"Get 'em drunk and then trash the flag!"

This is a post about military strategy.  Mind you, military strategy is not really my thing.  In fact, when I read books with lovingly written, detailed battle scenes in them, I tend to skim those parts, looking for the really necessary bits (who won, who was brave and who was cowardly, who was clever and who was stupid, who's dead) and then, armed with the requisite information but not drowned in the particulars, I get on with the story. 

But I did find one example of a seriously clever bit of medieval mayhem that intrigued me.  It has to do with the lead-up to the famous Battle of Montaperti, in which the outnumbered army of Siena somehow managed to inflict a resounding defeat on the Florentines on September 4, 1260.  And it involves two men who were fighting on the same side.

Battle of Montaperti

Siena, which was of a Ghibelline persuasion, was aided by German mercenary troops sent by King Manfred of Sicily, natural son of the late great Emperor Frederick II and the closest thing to an imperial voice to be found at that time.

Manfred of Sicily

Also assisting were the Ghibellines from Florence, exiled from their city, many of them temporarily resident in Siena, under the formidable leadership of the commander Farinata degli Uberti.

Farinata degli Uberti

These are the two guys we're interested in here.  If you look at the literature and the contemporary and near-contemporary histories, you'll find Farinata described as proud, arrogant, heretical, great-souled, partisan, unbending, courageous.  He certainly was one of the mightiest opponents the Guelfs of Florence ever had to deal with.  When the Guelf party finally achieved its ascendancy, the Uberti were not only banished from the city for decades - explicitly excluded from future amnesties and pardons - but their properties were torn down, and the vast open space that resulted (rare in the crowded Italian cities of that time) was never built on again - today it is the Piazza della Signoria.

Manfred, on the other hand, was described as handsome and blonde, of noble appearance, and courtly in his manners.  In the case of this particular story, "blonde" may be the most important attribute.  He was the son of Frederick and his beloved Bianca Lancia, who Frederick may or may not have married when she was on her deathbed, and he spent most of his life squabbling with close relatives over various titles.  But that's another story, if not several.

(Actually, Farinata was blonde, too.  That's where the name 'Farinata' comes from - it means his hair was the color of ripe wheat.  His birth name was Manente.)

The situation, according to chronicler Giovanni Villani (1280-1348, so he was close to being contemporary), was this:

 All was not mellow between Siena and Florence.  (It seldom was, actually.)  The disgruntled Florentine exiles (who were Ghibellines, remember?) living in Siena, under the leadership of Farinata, decided to send a delegation to Manfred to ask for military support to help them win back Florence.  They sent a contingent of their finest, staunch Ghibellines all (and thus, loyal supporters of Manfred, who was the emperor's son).  But Manfred ignored them.  He made them wait, and wait, and wait.  He had other irons in the fire, and helping the Florentine exiles was not his highest priority, Ghibellines or not.

The ambassadors, who had hoped to come away with 1,500 horsemen to shore up their cause, became impatient and decided to go home.  But as they were leaving, Manfred promised them a paltry 100 horsemen, German mercenaries.  The ambassadors were inclined to refuse such an insulting offer, but, being prudent, they first consulted with Farinata.  I don't know whether Farinata was part of the delegation or whether they had to send a messenger to him, but in any case, they got their answer.

And what did the proud Farinata say?  Did he urge them, as they must have expected, to turn up their noses at such an insulting offer?

No.  He said, according to Villani, "Be not dismayed, neither refuse any aid of his, be it never so small.  Let us have grace of him to send his standard with them, and when it be come to Siena we will set it in such a place that he must needs send us further succour."

The plot thickens.

So, Manfred, probably relieved not to have an argument on his hands, gave them the 100 horsemen (whose salaries the Ghibellines in Siena would, of course, have to pay), and he let them carry his standard, which bore this device:

When the Florentine Ghibs returned to Siena with this meager force,"great scorn," says Villani, "was made thereof by the Sienese, and great dismay came upon the Florentine refugees" who had definitely hoped for something better.

