Chapter XII: Prologue (3)

[8] _Lazarus Bayfius de Re Navali Veterum_, in _Gronovii Thesaurus_,
Ven. 1737, vol. xi. p. 581. This writer also speaks of the
Quinquereme mentioned above (p. 577).

[9] _Marinus Sanutius_, p. 65.

[10] See the woodcuts opposite and at p. 37; also _Pantera_, p. 46
(who is here, however, speaking of the great-oared galleys), and
_Coronelli_, i. 140.

[11] _Casoni_, p. 324. He obtains these particulars from a manuscript
work of the 16th century by Cristoforo Canale.

[12] Signor Casoni (p. 324) expresses his belief that no galley of
the 14th century had more than 100 oars. I differ from him with
hesitation, and still more as I find M. Jal agrees in this view. I
will state the grounds on which I came to a different conclusion.
(1) Marino Sanudo assigns 180 rowers for a galley equipped _ai
Terzaruoli_ (p. 75). This seemed to imply something near 180 oars,
for I do not find any allusion to reliefs being provided. In the
French galleys of the 18th century there were no reliefs except in
this way, that in long runs without urgency only half the oars were
pulled. (See _Mém. d’un Protestant condamné aux Galères_, etc.,
Réimprimés, Paris, 1865, p. 447.) If four men to a bench were to be
employed, then Sanudo seems to calculate for his smaller galleys
220 men actually rowing (see pp. 75–78). This seems to assume 55
benches, _i.e._, 28 on one side and 27 on the other, which with
3-banked oars would give 165 rowers. (2) Casoni himself refers to
Pietro Martire d’Anghieria’s account of a Great Galley of Venice
in which he was sent ambassador to Egypt from the Spanish Court in
1503. The crew amounted to 200, of whom 150 were for working the
sails and oars, _that being the number of oars in each galley_,
one man to each oar and three to each bench. Casoni assumes that
this vessel must have been much larger than the galleys of the 14th
century; but, however that may have been, Sanudo to his galley
assigns the larger crew of 250, of whom almost exactly the same
proportion (180) were rowers. And in the _galeazza_ described by
Pietro Martire the oars were used only as an occasional auxiliary.
(See his _Legationis Babylonicæ Libri Tres_, appended to his 3
Decads concerning the New World; _Basil_. 1533, f. 77 _ver._) (3)
The galleys of the 18th century, with their great oars 50 feet
long pulled by six or seven men each, had 25 benches to the side,
and only 4′ 6″ (French) gunnel-space to each oar. (See _Mém. d’un
Protest._, p. 434.) I imagine that a smaller space would suffice
for the 3 light oars of the mediæval system, so that this need
scarcely be a difficulty in the face of the preceding evidence.
Note also the _three hundred rowers_ in Joinville’s description
quoted at p. _40_. The great galleys of the Malay Sultan of Achin
in 1621 had, according to Beaulieu, from 700 to 800 rowers, but I
do not know on what system.

[13] _Marinus Sanutius_, p. 78. These titles occur also in the
_Documenti d’ Amore_ of Fr. Barberino referred to at p. 117 of this
volume:—

“Convienti qui manieri _Portolatti e prodieri_ E presti galeotti
Aver, e forti e dotti.”

[14] Spinello’s works, according to Vasari, extended from 1334 till
late in the century. A religious picture of his at Siena is
assigned to 1385, so the frescoes may probably be of about the same
period. Of the battle represented I can find no record.

[15] Engraved in Jal, i. 330; with other mediæval illustrations of the
same points.

[16] To these Casoni adds _Sifoni_ for discharging Greek fire; but this
he seems to take from the Greek treatise of the Emperor Leo. Though
I have introduced Greek fire in the cut at p. _49_, I doubt if
there is evidence of its use by the Italians in the thirteenth
century. Joinville describes it like something strange and new.

In after days the artillery occupied the same position, at the bow
of the galley.

Great beams, hung like battering rams, are mentioned by Sanudo, as
well as iron crow’s-feet with fire attached, to shoot among the
rigging, and jars of quick-lime and soft soap to fling in the eyes
of the enemy. The lime is said to have been used by Doria against
the Venetians at Curzola (_infra_, p. _48_), and seems to have been
a usual provision. Francesco Barberini specifies among the stores
for his galley: “_Calcina_, con lancioni, Pece, pietre, e ronconi”
(p. 259). And Christine de Pisan, in her _Faiz du Sage Roy Charles_
(V. of France), explains also the use of the soap: “_Item_, on
doit avoir pluseurs vaisseaulx legiers à rompre, comme _poz plains
de chauls_ ou pouldre, et gecter dedens; et, par ce, seront comme
avuglez, au brisier des poz. _Item_, on doit avoir autres _poz
de mol savon_ et gecter es nefzs des adversaires, et quant les
vaisseaulx brisent, le savon est glissant, si ne se peuent en piez
soustenir et chiéent en l’eaue” (pt. ii. ch. 38).

[17] _Balistariæ_, whence no doubt _Balistrada_ and our _Balustrade_.
Wedgwood’s etymology is far-fetched. And in his new edition (1872),
though he has shifted his ground, he has not got nearer the truth.

[18] _Sanutius_, p. 53; _Joinville_, p. 40; _Muntaner_, 316, 403.

[19] See pp. 270, 288, 324, and especially 346.

[20] See the _Protestant_, cited above, p. 441, _et seqq._

[21] _Venezia e le sue Lagune_, ii. 52.

[22] _Mar. Sanut._ p. 75.

[23] _Mar. Sanut._, p. 30.

[24] The Catalan Admiral Roger de Loria, advancing at daybreak to
attack the Provençal Fleet of Charles of Naples (1283) in the
harbour of Malta, “did a thing which should be reckoned to him
rather as an act of madness,” says Muntaner, “than of reason. He
said, ‘God forbid that I should attack them, all asleep as they
are! Let the trumpets and nacaires sound to awaken them, and I will
tarry till they be ready for action. No man shall have it to say,
if I beat them, that it was by catching them asleep.’” (_Munt._ p.
287.) It is what Nelson might have done!

