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.

CHAPTER II.
THE ORIGIN OF THE FLORENTINE COMMUNE.82

I.

WHEN the Longobards became masters of nearly the whole of Italy, and subjected it to their long and cruel sway, they are known to have appointed a duke to every one of the principal cities they occupied. Rome remained free from them, having a Pope; Ravenna also escaped because an Exarch was soon to hold rule there, and almost all the cities by the sea were likewise exempted, inasmuch as the Longobards were ignorant of navigation, and needed assistance for their maritime trade. It was for the same reason that republics such as Venice, Amalfi, Pisa, Naples, and Gaeta, were of earlier origin than the rest. The dukes enjoyed great authority and independence; indeed, some of the duchies, especially on the borders, became so extended as to resemble small kingdoms—e.g., the dukedoms of Friuli, Spoleto, and Benevento. This circumstance greatly contributed to the decomposition of the kingdom and to the fall of the Longobards, whose strength and daring were never conjoined with any real political capacity.

On the arrival of the Franks, counts took the place of dukes, but with less power and smaller territories. Charlemagne, with his genuine talent for statesmanship, refused to maintain lords who, in seeking their own independence, might endanger the existence of his empire. Nevertheless, as it was indispensable to keep his borders more strongly defended, he constituted marches, on the pattern of the greater Longobard duchies, and entrusted them to margraves, or marquises (Mark-grafen—frontier counts, marquises, or margraves). Thus too the marquisate of Tuscany was formed and the government centred in Lucca; for this city having had a duke of its own ever since the times of the Longobards, was already of considerable importance, while, as we have seen, Florence had fallen so low that the documents of the period merely refer to it as a suburb of Fiesole. Nearly all the margraves acquired great power, and aspired to still higher dignities. From their ranks in fact came men such as Hardouin and Berengarius, who, aspiring to form an Italian kingdom, became formidable opponents of the Empire, often wrought it much harm, and involved it in sanguinary wars.

Hence it is not surprising if, later on, the policy of the German emperors should have constantly aimed at the enfeeblement of the leading Italian counts and margraves, and, by granting exemptions and benefices to prelates or lesser feudatories, and making all benefices conceded to the latter hereditary estates, rendered these independent of all greater and more dangerous potentates. Therefore, particularly in Lombardy, this class rose to importance, and so, too, the political authority of the bishops, who in point of fact held the position of counts. But in Tuscany things took a different turn. Whether feudalism there, having smaller strength and power of expansion, seemed less formidable to the Empire; whether the country, being more distant, proved less easy to govern; or because a strong state in central Italy was felt to be needed to arrest the growing power of the Papacy; whether the latter may have favoured its formation, as a possible check to the Empire; or again, as seems probable, for all these reasons combined, it is certain that the dukes or marquises of Tuscany (either title was borne by them) increased in power and consequence, and afterwards, in their turn, became a danger to the Empire. But in Tuscany the power of bishops and counts suffered more reduction than in Lombardy from the growing strength of the margraves, whose sway was extending on all sides, so that they sometimes appear to be virtual sovereigns of central Italy. The same reasons served to delay the rise of cities, and specially hindered that of Florence.

Already, from the second part of the tenth century, a Marquis Ugo, surnamed the Great, of Salic descent, ruled over Tuscany, the duchy of Spoleto and the march of Camerino. He reigned in Lucca almost in the guise of an independent monarch, and enjoyed the favour of the Othos. His successors continued to govern with much the same authority as the dukes of Benevento; and Bonifazio III. extended his State even to Northern Italy, thus giving umbrage to Henry III., whom he often outrivalled in cunning. Bonifazio being voracious for power, and of tyrannical temper, stripped many prelates, counts, and monasteries of their possessions, either to seize them in his own grasp or give them to better trusted vassals. He also tightened his grasp on all cities which, having risen to some importance, coveted increased freedom. This was specially the case with Lucca and Pisa. The former had prospered through being long the chief seat of the duchy, while the latter owed its prosperity to the sea, on which, as Amari happily phrased it, Pisa was already a free city, while still a subject city on land. Florence, however, still existed in humble obscurity, trading in a small way, and girt about on all sides by feudal strongholds.

In 1037 Bonifazio had taken to wife Beatrice of Lorraine, who in 1046 gave birth to a daughter, Matilda, the celebrated countess or comitissa, as she is entitled by the chroniclers. After the death of Bonifazio, by assassination, in 1052, Matilda was soon associated with her mother in the government of Tuscany and of the whole duchy, and when left an orphan in 1076, became sole ruler of those extensive dominions. Beatrice had remarried, and as she was very religious, and her second husband, Goffredo of Lorraine, was brother to Pope Stephen IX., this served to increase their common zeal for the papal policy, afterwards so devotedly pursued by Matilda. When this high-minded, energetic woman became sole ruler, she held the reins of government in a firm grasp, and was often seen on battle-fields with a sword at her side. Her political position was one of great peril, for she was driven to take part in the fierce quarrel, recently begun, between the Church and the Empire. At first the great, high-tempered Hildebrand conducted the struggle as the inspiring genius of various Popes; later on, when raised to the pontifical Chair as Gregory VII., he fought in person against Henry IV. of Germany, and found Matilda his strongest and best ally. In this conflict, stirring and dividing all Europe, it was only natural that many opposing passions should be excited in Italy. All cities that, like Pisa and Lucca, considered themselves wronged by Duke Bonifazio, now declared for the Empire, and the Empire sided with them against Matilda. The same course was followed by all dissatisfied feudatories, especially by those whom Bonifazio had stripped of their possessions. More than once, it is true, Countess Matilda seized estates which had been arbitrarily alienated; but she seldom restored them to their original owners, preferring instead to bestow them on churches, convents, and trusty adherents of her own. This added fresh fuel to the flame. Hence an increasingly tangled web of opposing passions, of conflicting interests, from which at last some profit accrued to Florence. The Guelph spirit of the city and its commercial position, on the highway to Rome, had from the outset inclined it to the Church, and now, as a declared ally, was actively favoured by Beatrice and Matilda.

