VI.
Nevertheless, it would be an error to suppose that the domination of the greater guilds was assured and uncontested in the interior, at least, of the city. On the day when the scheme was first mooted, in the Calimala court, of placing these guilds at the head of the government, they speedily recognised that the possibility of success was solely owed to the fact of their having fought and conquered the nobles with the help of the lesser arts. Hence, on the one hand, they had to face their natural and inveterate foes, the survivors of the feudal order, and on the other the lesser guilds coveting a share in the government which they had helped to establish. Thus the Republic comprised three classes of citizens and three separate parties. It is true that the greater guilds constituted by far the stronger of the three factions, but the others might become, if united, a very formidable opposition. And their union was no impossible contingency.
The difference, in fact, between the greater and lesser guilds was not merely one of degree as regarded their respective wealth and power; what divided them was the diversity of interests urging them to pursue an opposite policy. The wool-dresser or silk merchant was always ready to sacrifice his last florin, provided the Republic could gain possession of Leghorn or Porto Pisano. Accordingly he invariably kept a strict watch on the policy of Lucca and Genoa, to prevent them from making friendly advances to the Pisans. The Florentine banker was anxious that his Republic should always possess skilful ambassadors and consuls, able to supply full details of all that occurred in Rome, Antwerp, or Caffa, and impede the Siennese, Genoese, Venetians, and Lombards from gaining too much influence in those cities. Where any question of this kind was concerned the members of the greater guilds were always disposed to promote hostilities, no matter how prolonged, expensive, or dangerous, and to subject both themselves and the State to unlimited sacrifices. But financial and political interests weighed little with the blacksmiths, masons, carpenters, and other members of the fourteen lesser guilds, which nevertheless formed so considerable a part of the Florentine population. It mattered far more to them that Florence should be inhabited by rich and splendid gentry; that sumptuous palaces, villas, and monumental churches should have to be built; that there should be a continual increase of luxury and good living among the citizens of rank and wealth, by whom they earned their subsistence. Warfare, on the contrary, put a check upon luxury, and the greater guilds were always issuing decrees against it, precisely on account of the exigences of the wars they so constantly had on hand. Hence the poorer classes detested the opulent burghers, whom they had helped to raise to power, who had subsequently excluded them, as well as the nobles, from the government, and who, while accumulating untold millions, often lived in the city on a footing of Spartan frugality; the men daily promulgating new edicts against female luxury in dress; forbidding the use of gold and silver ornaments, prohibiting all lavish expenditure for entertainments or wedding banquets, even going so far as to limit the number and choice of viands, and exclude gold and silver plate from festive tables; but who, nevertheless, were always very ready to squander millions in attacks on the Pisans, the King of Naples, the Visconti of Milan, or even for a church, or an additional consul at Caffa or Pera. This difference of temper generated party hatred. Nor should it be omitted that some of the bitterest outcries against the greater guilds came from the women of Florence, who, being naturally opposed to warfare, and addicted to extravagance, objected to the vexatious restrictions imposed by law, while yet contriving to evade them with indescribable ingenuity.[365]
It is very easy to realise how good an opportunity this afforded the nobles of gaining the favour of the populace by stirring these germs of discord. They exercised no trade, lived on their revenues, but spent freely and lavishly in Florence. Accordingly, whenever engaged in fresh attempts to seize the government, or preserve their remaining share in it, they always allied themselves with the mob that lived—or at least believed itself to live—solely at their expense, and roused its resentment against the popolani grassi—or well-to-do burghers—by dwelling on the fact that whereas all the guilds were equally engaged in trade and commerce, a considerable number of them had no share in the power exclusively monopolised by the rest. The democratic spirit was far too lively in Florence for these devices to assure the safety of the nobles, much less their return to power; but they had the effect of stirring the masses to a burning and irresistible thirst for power, and of awakening revolutionary passions in the mob. Thus, at the moment of finally losing their old supremacy in the city, the nobles achieved the revenge of bequeathing to Florence a prolonged inheritance of strife that kept the Republic divided, and hastened its fall.
In fact, when at last the lesser guilds obtained a share in the government, they were never at one with the greater trades. Their hostility was continually shown in all councils, tribunals, and public gatherings; and they sometimes resorted to the perilous means of inflaming the worst passions of the mob which, as usual, served as a ready tool for ambitious aims. In this way a spirit of anarchy was unloosed, leading first to the revolt of the Ciompi, then to the necessity of seeking a protector for the Republic, and finally to the rule of the Medici. But before arriving at these extremities, there were two centuries of struggle, during which Florentine affairs were almost invariably in the hands of the burghers. On several occasions the reins of power seemed to have slipped from their grasp, but they always managed to retain enough influence to secure the election of magistrates of their own choice. In this way victory was restored to them, and they again took possession of the government. When, on the other hand, the triumph of anarchy made it requisite to seek a protector, and this protector, summoned to the defence of the Republic, sided with the malcontents and tried to establish a tyranny, the burghers then contrived to unite every faction in the interest of their common freedom and reinstate the Republican government, thus giving it a fresh lease of life. By dint of incredible sagacity, daring, and steadfastness, they managed to struggle on amid a thousand dangers, both within and without the walls. Although plunged in perpetual conflict with those who desired peace and claimed ever wider rights; although surrounded by most powerful external foes now attempting to destroy their trade, now their Republic, their energy and patriotism never wearied, never failed to be on the alert. It was a feverish time of unceasing stress and strain, and freedom, though always on the verge of annihilation, was kept alive for two centuries in the midst of communities where it was perishing. And even as the burghers had managed to create all sorts of financial combinations for the increase of trade and multiplication of wealth, so they showed inexhaustible ingenuity in devising new schemes and institutions to prolong the life of their Republic.
