Thus Venice, at the very moment of her successful expansion eastwards, found herself confronted on her western border by a prince who could advance weighty claims to the most valuable of her recently acquired dominions. The republic was thus called upon to |Parties in Venice.| solve one of the most serious problems of her whole history. Hitherto power on the mainland had come to her in the course of events; it had been the product of her obvious interest in protecting her trade routes and the sources of her supply of food. There had not as yet been any deliberate going out of her way to seek for territories. But her most pressing interests were now secured, and the question at once arose whether she could or would stop at the point which she had reached in 1421. Upon this question were formed the two great parties which divided Venice during the remainder of the century. The Doge, Tommaso Mocenigo, who held office from 1414 to 1423, urged the maintenance of the status quo as the only means of retaining that maritime supremacy which was essential for the defence of the overwhelming interests of Venice in the east. To enter into Italian politics as the avowed rival of Milan for ascendency in Lombardy would inevitably result in handing over the Levant to the Turks. And if Venice lost her commerce, she would find territorial dominion, which she could only gain and keep by employing hired foreigners in place of her own citizens, a very unsatisfactory source either of wealth or of political greatness. On the other hand, many of the younger nobles, headed by Francesco Foscari, laid stress upon the undoubted interests of Venice on the mainland, and upon the certainty that the duke of Milan would never abandon his claims to Verona and Padua. They contended with vehemence that the western frontier as it stood was hopelessly insecure, that a state must either advance or lose ground, and that aggression is often the only means of defence. But the policy of this party was really inspired less by these arguments, sound as they were in some respects, than by the instinctive greed for territory which had become the guiding motive of the great Italian states.
The difference between the two parties was brought to a head in 1423 by the appearance of successive embassies |Appeals from Florence.| from Florence to demand aid against the duke of Milan. Filippo Maria had resumed his father’s schemes of aggression in Tuscany and the Romagna. Florence was forced into war to defend her independence, and her troops suffered one defeat after another. Nothing but the intervention of the great northern republic seemed likely to arrest the duke’s progress, and the appeals to Venice became more and more pressing. The first embassy in 1423 had been repulsed by the influence of Mocenigo, but he had died later in the year, and his place was filled by the election of his opponent, Foscari. Still, parties in Venice were too evenly balanced to admit of a decisive intervention in the war, and the Florentine envoys proceeded from prayers to threats. If Venice would give no aid, Florence would seek her own safety by joining with Milan. ‘When we refused to help Genoa, she made Visconti lord of the city; if you refuse to help us, we will make him king of Italy.’ At the critical moment the Florentine appeal was reinforced by the arrival of Carmagnola, who had incurred the jealous suspicion of Filippo Maria, and had been driven in disgrace from his service. His announcement that the duke would never be satisfied till he had driven the Venetians from Lombardy, and the prospect of utilising so distinguished a general against his former employer, turned the scale in favour of Foscari and his party. At the end of 1425 it was decided to join Florence in open war against the duke of Milan.
The struggle opened with notable successes for Venice. Brescia was taken in 1426, and in December Filippo Maria confirmed its cession by a formal treaty. But the treaty was only a device to gain time and to collect forces. In 1427 hostilities were renewed, |War between Venice and Milan.| and three of the most famous condottieri of the day—Francesco Sforza, Niccolo Piccinino, and Carlo Malatesta—commanded the forces of Milan. But Carmagnola gained a brilliant victory at Macalo (October 11), and in 1428 Visconti again made peace by handing over Bergamo in addition to Brescia. Thus in two campaigns the Venetian frontier had been extended from the Adige to the Adda. But Filippo Maria could hardly remain satisfied with an arrangement which brought his enemies within striking distance of Milan itself. In 1431 the war was renewed, and Carmagnola was induced by lavish payments and promises to remain in the service of Venice. The republic had now to face the difficulties and dangers of employing mercenary soldiers. From the first the practice had been adopted of sending two native nobles to the camp as proveditori. Nominally they were responsible for the commissariat, but their real function was to keep a jealous watch on the conduct of the general. Carmagnola had already incurred the suspicion of his employers. Except in the battle of Macalo he had taken little personal part in the war, and had shown himself more solicitous of his own interests than of those of Venice. He had released his prisoners without ransom, in accordance with the etiquette of his profession, and had openly conducted an independent intercourse with the duke of Milan. It seemed that he had no wish to go too far in crushing a prince whom he had formerly served and might serve again. Still, as long as their arms were successful, the Venetian oligarchy had kept their fears and suspicion to themselves. But in 1431 came a series of reverses. Francesco Sforza won a victory at Soncino, and the Venetian fleet on the Po was destroyed through the failure of Carmagnola to come to its support. Failure was taken as a proof of treachery, and the Council of Ten determined to inflict an exemplary punishment.
