Chapter I: The Origin of Florence

I.

The origin of Florence is wrapped in great obscurity, and little light is to be derived from chroniclers, who either avoided the subject altogether or clouded it over with legends. Much has been written of late touching these chroniclers and on the value and varying credibility of their accounts. But in endeavouring to ascertain everything, and push research too subtly, long and learned disputes have sometimes arisen on particulars which can never, perhaps, be verified and are scarcely worth knowing, while more significant and easily investigated points have been left untouched. By this method some risk is incurred of building up from those writers a species of occult science for the sole benefit of the initiated, whereas all that is absolutely known of the origin of Florence may be expressed in a few words.

The Florentine Commune being of tardier birth than many others, its historians and chroniclers were likewise of later date, since no commune possesses a written history until conscious of its own personality. Thus, it was only in the twelfth century that yearly records were first started, registering some of the more important events of Florence, giving dates, and names of places and persons, while, at the same time, lists were made of the Consuls, the first magistrates of the Commune, and afterwards supplemented with the names of the Podestà, who succeeded to the Consuls. These magistrates being changed yearly, and even more frequently, this catalogue served as a chronological guide, and was soon converted into a register of contemporaneous events in the town.

(_Bas-relief now in the Etruscan Museum, Florence._)

[_To face page 39._]

A very early fragment of these annals is preserved in the Vatican, and is written on the back of a sheet forming part of a codex[13] of Longobard laws. It contains eighteen records, running from 1110 to 1173, in different handwritings, all, however, of the twelfth century, with some blunders and no chronological arrangement. Nevertheless these records are of much importance, being the earliest we possess. A similar and longer series of records of much later date, running from 1107 to 1247, is to be found in a thirteenth-century MS.[14] in the National Library at Florence.

Both collections have been recently republished and illustrated by Dr. Hartwig, under the title of "Annales florentini," i. and "Annales florentini," ii.[15] The Codex containing the second series also comprises the oldest list extant of Consuls and Podestà, from 1196 to 1267, and has been rendered more complete by the results of fresh research.[16]

Other and similar records must have been certainly made, first in Latin, then in Italian, and, in passing from this family to that, from hand to hand, enlarged, revised, and altered according to the taste, or even the fancy, of their transcribers. But, from the remains of those records and all matter copied from them by the chroniclers, it may be inferred with almost absolute certainty that they told little or nothing of the origin of the Commune. We are therefore inclined to believe that this was neither the outcome of virulent conflict nor of downright revolution, for either would have been undoubtedly registered in the annals, but that it gradually evolved and developed amid struggles of secondary importance.

If in these days we desire to ascertain the origin of the Florentine Commune, it is only natural that older generations should have felt even a keener interest in the theme. They, however, lacked the art and critical method enabling us to track and often lay bare the darkest and most remote periods of history by means of public documents, although many now perished must have been at their disposal. But our forefathers were readier to draw on their own imagination, and thus a legend regarding the origin of the city was created, and soon became widely diffused.

The primary germ from which this legend was developed and expanded must date from the twelfth century, seeing that it was known and recorded by the chronicler Sanzanome, who wrote during the first years of the thirteenth century. It cannot be much older than this, seeing that the events and dates to which it alludes, in however vague and shadowy a fashion, carry it down beyond the eleventh century. Several inedited copies of this legend are still to be found in Florentine libraries,[17] and it has been published in three different compilations. The most ancient of these, in Latin, is contained in a codex dating from the end of the thirteenth or beginning of the fourteenth century.[18] The second, in Italian, is in a Lucchese MS.,[19] compiled between 1290 and 1342; at one point it gives a record of 1264,[20] and was probably written at that time. The third and later version, known as the "Libro fiesolano", is comprised in an Italian codex dated 1382, in the Marucellian Library at Florence, was discovered by Signor Gargani and published by him in 1854.[21] Dr. Hartwig discovered the second, which is identical, save in language, with the first, and published all three under the title of "Chronica de Origine Civitatis,"[22] found in the Lucca MS.; although in other MSS. it is styled "Memoria del Nascimento di Firenze."

Such was the material at the service of the old chroniclers, and all they had to rely upon regarding the origin of Florence. The earliest chronicler of whom any remains are extant is the judge and notary Sanzanome, who, as already noted by us, wrote his "Gesta Florentinorum" at the beginning of the thirteenth century. We find him mentioned more than once in Florentine documents from 1188-1245.[23] Although we cannot be certain that this name always referred to the same individual, it is certain that the same chronicler records his presence in the war of Semifonte in the year 1202, and in that of Montalto in 1207. Besides, his work is found in a Florentine codex of the thirteenth century, and if not in his own hand, in the character of about the same period.[24] This first attempt at Florentine history, written in Latin by a judge and notary, supposed by Milanesi and Hartwig to have been a native of a neighbouring town, but resident in Florence, has a stamp of its own, very different from that of all subsequent Florentine chronicles. Sanzanome says nothing as to the origin of the Commune and its internal constitution. After a vague and hasty allusion to the old legend,[25] he starts with the war and destruction of Fiesole in 1125, "cum eius occasione Florentia sumpsisset originem." Thus, from the beginning, he shows us the Commune already established, with its consuls and captains, and proceeds to recount its conflicts with neighbouring powers in a stilted, rhetorical fashion, with uncertain and often erroneous dates, and with speeches in strained imitation of ancient Roman historians. Consequently some writers refused to assign any historic value to his work. But, on the other hand, critics of greater weight and impartiality, such as Hartwig, Hegel, and Paoli, have recognised that the work of this notary, who was almost a precursor of the fifteenth-century humanists, is a literary phenomenon, and that the fact of its isolation makes it the more remarkable as a proof of ancient Florentine culture, and also because we find beneath its rhetorical flourishes much useful information on the early history of Florence.

Hence all the other chroniclers had to face one and the same problem: how to write a history, or even a bare chronicle of the earliest beginnings of Florence, from the scant and fragmentary accounts at their disposal? The notary Sanzanome shirked the difficulty by saying nothing of the foundation of the town, and then expanding his narrative with rhetorical flights, fictitious speeches, and descriptions of battles, in which his own fancy and imitation of the classics played the main part. But this method was neither congenial nor possible to the simpler folk of a later day, who sought to write as they spoke, and whose culture was slighter, or at all events very different from the notary's. These chroniclers, therefore, had no basis to build upon save one legend and a few scraps of information that could not possibly satisfy their patriotic pride.

