Venice and its Story Part 7

Foscari was answered in the Senate by Tomaso Mocenigo, in whose mouth Sanudo places a long oration. The venerable Doge after reviewing the story of the Milanese troubles, ranged through the whole of sacred and profane history to enforce his plea for peace. He prayed the fathers to be content with defending their present frontiers if attacked: "Let the young procurator beware of the fate of Pisa that waxed rich and great by peace and good government but fell by war." He summarised the national balance-sheet and the incidence of her trade. "Let the _procurator giovane_ remember that commerce was the basis of Venetian prosperity, peace her greatest interest. Let them trade with Milan, not fight her.

They were everywhere welcomed as the purveyors of the world; their islands were a city of refuge from oppression." He then lifted his hearers to the higher spheres of religion and ethics, and warned them that G.o.d would wreak vengeance on an aggressive and unrighteous nation.

Foscari was intriguing for the reversion of the Dogeship. He had been chief of the Quarantia; three times a _capo_ of the Ten. His influence was great among the patricians, by reason of his lavish distribution of money, when procurator, to decayed gentlemen whose daughters he dowered from the public charities. A few days after his speech in the Senate, Mocenigo lay on his sick bed; some senators stood around him, and the Doge feeling his end draw nigh again took up his parable and solemnly entreated them as they loved their fatherland not to elect Foscari as his successor; to preserve the priceless inheritance he was about to leave them; and to keep their hands from their neighbours, for G.o.d would destroy Venice if she waged an unjust war. Let them live in peace, fear nought and mistrust the Florentines. But in truth Mocenigo's warning came a century too late. The Nemesis of Empire was already upon Venice.

She was impelled to grasp more and more in order to retain what she had already won. The time had pa.s.sed when so great was the fame of the incorruptible justice[47] of the Fathers that sixty envoys of princes might be found waiting in her halls to ask the judgment of the Senate on important matters of State.

Foscari was elected after a close contest. At his proclamation the last feeble echo of the popular voice was drowned. The Grand Chancellor, reviewing the old formula, asked of the _Quarant' uno_, "What if the choice is not pleasing to the people?" and himself answered, "Let us simply say we have elected such a one." Foscari was presented to the people in St Mark's with the maimed formula, "_Quest' e il vostro doge._" "_Se vi piacera_" was no longer heard. But the coronation festivities were more gorgeous than ever and lasted a whole year. The responsibility of power and the strained relations with the Emperor, for a time sobered the impetuous Foscari. Once and again the Florentine envoys were dismissed unsatisfied. After suffering a severe defeat at Zagognara, the Florentines for the third time appealed to Venice, and in an impa.s.sioned oration threatened that if the Venetians permitted Filippo Visconti to make himself King of North Italy, they would help him to become Emperor. Meanwhile Carmagnola, who had risen from a Piedmontese hind to be an arbiter of States, had roused Visconti's suspicions and fled to Venice, where 30,000 ducats of his fortune were safely invested in the funds. The Signory paid him a handsome retaining fee and sent him to Treviso. Foscari's opportunity was now come.

Carmagnola had been made a senator, and in supporting the Doge's war policy laid bare the weak parts in Visconti's position. It was to be an easy and glorious campaign. The terms of the alliance with Florence were drawn up. On February 19th, 1426, Carmagnola was appointed Captain-General, and on March 3rd laid siege to Brescia.

Carmagnola proved a careful, not to say leisurely tactician, and professed much reliance on divine aid. April came, and the Captain-General asked permission to take the waters at Abano for his health's sake. The Senate consulted physicians and suggested that his presence at the siege was essential, and that an aperient might meet the case. The Captain-General did not take the hint, and spent a pleasant time at the baths. Again in November the delicate state of his health necessitated another journey to Abano. At length Brescia surrendered.

Visconti offered to negotiate, and on the last day of the year a treaty signed at S. Giorgio Maggiore gave the whole province of Brescia and a large sub-Alpine territory to the Republic.

[Ill.u.s.tration: CLOISTER OF S. GREGORIO]

In February of the next year Carmagnola took the field with the finest army ever seen in Italy, for Visconti had recommenced hostilities in the Bresciano. It was a fair country. The gentle Italian spring gave way to l.u.s.ty summer. A battle had been fought in which the Republic suffered a heavy loss in _horses_; in another some unfortunate cavaliers, including the Captain-General himself, were dangerously hurt by falling from their chargers during a surprise attack. The Senate protested, and urged greater energy and decision. In October Carmagnola's professional pride was stung. He bestirred himself, won a brilliant victory at Macol and captured 8000 cavalry. History is silent as to the dead and wounded.