They acted with characteristic duplicity and decision. Carmagnola was invited to Venice to discuss the next campaign, and his distrust was removed by a triumphal reception. But he was hurried from the palace |Execution of Carmagnola.| to prison, and a secret trial resulted in his condemnation and death (May 5, 1432). In the picturesque history of the condottieri of the fifteenth century the execution of Carmagnola is one of the most famous episodes. He had done nothing that was not in accordance with the traditions of his craft, but one state at any rate ventured to give striking proof that she would not allow independence to her hired defenders. It was a dangerous dilemma from which Venice sought to extricate herself. A too eminent and successful general might endanger her freedom, but it was difficult in the future to induce the ablest men to serve a state which was ready to exact such rigorous penalties.
The war continued for nine years after Carmagnola’s death. Florence was allied with Venice, and thus the attention of Filippo Maria was engaged in Tuscany as well as in Lombardy. This diversion was the salvation of Venice, which was more than once on the verge of losing not only Brescia, but also Verona. Fortunately for her, too, her rule was more lenient than that of Milan, and her subjects were resolutely in favour of their new against their former master. The struggle was complicated by the action of Francesco Sforza, who throughout played his own game and joined one side or the other as his private interest dictated. His desire was to force Filippo Maria to give him the hand of his natural daughter, Bianca, and to make this marriage the foundation of a principality in Lombardy. He was at last successful in attaining his end. The long siege of Brescia was raised by his intervention on behalf of Venice, and a peace in 1441 secured to Venice the possession of Brescia and Bergamo. In the same year Venice expelled the ruling house of Polenta from Ravenna, and took possession of that city, a step which brought the republic southwards towards the states of the Church and prepared the way for a prolonged struggle with the papacy.
Filippo Maria had been compelled to give his daughter with the lordship of Cremona and Pontremoli to Francesco Sforza, but he dreaded and disliked his son-in-law and schemed to effect his ruin. Sforza, however, showed himself as adroit an intriguer as the duke. He defeated Niccolo Piccinino and his two sons, and induced Venice and Florence to renew their war with Milan. At the head of the army of the republics he reduced his father-in-law to such straits that he must concede all demands. Just as he was prepared to desert his employers |Death of Filippo Maria.| in order to earn the succession to Milan as his reward, the news arrived of Filippo Maria’s death (August 13, 1447).
With Filippo Maria the male line of the Visconti came |Succession in Milan.| to an end. There were three possible claimants through females—Sforza through his wife, the duke of Orleans through his mother Valentina Visconti, and Frederick of Styria through his grandmother Virida Visconti. But none of these claims had any legal validity, as the investiture by Wenzel had only recognised male succession. The citizens of Milan, not unnaturally, deemed that despotism was at an end and restored a republican government. These events excited the keenest interest in Venice. For more than twenty years the Venetians had been engaged in almost continuous war with Milan, but since 1428 they had not gained a square yard of territory in Lombardy. Foscari and his followers urged that advantage should be taken of the confusion following Visconti’s death to establish Venetian ascendency, and they carried the day. It was a fatal decision from the point of view of the policy which they advocated. If the republic of Milan had been allowed to establish itself, the result within a few years would have been the alienation and revolt of the subject cities, and in the troubled waters Venice could have fished with great advantage to herself. But the hasty attack on the part of the Venetians forced the newly formed republic to throw itself into the arms of the person who was most dangerous both to Milanese independence and to Venetian ambition. Francesco Sforza undertook to defend Milan against Venice, and he showed equal promptness and ability. He destroyed the Venetian fleet on the Po at Casalmaggiore and defeated their army with great loss at Caravaggio. The Venetians, having made one false step, tried to redeem it by doing still worse. They made a treaty with Sforza, by which he |Francesco Sforza, duke of Milan, 1450.| pledged himself to hand over to them Crema and the Ghiara d’Adda on condition that they would not oppose his designs. The wily general now turned his victorious troops against his employers, who were wholly unprepared to cope with such unexpected treachery. One city after another had to open its gates, and in 1450 Milan surrendered and acknowledged its conqueror as duke. Now the Venetians could realise the folly of their conduct. They had found it hard enough to cope with Milan under the rule of the cowardly Visconti, but they could have no chance of extending their rule in Lombardy if the duchy were allowed to pass to the first soldier of the age. They determined by a strenuous effort to overthrow Sforza before he had securely established his authority. But they were unsuccessful in the war which ensued, and the tragic news of the fall of Constantinople compelled them to turn their attention from Italy to their imperilled interests in the east. A peace was patched up with Milan at Lodi in 1454. Venice resigned her recent acquisitions, and her western frontier was restored to the same limits as in 1428.