II.

It was long believed that Florence had had Consuls, and consequently an independent government, from the year 1102, since Consuls are mentioned in a treaty of that date, whereby the inhabitants of Pogna swore submission to the city. But it was difficult to reconcile this fact with the clearly proved dependence of Florence on Countess Matilda at the time. It was afterwards ascertained that the document in question bore a wrong date, and that the correct one was 1182, when the submission of Pogna really took place. Accordingly, the independence of the city was transferred to after 1115, the year of the countess's death. But it was still difficult to explain the wars previously carried on by the city on its own account, and other events of a like nature. The fact is that no fixed year can be assigned to the birth of the Florentine Commune, which took shape very slowly, and resulted from the conditions of Florence under the rule of the last dukes or marquises. We have already recorded the popular riots of 1063–68 against the bishop Mezzabarba, when accused of simony, and we have related how they ended with the ordeal of fire, braved by Pietro Igneo in 1068. On this head we have cited the letters of St. Pier Damiano addressed civibus florentinis. We also referred to a document83 in which the clerus et populus florentinus made appeal to the Pope, and, in narrating what had occurred, mentioned a municipale praesidium, a praeses of the city, and a superior potestas. This proved, before all, that the civic body of the period was already conscious of its personality, and that there was already an embryo local government within the city walls. Doubtless the supreme potestas was the Duke Goffredo, husband to Beatrice; the praeses, his representative in Florence. It was before him that, as we have seen, the bishop threatened to drag his adversaries, whose property was to be confiscated should they persist in disobedience. This preside commanded the praesidium, designated municipal even before the municipality had come into being, and at least the name shows that the majority of the praesidium must have consisted of citizens. But all this makes it equally plain that, while Florence was still an integral part of the margraviate, Roman forms, traditions, and ideas already prevailed there to the extent of assigning Roman names to institutions of feudal origin. We must pause to consider this fact, since it gave rise to a question, not only of form, but of genuine historical importance.

The employment of Roman terms need cause little surprise when we remember that the study of elementary Roman law, as well as of rhetoric,84 the ars dictandi then formed part of the Trivium, and was therefore widely taught in Italy. In the first half of the eleventh century a still more advanced study of law already flourished at the school of Ravenna, and as its influence increased, extended through Romagna into Tuscany. This system of law seemed to spring to life again spontaneously from the midst of Latin populations, with whom it had never entirely died out, and now in its new vigour brought modifications and changes into the different institutions and legislations with which it came in contact.85 In fact, in the sentences pronounced by Beatrice and Matilda, we find occasional quotations from the Digesto, or Code, that, according to the procedure of the time, was carried to the tribunals by those basing their rights on its clauses.86 The works of St. Pier Damiano afford satisfactory proof that the Florentines pursued the same study, and set great value on Roman law. The saint mentions a juridical dispute of the Florentines, regarding which, towards the middle of the eleventh century, they had asked the opinion of the sapientes of Ravenna, who, much to his own disgust, presumed to alter the prescriptions of canonical law on the authority of the Digesto. Among those wise men, he adds, the most impetuous and subtle chanced to be a Florentine.87 Another proof might be deduced from the remark previously made by Ficker,88 namely, that the courts held in Florence and its territory were seldom attended by the Romagnol assessors, or causidici, frequenting other Tuscan tribunals. This would seem to imply that in this respect Florentines had no need to recur to Romagna. Later—that is towards the end of the century—the school of Irnerius (Werner) began to flourish at Bologna, the which school aimed at an exact reproduction of Roman law and promoted its genuine revival. But at the time of which we speak the Ravenna school represented, on the contrary, a continuation of the ancient jurisprudence, partly decayed and partly changed by the diverse elements of civilisation in the midst of which it had survived, and in which it was now producing radical changes.89 One of these changes—leading to very remarkable consequences of a political as well as a legal kind—took place in the constitution and attributes of the margravial tribunal.

We know that Matilda, after the fashion of her predecessors, administered justice in the name of the Empire, presiding in state over the tribunals. Indeed, this was one of her chief functions. Some sentences given by her have survived, and serve to show us how her tribunal was composed. Certain high feudatories had seats flanking her throne; next came the judges, assessors, pleaders (causidici), and witnesses, and lastly, the notary. Prof. Lami has observed that the judges, and more particularly the assessors, were changed as the countess moved from city to city, which would prove that not a few of them were inhabitants of the towns wherein they administered justice.90 In fact, what names do we find among them in Florence? Those of the Gherardi, Caponsacchi, Uberti, Donati, Ughi, and a few others.91 These were already the first and most influential citizens, the boni homines, the sapientes, the men we afterwards find officiating as Consuls. Thus there were certain families who first formed part of the margravial tribunal, and were afterwards at the head of the Commune.

Political changes were facilitated and prepared by a juridical change, followed by the increased action of the revived Roman law. What was the nature of this change? The exact definition of the functions respectively assigned by the Germanic code to the president of the tribunal who gave sentence, or to the judges who led up to the same by administering the law, had been gradually lost sight of. Sometimes the countess pronounced sentence without the aid of judges; but more often they conducted the trial, applied the law, and formulated the verdict, to which the countess merely gave assent. Thus, as Ficker states, her office was reduced to that of a passive president.92 This is confirmed on seeing that tribunals sometimes sat in her absence, when the trials were entirely managed by the judges. A method of this kind once adopted, Matilda's grave and numerous affairs of State, together with the continual warfare in which she was involved, must have augmented the number of the cases settled by local judges. This must have been a matter of weighty importance at a time when the administration of justice was one of the principal attributes of political sovereignty. Hence these citizen tribunals are a precursory sign of civic independence before the Commune had asserted its real autonomy and individual position. The strange dearth of documents certifying that any tribunal in Florence was presided over by Matilda during the last fifteen years of her life, serves to confirm our remarks. A similar fact is also verified in the Tuscan cities remaining faithful to the Empire; for these too had tribunals in which justice was administered, not by feudal potentates, but by citizens invested by the emperor with judicial authority.93 These, too, served as a preliminary to communal independence, although hardly forming, as some thought, its actual beginning.