Fortunately for their purpose, just at this time--namely, towards the middle of the thirteenth century--an event of great literary importance occurred, serving to put the Florentine chroniclers on a new track. A Dominican monk, one Martin of Troppau, in Bohemia, surnamed therefore _Oppaviensis_, vulgarly known as Martin Polono, chaplain, apostolic penitentiary, and afterwards archbishop, wrote an historical work which, although of no remarkable merit, had an extraordinary and rapid success. It was a species of manual of universal history, chronologically arranged under the names of the various emperors and Popes, down to the year 1268. Its author afterwards carried it down to a few years later, with an introduction treating of the times anterior to the Roman Empire.[26] This book was mechanically arranged, and stuffed with anecdotes, blunders, and fables; but was the work of an eminent prelate, inspired with the Guelphic spirit. The author's method of arranging the events of the Middle Ages under the headings of Popes and Emperors served as a leading thread through the vast labyrinth. It is certain that his book was rapidly diffused throughout Europe, especially in Italy, and above all in Florence. As Prof. Scheffer Boichorst remarks: "Its first translator was a Florentine, and another Florentine, Brunetto Latini, the first to make use of it." In fact, the Florence libraries have numerous copies of it in Latin MSS. of the fourteenth century, while others of the same period comprise an Italian translation that, according to the results of learned research,[27] must have been produced in Florence towards 1279.[28] This fact alone is a most luminous proof of the rapid popularity and diffusion of the work. As it was a common practice with the scribes of that period to insert alterations of their own in the works they copied out, it may have easily occurred to some transcriber of this translation to enrich it here and there with the more important of the few facts then known of the early history of their city. But as Martin Polono's work was only brought down to the end of the thirteenth century, and items of Florentine history had increased in number and extent, so it came about that all these additions forsook universal history and were solely devoted to that of Florence. In this way the former merely served, as it were, as an introduction to the latter; a result highly gratifying to municipal self-complacency.

One of the first works introducing Martin Polono's book, translated, shortened, re-written, and with several interpolated Florentine items, is that entitled "Le Vite dei Pontefici et Imperatori Romani," once attributed to Petrarch, and existing in several Florentine fourteenth-century codices. In this work, however, Florentine history is still given very secondary importance, and indeed when at last, after various sequels and alterations, it finally appeared in print in 1478, Polono's primitive method was still maintained by giving summaries here and there of the lives of the other emperors and Popes. But other versions soon appeared in which Florentine history filled a larger space.[29] In a fourteenth-century MS. of the Naples National Library, first examined by Pertz, we find Martin Polono's share of the work considerably curtailed, and the history of Florence not only much extended, but likewise carried down to 1309.[30] Here one begins to see that the writer was chiefly interested in Florentine events. Professor Hartwig was so struck by this fact as to be at the pains to extract everything relating to Florence from the MS., and print it apart, as one of the authorities probably recurred to by Villani.[31] In a chronicle attributed to Brunetto Latini the same purpose is still more clearly indicated. Some of the Florentine news contained in it were long and frequently extracted, printed, and employed; notably the list of Consuls and Podestà used by Ammirato, and a narrative of the Buondelmonti tragedy (1215), differing considerably from Villani's version of the tale. It was speedily decided that the author must have written in 1293, since he records an event of that year, and says that he witnessed it with his own eyes.[32] Later, this Chronicle was attributed to Brunetto Latini, although the narrative is carried down to a date when Dante's master must have certainly ceased to exist.[33] During his learned researches in Florence Dr. Hartwig discovered a MS. that, in all probability, is the original autograph of the Chronicle.[34] Although mutilated--starting only from 1181--this Codex is doubly precious, as it clearly shows the method on which this and many similar works were compiled. There is a middle column containing the usual mangled version of Martin Polono[35]; and here on the margins, between the rubrics and sometimes even the lines, are added notices of general history, drawn from other sources, and special records of Florentine events.

The history is thus brought down to 1249, where a gap occurs extending to 1285, from which year the author continues his narrative to 1303.[36] But in this second part the character of the work is entirely changed. Having no longer Martin Polono as a guide, he now forsakes that prelate's method. The affairs of the Empire and the Church are reduced to still smaller proportions, more space is given to those of Florence, and instead of being scattered haphazard over the narrative, they are now united and carried steadily on. Thus we see a real chronicle of Florence gradually developing before us and acquiring a special value of its own. Its discoverer, Dr. Hartwig, at first considered it an autograph, but finally conceived doubts on that score. The great disorder of the manuscript; its mutilated commencement; the gap between thirty-six years in the middle; the absence of certain records, comprised in certain excerpts from it, quoted by old writers; the discovery that many of these writers quoted from another MS. of the Chronicle belonging to the Gaddi Library; all this justified his statement that the problem could not be finally solved without the aid of the Gaddi Codex, which he had not yet been able to discover.

On the other hand, Professor Santini maintained, in a prize essay, that the Gaddi Codex could only be a copy of that found by Hartwig, and that the latter must be the mutilated original manuscript. After a short time the question was ultimately decided by another student of our Istituto Superiore, Signor Alvisi, who, having unearthed the Gaddi Codex in the Laurentian Library, found it to be a fifteenth-century copy.[37] Here the various fragments--arranged in separate columns in the original MS.--are joined with the remainder of the text, though often in an arbitrary fashion. Here, too, there is the gap between 1249-85, but the Chronicle, instead of starting from 1181, begins, like Martin Polono's first compilation, with Jesus Christ--_primo e sommo Pontefice_--and the Emperor Octavian. Thus, it may now be affirmed, that the Codex in the Florence National Library is a genuine and, as it were, photographic representation of the method employed for the earliest compilations of Florentine historiography. It allows us to see the author at work, as it were, before our eyes.

Another, but far less perfect, specimen of this kind of production is afforded by the Lucca MS., to which previous allusion has been made. The author carefully tells us that it was composed between the years 1290 and 1342. He transcribes the whole legend of the origin of Florence, and then gives his Italian _pasticcio_ of Martin Polono, beginning from the Emperor Octavian. But he intersperses it with "many things relating to the affairs of Tuscany, and especially of Florence ... the greater part being found in divers books on Tuscany, of which some contain more, some less" (_qual na più, qual na meno_). Having reached the year 1309 in this fashion, he continues his narrative by borrowing from Villani, several books of whose history had already appeared in 1341, and with this assistance carries his work down to 1342. He continues by reproducing a Latin description of Florence written in 1339, and then gives the Latin introduction that Martin Polono had added to his history. The compiler of this Lucca Codex avows that his method is neither logical nor chronological; but craves the reader's indulgence, saying that in this work he had first put together all the Italian and then all the Latin portions, with the intention of arranging them better afterwards, by fusing them together and writing the whole in Latin. This intention he seems to have found no time to fulfil. From this Codex also, all the portions relating to Florence were subsequently extracted and printed.[38] As may be seen, the compiler's method is always the same, although in this case heavier and more mechanical than usual, for lack of any inherent connection between the different parts. The only novelty consists in transcribing the entire legend to make it serve as an introduction to Florentine history; an example that, as will be seen, was afterwards followed by others.

