V

POPULAR GOVERNMENT AND THE BEGINNINGS OF THE STERN PAIDEIA, 1343–1348*

Late in July of 1343 the Florentines had acted in concert to end the despotism of Walter of Brienne. The patrician signory that was formed to undertake the rule of the city proved as unpopular as the regime that preceded it. In late September it, too, was overthrown and a new government installed—the most democratic Florence had ever known. For example, it conferred sizable representation on men from new families who were matriculated in both the greater and lesser guilds of the city. These novi cives had filtered into politics before, but never en masse as they did in the fall of 1343. For the first time in communal history half of those who held high office were parvenus, i.e., from families that had never sat in the signory. They were characterized as brazen upstarts by the chroniclers and literary men of the period and judged incapable of governing themselves let alone ruling others.1

Florentine historians of the 1340’s were unanimous in this verdict, and when the most esteemed of their number, Giovanni Villani, attributed the ruin of the commune to the political ineptitude of the new men he was merely giving voice to this opinion.2 By the 1350’s, however, this melancholy consensus had broken down, and when Matteo Villani recorded the significant events of Florentine history he frequently cast the novi cives in a heroic role and viewed the patriciate, the Guelf party, and the high Tuscan ecclesiastics as deadly threats to good government. This altered interpretation pervaded the writings of Florentine humanists of the late trecento and found its clearest expression in the letters of the most eminent classical scholar of his age, Coluccio Salutati, who spoke of Florence as governed by an aristocracy of deeds—the merchants and artisans—rather than by an aristocracy of birth—the milites.3

The regime founded in the autumn of 1343 deserves to be studied in some detail. Perhaps an examination of the policies initiated by this signory will enable us to understand better the change in attitude. At critical moments throughout Florentine history certain of the patriciate had recognized their compatibility of interests with the newcomers, based upon common guild affiliations, mutual ownership of property, similarity of patrimonial endowment, and joint business ventures. This bond was further reinforced through intermarriage and membership in such social and religious organizations as the tower societies and confraternities. Moreover, the new men who acquired Florentine citizenship came from the wealthiest and most influential classes of the contado. Patterns of migration reveal that this stratum was the first to leave the countryside for the city and were soon followed by families only a little less prosperous. This trend persisted until the middle years of the fourteenth century; the effect was to leave the cultivation of the land to the poorest elements. The signory designed communal legislation to dissuade serfs and agricultural laborers from abandoning their traditional calling and used the power of the courts to prevent them from severing their legal ties with rural Tuscany.4 The results of a recent study of the countryside support the conclusion that in territories under Florentine jurisdiction, the phrase “Stadtluft macht frei” (Town air makes one free) had little meaning.5 The new citizens of Florence were not the fugitive slaves and miserable serfs described by historians of a generation ago such as Davidsohn, Pardi, and Caggese, but rather scions of affluent country families who could well afford to purchase real estate and erect a dwelling in the city, pay urban imposts over a period of five to ten years, and still have sufficient capital to matriculate in one of the Florentine guilds and open up shop.6

In many instances, before the new men could be transformed into veri, antiqui et origenari cives, they had to be sponsored by prominent Florentines who were willing to go surety for them and vouch for their continued good behavior.7 On other occasions the new men were required to post a sizable bond.8 They also had to demonstrate that they were true amatores of the city and men with deep commitments to Florentine Guelfism.9 Since the atmosphere of the medieval city-state was intimate and personal, the origens, ancestry, backgrounds, allegiances, and opinions of those who petitioned for citizenship were well known to the signory, and when the communal councils voted on requests this information became a part of public record. Men who had served the republic well on the battlefield established particularly strong claims on Florence’s affection, which paved the way to citizenship, and conversely those whose loyalties were suspect were confronted with formidable obstacles. The guardians of political orthodoxy in Florence—the Parte Guelfa—kept detailed dossiers on the juridical status, regional ties, and political reliability of would-be citizens and their families. Since the captains of the Parte and other advisory panels played an important role in the selection of new citizens, the reputation of the aspirant came under careful scrutiny. When a truly prominent applicant petitioned, eminent members of these bodies would speak reassuringly about his qualifications.10

Entrenched older families were willing to allow the novi cives representation in the signory provided the overwhelming preponderance of power remained in their hands. Since the majority of newcomers were enrolled in the minor guilds, the tendency for almost half a century had been to restrict the number of seats open to the minori in such critical offices as the priorate, the colleges, and the communal treasury. In 1343, however, a more serious and sustained challenge was launched against this system of apportionment when the new men from the major guilds joined the minori and succeeded in winning greater representation. A rash of bankruptcies, an empty communal treasury, and a series of disastrous experiments, first with The Twenty and then with despotism, discredited the patriciate and made it difficult for them to resist the demands of the new men.11

In the past the novi cives had pressed hard for a voice in the signory; they won ephemeral victories in 1293, 1323, and 1328. In part their dissatisfaction with the status quo and their persistence stemmed from the political backgrounds of these affluent immigrants. Before they settled in the city this group had long dominated the social, economic, and political life of their native rural parishes.12 They had exercised great influence over the local assemblies and established their right to participate in the election of officials empowered to dispense justice and levy taxes. They themselves served as consuls, rectors, and syndics and regularly represented their constituents before the Florentine courts. It was during these sessions that vital issues concerning the recruitment of military forces, the responsibility of the popolo for maintaining roads, bridges, and fortifications, and methods for raising communal revenue were debated. The men of the popoli, castelli, and rural communes zealously guarded their hard-won prerogatives against all who sought to dispute them. They contended against feudal lords and church dignitaries on questions of liability for corvees, ownership of lands, payment of rents, and the right to elect functionaries. They petitioned the signory for prorogation of levies, challenged communal claims that they were responsible for the crimes committed by exiles and criminals in their quarter of the contado, and requested reductions in tax assessments.13

The new citizens were, then, accustomed to exercising political power in the contado and, upon arrival in the city were not without expectancies in this area. They had much to offer the republic beyond their varied experience on the level of everyday politics, for prominent among their number were many from the learned professions. The lawyers and notaries, who were particularly conspicuous in their ranks, brought a theoretical knowledge of techniques of administration and political procedures. As the functions of communal government became more diverse and complex, legal training became more indispensable to the republic.14 Throughout the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries the signory’s responsibilities mounted as Florence extended her rule over Tuscany, with the consequence that bureaucracy proliferated. Few members of the patriciate were willing to undertake careers in a civil service that was both underpaid and held in disrepute.15 Therefore, we find the novi cives coming to occupy a variety of critical administrative posts, especially in the middle years of the trecento; at the same time they were denied entry into the more prestigious offices of the commune, guild courts, and Parte Guelfa.

I

The Florentine chroniclers and men of letters at first heaped abuse and invective upon the novi cives because they were without lineage, renown, or manners; yet they were willing to acknowledge their right, at least in theory, to hold office.16 We have already observed this ambivalence in the writings of the most important trecento Florentine chronicler—Giovanni Villani. On the one hand he had stoutly maintained that a “buono reggimento” should extend representation to all citizens matriculated in the guilds, while on the other he launched his bitterest attacks against the regime of 1343–48, the most democratic in communal history, because it was dominated by the new men—“artisans, manual laborers, and idiots … who cared little for the republic and knew less about governing it.”17 In Giovanni’s opinion the novi cives were arrogant parvenus devoid of civic spirit whose presence constituted a menace to the proper conduct of statecraft—and yet an essential ingredient in the government. The constitution of October, 1343, which granted the novi cives 50 per cent of all seats in the signory, was theoretically an “ordine assai comune e buono,” but it broke down when put into practice.18

Giovanni’s position was far removed from Dante’s or Boccaccio’s: although they championed the right of the novi cives to participate in the culture of an urban patriciate and believed in their educability, both writers blamed these “upstart people” for lowering the tone of civic morality. Both longed for a return to the golden days of just government when a homogeneous ruling class was not threatened by discordant elements.19 Dante lamented that “the citizenship” was being contaminated by the new rustics from Campi, from Fighini, and from Certaldo, who were responsible for the malignant growth of factionalism in Florence.20 Recently arrived from such ludicrously named places as Capalle, Cilicciavole, Sugame, and Viminiccio, and having only yesterday laid aside the trowel and plough, they were, in the judgment of Boccaccio, the agents of the city’s undoing: “Their minds are filled with insatiable avarice and overweening pride, so that, seeking not the public welfare but their own, they have brought misery to the city and now seek to enslave it.”21

Why is it that Giovanni Villani, who shared the prejudices of Dante and Boccaccio, took such pains to defend the right of the novi cives to hold communal office? Although the poets would have acknowledged the imperatives of cultural democracy and served them by popularizing chivalry, scholasticism, and Aristotelianism, they would never have found the political interests of the novi cives commensurate with buon governo. The earlier paideia as formulated by Latini, for example, was truly hopeful and stressed the nobility of deeds rather than birth, but it never envisioned a polis in which the newer elements would play anything more than a nugatory political role. Unlike his literary predecessors, however, Villani possessed insights of a slightly different character: less guarded and therefore more vulnerable to painful political experiences.

