Lazzari, Guida.
Some idea of the character of Francesco Foscari is given by the following anecdote. The Giustiniani family had built three palaces on the Grand Canal, one of which had been sold as a residence to the young Duke of Mantua, whom his brother, when dying, had commended to the protection of the Republic. Foscari could not endure the thought that the Giustiniani should still have two palaces finer than his only one, and when the government sold the third at auction in 1428, he bought it and raised it by building another story in order that it might outdo the others. It was then said to have three hundred and sixty-five windows, and it was valued at twenty thousand ducats, say, at fifteen thousand pounds sterling, which was a vast sum for those days.
Foscari’s name recalls dramatic memories, and, to tell the truth, it has frequently been taken in vain by poets and playwrights, and even by some chroniclers and historians. His son Jacopo was not the martyr he has been represented to be, nor was he himself the ‘Roman father’ of the play. I shall tell the true story—a terrible one enough, even in its accurate form—after briefly reviewing his reign.
The dying Mocenigo had not been altogether wrong in his predictions about Foscari, for before long the Republic was at war with Milan, as the ally of Florence, and was squandering money and men at a disastrous rate. Foscari undoubtedly belonged to the war party, yet in the true interests of his country he really controlled his own fiery nature for some time, and endeavoured to maintain a neutral position with regard to the quarrels of the Visconti with the Florentines, during which it was the constant aim of the latter to break up the alliance which was still in force between Milan and Venice.
Giovanni Galeazze was dead. His eldest son, Giovanni-Maria, had succeeded him, a maniac who is said to have fed his hounds on human flesh; and he had been dethroned by Facino Cane, and then massacred by the Milanese, as he richly deserved. His brother, Filippo-Maria, when Facino Cane died childless, promptly married the latter’s widow, the unhappy Beatrice da Tenda, in order to inherit something of Facino’s popularity and all of his vast estates. This being accomplished, and not caring for her company, as she was twice his age, he brought a false accusation against her, tortured her and sent her to the scaffold, while she protested her innocence. But this was only an incidental crime, and would doubtless have been forgotten with a hundred others but for the noble bearing of the unfortunate woman throughout the tragedy that ended her life. The historically important fact is that Filippo-Maria determined to recover every inch of the wide territory which had been ruled by his father, and that if he had accomplished his end, Venice would have been required to restore what she had taken from the Milanese.
Florence was at that time in one of her only too frequent phases of ill-luck, yet her hatred for the Visconti was such that she could not resist the temptation to fight Milan under all circumstances. She needed help, of course; above all, she needed money, and Venice was the richest nation in Europe. As has been seen, too, from Mocenigo’s dying speech, the two States were in close commercial relations. It was natural, therefore, that Florence should seek assistance of Venice; it was equally natural, according to the old traditions of Venice, that aid should be refused, unless it could be given profitably.
Foscari was for war, but was not able to influence the Senate in favour of the Florentines, to whom he had always been friendly. It was a stranger and a fugitive, a soldier of fortune of the highest physical
PALAZZO REGINA DI CIPRO
courage, of the lowest origin, and of no principles at all, who turned the scale—no less a personage than the famous condottiero Carmagnola.