The Visconti
“Maudire la puissance, c’est blasphémer l’humanité.”

The Visconti had now firmly established their dominion in Milan, a dominion destined, in the story of the unstable medi?val governments of Italy, to be equalled by few in duration, and by none in extent. For good or for evil the great city, with her command of the chief passes of the Alps for war and commerce, her wealth as the capital of the vast alluvial plain of Lombardy, was delivered into the hands of a race singularly fitted to use these natural advantages for the creation of a mighty State. The Visconti, as a family, were characterised by exceptional ability and tenacity, and above all, by a subtlety of brain and suppleness of conscience which, under the stress of ambition or necessity, induced a perfidy so quiet and so effectual that the Snake upon their shields became for all Italy a symbol of their political methods, and an object of horror and fear. The vices and weaknesses which ruined other Italian dynasties seemed to have little power over these Milanese princes. Hot and rash of blood in the earlier generations, they rarely allowed passion to override prudence; those of them who did were quickly rooted out. Even that most fruitful disorder in a reigning House, the jealous rivalry of its own members, could not avail to overcome their political coolness or sagacity, or sunder their union against a common enemy. With time this self-control 87became a habit of cold and passionless judgment, all-powerful in the management of men and States. Even the fatal weakness of remorse and superstitious fear, to which they were all prone, could not undermine them; they were able to parry their consciences, and delay repentance until their successors were old enough to carry on their unscrupulous policy. Nor did the arrogance and cruelty which tyranny bred in this sovereign race prove their overthrow. In spite of its record of crime, no retributive catastrophe ended the dynasty. It died out of itself, and we shall see the last of the Visconti sink into the grave under the burden of an empire greater almost than any other in Italy.

Il Gran Matteo, as posterity named the founder of the dynasty, was the prototype in character of all the great sovereigns who were to follow him. He ruled from the cabinet rather than from the saddle. Statecraft was his victorious weapon, and his calculating and passionless nature had its complement in a humanity remarkable for his time. But it needed not only his incomparable prudence and foresight, but also the strong arms of his three elder sons, Galeazzo, Marco, and Luchino, to assure his dominion and restore it to its old extent. The remaining years of the chief, as head of the Ghibelline party in North Italy, were spent in a constant warfare with the Guelfs and their allies, King Robert of Naples, and the Church. The awful papal ban fell again and again upon the Visconte and his subjects. Nevertheless Piacenza, Bergamo, Lodi, Como, Cremona, Alexandria, Tortona, Pavia, Vercelli, and Novara were brought one by one beneath his sway by the victory of diplomacy or arms. His success was embittered, however, by estrangement from his beloved first-born, Galeazzo, who coveted his father’s supremacy, and jealously resented the rivalry of his brother Marco. But Galeazzo’s hot temper had been chastened 88by exile and time, and in spite of their mutual anger, he supported his father’s policy with a wise loyalty.

The fortunes of the Guelf party sank low before the rapid growth of the Viscontean power. Its hereditary leaders in North Italy, the Marquises of Este, were entangled in an unnatural struggle with the Papacy, which was itself enfeebled by the exile of Avignon, and by the operations of its own selfish greed. But in 1319 the party gathered itself together once more for a mighty effort to overthrow the Ghibelline domination in Milan. The Cardinal Legate, Beltrando del Poggetto, in the name of Pope John XXII., formed a great league of the Guelfs against the Visconti, and hurled at them afresh the spiritual weapons of the Church. Matteo was summoned repeatedly to answer for his sins at the feet of the Pope. In 1322 he was cited finally before a tribunal of the Inquisition at Alexandria. Instead of him, his son Marco appeared there at the head of an army with banners spread. The Inquisitors hastily retreated to Valenza, where in security they solemnly cursed Matteo for twenty and five different crimes and heresies, and invoked every conceivable penalty upon him and his House, even to the fourth generation. Full remission of sins was offered to all who took arms against them.

The old Ghibelline chief, weakened by age and bodily infirmity, quailed before this onslaught. Many of his own adherents and kinsmen were deserting him. Milan, trembling under the ban of the Church and excited by the papal agents, was verging on revolt. Matteo summoned the offending Galeazzo, forgave him, and resigned to him the chieftainship. Retiring to a village at a little distance from the city, he died shortly after, full of years and sorrow.

Galeazzo and his brother Marco, bitter rivals, forgot for the time their mutual wrongs, and with the other 89sons of Matteo stood up in manful union against their foes. For fourteen days they concealed their father’s death from the Milanese, while Galeazzo calmed the city by conciliatory measures, and assumed the supreme power. The storm broke heavily upon them now. Immense numbers from all North Italy joined the standard of the Legate, which, impiously displaying the Cross in a worldly quarrel was carried towards Milan, with the avowed purpose of overthrowing the Visconti and restoring the Torriani. Monza and Piacenza fell (1323), and the capital itself was attacked, the suburbs sacked, and the walls closely blockaded. The straits of the Visconti appeared desperate. But the brothers fought with invincible spirit, and they were supported by the Emperor, Louis of Bavaria, who sent succour from Germany. The papal army itself began to dissolve through rivalries and dissensions, and sickness. The siege was soon raised, and early in the following year (1324) the Visconti took the offensive and inflicted a signal defeat upon the allies at Vaprio. Their fortunes now revived. Within the next few years they recovered many of the lost cities of their father’s State, and the Pope, realising the impossibility of overthrowing them, began to listen to emissaries from Galeazzo with suggestions for peace and reconciliation.