For half a century the history of Venice had been closely bound up with that of Milan through their mutual rivalry for territorial expansion in Lombardy. With the peace of Lodi this intimate connection ceased for forty years. As long as the Sforza dynasty was secure in Milan, Venice could not hope to do more than retain Brescia and Bergamo. And for a time her interests in Lombardy were thrust entirely into the background by the necessity of facing the absorbing problem of Turkish advance in the east. The policy of Foscari, so gloriously attractive in the days of Carmagnola’s early successes, had ended in disastrous failure. Men forgot the annexation of Bergamo and Brescia, and remembered only that Crema had been lost, and that while they were fighting for it Constantinople had fallen. For some time the party hostile to the doge had found a way of attacking him through the person of his son. Jacopo Foscari had been condemned in 1445 for taking bribes and sentenced to exile. Two years later the prayers of his father obtained leave for his return. But in 1450 one of the judges |Deposition and death of Foscari.| who had imposed the original sentence was murdered. Jacopo Foscari was denounced to the Ten; and although there was no real evidence against him, and torture failed to extract a confession, he was again exiled. Conscious of his innocence, he made strenuous efforts to escape, and was imprudent enough to correspond with the Turks and with Francesco Sforza. On a charge of treason the exile was brought to Venice, again subjected to terrible torture, and sent back to Candia, where he died in 1457. These events shook the reason of the aged doge, and his neglect of his official duties induced the Ten to demand his abdication. Even the Venetians, trained by the constant fear of denunciation to suppress their feelings, could not help murmuring as the old man descended the steps of the palace. A few days later Foscari died, listening, it is said, to the bells which announced the election of his successor. He had served the state loyally, if mistakenly, for thirty-four years, he had raised Venice to a lofty position among the powers of Italy, and he met with the ingratitude which the instinct of self-preservation impelled the Venetian oligarchy to show towards every individual who exercised a commanding influence on the destinies of the republic.
While these events were going on at home, Venice was keenly interested in Eastern affairs. Now that Constantinople |Venice and the Turks.| had fallen, it was no longer possible to pursue the old policy of bolstering up the Eastern Empire as a buffer between the Turks and Venetian possessions. Two alternative courses were open to the republic. She might take the place of Constantinople and become the bulwark of Christendom against the infidel. Or she might endeavour to secure the continuance of Venetian commerce in the east by making an advantageous treaty with the conquerors. The heroic policy was advocated by Foscari, the more cautious and selfish policy by his opponents, and the declining credit of the doge enabled them to carry the day. In April 1454 a treaty was concluded with Mohammed II. On payment of a yearly tribute, the Venetians were allowed to retain their ports and other possessions in the east, and to continue their Levant trade in temporary security. A district in Constantinople was assigned for the residence of Venetian merchants under a Venetian bailiff. It was no small argument in favour of this treaty that it enabled Venice to strike another blow at her old rival Genoa. The Genoese had for some time aided the Turks in various ways, and had received the promise of special trade privileges as their reward. But the Sultan found it cheaper to buy off the hostility of a possible foe than to pay the stipulated price for services already rendered.
For a few years Venice profited by the treaty of 1454, and abstained from giving aid to the struggling Christian populations, either of the Balkan provinces or of Greece. But the Turkish conquests were too extensive and rapid not to awaken serious misgivings. In spite of the famous relief of Belgrad by Hunyadi, Servia was reduced, and Wallachia and Bosnia were overrun without serious resistance. Only Albania, under the heroic Scanderbeg, succeeded by desperate efforts in prolonging its independence, and in extorting terms from the Sultan. It was more alarming to the Venetians when the Turkish armies crossed the isthmus into the Morea, and equipped a fleet for the conquest of Lesbos and the other islands in the Ægean. The most strenuous opponents of war had to admit the uselessness of a paper treaty to restrain a conqueror so unscrupulous as Mohammed II. At this juncture, Pope Pius II. was making strenuous efforts to rouse the princes of Western Europe to a crusade against the Turks. Venice was convinced that the further maintenance of peace was impossible; and if the pope could secure them allies in the name of religion, their prospects of success would be improved. But these hopes of assistance were doomed to disappointment, when, in 1464, Pius proceeded to Ancona to welcome and bless the crusading host. The Venetian fleet was the only efficient force which Christendom had furnished in response to the demand of its ecclesiastical chief.