
her bitterest foe was more than Venice could stand; a recent incident had made
it unnecessary to spare the susceptibilities of the Neapolitan court any
longer. Miani, the Captain of the Gulf, chanced to be in Corfiote waters at the
time ; he landed and explained to a meeting of the citizens that his government
was both willing and able to protect them, that Genoa, the only other maritime
power, would treat them like slaves, while Padua had no navy. These arguments
proved effective; the town was peaceably surrendered; and Scrovigno shut himself
up in one of the two forts of the sea-girt castle. But siege materials were
despatched from Venice, the castle was besieged, and Scrovigno was glad to
escape by night on a Genoese galley. Miani then summoned the garrison to
surrender; once again, after the lapse of 170 years, the lion banner was
hoisted over Corfu; thenceforth it floated there for more than four centuries.
A few places, however, held out some time longer for the King of Naples—the
second of the city forts, the lofty castle of Sant’ Angelo on the west coast,
the recently constructed castle of Cassopo at the north of the island, and that
of Butrinto on the opposite main. These strongholds were, however, all
surrendered or taken; that of Cassopo was destroyed for fear lest it should
fall into the hands of the Genoese; strange legends grew up around its ruined ramparts ; and a hundred years later, travellers were
told that it had been deserted because a fiery dragon had poisoned the
inhabitants with his breath. As for Butrinto, its governor, Riccardo
d’Altavilla, who had received his post from Charles III, capitulated as soon as
he had secured his reward from the Venetian commander. Malipiero
arrived from Venice as rector and provveditore of Corfu.
On 28th May, 1386, a meeting of the commune or “of the
larger and saner part of it”, was summoned by the sound of the bell to elect a
deputation which should do homage and present the petition of the commune to
the Venetian government. All the three races of Corfu—Italians, Greeks, and
Jews—were represented among the six Corfiote envoys, and the fact that the name
of “David, son of Simon”, figures beside that of the proud Altavilla, shows the
influence of the Hebrew element in the island. The deputation was instructed to
beg that the new masters of Corfu would observe all the privileges granted to
the community by the Angevins; that the republic would never dispose of the
island; that all fiefs should be confirmed, and that the barons and Holy Church
might continue to exercise the right of dragging their recalcitrant serfs
before the captain, who would keep them in prison till their lords should have
obtained satisfaction; that the captain should administer justice, in civil and
criminal matters alike, with the assistance of the “annual judges”, according
to the ancient custom; that, whereas the commune had resigned to the new rector
the time-honoured Corfiote privilege of exemption from all taxes and tolls, in
consideration of the prosperity of the town, an annual salary should be paid
to a doctor, the walls should be repaired, and a loggia erected for the honour
of the republic and the island; and that all the provisional arrangements made
between Miani and the community should be ratified. A second meeting, held on
9th June, proclaimed the formal acceptance of Venetian rule, because the island
was deprived of its lawful protector, “coveted by its jealous neighbours, and
almost besieged by Arabs and Turks”; and conferred the post of captain and
magister massarius upon Miani, as a token of gratitude for his peaceful
occupation of the city.1
The six envoys met with a warm reception from the
Venetian aristocracy and a handsomely furnished palace was placed at their
disposal. On 8th January, 1387, they obtained an audience of the doge, whom one
of their number addressed, so it is said, in the florid style of the Levant. He
spoke of their past history: how Corcyra had been ruled by Roman and Greek
emperors, by Despots and kings, and expressed the hope that the Venetian lion,
the king of beasts, would scorn to tyrannise over his subjects, but would be
content with their homage and leave them their ancient liberties. The doge was
graciously pleased to accept the one and confirm the other, with a few
alterations and additions. Thus, it was provided that justice should be
administered by the Venetian governor and the “annual judges”, according to
the customs of Venice, to which an appeal would lie; but no Corfiote was to be
tried outside the island, except on appeal. A Greek notary was to be elected,
according to usage, to draw up citations on the Greeks, and two officers of the
court were to be appointed to serve them. A clause was inserted, owing perhaps
to the experience of Crete, ordering the island barons to perform their feudal
service with good and sufficient war-horses; another prohibited the Venetian
officials from forcing the Corfiotes to sell them food or to fish for them ;
while a third directed that the measure for the sale of new wine should be
stamped by the authorities in October, or oftener, but that the customary fee
should be only paid once a year. Finally, the offices of catapan and syndic
were to be retained, and no one except the governor was to interfere with them.
Great was the joy of the Corfiotes at the return of
their envoys with the charter of the island ; nor had they reason to repent their change of
masters. The Venetian bailie, as the governor was called by the express desire of the islanders, reduced the chaos
of the last few years to order. During the general confusion of the interregnum,
various persons had appropriated public property, which they were now compelled to restore. Such was the popularity of the new
government, that the municipality granted it the proceeds of the two per cent, customs duty, which had lately been
imposed, in order to hasten the restoration of the
walls.