It is certain that in this and other ways, during the contest between Henry IV. and Matilda, many Tuscan cities, siding either with the Empire or the Church, and therefore highly favoured by the one or the other, were able to achieve a commencement of freedom. After Henry IV. had defeated Matilda near Mantua in 1081 he granted large privileges to Pisa and Lucca, in return for their proofs of goodwill to his cause. In a letter patent issued at Rome June 23, 1081, he not only guaranteed to Lucca the integrity of its walls, but also authorised it to forbid the construction of any castles in the city or territory within a circuit of six miles, and promised to exempt it from building an Imperial palace. He likewise declared that no Imperial envoy should be sent to give judgment in Lucca, but made a reservation in case of the personal presence there of the emperor, or his son, or his chancellor. In conclusion, he annulled the "evil customs" (perverse consuetudini) imposed by Bonifazio III.94 to the hurt of Lucca, and granted it full permission to trade in the markets of San Donnino and Capannori, from which he expressly excluded the Florentines. This final clause not only proves the hostility of the Empire to Florence, but the importance the latter's trade must have assumed by that time. In the same year Pisa received a patent guaranteeing the maintenance of its ancient rights, and Henry declared that no Imperial envoy belonging to another territory should be sent to plead suits within the walls, or within the boundaries of its contado. And, what was still more to the point, he also declared that no marquis should be sent into Tuscany without the consent of twelve buoni uomini chosen by the popular assembly, summoned in Pisa by sound of bell.95 Here, if no Consuls yet appear on the scene, we already find their precursors in these worthies, or sapientes, elected of the people, and we have already a popular assembly. Even though the Commune be still unborn, its birth is now, as it were, in sight. Further (provided nothing was interpolated in the document), it is most remarkable to find the appointment of an Imperial margrave subject to the sanction of the people. There is also a hinted desire—unattainable during Matilda's life—to assume the government of the margraviate in person; after her death an attempt to this effect was actually made, but, as we shall see, with very brief and partial success.

III.

Nevertheless the condition of Florence was considerably different from that of Pisa or Lucca. These two cities, as we have seen, had long enjoyed greater prosperity. They had often fought against each other; Pisa, haughty and daring by sea, had begun, even in the middle of the tenth century, a long and arduous war against the Mussulmans96 of Sicily, Spain, and Africa. Florence, on the other hand, in siding with Matilda, became necessarily the foe of all the great feudal nobles of the contado, surrounding the city on all sides, and who, disgusted by their treatment at the hands of the marquises of Tuscany, since the time of Bonifazio III., now, for the most part, adhered to the Empire. Their antagonism towards the Florentines was not only heightened by the fact of these nobles being of Germanic origin, even as feudal institutions were Germanic, whereas the population of Florence, consisting chiefly of artisans, was of Roman origin and full of Roman traditions; but it was likewise increased by the geographical position of the city. Had Florence been situated in a plain like Pisa and Lucca, or like Sienna and Arezzo on a height, the feudal nobility could have promoted their interests better by settling within its walls. But it lay in a valley in the midst of a girdle of hills bristling with feudal turrets, whence the nobles threatened it on all sides, raiding its lands and closing all outlets for its commerce.

These geographical conditions had no slight effect on the future destiny of Florence; and, in fact, largely contributed to form the special character of its history. As a primary result, conflict between the feudal nobles and the city was more inevitable and more sanguinary than elsewhere, while the city being, from the first, of far more democratic temper than the rest, was therefore longer prevented from asserting its independence, since this result could only be achieved when Florence had gained sufficient strength to cope with the numerous enemies girding it about. Until that moment arrived its interests were best forwarded by remaining friendly and submissive to Countess Matilda, the only power able to hold the barons in check, and the loss of whose aid would have left Florence a prey to its foes. This explains not only the city's delay in asserting its independence, but also the total lack of documents concerning the origin of a commune that had already risen to considerable strength, and started wars on its own account before its existence was officially recognised. These wars were still carried on in the name of the Countess, who occasionally visited the camp in person; the city was unmentioned in public documents, because it had as yet no personal existence. Nevertheless, we are forced to recognise the first signs of its communal life in the campaigns undertaken by Florence in defence of its trade against the nobles of the contado; the which campaigns were continued on an increasing and more vigorous scale until they ended in the total annihilation of the feudal lords. This was both the starting point and the aim of all Florentine history.

From the very beginning, it is true, we find that even Florence possessed some families that may be called noble. Such were the Donati, Caponsacchi, Uberti, Lamberti, and others whose names were included on the lists of the judges and soon to be found on those of the Consuls. These were the ruling, governing families at the head of the city. But they were neither counts, marquises, nor dukes; they were not as the Counts Cadolingi, Guidi, and Alberti, who dwelt in the outlying territory or contado; nor did they belong to those Cattani Lombardi so-called at the time, in remembrance of their Germanic descent. Rather than veritable nobles, they were "worthies" (boni homines), "great ones" (grandi),97 owning no feudal titles; natives of the city risen to high fortune, or scions of petty feudal lines, who, unable to hold their own against greater neighbours of the country side, had sought safety within the town. They quickly amalgamated with the people, sharing and taking the lead in all the latter's expeditions against the strongholds outside the city. Nor, as will be shown, was it a rare case, later on, to find some of these nobles engaged in trade, or heads of trade guilds, as soon as the latter became more firmly established. And it is by no means an insignificant fact that during disturbances at Pisa, Sienna, and elsewhere, we often see the names of real citizen-nobles, counts, viscounts, and so on, never to be met with in Florence. In documents concerning the Florentines the word nobiles seldom occurs, whereas it is often used in speaking of the Pisans, Siennese, &c. The term milites, it is true, frequently occurs in Florentine records; but although the milites could not be popolani, since the lower classes were not then admitted to knighthood, neither could they be feudal nobles in Florence: they were the leading citizens who exercised no trade, the grandi, in fact, to whom we have previously alluded. They were members of Matilda's courts, were employed by her in various ways; they commanded the municipale praesidium, probably filled the office of praeses, and they were leaders of the army. Richer, more cultivated and better fitted than other citizens for politics and warfare by their freedom from daily toil, they were the boni viri, the sapientes, the milites found more or less in all cities, but of a separate stamp in Florence.