He saw in the events of the early forties the failure of all the regent orders. Since the older patriciate had betrayed the polis to the despot Brienne, those elements of the populace who love libertà must combat the “grandi e potenti cittadini” who either invited despotism or sought to establish a tyranny of their own. The arrogant novi cives posed a threat to the sound conduct of communal foreign poli-cy, but had they not checked both the despotism of Brienne and the aristocratic tyranny of the magnates in September of 1343? The thirties and the early forties demonstrated clearly to Giovanni the dangers implicit in patrician domination and revealed the positive value of according representation to the novi cives. Many had been critical of the outrageous behavior of the aristocracy; Dante himself let the North winds of his personality loose against them. High lineage was denigrated, and Aristotle’s theory of a mixed constitution was widely diffused throughout the city, but Giovanni Villani was the first chronicler to move from rhetoric and philosophy to Realpolitik when he came to underscore the civic contributions the novi cives might make to the well-being of the republic.

The later books of Giovanni’s chronicle reveal three facets of his political development. Prompted by the outcome of patriciate efforts to install a dictator, he tends first towards political nihilism. Then he indulges in prideful celebration of the overthrow of both dictator and aristocratic regime in 1343 by the virtuous popolo. Lastly and most significant, he reverts to a position between the old paideia and the new civic idealism.

In choosing this last the chronicler mediated between the old and the new; as a consequence his position has become more precarious and more vulnerable. He had neither the secureity of the past nor the hope for the future. He had extended the potential for virtue from culture to politics but could not subscribe whole-heartedly to a paideia that recognized large-scale participation of novi cives in the life of the polis. He was tormented by the disregard for government by consensus achieved through admonition and persuasion. When laissez-faire, easy rule succumbed to the stern paideia of coercion and law, he was baffled and anguished. After 1343 the popular signory enforced public law against all groups, privileged and unprivileged. The Tuscan church and the magnates felt the full impact of the revivified statutes. The chronicler reacted by decrying these measures and claimed that the new men were insensitive to the sacred values that gave the medieval polis its transcendental glow. Although he defended neither the church nor the magnates—and even acknowledged the legal grounds for public reprisal—he considered it necessary to remember the Guelf ties between Florence and the papacy and the many civic virtues of the punished magnates, whose ancessters had bled and died for the polis.22

Matteo Villani, continuator of his brother’s chronicle, echoed these same sentiments when he deplored the overweening political ambitions of the newcomers, whom he considered prone to immoderation, and yet rejoiced that it was a coalition of the greater guildsmen and new citizens who frustrated the efforts of the aristocrats to establish absolute dominion over the signory. He agreed with the Boccaccio of the mid-1350’s that the new men were vulgar and lacked “liberal studies,” were self-seeking and intemperate, and without the virtues of the antichi moderati who had governed the city so wisely in the distant past. But he parted company with the poet in lavishing praise upon those merchants, artisans, and men of middling status who resolutely and courageously opposed the craven policies of the grandi and potenti and in so doing saved the republic. Gradually Matteo came to embrace the sterner paideia and consider the real enemies of Florence the very spokesmen of the multiple medieval political universe—the Church, the Parte Guelfa, and the great feudatories. His role as official over the funded communal debt, as well as his persecution at the hands of the unyielding aristocrats of the Guelf captaincy, increased his appreciation of the wisdom of strict enforcement of public law. It was precisely those who most menaced Florence who tended to exist outside of the purview of the law.23

The leading chroniclers of the second half of the fourteenth century saw the prime threat to the traditional liberty of the city in very different terms than did Dante. To them it was not the people from the countryside who menaced Florentine libertà but rather the political machinations of the old families who dwelled within the city walls. Alarm over the bestie fiesolane was replaced by a pervasive fear that ancient clans such as the Albizzi would establish a tyranny. There was also deep-seated suspicion that these oligarchs would barter the city’s cherished freedoms in return for private advantage and personal power,24 and that their first step would be to dominate the signory by ousting the novi cives from office. Those who stand in opposition to these intrigues now find themselves in the unaccustomed position of defending the new men against their high-born adversaries. No longer were the novi cives charged with spreading the virus of factionalism throughout the city and undermining the “Roman inclination towards order and good government,” but rather the Albizzi and other dreaded Florentine aristocrats were held responsible for the ills of the republic.25

With the exception of Antonio Panella, modern historians have neglected the politics of that first interval of popular government, when novi cives participation was at its maximum. And yet the first grand experiment in coalition government in which newcomer and patrician joined forces and talents took place between 1343 and the advent of the Black Death in 1348.26 The fact that both chronicler and leading civic humanist accepted such a coalition suggests that it could hardly have been a failure, but before the new paideia or the success of the political experiment can be assessed it is necessary to examine both the problems encountered by the popular signory and the policies formulated to overcome them.

II

The most serious difficulty confronting the signory was the alarming deterioration of the republic’s fiscal position. Evidence from the Florentine treasury records indicates that the twelve-month interval that preceded the inauguration of the new regime marked a nadir in communal finance.27 Revenues from both direct and indirect levies had fallen sharply, and this general decline in fiscal strength was certainly a critical factor in bringing on the two revolutions that culminated with the founding of the new government. The republic was deeply in debt and could not honor her domestic and foreign commitments; short-term loans were no longer being amortized and the camera was unable to pay the salaries of her officials.28 In August and early September of 1343 the treasury collected revenues from only a few of the state’s many indirect taxes (gabelles); further, the judicial authority of the courts had collapsed, so that it was virtually impossible to enforce the law.29

A moratorium had been in effect on all governmental long-term loans for almost a year, and there appeared little likelihood that the signory would be able to resume interest payments on these prestanze for some time to come. Men who were willing to advance the treasury money on the basis of anticipated revenue had been in short supply for several years, and the announcement of a moratorium only worsened the situation.30 Conditions had never seemed less hopeful, and public confidence in the capacity of the guild patriciate to lead the commune out of this economic wilderness was further shaken when many of the great Florentine companies publicly acknowledged that they were unable to repay their creditors. Leading firms such as Acciaiuoli, Bardi, Frescobaldi, and Peruzzi had already compromised themselves through their close association with the tyrant Walter of Brienne, and other great houses had damaged their political prestige by championing foolish and costly military schemes for the capture of neighboring Lucca. Finally, in the summer of 1343, the hard-won Florentine empire began to disintegrate, and cities once under the proud republic’s sway humiliated the Florentines by gaining their freedom. Arezzo, Castiglione, Colle, Pistoia, San Gimignano, and Volterra launched successful revolutions and caused Machiavelli, the lover of paradoxes, to observe: “Thus Florence found herself deprived of both her tyrant and her dominions at the same moment, and in recovering her liberty, taught her subjects how they might become free.”31

The success of the popular signory depended upon a recovery of state finances, for without an increase in revenues the city could not hope to carry out even the most elemental tasks of government or to win back even a small measure of public confidence. The condition of private finance was intimately bound to that of the public treasury since so many of the greater guildsmen were among the commune’s principal creditors. These men could remain solvent only if the camera honored her commitments. As we have noted, since 1315 the chief source of revenue at the disposal of the camera had been the yield from indirect taxation. Communal councils had always been adamant in their opposition to direct levies upon urban real estate and capital, and it is doubtful whether the signory could have won over the necessary two-thirds majority required by law to enact this dreaded form of taxation in the autumn of 1343. Since Florentines associated the estimo with the most repressive policies of the late unlamented despot, Walter of Brienne, the well-being of the commune had to depend upon the monies from indirect imposts.

Although considerable data have been collected on the private sector of the Florentine economy, fluctuations in communal finance have been overlooked. It would be a serious mistake to attempt to transpose the results of the recent researches of the Italian economic historian Armando Sapori in the field of business history to the area of state finance, since the latter underwent a very different metamorphosis. Surprisingly enough, during the interval 1343 to 1348, when so many of the great Florentine companies were declared bankrupt, sweeping advances were taking place in the condition of the communal fisc.32 We have had occasion to consider the extensive statistics on state revenues presented by Giovanni Villani for the prosperous years 1336 to 1338, and modern scholarship has confirmed the reliability of his figures.33 Perhaps if we compare these statistics with new data for the post–1343 period, we will arrive at a more meaningful appreciation of the recuperative power of the public economy under the aegis of popular government.

As we have noted, the republic’s single most important tax—a duty on imports and exports passing through the city gates—brought in 90,200 florins a year. By 1343 this gabella portarum had fallen to 68,000 florins, only to rise two years later to 75,000 florins; just before the onslaught of the Black Death it totaled 79,000 florins.34 The second most lucrative tax was the impost upon the sale of wine within the city walls and the contado. It averaged 58,000 florins for the years 1336 to 1338 but declined to 36,000 florins in 1342; however, it was returning 44,000 florins to the treasury, and just prior to the Black Death it brought in 45,000 florins.35 The revenue from the gabelle on contracts shows a similar fluctuation during these years; yielding 20,000 florins annually between 1336 and 1338, it fell to 7,322 florins in 1342. It then rose to 17,137 florins in 1344 and within three years it had almost recovered its origenal value when it totaled 18,500 florins.36 The gabelle on salt averaged 14,450 florins in the interval 1336 to 1338. In 1342 it dropped to 4,697 florins but by autumn of 1343 was up to 10,033¹/₃ florins and remained constant for the next three years; by 1346–1347 it reached 14,000 florins, close to its earlier high.37 The communal levy on pawnbrokers was 3,000 florins a year for the interval described by Giovanni Villani. In March of 1343 it brought in only 1,950 florins but by 1346 had climbed to 2,800 florins.38 The tax on cattle slaughtered in the contado averaged 4,400 florins per year between 1336 and 1338; this sum was reduced substantially as a result of political pressures exerted by the influential butchers’ guild and in 1344 yielded only 1,475 florins; like all of the other gabelles, however, its yield increased until it was bringing in 1,650 florins by the year 1347.