Venice was, however, anxious to legalise her position
as mistress of the island. The Queen-regent of Naples
complained of the annexation; Ladislaus, when he came of age, demanded, and attempted to exercise, his rights, but
hinted that he did not mind coming to terms. The negotiations
were protracted till 1402, when Ladislaus finally sold the island with all its dependencies to the republic for
30,000 gold ducats. Thus ended the rule of the
Neapolitan princes over the fairest of Greek islands, and with it their last
connection with Greece. In its early days it was, on the
whole, easy, though its ecclesiastical policy was unfair to the church of the
majority. Later on, when it was weak at home it was ineffective at Corfu. Every revolution at Naples
had an echo in the island, with the worst effect upon the morality of its
public men. It became the highest form of statesmanship to go over to the
winning side, in the certainty of obtaining a fief or an office as the reward of disloyalty. On the
other hand, the insecure title of these successive rulers made them peculiarly
ready to respect the ancient privileges of the islanders. Indeed, it is probable that, in the
Angevin days,
when the sovereign was always an absentee, Corfu was a paradise for the barons and an inferno for their
serfs. The chief result of the Neapolitan
domination was to strengthen the feudal
system and so to confirm that spirit of aristocracy which still characterises the Ionian islands.
Modern Corfu contains scarcely a trace of its Angevin rulers. The church of Santo Stefano has vanished,
Cassopo is a heap of ruins, and one coin alone preserves the name of the princes of Taranto, from which a recently extinct Corfiote family boasted its descent. The Angevin barony of De Martina, once held by the Tocchi, which till
lately survived in the topography of the island, has now changed its name. But the
pilgrimage church on
the summit of Pantokrator
dates from this period.
The administration of Corfu during the Venetian period was modelled on that which had long prevailed
in the older colonies of the republic. For the first twenty-four years, the government was
entrusted to a single Venetian official, styled “bailie
and captain”, who was elected by the Home Government and held office for two
years. But, in 1410, it was decided that two councillors should be sent from
Venice to assist him in the exercise of civil and
criminal jurisdiction and to perform the duty of chamberlain. Each of the
councillors was to receive 300 gold ducats a year, and two towers of the city were assigned as their abodes. They
and the bailie were ordered to sit in court five
days a week, and the “annual judges”, whose numbers were now increased to three, one Latin and two Greeks, continued to act as their assessors. The
peasants, however, soon found that the presence of the two councillors tended to protract litigation and led to
their having to supply two more
officials with fodder for their horses. They accordingly petitioned for a return to the former system of one-man rule, which is really more beneficial to the poor in southern
countries than
more democratic arrangements.
Their prayers were, however, rejected, and the island continued to provide
posts for the two councillors. We are specially told, that, though the Venetian
officials were forbidden to engage in trade, these appointments were considered as the plums of the colonial service. So, in the British
days, the pleasant island of the Phaeacians was regarded as the best of our foreign
stations.
The power of the bailie was further limited by the
institution of a third office, that of the provveditore, who was in command of
the garrison and resided in the fortress, and who also decided those moot
points of feudal law which were of frequent occurrence in a community such as
Corfu. He was, moreover, judge in disputes between the citizens and the
garrison, and his authority extended over the island barony of Paxo, which was
treated by the Venetians as by their predecessors, as an integral part of its
larger neighbour. It continued to belong to the great baronial family of Sant’
Ippolito, which in 1423 fortified it against the Turkish corsairs, who were
wont to carry off the defenceless serfs. When that clan became extinct, it
passed to the other great Neapolitan house of Altavilla, and thence to the
republic. In 1513, however, it was sold, together with the taxes which it paid,
to the family of Avromes, which treated the inhabitants so badly that many of
them fled to Turkish territory. In consequence of this, it was restored to the
jurisdiction of the provveditore, who was locally represented by a leading
native. As time went on, that important official assumed also the title of “captain”,
which had originally been borne by the bailie, and his delegate in Paxo was
accordingly styled “captain” also.
In the sixteenth century the appointment of the great
naval authority of provveditore generale del Levante, whose headquarters were
Corfu, completely overshadowed that of all the other Venetian officials in the
Ionian islands. His arrival for his three years’ term of government was
regulated by an elaborate code of etiquette, still preserved in a special
volume in the Corfiote archives; the Jews had to provide the carpets for the
streets, along which the great man would pass; the heads of both the Latin and
the Greek Church greeted him with all the splendid rites of their respective
establishments; a noble Corfiote pronounced a panegyric upon him in the church
of St Spiridion, before whose remains his excellency would kneel in prayer ere
returning to his palace, where obsequious Hebrews, laden with flowers, bent low
as he crossed the threshold. Strict orders were issued to these officials that
they should respect the rights of the natives, and spies, known as “inquisitors
over the affairs of the Levant”, were sent from time to time to the islands for
the purpose of checking the Venetian administration and of ascertaining the
grievances of the governed, who had, as under the Angevins, the often-exercised
privilege of sending special missions to lay their complaints before the Home
Government We can see from the Venetian archives what Ionian historians
unanimously assert to have been the case, that redress was almost invariably
granted, though the abuses of which the natives complained were apt to grow up
again.