He was lavishly rewarded, made a Count, and given a house in Venice and an estate in the country. The Senate now advised him to follow up his advantage, strike at Milan and end the war. But Carmagnola's aim was to live, not to perish by the sword. The Republic was an excellent paymaster, and it were sorry economy to bring so profitable a business to a premature conclusion. Moreover, his adversary of to-day might be his patron of to-morrow, and his delicate const.i.tution again required the stimulus of the baths. Visconti, too, was anxious for breathing time, and began intriguing with his former general. In 1428 another instrument of peace gave the province of Bergamo to Venice. Carmagnola received princely honours but soon gave in his resignation. The Republic offered him a salary of one thousand ducats a month in peace or war, and all ransoms and prize-money when on active service. The promise of the dukedom of Milan was held before him, but when the third Milanese war began the General's strategy was more exasperating than ever. He had no plan of campaign, and was known to be in correspondence with Visconti.

The patient Senate resolved at last to act. Their members were bound to secrecy, and the Ten with a _Zonta_ of twenty Senators were ordered to deal with the case warily but vigorously. Carmagnola's arrest was voted.

Giovanni de' Imperi, secretary of the Ten, a pallid-faced notary, left for the camp with instructions to invite the General to Venice for a conference with the Doge. If he failed to take the bait, the secretary bore letters-patent addressed to the staff of the army, commanding them to concert measures for the arrest and detention of their chief. It was a perilous mission, for the mighty Captain-General held the State in the hollow of his hands. But Giovanni of the pale face and nerves of steel successfully achieved his purpose, and Carmagnola left for Venice. On his arrival he was met by eight n.o.bles whose business it was to divert him from his home and lead him to meet the Doge. When he reached the palace the secretary of the Ten disappeared, and Leonardo Mocenigo, procurator of the _Collegio_, informed the General's suite that their master was honoured by an invitation to dine with the Doge and that they might retire. As the guest pa.s.sed through the apartments he noticed with some concern that the doors were closed behind him. On asking for the Doge he was answered that his Serenity was confined to his room with kidney disease, and would see him to-morrow. At the _Sala delle quattro porte_ Carmagnola turned to go home: the officer touched his shoulder and pointed to a corridor that led to the prisons, saying, "This way, my lord." "But that is not the way!" exclaimed the great captain. "Yes, yes; quite right," repeated the officer. A signal was given. Guards surrounded him and he was hustled down the stairs, crying, "I am a dead man." The eagle was snared. At the trial Carmagnola was put to the question. As the executioner prepared the cord, Carmagnola pointed to the arm that had been broken in the service of the Republic. A brazier was applied to his feet instead. On May 5th, 1432, the unhappy soldier was led with a gag in his mouth to his doom between the red columns.

After three blows his head fell from his shoulders.

The awful tragedy had been planned and executed with consummate skill and resolution. Two hundred officials were cognisant of the process. Not one opened his mouth to betray the secret. From the time the victim left Vicenza he was practically under arrest, though this he never suspected.

The remains were buried in the Frari and afterwards removed to Milan.

His widow was pensioned and his daughters were dowered. Four years later another enemy of the Republic lost his head between the red columns. The only surviving son of old Carrara had been convicted by the Ten of an attempt to plot an insurrection in Padua.

[Ill.u.s.tration: STATUE OF BARTOLOMEO COLLEONI]

During the long remaining years of Foscari's reign the resources of Venice were drained by a succession of costly campaigns in defence of her conquests. The most famous condottieri, Gonzaga of Mantua, Gattamelata, Francesco Sforza, and Bartolomeo Colleoni were employed, at enormous expense. At length, in 1454, weary and exhausted by the financial, if not by the mortal drain of thirty years' war, and sobered by the appalling news of the capture of Constantinople by the Turks, the three chief belligerents--Venice, Florence, and Milan--laid down their arms and signed a defensive alliance against any power that should disturb the peace of Italy. The Venetians had held, and even added to, their conquests. Ravenna was occupied in 1440 and the last of the Polentas, father and son died in exile in Crete. Although St Mark's Lion never looked down from his pillar on a Milanese Piazza, Venice had won the primacy of North Italy. In fifty years she had annexed eleven provinces--Treviso, Vicenza and the _Sette Comuni_, Verona, Padua, the Friuli, Brescia, Bergamo, Feltre, Belluno, Crema, Ravenna. Her yoke was easy. The subject peoples had small reason to regret the change of masters. The Brescians endured the horrors of a three years' siege rather than revert to Milanese dominion. The Signory "that could not sleep till Brescia were relieved" organised the transport of a fleet of thirty vessels across the mountains, a distance of two hundred miles in mid-winter, lowered them down the precipitous flank of Monte Baldo and launched them on Lake Carda, a stupendous feat of engineering skill and energy.

