VII.
Although the city of Pisa derived all its strength and influence from its maritime trade, nevertheless—either from being always on the Imperial side, or because such was the predestined fate of all Italian sea-board republics—it was dominated by a powerful aristocracy to the same extent as were Genoa and Venice. With their usual astuteness, the Florentines had long sought to bring their influence to bear on the Pisan nobles, in order to create discord among them. Giovanni Visconti, entitled Judge of Gallura, from the high and remunerative post once held by him in Sardinia, as governor of several provinces, for the Pisan Republic, had been subsequently (1274) exiled on account of his Guelph proclivities, and had then joined the vicar of King Charles and the Guelph League against his native state. He died in 1275; and just at that time Count Ugolino della Gherardesca, one of the most powerful and ambitious nobles of Pisa, who aspired to establish a despotism there, was driven into banishment with other formidable Guelphs (1275). These exiles not only made alliance with the Florentines, but, in conjunction with the League, or Taglia, made war on Pisa and captured several castles, Vico Pisano included. In the September of the same year they returned to the attack in co-operation with the Angevin vicar-royal, Florentines, and Lucchese, and, defeating their fellow-citizens at three miles' distance from Pisa, seized the Castle of Asciano, which was handed over to the Lucchese. In 1276 the war was resumed by Florence and Lucca, and again at the instigation of Count Ugolino and his friends. This was the occasion alluded to at an earlier page, when both sides brought powerful armies into the field and came to a pitched battle between Pisa and Pontedera, on the banks of the so-called Fosso Arnonico, a canal into which the Pisans had formerly diverted the waters of the Arno for the better defence of their territory. Again the Pisans were worsted, and the bitterness of defeat enhanced by having to accept peace on the terms proposed by Florence, of which the first and hardest condition was the readmittance in their city of all the banished Guelphs, and particularly of the ambitious Count Ugolino, whom they hated so deeply.
Pope Gregory X. was highly displeased by this war, and by the ardour and pertinacity with which it was pursued, for he considered the Ghibelline spirit of Pisa a barrier to the growing power of the Florentines, who, in spite of being Guelphs, used every effort to become wholly independent of the Papacy. Wherefore, after vainly enjoining them to put an end to the war, he excommunicated their city. But the Florentines offered slight excuses, and until 1276 paid no attention to his thunders. Then at last peace was declared, but during its very brief duration plans were arranged for new expeditions.
After this the Republic of Pisa enjoyed a few tranquil years, and owing to the vastness of its trade and the extension of its colonies, its finances were rapidly restored to their former prosperity. Unfortunately, certain Pisan families had become so powerful by means of their wealth that, no longer satisfied with republican equality, they sought to dominate the internal affairs of the State and direct its foreign policy in favour of their personal ambition rather than of the interests of the State. The Judges of Gallura and Arborea, Counts Ugolino, Fazio, Neri, and Anselmo della Gherardesca, all had their own little courts and men-at-arms after the fashion of princes. Absorbed in covetous rivalries, they distracted the attention of the magistrates from the dangers threatening their republic, and daily becoming graver and more imminent. For, in fact, the strength of the Republic was not only almost exhausted by the continuous attacks of the Guelph League, but for some time past the rivalry of Genoa had been threatening to culminate in a still deadlier strife. As both these maritime cities were Ghibelline, they had every reason to be at peace with each other and combine in defending their interests against the far greater sea power of Venice. But, on the contrary, this only seemed to exasperate their reciprocal jealousy. Their fleets were constantly in collision in Levantine waters. They had a desperate encounter in 1277 near Constantinople and on the Black Sea. It ended in disaster for the Pisans, who had been the assailants, and from that moment they panted for revenge. Nor were opportunities lacking. While the Venetians were asserting absolute dominion over the Adriatic, the Genoese and Pisans, hard by on the Mediterranean, were always crossing each other's tracks, inasmuch as both were engaged in the same trading ventures, and both possessed colonies in the same islands of Corsica and Sardinia. Thus, they were involved in continual conflict. Then, too, as the Guelph League was specially hostile to Pisa, it supplied Genoa with perpetual pretexts for beginning the hostilities which the Florentines were seeking to incite by every political manœuvre. At last their reciprocal hatred reached so high a pitch that the Pisans themselves were the first to provoke the war. Their burning desire for reprisals was continually kept aflame by the greed of the nobles, who hoped to convert the conflict into a ladder to power, and whose own ambitions were spurred by the crafty encouragement of Florence.