A large share in the local administration was granted
to the inhabitants, or rather to the aristocracy. At the time of the transfer
of the island to Venice, the General Assembly consisted of the principal
citizens, Greeks as well as Italians; but, as time went on, strange elements,
Albanians and Cephalonians, crept into this body, so that, in 1440, it was
ordered that the bailie, with the advice of the “good citizens”, should choose
some seventy prominent persons as a council for the term of one year; half a
century later, this body was increased to 150 —a total preserved till the last
years of Venetian rule. There were henceforth two councils— the General Assembly
and the Council of 150. The former became an oligarchy, composed exclusively of
Greek and Italian nobles, together with a few foreigners who had resided ten
years or married into a Corfiote family. But when the numbers of the nobility
were much diminished by the first great Turkish siege in 1537, new families
were added to the list from the burgher class, the qualification for noble
strangers was subsequently reduced to five years, and Marmora gives the names
of 112 noble families inscribed in the “Golden Book” of the Corfiote
aristocracy when he wrote his history in 1672. The “Golden Book” was burned as
the symbol of hated class distinction in the first enthusiasm for liberty,
equality, and fraternity, after the French republicans took possession of
Corfu. As all the nobles were debarred from engaging in trade, it may readily
be imagined that a premium was put upon place-hunting. Very early in the
Venetian period we hear of the number of Greek lawyers—then, as now, the plague
of Greece. It only remained to discourage agriculture by compelling the nobles to
reside in the city if they wished to take part in the Assembly, and the corruption of Corfiote society
was complete. To these arrangements we may
trace the neglect of country life and the consequent
distress of the island in the present day.
The General Assembly met every year at the end of
October to elect the Council of 150 from
among its own members. At first it seems to have held its sitting in “the hall
above the Chancery”; but, after that building was destroyed by
the Turks at the time of the first siege, it was convened in a quaint house, decorated with pictures of Nausikaa welcoming Odysseus and of other scenes from the early history of Corcyra, and situated on
the esplanade between the Fortezza Vecchia and the town. This interesting memorial of Venetian rule has long since been swept away.
It was the policy
of the Venetian Government to leave the Corfiotes all the minor offices, and it was the desire
of the islanders that these offices should be
annual, so that they might be enjoyed by as many people as possible. Thus, the Council of 150 elected the three
“annual judges,” who, besides sitting as assessors of the bailie and the two councillors in the High Court, formed a petty tribunal of their own for the trial of cases where the sum at issue was small. It elected the four syndics, two Greeks and two
Latins during the period of which we are treating, who were required to be at least thirty-eight years of age and who were the representatives of all classes of the
community, collectively and individually, bringing their grievances before the Venetian authorities, and also
regulating prices in the market—a function which
bordered on that of the still existent catapans. It chose, too, the clerk of the Court, two taxing masters, who regulated the scale of
law costs; the giustizieri, or officials who stamped the weights and
measures; and the person entrusted with the census, which was supposed to be made once during each bailie’s term of office. In 1470, it obtained the privilege of electing the captain of the war galleys fitted out at Corfu, a wise concession of the
Venetian Government, which found, on the great day of Lepanto, that its
Corfiote captains were worthy descendants of the seafaring Phseacians. Venice
was unwilling, however, to relinquish to the natives the posts of constable of
the island, captain of “the iron gate,” dragoman, and salt commissioner; but
the command of the castle of Sant’ Angelo, which included some petty judicial
authority, passed in time into the hands of the Council. Later on, too, the
Council elected a species of cabinet, called the Conclave and composed of the
three “annual judges,” the four syndics, and five other officials, whose number
was fixed in the seventeenth century, and whose meetings were held with closed
doors.
The dependencies of the colony on the mainland
likewise furnished posts, some of which were in the gift of the Council, and
all were held by Corfiote nobles, usually for a year. Butrinto was the most
important of these stations, both strategically and economically, for it was
not only “the guardian and right eye” of Corfu, but yielded from its fisheries,
once the property of Cicero’s friend, Atticus, 1300 ducats a year. More
interesting, however, from Byron’s noble lines and from its dramatic history in
the early days of the British protectorate, when official ignorance of
geography abandoned it to the Turks, was “Parga’s shore” —an outpost boldly
occupied on his own responsibility by the Venetian bailie of Corfu in 1401, and
accepted, after some hesitation, by the republic. This hesitation was not
unwarranted, for, despite its poetic name, the practical Venetians found that
the place, whose sugar had proved so remunerative to Count Nicholas of
Cephalonia a century before, now cost more than it was worth, and accordingly
several times urged the inhabitants to emigrate over the narrow channel to the
islet of Antipaxo, where they enjoyed the right of tilling the land, or even to
Corfu, where uncultivated ground was always at their disposal. But then, as in
1819, the Pargians showed a touching, if inconvenient, attachment to their
ancient home, which was well situated for purposes of piracy, and they combined
devotion to Venice, from whom they had obtained excellent terms, with the
lucrative traffic of selling the weapons sent for their defence to the
neighbouring Turks. The governorship of Parga, at first bestowed on a Corfiote
noble for life and then placed at the disposition of the Council, was, at the
petition of the Pargians, in 1511,taken from that body and transferred to the
Venetian authorities of Corfu: but it was ultimately restored to the Council.
The post could not, however, have been either lucrative or easy; for out of his
exiguous salary the governor had to provide each Pargian family with five
measures of salt a year, and each priest and local magnate with a dinner on
Christmas eve and at Epiphany, while a local council of thirty-two managed most
of the affairs of this small community, and looked after its spiritual welfare.