Venice never denied her enlightened and paternal rule, which embraced even the cut of ladies' dresses and the duties of wet nurses. But St Mark's "insatiable greed" had aroused the jealousies of the transalpine monarchies. The League of Cambrai, which broke down for ever the power of Venice on the mainland, was a direct outcome of Foscari's policy.

While men's minds were pre-occupied with the Milanese war and the news of the occupation of part of the Morea by the Turks, a grave domestic scandal weighed upon the Fathers. Charges of corruption were openly made against the Foscari, and in February 1445 the Doge's only surviving son, Jacopo, was denounced to the Ten for having accepted bribes to use his influence with his father in the allocation of State appointments. The young Foscari was a cultured, but pleasure-loving n.o.ble, whose magnificent marriage festivities in 1441 had aroused even the critical Venetians to enthusiasm. He was charged with "having regard neither to G.o.d nor man, and accepting gifts of money and jewels against the law,"

and cited to appear on the 18th before the Tribunal of the Ten, who were a.s.sisted by a _Zonta_ of ten n.o.bles. The arrest of his valet, Gaspero, on the previous day had, however, aroused Jacopo's suspicions; and when the officer of the Ten tried to serve the warrant, it was discovered that Foscari had fled to Trieste with all the money he could lay hands on. The tribunal having excluded the Doge and all his relations, proceeded to try the accused in default. The members were declared inviolable and permitted to wear arms. Jacopo was found guilty, and banished for life to Nauplia. The Dogaressa was refused permission to visit him at Trieste, and Marco Trevisano with a galley sent to deport him. Messer Jacopo, however, treated the warrant with contempt, and refused to embark. The price of contumacy was outlawry, and decapitation between the two columns. The Ten did not enforce the extreme penalty, and entreated the Doge to persuade his son to obey the law. But efforts were of no avail, and on April 7th the sentence was confirmed, and Jacopo's property confiscated.

For more than a year the outlaw had been living defiantly at Trieste, when fresh revelations led to the appointment of another _Zonta_ to deal further with the scandal. Five months pa.s.sed. Marco Trevisano died, and Jacopo fell sick at Trieste. The Ten thereupon resolved to accept, in the name of Jesus Christ, the excuses of the invalid for not proceeding to Nauplia, and to subst.i.tute his own country house near Treviso for the place of exile.

We hear nothing more of the case until April 1447, when a chest containing 2040 ducats and some silver plate was discovered, and proven to have been received by Jacopo from the Duke of Milan. The contents of the chest were confiscated, but no further action was taken. In September, the Doge presented a piteous pet.i.tion for his son's pardon.

The Ten resolved that, since the present critical state of public affairs demanded a prince with a clear and untroubled mind, Jacopo should be restored to his family, as an act of piety to our lord the Doge. Three years elapsed. On a November evening, as Ermolao Donato, one of the _Capi_ who had tried Jacopo, was leaving the palace after attending a meeting of the Senate, he was fatally stabbed. The Ten and a _Zonta_ met to investigate, but failed to penetrate the mystery. On January 2nd, 1451, a signed denunciation was found in the _Bocca del leone_. Jacopo Foscari was arrested, and put to the question. Incoherent muttering, which the Ten thought to be an incantation, was all that could be forced from his lips. The trial dragged on until March 26th, when Jacopo was declared, on purely circ.u.mstantial evidence, guilty of the murder, and banished to Canea, in Crete, where he was to report himself daily to the Podesta. The Doge was exhorted to patience, and on the 29th the condemned Jacopo was put on a galley that was sailing for Crete. In the June of 1456 important despatches in cypher from Canea came before the Ten. The home-sick and intolerant Foscari had written a letter to the Duke of Milan, asking him to intercede with the Signory, and another to the Turkish Sultan, begging that a vessel might be sent to Crete to abduct him from the island. Jacopo and all his household were cited to Venice. Before the Ten he frankly confessed all, and the sentence was then debated. A _Capo,_ Jacopo Loredano, proposed the death penalty. The motion was lost, and his relegation to Canea and a year's imprisonment were voted. His family were permitted to see him and Jacopo, bearing marks of the torture, was led into the room, where his father awaited him. The poor old Doge fell upon his son's neck, while Jacopo cried, "Father, father, I beseech you procure for me permission to return to my home." "Jacopo," answered the Doge, "thou[48]