But however flattering to Florentine self-love this system of fusing the history of the Commune with that of the universe might be, it was clearly apparent that the former remained crushed, as it were, by the contact. Hence even the fourteenth century witnessed attempts to expound it apart. Paolo Pieri begins his Chronicle from 1080, the year from which the other writers also date their earliest historical account of Florence, and continues it, with slight allusions to the Popes and slighter to the emperors, down to 1305, including the scanty Florentine records "gleaned from many chronicles and books, with certain novel matters seen by me, Paolino di Piero, and written _ad memoriam_." On the other hand, Simone della Tosa, who died in 1380, begins his "Annals" with a list of Consuls and Podestà (1196-1278), and then passes to the death of Countess Matilda (1115) and on to 1346, supplementing towards the close his meagre account of Florentine affairs with details about his own family. But simple summaries such as these, consisting only of a few pages, were more inadequate than ever to satisfy the needs of a city that now, in the fourteenth century, had already won a foremost place in Italy, was proudly asserting equality with Rome, and aspired to have a history similar to that of the ancient metropolis of the world.

Such was the ambitious problem that Giovanni Villani as shown by his own words, proposed to solve. In the year 1300, he says, "being in Rome for the Jubilee, admiring the grand memories of that city, reading the glorious deeds narrated by Virgil, Sallust, Lucan, Titus Livy, Paul Orosio, and other masters of history, who recounted, not the events of Rome alone, but likewise strange events of the universal world: I borrowed their style and form."[39] Reflecting that "our old Florentines had left few and confused records of past deeds in our city of Florence,[40] and that our city, the child and creature of Rome, was on the upward path, and about to achieve great things, whereas Rome was on the decline," I resolved "to bring into this volume and new chronicle all the events and beginnings of the city of Florence, ... and give henceforth _in full_ the deeds of the Florentines, and _briefly_ the notable affairs of the rest of the universe."[41] Thus, according to Villani, the course to be pursued was to connect the history of Florence with that of the world, as others had done before him, but in such wise that Florence should not be the loser, but rather play the chief part. Hence his work is no longer a mechanical mosaic; he arranges his history, dividing it in books and chapters, after the manner of the ancients. We do not know all the authorities from whom his work was derived, for this question has not yet been completely investigated. But we know that they were many in number. For general history, Martin Polono was still the main source; but Villani also drew from the "Gesta Imperatorum et Pontificum" of Thomas Tuscus,[42] the "Vita di San Giovanni Gualberto," the "Cronache di San Dionigi" (an Italian translation of which was printed--1476--before the original text), and the "Libro del Conquisto d'Oltremare," which was a history of the Crusades, translated from the French into almost every other language during the Middle Ages.[43]

That Villani is a very valuable authority in Florentine history dating from the end of the thirteenth century, is a fact well known to all, and need not be discussed here. As to the origin of the city, he has little that is genuinely historical to tell us. His accounts begin, as usual, from 1080, are more or less identical with those disseminated by other writers, not unfrequently charged with the same blunders, and often in the same words. This singular resemblance between many of the Florentine chroniclers when treating of early times, and remarked upon later, was easily explained so long as it was taken for granted that some chroniclers had copied from others. But when it could be proved, as was often the case, that the same resemblance existed even between totally independent writers, the problem was not so readily solved. For this reason, Prof. Scheffer-Boichorst, in noting the fact, after impartial and keen investigation, suggested the theory that all the different chroniclers had drawn from some common source, of which nothing was now known. Seeing that Tolomeo of Lucca, whose Annals were already concluded before Villani began to colour his design, often quotes from "Gesta" and "Acta Florentinorum," "Gesta" and "Acta Lucensium," the German critic assigned the name of "Gesta Florentinum" to what, in his opinion, must have been the original source used by all the chroniclers of Florence down to the beginning of the fourteenth century. This hypothesis became generally accepted as the most probable explanation of a fact that was otherwise inexplicable. But when attempts were made to precisely define the nature and limits of the "Gesta"--to define, not only its language, but in which year it was begun, in which ended, together with the style and exact character both of the work and its author--the question then stood on very disputable ground. Accordingly, I will leave discussions of this kind on one side, as beyond the sphere of a general outline. Besides, I must agree with Prof. C. Paoli[44] in considering that the "Gesta" cannot have been a strictly individual work, but rather a collection of Florentine news, originally of very meagre proportions, but gradually enriched by fresh annalistic matter and new additions, as it passed from hand to hand. Some compilation of this kind, but of greater weight and repute (now unluckily perished), must have fallen into the hands of various chroniclers, who made use of it in turn, unconscious that it had served others before them. And these chroniclers were again copied by several of a later period.

Villani begins with the Tower of Babel and the confusion of tongues and then passes on to the legendary origin of Florence, dividing it in chapters and expounding it as though it were genuine history, but inserting various alterations, to which we shall refer later on. He then proceeds with a general history of the Middle Ages, and from the year 1080 engrafts on this stock all the accounts of Florence he had been able to collect, and even colours these by a variety of other legends much diffused among the people at the time, and often, also, by the addition of fantastic considerations of his own. What amount of accurate knowledge can be derived from all this? Substantially we find a single legend, and a small number of historical facts of undoubted value, though not free from errors, floating, as elsewhere, in an ocean of events quite unconnected with Florence, intermixed with scraps of misty traditions or legends, arbitrarily interpreted and explained. Therefore, the first question to be decided is that of the origin and value of the legend itself. Can any historical information be derived from it, either directly or indirectly? The second question is: Can it be ascertained with any certainty what original nucleus of authentic information the "Gesta Florentinorum" must have contained? The latter at least presents no serious difficulty, seeing that when we compare the various chroniclers, particularly those who worked independently, and extract what Florentine material they used in common and often gave in the same words, the main point is won. But, after all this, and after trying to extract some substance (scant enough, as will be seen) from the legend, very little genuine information is gained. It is therefore an absolute necessity to seek the aid of all public and private documents contained in our Archives, and of all learned modern investigations regarding mediæval history in general, and that of Florence in particular. Florentine historical research, first inaugurated by Ammirato, was diligently pursued in the eighteenth century by Borghini, Lami, and numerous other scholars, down to the present day. Nevertheless, the definite results of these prolonged inquiries, this vast display of learning, were still very few. For instance, we find that even the illustrious Gino Capponi, after a short introduction to his History of Florence, is compelled, like the ancients, to leap to the death of Countess Matilda, and makes his first mention, so to say, of the Commune after it had already existed for some time. Then the history of almost two centuries, to the year 1215, or thereabouts, is summed up in twelve pages, and only from the thirteenth forward are events related really in full.