All the inhabitants were soldiers, and many of them pirates, and they were
known to imprison a Venetian governor, just as the Albanians of today besiege
a Turkish Vali, till they could get redress. At the same time as Parga, Corfu
acquired the castles of Saiada and Phanari, which with La Bastia, Suboto, and
Strovili made up the continental dependencies of the island in the fifteenth
century. For a brief period Lepanto was placed under the jurisdiction of Corfu.Under Venetian protection, too, were the monks who inhabited the
ancient home of the harpies, the Strivali islands, where Theodore Ldskaris and
Irene had long ago established a Greek monastery of the Redeemer. Thither in
the thirteenth century the Benedictines had gone, and on one occasion we find
the pope appointing the prior of “Our Lady of Stropharia”. When, however, the
Greeks recovered Achaia, the Emperor John VI restored the monastery of the
Redeemer. Every passing ship reverently greeted and gave alms to the monks,
whose exploits against the Turks who had dared to set foot on their wind-swept
solitude enhanced the prestige of their sacred habit among pilgrims on their
way to the Holy Land.
The ecclesiastical policy of the Venetians was always
less bigoted than that of other Catholic powers; and while, as Catholics, they
continued to give precedence to their own Church, which in Corfu became a
perquisite of the great Venetian families, they never forgot that the interests
of the republic were of more importance than those of the papacy. Accordingly, they
studiously prevented any encroachments on the part of either the oecumenical
patriarch or the pope, fearing the political influence of the one and the
theological fanaticism of the other. The externals of the Angevin
ecclesiastical system were therefore retained as being well adapted to this
cautious policy. The head of the Orthodox church was still called “chief priest”,
while the title of archbishop was reserved for the aristocratic Venetian who
was the head of the Catholic clergy. The “chief priest” was elected by thirty
chosen members of the General Assembly and by the “sacred band” of the
thirty-two city priests, whose numbers, however, in the later Venetian period,
were really only twenty. His term of office was five years, at the end of which
time, if not re-elected, he sank into the ranks of the ordinary clergy, from
whom he was then only distinguished by his crimson sash. Merit had, as a rule,
less to do with his election than his relationship to a noble family and the
amount of the pecuniary arguments which he applied to the pockets of the
electors, and for which he recouped himself by his gains while in office. In
each of the four bailiwicks into which Corfu was still divided, and in the
island of Paxo, then, as now, a part of the Corfiote diocese, under his
jurisdiction, while he was dependent upon no other ecclesiastical authority
than the oecumenical patriarch, with whom, however, he was only allowed to
correspond through the medium of the Venetian bailie at Constantinople. He had
his retinue of officials with high-sounding Byzantine titles; he enjoyed
considerable honours; and from his decision in ecclesiastical cases there was
no appeal. Two liberal popes, Leo X and Paul III, expressly forbade any
interference with the religious services of the Greeks on the part of the Latin
archbishop, and the doges more than once upheld the ancient charter of the city
priests and the privileges of “the decarchy” of the thirty-three rural popes.
At the same time, measures were taken to prevent the increase in the number of
Greek priests, monks, and churches, which gave the Venetians cause for alarm,
because they were well aware that to the Greeks politics and religion are
inseparable. This was especially the case, when numbers of fugitive priests
sought refuge in the island after the capture of Constantinople and the Morea.
But, in spite of all regulations, the Orthodox church kept alive the national
feeling in the island. Mixed marriages were allowed ; and, as the children
usually became Orthodox, it is not surprising to learn that twenty years before
the close of the Venetian occupation there were only two noble Latin families
which still adhered to the Catholic faith.
It was a natural result of the Venetian policy that
there was less bitterness in Corfu than in most other places between the
adherents of the two religions. The Catholics took part in the religious
processions of the Orthodox; the college of thirty-two priests on the eve of
Christmas and Epiphany delivered an eulogy of Venetian rule at the bailie’s
palace, whereupon two condemned prisoners were released to them, after the
fashion of Barabbas. When the body of St Spiridion was carried round the town,
the Venetian authorities and many of the garrison paid their respects to the
sacred relics; twenty-one guns were fired from the Old Fortress, and the ships
in the harbour saluted. The Orthodox clergy reciprocated these attentions by
meeting the Catholics in the church of St Arsenios, the tenth century bishop
who had been the first metropolitan of Corfu, where the discordant chanting of
Greeks and Latins represented their theological concord, and by praying for the
pope and the Latin archbishop at the annual banquet in the latter’s palace.
They were ready, also, to excommunicate refractory villages at the bidding of the Government,
and this practice, which filled the superstitious peasants with terror, was one of the greatest social abuses of Corfu. It is not quite extinct in
Greece even now.