But the desire of the Visconte for a settlement of the long and exhausting strife was baffled by his own party and his own household. The other Ghibelline chiefs, especially the great Can Grande della Scala, viewed unwillingly the increase of the Milanese power. Marco Visconte, a splendid warrior, more skilled and daring in arms than any other Lombard of his day, but unlike the rest of his House none too wise—savio non fu troppo, says Villani—could not brook his elder brother’s supremacy. Their kinsman Lodrisio fiercely resented his own subordinate position. The citizens 90groaned under the heavy taxes exacted to pay Galeazzo’s great army of German mercenaries. Complaints of the Visconte’s arrogance, and information of his negotiations with the Pope, were carried by intriguers to the Emperor.

Louis descended into Italy early in 1327, at the general call of the Ghibellines. Galeazzo Visconte alone was silent, foreseeing that the Emperor’s appearance would inflame anew the partisan strife. Louis appeared shortly in Milan, followed by the Ghibelline lords of North Italy, chief among them Can Grande. He was received with great homage and ceremony and crowned in St. Ambrogio by two schismatic bishops, who alone dared to anoint his excommunicated head. The Visconti appeared to enjoy his full favour, and as vassals of the Empire were confirmed by him in various honours and privileges. But intrigue was busy at work, and the fair seeming was suddenly broken by a tragic event, if the chroniclers tell us true. Stefano, the youngest of Galeazzo’s brothers, as he was offering the cup to the Emperor at the banquet one night, was called upon by the suspicious monarch to taste the wine. Having put his lips tremblingly to it, he was struck with mortal sickness, and died shortly after. This evidence of intended treachery naturally inflamed Louis’ resentment against his hosts. The next day he summoned Galeazzo to a council, and seizing as a pretext the refusal of the prince to demand an enormous coronation gift from the almost revolting citizens, he arrested him, with his son Azzo and his brothers, all except Marco. The Visconti, surprised, could make no defence, and were carried off to Monza and thrown into the dungeons of the Castle there which Galeazzo himself had lately built.

Thus did the Visconti once more lose Milan. A governor, appointed by Louis, reigned in their stead. Marco, if he owed his escape to disloyalty, soon 91rued his mistake. The ruin of his house involved him too, and he wandered in poverty and exile. Louis’ high-handed act was, however, displeasing to many of his Ghibelline supporters, and he found it prudent to release Galeazzo at the end of a year, at the request of Castruccio, Lord of Lucca, the most powerful member of the Ghibelline party at that time. The Visconte, broken by his sufferings in prison, and unable to recover his State, joined his friend Castruccio, and died a few months later. His son and brothers succeeded soon after, through the intervention of Castruccio, in making their peace with the Emperor. For the promise of sixty thousand golden florins, Louis granted to Azzo, the dead prince’s heir, the title of Imperial Vicar of Milan, and the Visconti once more took possession of the city with the full approval of the people (1329).

Once restored to power, they were at little pains to pay the stipulated sum to the Emperor, who by this time was fast losing prestige in Italy. They reconciled themselves with the Church instead, and when the enraged Louis presented himself with an army beneath the walls of Milan, he was received with derision and jeers. The Emperor, enfeebled by the contempt and desertion of nearly all his partisans, was helpless against the renewed strength of the great Milanese House. He was glad to compound with Azzo and to reconfirm him in the position of Imperial Vicar.

From this moment began the unbroken prosperity of Matteo Visconte’s sons and of the great city which they ruled. Secure in the weakness of both Empire and Church from further interference, Azzo was able to devote himself to the expansion and development of his State. The short reign of this prince, who had won great fame for his prowess in the Tuscan wars with Castruccio, was wholly fortunate. The menace offered to its prosperity by the rebellious attempts of 92his uncle Marco was overcome by the death of that turbulent warrior, who was killed in 1329 apparently by a fall from a window in his nephew’s palace, though it was generally believed that he had been first strangled and then flung out by order of his kinsmen. The other enemy within the House, Lodrisio Visconte, was not so easily disposed of. Abandoning Milan, he allied himself with the Scaligeri of Verona, with whom the Visconti had come into inevitable collision, now that the weakness of their common Guelf foe had left the field of North Italy open to the rival ambition of these two great Ghibelline powers. In 1339 Lodrisio, with forces supplied by Martino della Scala, invaded the Milanese territory, and approaching the capital, spread terror and desolation everywhere. At Parabiago they encountered the Milanese, under Luchino Visconte, who, after a tremendous struggle, won a complete victory. Lodrisio was captured with his two sons, and imprisoned in a strong castle. A few months later Azzo died of gout, at the age of thirty-seven. In the brief years of his reign he had completely restored the power and prestige of his House. He left Milan fortified by new walls, beautified by new palaces, churches and towers, a city fairer and greater than that ruined by Barbarossa, and full of a rich, industrious and joyous life.