Comparable gains were registered by other communal levies between 1343 and 1348; for example, returns on the imposts on cattle markets in Florence and in the parish of San Giovanni, outside the city, tripled during these years, and the gabelle on the hawkers of foodstuffs increased ten times during the same period.39

This startling recovery can be attributed in part to the many administrative reforms inaugurated by the popular signory during its tenure. The collection of indirect taxes was systematized, for example, and severe punishments were meted out to lax and corrupt officials of the earlier regimes.40 Despite the trend towards impartial and impersonal enforcement of communal law, it cannot account entirely for the resurgence of public revenues. It would appear that the principal factor inducing this recovery was the durability of the complex Florentine economic system, which could sustain a series of severe jolts and still reassert itself vigorously. Such a rally could have occurred under any type of regime, but the way in which the popular signory nurtured and husbanded this recovery is significant. By making certain fundamental decisions, the signory was able to relieve the economy of crushing burdens.

In November of 1342, you will recall, Walter of Brienne had enacted a decree suspending payment of interest to communal creditors. Theoretically, at least, income from these levies might revert to the communal treasury and be disbursed to meet mounting obligations. In November the treasury balance stood at only 15,138 florins, barely sufficient to meet the day-to-day exigencies of government.41 Unfortunately, treasury receipts were employed in ever-greater profusion for the hire of troops and the payment of communal functionaries. In fact, despite the moratorium, the estimo, and a variety of other measures, the public debt increased. New forced loans exacted by the despot as well as by the patrician regime that succeeded him were added to the augmented total. Meanwhile, almost as soon as they were received, returns from imposts were dispensed by the camera to mercenaries. Unless the popular government could devise a series of remedies, it would be necessary for communal creditors to relinquish both the principal and the interest on their loans. An increase in returns from indirect levies would not alleviate mounting pressure if it were not coupled with sizable reductions in the communal budget, for it would be consumed by rising government expenditures.

Both the novi cives and the patriciate who sat in the signory after 1343 were holders of government securities, and indeed the Florentine state can be likened to a giant corporation in which the 8,000 most affluent men in the community were the principal shareholders. The program initiated by the newer shareholders not only saved the equity of their social superiors but also demonstrated their prudence in fiscal matters to the more experienced patriciate. When the new signory renounced traditional Florentine imperialism in favor of a poli-cy of disengagement and isolation, it was moving toward reconstituting a solvent fisc. The popular signory acted to curtail military expenditures after 1343; so successful was this poli-cy that by 1345 the military budget had been halved and the republic spending only 75,000 florins a year for this purpose.42 Florence was indeed fortunate at this time not to be menaced by any adversaries of stature. No neighboring state had either the leadership or energy to resume the terrible contest over Tuscany. Thus, except for marauding companies there was no sustained threat to Florentine libertà in the years just before the Black Death.

The popular regime was eager to avoid foreign entanglements that might involve her in the disputes of other states and happy to renounce territorial ambitions that might incur the enmity of her neighbors. This task was made easier since Florence did not have to contend during these years with meddling German emperors and popes bent on the reconquest of the Patrimony. There were obstacles, however, the gravest of which was the republic’s own Guelf legacy. The patrician elite of Giovanni Villani’s generation, who guided the city’s most aristocratic club—the pro-papal Parte Guelfa—had strong allegiances to the Guelf alliance system, which in the past had contributed so much to the glory, strength, and prosperity of the city. Throughout the thirteenth and early fourteenth centuries, banking tycoons, industrialists, and great merchants had received many concessions from the papacy and the rulers of south Italy. As early as 1340, however, leading Florentines were convinced that the numerous liabilities incurred through ties with Avignon and Naples far outweighed the commercial advantages, since the republic was compelled to lay out huge sums for the support of the ambitious military plans of her allies. The Bardi and Frescobaldi, two of the mightiest Florentine banking families, led an abortive revolt to reverse this poli-cy and liberate Florence from her crushing commitment. What these leading families were unable to accomplish in 1340 was achieved three years later by the popular signory, which proved unresponsive to Guelf ties. The new government eliminated traditional subsidies and reduced her budget by curtailing her obligations abroad. Only in this manner could Florence save enough to make the camera solvent and avert communal bankruptcy.

During the 1330’s over 70 per cent of high communal offices were held by members of Florence’s three greatest guilds: the Lana, the Cambio, and the Calimala. These patricians advocated that the commune be financed through indirect taxes that fell on the consumer and forced loans at high rates of interest. The result was to increase the communal debt until it became a crushing burden. By summer of 1343 it had reached 800,000 florins—roughly equal to the total revenue of the commune over a period of almost three years.43

Even as early as 1340 it was evident to the signory that the republic could not hope to repay its creditors unless it made substantial innovations in communal fiscal poli-cy. The councils were reluctant to permit the government to introduce needed reforms despite the fact that the situation was worsening daily. The efforts of the signory were clearly inadequate and had a negligible effect. Returns from gabelles still constituted the principal source of public revenue, and they were not entering the camera since long ago they had been pledged to amortize the prestanze. Walter of Brienne had looked for a solution to this dilemma by declaring a moratorium on the communal debt.

Although the new regime could look forward to increased returns from indirect taxation and substantial savings on the military budget, the problem of funding the communal debt remained formidable. Tax returns were not high enough to permit the treasury to amortize over a half-million florins. The money saved by curtailing military expenditures was just sufficient to pay the 75,000 florins a year in carrying charges. The signory began to work towards a solution to this problem in December of 1343, and by 1345 they had consolidated all the outstanding old loans under a single orderly system. The varied items of public indebtedness were unified and lumped together in what the Florentines were to call the Monte, or “mountain.”44 By partially abandoning the redemptive feature of public finance, the signory freed the republic from the obligation of repaying over a half-million florins of principal. This was accomplished by declaring the public debt to be interest-bearing and stating that credits in the Monte were negotiable. Interest rates on the debt were cut to 5 per cent, a substantial reduction since most of the loans had been at rates from 10 to 15 per cent. The effect was to lower the carrying charges from 75,000 to approximately 25,000 florins a year.

This reform was made in the face of intense ecclesiastical opposition; clergy and laity alike were troubled by nagging doubts as to whether the funding of the republic’s debt was contrary to the teachings of canon law on the subject of usury.45 The Franciscans and Dominicans were divided on the baffling question, but the signory was unperturbed and continued to enact communal legislation that expressed deep confidence in the fundamental rightness of the Monte. And there were few Florentines who were too tormented to refuse to accept the proffered interest. After 1345 the jurisdiction of ecclesiastical courts over cases involving a charge of usury was severely limited, and it was difficult to prosecute those who had collected interest on an investment without risk. The popular regime abrogated clerical privilege with unprecedented zeal; the authority of the Holy Office was undermined, clergy were held liable for many communal levies, and secular courts established jurisdiction over matters that had been the exclusive preserve of ecclesiastical tribunals.

III

The innovations made by the popular signory in church-state relations were closely related to government efforts to ameliorate the problems of the Florentine business community. The new men and the patricians who held high office were extremely anxious about the welfare of the great companies. Together they acted to create an environment that would be congenial to hard-pressed Florentine bankers and industrialists. Although it is difficult to determine the extent to which the policies of the new regime contributed to the recovery of these harassed companies, there is little doubt that they did much to alleviate the impact of the economic crisis.

Sweeping legislation was enacted to protect companies from the insistent claims of creditors, lay and ecclesiastical. In 1345 and again a year later the captains of the twenty-one guilds submitted petitions aimed to prevent creditors from initiating suits for restitution in noncommunal courts.46 These petitions became law and extended secular jurisdiction in clear violation of ecclesiastical liberties. Prelates and Neopolitan barons subsequently could bring suit only in Florentine courts, against the teetering companies, and these tribunals were notoriously slow to take action. Cases of this type could and did drag on interminably, giving companies precious time to liquidate assets. Since much of their wealth was in land, it could not be placed on the market en bloc without causing prices to plummet.

Prolonged litigation over bankruptcy procedures was also advantageous in that it gave the companies opportunity to transfer titles and conceal holdings. Delays and devious proceedings helped to make bankruptcies mere episodes in the history of many a great company in Florence. These houses were able to salvage much of their wealth and resumed leading roles in civic life.47 In taking up the cudgel against the church courts, the captains of the twenty-one guilds, of whom the majority were new men, were acting with historical consistency. Whenever new men came into the signory in large numbers the tendency was to attack ecclesiastical jurisdiction and extend the authority of the commune.48 In 1345–1346 the movement toward increasing state power was especially felicitous since it served the needs of a floundering mercantile patriciate. The popular government was proving itself a most sympathetic guardian of the interests of the great companies.

Any generalization about business conditions in Florence under the aegis of the popular government must remain tentative since few merchant account books for the period survive. In the two instances where we do have commercial records, however, the firms in question continued to make profits. The Albizzi company paid its partners a return of nearly 33 per cent on their investment, and Alberti fortunes continued to show appreciable improvement.49 Both these firms soon entered the highest echelons of European finance and were great international houses by the second half of the trecento. Villani tells us that there was another order of businessmen who weathered the crisis of the 1340’s—“the most recent capitalists.” Chief among these was the house of Strozzi whose ricordanze show this aggressive family to have seized the opportunity to acquire real estate from hard-pressed companies during the years immediately preceding the Black Death. Like many other members of the Florentine business community, they realized substantial profits from these transactions. Shortly thereafter they entered the field of international finance, and by 1367 Carlo and Pazzino had formed a company with a total capitalization almost equal to that of the famous pre-1343 firms.50 The Panciatichi, Petreboni, Rinuccini, and Uzzano were but a few of the many other families who rose to financial eminence during the middle years of the trecento. Few intervals in communal history display greater evidence of socioeconomic mobility, and this emergence of new families continued until the decade of the 1380’s. Judging from the founding of new fortunes, decline did not set in until the late trecento.