But in these days the study of mediæval documents has made extraordinary progress, above all in Germany, and accordingly the Florentine question has been again reopened. Dr. O. Hartwig was the first to apply his learning to the task, employing the scientific method. He not only examined all that was published on the subject, but made fresh researches in Italian libraries and archives, further aided by precious notes of documents newly discovered in Tuscany by D. Wüstenfeld. Thus, in the work from which we have frequently quoted, he was enabled to give a collection of valuable documents and of learned dissertations which have been already turned to account, will serve as a basis for future researches, and would be still better known and appreciated were they penned in a more popular style. Much has been found, very much read by Prof. Perrens, who has devoted his life to Florentine history, and already published eight volumes of his work. His first volume, of five hundred pages, only extends to the middle of the thirteenth century, and therefore treats of the origin of the city learnedly and at length. All Italians owe him gratitude for this; but it must be confessed that his untiring zeal, vast learning, and prodigious reading have not always resulted in a due amount of historical accuracy, and sureness of method. Treating of a period in which all has to be built up on a very scanty number of known facts, unless these facts are thoroughly ascertained disastrous consequences are apt to ensue. For example, in investigating the first origin of the Consuls, he still relies on the document of Pogna, dated March 4, 1101, in which they are named, and without remarking that Capponi, from whom, nevertheless, he continually quotes, had proved that, although long thought correct, this date was erroneous, and should be altered to March 4, 1181, Florentine style, the which signifies 1182 in the modern style. Thus Prof. Perrens introduces Consuls long before they were born.[45] Elsewhere he plunges into the very intricate dispute as to the jurisdiction exercised over their own territory by the Florentines of the twelfth century. He repeats with the old chroniclers that in 1186 Frederic I. deprived them of all jurisdiction beyond the city walls, but that they re-acquired it in 1188. He adds that on the Emperor Frederic's decease in 1190, his successor, Henry VI. "comme don de joyeux evènement, multiplie les privilèges." He fails to reflect that the patent quoted in support of the latter assertion bears the date of 1187, and that he gives the date in a note of his own.[46] How is the reader to disentangle this skein? As another example, we may add that the author gives as an historical fact the legendary tale of the origin of the Colombina festival held on Holy Saturday. The Florentines are sent to the Crusades by their archbishop, Ranieri, in 1099: that is several centuries before Florence possessed an archbishop. Pazzino de Pazzi, in reward for his feats of valour at the taking of Jerusalem, receives the _mural crown_ from Godfrey de Bouillon, together with the right to change his arms and adopt the crosses and dolphins, the which change was only effected by the Pazzi several centuries later.[47] Pazzino returns to Florence in triumph, mounted on a car, of which the description is given; and at a time when the Commune was not yet established,[48] is received in the style of a Roman conqueror by the people, the clergy, and the magistrates. He has brought three stones from the Holy Sepulchre, and these are the flints from which the sparks are still struck to fire the Car of the Dove. All this is derived from Gamurrini's "Storia genealogica," an utterly valueless work.[49] Readers may consider it strangely invidious on my part to be at the pains to refer to certain blunders contained in a work of which I am the first to recognise the merits, and by which I have often profited. But it seemed necessary to explain why, in spite of having praised, I should so seldom quote it. The work undeniably comprises abundant historic material, is written with vivacity and clearness, contains many keen observations, and does honour to an author to whom Italians are bound to be grateful. But although for all these reasons it is a book deserving attention, no possible use can be made of it, without continually verifying the authorities cited in it.

Here a word must be said touching another and far less imposing work, to which we have been able to refer with far greater security. Already, in certain short papers appearing in the "Archivio Storico Italiano," Prof. Santini had proved his power of keen research on the early history of Florence, and has now had the happy idea of collecting all the documents on the subject, both published and unpublished, existing in the Florentine Archives. After copying and verifying them from the originals, he is now bringing them out in a bulky volume. It would be well if he or other writers could complete the same task in all cities, or at least in those of Tuscany, which had so many ties in common. Meanwhile, his book will form a new and solid foundation for Florentine historic research. We are doubly grateful for his kindness in allowing us to examine his press proofs. Thus we have been enabled to profit by his forthcoming book in advance of its publication, and shall have frequent occasion to quote from it. Other works, unmentioned in the text, will be recorded in the notes for our readers' benefit.

II.

Turning away for the moment from codices and chroniclers, we now come to the legend presenting the first problem that has to be solved, or at any rate discussed. Undoubtedly this legend was very widely circulated among the people. Even the "Divina Commedia" (Par. xv. 125) tells us how the Florentine dame at her spinning wheel--

"Favoleggiava con la sua famiglia
De' Troiani di Fiesole e di Roma."

Nevertheless, it appears to have had a literary rather than a purely popular origin. In fact, it is only a strange medley of classical and mediæval traditions, chiefly taken from books, and more or less arbitrarily altered, regarding the siege of Troy, the flight of Æneas, and the origin of Rome; and as municipal pride sought to connect the latter with that of Florence, all the scanty and vague notices, or rather traditions, existing on the subject had been carefully scraped together. The legend begins with Adam, but quickly leaving him aside, strides on to the foundation of Fiesole by Atlas and his spouse, aided by the counsels of Apollonius the astrologer. Fiesole was the first city built; it was erected on the healthiest spot in Europe, and hence its name--_Fie sola_. The children of Atlas spread over the land and populated it. The eldest son was called Italo, and gave Italy its name; the third was Sicano, who conquered and named Sicily. The second son, Dardano, wandered farther a-field, and founded the city of Troy.[50] The legend next passes rapidly to the Trojan war, the flight of Æneas, and the foundation of Rome, of which city Florence is the favourite offspring. It then goes on to speak at much greater length, of Catiline, regarding whom so many particulars are given, that he must have been the subject of a separate legend which either, when united with the rest, at a later date, formed the so-called "Chronica de origine Civitatis," or was, more probably, anterior to this, and only amalgamated with it in subsequent compilations.

After conspiring against Rome Catiline came to Fiesole, whither the Romans pursued and attacked him, under their consuls Metellus and Fiorinus. The latter falling in battle, their army was totally defeated on the banks of the Arno. But Julius Cæsar came to avenge them, besieged and destroyed Fiesole; and then, on the same spot where Fiorinus had fallen, a new city was built, and called Fiorenza to commemorate his name. Catiline fled to the Pistorian Appennines, but was pursued there and routed. So great was the number of the killed, that a pestilence broke out, and from this Pistoia derived its name.[51]

[_To face page 59_.]

In the legend the nomenclature of Tuscan cities is always explained on the same principles, Pisa, for instance, being derived from _pesare_ (to weigh). For the Romans received their tributes there, and these were so numerous that they had to be weighed in two different places. This is why they spoke of the city in the plural, _Pisae Pisarum_. Lucca comes from _lucere_ (to shine), because it was the first city converted to the light of Christianity. When the Franks[52] marched against the Longobards in the South they halted at a place in central Italy, and left all their aged people behind them. Thus the city built on that site received the name, likewise in the plural, of _Senae Senarum_. Florence, however, according to the legend, derived its name from Fiorinus, although later writers declared it to be taken from the word _Fluentia_, because it stood by the river Arno; others, again, from the numerous flowers springing from its soil. It was built in the likeness of Rome, with a capitol, forum, theatre, and baths, and was consequently called Little Rome. Its friends are always the friends of Rome; the foes of the one are foes of the other.

