Salve Venetia, gleanings from Venetian history; vol. I

by F. Marion Crawford

Corner was first examined by Gaspare de Grossis, Doctor of Laws.

Rom. iv. 166, note.

I felt as if my soul were being torn out of me, when he said that I must speak the truth; and when I answered that I had told it he gave me a wrench of the rope, and had me drawn up and brought to him like dead, threatening me greatly, that he would have this truth; and seeing me like dead he went away, and I was let down into the ‘forno’ by a leathern belt, and was placed upon a mattress on the boards, and was given the yolk of an egg and a drink. This was my dinner, and I was not able to get my hand to my mouth in any way; so I lay that night and never could sleep. In the morning came he that watched me, and made fire, and gave me the yolks of two eggs, and with these I remained that day.

On the next Friday morning he came to me and had me bound and drawn up and taken to him, asking if I would tell the truth, and when I said I had told it, he said he wished to know who had told the Signory about the Count (Carmagnola) having an understanding with my Lord Duke. I said I knew no one who had made the accusation. Seeing that he could get nothing else, he had me fastened to the rope, and gave me a wrench of the rope that I thought I was dying. Seeing that he could get nothing more from me, he made me get up and had my arms set (they were dislocated by the torture), with even greater pain, and had me brought to him, and he spoke his mind (abusively) and went away. On the next Saturday in the evening he caused a bar to be placed on the floor in a hollow, and my feet were put under it and hammered upon with a wooden pin, so that I almost died of the pain. On the last day of December, which was Saint Sylvester’s day, there came to me the aforesaid Messer Gaspare, and with him came Lunardo di Lunardi, the inquisitor of Milan, at the hour of matins, and had me taken up. Let every one guess how my heart felt. I commended myself to God and went before them. Being before them Lunardo asked me if I knew him, and I said: No. And he answered me: Also I will not leave thee till I have so wrought that thou shalt know me; and saying: Thou hast refused to tell the truth to Messer Gaspare; the prince has sent me to know the truth of thee; thou hadst best tell it and get his good grace; but though thou wouldest not tell it, be quite sure that thou shalt nevertheless tell it, or thine arms shall be left hanging to the cord (torn from the body). And with other words, which I write not, for hearing this every one may fancy how my heart felt. I answered that I had told the truth to Messer Gaspare, and that he (Lunardo) ought to be sure of this, because if it had been my own son who had accused the Count Carmagnola I would say so rather than desire more torture, and all the more he should consider that I would do so if it were a stranger; and I said the like as to what concerned the other chief points (of the inquiry). Then Lunardo said to me: Thou wilt not name the real traitor; he had me undressed and fastened to the cord, etc.

On the second of January Corner was told that he was to be tortured again, and he addressed his tormentors as follows:—

Since this is your will, which will soon be done, I ask one thing of you as a grace, that since I am to lose this body so miserably, I may not lose my soul, and that I may confess and receive communion, in order that our Lord God may have mercy on this poor soul. Lunardo answered: I wish it may go to the house of the Devil. Hearing this cruel speech I answered that although fortune had given him power over the body, God had not given him power over the soul, and that I hoped, by His grace, that if I had good patience this should be my purgatory, for my innocence’ sake; and that He would receive my soul into His glory, and (I said): The more pain you inflict on this wretched body so much the more merit will He give me, and to Him I commend myself.

The unhappy man was kept in prison six years, and was supposed in Venice to be dead, but he succeeded in sending a message to his son. The Republic then sternly demanded of Visconti his release, and he returned to his home at last, deformed by torture, pale and emaciated, with a beard that descended to his belt. He lived just two months after that, prematurely broken by his horrible sufferings, and was followed to his grave by a vast concourse of the people. Romanin says that he was a nephew of the Doge Marco Corner, whose brave defence of his poverty and of his burgher wife, when he was a candidate, will be remembered. It is more likely that the Doge was the Provveditor’s great-uncle, as he died a very old man, more than seventy years before the death of the unfortunate Giorgio. It is possible, however, that Romanin may have meant that the latter was the Doge’s grandson, for in Italian there is but one word to signify ‘grandson’ or ‘nephew,’ though when the former meaning is intended it is usual to make it clear.

Portraits of Doge Francesco Foscari: one, attributed to G. Bellini, Museo Civico, Room XVI.; another, by Bartolommeo Bon, Camera degli Stucchi, ducal palace.

Foscari’s name is so closely associated in most persons’ memories with the tragedy of his worthless son, that we are apt to forget that his reign lasted a third of a century and covered one of the most important periods in Venetian history. It embraces most of the wars of the league, the rise and fall of Carmagnola, the end of the house of Visconti, and the foundation and elevation of the Sforza family; and, most important of all, the taking of Constantinople by the Turks.