Notwithstanding our knowledge of this preside and presidio and of these Florentine tribunals, very little is known as to the government and administration of the social body already beginning to prosper and to have varied interests of its own. Matilda's sway in Florence must have been of a shadowy kind, when the city was able to start wars on its own account and to its own profit, albeit still undertaken in her name. As its commercial prosperity increased and Matilda became more absorbed in her struggle with the Empire, the city must have been left more to itself. Consequently this is the time when the associations serving to classify and organise the citizens were formed, which we presently find flourishing and strongly established. Thus, being almost without a central government, a local one could assert its existence, and the strength of the Commune be developed long before its independence was proclaimed. The same fact explains why the Commune, its individuality once declared, should have made such rapid progress and leapt to the headship of Tuscany. At any rate, by the second half of the twelfth century we find on the one side the grandi, or nobles—if we prefer to give them that name—formed in Societies of Towers (Società delle torri), with statutes soon to be made known to us; while, on the other we find trade guilds or associations not only in existence, but sometimes with sufficient political importance to entitle them to the honour of representing the Republic. Can we possibly suppose that such results could be achieved without a long, preliminary course of preparation? Did not the scholae, progenitors of the guilds, survive during the Lower Empire and throughout the Middle Ages? do we not find them dividing all society, including both the soldiery and foreigners in Rome and in Ravenna? How could they be destroyed by barbarians ignorant of crafts which were nevertheless indispensable to their own needs?

Florentine commerce and industry undoubtedly increased during the rule of Countess Matilda. This has been proved by the patent of 1081, and the first wars undertaken by the Florentines in the interest of their trade afford sure confirmation of the fact. Were we to exclude trade associations from the conditions of the period, we should have to admit the existence, at that day, of the modern workman, isolated and independent: a decided impossibility in the Middle Ages. Those were times in which every trade was exercised by distinct groups of families, and handed down by them as a tradition from father to son. Frequently, even offices of the State were the monopoly of certain families. It was from a society split into groups and castes that the Commune eventually developed the modern State, but in old times the very idea of the latter was unconceived. It is absurd to suppose—though a few writers accept the notion—that the guilds only began when they had regular statutes. These statutes only formulated what had already existed for some time, and undoubtedly in Florence everything conduces to the belief that the associations of the trades and of the towers, though still embryonic, must have preceded the formation of the Commune evolved in their midst.

IV.

For on all sides, if in diverse modes, we perceive that a long period of incubation was needed to form the Commune, which naturally owed its birth to pre-existing elements. The celebrated agreement or concordia made at Pisa by Bishop Daiberto, about 1090, or even, perhaps, a year or so earlier,98 shows that the nobles were organised and waging fierce war against one another from their towers. The bishop induced them to partly demolish these towers, and solemnly vow never to carry them above the height of thirty-six braccia (about one hundred feet), as previously decreed by the patent of Henry IV. in 1081.99 And the agreement proceeded to set forth that any man believing his houses to have been unjustly damaged was to bear his complaint ad commune Colloquium Civitatis; nor could the dwelling of the offender be demolished without the general consent of the citizens.100

The whole tenor of this document not only proves that the Pisan nobles were already an organised body, but that they also boasted a civic importance never attained by the nobles of Florence.101 Evidently Pisa had no Consuls as yet, or they would have been certainly mentioned in the document. But all the elements destined to make it a far more aristocratic commune than that of Florence were already existent.102 We see that there was a commune consilium of sapientes or boni homines, which was a species of senate, and a commune colloquium, a general assembly of all the citizens, afterwards developing into a parliament or arrengo. Five sapientes, whose names are given, sat in council with the bishop.103 These were the immediate precursors or, as Pawinski rightly calls them, the vorbilder of the Consuls, who are actually mentioned shortly after this time, in 1094, in another agreement (concordia), also drawn up by Daiberto. He makes an explicit appeal to their authority (huius civitatis consulibus) in decreeing that all smiths engaged on work required for the Duomo should be left unmolested.104 Thus the rise of the Pisan Commune was preceded by a conflict waged by belligerent nobles from their respective towers, and the Consuls of the town were first named as the protectors of the smiths.

The existence of guilds in Venice as far back as the ninth century is certified by the Altino Chronicle, proving that, even then, there were some leading industries exercised by certain families only, and that humbler trades, or ministeria, were already constituted, as it were, in associations, the members of which pursued their avocation according to traditional and definite rules. These craft-guilds or ministeria implied certain accompanying obligations, since all members of them were bound to yield some gratuitous service to the State. On the other hand, the higher trades, such as mosaic work, architecture, and so on, requiring more culture and talent, were exercised by the leading families, and members of these guilds remained eligible for the political offices of the State.105 There is a document of the eleventh century showing that the guild of smiths was constituted under the rule of a gastaldo (or steward), against whom one of the members appealed for justice to the doge, according to a custom as yet unwritten.106 All this compels us to believe that the existence of art and trade guilds, and in general of all the associations into which the citizens of the communes were afterwards divided, dates from a very remote period, and that in Florence, as elsewhere, all similar associations were constituted before the Commune had proclaimed its independence. Otherwise it would be impossible to explain the existence of a city that, almost without any visible government, was already prosperous in commerce and able to make war on its own account. For otherwise all the ensuing facts, although beyond the reach of doubt, would remain unexplained.

V.