The position of the Corfiote Jews, though far less
favourable than that of the Orthodox, was much better than that of the Hebrew
colonies in other parts of the Venetian dominions. In the very first days of the Venetian occupation an
order was issued to the officials of the republic,
bidding them to behave well to the Jewish community and to put no heavier
burdens upon them than upon the rest of the islanders. Many of the Venetian
governors found it convenient to borrow not only money, but furniture, plate,
and liveries from them. That they increased in numbers—owing to the Jewish
immigration from Spain and Portugal in 1492 and from Naples, Apulia, and Calabria half a century later—may be
inferred from Marmora’s statement that in 1665 there were about
500 Jewish houses in Corfu; and the historian, who shared to the full the
dislike of the Hebrew which has always characterised the Greeks and has been always cordially reciprocated, naively remarks
that the Corfiote Jews would be rich if they were let alone.They
paid none of the usual taxes levied on Jewish banks at Venice; and when, by the
decree of 1572, they were banished from Venetian territory, a special exemption
was granted to the Jews of Corfu. They were allowed to practice there as
advocates, with permission to defend Christians no less than members of their
own race. They had their own council, and elected their own officials,
representing the Greek and the “Apulian” or “Spanish” synagogues— for from 1540 there were two—who
managed the internal affairs of the ghetto. Outside its limits they were allowed to own real
property worth no more than 4000 ducats between them—indeed, public opinion
would have left them no land but their graves—and they were expressly forbidden
to have serfs, or to take land or villas on lease, with the exception of one
house for the personal use of the lessee. But the effect of this enactment was
nullified by means of mortgages ; and if a Jew wanted to invest money in houses
he had no difficulty in finding a Christian who would purchase or rent them
with borrowed Jewish capital. Nor was it easy to confine the growing Jewish
colony within its separate quarter. When the old ghetto, the mount of the Jews”, was pulled down in
1524 to make room for the fortifications, orders were given to choose a new
site; but sixty years later we find a Venetian report complaining that they
were living among the Christians and even in the castle. Later plans of the
city show us, however, the ghetto marked in the same place and called by the
same name as the still surviving Hebratkd? At the same time, the Jews had to
submit to some degrading restrictions of costume. They were compelled to wear a
yellow mark on the breast, as a badge of servitude, and a Venetian ordinance naively
remarks that this was “a substitute for the custom of stoning, which does so much
injury to the houses.” True, a money payment to the treasury secured a
dispensation from the necessity of wearing these stigmas; but it is obvious
from the complaints of their envoys that the Jews were badly treated by the
natives, who refused them access to the principal well and harried them while
they were doing their marketing. Absurd tales, too, were current about them.
The old fable that Judas Iscariot was a native of the island, was still told to
travellers, who were shown a lineal descendant of the arch-traitor. They were
expected to offer a copy of the law of Moses to a new Latin archbishop, who
sometimes delighted the other Corfiotes by lecturing them on their
shortcomings. Finally, they were forbidden to indulge in public processions—an
injunction perhaps quite as much in their own interest as in that of the public
peace.
The feudal system continued to form the basis of
Corfiote society, and became the bulwark of Venetian rule. The new masters of
the island confirmed the Angevin barons in their fiefs, but created few more,
so that towards the end of the Venetian period the original twenty-four
baronies had dwindled
to from twelve to fifteen, among them two still bearing the names of the extinct clans of Altavilla and Sant’ Ippolito, one
or two held by old Greek families, and the rest by Venetian aristocrats long
settled in the island. For as the “Customs of Romania” continued to prevail, it
followed that the Salic law did not obtain in Corfu; accordingly, there, as
elsewhere, many baronies passed into the hands of women, who usually found
husbands in the Venetian aristocracy. In theory each baron had to keep at least
one good horse and a certain number of retainers for the defence of the island,
and to present himself with them for review in the castle on the ist of May. We
have an account of the brave show made by the barons, then fourteen in number,
in 1515; but in practice this chivalrous custom was usually allowed to lapse. A less picturesque but far more efficacious
body was the armed band of the peasants, the so-called cernide, which guarded
the coast and at times furnished the republic with some of her best seamen. In
this body all between the ages of twenty and sixty-five were bound to serve. A
clause in the charter of Parga specially stipulated that the natives of that
rock-fortress should only be liable for service in defence of their own home.
By far the most interesting of the fiefs was that of
the gypsies, who were about a hundred in number and were subject to the
exclusive jurisdiction of the baron upon whom their fief had been bestowed—“an
office,” as Marmora says, “of not a
little gain and of very great honour.” Their feudal lord could inflict on them
any punishment short of death—a privilege denied to all his peers; they were
his men and not those of the Government, which could not compel them to serve
in the galleys or render the usual feudal services of the other peasants. They
had their own military commander, similar to the drungarius of the gypsies at
Nauplia, and every May-day they marched, under his leadership, to the sounds of
drums and fifes, bearing aloft their baron’s banner, and carrying a May-pole
decked with flowers, to the square in front of the house where the great man
lived. There they set up their pole and sang a curious song in honour of their
lord, who provided them with refreshment and on the morrow received from them
their dues. Originally granted to the family of Abitabuli, whose name perhaps
came from the habitacula, or encampments of these vagrants, and then held by
the house of Goth, the fief of the gypsies was conferred in 1540, after the
great siege of Corfu, upon Antdnios Eparchos, a versatile genius, at once poet,
Hellenist, and soldier, as compensation for his losses and as the reward of his
talents. By a curious anomaly the jurisdiction of the gypsy baron extended over
the peasants of the continental dependencies of Corfu. It is therefore
possible that the serfs called vaginiti, whom we found under the Angevins, and
who emigrated from the mainland, and paid a registration fee on their arrival,
were gypsies.