After five hundred years, so runs the legend, _Totila flagellum Dei_ came and destroyed Florence, and immediately rebuilt the rival city of Fiesole. This clearly alludes to Attila, since he bore the title of _flagellum Dei_, and in the Middle Ages was the real type of the devastator and destroyer of cities. As he never came to Florence he was converted into Totila, who had been there, although never designated by the same appellation. This exchange of names was aided by their resemblance, nor is it the sole example the Middle Ages afford of the confusion of Attila with Totila. In the "Divina Commedia" ("Inferno," xiii. 148-9) we find Dante attributing the destruction of Florence to Attila, when he says:

"Quei cittadin che poi la rifondarno
Sovra il cener che d'Attila rimase."

And hereby he doubly deserts the legend; for, according to that, Florence was rebuilt by the Romans and then, naturally, on the pattern of Christian Rome, with churches dedicated to St. Peter, St. John, St. Laurence, &c., as in the Eternal City.

Thereupon more than 500 years[53] elapsed in peace; but then Florence, finally resolving to be revenged on its perpetual rival, suddenly attacked and destroyed Fiesole. At this point we may remark that, if Florence had been first founded in Cæsar's time, and adorned with Roman monuments at a later date; if, after 500 years,[54] it was destroyed by Totila, and then itself overthrew Fiesole after another interval of 500 years, the chronology of the legend clearly brings us to the eleventh century at least. If we also add that the assault and partial destruction of Fiesole really occurred in 1125, it follows that, as we have noted, the legend cannot have been framed before the twelfth century.

Here, then, it should end and give place to history. In fact, Sanzanome, the earliest of the chroniclers, begins his work with the destruction of Fiesole. But the "Libro fiesolano" sometimes introduces capricious turns in the framework of the legend, and at this point makes an addition worthy of note as an evidence of the mode in which these fantastic stories were built up. The added portion refers to the Uberti, powerful citizens always opposed to popular government in Florence. According to tradition, they came originally from Germany with the Othos. Evidently, however, this theory was repugnant to the author of the "Libro fiesolano," possibly an adherent of the Uberti, and he therefore remarks, with some heat, that, on the contrary, the Uberti were descended from Catiline, "most noble king of Rome," with Trojan blood running in his veins. Catiline's son Uberto Cesare had a Fiesolan wife, who bore him sixteen children; and he was afterwards sent by Augustus to reconquer Saxony, which had risen in rebellion. While in that country Uberto Catilina married a German lady of high position, and from this union sprang "the lineage of the good Ceto [Otho] of Sansognia." Thus it is false that the Uberti were "born of the Emperor of Germany, the truth being that the emperor was born of their race."[55] This addition, posterior to the rest of the legend, shows that the author desired to exalt the Uberti; but, remembering their constant hostility to the Florentine government, declared them descended from Catiline and his Fiesolan bride. Also, being unable to deny outright their Ghibelline proclivities and Germanic origin, yet unwilling to acknowledge their descent from the Othos, he converts them into the latter's progenitors. Thus the legend is brought into harmony with its compiler's views, or rather, with his intent of magnifying his friends.

Inquiry into the sources of this legend would only lead us astray, without throwing any new light on the origin of Florence, since the fable has no real historical value. We need only say that, besides Darses' "De excidio Troiae," the commentary to Virgil of Servius; Orosio's History, Paolo Diacono's Roman History, and the "Storia Miscella," &c., must have been consulted for its compilation.[56] Leaving the question aside, we may rather note that, although Villani and Malespini both give the legend as a preface to their histories, they not only refer to two separate compilations, but use them in a totally different way.[57] This is another proof that even if Malespini's chronicle were copied from Villani, it is not always an exact reproduction. He refers to the "Libro fiesolano,"[58] but enlarges it with two entire chapters of his own, containing a complete story, probably derived from some episode of the Catiline legend. And although teeming with the strangest anachronisms, it is better written and far livelier than the rest.

In this tale we find Fiorino converted into a Roman king, married to the most beautiful woman ever seen, appropriately named Belisca. After the defeat and death of her husband, Queen Belisca remained the captive of a wicked knight named Pravus, but Catiline causes him to be put to death, and carries off Belisca, of whom he is desperately enamoured. The queen, however, is in despair concerning the fate of her lovely daughter Teverina, imprisoned in the house of one Centurione, and adored by him. In kissing Teverina's beautiful hair this man had exclaimed: "It is these that enchain me, for lovelier locks have I never seen." On the day of Pentecost the mother attended mass in the Fiesole church, and with bitter tears bemoaned the loss of her child. Her prayer was heard by a serving-maid, who knew where Teverina was hidden, and revealed it to the weeping mother. On receiving the news, Catiline instantly attacked Centurione's palace, and, after a fierce struggle, succeeded in capturing him. The prisoner owed his life to Belisca's intercession; for, having regained her child, she desired to save him, dressed his wounds, and urged him to fly from Catiline's wrath. Centurione consented to escape, and having mounted his horse, implored permission to bid a last farewell to Teverina. But when she appeared, he caught her in his arms, and galloped away, followed by his men. The mother fainted from grief, and Catiline, "with all his barons," a thousand horse and two thousand foot, pursued the traitor to the castle of Naldo, ten miles off, and proceeded to attack him there. But at that moment news came that the Romans were marching on Fiesole, so he was obliged to hasten back there before the siege should begin. Thus ends the singular episode annexed to the legend, when, having lost its primitive character, it became a fairy tale while pretending to be history.

Villani, on the other hand, follows a more ancient compilation, and rejects the Belisca story. He, too, is acquainted with the "Libro fiesolano," makes some use of it, but considers it unauthentic exactly at the point where we find Malespini adhering to it. In fact, when recording the pretended descent of the Uberti from Catiline, Villani adds: "We find no proof of these matters in any authentic history."[59] Also, in trying, as far as possible, to give the legend a more genuine and historical appearance, he often inserts alterations drawn from the sources on which the legend itself was based, sometimes quoting Roman poets and historians such as Ovid, Lucan, Titus Livy, and, above all, Sallust, to whom he refers when adding certain historical particulars to the Catiline legends. A permanently instructive psychological fact is afforded us by the men of this period, and most of all by Villani. How was it that a contemporary of Dante--a man practised in affairs, cultivated, intellectual, and acutely observant--could mingle so much and such puerile credulity with great intelligence, culture, and common sense?