Therefore, even in the days of Countess Matilda, we find the mass of the citizens divided and arranged in groups. We see on the one side the ancient scholae transformed into associations of arts and trades, containing the germ of future greater and lesser guilds; on the other, family associations and clans of the grandi or leading citizens, embryos of future societies of the towers. All these associations already formed the practical government of the city, in which the principal offices were filled by grandi of Matilda's choice. It is quite probable that the post of preside was reserved, in accordance with mediæval usage, to a single family or clan, perhaps to that of the Uberti, who were, as we shall see, among the most powerful in the city, and boasting a Germanic descent. Nevertheless, there was then no hostility, no separation between the great folk or grandi and the people, all being united by common bonds and interests. In fact, as we have said, there will be soon documentary evidence that some of the grandi engaged in commerce were chiefs of guilds, and already beginning to fight, side by side with the people, against the outlying nobility. It is true that they owned lands and herds, but these were then the main source of that Florentine trade and commerce in defence of which the first wars were undertaken. The castles surrounding the city barred all outlets for commerce; armed men were always swooping down from them to attack and maltreat all pack trains issuing from the city to convey its products and merchandise to neighbouring towns. With continual wars on her hands, the Countess Matilda could seldom afford any help, and consequently the Florentines, although fighting in her name, were practically left to their own resources. It was this alliance of all classes of citizens, united by identity of interests and singleness of purpose against a common foe, that then constituted the strength of that Florentine people whose loyalty, purity, and valour were so fervently praised by Dante and the chroniclers. This was the moment when virtue laid the foundations of the Commune's future freedom and wealth.

Villani is given to exaggerate, but there is a basis of truth in his words when he states in the year 1107 (iv. 25) that "the city being much risen and increased in population, men, and power, the Florentines determined to extend their outlying contado, and widen their authority, and that war should be waged against any castle refusing obedience." This year, in fact, they began military operations by attacking the fortress of Monte Orlando, near Lastra a Signa, also described by the chroniclers as the castle of Gangalandi or Gualandi, a fief of the Counts Cadolingi,107 then a very powerful family, and soon becoming bitterly hostile to Florence. During the same year they captured and demolished the stronghold of Prato, owned by the Counts Alberti, also very formidable enemies. But as on this occasion the Countess was present in the camp, their success is more easily explained.108

In 1110 we hear of another war. "Florentini iuxsta Pesa comites vicerunt," we read in the "Annales," i. which start with this event and date it the 26th of May. The comites here mentioned cannot be the Counts Guidi, then on friendly terms with Matilda and Florence, although, when fighting against both at a much later date, they were specially designated as "The Counts." In 1110 Florence attacked and conquered the Cadolingi, also known as the Cattani Lombardi, whose lands extended from Pistoia, by the Val di Nievole, towards Lucca, and by the Lower Val d'Arno to the vicinity of Florence. If the city could rout these nobles, it must have acquired great strength, even admitting the probability that on this occasion also it had the aid of Matilda's troops.

In 1113 there were two other military campaigns which, owing to the very different accounts narrated by the chroniclers, have given rise to an infinity of learned disputes. First of all came the assault and destruction of Monte Cascioli, assigned by some to the year 1113, by others to 1114, and postponed by a few to 1119, when it was supposed to have been defended by an Imperial German vicar named Rempoctus or Rabodo, who perished in the fight. Other chroniclers assign the overthrow of the castle to three different years, and Villani puts a climax to the confusion by jumbling together the various assaults described, assigning them all to 1113, and saying that the castle had revolted against Robert the German, vicar of the Empire, holding residence at San Miniato al Tedesco (iv. 29). But in 1113—that is, before the Countess's death—there was no Imperial vicar in Tuscany, and consequently none could be installed at San Miniato, to which the appellation "al Tedesco" was not yet applied. But the confusion can be cleared, the chroniclers made to agree, and the different narratives easily explained, if it is admitted that only the first attack upon Monte Cascioli took place in 1113, when the castle was held by the Cadolingi and could be vigorously defended.109 As the walls on that occasion were only partially destroyed, it was necessary to renew the assault in 1114, when they were totally demolished. They were afterwards rebuilt by the Cadolingi, and therefore, in 1119, when Florence had achieved independence, two more attempts were made to capture the stronghold; the Imperial envoy was killed while assisting in its defence, and the building was finally demolished and burnt to the ground. But without anticipating events we may conclude that even before Matilda's death the Florentines had succeeded, by their expeditions against Monte Orlando, Prato, Val di Pesa, and Monte Cascioli, in opening the highways of Signa, Prato, and Val d'Elsa to their trade.

Another event, likewise occurring in the years 1113–15, although dated by the chroniclers in 1117, namely, the Pisan expedition to the Balearic Isles, also led to a somewhat complicated dispute. As already related, the Pisans began to make war on the Mussulmans from the middle of the tenth century, and during the latter half of the next century the strife was pursued more hotly than ever. In 1087 Pisa and Genoa combined, displayed a fleet of forty sail in battle array before Mehdia, and in 1113 both cities joined in the more important expedition to the Balearic Isles. They were also accompanied by many counts and marquises from Lombardy and Central Italy, likewise including a few from the Florentine territory. Then, combining with the Counts of Barcelona and Montpellier, the Viscount of Narbonne, and others, they attacked the Balearic Isles, and, in spite of a very obstinate resistance, seized the castle of Majorca, and captured young Burabe, the last scion of the ruling dynasty there. Villani, in alluding to this war of 1113–15, assigns it, like the other chroniclers, to the year 1117, adding that the Pisans fearing, when about to set sail, that the Lucchese might, as once before, take advantage of their absence to attack their city, entrusted the Florentines with its defence. The latter immediately encamped two miles from the walls and forbade their men to enter Pisa, under penalty of death; for, seeing that scarcely any males were left in the city, they feared some attempts might be made on the honour of its women, to the grave discredit of Florentine loyalty. And this decree was rigorously enforced. One soldier who dared to violate the rules of discipline was condemned to death, notwithstanding the prayers of the Pisans, who, as the only chance of saving the man's life, protested that they could not permit a capital sentence to be executed on their territory. Whereupon the Florentines, showing even in this matter their scrupulous regard for others' rights, purchased a scrap of land, and there put the culprit to death.