The Corfiote serfs were of three classes, those of the
republic —for Venice had domain lands in the island, which were usually let to
the highest bidder on a twenty-nine years’ lease—, those of the Latin Church,
and those of the barons. The Corfiote peasants, though they sometimes amassed
sufficient money to enfranchise themselves, and though Venice often lent a
ready ear to their grievances, were worse off under the feudal system than
their fellows on the mainland under Turkish rule. They had no political rights
whatever; they were summed up in the capitulations at the time of the Venetian
occupation, together with “the other movable and immovable goods” of their
lords; and it is no wonder that they sometimes ran away to escape the tyranny
of a hard master. The peasants on the domain lands had a lighter lot than the
other two classes; though all except the priests were liable to forced labour,
they could obtain exemption on payment of a very small sum. Their chief
grievances were that they were compelled to labour on Government works in the
town at times when they wanted to be sowing their corn or gathering their
grapes; that they had to cut firewood for the bailie, and to provide oil even
in years when the olives did not bear. Occasionally we hear of a peasants’
insurrection against their oppressors, and Marmora remarks in his time that
“the peasants are never contented; they rise against their lords on the
smallest provocation.” Yet, until the last century of her rule, Venice had
little trouble with the inhabitants. She kept the nobles in good humour by
granting them political privileges, titles, and the entrance to her navy; and,
so long as the Turk was a danger, she was compelled, from motives of prudence,
to pay a due regard to their wishes. Moreover, by an almost complete neglect of
education, the republic was able to prevent the growth of an intellectual
proletariat, such as in the British times furnished an ample supply of
political agitators.
During the four centuries of her rule, Venice did
practically nothing for the mental development of the Corfiotes. No public
schools were founded; for, as Count Viaro Capodistrias informed the British
Parliament much later, the Venetian Senate never allowed such institutions to
be established in the Ionian islands. When the Catholic
archbishop wanted an excuse for remaining in Venice, he pleaded that he could
not study theology at Corfu. The administration was content to pay a few
teachers of Greek and Italian; and to grant the Ionian youths the special
privilege of taking a degree at the University of Padua without examination.
Moreover, the Corfiote student after his return soon forgot what he had
learned, retaining only the varnish of culture. There were exceptions, however,
to this low standard. When Cyriacus of Ancona visited Greece, he was able to
purchase Greek manuscripts at Corfu. Others were copied by the exiles who fled
there after the conquest of the Morea. In the sixteenth century there was
quite a number of Corfiote writers—poets like Eparchos and Triboles, the
traveller Noukios, the theologian Kartanos ; but they mostly wrote abroad. It
was a Corfiote who founded at Venice, in 1621, the Greek school, called
Flangineion, after the name of its founder, Flangines, which did so much for
the improvement of Greek education, and which still exists by the side of S.
Giorgio dei Greci. But even in the latest Venetian period there were few
facilities for obtaining knowledge in Corfu. No wonder that the Corfiotes were
easier to manage in those days than in the more enlightened British times, when
newspapers abounded and some of the best pens in Southern Europe were ready to
lampoon the British Protectorate.
The long Venetian domination exercised a natural influence
on the language, especially in the town. At the time of the annexation, the
islanders had stipulated, as we saw, that a Greek notary should be appointed,
as under the Angevins, for serving writs in Greek on the Greeks, and a Greek
interpreter formed part of the Venetian administration. From 1524 dates the
appointment of the first Greek teacher. That Greek continued to be used in
private documents, while Venetian or Latin was the official language, is clear
from the will of one of the barons, which has been preserved, and which is
drawn up in Greek, though the testator was of Frankish origin. But at the time
of the battle of Lepanto, when Venice was particularly anxious to conciliate
her Greek subjects, the bailie issued a Greek translation of his proclamations
for the special benefit of the country folk. It was among them, of course, that
the language of Hellas held its firmest roots, and even today it is almost the
only tongue understood in the country-districts of Corfu, while Italian is readily
spoken in the town. In the Venetian times, the dialect of the rulers was the
conversational medium of good society, and the young Corfiote, fresh from his
easily won laurels at Padua, looked down with contempt upon the noblest and
most enduring of all languages, which had become solely the speech of the
despised peasants, Still, nature will out, and Greek idioms occasionally
penetrated the Venetian dialect of Corfu. But it was only towards the close of
the Venetian domination that Greek became fashionable. Two Corfiotes, Eugenios
Boulgaris and Nikephoros Theotokes were the pioneers of modern Greek, and in
one of Goldoni’s comedies we are told that the street-boys of Corfu sang
ditties in that language.