must obey the will of the land, and strive no more." As the door closed on his son for ever, the miserable father flung himself upon a chair, uttering lamentations and moaning, "O! the great pity of it!" In six months came news from Canea: Jacopo Foscari was dead. The Doge never recovered from the blow. He secluded himself in his room, and sank into hopeless, sullen grief. The most urgent affairs of State could not divert him from his sorrow. The very Government was paralysed, and the Ten were called to devise a way out of the dead-lock. Having excluded the Doge's relations, after long debate they decided to invite the Doge in his great charity to take pity on the land and freely resign. They offered a pension of fifteen hundred ducats, and gave him a day to consider his answer. On the morrow, he would say neither yea nor nay, and complained of the unconst.i.tutional suggestion. A second deputation was no more successful. It was then intimated to the Doge that he must resign, and leave the palace within a week, or suffer the confiscation of his property.

[Ill.u.s.tration: A FRUIT STALL.]

On Sunday the 23rd of October, in the presence of the Ten and the chief officers of State, he silently drew the ducal ring from his finger. A _Capo_ broke it in pieces and removed the ducal cap from his head. The discrowned Foscari was bid to retire to his home in S. Pantaleone. As the Councillors were leaving the room he noticed that one of the Quarantia lingered awhile and gazed pityingly upon him. He called him, took his hand and asked: "Whose son art thou?" "I am the son of Marin Memo," was the reply. "He is my dear comrade," said the Doge. "Prithee bid him come to see me, for it will be a precious solace to me: we will visit the monasteries together." Early on the morrow Francesco Foscari left his apartments leaning on a crutched stick accompanied by his brother Marco, his only suite a few sobbing kinsmen and servants. As they neared the princ.i.p.al staircase Marco said: "It is well, your Serenity, that we go to the landing-stage by the other stairway which is covered." "Nay," answered Foscari, "I will descend by the same stairs up which I mounted to the Dogeship." Stripped of his honours, forsaken by his Councillors, bent beneath the weight of his eighty-four years and the long tenure of a great office, the humiliated Foscari tottered down those steps in silence, which more than the third of a century before he had climbed, erect, exultant, full of hope, amid the acclamation of a whole city.

[Ill.u.s.tration: BUST OF FRANCESCO FOSCARI]

The Great Council met the same day: the electoral machinery was set in motion and on the morrow, the 30th October, Pasquale Malipiero was chosen and proclaimed Doge two hours before sunset. Two days after, on All Saints' Day, the new Doge, and his Council were at ma.s.s at St Mark's when a messenger came in hot haste with the news that Francesco Foscari was dead. The Councillors gazed mutely at each other. The Ten were convoked and, p.r.i.c.ked perhaps by remorse at their severity, voted a magnificent and honourable funeral, the widow protesting against the mockery and declaring that she would sell her dowry to give her lord worthy burial. Wrapped in a mantle of cloth of gold; crowned with the ducal cap; sword by side and spurred with gold, all that remained of the great Doge Foscari lay in state in the hall of the Senate, guarded by four and twenty n.o.bles in scarlet robes to indicate that if the Doge were dead the Signory yet lived. The bier was borne by a picked body of sailors. Pasquale Malipiero, clothed as a simple senator; the officers of State; the clergy; the guilds followed. With solemn pomp the pageant went its way lighted by innumerable tapers along the Merceria and across the Rialto bridge to the Church of the Frari. The sumptuous monument, erected in the choir to his memory, by Ant. Riccio, still testifies to his fame. Those who would gaze on the striking, sensuous features of unhappy Doge Foscari will find his bust in the corridor that leads to the private apartments of the ducal palace, a faithful portrait carved by Bart. Buon. It was rescued when the original group over the Porta della Carta was destroyed in 1797.

Tomaso Mocenigo left Venice at peace with a flourishing exchequer: under Foscari it became bankrupt. In ten years the Milanese war had cost seven million sequins. The funds which stood at 60 when it began, sank to 18-1/2 before its close. Her hands tied by the war, Venice had been compelled to look on while Constantinople fell to the Turks. Increased taxes, forced loans, national default and commercial crises: non-payment of salaries, depreciation of real estate, depression of industry and reduction of population--this was the cost of military glory; the dark background to the brilliant and memorable reign of Francesco Foscari.

CHAPTER X

_The Turkish Terror--Acquisition of Cyprus--Discovery of the Cape Route to India--The French Invasions--The League of Cambrai--Decline of Venice_

"The G.o.ds have done it as to all they do Destine destruction, that from thence may rise A poem to instruct posterities."