In short, what substantial information can be gleaned from the "Chronica de origine civitatis"? Besides the ambitious aim, common to nearly all the cities of Italy, of trying to trace their origin back to the Romans and Trojans, the "Chronica" wishes to impress upon us that the Etruscan Fiesole was the constant rival of Roman Florence, which could not prosper until the former was destroyed. Therefore, Catiline, the enemy of Rome, is the defender of Fiesole, Cæsar, Augustus, the emperors, are the founders, champions, and restorers of Florence, which is always described as being in the likeness of Rome and styled little Rome, Augusta, Cesarea, &c. Totila or Attila--that is, barbarians who overthrew the Empire--are likewise destroyers of Florence. Another legend of later date attributes the rebuilding of the city to Charlemagne, the restorer of the Empire. So at least the tale runs in Villani and Malespini; but there is no trace of it either in the "De Origine," or the "Libro fiesolano," both impregnated with Roman traditions only, and the legends of chivalry being as yet unknown to Florence. In fact, Villani remarks, when repeating the tale: "We find (it) in the 'Chronicles of France.'"[60]

We may accept as a certainty that the first origin of Florence was owed to Etruscan Fiesole, and that this was known even in the days of Dante is proved by his lines to the Florentines ("Inferno," xv. 61-3):

"Ma quell' ingrato popolo maligno,
Che discese da Fiesole ab antico,
E tiene ancor del monte e del macigno."

And Niccolò Machiavelli, leaving all legends aside (as Aretino had done before him), justly declared that the traders of Fiesole had begun from very remote times to form a commercial settlement on the Arno, at the point where the Mugnone runs into the river. So gradually a cluster of cabins arose, grew into houses, and finally became a rival city. But the city was entirely constructed by the Romans, though at what precise period is still unascertained. It is scarcely probable that the event can have occurred earlier than two centuries before Christ. Perhaps the city began to rise when, to protect Tuscany against Ligurian invaders, the Romans made a network of roads through the valley of the Arno; that is, when (according to Livy) C. Flaminius _viam a Bononia perduxit Arretium_, the which road crossed the Ponte Vecchio. Strabo says nothing of Florence; Tacitus and Pliny are the first to mention it. But in the second century of the Vulgar Era Florius already styles it _Municipium splendidissimum_, and records it among the cities which suffered most in the days of Sulla.[61] Recent excavations made in digging new sewers under Florence have furnished proofs that in Sulla's time the city must have already possessed buildings of no small importance, including an amphitheatre.[62] The restoration of Florence, after the serious injuries inflicted on it in Sulla's day, is generally attributed to Augustus, who is supposed to have made it the seat of one of the twenty-eight colonies founded by him, whence the name _Julia, Augusta, Florentia_. The "Liber Coloniarum" (p. 213, 6) numbers Florence among the colonies formed by the _Triumviri_ (45 B.C.), and it certainly must have been a colony in 15 B.C., when the city sent a deputation to Tiberius asking him to forbid the junction of the river Chiana with the Arno, on account of the damage this would cause (Tacitus, "Ann.," i. 79). But the weighty authority of Mommsen supports the view that, in spite of the testimony given by Florius, the colony of Florence was founded instead by Sulla.[63] The same date may be assigned to the construction of the oldest circuit of walls, existing during a great part of the Middle Ages, and some remains of which have been discovered in our own day.

_Discovered near the Campidoglio, Florence._

[_To face page 66._]

Florence would seem to have been built in the form of the ancient Roman _Castrum_, a quadrangle traversed by two wide and perfectly straight streets, crossing it in the centre at right angles and dividing it into quarters. The Campidoglio stood in the middle on the site afterwards occupied by the Church of Santa Maria in Campidoglio, and the Forum was near at hand, on the site of the now demolished Mercato Vecchio. There was also the amphitheatre, known in the Middle Ages as the _Parlascio_, of which some traces exist near Borgo de' Greci; a theatre (in Via de' Gondi.); a temple of Isis (on the site of San Firenze); and baths in the street still known as Via delle Terme.[64] Accordingly, it is not surprising that the city, which was then very small and limited to this side of the Arno, should have been called Little Rome, and sought to base its origin on Roman traditions. The whole spirit of its monuments spoke of Rome, and the same spirit was echoed by the minds and imaginations of those who invented the legend. Even now, after so many centuries, so many changes, we still find remains of Roman buildings, and of so-called Byzantine architecture, but no single trace of the real Gothic or Longobard style.

Florence gradually extended as time went on, and _borghi_ were built outside the walls, the largest of these suburban quarters being the _Borgo_, connected with the city proper by the Ponte Vecchio. In the second half of the eleventh century, and in the year 1078, if Villani's statement be correct (iv. 8), new walls were built to replace the palisades surrounding the _Borghi_. Villani may be accepted as an authority, now that he is known to have superintended the construction of the third and last circuit of walls begun in 1299 (viii. 2 and 31), and now almost entirely destroyed save for a fragment here and there.

For a long time after the epoch of the barbarian invasions the history of Florence is involved in great obscurity, and what little information we have on the subject is either entirely legendary or jumbled with legends.

In 405 Radagasius led a horde of Goths, mixed with other tribes, into Tuscany and lay siege to Florence. But the walls held out until the Roman general Stilicho came to the rescue, defeated the assailants, and put their leader to death. The resistance of Florence was greatly magnified, and Stilicho's victory attributed to a miracle. Tradition added that the battle having been fought on the 8th of October, the Feast of Santa Reparata, the Florentines inaugurated their Pallio races on that day, and founded the Church of Santa Reparata; but both these events were of later occurrence. The tradition merely serves to show how long Florence preserved the memory of its narrow escape from destruction.

Regarding the next century there is an absolute blank; but then comes the legend that even Villani accepts, relating how Totila, _flagellum Dei_, destroyed Florence and re-built Fiesole.[65] To this the chronicler appends a second tale to the effect that after the city had remained thus devastated and ruined for 350 years, Charlemagne summoned the Romans to join him in rebuilding the city in the likeness of Rome, and that it thus arose anew, adorned with churches dedicated, like those of Rome, to San Pietro, San Lorenzo, Santa Maria Maggiore, &c., and was also granted a territory extending three miles beyond the walls.[66] Here one sees that although the chronicler had already recorded, on the authority of the "De Origine," that Florence was rebuilt immediately after its pretended destruction by Totila, he thought that date premature, seeing that Florence really remained for long after in a very desolate and obscure condition, and therefore, to save trouble, he also jots down the posterior legend attributing instead the reconstruction of the city to Charlemagne, the saviour of the Empire.

What germs of truth can be gleaned from all this? Totila really entered Tuscany in 542, and sent part of his host to besiege Florence. Justin, the commander of the Imperial garrison there, then sought aid from Ravenna; and when the relieving force approached the city, Totila raised the siege and withdrew towards Sienna. Pursued by the Imperial troops, he succeeded in routing them, but instead of returning against Florence, directed his march towards Southern Italy. So at least runs the account given by Procopius, and also followed by modern writers.[67] The Goths, it is true, made another descent later, easily mastered Tuscany and Florence, and committed much cruelty there, though without destroying the city. These are the facts; all the rest was a legendary excrescence signifying that the Florentines endured a long period of obscurity and oppression, and only began to emerge from it in the time of the Franks.