The Turkish admiral Sidi ’Ali, about to engage a Portuguese
squadron in the Straits of Hormuz, in 1553, describes the Franks as
“dressing their vessels with flags and coming on.” (_J. As._ ix.
70.)

[25] A cross _patée_, is one with the extremities broadened out into
_feet_ as it were.

[26] Page 50.

[27] The galley at p. _49_ is somewhat too high; and I believe it
should have had no _shrouds_.

[28] See _Muntaner_, passim, _e.g._ 271, 286, 315, 349.

[29] _Ibid._ 346.

VI. THE JEALOUSIES AND NAVAL WARS OF VENICE AND GENOA. LAMBA DORIA’S
EXPEDITION TO THE ADRIATIC; BATTLE OF CURZOLA; AND IMPRISONMENT
OF MARCO POLO BY THE GENOESE.

[Sidenote: Growing jealousies and outbreaks between the Republics.]

31. Jealousies, too characteristic of the Italian communities, were, in the case of the three great trading republics of Venice, Genoa, and Pisa, aggravated by commercial rivalries, whilst, between the two first of those states, and also between the two last, the bitterness of such feelings had been augmenting during the whole course of the 13th century.[1]

The brilliant part played by Venice in the conquest of Constantinople (1204), and the preponderance she thus acquired on the Greek shores, stimulated her arrogance and the resentment of her rivals. The three states no longer stood on a level as bidders for the shifting favour of the Emperor of the East. By treaty, not only was Venice established as the most important ally of the empire and as mistress of a large fraction of its territory, but all members of nations at war with her were prohibited from entering its limits. Though the Genoese colonies continued to exist, they stood at a great disadvantage, where their rivals were so predominant and enjoyed exemption from duties, to which the Genoese remained subject. Hence jealousies and resentments reached a climax in the Levantine settlements, and this colonial exacerbation reacted on the mother States.

A dispute which broke out at Acre in 1255 came to a head in a war which lasted for years, and was felt all over Syria. It began in a quarrel about a very old church called St. Sabba’s, which stood on the common boundary of the Venetian and Genoese estates in Acre,[2] and this flame was blown by other unlucky occurrences. Acre suffered grievously.[3] Venice at this time generally kept the upper hand, beating Genoa by land and sea, and driving her from Acre altogether.✛ Four ancient porphyry figures from St. Sabba’s were sent in triumph to Venice, and with their strange devices still stand at the exterior corner of St. Mark’s, towards the Ducal Palace.[4]

But no number of defeats could extinguish the spirit of Genoa, and the tables were turned when in her wrath she allied herself with Michael Palaeologus to upset the feeble and tottering Latin Dynasty, and with it the preponderance of Venice on the Bosphorus. The new emperor handed over to his allies the castle of their foes, which they tore down with jubilations, and now it was their turn to send its stones as trophies to Genoa. Mutual hate waxed fiercer than ever; no merchant fleet of either state could go to sea without convoy, and wherever their ships met they fought.[5] It was something like the state of things between Spain and England in the days of Drake.

The energy and capacity of the Genoese seemed to rise with their success, and both in seamanship and in splendour they began almost to surpass their old rivals. The fall of Acre (1291), and the total expulsion of the Franks from Syria, in great measure barred the southern routes of Indian trade, whilst the predominance of Genoa in the Euxine more or less obstructed the free access of her rival to the northern routes by Trebizond and Tana.

[Sidenote: Battle in Bay of Ayas in 1294.]

32. Truces were made and renewed, but the old fire still smouldered. In the spring of 1294 it broke into flame, in consequence of the seizure in the Grecian seas of three Genoese vessels by a Venetian fleet. This led to an action with a Genoese convoy which sought redress. The fight took place off Ayas in the Gulf of Scanderoon,[6] and though the Genoese were inferior in strength by one-third they gained a signal victory, capturing all but three of the Venetian galleys, with rich cargoes, including that of Marco Basilio (or Basegio), the commodore.

This victory over their haughty foe was in its completeness evidently a surprise to the Genoese, as well as a source of immense exultation, which is vigorously expressed in a ballad of the day, written in a stirring salt-water rhythm.[7] It represents the Venetians, as they enter the bay, in arrogant mirth reviling the Genoese with very unsavoury epithets as having deserted their ships to skulk on shore. They are described as saying:—

“‘Off they’ve slunk! and left us nothing;
We shall get nor prize nor praise;
Nothing save those crazy timbers
Only fit to make a blaze.’”

So they advance carelessly—

“On they come! But lo their blunder!
When our lads start up anon,
Breaking out like unchained lions,
With a roar, ‘Fall on! Fall on!’”[8]

After relating the battle and the thoroughness of the victory, ending in the conflagration of five-and-twenty captured galleys, the poet concludes by an admonition to the enemy to moderate his pride and curb his arrogant tongue, harping on the obnoxious epithet _porci leproxi_, which seems to have galled the Genoese.[9] He concludes:—

“Nor can I at all remember
Ever to have heard the story
Of a fight wherein the Victors
Reaped so rich a meed of glory!”[10]

The community of Genoa decreed that the victory should be commemorated by the annual presentation of a golden pall to the monastery of St. German’s, the saint on whose feast (28th May) it had been won.[11]

The startling news was received at Venice with wrath and grief, for the flower of their navy had perished, and all energies were bent at once to raise an overwhelming force.[12] The Pope (Boniface VIII.) interfered as arbiter, calling for plenipotentiaries from both sides. But spirits were too much inflamed, and this mediation came to nought.

Further outrages on both sides occurred in 1296. The Genoese residences at Pera were fired, their great alum works on the coast of Anatolia were devastated, and Caffa was stormed and sacked; whilst on the other hand a number of the Venetians at Constantinople were massacred by the Genoese, and Marco Bembo, their Bailo, was flung from a house-top. Amid such events the fire of enmity between the cities waxed hotter and hotter.

[Sidenote: Lamba Doria’s Expedition to the Adriatic.]

33. In 1298 the Genoese made elaborate preparations for a great blow at the enemy, and fitted out a powerful fleet which they placed under the command of LAMBA DORIA, a younger brother of Uberto of that illustrious house, under whom he had served fourteen years before in the great rout of the Pisans at Meloria.

