The Lion of Saint Mark: A Story of Venice in the Fourteenth Century

by G. A. Henty

Hastily putting on his armour, the merchant started to Saint Mark's, accompanied by Francis, who put on a steel cap, which he preferred to the heavy helmet, and a breastplate. A crowd of citizens were pursuing the same direction. The numbers thickened as they approached the Piazza, which they found on their arrival to be already thronged with people, who were densely packed in front of the palace, awaiting an explanation of the summons.

There was a look of deep anxiety on every face, for all felt that the news must be bad, indeed, which could have necessitated such a call. Presently the doge, accompanied by the council, appeared in the balcony. A complete silence fell upon the multitude, the bell ceased tolling, and not the slightest sound disturbed the stillness. One of the councillors stepped to the front, for the doge, Contarini, was now seventy-two years old, and his voice could hardly have been heard over so wide an area.

"Citizens of the republic, gather, I pray you, all your fortitude and constancy, to hear the news which I have to tell. It is bad news; but there is no reason for repining, still less for despair. If Venice has but confidence in herself, such as she has throughout her history shown, when danger seemed imminent, be assured that we shall weather this storm, as we have done all that have preceded it. Chioggia has fallen!"

An exclamation of pain and grief went up from the crowd. The speaker held up his hand for silence.

"Chioggia, contrary to our hopes and expectations, has fallen; but we are proud to say, it has fallen from no lack of bravery on the part of its defenders. As you know, for six days the brave podesta, Emo, and his troops have repulsed every attack; but yesterday an unforeseen accident occurred. While our soldiers were holding their own, as usual, a Genoese fire ship exploded in the canal behind them. The idea, unfortunately, seized the troops that the bridge was on fire. The Genoese shouted 'The bridge is in flames!' and pressed onward, and our soldiers fell back, in some confusion, towards the bridge. Here Emo, with four brave companions, made a noble stand, and for a time checked the advance of the foe; but he was driven back. There was no time to destroy the communication behind him. The enemy pressed on, and, mingled with our retreating soldiers, entered the town. And so Chioggia was taken. Our loss in killed is said to be eight hundred and sixty men; while the rest of the garrison--four thousand in number--were taken prisoners."

A loud cry of anguish burst from the crowd. Numbers of those present had relatives and friends among the garrison of Chioggia; and to all, the news of this terrible disaster was a profound blow. Venice was open now to invasion. In a few hours, the enemy might appear in her canals.

The council and the nobles endeavoured to dispel the feeling of despair. While some harangued the people from the balconies, others went down and mingled with the crowd, assuring them that all was not yet lost, that already messengers had been despatched to Doria, and the Lord of Padua, asking for terms of peace; and even should these be refused, Venice might yet defend herself until Zeno arrived, with his fleet, to their rescue. The doge himself received deputations of the citizens, and, by his calmness and serenity, did much to allay the first feeling of terror and dismay; and in a few hours the city recovered its wonted aspect of tranquillity.

The next morning the answer to the overtures was received. The Lord of Padua, who was doubtless beginning to feel some misgiving as to the final issue of the struggle, declared that he himself was not unwilling to treat upon certain terms, but that the decision must rest in the hands of his colleague. Doria, believing that Venice was now in his grasp, rejected the idea of terms with scorn.

"By God's faith, my lords of Venice," he cried, "ye shall have no peace from the Lord of Padua, nor from our commune of Genoa, until I have put a bit in the mouths of the horses of your evangelist of 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!

"As for these captives, my brethren," he said, pointing to some Genoese prisoners of rank, whom the Venetians had sent with their embassy, in hopes of conciliating the Genoese, "take them back. I want them not; for in a few days I am coming to release, from your prisons, them and the rest."