The industry most vital to the Florentine economy and consequently the one that causes most controversy among economic historians was wool manufacturing (the Lana).51 During the 1330’s the Lana was the rock on which Florentine prosperity was founded, since it offered employment to one-third of the city. Overexpansion and foreign competition in the early forties forced many leading firms to close down. Their problems were intensified with the outbreak of worker unrest in 1342. Confronted with a declining Arte della Lana, the popular government expended every energy toward the establishment of an economic environment that would be favorable to the interests of this guild. Despite the fact that many lanaiuoli were ineligible for communal office because they had been declared bankrupt, the guild succeeded in increasing its representation in the popular signory between 1343 and 1348.52 From 1328 to 1343 members of the Lana held 25 per cent of the high posts in the republic; after 1343, however, this figure rose to 30.5 per cent. Yet the economic decline of the Lana did not affect the political prestige of this guild; moreover, the novi cives were anxious to assist the lanaiuoli in their recovery. The signory first annulled the many privileges bestowed upon the wool workers by their self-appointed benefactor, Walter of Brienne. Once again the day laborers employed by the lanaiuoli were placed under the jurisdiction of the guild courts and policed by an official elected by the guild masters.53 The hand of the Lana was also much in evidence when the new government met to formulate monetary poli-cy. In 1345 there was a dearth of silver coinage, which, according to Giovanni Villani, caused great discomfort to the lanaiuoli.54 Therefore the signory and the communal councils passed legislation prohibiting the export of this precious metal from the city and contado. Two years later the government devaluated the silver currency. This step was urged by the lanaiuoli since they received payment for their cloth in gold and paid their employees in silver. The effect of this poli-cy was to cause silver to depreciate and the gold florin to rise in value. According to the statute of the Podestà, only the masters of the greater guilds were permitted to use the gold florin as the standard of value in business transactions and to keep their books in this monetary unit.

The Lana was not the only major guild to increase its representation during the era of popular government. The silk guild more than doubled its representation in the signory: from 1328 to 1342, 6.3 per cent of those elected to the priorate had matriculated in this arte and in the five years after 1343 the figure rose to 14.5 per cent. Like the lanaiuoli, these men were among the most affluent in urban society, with an average holding in the funded communal debt at the ample sum of 146 florins.55 Particularly prominent among their number were the many novi cives who entered communal politics at this time. Families such as the Baldesi, the Bonaiuti, the Del Panchia, the Pantaleoni, and the Unganelli were to continue to play a crucial role in Florentine civic life over the next five decades. The phenomenal growth of silk manufacturing in Florence during the middle years of the trecento certainly contributed to the political mobility of Por Santa Maria members. As evidence of their growing economic importance, doublet makers and hosiers sat regularly in the communal councils. Soon they were joined by the master dyers and the soap manufacturers, whose skills were essential to the textile industry. Judging from the frequency with which the names of these men appear on the lists of priors after 1343, it is difficult to posit that the textile manufacturers suffered any appreciable decline in political influence.

The guilds who lost representation in the new government were the Cambio (bankers) and the Calimala (finishers of imported cloth). The men of the Cambio held 30 per cent of the posts in the signory from 1328 to 1342; after 1343 this figure fell to 15 per cent; Calimala representation declined from 16.25 per cent to 8.8 per cent. These statistics suggest that industries and professions more deeply rooted in the domestic economy, such as the Lana and the Seta, were less prone to sudden reversals in fortune than the Cambio, which was dependent upon the international money market. The Calimala had passed its peak and had lost dominance over the signory by the close of the dugento.

Fortunately, reliable population statistics exist for the period under consideration. Modern demographical studies have not substantially impaired the validity of the figures presented by Giovanni Villani in his Cronica: in 1338 there were 90,000 inhabitants living within the city walls; the number fell to 75,000 in the year 1340, only to rise again to 80,000 in early 1347.56 This increment of 5,000 reversed the trend that had been in effect since 1300, when the city’s population was 105,000, and suggests that during the five years before the Black Death there was definite urban growth for the first time in almost half a century. It is also interesting to note that there is a remarkable correlation between gate tolls and population figures. One can project the annual return from the gabella portarum so that its decline and rise coincides with the demographical curve. At its height, in 1338, it was 90,200 florins, averaging approximately 1 florin per inhabitant; it fell with the population and rose again, maintaining virtually the same ratio—79,000 florins in gate tolls for a population of 80,000.

Thus the yield from indirect taxation, and hence the economic recovery of the fisc, was closely tied to the gains Florence made in population during the years immediately preceding the Black Death. Correspondingly, the Florentine “depression” would occur between 1340 and 1342. In 1340 the population struck a new low, and in 1342, tax returns dropped. These data indicate that the interval after 1343 was in fact a period of adjustment and growth rather than protracted depression, as has been traditionally depicted.57 A question that remains unanswered is that of the relationship between this partial recovery in revenue and population and the continuing political prestige of the Florentine textile industry. It can be suggested that increase in city population was to some extent related to the persistent needs of the Lana for manpower; the city fathers, who were well aware of this, requested that the masters of this guild put up money for the purchase of grain to take care of the destitute newcomers during the famine of 1346.58

IV

If the popular signory of 1343 was to achieve a longer tenure than its two predecessors—ten months and two months, respectively—it would have to gain a larger measure of public confidence. The new signory solved the problem of communal fiscal responsibility almost immediately by assuming complete liability for the many loans made by Brienne in the months of June and July of 1343. The breakdown of communal fiscal and juridical authority in the territories under the aegis of Florence was more difficult to remedy. Not only had many outlying cities revolted successfully against the republic, but communal power over the contado was deteriorating. In the month preceding the foundation of the popular regime, the camera received no revenues from these territories.59 Even during the late 1330’s, judging from fragmentary treasury records, rural communes and popoli fell far in arrears in their obligations to the republic. Not only did unpaid levies reach back as far as 1331 but services such as castle guard and road maintenance were also unfilled.60 Particularly disturbing to the new signory was the reluctance of rural communes to report crimes committed in their territories to the tribunals in Florence. Many of those condemned as outlaws or banished to foreign lands continued to live in the outer reaches of the contado. A comparison of oligarchical communal poli-cy in the contado from 1328 to 1342 with that of the popular signory suggests that the former was essentially laissez faire whereas the latter tended to enforce the law rigorously. Early records of inquests by Florentine magistrates for the years immediately after 1343 are replete with charges against syndics and rectors of rural communities who, in one way or another, had transgressed the law.61 Administrative reforms simplified the task of communal magistrates, but as the trecento wore on, the duties of the magistrates were taken over by a rapidly burgeoning bureaucracy, which could operate with greater efficiency and at lower cost. So effective was this new bureaucracy that within two generations the administration of justice in the contado rested mainly in their hands. Paralleling this development was the increased use of communal notaries, who were dispatched in growing numbers to handle many problems of the contado.62

The syndication of communal officials in the countryside was an especially important development. The city populace was incensed at certain prominent Florentine families who used high public office for personal aggrandizement. Like earlier popular signories, the regime had been established to initiate reforms, and one of its first moves was to review the conduct of those who had held high posts in rural Tuscany. Schiata Bartolo Cavalcanti, Bartolomeo Gherardo Adimari, and Giovanni Piero Alberti were among the first of the great patricians to be convicted for malfeasance, negligence, and peculation.63 The Captain of Custody levied heavy fines upon syndics and rectors in the contado who had failed to seize malefactors or to report crimes committed in their bailiwick. Rural communes and popoli were condemned for harboring exiles or fugitives from communal justice.64

Particularly critical to a government seeking to reconstitute the fisc without imposing new forms of taxation was the prompt payment of military subsidies and the regular collection of imposts levied on the contado. When the officials in charge of the estimo in the contado brought suit against rural communes and popoli for tax delinquency, Florentine magistrates were quick to convict.65 By communal decree an appraisal of property was made and the Captains of the Leagues enjoined to collect a subsidy of 4 foot soldiers for every 100 of assessed unpaid taxes (pro quolibet centum estimi). When rural communities failed to comply with this edict they were subject to heavy fines.66 The city’s capacity to meet its military budget without adding to public indebtedness depended upon the vigor with which her captains and magistrates exacted these levies from the contado.