We've now arrived at May, 1260, and Florence is starting to make hostile forays against Siena.  In fact, a large Florentine army wound up camped outside Siena, with its carroccio (a four-wheeled chariot painted red, drawn by a great pair of oxen covered in red cloth, and bearing the great standard of Florence, which was red and white).  Here's a picture of a carroccio, though not Florence's:

By this time the Florentine exiles must have been wondering what Farinata had been thinking.  But thinking he was, and so it came to pass that one day the exiles provided the Germany mercenaries - all 100 of them - with a great feast, including lots and lots of wine.  Let's return to Villani for the particulars:

"Having plied them with wine till they were drunk, in the uproar they incited them to arm themselves and mount on horseback to assail the host of the Florentines, promising them large gifts and double pay; and this was done craftily by the wise, in pursuance of the counsel of Farinata degli Uberti...

The Germans, beside themselves and hot with wine, sallied forth from Siena and vigorously assailed the camp of the Florentines, and because they were unprepared and off their guard, holding as nought the force of the enemy, the Germans, albeit they were but few folk, did great hurt to the host in that assault, and many of the people and of the horsemen made a sorry show in that sudden assault, and fled in terror, supposing that the assailants were more in number."

The Florentines, however, took a second look and realized they had just been attacked by a mere handful of inebriated Germans, so they turned around and fought them after all, despite that ignominious beginning.  Not a single German survived.

The triumphant Florentines, having captured Manfred's banner, proceeded to drag it through the camp on the ground and then carry it back to Florence.  It was not long after this that the Florentine army returned home, at least for the time being.

Was Farinata distraught at this treatment of his Germans and of Manfred's banner?  Not our über-Ghibelline.  Everything was going exactly according to plan.

Because - wait for it - no way could Manfred sit still for this insult.  That was his very own banner, after all.  Enraged, he sent 800 German horsemen at his own cost (with a little help from the Sienese) for a period of three months, along with Count Giordano, his marshall, to lead them.  All these men, with horses, equipment, etc., arrived in Siena by the end of July, and there was much rejoicing.

More stuff happened before the Battle of Montaperti actually took place, but this shrewd move on Farinata's part was what made the difference.

So in this case, military strategy had nothing to do with shield walls, well-placed archers, heavy artillery, careful deployment of cavalry and infantry, or any of the other things generals traditionally do.

It was simply, "Get the Germans drunk, send them off to do something suicidal, and make absolutely sure the banner gets trashed."   That much, I can understand.

Images in this post are in the public domain, with the exception of Manfred's device, which is licensed to Adelbrecht via the Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 3.0 Unported license, Wikimedia Commons.

Women and Children Last: Peacemaking Marriage IV

In this last of four posts talking about Florentine peacemaking marriages in the 13th century, we will be discussing another couple joined together in the spate of peacemaking marriages between Guelfs and Ghibellines in the year 1267.

For a bit of background on the political environment that made these alliances seem desirable and useful at the time, see my first post on the subject.

For the fate of a couple joined in 1239, see this post.

For more on another couple also joined in 1267, see this post, which details the marriage of the sister of the husband in this post.


The Third Couple

For this post we will concentrate on the union of Ravenna Donati with messer Azzolino di Farinata degli Uberti.

First, the bride.  Ravenna Donati was the daughter of the prominent Guelf, Simone Donati, and she was sister to the soon-to-be-notorious Corso Donati and his brothers Sinibaldo, Maso, and Forese (the latter a poet and a friend of Dante's).  She was also sister (or possibly half-sister) to Piccarda, whose story we'll touch on briefly a bit later.

Messer Simone Donati was a knight, well respected throughout Tuscany.  He was, of course, among the Guelfs exiled after the battle of Montaperti, and in 1267 was only recently returned to his city.  He had lost property to the tune of 2,200 lire in that Ghibelline victory and its aftermath.

Simone served as podestà in Arezzo and other cities on several occasions - a prestigious and lucrative "guest mayor" position always given to an outsider, in the interest of finding someone nonbiased.  (Sometimes it worked.)  He spoke for the city (and for his party and his sesto or zone of the city) at the peace negotiations with Cardinal Latino beginning in 1279.  Much earlier, in 1261, he and Bonaccorso Adimari (see mention of him in the first post of this series) were ambassadors to Conradin, legitimate son and heir of the late Frederick II, trying unsuccessfully to persuade the young man to join them in taking up arms against his uncle Manfred.