In fact, the Longobard occupation of Tuscany took place towards 570, and we have two centuries of utter darkness. We find mention of one _Gudibrandus, Dux civitatis Florentinorum_, appointed by the conquerors; but nothing else is known to us. Amid the many calamities wrought by invasion, war, and harsh tyranny, not only was the trade, to which Florence owed its existence, entirely ruined, but many families escaped from the plains to safe places among the hills, and a good number accordingly took refuge in Fiesole, which city profited as usual by the ill fortune of Florence. And this to so great an extent, that during the latter half of the eighth century we find documents alluding to Florence as though it had become a suburb of Fiesole.[68] But soon, beneath Charlemagne's rule, times of greater order and tranquillity were inaugurated. Men began once more to forsake the hills for the valley; Florence began to prosper at Fiesole's expense. And as the Franks replaced the Longobard dukes by counts, so Florence too had its count, exercising jurisdiction throughout the territories of the bishopric that had been carved out of the old Roman division. This was the so-called _contado fiorentino_, stretching on the one side to a place called I Confini, near Prato, and thence towards Poggio a Caiano, sweeping round by the Empoli district, and conterminous with the borders of Lucca, Volterra, and the _contado_ of Fiesole.[69]

Charlemagne halted in Florence, and celebrated Christmas there in 786; he likewise defended the property of the Florentine Church against Longobard aggressions. This gave rise to the legend that the rebuilding of the city was his work. Regardless of anachronisms, Villani not only adds that many imaginary privileges were conceded by him, but attributes to this period the birth of the Commune which only took place several centuries later. "Charles," he tells us, "created many knights, and granted privileges to the city by rendering free and independent the Commune, its inhabitants, and the _contado_, with all dwellers therein, for three miles round, inclusive of resident strangers from other parts. For this reason many men returned to the said city, and framed its government after the Roman mode, namely, with two consuls and a council of one hundred senators."[70] But this addition is made by the chronicler, and in a more arbitrary way than the legend itself.

Nor was this all. Not Charlemagne only, but likewise Otho I., the regenerator of the German Empire, must be necessarily the patron of Florence, "because," continues the chronicler, "it had always appertained to the Romans and been faithful to the Empire."[71] In the year 955 the emperor halted in Florence on the way to Rome for his coronation, and on this occasion the chronicler makes him grant the city a territory of six miles in extent, that is, one as big again, but no less imaginary, than that bestowed by Charlemagne. Villani goes on to relate how Otho established peace in Italy, overthrew tyrants, and left many of his barons settled in Lombardy and Tuscany, the Counts Guidi and Uberti among the rest. He fails to reflect that some of these Tuscan families were of much earlier origin, and that even in his own day the leading nobles of the _contado_ bore the name of Cattani Lombardi, in remembrance of their Longobard descent. Also, he again forgets that Florence was not then a free city to whom the emperor could concede a portion of territory, which, as we have seen, already belonged to his own jurisdiction, and, towards Fiesole at least, could not possibly be of six miles in extent.[72]

Another fabulous narrative, also given by Villani, is that of the destruction of Fiesole in 1010. On the day of St. Romolo's feast the Florentines, bent on revenge, are supposed to have entered the rival city with arms concealed under their clothes, and suddenly drawing their weapons and summoning comrades hidden in ambush, to have rushed through the streets, seizing everything and destroying all houses and buildings excepting the bishop's palace, the cathedral, two or three churches, and the fortress, which refused to surrender. After this, safety was promised to all disposed to migrate into Florence, and many profited by the offer. Thus the two peoples were made one, and even their flags united. That of the Florentines bore the white lily on a red field, that of Fiesole a demi lune azur on a white field; and thus was formed the red and white banner of the Commune.[73]

According to Villani this union of two separate peoples proved the chief cause of the continual wars by which Florence was harassed, together with the fact of the city being built "under the sway and influence of the planet Mars, the which always leads to war and discord." Then again, as though forgetting he had already made the same statement regarding the times of Charlemagne, he repeats the almost equal anachronism that the Florentines "then made common laws and statutes, and lived under the rule of two consuls and a council of senators, consisting of a hundred men, the best of the city, according to the custom introduced in Florence by the Romans."[74] It is plain that he does not know how the Commune arose, but feels persuaded its origin was derived from Rome, and therefore records the fact as having occurred at the moment suiting him best, or seeming least improbable. But it is hard to see why he assigned the war and destruction of Fiesole to the year 1010 when aware that those events occurred, on the contrary, in 1125, as he afterwards relates in due place. The most probable explanation is, that finding the legend gave an account of the war and overthrow of Fiesole _more than five hundred years_ after the destruction of Florence by Totila, whose invasion occurred _five hundred years_ after the city was founded, the chronicler described the destruction twice over, namely, in 1010 and 1125; thus following first the legendary account, which had retraced its steps in a very vague fashion, and next the historical account, commonly known in his day. As for the causes of civil war being derived from the forced junction of two hostile nationalities, it may be observed that the diversity between the Germanic strain in the nobility and the Latin blood of the people, really constituted a strong element of discord, and this may have been felt, if not understood, by the chronicler.

It is certain that from the Frankish times downward the prosperity of Florence slowly but surely increased. Nevertheless it is true that, as Villani says, its whole territory bristled with the castles of feudal barons of Germanic descent, all hostile to Florence, and many of whom, safely ensconced on the neighbouring hill of Fiesole, were always ready to swoop down on Florentine soil.

In spite of this the geographical position of the city, on the road to Rome, proved increasingly advantageous to its commerce. As early as 825 the _Costitutiones olonenses_ of the Emperor Lothair proposed Florence, with seven other Italian cities, as the seat of a public school, thus attesting its importance even at that date. Besides, the German emperors nearly always halted there on their way to coronation in Rome. More often, and for longer periods, the Popes made sojourn there, whenever--a by no means uncommon occurrence--popular disturbances expelled them from Rome. Victor II. died in Florence in 1057, and had held a council there two years before; in 1058 Stephen IX. drew his last breath there; three years later Nicholas II. and his cardinals stayed in the town pending the election of Alexander II. Full of Roman traditions and monuments, in continual relation with the Eternal City, Florence was subject to its influence from the earliest times, and showed the Guelph and religious tendencies afterwards increasingly prominent in the course of her history. Towards the close of the tenth century many new churches arose within and without the city walls. At the beginning of the eleventh century the construction of an edifice such as San Miniato al Monte, in addition to the other churches built about the same period, affords indubitable proof of awakening prosperity and religious zeal. In fact, Florence now became one of the chief centres of the movement in favour of monastic reform that, after its first manifestation at Cluny, spread so widely on all sides. St. Giovanni Gualberto, of Florentine birth, who died in 1073, inaugurated the reformed Benedictine order known by the name of Vallombrosa, in which place he founded his celebrated cloister, and subjected many of the monasteries near Florence to the same rule.