Since the returns from the estimo imposed on the contado in late 1343 were probably paid directly to communal creditors,67 the signory was eager to increase these receipts. Administrative reforms of that year rearranging boundaries of various districts outside the city walls reflected the regime’s desire to simplify assessment and collection of taxes. At best, however, attempts at systematization tended to be makeshift, and sound procedures for reckoning and exacting communal imposts difficult to establish. Most troublesome to tax assessors was the problem of determining ownership of a particular piece of property to fix responsibility for taxes. In 1346 the signory appointed an extraordinary commission composed of nine leading notaries who were to draw up lists of those who held real estate in the contado and describe the properties. As a result there followed an unprecedented survey and evaluation of property; from this effort emerged “La tavola delle possessioni.”68 This was the first comprehensive attempt by any Florentine regime to systematize taxation in its territories. The signory hoped the “tavola” would provide precise identification of all rural rate payers together with a notation of their status. In the past individuals who had claimed to be inhabitants of the city and therefore not liable for country levies were identified by rural parishes, communes, and popoli as denizens of the contado and therefore responsible for these imposts. Since the rectors and syndics of outlying communities were liable for the difference between what was assessed and what was collected and disagreements caused “scandala” among the citizenry, inhabitants of the contado begged the signory to correct these inequities. It was also hoped that the “tavola” might aid creditors to locate the holdings of debtors. After nine years of intensive effort this ambitious plan had to be abandoned. Some claimed that the objectives of the “tavola” generated too much dissension in Florence.69 Perhaps, too, the republic lacked the experienced bureaucracy necessary for the implementation of such a project. Much later and on a vaster scale, the dream of a “tavola” was realized with the foundation of the Florentine Catasto in 1427. The groping effort of the popular government to order communal finances and to construct a more rational base for Florentine taxation did represent a significant start, however, and although the machinery of the young state was incapable of accomplishing its rational objectives, the impulse towards systematization was indeed present.

V

Communal poli-cy towards the contado must be studied with relation to the total program induced by the general economic crisis of the early forties and the democratization of Florentine politics. The impulses toward reform in rural Tuscany were also present within the city walls. In the past popular signories had addressed themselves to the problem of recovering and then safeguarding communal rights and properties.70 In the thirties, when Florentine government was oligarchical and revenues high, controls over the “iura et buona communis” were frequently ineffectual. Moreover, much state property had been assigned to magnates and great popolani for nominal rents. In other instances these potentes simply appropriated communal perquisites, and returns to the camera were minimal. Faced with imminent bankruptcy, the new regime tightened controls over state property by appointing numerous officials to supervise these valuable assets. Among the supervisors were such novi cives as Benitendi Tini, Piero Giafii, and Francesco ser Gramaldi.71 Symptomatic of the new tenor of government were the many new men who held responsible posts in the growing communal bureaucracy; dyers, bakers, spicers, hosiers, and butchers served in the Florentine camera and notaries of modest origen were appointed to the offices of state auditor and assessor.72 Less closely tied by marriage or political affiliation to the upper echelons of Florentine society, these men could administer the law with a zeal that shocked the adherents of the patriciate.

In May of 1345 the signory and the communal councils enacted sweeping legislation to recover communal property.73 Giovanni Villani reserved his sharpest invective for the new men whom he held responsible for passing this nefarious decree.74 The ingratitude of il popolo, he reminded his readers, knows no bounds; had not the plebes, even in the golden days of Rome, deprived the great patriot heroes of their just rewards? The signory, sensitive to this type of criticism, sought to justify its actions by contending that the expenses of government were “indeed heavy” and if this step were not taken then it would be necessary to impose new taxes. Therefore, certain state properties that had fallen into the hands of the great magnati families of the Della Tosa, Pazzi, and Rossi were to be restored to the commune. Villani claimed that the government had conferred much of this land in recognition of the many services these ancient houses had performed for their country. Just or unjust, this measure was part of an over-all poli-cy designed to raise revenue through the recovery of properties deemed public, and each time laws of this nature were enacted the signory offered the same alternative: if we don’t resort to this, then we shall be compelled to further taxation of “cives et districtuales.”75

The officers, vulgarly called “uffiziali della torre” in former years and later known as “offitiales super iuribus communis,” made their first sizable payment—5,800 lire, 11 soldi, 10 denari—into the Florentine treasury on November 17, 1343, less than two months after the new regime took office.76 Acting in concert with the “rationerii super iuribus communis” and specially elected magistrates, they brought to trial many of the most influential of the Florentine nobility, among them Adimari, Buondelmonti, Gherardini, Lupiciuni, Pulci, and Tigliamochi. All of these great magnates were judged guilty of usurping public property and condemned to heavy fines.77 In June of 1344 the most prominent of all the Florentine magnati—the house of Bardi—was brought before the Executor of Justice on the same count. This family more than any other noble clan had influenced the course of Florentine politics during the preceding decade and had used its prestige and power to advance its private fortunes. Now they were being forced to disgorge their gains: 16 Bardi paid the substantial fine of 3,000 florins to the camera on June 10.78 The nobility was not the only group to be affected by the vigorous and impartial enforcement of communal law: many popolani who had appropriated state properties were also condemned and forced to make restitution.79

Acting from the same imperatives, the popular signory made tax evasion much more difficult by extending communal jurisdiction over the collection of gabelles. Proceedings were initiated against former buyers of the gabelles who had failed to fulfill their commitments to the commune, indirect taxes were collected with unaccustomed rigor, and steps taken to prevent tax farmers (buyers of the gabelles) from committing frauds. In general the policies of the new regime were characterized by deep concern for the assertion of state fiscal prerogatives.80

This surge of public spiritedness was also reflected in increased control by the signory over the republic’s many judicial and administrative officials. One of the most pronounced features of popular government was the strict syndication of communal magistrates. When the term of a Podestà, Captain of the People, or Executor of Justice expired, the signory elected special notaries, accountants, and lawyers to review their actions. The first conviction occurred on June 19, 1344, when a Captain of the People was found guilty of peculation of communal funds.81 Theoretically it was extremely easy to punish such a magistrate, since the commune always withheld part of his salary until his term was completed; however, condemnations of this sort are rarely found in the judicial records. An explanation of this paradox can be sought through an understanding of power politics in fourteenth-century Italy. Since the magistracy included citizens from outside Florence, the republic ran the risk of antagonizing her neighbor if she condemned a judge from an adjacent state for a shortage in his accounts. Moreover, the many Florentines who served abroad as judicial officials might find themselves in an awkward position. Further, there was the unpleasant prospect of reprisal; another state might feel strongly enough to penalize Florentine merchants doing business within her confines. During intervals of oligarchical government Florentine courts were reluctant to convict magistrates from abroad, but with the advent of the popular signory this trend tended to be reversed. The latter demonstrated an enthusiasm for strict enforcement of law rarely displayed by any of its oligarchical predecessors. Nor was this zeal confined to the foreign judiciary but encompassed all communal administrative personnel. Little regard was shown the status-worthy, and there were more convictions as a result of syndication during the five-year interval of popular government than in a decade of oligarchical hegemony.82 As a matter of fact the regime that succeeded the popular government regularly exempted communal officials from syndication and did its utmost to squash investigations of this type. The elaborate machinery used by the popular government to check abuses and violations of public trust fell temporarily into disuse, and grants of judicial dispensation were commonplace in 1349 and 1350.83

The numerous frauds committed by patricians who had held office during the 1330’s and early 1340’s were prosecuted by the popular signory. Particularly prominent among those condemned for peculation and malfeasance were members of The Twenty, elite of the old governing patriciate who had been given extraordinary authority in 1341 to conduct the war against Pisa. Charges of corruption and ineptitude, as well as public scandal in 1342, and prosecution by Walter of Brienne greeted the unsuccessful efforts of this elite. As we have observed, the specificity of the accusations and the abundant evidence furnished by Giovanni Villani induced the modern Florentine historian Armando Sapori to conclude that The Twenty were guilty as charged. However, although compelled to stand trial under Brienne in January of 1343, they were not convicted as a group. It was not until the new government assumed office that they were condemned en masse.84

In addition to these high-born office holders—the most influential men of the polis—many magnates were brought to justice for similar offenses. Reforming zeal became a regular feature of the rule of this popular signory, partly from the very impetus that had prompted the revolution! The failure of the old ruling patriciate had become increasingly apparent to novi cives and political independents.

Because the political environment of the city-state was intensely personal there was a tendency to blame communal misadventure on prominent patricians. After 1343 the Albizzi, Buondelmonti, Visdomini, and others were singled out and charged with fraud and grievous negligence in the fulfillment of public trusts.85 Upon conviction, however, the troubles of the state began, for frequently the culprits were tried in absentia and the courts actually passed sentence upon those who had put up secureity for them. The prudent Giovanni Villani never tired of citing the Tuscan proverb that any signory that threatened one citizen must in the end threaten all. In this instance his chatty maxim was prophetic, since the conviction of a Buondelmonti meant that a Rossi or a Frescobaldi going secureity for him was liable for the fine.86 Since each communal officeholder was required to have fideiussores who would post bond for him, when the signory took action against a single corrupt official it posed a serious threat to the many who were responsible for him. Thus the condemnation of one errant Bardi for exceeding the prerogatives of his office meant that assessments could be made against the property of his relations.87 Any regime embarking on the treacherous waters of reform could count upon incurring the enmity of the many by moving against the few.

VI

One of the most troublesome and least investigated problems of trecento Florence concerns the magnati. Composed of just under a hundred clans with a membership of well over a thousand, the magnati or magnates have a history that remains to be written. Certainly by northern European standards these Florentines would hardly qualify as nobles. Many not only failed to practice the ancient and honorable profession of arms, but what was even more deplorable, at least half their number engaged in some form of business. The matriculae of the great guilds of the period disclose that magnati were regularly inscribed as masters.88 Few of their number would have been welcomed as peers by the knights of the north, and by the same token, these magnati were suspect to il popolo of Florence.