--_Chapman's Homer_

In the eyes of Italian and European statesmen, Venice at the death of Doge Foscari seemed mightier than ever, but in truth she had already pa.s.sed the meridian of her strength and was on the descending arc of her destiny. For a century her consuls had warned the Signory of danger in the East. Pope after pope had summoned his children to cease their fratricidal strife and unite to meet the Turkish peril. During the pauses in the fierce clash of Christian pa.s.sions and ambitions, could be heard, like the beat of m.u.f.fled drums, the tread of the advancing infidel hosts sounding the doom of an empire. But no state in Europe, least of all Venice, grasped the full significance of the portent.

In 1416 a fleet had been sent to chastise the Sultan for permitting a violation of treaty rights, and although in the words of the commander, the Turks fought like dragons, yet by the grace of G.o.d and the help of the evangelist S. Marco they were utterly routed and the greater part cut in pieces: he was confident on the testimony of a captured Emir that the Turks would never again venture to oppose the Venetians on the seas.

In 1438 the Greek Emperor himself came to Venice to implore her aid and that of Europe against the enemy of Christendom. Twice in 1452 the appeal was repeated, but the Christian princes were too busy with their own quarrels to listen, and before a year pa.s.sed the scimitar of the Turk was red with the blood of the Christians at Constantinople. Had not Venice herself proven that the strong city was not impregnable? When it fell the Republic adopted her usual policy. She accepted the situation and secured her trading privileges by treaty with the Sultan. But when news came in 1463 of the conquest of the Morea and Epirus and that the crescent was flying over the Castle of Argos almost in sight of the Adriatic, Venice no longer stopped her ears to the Papal voice. Friar Michael of Milan was permitted to preach the crusade in the Piazza and a big, iron box was placed in St Mark's for offerings of money. Cristoforo Moro, the new Doge, addressed the Great Council and in an access of zeal volunteered to lead the crusade. By 1607 ballots against 11 the Great Council approved. Moro[49] was a devout but not very robust creature, and pleading age and infirmity asked permission to withdraw. He was bluntly told by Vettor Cappello to think less of his skin and more of the honour and welfare of the land.

Pius II. came to Ancona with the Sacred College to organise the crusade.

A league was made with Hungary. The Duke of Burgundy offered to join in person. Envoys were sent to other Christian princes. On July 30th, 1464, three hours before sunset--a time selected by the astrologers as the best--the Venetian fleet weighed anchor, the Doge leading in a new galley named after him. Scarcely had he disembarked at Ancona when the Pope died and all came to naught. The Doge returned to the ducal palace.

The Venetians single-handed fought on sea and land with their usual intrepidity, but the State was already weakened by the Milanese wars. In 1470 she lost the whole island of Negropont. Dazed by the calamity the members of the Collegio slowly walked with leaden feet and downcast looks across the Piazza and, if spoken to, answered not a word. Were they listening to the rustle of the wings of the sable-robed avenging sisters? In the following year a crowd of panic-stricken refugees from Istria and Friuli streamed into Venice and camped on the Piazza and under the arcades of the ducal palace. An army of 20,000 Turks had ravaged the provinces even up to Udine. The Republic was now at the end of her resources. An attempted diversion from Persia had failed. A big loan from her mainland provinces had been swallowed up. The Pope sent her envoys away empty. Not one Italian state stirred to help her. The good Tomaso Mocenigo's warnings were verified. National wrong meant national sorrow. Venice was harvesting the acrid fruit of the Genoese wars and her fifty years of territorial aggression. At the Congress[50]

of Carisano in 1466 Galeazzo Sforza, Duke of Milan, had warned the Secretary of the Republic that she was hated not only in Italy but beyond the Alps. "You do a grievous wrong," he vehemently exclaimed; "you possess the fairest State in Italy, yet are not satisfied. You disturb the peace and covet the states of others. If you knew the ill-will universally felt towards you, the very hair of your head would stand on end. Do you think the states of Italy are leagued against you out of love to each other? No; necessity has driven them. They have bound themselves together for the fear they have of you and of your power. They will not rest till they have clipped your wings."

