The Guelphic party were roused to fresh efforts, though rather of gold than of steel: within a year, Forlì and Meldola had been surrendered to Gianni by their inhabitants, and in 1286, Guido, having made his peace with the Pope, was absolved from excommunication.
But this reconciliation was short-lived. Within three years he merited new censures, by accepting from the Pisans the command of their troops against the Guelphs of Florence and Lucca, along with the seigneury of their republic. Whilst he held that authority, the fearful tragedy of Count Ugolino was perpetrated in the Torre della fame, but we may presume him guiltless of its horrors, since neither the naive narrative of Villani, nor the magnificent episode of Dante, alludes to his name, whilst impugning that cold-blooded murder. Meanwhile the people of Urbino had taken advantage of his absence and embarrassments to rally for their freedom round the papal banner. Wearied of these struggles, and fretting under their penal consequences, he once more humbled himself before his ecclesiastical superior, and obtained absolution in May, 1295.[*22] It was probably the cordial reception which his overtures met from Celestine V., that obtained for that pontiff, after his canonisation, a high degree of devotional repute among the people of Urbino. The romance of most men's lives goes by in youth; that of Count Guido was reserved for his declining years. Embued with the devotional enthusiasm which St. Francis evoked from the mountains of Umbria, he deemed the Pontiff's pardon an inadequate expiation of his accumulated rebellions. Casting aside the gauds of sovereignty, sheathing the sword which he had never drawn but to conquer, he assumed the cord and cowl of the new order, and in the holy cells of Assisi, sought that peace which it had been the aim of his previous life to trouble.
This monastic seclusion, upon which he entered about the close of 1296, was, however, ere long, broken in upon by one of the most remarkable pontiffs that has occupied the chair of St. Peter, whom we must briefly introduce to the reader. Boniface VIII., of the ancient Roman house of Gaetani, was elected in the end of 1294, to supply the vacancy occasioned by the abdication of Celestine V., a visionary anchorite, whom six months' experience had convinced that the triple tiara was a load ill-suited to his brows. His resignation was chiefly brought about by the intrigues of Cardinal Gaetani, of whom Celestine is said to have predicted that he would attain to the papacy by the arts of a fox, rule it with the fury of a lion, and die the death of a dog. Chosen at an age already much exceeding the ordinary span of human life, Boniface wielded his sovereignty with a boldness of will and an energy of purpose rarely found even in the prime of manhood; and dying at eighty-six, he had in nine years shaken the thrones of many monarchs, by pretensions and intrigues untried by his predecessors. It would be foreign to our purpose to trace his career, and to reconcile the various and contradictory estimates of his character: those who wish to glance at the state of this controversy may consult the pages of two recent periodicals, in which the respective views of ultra Romanist and Protestant writers are ably developed.[23]
But to the point which more especially regards our subject, the feuds between Boniface and the house of Colonna. The validity of his election had been early questioned, and was long disputed, on the ground that the rights of his predecessor, as a legally chosen pope, were indefeasible by abdication. Such doubts, it may be well conceived, the fiery spirit of Boniface could ill brook, and upon a rumour that two cardinals, sons of Giovanni Colonna, had been heard to express them, he at once summoned them to his presence to state their opinion upon that delicate point. This was in 1296, after the Pontiff's fierce character had been amply developed by a reign of two years; and these cardinals instantly withdrew from Rome to the strongholds of their family, from whence they issued an answer, respectfully avowing their misgivings as to the matter in question, and offering to submit them to the decision of a general council. But their flight, and the delay of a few days, had been construed by the haughty Vicar of Christ as acts of contumacy; and even before their offensive manifesto reached him, he had directed the thunders of the Church against the two Colonna, visiting on their devoted heads the accumulated offences of all their line, without allowing them an opportunity of explanation or defence. The bull of excommunication proceeds, with more than wonted elaboration of abusive epithets, to designate the obnoxious race, as "detested by their dependants, troublesome to their neighbours, enemies to the community, rebels against the Church, turbulent in the city, fractious to their allies, thankless to their benefactors, unwilling to obey, incapable of command, devoid of humility, agitated by passion, fearless of God, regardless of man." A general proscription of their whole family and adherents, and a sequestration of their vast property, was followed up by the siege of Palestrina, their principal fief. Finding his exertions unequal to the reduction of that fortress, Boniface bethought him of the military experience of the old Ghibelline monk of Montefeltro, and demanded of him counsel, silencing his religious scruples by a preliminary absolution for the sin of reverting to worldly schemes. Thus pressed, Count Guido advised recourse to deceitful promises as the surest means of conquest; and "the bard of hell," who is an authority for this passage in his life, hence consigns him to the doom of an impenitent sinner. But let us hear the poet, through the version of Carey:—