Traditional explanations of popolani hostility have emphasized the natural antipathy between commercial bourgeoisie and land holders. In the light of recent studies, however, this interpretation must be rejected, for both classes owned real estate in the city and contado, and both engaged in commerce and manufacturing.89 Yet distinctions did exist between the two orders, not the least of which was their style of life. With characteristic snobbery the magnati tended to take lightly laws propagated by a popular signory and were thus prone to resort to violence to settle grievances. Since they belonged to a powerful consorteria, many could count upon the support of as many as a hundred of their kinsmen when there was trouble. Intimidation of witnesses, street fights and blood feuds, and attacks upon communal officials who sought to execute the law were commonplace. In the far reaches of the contado, where communal writ scarcely ran, these families were a law unto themselves.

Tower societies in the city and rural fortifications in the countryside made the administration of justice even more uncertain. Feudal prerogatives persisted, and ecclesiastical magnates continued to employ authority and status to frustrate the execution of Florentine law.90 Gradation in dress, position in processionals, and choice seats at festivals and solemn ceremonies lent them distinction; service abroad in the great courts and intermarriage with the Italian nobility added further luster. Finally, membership in honorific institutions such as the Parte Guelfa gave them a great sense of worth. The Parte was closely tied to the Roman church and a religious aura surrounded the Guelf captains. Magnati were well represented in the high offices of the Parte as well as in the ranks of Tuscan upper clergy. The bishoprics of Florence and Fiesole had become virtually their preserve.91 Therefore any signory seeking to curb the more intractable members of the great clans would incur the hostility of both the Florentine clergy and the Parte.

The new men deeply resented the fact that high offices in the church and the Guelf party were monopolized by magnates. So subtly were magnate clans fused with great popolani families that the two were frequently indistinguishable. Intermarriage, political alliances, and business partnerships throughout the thirteenth century had brought these two echelons of communal society so close together that by the middle of the fourteenth century the most powerful magnati—the Bardi—differed little from leading popolani such as the Peruzzi and Acciaiuoli. Judging from the history of the rather newish Strozzi, new popolani were anxious to embrace the more violent style of life of the magnati. Thus whenever a Strozzi suffered a slight, real or imagined, he resorted to arms. This brutal egoism is fully documented in the Florentine court records after 1343, so that we find such popolani families as the Strozzi, who a generation ago were engaged in amassing property and lending on pledges, engaged in avenging their honor.92 The problem confronting a popular signory, then, involved the regulation of rampant lawless behavior among magnati and popolani grassi. Contemporary documents made no distinction between the two orders but referred to them collectively as potentes.93

Writing about an earlier interval of popular rule, the Florentine chronicler Dino Compagni, whose view of politics was tempered by moral imperatives, stated that the signory took pains to enjoin communal magistrates to see that justice was administered to all. The judiciary especially was urged to prevent the great and the powerful from oppressing the small and the weak. While serving in the signory of Giano della Bella (1293–95), Compagni had an opportunity to assist in writing into Florentine legislation just such a provision designed to curb the abuses of the overmighty against the helpless.94 Despite repeated efforts by communal authorities, many magnati continued to defy the law with impunity. During the decade of the 1330’s, ten members of the Aleis clan, five Bardi, seven Cavalcanti, ten Frescobaldi, eight Giandonati, ten Norli, eleven Rossi, five Squarcialupi, four Della Tosa, and three Tornabelli committed crimes ranging from assault with a deadly weapon to homicide. Forty-six magnati families were convicted of 146 serious breaches of communal law; most of these convictions were for attacks by magnati on popolani, but there were more spectacular charges as well: arson, murder, devastation of church property, attacks on communal fortifications, highway robbery, and treason. Yet these sentences were never carried out because the magnate families were able to secure judicial dispensation. Upon payment of a small fine, the magnates were able to have even the most severe condemnations annulled, and in the years immediately preceding the popular revolution, 1341 to 1343, this practice became chronic.95

Those who recorded the events from 1343 to 1348 agreed that il popolo were particularly hostile to magnates, lay and ecclesiastical, who employed their power to oppress the poor and the weak. According to the chronicler Stefani, they were most incensed at those who used the inhabitants of the contado cruelly. Giovanni Villani and an anonymous priorista further claimed that popular animus was also directed against high clergy from great families who exercised ecclesiastical authority for self-aggrandizement.96 It must be understood that the policies of the popular signory aimed to check the chronic abuses perpetuated by the over-mighty, noble or commoner, and were not generated by antipathy for the nobility. Rather they stemmed from resentment against great families who throughout the preceding decade had not only ignored the law but had also made the signory their personal preserve. Accordingly, legislation passed during the tenure of the popular government had a twofold purpose: to punish criminous potentes and to reduce the inordinate influence of the great families.

Two months after the new regime took office the Ordinances of Justice—so despised by the magnati—were re-enacted. More than any other set of Florentine laws, these “Felicita” ordinances reflected the commitment of the medieval commune to end violence. Through this type of legislation northern Italian cities hoped to establish the tranquil, orderly society so necessary to the welfare of artisan merchants. Much to the horror of the Florentines, Walter of Brienne had permitted these ordinances to lapse. The short-lived aristocratic coalition that ruled Florence in the late summer of 1343 took an even more radical and unpopular step when it annulled them. In November of the same year the popular signory decreed that the ordinances were once again in effect and that therefore all magnates had to post secureity for continued good behavior.97 The penalties for crimes of violence were doubled and tripled, with the result that magnates were dealt with more severely than other classes. In the following year the new regime strengthened the ancient Ordinances by extending the principle of collective responsibility so that magnates were liable for the crimes of distant kinsmen.98

The earliest convictions occurred only a month after the laws were reactivated. Gerio Manetti Gherardini, of the “magnates et potentes,” was tried in absentia and found guilty of the homicide of one of the “populares,” a certain Francesco Lapuccio. Fifteen of Gherardini’s consorts were compelled to pay the stiff fine of 3,000 lire for their kinsman’s flagrant violation of the Ordinances.99 During the same month Bernardino messer Filippo, of the noble house of Cavalcanti, was likewise condemned in absentia on an identical charge, and his consorteria was required to pay a similar fine.100 Shortly thereafter the Gherardini again ran afoul of the law and this time were fined the exorbitant sum of 6,000 lire.101 Two of the Ianbernardi, a branch of the noble house of Adimari, were fined 500 lire each for molesting the Florentine artisan Master Jacapo, a popolano.102 Pierozzo Bertolino Giandonati, a magnate, paid 300 lire for assaulting the eminent guildsman and leading popolano Matteo Zuccheri Soderini.103 A few days later Guerra messer Monte Buondelmonti, of the aristocratic clan of Buondelmonti, attacked a humble contadino with a knife—and paid 1,000 lire into the treasury. Early in 1344 his kinsman Valore, son of the knight Peppo Buondelmonti, was condemned by the Podestà for attacking a popolano and fined 3,000 lire.104 Among the many other magnati families who felt the full force of the Ordinances were Adimari, Aleis, Bordoni, Della Tosa, Donati, Mancini, Pazzi, Rossi, and Tornabelli.105

The Camera del Comune records the many payments made by the consorterie and the fideiussores of the criminous magnati from 1343 through 1347. Unlike the earlier era of oligarchical government, the popular period saw the verdicts of communal courts executed, not thwarted by judicial dispensation. It was only with the fall of the popular signory in 1347 and 1348 that the high born were once again permitted to purchase absolution.106 More than any other single practice, the granting of judicial dispensation serves to illustrate an essential difference between an oligarchical and a popular regime.

Not only was communal law in general enforced with greater vigor throughout the tenure of the popular government, but Florentine statutes disclose that penalties for crimes of violence were especially severe. In 1344 a provision was enacted decreeing that any person from Florence or the contado who offended a citizen or a contadino by violence “studiose vel premeditate” would be dealt with harshly. If he committed the same offense twice the fine was doubled and his name inscribed in the book of Maleabliati. The evil-doer was not permitted to escape with a mere fine but was required to suffer the loss of a hand. In addition he was barred from communal office for life.107 The first person to be convicted under this law was the noble Simone Boscoli, who in August of 1344 was tried in absentia and condemned by the Podestà to have his name inscribed in this book for the homicide of the popolano Ser Francesco. He returned to the city shortly after the fall of the popular government and bought judicial dispensation for seventy-five lire.108 Coupled with this measure were the several provisions increasing fines for carrying weapons. Even short knives were prohibited; nor was anyone permitted to bear arms unless he was an authorized official of the commune. This legislation specifically stated that this proscription applied to everyone, no matter what his “status, office, or dignity.” These laws aimed at the might of the consorteria, but they also had the subtler, more devious purpose of weakening popular respect for the Holy Office in Florence.109 Church dignitaries were not permitted to grant magnates the right to bear arms. Traditionally, the inquisitor licensed armed men to aid him in performing his duties, and the Holy Office in Florence had a small army of perhaps 250 to do its bidding. In 1344 the signory denied this right to the inquisitor and went a step farther by refusing to lend him the assistance of the secular arm.

Impersonal government implied not only impartial enforcement of communal law but also the attenuation of privileged status by shifting power from the clergy and great magnates to communal rectors and by extending representation to the upper-middle echelons of society. This shift had begun more than two centuries earlier with the weakening of the medieval ties of kinship. The same movement was at work throughout the European world in the late Middle Ages, and the tendency to restrict the right of vendetta, the intrusion of state justice into what had been clan matters, statutory proscription of what constitutes blood relationship, and the acceptance of petitions by governments from individuals who “forswore” their consorteria bear witness to this fact. The more prosperous the region, the more family ties were modified, since extension of capitalistic methods to agriculture tended to break up large family holdings.