Azzo had no heir. He was succeeded by his uncles, Luchino, and the ecclesiastic Giovanni, who was now Archbishop of Milan. The two brothers thus held the whole dominion, spiritual as well as temporal. They worked together with rare unanimity for the aggrandisement of their House and State. Luchino pressed with his arms energetically against the Scaligeri, whose empire was fast receding before the attacks of the rest of the Ghibelline powers of North Italy, who in uniting with the Visconti to crush this predominant member of the party, were but smoothing the way for the rise of a State destined to be far greater than Verona ever was. The Milanese prince added many cities to the dominion of his House, and was the first to carry the fear of the Visconti across the Apennines into Tuscany, where he had almost acquired Pisa when recalled to Lombardy by the outbreak of war there.
93

TOWER OF S. GOTTARDO FROM THE CATHEDRAL

95Luchino was a careful ruler, thoughtful for the welfare and progress of his subjects, and just towards the lower classes. He promulgated new laws for the protection of the poor and weak, and for the encouragement of industry, and refrained from excessive taxation. Nevertheless, he had the same violent temper as his elder brothers, Galeazzo and Marco, and soon developed the characteristic vices of tyranny—lust, cruelty and suspicion. In Giovanni, on the contrary, all the rarer qualities of the Visconti appeared, the subtle brain, the self-control and power of biding their time, combined with a benignity which was never disturbed except to good purpose, so that while steadily pursuing ends as vast and ambitious as his brothers’, he still kept the respect and love of the people. He well knew how to influence the course of events without falling foul of his suspicious brother.

The younger princes of the House, however, the three sons of the dead Stefano, were less cautious, and soon incurred the wrath of their despotic uncle. He discovered, or perhaps invented, a conspiracy on their part to oust him from power, and drove them mercilessly into exile and poverty. The eldest, Matteo, took refuge with his wife’s family, the powerful Gonzaga of Mantua, but Bernabò and Galeazzo had to fly to France to escape from the tyrant’s snares. A confederate in their plot, Francesco della Pusterla, head of one of the great Milanese Houses, whose wealth and influence were necessarily a menace to the power of the Visconti, was betrayed into Luchino’s 96hands and beheaded, with his sons and his beautiful wife Margherita, who, according to the chroniclers, had rejected the unlawful love of the tyrant.

Luchino is said to have come himself to an unnatural death in his old age, through poison administered to him by his third wife, the young and lively Elisabetta della Fiesca, in whose hearing the suspicious husband, enraged by a report of light conduct on her part, had declared that he would light a fine fire and do the greatest act of justice which he had ever done in Milan. The accusations against this lady may, however, have been trumped up to justify the persecution which she and her son, Luchino Novello, and all the dead tyrant’s children, who had grown too arrogant for the peace of the State, had to suffer from the Archbishop after their father’s death. Giovanni imprisoned or banished them all. Towards his other nephews, the banished sons of Stefano, whom misfortune had chastened, Giovanni used a different policy. He won their loyalty and obedience by recalling them from exile, granting them lands and honours and making them his heirs, and about this time he obtained a solemn act from the General Council of the people, still nominally the ultimate authority in the community, recognising him and his nephews after him as the true, legitimate and natural Lords of the city, district, diocese and jurisdiction of Milan. Thus was the hereditary dominion of the Visconti—already an established fact—formally legalised by the will of the Commune.

Under the able rule of the Archbishop the power of the Visconti advanced steadily, but more by the gentle pressure of a scheming and cunning statesmanship than by the brute force of arms. His apparently peaceful temper had lulled the jealousy and fear of the other powers, when in 1350 they were thunderstruck by his secret acquisition of Bologna—the great object 97of contention between the two parties in North Italy—which Giovanni de’ Pepoli sold to him for a large sum. Corio, the fifteenth century historian, relates that Clement VI. sent a legate to the Visconte to demand its restoration to the Holy See, and to bid him renounce either the spiritual or temporal jurisdiction of Milan, since his exercise of both together was a scandal to Christians. The high-hearted Archbishop for answer unsheathed his sword in the midst of the Cathedral, and raising the Cross in his other hand, cried—This is my spiritual weapon, and with this sword will I defend my temporal empire undiminished. Summoned to defend his contumacy before the Pope, he sent his people to Avignon to provide lodgings and victuals for twelve thousand horsemen and six thousand foot soldiers. But when Clement heard of these preparations he called the envoys, and hastily reimbursing them with their charges, sent them back with a message to Giovanni excusing him from coming. Later historians throw doubt upon this circumstantial tale. And certainly it seems strange that the Pope should condemn the union of spiritual and temporal dominion. There is no doubt, however, that the Papacy was powerless to check Giovanni’s ambition, and was glad to confirm him in possession of Bologna for a price.

Giovanni’s method was to inflame by unseen agencies the party spirit in the cities which he coveted, and when both factions were exhausted, to step in with his money-bags and quietly establish his own dominion. Thus by a skilful manipulation of the vast wealth with which Milan supplied him he succeeded with little expenditure of blood in embracing more and more territory within his coil. In 1353 Genoa was yielded to him, and Milan for a short time became a naval power, defying the fleets of Venice. The importance of securing maritime outlets for a commercial community 98turned the Archbishop’s attention on the seaport of Pisa also. But here Florence interposed a barrier against both fraud and force, and though he plagued the Tuscan Republic grievously by invading her territories, raising the Barons of the Apennines against her and intriguing with her foes in Pisa and Lucca, she successfully prevented him from gaining a footing in Tuscany.