Conradin

Simone had a reputation for being ethically challenged.  He was entangled in legal issues in Florence and was ordered, in 1277, to stop interfering in the affairs of the Pinti hospital.  During one stint as podestà in Parma, it is said that he falsely accused a man of stealing horses and put him to the torture, the better to have his way with the unfortunate man's attractive daughter.

Some say this man was the Simone Donati who took part in the famous Gianni Schicchi swindle (see this post for more on the Gianni Schicchi story).

So that's Ravenna's daddy. What about messer Azzolino's?

The Ghibelline chief Farinata degli Uberti was discussed at some length in the previous post, so I won't describe him again here.  He died in 1264, so this marriage must have been negotiated by whoever was the new head of the Uberti family - possibly Azzolino himself - or by someone like the new leader of the Guelfs, Guido Novello (more about Guido in the first post of this series).

Farinata degli Uberti

In any case, Azzolino and Ravenna were wed.  At the same time, Azzolino's sister Beatrice married Guido Cavalcanti (see last post).  Soon afterwards the peace broke down, and Azzolino - and, presumably, his family - had to flee Florence.  Azzolino was among the Ghibellines plotting to re-take the city, and there was a price on his head.  He and Ravenna managed to produce two children before he was captured:  a son, Lapo, and a second child, Ytte or Itta, who some historians believe was a boy and some think was a girl.

But captured Azzolino was, along with his brothers Neracozzo and Conticino and another man, messer Bindo de' Grifoni da Fegghine.  The prisoners were held in Florence pending the advice of the podestà, messer Bernardo d'Ariano, who advised that they were to be treated as traitors to the crown (the relevant crown being on the august head of Charles of Anjou, by then King of Sicily).

Charles of Anjou (and crown)

This wasn't good news for the Uberti brothers.  (At least three other brothers, Lapo, Federigo, and Maghinardo, remained safe.  One, Maghinardo, was still alive in 1282.)
The youngest, Conticino, was spared because of his youth, but he died in prison a short time later.

Ravenna was said to have pleaded for her husband's life, but to no avail.  It's reported that as Azzolino and his brother Neracozzo were being led to their execution, Neracozzo asked his brother "Where are we going?"  Azzoline replied, "To pay a debt left to us by our fathers."

After her husband was decapitated in May of 1270, Ravenna returned to her father's house.  Her children were considered part of her husband's family and not hers, and they did not accompany her.  It seems doubtful that she ever saw them again.  The older child could not have been more than three at the time.

Simone promptly married her off again, this time to a wealthy banker named Bello Ferrantini (the Donati often married for money, being chronically short of that commodity).  To judge from his will, Bello was a generous and thoughtful man, providing well for his wife, his sister and her daughter, and many friends and relatives.

Unfortunately Bello's will had to be put into use fairly soon.  He died in 1277, leaving Ravenna with a son and two daughters.

Ravenna took the children and retired to a Dominican convent, San Iacopo at Ripoli.  Her brother Corso, his eye still on Bello's money, initiated a long and vitriolic dispute with the convent over the control of Ravenna's inheritance.

It isn't clear that Corso had any right to those funds, though he and his father Simone had been named among the children's guardians in Bello's will.  The legal imbroglio ended five years later with Corso and the convent splitting the money.

Meanwhile, Ravenna had at one point left the convent.  By this time her son, also named Simone, had died, and only the two girls, Mataleona and Margherita, were left.

It appears that the girls stayed in the convent, which probably suited Corso, who would have begrudged the money to dower them.  Their mother eventually joined them.  A historian describes her as "weak-willed," but her choices were limited.  ("Exasperated" comes to mind as a possibility.  It can't be fun to watch your abbess and your brother arm-wrestling over your children's future.)

Oddly, that was not Corso's only interaction with a convent concerning one of his sisters.  Another sister, Piccarda, had apparently made her vows and was living in the convent of Monticelli, when Corso forcibly removed her, so he could marry her to his ally Rossellino della Tosa.  She was wed against her wishes, and died soon afterwards.

Corso removing Piccarda from her convent

It was not a peacemaking marriage.  Rossellino was Corso's friend and ally - a friendship that survived the first eventual split in the Guelf party, though not the second.  By the time Rossellino and Corso were enemies, Piccarda had been dead for years.