The Venetian flag naturally attracted a far larger
amount of shipping to the island, which served as a half-way house for galleys
between Venice and Crete, and a traveller, who visited it in 1480, says that
the harbour “was never empty.” But these visits of the fleet led to many fatal
brawls, while Ionian commerce was hampered by the selfish colonial policy then
prevalent in Europe, which aimed at concentrating all colonial trade in the
metropolis, through which Corfiote exports had to pass. This naturally led to a
vast amount of smuggling, even now rampant in Greece. Among the exports we read
of valonea, cotton, all sorts of fruit, and salt, which was sent to the other
Venetian colonies in Dalmatia and Albania; a considerable amount of wine was
produced; and the oil-trade, now the staple industry of Corfii, was so greatly
fostered by a grant of twelve gold pieces for every plantation of 100 olive
trees, that in the last half century of the Venetian rule there were nearly
2,000,000 of these trees in the island. Even the now bare islet of Vido, which
the French made a solitude and called it lie de la Paix, was, in Marmora’s
time, so thickly planted with olives, that it “looked like a forest swimming
in the waves”. Yet Corfu then, as now, presented the paradox of great
fertility combined with great poverty. When the corn raised on the mainland was
exported abroad, instead of being kept for the consumption of the colony, the
Corfiotes were in despair, for their island did not produce nearly enough grain
for the whole year; hence its export was more than once forbidden by the
paternal administration, and public granaries in which officials were ordered
to deposit a part of their pay, were established to mitigate the severe
famines. The taxes consisted of a tithe of the oil, the crops, and the
agricultural produce; a money payment on the wine sold; a “ chimneytax” on
each house; and export duties of 15 per cent, on oil, 9 per cent, on salt, and
4 per cent, on other articles. There were also import duties of 6 per cent, on
Venetian, and of 8 per cent, on foreign, goods. The salt-pans of Levkimme
formed a Government monopoly, and the importation of foreign salt was punished
by banishment. The fisheries of Butrinto were let, as we saw, to a Corfiote,
and yielded 1300 ducats a year. Corfiote merchants received the same treatment in Venice
as those of Candia and the other Greek
colonies, and the bezzoni and tornesi of the Venetian mint did duty in Corfu.
It is to Venice that Corfu, almost more than any other
place in Greece, owes its present appearance. The streets, the fortifications, the houses are all Venetian rather
than Greek; indeed, in some respects, the traveller just landed there can scarcely fancy that he has set foot on Greek soil, for
neither forty-three years of union with Greece, nor fifty years of British
protection, nor yet the brief interregnum of French and Russian rule, have
succeeded in removing the mark of Venice. The lion of St Mark still watches
over the walls ; from his mouth the water still flows at
the fountain of Kardaki, where Venetian ships used to fill their tanks; the
castles still retain their Venetian names, a Corfiote village on the slopes of
Pantokrator is still called Enetia. The whole fabric of modern Corfiote
society, the conditions of land tenure, and the habits of the people are still
largely based upon the Venetian polity. The
titles, which the lonians almost alone of Greeks still use, are relics of the days when the shrewd statesmen of the mercantile
republic, like our modern Prime Ministers, closed the mouths of obstreperous subjects or rewarded loyal services by the bestowal of
honorary distinctions. Many of the most ardently Greek opponents of the British Protectorate bore aggressively Italian names,
and among the modern Corfiote Members of Parliament there are some whose Italian
origin is scarcely concealed by the classical terminations of the Greek declensions.
If we would figure to ourselves what Corfu was like during the first 150 years of the Venetian
domination, that is to say, up to the period of
the first great Turkish siege, we must remember that the town, despite the resolutions of the Venetian
Government, remained unwalled, and that its sole defences were, as in Angevin times, the two fortified peaks of
what is now known
as the Fortezza Vecchia, then
distinguished as the “old” and “new castles” (the latter built by Charles I of Anjou), whose commanders changed every sixteen
months. Familiar landmarks were the two towers, in which the councillors
resided, the “tower of the iron gate”, the church of St Nicholas, and that of
the Holy Apostles. In 1394, a Corfiote baron of Neapolitan origin,
Pietro Capece, built the Catholic convent and church of the Annunziata, the
oldest of all the extant Latin churches in the town, which he subsequently
placed under the care of the bailie, and which contains many tombs and
inscriptions, mostly relating to Corfiotes who fell in the Turkish wars.
Another church, that of St Michael, attributed by some to the Despots of Epiros
whose name it bore, is said by Marmora to have been perhaps founded on the day
when the islanders resolved to accept the sway of Venice. But the most famous
shrine in the island was that of Our Lady of Cassopo, to which homeward-bound
mariners were wont to pay their respects, and which rose on the site of the
altar of Zeus, before which Nero had inaugurated his artistic tour of the Greek
provinces. Around it there had grown up a much-frequented market, which was
free from all dues.1 2 Owing to the number of poor and infirm
pilgrims who passed through the island to and from the Holy Land, a hospice was
provided for their accommodation ; but towards the end of the fifteenth century
their usual abode was the cloister of the Bare-footed Friars. Upon travellers
from the north, the town did not at that time make a favourable impression. The
streets were “narrow, dark, and smelly,” the place swarmed with “abject
persons,” and the pious pilgrim was offended by the contrast between the
meanness of the archiepiscopal residence and the numbers of the Jews. Yet at
the time of the siege we hear of the “beautiful and splendid houses” of the
suburbs and of the splendid Avrame Palace by the sea-shore—a mansion adorned
with fine marble statues, and standing in a lovely garden. It is interesting to
note that visitors were shown the rock which Pliny the elder had long ago
identified with “the ship of Ulysses”. Another spot associated with classical
Corfu, the ancient Hyllaean harbour, now received its modern name of
Chalikidpoulo from the family of that name to which it belonged.
The Turkish peril had not become acute at the time of
the Venetian occupation. The neighbours of the new Venetian colony were either
Italian princelets, like the Tocchi, who ruled over the other Ionian islands,
and like Esau Buondelmonti, the Despot of Joannina, or else Albanian chieftains
who had established themselves at various points in Epiros after the break-up
of the Greek Despotat It was the policy of the republic to play off the
Italians against the Arnauts and the Arnauts against the Italians. Thus, when Esau
was captured by the Albanians, the bailie of Corfu intervened to obtain his
release and entertained him in the castle; while, on his death, the Corfiotes
assisted the Albanians to occupy Joannina, rather than that it should fall into
the hands of his ambitious nephew, Carlo Tocco, who was a vassal of the King of
Naples to boot. The latter’s aggressive and successful policy in Aetolia and
Akarnania led to occasional friction with Venice, but never endangered the
safety of Corfu.