The rendezvous of the fleet was in the Gulf of Spezia, as we learn from the same pithy Genoese poet who celebrated Ayas. This time the Genoese were bent on bearding St. Mark’s Lion in his own den; and after touching at Messina they steered straight for the Adriatic:—

“Now, as astern Otranto bears,
Pull with a will! and, please the Lord,
Let them who bragged, with fire and sword,
To waste our homesteads, look to theirs!”[13]

On their entering the gulf a great storm dispersed the fleet. The admiral with twenty of his galleys got into port at Antivari on the Albanian coast, and next day was rejoined by fifty-eight more, with which he scoured the Dalmatian shore, plundering all Venetian property. Some sixteen of his galleys were still missing when he reached the island of Curzola, or Scurzola as the more popular name seems to have been, the Black Corcyra of the Ancients—the chief town of which, a rich and flourishing place, the Genoese took and burned.[14] Thus they were engaged when word came that the Venetian fleet was in sight.

Venice, on first hearing of the Genoese armament, sent Andrea Dandolo with a large force to join and supersede Maffeo Quirini, who was already cruising with a squadron in the Ionian sea; and, on receiving further information of the strength of the hostile expedition, the Signory hastily equipped thirty-two more galleys in Chioggia and the ports of Dalmatia, and despatched them to join Dandolo, making the whole number under his command up to something like ninety-five. Recent drafts had apparently told heavily upon the Venetian sources of enlistment, and it is stated that many of the complements were made up of rustics swept in haste from the Euganean hills. To this the Genoese poet seems to allude, alleging that the Venetians, in spite of their haughty language, had to go begging for men and money up and down Lombardy. “Did _we_ do like that, think you?” he adds:—

“Beat up for aliens? _We_ indeed?
When lacked we homeborn Genoese?
Search all the seas, no salts like these,
For Courage, Seacraft, Wit at need.”[15]

Of one of the Venetian galleys, probably in the fleet which sailed under Dandolo’s immediate command, went Marco Polo as _Sopracomito_ or Gentleman-Commander.[16]

[Sidenote: The Fleets come in sight of each other at Curzola.]

34. It was on the afternoon of Saturday the 6th September that the Genoese saw the Venetian fleet approaching, but, as sunset was not far off, both sides tacitly agreed to defer the engagement.[17]

The Genoese would appear to have occupied a position near the eastern end of the Island of Curzola, with the Peninsula of Sabbioncello behind them, and Meleda on their left, whilst the Venetians advanced along the south side of Curzola. (See map on p. _50_).

According to Venetian accounts the Genoese were staggered at the sight of the Venetian armaments, and sent more than once to seek terms, offering finally to surrender galleys and munitions of war, if the crews were allowed to depart. This is an improbable story, and that of the Genoese ballad seems more like truth. Doria, it says, held a council of his captains in the evening at which they all voted for attack, whilst the Venetians, with that overweening sense of superiority which at this time is reflected in their own annals as distinctly as in those of their enemies, kept scout-vessels out to watch that the Genoese fleet, which they looked on as already their own, did not steal away in the darkness. A vain imagination, says the poet:—

“Blind error of vainglorious men
To dream that we should seek to flee
After those weary leagues of sea
Crossed, but to hunt them in their den!”[18]

[Sidenote: The Venetians defeated, and Marco Polo a prisoner.]

35. The battle began early on Sunday and lasted till the afternoon. The Venetians had the wind in their favour, but the morning sun in their eyes. They made the attack, and with great impetuosity, capturing ten Genoese galleys; but they pressed on too wildly, and some of their vessels ran aground. One of their galleys too, being taken, was cleared of her crew and turned against the Venetians. These incidents caused confusion among the assailants; the Genoese, who had begun to give way, took fresh heart, formed a close column, and advanced boldly through the Venetian line, already in disorder. The sun had begun to decline when there appeared on the Venetian flank the fifteen or sixteen missing galleys of Doria’s fleet, and fell upon it with fresh force. This decided the action. The Genoese gained a complete victory, capturing all but a few of the Venetian galleys, and including the flagship with Dandolo. The Genoese themselves lost heavily, especially in the early part of the action, and Lamba Doria’s eldest son Octavian is said to have fallen on board his father’s vessel.[19] The number of prisoners taken was over 7000, and among these was Marco Polo.[20]

... “=il sembloit que la galie volast, par les nageurs qui la
contreingnoient aux avirons, et sembloit que foudre cheist des ciex,
au bruit que les pennonciaus menoient; et que les nacaires les tabours
et les cors sarrazinnois menoient, qui estoient en sa galie.=”

(_Joinville_, vide _ante_, p. 40.)]

The prisoners, even of the highest rank, appear to have been chained. Dandolo, in despair at his defeat, and at the prospect of being carried captive into Genoa, refused food, and ended by dashing his head against a bench.[21] A Genoese account asserts that a noble funeral was given him after the arrival of the fleet at Genoa, which took place on the evening of the 16th October.[22] It was received with great rejoicing, and the City voted the annual presentation of a pallium of gold brocade to the altar of the Virgin in the Church of St. Matthew, on every 8th of September, the Madonna’s day, on the eve of which the Battle had been won. To the admiral himself a Palace was decreed. It still stands, opposite the Church of St. Matthew, though it has passed from the possession of the Family. On the striped marble façades, both of the Church and of the Palace, inscriptions of that age, in excellent preservation, still commemorate Lamba’s achievement.[23] Malik al Mansúr, the Mameluke Sultan of Egypt, as an enemy of Venice, sent a complimentary letter to Doria accompanied by costly presents.[24]

The latter died at Savona 17th October, 1323, a few months before the most illustrious of his prisoners, and his bones were laid in a sarcophagus which may still be seen forming the sill of one of the windows of S. Matteo (on the right as you enter). Over this sarcophagus stood the Bust of Lamba till 1797, when the mob of Genoa, in idiotic imitation of the French proceedings of that age, threw it down. All of Lamba’s six sons had fought with him at Meloria. In 1291 one of them, Tedisio, went forth into the Atlantic in company with Ugolino Vivaldi on a voyage of discovery, and never returned. Through Cæsar, the youngest, this branch of the Family still survives, bearing the distinctive surname of _Lamba-Doria_.[25]

As to the treatment of the prisoners, accounts differ; a thing usual in such cases. The Genoese Poet asserts that the hearts of his countrymen were touched, and that the captives were treated with compassionate courtesy. Navagiero the Venetian, on the other hand, declares that most of them died of hunger.[26]

[Sidenote: Marco Polo in prison dictates his book to Rusticiano of Pisa. Release of Venetian prisoners.]