Negotiations were twice begun with a view to peace, but the Sultan's demands were intolerable and the unequal contest continued. In 1476 Friuli was again devastated and the flames of burning cities could be seen from St Mark's tower. Sailors were clamouring for their arrears of pay on the very steps of the ducal palace. Scutari (in Albania), after heroically resisting two sieges, was nearing the end. A loan from the mainland provinces and 100,000 ducats from the sum left to the Republic by their condottiero Colleoni were swallowed up. In January 1479 Venice yielded. She ceded Scutari, Stalimene and other territory in the Morea occupied by the Turks during the war, in exchange for which the Sultan restored all that had been taken from her beyond her old boundaries. She maintained consular jurisdiction in Constantinople, but agreed to pay an indemnity of 200,000 ducats and a tribute of 10,000 ducats a year for her trading privileges. It was in Moro's reign that the last vestige of popular government was effaced. The t.i.tle of "Communitas Venetiarum,"

long disused in actual practice, was formally changed to the "Signoria."

During the wearing anxieties of the Turkish wars from the death of Moro in 1471 to the signature of the peace under Doge Giov. Mocenigo in 1479 four Doges, Nicolo Tron, Nicolo Marcello, Pietro Mocenigo, and Andrea Vendramin followed in rapid succession, the last a descendant of a family enn.o.bled after the Chioggian war. The delimitation of the new frontiers had been barely concluded in the East when a dispute concerning salterns and custom dues on the Po and the arrest of a priest for debt by the Venetian Consul at Ferrara led to another war in the peninsula. In 1482 the whole of Italy was aflame, and states that had watched unmoved the agony of the sixteen years' Turkish wars now turned on Venice and accused her of sinister motives in concluding the peace.

The Republic was now allied with Genoa and the Papacy against the Duke of Ferrara, supported by the King of Naples, by Florence and some minor Italian states. The early operations were in her favour, but in a few months the Pope, alarmed by an attack on Rome by the Neapolitans, joined the league against Venice, and as feudal lord of Ferrara, summoned her, under pain of excommunication, to abandon operations against that city.

When the interdict reached the Venetian Emba.s.sy at Rome, their amba.s.sador was absent and his agent refused to transmit the doc.u.ment to Venice. It was then fixed on the doors of St Peter's and afterwards forwarded to the Patriarch at Venice, who was ordered under pain of excommunication to serve it on the Signory.[51] The Patriarch fell diplomatically sick and secretly informed the Doge. The Ten were convoked. The Patriarch was warned to keep silence, and that the services of the Church must proceed as usual. The Pope was a long way off; the Ten were near; he obeyed them. A formal appeal was then made to a future Council of the Church and a copy nailed by a secret agent on the door of S. Celso at Rome.

The new combination was too powerful for the crippled resources of Venice. Driven into a corner she adopted the impious expedient of inviting the King of France to make good his claim to Naples and the Duke of Orleans to vindicate his rights over the duchy of Milan. The weight of the great French monarchy fell with decisive effect on the league. Peace was made and the treaty of Bagnolo (1484) added Rovigo and the Polesine to the Venetian dominions. Three days' bell-ringing, illumination and rejoicing celebrated the immediate results of the new diplomacy. But the successors of Louis XI. were now factors in Italian politics. The league of Cambrai was one stage nearer.

For a few years all went well. By a clever exploitation of dynastic trouble the Signory was able to acquire the long coveted island of Cyprus. On the death of King John II., Carlotta, the rightful heiress and wife of Louis of Savoy, banished her father's b.a.s.t.a.r.d son James and seated herself on the throne. By the help of the Sultan of Egypt James was able before a year was past to lead a revolt, expel the Queen and her consort from the island and seize the crown. He made friends with the Venetians and to ensure their goodwill desired the Signory to bestow on him the hand of a Venetian maiden of n.o.ble birth. Caterina, daughter of Marco Cornaro, who with two other patrician houses held the greater part of the island in mortgage, was chosen and given a dowry valued at 100,000 ducats. The espousals were quickly celebrated with great pomp, the Doge himself presenting a consecrated ring to James' proxy, the Cypriote amba.s.sador, who placed it on Caterina's finger in the name of the King of Cyprus. The little maid was but fourteen years of age and went from the splendour of the ducal palace to her usual life at home, while James was affirming his authority in the island.

During the same year (1468) the Senate learnt that Ferdinand of Naples was intriguing to draw James into an alliance with his own family. Stern words were used to the King and at length in October 1469 Venice was able to proclaim that she had taken the King and the island of Cyprus under her protection. In the summer of 1472, escorted by a fleet of four galleys, Caterina sailed to make a royal entry into Cyprus, but in a few months her joy was changed to mourning. James died, leaving her with child. The Senate aware that Carlotta was busy with the Italian powers and the Sultan, despatched their Captain-General, Pietro Mocenigo, to protect Caterina and to fortify and garrison the chief stations on the island. Before he arrived, the partizans of Carlotta burst into the palace, slew Caterina's physician before her eyes and cut in pieces her uncle Andrea and her cousin Bembo who were hasting to her aid. Mocenigo on his arrival quelled the insurrection and hanged the ringleaders. Two Venetian Councillors and a Civil Commissioner were sent to watch events.