Meanwhile, the Pisans returning from Majorca, laden with spoil, offered in token of gratitude to their faithful friends the choice of accepting either two bronze doors or two porphyry columns. The Florentines preferred the latter. The columns were consigned to them wrapped in scarlet cloth, in token of their value, and now stand in the chief portal of San Giovanni. However, when the cloth was stripped off, it was seen that some envious person had injured the columns with fire. Evidently part of this account is legendary, and we also discern that something must have been added to it afterwards, when Pisa and Florence were separated by long and inextinguishable animosity.110

But the wrong date repeated in Villani and many other chroniclers, regarding a war that lasted several years, and was apparently only recommenced in 1117, does not justify us in denying a fact so constantly affirmed by many writers.111 The Balearic expedition certainly took place, and there is equal certainty that it was led by the Pisans, with the help of various friends and allies. Their fear lest the city should be attacked by the Lucchese in their absence was justified by the fact that this had really happened in former times. The Pisans were now foes of Lucca and friends of Florence, whose loyalty during that early period was very generally recognised. Why should it be incredible that these friendly Pisans should have entrusted the city to their care, or that they should have proved worthy of the confidence reposed in them? Paolino Pieri not only repeats the story as told by all the other chroniclers, but also adds that the bit of ground upon which the guilty soldier was executed had been purchased with the help of Bello the Syndic, and that even in his own day he saw that it was still left uncultivated in memory of the deed: "it was on the fourth day of July, three hundred and two years more than one thousand, when I saw that ground untouched." At any rate, this is a proof that the tradition of the fact still survived in the fourteenth century, and that every one had the fullest belief in it.

VI.

The death of Countess Matilda, in 1115, was followed by a period of so much disorder as to mark the beginning of a new era for all Central Italy, and more especially for Florence. The countess, as we know, left a will bequeathing all her possessions to the Church; but this donation could only affect her allodial estates, since all those held in fief naturally reverted to the Empire. It was not always easy to precisely distinguish these from those; often, indeed, impossible: hence an endless succession of disputes. And such disputes became increasingly complicated by the pretensions of the Pope and the emperor, each of whom asserted his right to the whole inheritance, the one as Matilda's universal legatee, and the other as the supreme head of the margraviate. Then, too, as we have seen, many considered themselves to have been unjustly deprived of their estates, in favour of others with no rightful claim. All this led to a real politico-social crisis that brought the disorder to a climax. Thereupon the emperor, Henry IV., sent a representative, bearing the title of Marchio, Iudex, Praeses, to assume the government of Tuscany in his name. Of course, no one could legally contest his right to do this; but the Papal opposition, the attitude of the cities now asserting their independence, and the general disorder split the margraviate into fragments. Accordingly the representatives of the Empire could only place themselves at the head of the feudal nobility of the various contadi and, by gathering them together, form a Germanic party opposed to the cities. In the documents of the period the members of this party are continually designated by the name of Teutons (Teutonici).112

Florence, surrounded by the castled nobility occupying her hills, could only decide on one of two courses. Either to yield to those who had always been her mortal enemies, and were now emboldened by Henry's favour, or to combat them openly, and thus declare enmity to the Empire, the which, in the present state of affairs, would amount to a proclamation of independence; and the latter was the course adopted. Florence was now conscious of her own strength, and recognised that safety could only be gained by force. The change was accomplished in a very simple and almost imperceptible way. The same worthies who had administered justice, governed the people, and commanded the garrison in Matilda's name, now that she was dead, and no one in her place, continued to rule in the name of the people, and asked its advice in all grave emergencies. Thus these grandi became Consuls of the Commune that may be said to have leapt into existence unperceived. This is why no chroniclers mention its birth, no documents record it, and a plain and self-evident fact is made to appear extremely complicated and obscure. In endeavouring to discover unknown events and lost documents which had never existed, the solution of a very easy problem was hedged round with difficulties, while evident and well-established particulars best fitted to explain it were entirely lost sight of.

Nevertheless, we are not to believe that the event was accomplished without any shock, for the change was of a very remarkable kind. It is true that the actual government remained almost intact; but its basis was altered, since it was now carried on in the name of the people, instead of that of the Countess. This, in itself, signified little, inasmuch as for some time past the city had been practically, if not legally, its own master, and the people beginning to feel and make felt its personality. But the social and political results of the change were neither few nor inconsiderable. Naturally, during Matilda's reign, the governing authorities were men of her choice; and although all official and judicial posts changed hands from time to time, they became increasingly monopolised by a small cluster of families, chief among whom, as we have already said, were most probably the Uberti and their clan. Now, however, that the authorities were to be elected by the people, there was a broader, although still somewhat limited, range of choice. Accordingly, there was more change of office, and men were removed in turn from one to another. This custom already prevailed in other communes, and had been adopted even in Florence both by popular associations and those of the grandi. Hence it necessarily prevailed in the formation of the new government.