Dante places Piccarda in the Paradiso, though at a relatively low level, because her vows (to become a nun) were in some respect unfulfilled, though not by her choice.  Dante causes Piccarda to proclaim her perfect happiness in her placement, because it is God's will, and she utters the famous phrase:  "E 'n la sua voluntade è la nostra pace:  ell' è quel mare al qual tutto si move ciò ch'ella cria o che natura face."  (And in his will is our peace:  he is that sea toward which all move that his will creates or Nature makes.)

Dante meets Piccarda in Paradise

One quick look back at Lapo, Ravenna's son by Azzolino.  Included in his grandfather's conviction for heresy in 1282, and condemned to die at the stake should he be taken in Florence, Lapo made his home elsewhere in Tuscany.  A poet, he later became friends with Dante during the great man's long exile from his troubled city.

And thus we end this series on peacemaking marriages, which seem to have resulted in very little peace.

May our own attachments fare better.


Images in this post are in the public domain by virtue of antiquity.

The Inlaws: Peacemaking Marriages III

For those who haven't followed the last two posts, you may wish to look back at the first post in this series, which gives a bit of historical context for the phenomenon of peacemaking marriages.  However, here are the basics of what you need to know:

We're following the marital lives of three 13th century couples in (or from) Florence, all of them examples of marriages contracted to make peace between warring factions - in this case, between Guelfs and Ghibellines.  We're exploring how this practice actually played out in people's lives (to the extent that we can find out, at a distance of nearly eight centuries).


The Second Couple

Beatrice di Farinata degli Uberti and Guido Cavalcanti were promised to one another in January 1267, part of a flurry of peacemaking marriages at a point in Florentine history when the Ghibellines had been in control of the city for six years, but were rapidly losing their grip on power after the death of Manfred, son of the late Emperor Frederick II, at the battle of Benevento in 1266.

Manfred

Frederick II

Beatrice, records tell us, was probably called Bice (rhymes with eBay, and with a "c" as in "cello").  She was the daughter of the late, great Ghibelline military and political leader, Farinata degli Uberti, who had died in Florence in 1264, in the midst of that last period in which Ghibellines controlled the city (which they did as a result of Farinata's victory at Montaperti in 1260).

We don't know how old Bice was in 1267.  There's reason to believe that her betrothed, Guido, was in his teens, and it is quite possible that she was still a child, and that they would not live together as husband and wife for some time yet.

However, I suspect she was old enough to wed, because within a matter of months the Ghibellines were to be ousted again - or rather, to oust themselves, fearful over the imminent arrival of Charles of Anjou to take over rule of the city (which Florentine officials had asked him to do).

Had Bice been merely betrothed, and too young to leave with her husband-to-be and his family, I'm guessing the marriage would not have taken place.  So I think one of two things must have happened:  Guido was young enough, and innocent enough of having personally provoked the Guelfs, that he managed to stay in Florence, and the two then wed.  Or they married, rather than simply pledging their betrothal, in January 1267, and she left with him.

Guido Cavalcanti was the son of a knight, messer Cavalcante de' Cavalcanti, a prominent Guelf.  Guido was also one of the greatest poets of his day.  His contemporary, chronicler Dino Compagni, describes him thus:  "He was courtly and bold, but scornful, solitary, and studious."

Guido (on tombstone) being scornful and solitary

 Giovanni Boccaccio, who was born thirteen years after Guido died, features Guido in the ninth story of the sixth day of his Decameron.  He calls the poet "one of the finest logicians in the world and an expert natural philosopher" and "an exceedingly charming and sophisticated man, with a marked gift for conversation, and his outshone all his contemporaries in every activity pertaining to a gentleman that he chose to undertake."  (These translations are by G.H. McWilliam, from the Penguin Classics edition of the Decameron.)

He also tried to kill Corso Donati with a spear once, but his aim was not as good as his poetry, and he missed.  Besides, he was convinced that Corso had tried to have him poisoned once while he was on pilgrimage to Santiago de Compostela.  Guido and Corso did not like each other very much.

Dante simply called Guido his "first friend."

Before we look at the marriage between the charming-but-scornful Guido and Bice the daughter of the great Ghibelline, let's have a look at their respective fathers.


