The Conspiracy of Gianluigi Fieschi, or, Genoa in the sixteenth century.

by Emanuele Celesia

Gerolamo Fieschi now began to fortify his position. Gianettino, the expected tyrant of Genoa, being dead, it was no longer desirable to assail the Doria palace. The decrepit Andrea was not obnoxious to their rage. He was in error or spoke falsely who wrote that Fieschi desired the death of Prince Doria that he might plunder the splendid carvings, sculptures and furniture of the Doria palace. The government itself by the mouth of the lawyers of Padua, affirmed that Fieschi did not wish to assault that house or to vent his wrath against the prince, towards whom he felt no personal grudge. This is the most splendid testimony that Gianluigi did not aspire to power but to liberate the Republic. And if those who undertook to transmit to posterity the memory of these events had studied the official documents, they could not have distorted history by such grave errors. It is noteworthy, too, that the name of France was not uttered on that fatal night.

Count Gerolamo left his brother Ottobuono to guard the gates and marched through the principal streets to arouse the people for the national cause. The word liberty, rung in the ears of people but yesterday despoiled of rights which they had enjoyed for centuries, produced a marvellous effect in the deep midnight silence. New crowds crying, “Gatto and liberty” gathered around the Fieschi standard. The very women who, when the first uproar called their husbands and brothers into the streets, clung to them with tears, when they heard the name of Fieschi hushed their sobs and uttered cries of joy. Such was the power of that name. The night was now dark; the confusion and the terror became indescribable. The shouts of the populace and the blare of the trumpets filled the old nobles with mortal dismay, and closing their massive doors they did not venture to set foot in the streets.

Suarez Figuerroa, the minister of Cæsar, who had foreseen the conspiracy, though he had not believed the outbreak so near, was seized with a mortal fright, and wandered half insane through the streets in search of a way of escape from the city. Paolo Lasagna encountered him and dissipated his personal fears by assuring him that however the conflict might end, the character which the minister of Cæsar bore would perfectly protect him from harm, and conducted him to the ducal palace. Lasagna, though he was not opposed, being a new noble, to the movement on foot, yet being a follower of the Adorni party, he thought the occasion propitious for the restoration of his friends to power. Therefore collecting some of his political sympathisers, he conferred with them, and they decided to wait until the balance should incline in favour of one or other of the contending parties. If the attempt of the Fieschi should be crushed, they would do nothing. But if it should triumph, then they would unite with the Spinola party and rouse the city with the cry of Barnaba Adorno. For the present, they would watch the course of the storm and see whom it destroyed.

As we have said, the Ducal office was at that time vacant, and Nicolò Franco was administering the government. Besides Lasagna and Figuerroa, there were collected about him in the palace Cardinal Gerolamo Doria and Prince Adamo Centurione who had taken refuge there at the first sounds of revolution. On receiving intelligence of the assault on the gate of San Tommaso, they sent to reinforce it Bonifacio Lomellini, Cristoforo Pallavicini and Antonio Calvi with fifty men of the Ducal guard. The reinforcement had hardly reached the street Fossatello when it was surrounded and badly handled. The survivors with difficulty gained the Centurione palace and took shelter there. Francesco Grimaldi, Domenico Doria and some other nobles had taken refuge in this palace. They reproached the fugitive soldiers with their cowardice and offered to lead them against the enemy. Though but few in number they advanced boldly against the revolutionists at San Tommaso; but Calcagno made a vigorous sortie and routed them, killing some and capturing others.

The count’s enterprise was moving with full sails. Tommaso Assereto, who was appointed to carry the arsenal by a coup de main, arrived at the door and giving the countersign was about to enter without bloodshed, when his enthusiastic men sprang from under cover to enter with him and the garrison rushing to arms repulsed them with serious loss. The first attempt having failed, they went to the count who was awaiting the result of the attack in the street of Maruffi near the piazza San Pancrazio. He was fretting wrathfully because his ears had not yet been saluted by the bombard as arranged with Verrina. At the news of the repulse, he broke into imprecations upon their cowardice, and ordered Scipione Borgognino to embark at once on the floats and attack the arsenal by sea, while he in person led the attack by land. To assail a strong fortress with boats is a very perilous undertaking and it would not have been attempted but for the fierce ardour of Borgognino who, though not seconded by the galley of Verrina, determined to risk the assault.

Unfortunately the galley of Verrina was stationed in that part of the port which is called the Mandraccio, and when he attempted to work her towards the arsenal, she struck full on a sand bank under water, and held so firmly that their utmost efforts could not get her afloat. This was the cause of Verrina’s unexpected delay. At length, however, by superhuman exertion and enthusiasm they succeeded in lifting her off the bar and, with three other frigates, which had that same night arrived in port (as we read in the report of the Republic to Ceva Doria) moved forward to the assistance of Borgognino. The latter had overcome every resistance and driven the defenders from every defensible part of the works, and the count, hearing the roar of the battle within, assailed the gates at the moment Borgognino, beating down all opposition, rushed into the arsenal and ran to open it to his leader.

A more complete success could not have been hoped for by the conspirators. Of all their attacks that of Assereto only had failed, and that chiefly because the disaster of the galley had prevented a simultaneous assault by sea and land.

The night was dismal; the sea stormy; the cries of the Doria slaves, the clanking of their chains and the disorder of the assailants rendered the arsenal a scene of indescribable confusion. The count, seeing the necessity of preventing revolt among the galley slaves who were breaking their chains, with his natural audacity threw himself on board the galley in which the greatest disorder reigned, manned it with his own men and gave the command of it to some of his most trusted followers. Order was soon restored and he resolved to go into the city. He attempted to pass from the Capitana to the Padrona which was moored by the side of the former. But the shock of a float suddenly striking against them drove the vessels apart and the frail and imperfectly fastened bridge which connected them fell, carrying him with it down into the sea. With him fell the hopes of the revolutionists. Though the count was an able swimmer, he could not save himself on account of being encumbered with arms, and in the darkness and confusion no aid was rendered him.

This is the history of his death according to the writers of the time, with the addition that the count and Gianettino perished in the same moment. But as the water in the arsenal was not deep and the count’s strength and skill as a swimmer must have enabled him to save himself in spite of his armour, we are inclined to adopt the opinion of Campanaceo that he struck his temples against the bridge in falling and either fell senseless into the waves, or was so weakened by the blow as to be unable to make any exertion. In fact, when the corpse was taken from the water the head was found to have suffered a severe contusion.