36. Howsoever they may have been treated, here was Marco Polo one of those many thousand prisoners in Genoa; and here, before long, he appears to have made acquaintance with a man of literary propensities, whose destiny had brought him into the like plight, by name RUSTICIANO or RUSTICHELLO of Pisa. It was this person perhaps who persuaded the Traveller to defer no longer the reduction to writing of his notable experiences; but in any case it was he who wrote down those experiences at Marco’s dictation; it is he therefore to whom we owe the preservation of this record, and possibly even that of the Traveller’s very memory. This makes the Genoese imprisonment so important an episode in Polo’s biography.

To Rusticiano we shall presently recur. But let us first bring to a conclusion what may be gathered as to the duration of Polo’s imprisonment.

It does not appear whether Pope Boniface made any new effort for accommodation between the Republics; but other Italian princes did interpose, and Matteo Visconti, Captain-General of Milan, styling himself Vicar-General of the Holy Roman Empire in Lombardy, was accepted as Mediator, along with the community of Milan. Ambassadors from both States presented themselves at that city, and on the 25th May, 1299, they signed the terms of a Peace.

These terms were perfectly honourable to Venice, being absolutely equal and reciprocal; from which one is apt to conclude that the damage to the City of the Sea was rather to her pride than to her power; the success of Genoa, in fact, having been followed up by no systematic attack upon Venetian commerce.[27] Among the terms was the mutual release of prisoners on a day to be fixed by Visconti after the completion of all formalities. This day is not recorded, but as the Treaty was ratified by the Doge of Venice on the 1st July, and the latest extant document connected with the formalities appears to be dated 18th July, we may believe that before the end of August Marco Polo was restored to the family mansion in S. Giovanni Grisostomo.

[Sidenote: Grounds on which the story of Marco Polo’s capture at Curzola rests.]

37. Something further requires to be said before quitting this event in our Traveller’s life. For we confess that a critical reader may have some justification in asking what evidence there is that Marco Polo ever fought at Curzola, and ever was carried a prisoner to Genoa from that unfortunate action?

A learned Frenchman, whom we shall have to quote freely in the immediately ensuing pages, does not venture to be more precise in reference to the meeting of Polo and Rusticiano than to say of the latter: “In 1298, being in durance in the Prison of Genoa, he there became acquainted with Marco Polo, whom the Genoese had deprived of his liberty _from motives equally unknown_.”[28]

To those who have no relish for biographies that round the meagre skeleton of authentic facts with a plump padding of what _might have been_, this sentence of Paulin Paris is quite refreshing in its stern limitation to positive knowledge. And certainly no contemporary authority has yet been found for the capture of our Traveller at Curzola. Still I think that the fact is beyond reasonable doubt.

Ramusio’s biographical notices certainly contain many errors of detail; and some, such as the many years’ interval which he sets between the Battle of Curzola and Marco’s return, are errors which a very little trouble would have enabled him to eschew. But still it does seem reasonable to believe that the main fact of Marco’s command of a galley at Curzola, and capture there, was derived from a genuine tradition, if not from documents.

Let us then turn to the words which close Rusticiano’s preamble (see _post_, p. 2):—“Lequel (Messire Marc) puis demorant en le charthre de Jene, fist retraire toutes cestes chouses a Messire Rustacians de Pise que en celle meissme charthre estoit, au tens qu’il avoit 1298 anz que Jezu eut vesqui.” These words are at least thoroughly consistent with Marco’s capture at Curzola, as regards both the position in which they present him, and the year in which he is thus presented.

There is however another piece of evidence, though it is curiously indirect.

The Dominican Friar Jacopo of Acqui was a contemporary of Polo’s, and was the author of a somewhat obscure Chronicle called _Imago Mundi_.[29] Now this Chronicle does contain mention of Marco’s capture in action by the Genoese, but attributes it to a different action from Curzola, and one fought at a time when Polo could not have been present. The passage runs as follows in a manuscript of the Ambrosian Library, according to an extract given by Baldelli Boni:—

“In the year of Christ MCCLXXXXVI, in the time of Pope Boniface
VI., of whom we have spoken above, a battle was fought in Arminia,
at the place called Layaz, between xv. galleys of Genoese merchants
and xxv. of Venetian merchants; and after a great fight the galleys
of the Venetians were beaten, and (the crews) all slain or taken;
and among them was taken Messer Marco the Venetian, who was in
company with those merchants, and who was called _Milono_, which
is as much as to say ‘a thousand thousand pounds,’ for so goes
the phrase in Venice. So this Messer Marco Milono the Venetian,
with the other Venetian prisoners, is carried off to the prison
of Genoa, and there kept for a long time. This Messer Marco was a
long time with his father and uncle in Tartary, and he there saw
many things, and made much wealth, and also learned many things,
for he was a man of ability. And so, being in prison at Genoa,
he made a Book concerning the great wonders of the World, _i.e._,
concerning such of them as he had seen. And what he told in the
Book was not as much as he had really seen, because of the tongues
of detractors, who, being ready to impose their own lies on others,
are over hasty to set down as lies what they in their perversity
disbelieve, or do not understand. And because there are many great
and strange things in that Book, which are reckoned past all
credence, he was asked by his friends on his death-bed to correct
the Book by removing everything that went beyond the facts. To
which his reply was that he had not told _one-half_ of what he had
really seen!”[30]

This statement regarding the capture of Marco _at the Battle of Ayas_ is one which cannot be true, for we know that he did not reach Venice till 1295, travelling from Persia by way of Trebizond and the Bosphorus, whilst the Battle of Ayas of which we have purposely given some detail, was fought in May, 1294. The date MCCLXXXXVI assigned to it in the preceding extract has given rise to some unprofitable discussion. Could that date be accepted, no doubt it would enable us also to accept this, the sole statement from the Traveller’s own age of the circumstances which brought him into a Genoese prison; it would enable us to place that imprisonment within a few months of his return from the East, and to extend its duration to three years, points which would thus accord better with the general tenor of Ramusio’s tradition than the capture of Curzola. But the matter is not open to such a solution. The date of the Battle of Ayas is not more doubtful than that of the Battle of the Nile. It is clearly stated by several independent chroniclers, and is carefully established in the Ballad that we have quoted above.[31] We shall see repeatedly in the course of this Book how uncertain are the transcriptions of dates in Roman numerals, and in the present case the LXXXXVI is as certainly a mistake for LXXXXIV as is Boniface VI. in the same quotation a mistake for Boniface VIII.