Such is the passage that has given a celebrity to Count Guido, which neither his prowess nor his alleged treachery could have conferred.[*24] Yet there are not wanting doubts as to the fidelity of this picture of his latter days; indeed, the whole charge against him in the affair of the Colonnas has been considered apocryphal by the apologists of Boniface VIII., and is rejected by Franciscan writers. Villani, whilst confirming the fact that the chiefs of that lawless race were cajoled by the Pontiff into a surrender of "their noble fortress" upon terms which were shamefully violated, drops no hint that Guido was a party to the fraud. Nor is there any reason to suppose his Holiness in want of a prompter, such faithlessness being then in usual practice for political ends, and the old chronicler expressly tells us that the conscience of Boniface was very readily stretched for gain to the Church, under cover of the axiom that the end justified the means. Against these authorities the vision can scarcely be deemed of historic weight, especially as such breach of good faith was, probably, in the eyes of Dante, a less heinous offence than his reconciliation with the Guelphs.[25] Indeed the poet in the Convito ranks him with those noble spirits, "who, when approaching the last haven, lowered the sails of their earthly career, and, laying aside worldly pleasures and wishes, devoted themselves to religion in their old age."[*26] Of the merit or efficacy of such sacrifices at the dread tribunal, it belongs not to erring man dogmatically to judge: for our purpose it is more appropriate to notice the following brief of Boniface to the Franciscan superintendent of La Marca, as remarkable evidence of the devotional zeal which actuated the Count in assuming the monastic vows, and which
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"When joy of war and pride of chivalry Languished beneath accumulated years, Had power to draw him from the world." |
"Our beloved son, the noble Count Guido of Montefeltro, has repeatedly conveyed to us personally, and through credible informants, his wish, desire, and intention, after communing with his own heart, to end his days in God's service, under the monastic habit, as a means of effacing his sins against Him, and the mother Church of Rome; and this with the full assent of his wife, who is said to be willing to take upon herself the vows of perpetual chastity. We, therefore, commending in the Lord his devotional aspirations, which seemed disposed in all prudence to admit the spirit of counsel, and in order to the more free fulfilment of his vow,—will that his household be paid out of what movables he possesses, and that he assign to his wife from his real estate as much beyond the amount of her dowry as may give her a hundred pounds in Ravenna currency yearly, during her life, a divorce having been first duly pronounced between them, in the form customary and becoming when a vow of chastity has been undertaken. And we further desire that all such personal effects as may remain, after remunerating his attendants, shall be securely deposited, and lie in the hands of responsible persons in the meantime, until we shall come to further resolutions regarding the real and movable property which he now has. And further, as the advanced age of his consort places her beyond suspicion, it is our will that she have leave to remain in her present position, if she cannot be persuaded to a monastic retirement." After conferring on the Superintendent the authority requisite for carrying these resolutions into effect, the Pope concludes by desiring that it be left to the Count's unbiassed decision, whether he will enter one of the military orders, or adopt the more rigid rule of the friars minor of St. Francis. This letter is dated from Anagni the 23rd of August, 1296.