A prince was born but died in a few months. Fearing a reversion of power to the former dynasty, James' mother, sister and b.a.s.t.a.r.d sons were deported to Venice and Marco Cornaro was despatched with instructions to comfort his daughter, to maintain the allegiance of the Cypriotes and to declare the absolute will of the Republic that no change should take place in the order of things. An emissary of Ferdinand, Rizzo di Mario, was caught plotting at Alexandria, sent to Venice and condemned to death by the Ten. The Sultan, who had known him as the amba.s.sador of Naples, threatened the Republic with his displeasure if the sentence were carried out. The Ten had Rizzo strangled in prison and informed the Sultan that he had poisoned himself. The Signory now determined to force Caterina's hand. Subtly but firmly the two Councillors and the Commissioner usurped more and more power, and poor Caterina's position was made intolerable. She wrote pitiful letters to the Doge complaining of the insults and petty persecutions suffered by herself and her father; scuffles took place on the very stairs of the palace. In October 1488 her brother Giorgio was sent by the Ten to persuade her to abdicate, while Captain-General Diedo was instructed to haste to Cyprus and "by wise, circ.u.mspect, cautious and secure means to get the Queen on board a galley and bring her here to us at Venice." To persuasions and threats Caterina at last yielded. The banner of St Mark floated over Cyprus and an envoy a.s.sured the Sultan of Egypt of the sympathy of the new government which was the "consequence of the full and free determination of our most serene and most beloved daughter Caterina Cornaro." The deposed Queen received a pompous welcome at Venice; made a solemn renunciation and a formal donation of Cyprus to the Republic in St Mark's; and went to live in petty state at the little township of Asolo which was given to her by the Republic. There, the centre of a literary circle, she pa.s.sed many years of her life in works of charity, until the storm of the league of Cambrai drove her for shelter to Venice where she died, universally mourned, in 1509. To the end she signed herself Queen of Cyprus, Jerusalem and Armenia, and Signora of Asolo.

[Ill.u.s.tration: THE FISH MARKET.]

During the closing years of the fifteenth century the mercantile supremacy of Venice, already threatened by the Ottoman conquests, was doomed by two momentous geographical discoveries. The voyages of Columbus and of Diaz were to change the face of Europe from the Mediterranean to the Atlantic, and to shift the commercial centre of the world from Venice to the Spanish peninsula and ultimately to England.

The former event excited curiosity in Venice, but not alarm. The Secretary of the Venetian Emba.s.sy in Spain, with the alertness of his cla.s.s, won the confidence of Columbus, and finding him short of money, was able to secure a chart of his discoveries and a copy of a long treatise on the voyage which he caused to be translated and sent to the Signory. Far otherwise was the effect of the latter event, by which the ancient trade routes to the East were to be superseded by the ocean route to India. Priuli gives a graphic story of the consternation which seized the citizens, when, in the early sixteenth century, the report was verified that Vasco da Gama with a Portuguese fleet had reached Calcutta by rounding the Cape of Good Hope, and had returned to Lisbon with a cargo of spices. The wiser heads at once saw the gravity of the news. Owing to the heavy dues exacted by the sultans and princes the cost of a parcel of spices was increased from one ducat to sixty or a hundred by the time it reached Venice. The Portuguese, carrying by sea, would escape the levies and undersell the Venetian merchants in the markets of Europe. Their large and profitable trade from the East would be captured. Leonardo da Ca' Ma.s.ser disguised as a merchant was sent to Lisbon to get information. An attempt was made to throttle the nascent commerce by working on the fears of the Sultan of Egypt. Envoys were sent to warn him of the danger to his revenue if the Portuguese were allowed to succeed, and to urge him to ally himself with the Indian princes, and give military aid if necessary, to destroy their trade. But the efforts of Venice availed nothing, for they were directed against the very course of the world's evolution.

The flourishing Eastern trade began to wither, but events seemed to offer opportunity of compensation by permitting a forward policy on the mainland. Venice had opened the gates of Italy to the French king, and it was not long before Charles VIII. marched in with an army such as had never before been seen in the peninsula to achieve his designs on the kingdom of Naples. From his camp at Asti came to Venice Philippe de Comines as an envoy seeking alliance with the Republic. The French diplomatist in his memoirs has left us a charming description of Venice as it appeared in 1494.