But though we cannot accept the statement that Polo was taken prisoner at _Ayas, in the spring of 1294_, we may accept the passage as evidence from a contemporary source that he was _taken prisoner in some sea-fight with the Genoese_, and thus admit it in corroboration of the Ramusian Tradition of his capture in a sea-fight at Curzola in 1298, which is perfectly consistent with all other facts in our possession.

---------------------------------------------------------------------- [1] In this part of these notices I am repeatedly indebted to _Heyd._ (See _supra_, p. 9.)

[2] On or close to the Hill called _Monjoie_; see the plan from Marino
Sanudo at p. 18.

[3] “Throughout that year there were not less than 40 machines all at
work upon the city of Acre, battering its houses and its towers,
and smashing and overthrowing everything within their range.
There were at least ten of those engines that shot stones so big
and heavy that they weighed a good 1500 lbs. by the weight of
Champagne; insomuch that nearly all the towers and forts of Acre
were destroyed, and only the religious houses were left. And there
were slain in this same war good 20,000 men on the two sides,
but chiefly of Genoese and Spaniards.” (_Lettre de Jean Pierre
Sarrasin_, in _Michel’s Joinville_, p. 308.)

[4] The origin of these columns is, however, somewhat uncertain. [See
_Cicogna_, I. p. 379.]

[5] In 1262, when a Venetian squadron was taken by the Greek fleet
in alliance with the Genoese, the whole of the survivors of the
captive crews were _blinded_ by order of Palaeologus. (_Roman._ ii.
272.)

[6] See pp. 16, 41, and Plan of Ayas at beginning of Bk. I.

[7] See _Archivio Storico Italiano_, Appendice, tom. iv.

[8]

_Niente ne resta a prender
Se no li corpi de li legni:
Preixi som senza difender;
De bruxar som tute degni!_
* * * *
_Como li fom aproximai
Queli si levan lantor
Como leon descaenai
Tuti criando_ “Alor! Alor!”

This _Alor! Alor!_ (“Up, Boys, and at ’em”), or something similar,
appears to have been the usual war-cry of both parties. So a
trumpet-like poem of the Troubadour warrior Bertram de Born, whom
Dante found in such evil plight below (xxviii. 118 _seqq._), in
which he sings with extraordinary spirit the joys of war:—

“=Ie us dic que tan no m’a sabor
Manjars, ni beure, ni dormir,
Cum a quant aug cridar,= ALOR!
=D’ambas la partz; et aug agnir
Cavals voits per l’ombratge=....”

“I tell you a zest far before
Aught of slumber, or drink, or of food,
I snatch when the shouts of ALOR
Ring from both sides: and out of the wood
Comes the neighing of steeds dimly seen....”

In a galley fight at Tyre in 1258, according to a Latin narrative,
the Genoese shout “Ad arma, ad arma! _ad ipsos, ad ipsos!_” The
cry of the Venetians before engaging the Greeks is represented
by Martino da Canale, in his old French, as “_or à yaus! or à
yaus!_” that of the Genoese on another occasion as _Aur! Aur!_ and
this last is the shout of the Catalans also in Ramon de Muntaner.
(_Villemain, Litt. du Moyen Age_, i. 99; _Archiv. Stor. Ital._
viii. 364, 506; _Pertz, Script._ xviii. 239; _Muntaner_, 269, 287.)
Recently in a Sicilian newspaper, narrating an act of gallant and
successful reprisal (only too rare) by country folk on a body of
the brigands who are such a scourge to parts of the island, I read
that the honest men in charging the villains raised a shout of “_Ad
iddi! Ad iddi!_”

[9] A phrase curiously identical, with a similar sequence, is
attributed to an Austrian General at the battle of Skalitz in 1866.
(_Stoffel’s Letters._)

[10]

_E no me posso aregordar
Dalcuno romanzo vertadê
Donde oyse uncha cointar
Alcun triumfo si sobré!_

[11] _Stella_ in _Muratori_, xvii. 984.

[12] _Dandulo_, Ibid. xii. 404–405.

[13]

_Or entram con gran vigor,
En De sperando aver triumpho,
Queli zerchando inter lo Gorfo
Chi menazeram zercha lor!_

And in the next verse note the pure Scotch use of the word _bra_:—

_Sichè da Otranto se partim
Quella bra compagnia,
Per assar in Ihavonia,
D’Avosto a vinte nove dì._

[14] The island of Curzola now counts about 4000 inhabitants; the town
half the number. It was probably reckoned a dependency of Venice
at this time. The King of Hungary had renounced his claims on the
Dalmatian coasts by treaty in 1244. (_Romanin_, ii. 235.) The
gallant defence of the place against the Algerines in 1571 won
for Curzola from the Venetian Senate the honourable title in all
documents of _fedelissima_. (_Paton’s Adriatic_, I. 47.)