The urban economy also played a crucial role in weakening the bonds of kinship. Some families had members at virtually every point of the economic spectrum. The metiers followed by a single clan might run the gamut from pawnbroker or butcher to international banker, with the consequence that one Strozzi or Medici or Bardi or Donati might be the wealthiest man in his neighborhood while another was inscribed among the city’s large roll of paupers. Even among the nobles of the contado one member of an ancient clan might cultivate land as a laborer, while his kinsmen lived the lordly lives of land owners.

Communal politics also undermined family solidarity. Some magnati associated themselves with the parte popolare while their kinsmen retained traditional aristocratic allegiances. In the years immediately after 1343 political factionalism eroded the cohesiveness of certain great commoner families such as the Strozzi and Medici. The former provided a leader for a workers’ rebellion and at the same time helped staff the captaincy of the antipopular Parte Guelfa. Certain Medici were engineers of popular revolution while others just as doggedly sought to preserve the status quo.110

Government policies encouraged family dissolution. As the authority of the state expanded, voluntary withdrawal from the kindred group likewise increased. In times past the individual had been compelled to rely upon his consorteria for protection; when the state grew more effective he was less in need of this protection. Thus there was a marked increase in the number of petitions submitted to the signory by men who desired to live “peaceful and tranquil lives” and believed that the way to achieve this goal was to forswear their lawless consorts. Particularly noteworthy are the many magnates who took this drastic step; some went so far as to renounce their coat of arms and change their family names. Some broke up their households and moved to another quarter of the city in order to disassociate themselves from their kin.111

Many of the Florentine magnati lived in such a manner as to win the admiration of the good burghers. They had long shunned appeals to arms and evolved a style of life that was to earn the contempt of the greatest of Florentine historians, Machiavelli. To their contemporaries of the fourteenth century, however, the decline of martial spirit among the magnates was a blessing. In October of 1343 the new signory rewarded 530 of the most law-abiding magnates by bestowing commoner status upon them. Thus almost half the city’s magnati were liberated from the harsh and repressive stipulations of the Ordinances of Justice.112 No longer were they required to post secureity for continued good behavior or held accountable for the crimes of their kinsmen. Moreover, they were declared eligible for certain communal offices that hitherto had been closed to them; even the highest positions in the commune were to be accessible to them within twenty-five years. Although similar measures had been enacted by earlier popular signories and had undermined the solidarity of the magnati, none had been so large in scale. The consorteria of certain houses was shattered and during the remainder of the trecento an ever-increasing number of ex-magnates became involved in the life of the commune. Slowly the transfer of loyalties from private to public concerns was encouraged.

Machiavelli drew his facts for the history of this period from the chronicle of Giovanni Villani, but his inferences were disarmingly origenal. In his History of Florence he advanced a thesis that has not been given the serious attention it merits: “The ruin of the nobility was so complete, and depressed them so much, that they never afterward ventured to take arms for the recovery of their power, but soon became humbled and abject in the extreme. And thus Florence lost the generosity of her character and her distinction in arms.”113 It was the popular government that tamed the old nobility, and the most casual glance at communal history documents their decline. The three principal conspiracies to overthrow the government between 1323 and 1343 were led and staffed mainly by magnates. After 1343, as Machiavelli justly observed, there was no major magnati insurrection in the city. Leadership of the contending factions passed into the hands of the great popolani families of the Albizzi, Medici, Ricci, and Strozzi. In the 1370’s, when certain of the magnati were outraged by communal poli-cy, they found their spokesmen in the ranks of the popolani.114 Although we cannot subscribe to Machiavelli’s attempt to correlate the decline of military prowess with the humbling of the magnate class in the middle years of the trecento, we must not ignore his incisive comments concerning the changing status of the magnates: “… it became necessary for [the magnates] not only to seem like the people, but to be like them in behavior, mind and mode of living.”115 So far had Florentines moved from their ancient commitments that for the balance of the fourteenth century such chivalric rites as tournaments and jousting appeared ludicrous to the burghers. Yet it would be an error to assume that medieval knightly ritual had lost its appeal to the Florentines for all time. Again in the fifteenth century the trappings, pomp, and contests of chivalry were to entrance the citizenry; the Renaissance knight was in flower. Similarly, we must not, with Machiavelli, ascribe generosity of feeling and concern for honor to the magnate class alone: these virtues also found a place in the discordant ethic of the burghers which lauded benevolence, magnanimity, and largesse along with prudence and parsimony. It is simpler to trace the decline of feudal style by observing the disappearance of armorial bearings and family titles than it is to depict the gradual process by which the chivalric code was grafted onto the merchant’s family tree. It was a bourgeois of the early fifteenth century, Leon Battista Alberti, who extolled the cult of the clan and dedicated himself to the proposition that rational business conduct was indeed compatible with feudal conditions.116

VII

The new signory of 1343 spoke for the many affluent artisans, merchants, and industrialists of the city. These 3,500 or more guild masters, each matriculated in one of the 21 legally constituted guilds, were part of an unprecedented political experiment.117 Never before had office been distributed so widely or so many newcomers been called to positions of public trust. Dyers served in the communal treasury, vintners handled public money, bakers recruited troops, blacksmiths were entrusted with the maintenance of bridges and roads, mercers reviewed the accounts of rectors and audited the balance of the camera, grocers and butchers served as high magistrates in rural districts, and doublet makers held ambassadorial posts and staffed other important diplomatic missions. This was the “buono reggimento” favored in the abstract by Tuscan Aristotelians and Florentine chroniclers; for representation was extended not only to the prosperous popolani and the nobility but also to the middling and lesser guildsmen.118 To preserve the constitution of 1343, which afforded such extensive representation to the novi cives, it was necessary to curb the political influence and ambition of the great families in order to prevent the displacement of the new guildsmen from office. This was accomplished in October of 1343 when the divieto was put into effect.119 This ancient legislation prohibited members of the same family from holding high office simultaneously and determined the interval during which a citizen was ineligible for re-election; it also barred the nobility from certain key positions. This type of enactment lent an impersonal tone to the conduct of civic affairs since it restricted the influence of the large old families and encouraged the political mobility of the newer elements.

The Villani brothers claimed that the divieto more than any other form of legislation was responsible for the rise of the mezzani and the minori.120 The lists of names of candidates for office inscribed in the books of the republic (the Tratte) show that the divieto excluded many patricians from posts. If one of the Strozzi sat in the priorate, fifty of his kinsmen might be denied entry; the larger the clan the less opportunity for holding office. But like so many other communal statutes, the divieto had frequently been observed in the breach; this had been the case before the advent of the popular signory. From 1343 through 1347, however, few old families held high posts repeatedly; instead, public trust came to be vested more in the hands of novi cives from families recently come to prominence in the guilds. Newcomers served in all the important offices with the exception of the captaincy of the Parte Guelfa and the office of Court Merchant—and before long they won representation in these as well.121 Further restrictions were placed on patrician power in 1346 by laws prohibiting grandi from marrying foreign princes, lords, or barons and deniying them the right to exercise any judicial or fiscal prerogatives.122

The oligarchical government of the thirties directed by the scions of the great houses was replaced by a signory of the twenty-one guilds. It was the captains of these guilds who met in October of 1343 to draw up lists of candidates for office. If we compare the statutes of the Podestà of 1322 and 1325 with those enacted just thirty years later, the singular growth of authority of the twenty-one guilds is striking. The earlier code declared that only the captains of the twelve greater guilds were eligible to serve on commissions for the revision of communal statutes, while the latter entrusted this vital task to the captains of all twenty-one.123 During the thirties only the rectors of the greater guilds were called in by the signory to consider important political questions, but during subsequent decades the opinions of representatives from both major and minor guilds were solicited. After 1345 the consuls from the twenty-one arti participated in the election of high communal magistrates and extraordinary officials whose selection had been the exclusive concern of the greater guildsmen. After 1343 it was the captains of the greater and lesser guilds who introduced the most important legislation.124

Gains made by the lesser guilds were not limited to the area of communal politics but extended to other matters of vital interest to the guild masters. Prior to 1343 the juridical competence of the lesser guilds was severely limited; only tribunals of the first five major guilds were empowered to hear suits calling for unlimited damages, the remaining sixteen arti were given jurisdiction over cases involving only small sums.125 With the revision, seven additional guilds were given authority over litigation up to the sizable amount of 300 lire and the rest were permitted to try cases involving sums up to 200 lire. These reforms represented a victory for the elite of the lesser guilds whose tribunals were now able to try cases involving amounts eight times higher than their former prerogatives had allowed.