(_Bas-relief by Benedetto da Rovezzano in the National Museum, Florence._)

[_To face page 74._]

Before long this religious and monastic zeal burnt so fiercely in Florence, that when its bishop, Pietro da Pavia, was accused of simony, all the people rose against him. The friars declared that he owed his high office to the favour of the emperor, and of Duke Goffredo and Beatrice his wife, and that he had bought their protection at a very heavy price. The multitude sided with the friars, and the quarrel was carried on for five years (1063-68), and with so much heat as to lead to bloodshed. The bishop, enraged by these accusations, and emboldened by the duke's favour, caused an armed attack to be made on the monastery of San Salvi near Florence. The first promoter of the religious movement, St. Giovanni Gualberto, was, fortunately for him, elsewhere at the time; but his altars were pillaged and several of his monks injured. This incident naturally added fuel to the fire, and St. Giovanni Gualberto, who had already inflamed men's minds by preaching in the city streets, now cast aside all reserve, and openly declared that no priests consecrated by a simoniacal bishop were real members of the clergy. The popular excitement rose to so high a pitch, that it is asserted that about a thousand persons preferred to die unassoiled, rather than receive the sacrament from priests ordained by a bishop guilty of simony.[75] Strange though it seem, this was by no means incredible in times of earnest religious faith!

Pope Alexander II. vainly endeavoured to pacify the people; vainly sent the pious, learned, and eloquent St. Pier Damiano to achieve that end. The holy man came with the words of peace, afterwards repeated in his letters addressed to _Dilectis in Christo civibus florentinis_. He censured simony, but likewise blamed too easy credence of the charge. It were better, he said, for the Florentines to send representatives to the Synod in Rome, whose authority would decide the quarrel; meanwhile they must remain quiet, without yielding to the blind and heinous illusion that had left so many to die without the "sacraments" to their souls' peril. Woe to those who seek to be juster than the just, wiser than the wise. Through too great zeal, they end by joining the foes of the Church. Croaking even as frogs (_velut ranae in paludibus_), they throw everything into confusion, and may be likened to the plague of locusts in Egypt, since they bring equal destruction on the Church.[76]

This movement much resembled that carried on about the same time by the Patarini in Milan against the simony of the archbishop. There too, as in Florence, St. Pier Damiano played the part of peacemaker, and there also many preferred to die unassoiled, rather than take the sacrament from simoniacal priests.[77] But, despite the resemblance of the two insurrections, they led to different final results, owing to the different conditions of the two cities, and the very diverse attitude respectively assumed towards them by the Court of Rome. At any rate, the exhortations of St. Pier Damiano had no effect in Florence. The Vallombrosa monks sent representatives to Rome, but only to declare before the Council, then in session, their readiness to decide the question by appeal to the judgment of God. Not only was their proposal rejected by Pope and Council, but they were also severely censured for suggesting it, although the Archdeacon Hildebrand, there present, who had already risen to great authority in the Church, tried to defend them, as he had previously defended the Patarini of Milan. The Council ordered the monks to withdraw to their monasteries, and abide in them quietly, without daring again to inflame minds already unduly excited. St. Giovanni Gualberto would have obeyed willingly now; but it was too late: he could no longer quell the storm he had raised. For when the populace heard of what the monks had proposed in Rome, they insisted on the ordeal by fire. The champion chosen for the purpose, already prepared and impatient to stand the test, was a certain Brother Pietro, of Vallombrosa, afterwards known by the name of Pietro Igneo, who, according to some writers, had been cowherd to the monastery, although others assert him to have belonged to the noble family of the Counts Aldobrandeschi of Sovana. Guglielmo, surnamed Bulguro, of the Counts of Borgonuovo, offered the monks a free arena for the ordeal, close to the Abbey of San Salvatore, in his patronage, at Settimo, five miles from Florence.[78] The bishop, however, not only rejected the challenge with indignation, but obtained a decree to the effect that whoever, whether of the Church or the laity, should refuse to obey his authority, the same would be seized, bound, and _not led, but dragged_ before the chief of the city.[79] Likewise the goods of all persons having fled in alarm were to be confiscated by the _Potestà_, that is, by Duke Goffredo, who favoured the bishop. Meanwhile, certain rebellious ecclesiastics who had sought refuge in an oratory,[80] were driven from it by force. Naturally, these measures only increased the heat of the popular fury. Pietro Igneo declared his readiness to pass through the fire, and, if need be, alone. On February 13, 1068, an enormous crowd of men, women (some about to be mothers), old people, and children, set forth to Settimo, chanting prayers and psalms by the way. There, by the Badia, two piles of wood were fired, and, as related by one who claims to have witnessed the sight, the friar passed through the roaring flames miraculously unhurt. This aroused an indescribable enthusiasm; the sky echoed with cries of joy, and Pietro Igneo, though unscathed by the fire, was nearly crushed to death by the throng pressing round him to kiss the hem of his robe. With great difficulty, and only by main force, some ecclesiastics succeeded in rescuing him.[81] The news flew to Rome with lightning speed, and then, when all the details reached the Pope's ear, he was compelled to bow to the miracle. The bishop of Florence retired to a monastery; Pietro Igneo was named cardinal, made bishop of Albano, and worshipped as a saint after his death.

(_Bas-relief by Benedetto da Rovezzano in the National Museum, Florence._)

[_To face page 78._]

This reminds us of the other ordeal by fire proposed in Florence in 1498, and that led to Savonarola's martyrdom, shortly before the fall of the Republic, of which the birth and death would thus seem to have been preluded by similar events. For, albeit the account of the affair may have been exaggerated by party feeling and superstition, and although the terms of "Preside" and "Podestà" employed in the old narrative only indicate in a general way the ruling powers in Florence at the time, all shows that a new state of society had begun. We find that there was a Duke of Tuscany, a military president, apparently his representative in the city, and, what is more, a people which, though only appearing as a fanatic mob, is plainly conscious at last of its own strength, since it struggles against the bishop, resists both the duke and the Pope, and finally obtains what it desires. In addressing the Pope it assumes the title of _populus florentinus_; and is addressed by St. Pier Damiano as _cives florentini_. It is true, of course, that these were mere forms of speech imitated from the ancients; assuredly the Commune was still unborn, and much time had yet to elapse before its rise; but an entirely new condition of things had begun, in which the elements conducing to its rise were already in course of preparation. Accordingly, we must now retrace our steps, in order to study the question more closely.