While the Visconti were thus extending their dominion far and wide and creating a sovereignty more powerful than any in Italy, the capital itself was making corresponding strides in wealth and civilisation. The strong and single government, though involving so much cruel sacrifice of rival interests and pride, and carried on by crafty and often iniquitous means, was for the general advantage of the people. The citizens lacked only freedom, and this very lack saved them from the awful faction struggles which hindered the progress of the neighbouring Communes. Under Azzo, Luchino and Giovanni Visconte, the city enjoyed an unexampled length of peace. No hostile banner was seen from the walls, no blood was spilt in fratricidal strife within. The Visconti employed foreign and professional troops in their wars, thus weaning their subjects from the habit of arms, dangerous to a tyrannic supremacy, and sparing them for more profitable work. All classes, noble and plebeian, engaged in commerce and industrial arts, and produced an ever increasing flow of wealth, wherewith these princes were able to pay handsomely for the hired support of their tyranny. Finding no opportunities of sedition or turbulence, the more restless spirits abandoned the city, and, joining the bands of military adventurers which roamed the country, they fought for any prince or community that chose to hire them. The general security of life and property in the Milanese State was assured by the severe and, on the whole, impartial 99justice of Luchino and his brother, and the wise statutes which they formed aided the development of trade and industry. Safe from depredating troops and robber bands, the fertile territory was brought to high cultivation, and wildernesses, untilled before, now submitted to the husbandman. The engineering art was actively practised in draining and irrigating the country and connecting the city by canals with the great river waterways.

One of the chief sources of Milanese wealth was the breeding of war-horses in the rich and well-watered pastures round the city. At the same time the Milanese merchants were travelling all over England, France and Flanders, buying fine wool, ‘with which in this city,’ says the fourteenth century chronicler Fiamma, ‘very fine and beautiful clothes are woven in great quantities and dyed with every different colour and sent to all parts of Italy.’ Silk was also manufactured here after 1314, when the silk-weavers of Lucca, disturbed by the invasions of Uguccione da Faggiuola and of Castruccio, abandoned their city for Milan. The constant wars abroad encouraged the armourer’s craft, of which Milan became one of the greatest centres in Europe. With wealth, a love of luxury and the soft pleasures of life grew in the people. Fiamma notes with disapproval the changes in the antique costume, the superfluous embroideries, the gold and silver and pearls, and the broad fringes used in dress, the richness of the meats, and the esteem in which masters of the culinary art were held, things conducive, according to him, of the soul’s damnation.

Both Luchino and Giovanni lived much in the sight of their subjects, keeping open Court and sharing in the public feasts and pleasures. The benevolent Archbishop was much beloved. One of his first acts of undivided sovereignty had been to release Lodrisio Visconte from the dungeon in which he had dwelt 100ever since Parabiago, a resounding generosity which covered many quiet deeds of harshness and oppression. He died in 1354, leaving his dominions to Matteo, Bernabò and Galeazzo II., to the entire exclusion of Luchino’s sons.

The new sovereigns had much ado at first to preserve their great heritage. Many cities, patient under the Archbishop’s yoke, rebelled against his successors, including Bologna. The Guelf enemies of Milan tried to enlist the new Emperor Charles of Bohemia against the Visconti; but that monarch preferred the large sum which they offered him for his sanction of their rule as Imperial Vicars, rather than the hostility of princes who could assemble six thousand men-at-arms and numberless foot soldiers beneath his window as a spectacle for his entertainment when he visited them in Milan. The Gonzaga of Mantua, once their allies and now their bitterest foes, leagued, however, with the Church and the hereditary foes of the Visconti and dealt them some heavy blows. The German company which the Mantuan princes employed invaded the Milanese territories under the formidable Count Lando, and penetrated nearly to the capital. But the citizens, in spite of their softness and lack of military practice, went forth with the courage of despair and defeated and drove away the Count, who was greatly surprised, since he nothing esteemed the Milanese. In other directions the Visconti suffered great losses. Genoa revolted in 1356, and to secure peace they were compelled to surrender Parma and Asti two years later.

The eldest brother, Matteo, had died in 1355. Weak, injudicious and a glutton, he was only a hindrance to the progress of his House. General report laid his death to his brothers’ charge. Bernabò and Galeazzo made a fresh division of the State, and Milan itself was split up between them. They worked together, 101however, with a single aim, in spite of mutual hatred and jealousy, to repair the losses of their State. Pavia had set up a free government, headed by the friar, Giacomo de’ Bussolari, who, an earlier Savonarola, sought to purge his city from tyranny and sin at once. Steadfastly beset by Galeazzo’s army, it had to yield at last to famine and sickness. Further afield Bernabò spent years in a desperate struggle to recover Bologna, under a tempest of papal anathemas, and though baffled himself, he prepared the way for his successor. He was constantly in fierce conflict with the Marquises of Este, whose rebel kinsmen he sheltered while they employed Luchino’s disinherited sons against him. Galeazzo on his side had to sustain the assaults of Savoy and Montferrat, which came near to ruining him.

But multitudinous and determined as their enemies were, the inimitable statecraft which was the Viscontean heritage, backed by their vast resources, enabled them to restore their power and to make Milan feared and respected everywhere abroad. These princes rarely took the field themselves, but entrusted their enterprises to the foreign companies by whom the Italian wars were now chiefly waged. These bands of hardy and unscrupulous adventurers, who were proof against the enervation which wealth and civilisation had induced in the Italians, were become powerful factors in the politics of the country. Most formidable of all was the company of Sir John Hawkwood. These English mercenaries, says Azario, were more excellent robbers than any of the other plunderers of the Lombards. By day they mostly slept and waked by night. And so diligent and skilful were they in capturing towns that their like had never been seen. After suffering much from Hawkwood’s zeal against him in the service of the Pope, Bernabò bribed him to his own side; but after a few years the great captain, faithful only to caprice, 102suddenly deserted the Visconte, with disastrous results to the latter. Later on, Bernabò tempted him again by the gift of one of his own daughters in marriage, with a large dowry. Nevertheless, the later part of Hawkwood’s career was spent in the pay of Milan’s inveterate foe, Florence.