Fathers

Farinata and Cavalcante

Dante has installed both men in the Inferno, damning them for heresy.  The Ghibelline Farinata and the Guelf Cavalcanti occupy open tombs next to each other, which they will never leave.  Virgil (Dante's guide) informs Dante that Farinata is a follower of Epicurus, the Greek who denied immortality, claiming that the soul dies with the body.  Hence the permanent tombs, for in a tidy example of "the punishment fits the crime," these souls will not be resurrected at the Last Judgment. 

(We will see other charges against Farinata later.)

Farinata was christened Manente degli Uberti; Farinata is a lifelong nickname derived from his fair hair, like golden wheat.  He led the Florentine Ghibellines from 1239 till his death in 1264.  His troops drove the Guelfs out in 1248 and defeated them at Montaperti in 1260.  We are told, by Dante and others, that when a council of triumphant Ghibellines wanted to raze Florence to the ground after Montaperti, Farinata alone opposed them and saved the city, saying that he didn't defeat his enemies to destroy his city, but to live in it.  For this act, Dante accords Farinata's shade much respect.  He calls the Ghibelline chief "magnanimo," which I've seen interpreted as "great-souled."

You get something of the measure of the man in these verses from the Inferno:

I had already fixed my eyes in his; and he was rising up with his breast and forehead as if he had Hell in great disdain.
...
When I stood at the foot of his tomb, he gazed at me a little, and then, as if scornful, asked me:  "Who were your forebears?"  (translation by Robert M. Durling)

Farinata

Ah, Farinata.  Ever-proud, ever-partisan, uncowed by Hell itself.

And Guido's father, the knight Cavalcante, who had died around 1280?  Dante suggests, by placing him in this particular part of the Inferno, that his friend's father is a denier of the Resurrection.

Were these men in fact heretics?  Both, Guelf and Ghibelline, could have pointed to known Cathars in their family histories, but we do not know if either man espoused this dualistic belief, which was at that time very much under fire from the church.  But before we follow this thought further, let's look back at Guido and Bice.


The couple

So did they live happily ever after?  We have no idea.  They did produce a son, Andrea, and probably also a daughter, Tancia, who eventually married Giacotto Mannelli, from a Ghibelline family.  But Bice did have to undergo what must have been a deeply disquieting experience, about sixteen years into her marriage (if we can assume she was still alive at that point - we don't really know).

The disturbing event for Bice occurred in 1283, when Florence's chief inquisitor, Fra Salamone di Lucca, convicted the late Farinata and his late wife Adeleta of following the Patarine (Cathar) heresy, on the grounds that they had accepted the Cathar "consolation" ritual on their deathbeds.

His verdict was that their bodies, interred in Santa Croce, be exhumed, burned, and the ashes deposited in or on unconsecrated ground.  This would all have been done publicly.  It cannot have been easy for a daughter to see this, or even to hear of it happening in her city.  Was Bice old enough when Farinata died to remember him?  Was Adeleta her mother, or perhaps a stepmother?  We don't know.

And was Farinata really a heretic?  Florentines at this time, with the Guelfs solidly in charge, tended to lump Catharism together with Ghibellinism, not without some cause.  And yet, as we've seen, the very Guelf Cavalcanti also had Catharism in their ranks.  Ironically, if Farinata was indeed a Cathar, he would not have particularly minded the removal of his remains from consecrated ground, as he would not have believed in bodily resurrection.

But it was to the Guelf city's advantage to make this Ghibelline-heretic connection, because every time they condemned a Ghibelline for heresy, they could confiscate all his goods and his properties - including those long since passed on to heirs.  Thus, all of Bice's brothers and their sons shared in their parents' condemnation to some extent, and their property was forfeit and they were banished from Florence.

Bice herself, and her dowry, probably remained untouched.  Both were in the good Guelf Guido's hands, and unlikely to be disturbed.  But that still means she had to witness not only her parents' exhumation and posthumous punishment, but the impoverishment and banishment of her male relatives.

Unless she came to Guido at such a young age that she had managed to forget all of her birth family, I cannot believe that Bice, at least, lived happily ever after.

As for Guido, his love poetry featured one Giovanna (affectionately nicknamed "Primavera," or "Springtime"), and, later, Mandetta.  But courtly (and even not-so-courtly) love affairs do not tell us whether he lived with his Ghibelline wife in harmony or not.

In short, we will never know. 


Next time:  Ravenna Donati and Azzolino di Farinata degli Uberti


Images in this post are in the public domain by virtue of their age.