[Ill.u.s.tration: PALAZZO DARIO]

As he approached the city he marvelled at the innumerable towers and monasteries, the fair churches, the great mansions and fine gardens all founded in the sea. Twenty-five n.o.bles, well and richly clad in fine silk and scarlet cloth, bade him welcome and conducted him to a boat, large enough to seat forty persons, covered with satin cramoisy and richly carpeted. He was prayed to take his seat between the amba.s.sadors of Milan and Ferrara. "I was taken," he writes, "along the _grande rue_, which they call the Grand Ca.n.a.l, and it is very broad. Galleys cross it, and I have seen great ships of four hundred tons and more near the houses, and it is the fairest street I believe that may be in the whole world, and fitted with the best houses, and it goes the whole length of the said city. The mansions are very large and high and of good stone; the ancient ones all painted. Others, made a hundred years ago, are faced with white marble, and yet have many a great piece of porphyry and serpentine on the front. Inside they have chambers with gilded ceilings and rich chimney-pieces of carved marble, gilded bedsteads of wood, and are well furnished. It is the most triumphant city I have ever seen and that doeth most honour to amba.s.sadors and to strangers, and that most wisely doth govern itself, and where the service of G.o.d is most solemnly done: and though they may have many faults I believe that G.o.d hath them in remembrance for the reverence they bear to the service of His Church." De Comines found the Doge (Agostino Barbarigo) an amiable, wise and gentle prince, experienced in Italian politics, and after a stay of eight months, left with his mission unfulfilled. The Most Christian King, if we may believe the Venetian amba.s.sador Contarini, lacked many inches of regal majesty. He was short in stature, ill-formed, had an ugly face, prominent white eyes, a big, coa.r.s.e, aquiline nose, thick lips always open, and a nervous twitching of the hands very unpleasant to see. He was slow in expressing himself and dull-witted. Nor was Anne of Brittany, the Queen, portrayed less rudely.

She, says the ungallant diplomatist, was short, bony and lame, with a rather pretty face. She was only seventeen, but most astute for her age, inordinately jealous of the King's majesty, and always succeeded in getting her way by the use of smiles or tears. The _Cristianissimo_ marched triumphantly through the length of Italy to realise his dream of winning Naples, and then overthrowing the Mussulman power in the East.

Florence, Rome, Naples were successively occupied; the balance of Italian politics was disastrously overthrown, and the unhappy land soon became a c.o.c.kpit where the rival ambitions of France and Spain were fought out. Milan and Venice had each thought to use the Transalpine Powers for her own ends; they both became their prey. Charles had himself crowned King of Naples, Emperor of the East, and King of Jerusalem, but soon discovered that to conquer was easier than to hold.

The rival powers began to league themselves against him, and in the bewildering moves on the political chess-board Venice and Milan came into line. In March 1495 the Signory a.s.sured De Comines that his master should have a free pa.s.sage for the return of his army through Italy; in July of the same year she concerted with Milan, and fell upon the French at Fornovo di Taro, as they were toiling down the Cisa Pa.s.s to Parma.

The French were severely punished, and in the fighting the King himself narrowly escaped capture. How the news was received at Venice, a letter dated July 9, 1495, and transcribed by Malipiero, gives a vivid picture.

"I arose early and went my usual way to St Mark's," says Nicolo Lippomano, "when I saw a great fury of people running to the Piazza, crying--'Marco! Marco!' I asked the cause and was told the French camp had been routed. I arrived at the corner of St Mark's, where the elders are wont to meet, and found them all glad and many shed tears for joy. I went to Rialto and found everybody talking of the victory, and one kissed the other for very gladness. In a trice all the banks and shops were closed. Boys with flags began to run about the streets shouting of the victory and sacking the fruit-sellers' shops on the way. On the Rialto they met eight Savoyards whom they pelted with eggs, lemon peel and turnips, and otherwise ill-treated. All the people shouted--'To Ferrara! to Ferrara!' All my days I never saw the city in greater uproar. To G.o.d be the praise."

The spot is still shown where, in 1498, Charles broke his foolish head against a beam in a dark pa.s.sage of the castle at Amboise. His successor, Louis XII., to the ill-hap of Italy, united in his person the claims both of the Orleans princes to Milan and of the French kings to Naples. Ludovico Sforza, fearing for his duchy, approached the Signory, but, to his disgust, learned that Venice had already secretly agreed to aid Louis in his designs on Milan, in return for Cremona and other cities and lands on the east of the Adda. Sforza, to revenge himself on Venice invited the Turks to attack her. In twenty days Louis had won the Milanese, and Venice was paid the price of her shame.