Corsica was ruled by a certain Sinucello, bearing the title of Judge of Cinarca. He had been educated in Pisa, and the Republic had assisted him to regain and increase his hereditary possessions in the island. Governing there as a vassal of Pisa, he nevertheless transferred his allegiance to the Genoese, who occupied another part of the island. Later on, after perpetrating every species of cruel and tyrannous deeds, he turned against the Genoese and devastated their Corsican towns. Taking refuge at Pisa, that republic granted him protection as a former vassal, equally regardless of the subsequent treaties, by which he had sworn fealty to Genoa, and of all the barbarities he had committed. Pisa tried to reinstate Sinucello in Corsica by force, but as the Genoese were determined to keep him at a distance, this served to provoke hostilities. In fact, being sent back to the island with 120 horse and 200 foot, he was able to recapture his possessions; but from that moment (1282) the Genoese and Pisan ships were always chasing one another over the Mediterranean in order to engage. Accordingly, from the end of 1282 to the August of 1283, a continual series of sanguinary conflicts took place, sometimes attaining the proportions of real naval battles; and although the Pisans were generally defeated, they always rallied their forces, and prepared to resume the struggle. On one occasion half their fleet perished in a storm; nevertheless, shortly after this (1284) they sent twenty-four galleys to escort Count Fazio to Sardinia, where collisions with the Genoese were of constant occurrence. In fact, on the 1st of May, they encountered the latter's fleet, gave battle, and carried on an obstinate fight that lasted the whole day. Finally, however, the Pisans were beaten off, leaving thirteen galleys and a great number of prisoners in the enemy's hands. Notwithstanding this reverse, the same year witnessed another naval battle between the two republics, that proved one of the most memorable fights on record in the Middle Ages.
Genoa, whose victories had cost her dear, caused vessels to be built and equipped in every port of the Riviera; while Pisa, although exhausted by so many conflicts on sea and land, made prodigious efforts of all kinds. By appealing to the patriotism of her noblest families, she elicited a worthy response. The Lanfranchi, a numerous Pisan clan, equipped no less than eleven galleys at their own expense; the Gualandi, Lei, and Gaetani, furnished six; the Sismondi three; the Orlandi four; the Upezzinghi five; the Visconti three; the Moschi two; and other families joined in equipping one. Andrea Morosini, the Venetian, one of the highest naval celebrities of the time, was chosen Podestà, with full powers to make all requisite preparations for the war, and to then assume the chief command of the fleet at sea. Thus both sides sent forth the most formidable armaments to be seen in those times. Genoese writers reckon their vessels to have been ninety-six in number, and those of Pisa seventy-two; whereas Pisan historians reckon their fleet at 103 sail against 130 of the Genoese. At any rate, both are agreed that the Genoese fleet outnumbered the Pisan, and that its superiority was enhanced by the greater skill of its commanders. The two armadas cruised in search of each other for some time, and then tacked about before giving battle, each trying to gain the better position. It is averred that the Pisans sailed to the entrance of the port of Genoa, discharging silver arrows and balls covered with purple cloth, in order to make a display of wealth, after the usage of the time. Anyhow, it is known that some of their galleys were anchored off Porto Pisano, and others lying in the Arno, between the two bridges of the city, when the news came that the Genoese fleet had been sighted. All Pisa was in a turmoil; scattered crews hastened on board, and the archbishop, attended by his clergy, and bearing the banner of the Republic, appeared on the Ponte Vecchio, and blessed the fleet. Thereupon, amid joyful shouts, the galleys weighed anchor, and swept down the river to the sea. It is related that at the moment the benediction was pronounced the crucifix on the standard fell down, which was judged a bad omen.