Milan, unaffected by the quarrels of her sovereigns, was now the richest, most populous and luxurious city of Italy. The capitals of the great European kingdoms had no such splendid palaces, such comely-paved streets, such fair-fountained gardens and pleasaunces trodden by beautiful exotic beasts and birds, as this seat of citizen princes. The Visconti assumed the dignity and state of royalty. Galeazzo was himself married to a princess of the ancient House of Savoy, and both brothers pursued the sagacious policy of making alliances for their children with the sovereign Houses of Europe. Bernabò made statesmanlike use of his ten daughters and five sons by his wife Regina della Scala, and his score or so of illegitimate children, wedding them, according to the conditions of their birth, to royal princes and great Italian potentates, or to lesser nobles and successful soldiers, such as Hawkwood and Count Lando. Galeazzo married his one son and daughter with even greater splendour, and endowed them so lavishly that it was almost the ruin of his State. For his heir, Gian Galeazzo, he obtained the hand of Isabella de Valois, for a sum of five hundred thousand florins. The maiden Violante he gave to Lionel, Duke of Clarence, son of Edward III., with two hundred thousand florins and many fair lands and castles in Piedmont.

This last marriage was celebrated in 1368, with unexampled magnificence. The bridegroom arrived in Milan accompanied by the Sire le Despencer and a train of two thousand Englishmen. A splendid cavalcade went forth to meet him. First came Galeazzo himself, who was 103said to be more beautiful in person than any other man in Italy, wearing, as his custom was, a wreath of roses on his flowing golden hair, and attended by his greatest vassals. With him was his wife, Bianca of Savoy, and his daughter-in-law, the young French Isabella, and other noble ladies, followed by eighty damsels apparelled in scarlet, with sleeves of white cloth embroidered with trefoils, and girdles so richly worked that their worth was eighty florins each. Gian Galeazzo, a boy of fifteen, came next, leading a company of knights on steeds caparisoned as if for a joust, and after these followed the officers of State and of the household with their pages, all gorgeously arrayed. At the marriage feast the very meats were gilded, and with each of the sixteen courses splendid gifts were offered to the guests—highly-bred hounds with velvet and silken collars and leashes of silk; falcons with chains of gold and hoods of velvet, and silver buttons enamelled with the Snake; richly ornamented saddles and other horse furniture; suits of armour fashioned by the famous Milanese smiths; brocades of gold and richest silk, silver flagons worked with enamel, silver-gilt basins, mantles and doublets thickly sewn with pearls for the prince, and seventy-six splendid coursers and war-horses, each more generous, beautiful, and gorgeously caparisoned than the one before; and last of all twelve fat oxen. Galeazzo and the bridegroom sat at one table with the noblest of the guests, among whom was Messer Francesco Petrarca the poet, in the most honourable place. At another were placed Regina della Scala and a number of ladies. Such scenes as these are dimly pictured for us in primitive frescoes here and there, in which we see assemblages of ladies in jewelled robes and lofty peaked head-dresses, and gentlemen correspondingly fine stiffly seated at narrow boards, or pacing with slow and stately step through the dance within some spacious pillared hall.

104Though extravagantly lavish for State purposes, the Visconti did not keep open Court like their predecessors. No tables were set out in the streets for the common people on holidays, no oxen roasted whole or wine-vats broached for all who liked to drink. The chroniclers complain of the avarice of their Lords. The taxes were continually increased. Pressed by the huge cost of their wars and their alliances, the Visconti were in fact always in need of money, and so assured was their supremacy in Milan, that they no longer feared the discontent of the citizens. With the development of their despotism the social gulf between the Visconti and the rest of the community had grown wide. Both brothers were proud, suspicious and cruel. But the severity of the silent Bernabò, and his terrible fits of rage and strange capricious temper, made him the most feared. He was laudably resolved to maintain justice and order, so that a man might go unarmed through any part of his dominions, and to suppress the old faction hatreds, but his methods were intolerably harsh. No one was allowed to call himself Guelf or Ghibelline on pain of having his tongue cut out. To be found abroad in the city at night, for any reason whatever, was to lose a foot, and so forth. Moreover, on mere suspicion people were put to cruel death or torment. This arbitrary severity was, however, of little avail, and crime was far more rife in the city than before Bernabò’s time. The tyrant’s passion for dogs was as extravagant as his disregard for human suffering. He had five thousand hounds, which his subjects were compelled to keep and tend for him, and if one were found to be either too fat or too lean for the chase, or to have come to any harm, woe to its guardian. Every sort of game was sacred to the prince’s sport, and the peasants who slew wild boars or other forest creatures for food during a severe famine, 105were hanged or blinded. Two Franciscan brothers, who dared to expostulate with the prince for his harshness, were burnt as heretics, an act something ironical on the part of one who himself spent nearly all his life under the ban of the Church. There was a certain grim humour in some of Bernabò’s fierce deeds, as in his treatment of two dignified Benedictine abbots, who were sent to treat with him by the Pope. The prince met them on a bridge over the Lambro, where, with due reverence, they presented to him the pontifical Bulls. Bernabò read them, and looking up, eyed the legates grimly, and asked them whether they would prefer food or drink. Perceiving a sinister meaning in the question, the trembling clerics glanced at the deep river flowing beneath, and said that they would rather eat. Whereupon the papal missives, parchment, seals, silk cord and all, were crammed down their throats.