Nor can we believe that those always to the front in former times could have now withdrawn without resistance, or without attempting to maintain their position by favour of the Empire and the Teutonici; nor is it credible that those now entitled to a larger share in the government should have refrained from relying, in their turn, on the strength of the popular favour, backed by the most vital interests of the city. Friction between the leading families seems inevitable to us in this state of things, and Florence must have witnessed some such conflict as at Pisa in Daiberto's day, and in almost all other Italian communes. We learn from Villani (v. 30), from the "Annales," and many other works, that there was a great fire in Florence in 1115, a similar one in 1117, and that "what was left unburned in the first fire was consumed in the second." It was certainly an exaggeration to say that the whole city was destroyed, but the fact of the fire is generally affirmed.113 We also know that in those times, before gunpowder was invented, fire and arson were the most efficacious weapons in popular riots. Villani says, farther, that "fighting went on among the citizens ... sword in hand, in many parts of Florence." It is true, that, in his opinion, the fight was for the faith, seeing that the city being given over to heresy, licence, and the sect of the Epicureans, God therefore chastised it with pestilence and civil war. But, although we find no certain traces in history of any widely diffused heresy in Florence at the time, it is undoubted that from 1068 the earliest gleams of Florentine freedom were mixed and confused, as we have seen, with a religious movement, and it is also certain that the "Annales," i., of the year 1120 record the fact of one named Petrus Mingardole being condemned for heresy to the ordeal by fire,114 and also add that, between 1138 and 1173, the city was thrice smitten by an interdict, all of which goes to prove a continued religious agitation. Besides, Florence, and particularly her people, remained constantly faithful to the Church party, while the Uberti and their adherents, who sided with the Empire, were opposed to it, and consequently, in those days, may have easily incurred the charge of heresy. Even in Villani's time the general name of Paterini was bestowed not only upon all heretics, but on Ghibellines as well.115 Besides, as he had placed the origin of Florence before Charlemagne's day, and then again immediately after the imaginary destruction of Fiesole in 1010, he naturally refused to recognise that origin for the third time at the moment of the Commune's real birth. Accordingly, slurring over the political movement, that was undoubtedly the main factor in the change, he tried to exaggerate the religious movement that played a very minor part in it.

At any rate, since it appears certain that the Uberti asked the support of the Empire, they must have been now necessarily driven to prove themselves foes of the Church. Therefore, it cannot have been unusual for them to be styled heretics or Paterini, especially by so pronounced a Guelph as Villani. We know that the Uberti were already powerful in Matilda's time, from the frequent appearance of their name in contemporary documents. That they also enjoyed a lion's share of the government, and that the revolt was chiefly directed against them, is explicitly proved by the words of a chronicler—so far little read, we might almost say unknown—whose work being derived from different sources than that of Villani, shows some events in a new light. The pseudo Brunetto Latini, in fact, agrees with the other chroniclers in ascribing the first fire to the year 1115, saying that it began at the Santi Apostoli, and spread as far as the bishop's palace, "whereby the greater part of the city was burnt, and many folk perished in the flames." He says nothing concerning heresy, but touching the second fire of 1117, he adds: "In this year a fire broke out in Florence in the houses of the Uberti, who ruled the city, whereof little was saved from the burning, and many folk perished by fire and sword."116 It is evident that there was a real outbreak, almost a revolution waged with fire and sword, against the Uberti, rulers of the city.

Can we be surprised at the hatred roused by the Uberti, or at the civil war of which they were the cause? As we know, they were traditionally supposed to have come with the Othos from Germany; and we have seen how the legend of the Libro fiesolano, while refusing credence to this, spoke of them as descended from "the most noble race of Catiline," the enemy of Florence. Even on historical evidence, were they not the forefathers of those Uberti, who afterwards, in 1177, proved the first to attack the Consular government and begin the civil warfare by which the city was so long torn asunder? Were they not the forefathers of the Schiatta Uberti, ringleaders of the band that stabbed Buondelmonti to death, by the statue of Mars on the Ponte Vecchio, in 1215? Were they not the ancestors of the celebrated Farinata, who routed the Guelphs at Montaperti, and attended that Council of Empoli where such fierce measures were proposed against Florence, the perpetual nest of the Guelphs—the same Farinata described by Dante among the heretics in the bog of hell?117

VII.

Meanwhile, which party conquered in the struggle following Matilda's death? Facts prove it clearly enough. In the year 1119 the Florentines made that final assault on the castle of Monte Cascioli, to which reference has been already made. This is the moment when the before-mentioned Rempoctus,118 or Rabodo, really comes upon the scene, although Villani (iv. 29) and other chroniclers make him appear in 1113, under the name of Robert the German, Imperial vicar, and suppose him to have fallen in fight that year while defending the castle. We have shown that there could be no Imperial vicar in Tuscany at that date, seeing that none was sent until after Matilda's decease. In fact, no documents mention any vicar before then, and only on September 11, 1116, we find one recorded as "Rabodo ex largitione Imperatoris Marchio Tuscia,"119 and then in 1119, "Rabodo Dei gratia si quid est,"120 the identical formula that had been employed in Matilda's patents. In 1120 Rabodo's name disappears, and is replaced by that of the Margrave Corrado. It may therefore be taken for granted that Rabodo really perished in 1119 during the defence of Monte Cascioli against the Florentines, who now succeeded in finally demolishing the stronghold and burning it to the ground.121 Thus their first achievement, after Matilda's decease, was the destruction of a Cadolingi castle, together with the defeat and death in battle of the first Imperial vicar then established in Tuscany. This is more than enough to show the nature of their attitude with regard to the Empire and the Teutonic party.

Shortly after, an event of even greater significance occurred in the capture and sack of Fiesole during 1125. Sanzanome, whose so-called modern history of Florence starts with this war, describes it at much length, in flights of wordy rhetoric. The gist of it is that the chief cause of the conflict was a commercial dispute. The people of Fiesole would seem to have maltreated and plundered a Florentine trader who was quietly passing through the city with his goods. This incident, added to the remembrance of past rancours and other recent depredations, seems to have stirred the Florentines to war. Instantly, "factum est Consilium per tunc dominantes Consules de processu." One of the leading citizens harangued the people, beginning his speech with these words: "Si de nobili Romanorum prosapia originem duximus ... decet nos patrum adherere vestigiis." Thereupon, "illico a Consulibus exivit edictum." A man of Fiesole, on the other hand, began his address by alluding to the legendary origin of his city: "Viri, frates, qui ab Ytalo sumpsistis originem, a quo tota Ytalia dicitur esse derivata." Although so much learned rhetoric in a writer of the early part of the thirteenth century is another proof of the strong influence of Roman tradition on ancient Florentines, both before and after the rise of their Commune, it cannot conceal the real cause of the war, as proved even by the evidence of Villani, whose chronicle begins to acquire greater historic value at this point. The latter relates that Fiesole had become a veritable nest of Cattani and brigands, who infested the Florentine highways and territories.122 As usual, the feudal barons were swooping down from their strongholds to hinder the trade and traffic of the Commune.