It was otherwise, however, with the Genoese. These
commercial rivals of Venice did not abandon all hope of obtaining so desirable
a possession until some time after the establishment of the Venetian
protectorate. Twice, in 1403 and again in 1432, they attacked Corfii, but on
both occasions without success. The first time, under the leadership of Marshal
Boucicaut, they tried to capture the impregnable castle of Sant’ Angelo, which
was courageously defended by a Corfiote noble, and were routed by the island
militia with great slaughter near the village of Doukades. The second attempt
was more serious. The invaders effected a landing, and had already ravaged the
fertile island and burned the borgo and suburbs of the capital, when on the
seventh day a sudden sally of the townsfolk and the garrison checked their
further advance. Many of the Genoese were taken prisoners, while those who
succeeded in escaping to their vessels were pursued and severely handled by the
Venetian fleet. The further attempts of Genoese privateers to waylay merchantmen
on their passage between Corfu and Venice were frustrated, and soon the
islanders had nothing more to fear from these Christian enemies of their
protectors. The raid had proved what Venetian statesmen had once doubted—the
fidelity of the Greeks; but the loss of life and property which it had caused,
and which was intensified by visitations of the plague, led the Government to
grant five years’ exemption from all services and dues to all who would settle
in the island.
Meanwhile, however, the Turks had been rapidly gaining
ground on the mainland opposite. The first serious alarm arose when they
captured the harbour of Valona, one of the keys of the Adriatic, from Regina
Balsha, the lady of the place. In 1430 Joannina fell, and in the following year
the Turks made their first attack upon Corfu; but the repulse with which they
met discouraged them from renewing the attempt for more than a century.
Henceforth, however, especially after the disappearance of the Tocchi from the
continent, the continental dependencies of Corfu were constantly exposed to the
danger of Turkish or Albanian attack. The people of Parga, in particular,
suffered terribly for their devotion to Venice; their homes were captured,
their wives and children carried off, and it required a vigorous effort by the
Corfiotes to recover the rocky fortress, which was now their outpost against
the Turk.
After the fall of Constantinople and the subsequent
collapse of the Christian states of Greece, Corfu became the refuge of many
distinguished exiles. From the imperial city came the famous family of the
Theotokai, which has given so many leading men to the island of its adoption. From the Morea fled the last Despot Thomas Palaiologos with his wife and
family, the historian Phrantzfe, and the ancestor of the Corfiote historian
Marmora. Phrantzes wrote the story of his troubled times at the instance of
some noble Corfiotes in the repose of the Phaeacian island and his remains,
with those of his master’s consort, the Despoina Caterina, sleep in the church
of SS. Jason and Sosipater. So great was the influx of Greek priests that
Venice became seriously alarmed lest they should undermine the loyalty of her
Corfiote subjects, and issued an order that the ancient “college of 32” should
hold no more meetings, and that all popes settled in the island during the last
ten years should leave it. But the need of humouring the Greeks in view of her
own struggle with the Turks induced her to pursue her usual tolerant policy.
The religious enthusiasm of the Greeks increased all
the more, because at that time Corfu became the shrine of her famous saint,
Spiridion, a Cypriote bishop who took a prominent part at the council of Nice,
and whose remains had been transferred to Constantinople. A priest, named
Kalochairetes, brought the holy man’s body and that of St Theodora, the consort
of the Iconoclast Emperor Thedphilos, to Corfu in 1456, and upon his death his
two eldest sons became proprietors of the male saint’s remains, and his
youngest son received those of the female, which he bestowed on the community.
The body of St Spiridion ultimately passed to the distinguished family of
Boulgaris, to which it still belongs, and is preserved in the church of the
saint, just as that of St Theodora reposes in the cathedral. Four times a year
the body of St Spiridion is carried in procession, in commemoration of his
alleged services in having twice delivered the island from plague, once from
famine, and once from the Turks. His name is the most widespread in Corfu, and
the number of boys called “Spiro” is legion.
During the operations against the Turks at this period
the Corfiotes distinguished themselves by their active co-operation with their
protectors. We find them fighting twice at Parga and twice at Butrinto; during
the long Turco-Venetian war, which broke out in 1463, we hear of their prowess
at the isthmus of Corinth, beneath the walls of Patras, and behind the ramparts
of Lepanto; it was a Corfiote who temporarily gained for the republic the
castle of Strovili on the mainland, and even in her purely Italian wars the
islanders assisted. The privilege of electing the captain of the Corfiote
war-galleys was the reward of this loyalty. Meanwhile, headed by their
archbishop, they worked on their own fortifications, and, regardless of
archaeology, found in their ancient city, Palaiopolis, a handy quarry. It
seems, indeed, as if the words of Marmorawere then no mere servile
phrase: “Corfu was ever studying the means of keeping herself a loyal subject
of the Venetians”.
CHAPTER XVI
THE IONIAN ISLANDS UNDER VENICE (1485-1540)
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