Galeazzo was not so capriciously cruel as his brother, but his rule was equally oppressive. To add to the afflictions of the people, the country was devastated by the foreign Companies, who robbed friends and foes alike; and years of famine and pestilence came, which their Lords took no more thoughtful measure to relieve than hanging some of the chief ministers. To both brothers clings the horrible reproach of a decree, condemning prisoners of State to the so-called Quaresima, a series of tortures lasting forty days. Yet Galeazzo was conspicuous for domestic virtues, and both princes were very devout, and founded many churches and convents, and gave largely in alms. One has to remember in judging these sovereigns that the Florentine chroniclers, who have always held the ear of the world, hated them as the enemies of their city. They depict them as barbarous and ignorant tyrants, sunk in gross vice. Yet Petrarca, the recognised 106sovereign of thought and letters in fourteenth century Italy, spent several years at Milan, in the service first of Archbishop Giovanni, and afterwards of Galeazzo, and speaks of the city and its Lords with great affection and respect. The high honour which the Visconti paid to the poet shows their regard for the things of the spirit. Their capture of Petrarca was felt to be as great a triumph as the conquest of a province. Boccaccio and other Tuscan writers inveigh fiercely against their countryman for his adherence to the Visconti, pretending that he who loved freedom had been deluded by the vulgar worship of riches and luxury, and had become a slave. But Petrarca, whose close acquaintance could judge better of his hosts, probably appreciated the large and far-reaching political ideas which were the heritage of the Visconti, and perhaps saw in Milan a hope for Italy, outside the conception of the Florentines, the possibility of a larger freedom in national union, which should restore the successors of the Romans to their lost glory.

The Visconti, moreover, took great pains to advance learning and culture in their dominions. They founded the University of Pavia, the once celebrated school of jurisprudence there having long decayed, and richly endowed its chairs, and it was Galeazzo who started the famous library at Pavia, to which all students were allowed access. Bernabò was something of a scholar himself, and had studied the Decretals in his youth; but the anxiety of constant wars and the cares of State hindered him from doing all that he would willingly have done for the intellectual welfare of the capital.

The bitter jealousy which prevailed between the two brothers divided them much in later years, though it could not disunite them in the face of their foes, and Galeazzo had left Milan and removed his Court to Pavia, though still keeping his share of the government 107of the capital. He died in 1378. His son, Gian Galeazzo, was delicate of constitution, of retiring habits, and much given to study. The gentleness with which he began to rule, remitting taxes and seeking to propitiate his subjects, excited the scorn of the grim Bernabò, who readily accepted the proposal of the young widower—Isabella de Valois having died—for the hand of his daughter Caterina, thinking thus to get an extra hold upon him. Little did the veteran prince suspect that this mild recluse, who was hardly ever seen out of his palace at Pavia, was the very quintessence of that subtlety, tenacity and ambition which had made the House of the Visconti the most dreaded in Italy. Gian Galeazzo’s genius for statecraft had been carefully trained by his father. While Bernabò regarded him as of little account, he was strengthening his position both at home and abroad by quiet diplomacy, and evolving mighty schemes in his mind, while he patiently waited the ripe moment for their accomplishment.

There is nothing more dramatic in all the sensational story of medi?val Italy than Gian Galeazzo Visconte’s sudden spring to power. Seven years had passed since his father’s death, and Bernabò’s tyranny had grown ever more oppressive, in sharp contrast to his fellow-ruler’s. One day in 1385 Gian Galeazzo set forth from Pavia for Milan, escorted by four hundred men-at-arms, having announced his intention of visiting a holy shrine near Varese and his desire of embracing his honoured uncle on his way. He had arranged not to enter the capital, but to skirt the walls till he reached the castle beside Porta Giovia, recently built by his father. Laughing at the young man’s caution and his pusillanimity in bringing so large an escort, the elder Visconte sent two of his sons on ahead, and swinging himself into the saddle, galloped 108off, with two or three servants only, to meet his nephew. The two Sovereigns had but exchanged greetings when, Gian Galeazzo signed to the captain of his escort, Jacopo dal Verme, who laid his hand upon Bernabò’s shoulder, and in a moment the tyrant found himself a prisoner. With his sons he was hurried into the Castle of Porta Giovia. Gian Galeazzo entered the city and was received with immense joy. Not vainly had he counted upon the terror and hatred which his uncle had excited. The people, rushing to the houses of the fallen tyrant and his sons, sacked them from end to end, fired and tore them down, and razed them to the ground. In a General Council of the citizens the sole and absolute dominion of Milan was unanimously conferred upon Gian Galeazzo and upon his male heirs.

Bernabò was removed soon after to the Castle of Trezzo, and died seven months later, of poison, it was said. His sons, except the two captured, had fled in all directions, and were doing their utmost to raise help against the usurper. But so perfectly had Gian Galeazzo conceived and accomplished his great stroke, and with the exercise of such consummate diplomacy and such victorious arms did he secure himself afterwards, that not one of Bernabò’s children, in spite of their princely alliances, were able, with all their constant efforts, to overthrow him or recover any part of their heritage.

