Contarini lived to witness this happy conclusion of the recent war, and died in 1382, when seventy-four years old. He may be called the last of the hero-princes of his time. He had been a grand central figure in the dreadful days of the Chioggian War; by his example he had imparted courage to failing hearts, and by his oath to conquer Chioggia or see Venice no more, he made it impossible for his soldiers and sailors to desert him, and thus his chivalry warded off failure and catastrophe. The generation which followed him listened to the tales of those who had fought under Pisani on the sea, or served under Contarini at Chioggia, with the same breathless interest with which our youth now listen to the stories of the veterans who were engaged in our own struggles for the preservation of our country.
When Vettore Pisani died, there was but one man thought worthy to replace him, and Carlo Zeno was made Admiral of the Fleet. Under him the Adriatic bore no enemies to Venice upon its bosom, and he suffered no defeat in any encounter, although the remaining thirty-six years of his life were largely spent in the service of the Republic.
Jacopo Zeno, Bishop of Padua, was the grandson of Carlo, and his biographer. He tells us that Carlo was "square-shouldered, broad-chested, solidly and strongly made, with large and speaking eyes, and a manly, great, and full countenance; his stature neither short nor tall. Nothing was wanting to him which strength, health, decorum, and gravity demanded."
The details of his life as given by the Bishop are not altogether assuring as regards "decorum and gravity;" for although he certainly was an admirable general or admiral, he was equally capable as a pirate, and though his patriotism was undoubted, he could make himself quite at home with any sort of men from any part of the globe. Indeed, he served Galeazzo Visconti at Milan and in Piedmont for ten years with the same zeal that he hnd served Venice. During this time he loaned four hundred ducats to Francesco da Carrara, who then was at peace with Venice; some years later this money was repaid, and the entry in Carrara's book was simply this: "To Carlo Zeno, paid four hundred ducats."
After the death of the Carrarese and after Zeno's return to Venice, this register was sent to the Ten. A suspicion that Carlo Zeno had accepted a bribe was the natural result, and he was called before the secret tribunal. He told the simple truth; but it availed nothing, and he was sentenced to loss of public place and rank, and two years in prison! The Bishop vividly portrays the indignation which followed this sentence in Venice and in other cities where Zeno was known; and he does not say that his grandfather was a prisoner for two years, but he does say that when he was at liberty he went to Jerusalem, and turned his thoughts to spiritual things.
As he was returning, he aided the King of Cyprus to defeat the Genoese and save the island with the cunning and skill of his younger days, though he was now past seventy; and after reaching Venice, he married a third wife, as his grandson frankly states, "for no other reason than to secure good domestic government, and a consort and companion who would take upon herself all internal cares, and leave him free to study philosophy and the sacred writings."
He surrounded himself with learned men, and his house became a centre for the exchange of thought among scholars, statesmen, and good citizens, while he spent his days in reading, writing, and constant attendance on the services of the Church. "In the cold winter he had his bed filled with books, so that when he had slept sufficiently he could sit up in bed, and pass the rest of the night in reading, nor would he put down his book save for some great necessity."
But this serene and undisturbed life did not continue to his end. His wife and his favorite son, the father of the Bishop, died; the son was but thirty, and his old father was desolate. His son Pietro was a naval commander of honorable repute, but it was on Jacopo that the old man's heart was fixed. At last, in 1418, when eighty-four years old, and honored by all Venice, the father also died.
The religious orders claimed the privilege of carrying him to his grave; but the seamen of Venice rose as one man, and hastened to the Doge to claim their right to bear the body of their beloved commander. "Their prayer was granted; and with all the ecclesiastical splendors in front of them, and all the pomp of the State behind, the seamen of Venice carried him to his grave, each relay watching jealously that every man might have his turn."
His tomb was in a church of the Cistercians, destroyed long since. Its site is now a part of the Arsenal. Let us hope that his bones rest beneath so fitting a monument as this for "Zeno the Unconquered."