[15]

_Ma sé si gran colmo avea
Perchè andava mendigando_

_Per terra de Lombardia
Peccunia, gente a sodi?
Pone mente tu che l’odi
Se noi tegnamo questa via?_

_No, ma’ più! ajamo omi nostrar
Destri, valenti, e avisti,
Che mai par de lor n’o visti
In tuti officj de mar._

[16] In July 1294, a Council of Thirty decreed that galleys should be
equipped by the richest families in proportion to their wealth.
Among the families held to equip one galley each, or one galley
among two or more, in this list, is the CA’ POLO. But this was
before the return of the travellers from the East, and just after
the battle of Ayas. (_Romanin_, ii. 332; this author misdates Ayas,
however.) When a levy was required in Venice for any expedition
the heads of each _contrada_ divided the male inhabitants, between
the ages of twenty and sixty, into groups of twelve each, called
_duodene_. The dice were thrown to decide who should go first on
service. He who went received five _lire_ a month from the State,
and one _lira_ from each of his colleagues in the _duodena_. Hence
his pay was sixteen _lire_ a month, about 2_s._ a day in silver
value, if these were _lire ai grossi_, or 1_s._ 4_d._ if _lire dei
piccoli_. (See _Romanin_, ii. 393–394.)

Money on such occasions was frequently raised by what was called an
_Estimo_ or _Facion_, which was a force loan levied on the citizens
in proportion to their estimated wealth; and for which they were
entitled to interest from the State.

[17] Several of the Italian chroniclers, as Ferreto of Vicenza and
Navagiero, whom Muratori has followed in his “Annals,” say the
battle was fought on the 8th September, the so-called Birthday of
the Madonna. But the inscription on the Church of St. Matthew at
Genoa, cited further on, says the 7th, and with this agree both
Stella and the Genoese poet. For the latter, though not specifying
the day of the month, says it was on a Sunday:—

“Lo di de Domenga era
Passa prima en l’ora bona
Stormezam fin provo nona
Con bataio forte e fera.”

Now the 7th September, 1298, fell on a Sunday.

[18]

_Ma li pensavam grande error
Che in fuga se fussem tuti metui
Che de si lonzi eram vegnui
Per cerchali a casa lor._

[19] “Note here that the Genoese generally, commonly, and by nature,
are the most covetous of Men, and the Love of Gain spurs them to
every Crime. Yet are they deemed also the most valiant Men in the
World. Such an one was Lampa, of that very Doria family, a man
of an high Courage truly. For when he was engaged in a Sea-Fight
against the Venetians, and was standing on the Poop of his Galley,
his Son, fighting valiantly at the Forecastle, was shot by an Arrow
in the Breast, and fell wounded to the Death; a Mishap whereat
his Comrades were sorely shaken, and Fear came upon the whole
Ship’s Company. But Lampa, hot with the Spirit of Battle, and more
mindful of his Country’s Service and his own Glory than of his Son,
ran forward to the spot, loftily rebuked the agitated Crowd, and
ordered his Son’s Body to be cast into the Deep, telling them for
their Comfort that the Land could never have afforded his Boy a
nobler Tomb. And then, renewing the Fight more fiercely than ever,
he achieved the Victory.” (_Benvenuto of Imola_, in _Comment. on
Dante, in Muratori, Antiq._ i. 1146.)

(“Yet like an English General will I die,
And all the Ocean make my spacious Grave;
Women and Cowards on the Land may lie,
The Sea’s the Tomb that’s proper for the Brave!”
—_Annus Mirabilis_.)

[20] The particulars of the battle are gathered from _Ferretus
Vicentinus_, in _Murat._ ix. 985 _seqq._; _And. Dandulo_, in xii.
407–408; _Navagiero_, in xxiii. 1009–1010; and the Genoese Poem as
before.

[21] _Navagiero_, u.s. Dandulo says, “after a few days he died of
grief”; Ferretus, that he was killed in the action and buried at
Curzola.

[22] For the funeral, a MS. of Cibo Recco quoted by _Jacopo Doria_ in
_La Chiesa di San Matteo descritta_, etc., Genova, 1860, p. 26. For
the date of arrival the poem so often quoted:—

“_De Oitover_, a zoia, _a seze di_
Lo nostro ostel, con gran festa
En nostro porto, a or di sesta
Domine De restitui.”

[23] S. Matteo was built by Martin Doria in 1125, but pulled down
and rebuilt by the family in a slightly different position in
1278. On this occasion is recorded a remarkable anticipation of
the feats of American engineering: “As there was an ancient and
very fine picture of Christ upon the apse of the Church, it was
thought a great pity that so fine a work should be destroyed. And
so they contrived an ingenious method by which the apse bodily was
transported without injury, picture and all, for a distance of 25
ells, and firmly set upon the foundations where it now exists.”
(_Jacopo de Varagine_ in _Muratori_, vol. ix. 36.)

The inscription on S. Matteo regarding the battle is as
follows:—“_Ad Honorem Dei et Beate Virginis Marie Anno MCCLXXXXVIII
Die Dominico VII Septembris iste Angelus captus fuit in Gulfo
Venetiarum in Civitate Scursole et ibidem fuit prelium Galearum
LXXVI Januensium cum Galeis LXXXXVI Veneciarum. Capte fuerunt
LXXXIIII per Nobilem Virum Dominum Lambam Aurie Capitaneum et
Armiratum tunc Comunis et Populi Janue cum omnibus existentibus
in eisdem, de quibus conduxit Janue homines vivos carceratos VII
cccc et Galeas XVIII, reliquas LXVI fecit cumburi in dicto Gulfo
Veneciarum. Qui obiit Sagone I. MCCCXXIII._” It is not clear to
what the _Angelus_ refers.

[24] _Rampoldi, Ann. Musulm._ ix. 217.

[25] _Jacopo Doria_, p. 280.

[26] _Murat._ xxiii. 1010. I learn from a Genoese gentleman, through
my friend Professor Henry Giglioli (to whose kindness I owe the
transcript of the inscription just given), that a faint tradition
exists as to the place of our traveller’s imprisonment. It is
alleged to have been a massive building, standing between the
_Grazie_ and the Mole, and bearing the name of the _Malapaga_,
which is now a barrack for Doganieri, but continued till
comparatively recent times to be used as a civil prison. “It is
certain,” says my informant, “that men of fame in arms who had
fallen into the power of the Genoese _were_ imprisoned there, and
among others is recorded the name of the Corsican Giudice dalla
Rocca and Lord of Cinarca, who died there in 1312;” a date so
near that of Marco’s imprisonment as to give some interest to the
hypothesis, slender as are its grounds. Another Genoese, however,
indicates as the scene of Marco’s captivity certain old prisons
near the Old Arsenal, in a site still known as the _Vico degli
Schiavi_. (_Celesia, Dante in Liguria_, 1865, p. 43.) [Was not the
place of Polo’s captivity the basement of the _Palazzo del Capitan
del Popolo_, afterwards _Palazzo del Comune al Mare_, where the
Customs (_Dogana_) had their office, and from the 15th century the
_Casa_ or _Palazzo di S. Giorgio?_—H. C.]