The usurper’s one excuse for his treachery was that his uncle and cousins had been openly intriguing against him. Immediately after the capture of Bernabò he drew up a solemn indictment against him, charging him with a catalogue of appalling crimes, and with insidious designs against his, Gian Galeazzo’s, life, and sent it to all the Courts of Europe. This characteristic attempt to give legal justification to his action deceived nobody. Italy at large regarded the young ruler with 109an admiration and dread which events soon proved well-founded. The brain which had shown such sovereign dissimulation cherished ambitions before which whole cities and states were to fall. It was not long before his schemes began to be fulfilled. The story of Gian Galeazzo’s military enterprises is one of almost unbroken conquest. He was no soldier himself, but he knew how to choose his generals, and he got the best out of them by interfering with them little and rewarding them very generously. The chaotic state of Italy at the time gave him his chance. So extraordinary was his success, that he was regarded as something almost diabolical. It seemed to his terrified enemies that he fascinated those whom he marked for destruction, so that they fell with eyes open into his snares. Francesco da Carrara, Lord of Padua, was persuaded to aid him to overthrow the Scaligeri of Verona. That city having been conquered in 1387, Gian Galeazzo picked a quarrel with his ally, besieged and captured Padua (1389), and sent Francesco to die in the dungeons of Monza. Master now of Verona and Padua, the Visconte had touched the Adriatic shore. Meanwhile Mantua and Venice looked on stupidly and awaited their own destruction as if paralysed. General fear possessed Italy at the rapid progress of the conqueror, who, unseen himself, directed his instruments with such unfailing insight to his desired ends. The Visconte’s policy was to strike at the weak first and gradually prepare the way for greater enterprises. The Church was at this time in the throes of the Great Schism, and Gian Galeazzo, protesting conscientious difficulties in deciding to which Pope he owed spiritual obedience, played them against one another, while he seized the papal fiefs in the Romagna. His armies climbed the mountains and poured into Umbria and Tuscany. Aroused at last by the example and exhortations of Florence, Italy shook 110off her stupor, and a general effort was made to stem the advance of the Visconte. Yet still he crept on, remedying the checks to his arms by his stealthy diplomacy. The King of France, in answer to the appeal of Florence, sent an army to invade his States, but it was routed by Jacopo dal Verme, and Charles VI. was himself converted into an ally by the Visconte’s flatteries and promises. In 1399 he triumphed over Florence again by acquiring Pisa, without a blow, from Gerardo d’Appiano, while Perugia, Siena and Assisi submitted to his generals.

Already in 1395 Gian Galeazzo’s great increase of power and prestige had been marked by his elevation to a new dignity. His untiring negotiations, backed by the offer of an enormous sum, persuaded the Emperor Wenceslaus to constitute the Milanese State, including a number of conquered cities, into a Duchy, and to invest the Visconte and his male heirs with it in perpetuity. The ceremony of investiture took place in the Piazza of St. Ambrogio, where upon a great throne the imperial legate robed and crowned the new duke in the sight of all the people, in the midst of every pompous circumstance, while in the basilica afterwards the Bishop of Novara, destined to become Pope Alexander V., preached the sermon and lauded the subject of his oration for his illustrious blood, his conspicuous beauty of person and the virtuous tranquillity of his mind.

Gian Galeazzo was as great an administrator as statesman and conqueror. By wisdom, economy, careful distribution of taxation and supervision of finances, he relieved the people from the cruel and ill-considered burdens imposed by the bad management of his predecessors, while increasing his own resources enormously. He was the very genius of order. He saw that the law was properly and effectively carried out, justice done to all, and perfect rule maintained throughout the State. 111It was by his generous, just, and wise government of the cities which he conquered that he consolidated his vast dominions.

In these favourable conditions Milan flourished exceedingly, and could contribute without overwhelming distress her share of the duke’s annual revenue of twelve hundred thousand florins, and of the extra levies for special purposes, amounting sometimes to eight hundred thousand florins in one year—sums far exceeding those commanded by any other Italian prince.

Gian Galeazzo’s rule, though sometimes oppressive, was not carried on by the harsh methods of his predecessors. Violence and wanton cruelty were probably repugnant to his sensitive physical temperament and despicable to his unimpassioned mind. He was never bloody, except for a purpose, as in the awful sack of Verona after her revolt and recapture in 1390. But for a refined and ingenious cruelty which exercised itself in long worming plots ending far off in some unexpected catastrophe, Gian Galeazzo seems to have had an artistic predilection. It was he, men said, who by Iago-like suggestions drove Francesco Gonzaga of Mantua to slay his wife Agnese, one of Bernabò Visconte’s daughters, in a frenzy of jealousy, that he himself might be first and loudest afterwards in proclaiming the innocence of the lady and exciting general execration of the murderer. The beheading of young Obizzo d’Este at Ferrara has been also attributed to evil suspicions which the Milanese prince instilled into the Marquis Alberto for political ends. The Visconte’s influence is plainer still in the hideous treachery and ingratitude of Jacopo d’Appiano, who, with a kiss of peace, slew his protector and friend, the noble Pietro Gambacorti, and made himself Lord of Pisa for Gian Galeazzo’s benefit, as very shortly appeared.