The 6th of August, 1284, was a memorable day. The two fleets met off Meloria, at a short distance from Porto Pisano. Here in past times the Genoese had been severely defeated by the Pisans, and here they now sought revenge in the famous battle so fully recorded by our historians. The remoteness of the event, and the discrepancies between Tuscan and Genoese accounts, make it very difficult to obtain absolute knowledge of all the details of this fight. Accordingly it will be safer to fix our attention on the best ascertained and more remarkable points.
The Pisan fleet consisted of three squadrons. Of these, Admiral Andrea Morosini commanded the first; while the second was under Count Ugolino, who, in spite of his courage, was no trustworthy leader, on account of the devouring personal ambition urging him to subordinate the interests of the State to his own greed for power. The third was commanded by Andreotto Saracini. Oberto Doria, an officer of great courage and experience, was high admiral of the Genoese fleet. As it first hove in sight, this armada seemed no greater than that of the Pisans, but only because a reserve of thirty galleys, commanded by Benedetto Zaccaria, lay hidden behind Meloria—or, according to other accounts, behind Montenero—ready to join in the fight when required. Soon after midday the battle began, and raged for some hours without any decisive result. But when the two flag-ships met, both fleets closed in a general engagement. On either side vast numbers of combatants, killed, wounded, or stunned, were hurled into the sea. The waves were crimsoned with blood; drowning men clutched at oars to save their lives, but were relentlessly thrust under by the rowers' next strokes, owing to the impossibility of checking the manœuvres in the thick of the fight, and at the most critical moment. Just then Benedetto Zaccaria, having been signalled for, hove in sight, full sail, and with sweeping oars, in time to decide the fate of the day. Seeing him draw near, the Pisans knew they were outnumbered, and their courage began to fail, although they continued the fight with undiminished ardour. As Zaccaria dashed in, he contrived to bring his galley alongside Doria's, so as to wedge Morosini, whose flag-ship was making a gallant defence. At the same time the galley bearing the Pisan standard was also surrounded by the foe. On all sides the sudden arrival of the reserve squadron had given fresh courage to the Genoese and diminished the hopes of Pisa. The struggle was now too unequal; nevertheless, both sides were unwilling to end it, for each bitter enemy was seeking to destroy not only the other's fleet, but the very life of the rival Republic.
But the conflict could not go on for ever. The Pisan banner, on its tall iron shaft, was suddenly seen to bend, and the next instant it fell with a horrible crash beneath a storm of blows, while at the same moment the admiral's flag-ship began to give way, and Morosini, who had been shockingly wounded in the face, was forced to surrender. At this juncture Count Ugolino, for his own treasonable purposes, gave the signal for flight, and thus completed the catastrophe. Seven Pisan galleys were sunk, twenty-eight captured by the foe, while, according to the inscription on the Church of St. Matteo at Genoa, no less than 9,272 prisoners were taken. Certain Pisan writers raise the number to eleven, and some even to fifteen thousand; but this may have included many of the slain, who may undoubtedly be reckoned at five thousand. At all events, after the battle of Meloria, it became a common saying in Tuscany that one must now go to Genoa in order to see Pisa.
When those who had escaped returned to Pisa, all the town flocked into the streets to ask news of their kindred, and nearly all had to mourn the loss of some killed or captured relations. A host of old men, women, and children wandered about the city maddened with despair, so that at last the magistrates were forced to ordain that all should keep to their own homes. Soon all the inhabitants were clad in black, and only women were seen in the streets. Genoa, on the contrary, rejoiced and made glad; but victory had no wise softened its hatred against Pisa. This was proved when the fate of the prisoners came to be discussed. Some citizens proposed putting them to a heavy ransom; others to exchange them for the Castel di Castro in Sardinia, the key of the Pisan possessions there; but neither suggestion was approved. Orators raised their voices, crying that it were best to retain the prisoners until the war should be really at an end. Thus the women, being practically widowed, but unable to re-marry, population would be checked, and the Pisan army prevented from repairing its losses. In fact, the war continued sixteen years longer; and by the time the prisoners were released, their number was reduced to one thousand and odd, all the rest having succumbed to disease, old age, injuries, or hardships.