Molo of San Marco; Columns of Execution.
In August the Genoese fleet appeared before Venice, under the command of Pietro Doria. Happily, some preparations had been made, and the ports of Lido and Malamocco were blocked with sunken vessels, chains, and palisades, but that of Brondolo was still open, and there the enemy entered. Genoa was now allied with Hungary, Naples, Padua, Aquileia, Austria, and Ancona against Venice. Twenty-four thousand men were landed, and siege laid to the citadel of Chioggia. The Venetians who held the place under Pietro Emo were not more than thirty-five hundred; for six days these brave men held out against such fearful odds, and even then were defeated by accident. Hazlitt gives a picturesque description of the event:—
"On the 16th an alarm was suddenly spread among the troops of the Podestà that the bridge behind them was in flames. It was a fireship, of which the combustion in the canal of Santa Caterina had diffused the erroneous impression. The Genoese caught and echoed the cry, and renewed their flagging exertions with fresh ardor. They are mowed down by the guns as they advance; the carnage is terrific. Still, like demons in whose breast the thirst for vengeance and the lust of spoil has extinguished the fear of death, they continue to come up. The Venetians begin to lose ground and to fall back upon the bridge. They recede a little and a little more. It is in vain that Emo and fifty chosen men-at-arms dispute the front with desperate tenacity and transcendent heroism, foot to foot and hand to hand. The position is slowly forced. The allies are upon the bridge. The Venetians quicken their retrograde pace. In their haste they omit to destroy the communication; and they enter the gates pell-mell with their pursuers. Thus Chioggia fell."
The allies and Venetians had each lost many men, and nearly four thousand Venetians were prisoners. The town was pillaged, but the women were protected from harm. Some of the Venetians paid enormous ransoms,—Emo three thousand ducats; and others probably as much, so that the gain to the allies was large.
No words can portray the effect of the news of the fall of Chioggia at Venice. The bell of the Campanile was tolled, and at once the armed citizens filled the Piazza. The sobs and moans of women were heard; elsewhere they were seen wringing their hands and tearing their hair in mute despair. Some men, too, yielded to fear; while others in their avarice hid their treasures. But the majority were true Venetians, and declared that "the State cannot be lost while those remain who can man a galley and handle a pike;" and the aged Doge, the Council, and Senate refused to allow any reason for despair. There was a scarcity of food, and the Republic was much straitened in its resources; but Venetian fidelity would endure everything before it would submit to defeat.
Nothing had been known of Carlo Zeno since his separation from Pisani; his arrival would turn the scale, and he might come any day, since an envoy had been sent to recall him, and before taking any further warlike measures it was determined to try negotiation. But Doria, who almost felt that at Chioggia he had conquered Venice, replied: "By God's faith, my Lords of Venice, ye shall have no peace from the Lord of Padua or from our Commune of Genoa until I have put a bit into the mouths of the horses of your Evangelist Saint Mark. When they have been bridled, you shall then, in sooth, have a good peace; and this is our purpose, and that of our Commune." Some Genoese prisoners had been sent with the embassy, and their unconditional surrender offered as a bait to the allies; but Doria scornfully sent them back, saying that in a few days he would come to release them and the rest of his countrymen.
Then all Venice was roused; the bell which summoned the popular assembly was rung, and the people were informed of their present peril, and invited to aid the government with wisdom and advice. There was, however, but one opinion; all desired to arm and go forth with such galleys as were at the Arsenal,—they thought it better to perish in defence of Venice than to perish in her palaces and squares from want. A terrible crisis followed: all salaries were suspended; no business was done; and by a new loan, to which the citizens liberally subscribed, the finances were bettered. The city was fortified by earthworks from Lido to Santo Spirito, and towers were erected on each side the pass of San Niccolo.
A new captain-general was now to be elected, and the favorite of the government, Taddeo Giustiniani, was nominated; but the people with one accord refused to serve under any man save Vettore Pisani. After a day's debate, late in the evening some Senators were deputed to inform Pisani that the Doge and Senate were awaiting him. Naturally the hero was much moved; and he replied that he preferred to have the night for reflection, and to wait on the Seigniory the next morning.
Accordingly, at daybreak, the delegates, followed by the people, came to the gates of the prison; and when he appeared with his usual cheerful and good-humored aspect, he was lifted by some of his old sailors and borne on their shoulders to the palace, amid cries of "Viva il Nostro Vettore! Viva Vettore Pisani!" but he chidingly cried, "Viva San Marco!" The Doge and senators met him on the staircase and graciously welcomed him. Mass was celebrated. Pisani was some time in conclave with the College, the people constantly shouting his name outside; and when he emerged he was borne, as he had come, to his own house in San Fantino, where he had not been for fifteen months.
As he was passing the Campanile, his old pilot, Corbaro, drew near to him and shouted out, "Now is the time, Compadre, for revenging yourself by seizing the dictatorship of this city. Behold, all are at your service; all are willing at this very instant to proclaim you prince, if you choose!" Pisani boiled with rage, and dealing Corbaro a heavy blow on the cheek, burst into indignant speech, and at last exclaimed: "Let none who wish me well say Viva Pisani! but, Viva San Marco!" and the populace then shouted, "Viva San Marco e Vettore Pisani! Viva il Pisani, ch'e nostro Padre!" and the throng was so dense from the Piazza to San Fantino that not another man could have found room to stand.