The Duke’s piety was as marked as his less estimable 112characteristics. He did not doubt his own righteousness or hesitate to invoke the aid of Heaven for all his enterprises. He was assiduous in his devotion to the Saints and observance of the Church’s rites and ceremonies. The Cathedral of Milan, the vast Certosa of Pavia, and many other great buildings, were planned and founded by this prince. These works were not done solely for a spiritual reward, but also to proclaim his own glory to the world and to encourage art and industry. All Gian Galeazzo’s greatness of spirit showed in his buildings. His engineering schemes were as mighty and daring in conception as undaunted and patient in accomplishment. To subdue Padua and Mantua he undertook the gigantic task of diverting the Brenta and Mincio. But here he measured himself too audaciously against natural forces. One night the Mincio, ‘in piena,’ hurled its waters at the huge dam and swept away the work which had cost untold labour and gold.

With all his occupations of war and statesmanship, Gian Galeazzo found time to continue his father’s patronage of Letters. He had as a youth studied deeply himself in the University of Pavia. An early fresco at Pavia, now long lost, represented him as a child standing in a crowd of nobles and distinguished men in his father’s palace, and in answer to the question, who was the greatest man present, pointing to the poet Petrarca. This allegory recorded the honour which he paid all his life to intellect and learning. He called the greatest scholars to the Chairs of the University, including Emanuel Chrysoloras, who thus brought to Milan the newly reviving knowledge of Greek. He made these men his councillors and familiar associates. They read poetry to him and discussed the new discoveries of antiquity, so that his castle has been called a temple of wisdom. Architecture, sculpture, painting were equally fostered 113by him. There was no sort of human activity which he did not seek to stimulate for the advantage and glory of his State.

Though its operations meant destruction to lesser powers, Gian Galeazzo’s brain was essentially kingly and creative. This was the moment in Italy of the formation of great States. The old faction struggles of the era of freedom had come to an end with the establishment of tyrannies, and of these the lesser were now being swallowed up by the greater. In this process Milan under the Visconti was the leader. Its natural outcome seemed to be the foundation of a great settled kingdom in the peninsula, like France and England in the North. The patriotic spirits of the time dreamed of such a kingdom as the redemption of Italy from her woes of constant dissension and warfare. The idea took practical shape in the mind of the great Matteo’s descendant and heir, in whom character and circumstance united to carry the large political thought and ambition of the Visconti nearest to its supreme fulfilment. And it was to Gian Galeazzo that the dreamers looked for the realisation of their desire, as perhaps Petrarca had looked to the earlier generation. Fazio degli Uberti, the fourteenth century Florentine poet and exile, who lived long at the Viscontean Court, in one of his canzoni makes Rome cry—
‘O figliuol mio, da quanta crudel guerra
Tutti insieme verremo a dolcie pace
Se Italia soggiace
A un solo re....’[2]

2. 
‘Oh my son, from what cruel warfare
Should we come all together to sweet peace
Could Italy be subject
To one sole king....’

To such a single crown Gian Galeazzo undoubtedly aspired. And though he was defeated in the end, it was 114by no mortal means. All the efforts of the hostile league of Florence, Venice, the Pope, and the lesser Italian Princes, could not hinder his advance. His dominions at the beginning of the fifteenth century embraced nearly the whole of Lombardy and the Romagna. The Umbrian cities Perugia and Assisi were his. Lucca, Pisa and Siena obeyed him. The tide of his success crept on. He foresaw and discomfited every move of his opponents. In 1401 Bologna, long an obstacle in his path, was surrendered to him by the Bentivogli. His bravest and most obstinate foe, Florence, lay virtually at his mercy. On every side of her he was supreme. Cut off from all help she waited his deadly attack. The moment of his triumph was at hand.

In July 1402 the Duke instructed his armies to close round the city of the Arno. Retiring from Milan, where the plague had appeared, to his villa at Melegnano, he had the mantle, sceptre and diadem prepared for his coronation as King of Italy. He had nothing to fear now from mortal enemies. There was one power only which his arms and calculations could not defy. On the 10th of August he was seized with the deadly contagion, and a few days later he died, at the age of 49.

Who can tell the thoughts of the man as he lay on his death-bed, in his hands at last all that he had laboured for day and night without ceasing, and they powerless to close upon it. Who can measure the passion of that defeated brain? His death caused infinite joy in Florence, and in Italy generally. Yet there were many who, with an anonymous poet of the time, wept for the loss which had deprived
‘questo emisfero
de quel che col pensiero
Sanar volia l’italico payese.’

Their lament was justified. The direct result of the 115tyrant’s death was the release of all the elements of disorder and reaction in Italy, the revival of angry faction, the break-up of a great organised State among a host of greedy and warring pretenders, and the terrorism of military adventurers over the whole country, ending in the establishment of a dynasty in Milan destined to sell Italy to her final shame and ruin. What if Gian Galeazzo had lived a few years longer? Florence would probably have fallen before him, Florence whose incurable spirit of individualism had been the one barrier between him and his ambition. But was that single little torch of liberty, which itself was soon to waver and be spent, worth the sacrifice of a united and peaceful Italy, strong enough to resist all outside foes, forward enough to lead all Europe in the path of progress?

Yet if that noble fruition of art and civilisation which glorifies the fifteenth century in Florence was conditional on her independence, then Italy through all the tears of her after centuries of sorrow and humiliation might well answer Yes.

THE SNAKE OF THE VISCONTI