At this moment also there were special causes tending to provoke a war of an unusually sanguinary kind. The counties, or contadi, of the two cities, as sometimes occurred elsewhere, had been carved out of the territories of bishoprics, based, in their turn, on ancient Roman partitions of the soil. Accordingly, these counties being not only adjacent, but wedged in and almost tangled one with the other, and their respective bishops having never wielded, as in Lombardy, the authority or power of counts they had ended by forming a single, combined jurisdiction. In fact, many documents refer to the county or jurisdiction of Fiesole and Florence, as though it were one and the same thing. Hence it was only natural that on becoming an independent Commune, after Matilda's death, Florence should seek to dominate over both counties, and equally natural that Fiesole should be violently opposed to the idea, and, notwithstanding the inferior size of the town, should have trusted to the superior strength of its fortified position, and, making alliance with the nobles of the contado, should have harboured them in the citadel, and joined them in continual attacks on Florentine traders or in raiding Florentine lands. This was the beginning of the war. Its details are unknown to us, those supplied by Sanzanome being too extravagant for belief,123 and other chroniclers furnishing none at all. Seeing the strength of Fiesole's position, the campaign could have been neither short nor easy, and undoubtedly ended in cruel slaughter and the almost total destruction of the town. The chroniclers are not the only authorities for this fact. Shortly afterwards, the Abbot Atto of Vallombrosa implored a pardon from Pope Honorius II., pro Florentinorum excessibus, urging in their favour that there were many aged persons, women, and children, in Florence, who had assuredly taken no part in the destruccio fesulana, and also that many participants in the war now confessed the error of their ways, and sincerely repented all the excesses that "non meditata nequitia commisere."124 The event was long remembered in Florence, is frequently recorded in documents,125 and, together with the rout of the Imperial vicar at Monte Cascioli, undoubtedly contributed to establish the independence of the Commune on a firmer basis.

VIII.

It is certain that Florence now had a separate government under Consuls of her own, although there is no documentary proof to this effect earlier than 1138. Sanzanome, however, makes explicit allusion to it at the time of the Fiesole campaign, when, as we have seen, war was declared by the Consuls. But what was the real nature and origin of this new magistracy? Formerly it was opined by many writers that the Consuls were an institution derived in general from the judges of older days. In Lombardy they would have been merely another form of the Frankish scabini, and accordingly in Florence it was natural to suppose them to be an altered survival of those judges of the margravial tribunal to whom, for some time before her death, Matilda had accorded the right to give sentence. But this view can be no longer maintained, since it does not comprise the whole truth of the matter. For even when the Consuls are seen in the exercise of their functions, what are they, what do they do, according to chronicles and documents? They conduct wars, conclude treaties in the name of the people, of whom they are the representatives; they govern the city; they administer justice. And at Florence, as elsewhere, the latter is only one of their duties, and only undertaken by them because so closely connected with the exercise of the political power that is, above all, their genuine and principal function. Besides, what was it that really led to the birth of the Florentine Commune? What save the lack of the higher political authority hitherto ruling Tuscany, and the necessity of making war against old and new foes! Accordingly the military and political elements unavoidably prevailed.

We are further confirmed in this idea by examining the constitution of the Consular bench. At first it would seem that all or some of the Consuls presided without distinction, while later, three members were chosen in turn, and entitled Consules super facto iustitiae, or even Consules de iustitia, to preside for one month; at a still later date two Consuls presided for a term of two months, and finally, after the nature of the primitive government has been changed, we find a single Consul acting as president throughout a whole year.126

They might be, but were not necessarily, legal experts, since they only pronounced and confirmed the judgment decided upon without either preparing or formulating it. This duty fell to a real iudex ordinarius pro Comune, together with three proveditors or provisores, who examined the case and wrote the sentence. The Consuls merely sat as presidents of the tribunal, and when, as sometimes occurred, they failed to appear, the tribunal acted on its own account. Therefore their office was practically the same as that of Countess Matilda herself—i.e., to represent sovereignty without filling the place of judges.127

The real nature of the new government will be best understood after investigating the different elements of the civic body from which that government was necessarily evolved. As we are aware, there were two leading classes and interests dividing the city between them—that is, the trade guilds, and the associations of worthies, or of the Towers. In numerical strength the people had greatly the advantage; but the worthies (grandi) were far more cultivated, trained to arms and politics, and already somewhat versed in the art of government. Therefore, the Consuls were recruited from this class, and at first always chosen from so small a number of families, that the office appeared to be almost an hereditary one. The misfortune of Florence, as indeed of all the other communes, Venice excepted, was that the grandi were never agreed among themselves. Feudal nobility in Italy resembled an exotic plant transferred to uncongenial soil. Elsewhere, being of German origin, it formed part of an entire political system; it was under the orders of the emperor to whom it adhered; it had certain heroic qualities; it created a special form of civilisation, and a literature that flourished in France and Germany, but it never throve in Italy, and in Tuscany least of all. Our feudal lords, being solely dominated by personal interests, leant on the Empire, the better to combat the Pope; on the Pope, to combat the Empire; on the one or the other indiscriminately to combat the cities. Even on Florentine territory the same thing continually occurred. The grandi established within the city walls were, it is true, of a very different temper, and much nearer to the people, whose life they shared; but they comprised very discordant elements; for whereas some of these grandi had risen from the people, others were descended from feudal houses, with whom they maintained friendly relations and on whose aid they could rely. Thirst for power was a speedy cause of division among them, and the ease with which one party gained favour with the working classes, while the other was backed by the nobles of the contado, fostered the growth of civil strife. Then, later on, as more nobles deserted their castles for the city, a regularly aristocratic and Ghibelline party was formed in opposition to the Guelph and popular side. This point, however, was still far removed, for the common necessity of making head against the baronage of the contado long prevailed over all other interests, since the very life of the Commune was involved in that struggle.