[27] The Treaty and some subsidiary documents are printed in the
Genoese _Liber Jurium_, forming a part of the _Monumenta Historiae
Patriae_, published at Turin. (See _Lib. Jur._ II. 344, _seqq._)
Muratori in his Annals has followed John Villani (Bk. VIII. ch. 27)
in representing the terms as highly unfavourable to Venice. But for
this there is no foundation in the documents. And the terms are
stated with substantial accuracy in Navagiero. (_Murat. Script._
xxiii. 1011.)

[28] _Paulin Paris, Les Manuscrits François de la Bibliothèque du Roi_,
ii. 355.

[29] Though there is no precise information as to the birth or death
of this writer, who belonged to a noble family of Lombardy, the
Bellingeri, he can be traced with tolerable certainty as in life in
1289, 1320, and 1334. (See the Introduction to his Chronicle in the
Turin _Monumentà_, _Scriptores_ III.)

[30] There is another MS. of the _Imago Mundi_ at Turin, which has
been printed in the _Monumenta_. The passage about Polo in that
copy differs widely in wording, is much shorter, and contains no
date. But it relates his capture as having taken place at _Là
Glazà_, which I think there can be no doubt is also intended for
Ayas (sometimes called _Giàzza_), a place which in fact is called
_Glaza_ in three of the MSS. of which various readings are given in
the edition of the Société de Géographie (p. 535).

[31]

“_E per meio esse aregordenti
De si grande scacho mato
Correa mille duxenti
Zonto ge novanta e quatro._”

The Armenian Prince Hayton or Héthum has put it under 1293. (See
_Langlois, Mém. sur les Relations de Gênes avec la Petite-Arménie_.)

VII. RUSTICIANO OR RUSTICHELLO OF PISA, MARCO POLO’S FELLOW-PRISONER
AT GENOA, THE SCRIBE WHO WROTE DOWN THE TRAVELS.

38. We have now to say something of that Rusticiano to whom all who value Polo’s book are so much indebted.

[Sidenote: Rusticiano, perhaps a prisoner from Meloria.]

The relations between Genoa and Pisa had long been so hostile that it was only too natural in 1298 to find a Pisan in the gaol of Genoa. An unhappy multitude of such prisoners had been carried thither fourteen years before, and the survivors still lingered there in vastly dwindled numbers. In the summer of 1284 was fought the battle from which Pisa had to date the commencement of her long decay. In July of that year the Pisans, at a time when the Genoese had no fleet in their own immediate waters, had advanced to the very port of Genoa and shot their defiance into the proud city in the form of silver-headed arrows, and stones belted with scarlet.[1] They had to pay dearly for this insult. The Genoese, recalling their cruisers, speedily mustered a fleet of eighty-eight galleys, which were placed under the command of another of that illustrious House of Doria, the Scipios of Genoa as they have been called, Uberto, the elder brother of Lamba. Lamba himself with his six sons, and another brother, was in the fleet, whilst the whole number of Dorias who fought in the ensuing action amounted to 250, most of them on board one great galley bearing the name of the family patron, St. Matthew.[2]

The Pisans, more than one-fourth inferior in strength, came out boldly, and the battle was fought off the Porto Pisano, in fact close in front of Leghorn, where a lighthouse on a remarkable arched basement still marks the islet of MELORIA, whence the battle got its name. The day was the 6th of August, the feast of St. Sixtus, a day memorable in the Pisan Fasti for several great victories. But on this occasion the defeat of Pisa was overwhelming. Forty of their galleys were taken or sunk, and upwards of 9000 prisoners carried to Genoa. In fact so vast a sweep was made of the flower of Pisan manhood that it was a common saying then: “_Che vuol veder Pisa, vada a Genova_!” Many noble ladies of Pisa went in large companies on foot to Genoa to seek their husbands or kinsmen: “And when they made enquiry of the Keepers of the Prisons, the reply would be, ‘Yesterday there died thirty of them, to-day there have died forty; all of whom we have cast into the sea; and so it is daily.’”[3]

A body of prisoners so numerous and important naturally exerted themselves in the cause of peace, and through their efforts, after many months of negotiation, a formal peace was signed (15th April, 1288). But through the influence, as was alleged, of Count Ugolino (Dante’s) who was then in power at Pisa, the peace became abortive; war almost immediately recommenced, and the prisoners had no release.[4] And, when the 6000 or 7000 Venetians were thrown into the prisons of Genoa in October 1298, they would find there the scanty surviving remnant of the Pisan Prisoners of Meloria, and would gather from them dismal forebodings of the fate before them.

It is a fair conjecture that to that remnant Rusticiano of Pisa may have belonged.

We have seen Ramusio’s representation of the kindness shown to Marco during his imprisonment by a certain Genoese gentleman who also assisted him to reduce his travels to writing. We may be certain that this Genoese gentleman is only a distorted image of Rusticiano, the Pisan prisoner in the gaol of Genoa, whose name and part in the history of his hero’s book Ramusio so strangely ignores. Yet patriotic Genoese writers in our own times have striven to determine the identity of this their imaginary countryman![5]

[Sidenote: Rusticiano, a person known from other sources.]

39. Who, then, was Rusticiano, or, as the name actually is read in the oldest type of MS., “Messire Rustacians de Pise”?

Our knowledge of him is but scanty. Still something is known of him besides the few words concluding his preamble to our Traveller’s Book, which you may read at pp. 1–2 of the body of this volume.