In matters of foreign policy Florentine diplomats became so renowned for sagacity and quick-wittedness, that on certain points they enjoyed even higher repute than the famed ambassadors of Venice. The latter, in fact, with their old traditions of statecraft, pursued the invariable policy of a strong, calm and self-reliant government. Their strength was the outcome of the strength and wisdom of a republic commanding both fear and respect, and whose voice seemed to be heard in the speech of its envoys. Every Florentine ambassador exercised, on the contrary, a direct personal influence, due to his own sharpness of intellect, extraordinary knowledge of mankind, and marvellous aptitude for comprehending everything and making everything clearly understood. Undoubtedly the State acted in him and by him; but less because he served as its mouthpiece than because it had succeeded in evoking and training all his mental powers and rendering him an intelligent and independent personality. Florentine merchants, notaries, administrators, and diplomats were universally prized, and seemed at home in every corner of the globe. Hence it is said that one day Pope Boniface VIII., seeing that the ambassadors sent to him from different parts of the world were one and all Florentines, quietly remarked, "You Florentines are the fifth element in creation."
It was in the midst of these political conflicts, of this ferment of the human mind, that art and literature rose to such splendour, that the whole world was, as it were, illuminated by the radiance shed by Italian cities, and shining most brightly from Florence. The far-reaching energy of this city of commerce and trade was felt almost everywhere; but even at points where this had failed to penetrate, the genius of Florentine literature and art seems to have asserted its power and initiated modern culture in Europe.
VII.
All this, however, was carried on in the face of continual and new dangers, threatening the very life of the Republic, and sometimes only to be averted by super-human efforts. Memory instinctively carries us back to the Florence of old with its council and its Consuls, yearly taking the field united and agreed, for the purpose of abasing the nobles and clearing the highways for the march of its trade; and then, having reduced the hostile barons one by one, compelling them to live within the walls, subject to the equal pressure of republican laws;—to the times when the State could only overcome its more powerful neighbours by emancipating the slaves of the soil and granting political privileges to traders hitherto unpossessed of any such rights. On recalling those times, we easily recognise that they contained the germs of future greatness for the Commune that by dint of continual warfare succeeded in augmenting its resources in every direction. Later, however, things were radically changed, owing to many causes, and above all in consequence of the new method of warfare to which we have already alluded and which must now be more fully described.
Down to the fourteenth century republican armies were composed of foot soldiers, lightly equipped with sword, shield, and helmet, and some slight defensive armour for leg or breast. The horse were few in number and never decided the fate of a battle. All barbarian armies had been composed much on the same plan, excepting those of the Huns and Moors, who were almost always mounted, and of the Byzantines, whose cavalry had frequently defeated the Goths. Frederic Barbarossa's Italian campaigns had been chiefly carried on by infantry and withstood by the infantry of our communes, who could then turn all able-bodied citizens into soldiers at a moment's notice. But in the campaigns of Frederic II., Manfred and Charles of Anjou, a new method of war had been imported into Italy from Germany and France. The Florentines had learnt this to their cost at the battle of Montaperti, when their numerous army was routed by the charge of a few German horse. From that moment the issue of all Italian battles began to be decided by heavy cavalry or by men-at-arms. The mounted soldier was clad in steel from head to foot, although not yet, as at the close of the fifteenth century, encased, together with his steed, in such ponderous armour, that, once fallen, neither could rise from the ground without help. Armed with a very long lance, the horseman could overthrow the foot soldier before the latter could approach him with his short sword. Besides, this weapon never served to pierce the armour either of man or horse; and the arrows of the bowmen were equally useless. Accordingly, a few hundred men-at-arms pushed forward like a movable and impregnable fortress into the midst of a host of infantry sufficed to rout it in a very short time. This state of things lasted until the invention of powder and firearms produced a radical change in the condition of the Italian communes. For mounted troops required much training and great expenditure. It was not enough to maintain great arsenals, to create and train a new breed of horses, but every trooper had also to be kept in steady practice, devote his whole time to warfare, and keep two or three squires continuously drilled and employed. These squires carried all the armour and weapons and led the knight's charger, which was only used in battle. Only then, too, were knight and steed in full harness, otherwise both would have been exhausted in the hour of danger. Hence it was impossible for our republics to raise cavalry, seeing that citizens, earning their living by trade and commerce, could not forsake their daily work to acquire the art of war. Therefore, soldiering became a regular trade, and all choosing it for their career speedily began to put a price on their swords. Thus from the closing years of the thirteenth century we begin to find soldiers of various nationalities—Catalans, Burgundians, Germans, and other foreign horse—in the ranks of republican armies, and the number of these mercenaries was continually on the increase.