[27] The option thus given him in no way shook his intention of conforming to the ascetic rule of "poverty and Francis:" and although his Countess Costanza did not follow his example by assuming the monastic vows, she passed the eight remaining years of her worldly pilgrimage in the not less strict seclusion of Santa Chiara at Urbino, a convent especially favoured by her posterity, and of such rigid discipline that the nuns went barefoot and wore no linen, rising habitually at midnight, and but once a year permitted to approach the grating in order to see their nearest relatives. Her lord's remaining life was of shorter span, as he died at Assisi on the 27th of September, 1298, and is said to have been interred in the church there. That his courage was not unmingled with cunning seems established rather by some incidents in his life than by the bitter lines of the Ghibelline bard; that his piety was shadowed by superstition is a conclusion suggested by the closing scenes of his life, and still more by his most stirring years having bent to the slavish control of astrological quackery to a degree exceeding even the darkness of his age. His zeal founded the family chapel, which may yet be seen in the lower church at Assisi,—its frescoes cruelly defaced; and the devotion of his family was long after specially directed to the service of St. Francis and Santa Chiara.[*28]
During the next century, the pedigree of the Montefeltri, and their feats of arms against rival seigneurs, such as the Brancaleoni, the Malatesti, and the Ceccardi, are involved in confusion which we need not stay to extricate. Heroes they were, but in fields which the wide glance of history has overlooked: they found no Thucydides to depict their gallant deeds, no Froissart to chronicle their fame. Fighting under Ghibelline colours, their victories were followed by papal vengeance, affording a pretext for new risings of their urban subjects, in one of which Count Federigo and his son were torn to pieces about 1322. But though Guelph was then the ordinary watchword of freedom, and though all who desired self-government were wont to rally round the Church, they often found, like the frogs in the fable, that they had gained a worse master. As a specimen of the papal legates of his day, we may mention Guglielmo Durante,[*29] a predicant friar, who presided over the ecclesiastical territories in Romagna, about the beginning of that century, giving his name to a town in the duchy of Urbino which he rebuilt, and which long afterwards became Urbania. His tomb is in the church of the Minerva at Rome, one of those fine monuments where architecture and sculpture unite to perpetuate the dead, and over which mosaic throws the magic of rich colouring. The inscription, after enumerating his legal and liturgical works, thus celebrates the energetic qualities of this mitred warrior: "Savage as a lion against his foes, he tamed indomitable communities, he put church rebels to the sword, and reduced the vanquished to servitude." No wonder that the citizens of Urbino preferred to such pastors a return under their hereditary lords. Nor was Umbria the only theatre of Feltrian prowess. Among the republics, Pisa was as devotedly Ghibelline, as were these counts among the great feudatories. Intimate political relations were the natural result, and the Pisans were seldom without one of that race as their seigneur to maintain the common cause against their Guelphic rivals of Florence and Lucca.
Antonio Count of Montefeltro and Urbino, eighth or ninth in descent from Antonio first Lord of Monte Copiolo. His family having for some years been expatriated, and their state a prey to intestine broils, the harassed citizens recalled him in 1377 as representative of their ancient chiefs; and from that time we can follow with tolerable certainty the generations and history of the Montefeltri. The imperial party in Italy was now reduced to a mere name, fitted rather for a cry of faction than to be the rallying point of international feud. The authority lost by the emperors in Central Italy had passed to the pontiffs, and Count Antonio, emancipating himself from the spell that had bound his race to a falling cause, gave to his posterity an example of loyalty to his over-lord the Pope. He is mentioned in a chronicle of 1384 as introducing certain reforms in the administration of justice, which before publication were submitted for approval by the municipal council of Urbino, and eight years thereafter he put forth various amended statutes and constitutions. His good sense was rewarded by peace at home and acquisitions abroad. Cagli and Gubbio drove out their domestic tyrants the Ceccardi and the Gabrielli, in order to welcome his sway,[*30] and he conquered Cantiano from the latter after a nine years' struggle. Benedict IX. welcomed him as an obedient son of the Church, and established him by new investitures in these towns, as well as in the former holdings of his family.[*31] His bitter strife with the Malatesti was with difficulty appeased by mediation of that Pontiff and of the Venetians. Allied with Florence, Siena, and Milan,[*32] he gained the fame of a gallant captain, whilst his exertions to govern his people with humanity and justice established his reputation as a mild, generous, and benignant prince. His prudence, high counsel, and lofty spirit are lauded in an old chronicle of Forlì;[*33] and a sonnet, inspired by religion rather than poetry, and ascribed to his pen, will be found in the [Appendix I].