In Sir Walter Scott’s “Essay on Romance,” when he speaks of the new mould in which the subjects of the old metrical stories were cast by the school of prose romancers which arose in the 13th century, we find the following words:—

“Whatever fragments or shadows of true history may yet remain
hidden under the mass of accumulated fable which had been heaped
upon them during successive ages, must undoubtedly be sought in
the metrical romances.... But those prose authors who wrote under
the imaginary names of RUSTICIEN DE PISE, Robert de Borron, and
the like, usually seized upon the subject of some old minstrel;
and recomposing the whole narrative after their own fashion, with
additional character and adventure, totally obliterated in that
operation any shades which remained of the original and probably
authentic tradition,” &c.[6]

Evidently, therefore, Sir Walter regarded Rustician of Pisa as a person belonging to the same ghostly company as his own Cleishbothams and Dryasdusts. But in this we see that he was wrong.

In the great Paris Library and elsewhere there are manuscript volumes containing the stories of the Round Table abridged and somewhat clumsily combined from the various Prose Romances of that cycle, such as _Sir Tristan_, _Lancelot_, _Palamedes_, _Giron le Courtois_, &c., which had been composed, it would seem, by various Anglo-French gentlemen at the court of Henry III., styled, or styling themselves, Gasses le Blunt, Luces du Gast, Robert de Borron, and Hélis de Borron. And these abridgments or recasts are professedly the work of _Le Maistre Rusticien de Pise_. Several of them were printed at Paris in the end of the 15th and beginning of the 16th centuries as the works of Rusticien de Pise; and as the preambles and the like, especially in the form presented in those printed editions, appear to be due sometimes to the original composers (as Robert and Hélis de Borron) and sometimes to Rusticien de Pise the recaster, there would seem to have been a good deal of confusion made in regard to their respective personalities.

From a preamble to one of those compilations which undoubtedly belongs to Rustician, and which we shall quote at length by and bye, we learn that Master Rustician “translated” (or perhaps _transferred?_) his compilation from a book belonging to King Edward of England, at the time when that prince went beyond seas to recover the Holy Sepulchre. Now Prince Edward started for the Holy Land in 1270, spent the winter of that year in Sicily, and arrived in Palestine in May 1271. He quitted it again in August, 1272, and passed again by Sicily, where in January, 1273, he heard of his father’s death and his own consequent accession. Paulin Paris supposes that Rustician was attached to the Sicilian Court of Charles of Anjou, and that Edward “may have deposited with that king the Romances of the Round Table, of which all the world was talking, but the manuscripts of which were still very rare, especially those of the work of Helye de Borron[7] ... whether by order, or only with permission of the King of Sicily, our Rustician made haste to read, abridge, and re-arrange the whole, and when Edward returned to Sicily he recovered possession of the book from which the indefatigable Pisan had extracted the contents.”

But this I believe is, in so far as it passes the facts stated in Rustician’s own preamble, pure hypothesis, for nothing is cited that connects Rustician with the King of Sicily. And if there be not some such confusion of personality as we have alluded to, in another of the preambles, which is quoted by Dunlop as an utterance of Rustician’s, that personage would seem to claim to have been a comrade in arms of the two de Borrons. We might, therefore, conjecture that Rustician himself had accompanied Prince Edward to Syria.[8]

[Sidenote: Character of Rustician’s Romance compilations.]

40. Rustician’s literary work appears from the extracts and remarks of Paulin Paris to be that of an industrious simple man, without method or much judgment. “The haste with which he worked is too perceptible; the adventures are told without connection; you find long stories of Tristan followed by adventures of his father Meliadus.” For the latter derangement of historical sequence we find a quaint and ingenuous apology offered in Rustician’s epilogue to Giron le Courtois:—

“Cy fine le Maistre Rusticien de Pise son conte en louant et
regraciant le Père le Filz et le Saint Esperit, et ung mesme Dieu,
Filz de la Benoiste Vierge Marie, de ce qu’il m’a doné grace, sens,
force, et mémoire, temps et lieu, de me mener à fin de si haulte
et si noble matière come ceste-cy dont j’ay traicté les faiz et
proesses recitez et recordez à mon livre. Et se aucun me demandoit
pour quoy j’ay parlé de Tristan avant que de son père le Roy
Meliadus, je respons que ma matière n’estoist pas congneue. Car je
ne puis pas scavoir tout, ne mettre toutes mes paroles par ordre.
Et ainsi fine mon conte. Amen.”[9]

In a passage of these compilations the Emperor Charlemagne is asked whether in his judgment King Meliadus or his son Tristan were the better man? The Emperor’s answer is: “I should say that the King Meliadus was the better man, and I will tell you why I say so. As far as I can see, everything that Tristan did was done for Love, and his great feats would never have been done but under the constraint of Love, which was his spur and goad. Now that never can be said of King Meliadus! For what deeds he did, he did them not by dint of Love, but by dint of his strong right arm. Purely out of his own goodness he did good, and not by constraint of Love.” “It will be seen,” remarks on this Paulin Paris, “that we are here a long way removed from the ordinary principles of Round Table Romances. And one thing besides will be manifest, viz., that Rusticien de Pise was no Frenchman!”[10]

The same discretion is shown even more prominently in a passage of one of his compilations, which contains the romances of Arthur, Gyron, and Meliadus (No. 6975—see last note but one):—

“No doubt,” Rustician says, “other books tell the story of the
Queen Ginevra and Lancelot differently from this; and there were
certain passages between them of which the Master, in his concern
for the honour of both those personages, will say not a word.”
Alas, says the French Bibliographer, that the copy of Lancelot,
which fell into the hands of poor Francesca of Rimini, was not one
of those _expurgated_ by our worthy friend Rustician![11]

[Sidenote: Identity of the Romance Compiler with Polo’s fellow-prisoner.]

41. A question may still occur to an attentive reader as to the identity of this Romance-compiler Rusticien de Pise with the Messire _Rustacians de Pise_, of a solitary MS. of Polo’s work (though the oldest and most authentic), a name which appears in other copies as _Rusta Pisan_, _Rasta Pysan_, _Rustichelus Civis Pisanus_, _Rustico_, _Restazio da Pisa_, _Stazio da Pisa_, and who is stated in the preamble to have acted as the Traveller’s scribe at Genoa.