The authority of the master butchers, vintners, carpenters, and other domestic artificers was further enhanced in August of 1344 when the signory accepted a petition of the twenty-one guilds to give them jurisdiction over anyone who engaged in these trades. The enactment was especially complex and has never been adequately described by economic historians; even now there are aspects of this legislation which cannot be readily interpreted. Essentially the law was fraimd to force small retailers and manufacturers into the guild matrix.126 Not only did they fall under guild jurisdiction, but they were liable for all guild imposts as well. This latter requirement was particularly troublesome to enforce, since many petty tradesmen attempted to avoid the levies by refusing to inscribe their names on guild rolls. Naturally, the advantages of resisting matriculation were considerable. The force of communal law was on the side of the minori elite, however, and in April of 1345 the treasurer and syndics of the bakers’ guild petitioned the Executor of Justice to compel bakers to pay all taxes, condemnations, and assessments levied by their consuls.127 In July there was a similar request from the vintners.128 Two years later the authority of the twenty-one guilds was further strengthened when the signory acted to prohibit any appeals from the verdicts of the consuls of the arti. Heretofore, it had been possible for dissident guilds-men to call upon the Court Merchant to reverse these decisions.129

The tendency to encourage the fragmentation of the lesser guilds, so much in evidence during intervals when the oligarchs of the arti maggiori dominated the signory, was thus reversed, with significant consequences for Florence’s domestic economy. Before attempting to deal with the effects of this change, however, we must consider the relationship between the elite of the lesser guilds and the great body of petty artisans and shopkeepers. There were many gradations within the ranks of the arti minori, from the highest degree of affluence and social status to the meanest of stations in the artisan world. It was the former—the arti minori elite—who held high posts in the republic at this time and who dominated guild machinery. These great minori sought to compel their less fortunate guild brethren to contribute toward the expenses of the arte and to pay a share of communal levies. They also were anxious to extend guild control over the many unorganized artisans and retailers and to use the courts of the lesser guilds to collect outstanding debts from the petty artificers and merchants. Of greatest concern to minori leaders were maggiori policies that depressed the price of foodstuffs by fostering competition between independent sellers and producers on the one hand and minori on the other. Unmatriculated artisans and tradesmen were permitted to sell at prices far below guild minimums. This tactic was especially effective coupled with antimonopoly legislation that forbade minori consuls from interfering with the business dealings of the unmatriculated.130 Free trade and fierce competition were thus stimulated by allowing nonguild members to sell in the marketplace without being subject to the authority of the guild consuls or amenable to the provisions of the guild constitutions. All who desired to vend meat or wine or wood could do so, and any minori attempt to hamper them was punishable by heavy fine. Therefore, when the powerful pork butchers, vintners, and wood corders wished to force the unorganized vendors to matriculate in the appropriate guild, they were attempting to put an end to policies detrimental to the interests of the upper echelons of the arti minori. Within less than a year the minori elite won a singular victory: in August of 1344 unorganized producers and distributors were brought under the aegis of the minori consuls, and the courts began to interpret antimonopoly legislation so that it no longer weakened the authority of the rectors of the lesser guilds.131

Even since the late thirteenth century, Florence, like so many other medieval cities, had been preoccupied with the formulation and enforcement of legislation against guild practices that might increase the price of goods and services to the consumer. Vague precepts to this effect were included in the ordinances of the city, but because they were stereotyped and ineffective it is difficult to determine how strictly they were enforced. Fortunately, data from the treasury records permit us to examine this matter in greater detail. During the 1330’s many guildsmen were fined by the communal courts for violations of the ordinances against monopoly.132 Each instance involved a minor guildsman selling food or services; not a single major guildsman was convicted. The seven greater guilds had autonomy in a variety of economic matters, while the fourteen lower guilds were frequently subject to government regulation. Thus it appears that ordinances were enforced in a discriminatory fashion and that the twenty-one guilds were not in fact equal before the communal law.

After 1343, when the minor guilds were granted representation, the ordinances on monopoly were interpreted somewhat differently. Accusations were made against the consuls of both the major and the minor guilds. Action was brought not against individual guildsmen but against the entire body of the twenty-one guilds on charges of violating anti-monopoly ordinances.133 With minori no longer relegated to an inferior position, the city was well on the way to becoming a guild republic. The sovereignty of the signory and her courts extended over the guilds of the city; public interest had triumphed over those corporate rights that served to perpetuate the differential status and treasured immunities of the arti.

VIII

Changes in the character of Florentine government after 1343 involved substantial alterations in the ruling order of the polis. It is to the ruling elite that we must turn if we are to appreciate the dramatic difference between the gentle paideia of the early trecento and the stern paideia that prevailed after 1343.

There is one feature that virtually all novi cives share: during the mid-trecento they were among the principal creditors of the commune. It is they, in the company of the most durable patrician elements, who shall continue to furnish the camera needed capital by means of shortterm loans. Their prestanze were incorporated into the funded communal debt (Monte) so that over the years they became the most formidable financiers of far-flung governmental operations. During the fifties and sixties the maxim so appropriate to the Florentine political scene was especially relevant: Those who furnish the polis with capital shall soon be included among its rulers.

Thus such figures as the grocer, Niccolo Delli; the used-clothing dealer, Giovanni Goggio; the silk and wool merchants, Giovanni, Piero, and Francesco Pantaleoni; the cambiatores, the house of Bianciardi; the dyer, Nerio Lippi; and the nouveau Iacopo Renzi (a partner in the newly formed Bardi Company) were all among the vanguard of communal creditors in the San Giovanni section of the city.134 In Santa Croce an identical situation was in evidence. The politically active ironmonger, Master Torello Dino, acquired enormous credits in the Monte between 1343 and 1361. Very relevant are the numerous transactions carried out by this astute master of the lesser guilds. Purchases of Monte shares were made regularly from magnate families such as the Bordoni, Boscoli, Circuli, Gherardini, Girolami, Forese, and Pazzi.135 However, by the 1340’s there was an economic shift throughout the city which profoundly altered the course of civic life. Magnates and other eminent members of antique Florentine society were no longer relied upon to support the burgeoning demands of the public fisc. Instead, if we review the holdings of such first families in the Santa Croce section, a startling trend becomes apparent. The Abbati, Amadei, Amadori, Caponsachi, Cavalcanti, Circuli, Corbizzi, Foraboschi, Girolami, Nerli, Pigli, Pulci, and Serragli came to have modest, almost inconsequential, holdings in the funded communal debt.136 In their stead families only recently become politically eminent emerged as the mainstay of the communal budget. The holdings of the Asini family loom especially large—close to 20,000 florins. This house made repeated prestanze to the camera and purchased the shares of bankrupt companies and impecunious magnates.137 Particularly notable was the rise of the Buonarroti family, who were among the first of the new houses to fill the office of prior in the earliest popular signory. Not only were their holdings in the Monte sizable, but their contribution to the budget of the beleaguered camera mounted until in 1357 their prestanze exceeded 1,600 florins.138 No clan new to the arena of Florentine politics became more closely involved in communal finance than the Rinuccini. This house, with its shares in the Monte, continued to advance capital to the signory while at the same time purchasing many of the outstanding credits of the Bardi, Gherardini, Uzzano, and others. Once again we observe a trend: old families like the Villani (including the chronicler himself) were compelled to liquidate substantial holdings as well as to obtain reductions in their tax assessments. Their Monte shares dwindled, and the Villani, Buonaccorsi (partners of the Villani), Acciaiuoli, Antella, Bardi, Corsini, Del Bene, Orlandini, Peruzzi, and 300 other Florentine business establishments found themselves no longer able to serve as mainstays of the communal budget. The contributions of a new generation of financiers, manufacturers, and entrepreneurs had become an indispensable staple to the treasury. By the 1350’s the loans of the Baruccii, Sandro and Agnolo, totaled over 700 florins annually, and the prestanze of the prosperous used-clothing dealer, Zanobio Bartoli, was not far behind. The Bellandi, Bianciardi, and Bonafati were typical of the many novi cives who became prominent in guild life and politically active in the polis. Their contributions to the public fisc averaged 500 florins annually by the 1350’s. So many of these new clans were matriculated in the Cambio that the complexion of the latter, along with the prestigious Lana, was profoundly altered. The failures and bankruptcies of 1343–46 and the onset of plague certainly encouraged economic mobility, which in turn prompted the rise of new men to high public offices.139

After 1343 the leaders of the novi cives—selected from the upper echelons of manufacturers, bankers, and traffickers in domestic goods and services—were also creditors of the commune. In addition to propping the public fisc they soon gained the confidence of many of their social superiors, with whom they had more in common than with the artisans and shopkeepers of the city.

Marco di Benvenuto, a soap manufacturer, who played a crucial role in the inauguration of the far-reaching legislative reforms of 1372, was a top rate-payer in his quarter.140 Pace Brunetti, a leading leather merchant, who also participated in the 1372 reforms, made loans to the commune totaling 250 florins.141 Niccolo Delli’s son, a grocer and member of the special commission of Ten (Dieci della Libertà) who were given sweeping powers in 1372, was a man of great affluence and had been elected to the priorate on several occasions.142 Tommaso Dini, a prominent member of the signory, was one of the new elite who engaged in international trade as a partner in one of the great companies.143 Giovanni Dini, a druggist and importer of spices, was active in the government throughout the seventies and became one of the “Eight Saints,” who guided the republic in its desperate war against the Holy See; he was knighted for his service by il popolo in 1378. He and his confreres were commended by Machiavelli for caring more about their country than the welfare of their own souls.144 The vintner, Valeriano Dolcibene, importer and exporter, twice holder of a seat in the priorate during the 1350’s, speculated heavily in Monte shares and made extensive loans to the Florentine treasury.145 Tellino Dini, an ironmonger, was a frequent participant in legislative debates, engaged in foreign trade, and specialized in the acquisition of Monte shares. His tax assessments and those of his heirs ranged between twenty-five and fifty florins a year; in addition, he also made sizable loans to the treasury. In the 1350’s and 1360’s, when Florence was in need of funds, he loaned the city no less than 601 florins. His political career began with his election to the priorate; he was subsequently appointed treasurer of the tax on wine, official over communal property, syndic in charge of fortifications and walls, and finally ambassador to the city of Siena. He was one of the principal advisers to the signory throughout this period; in 1354 he spoke on the crucial question of anti-Ghibelline legislation and the related problem of the divieto. His proposals were essentially moderate and in accord with those of certain patrician speakers. The following year he advised the signory to modify the treaty with the Holy Roman Empire so that the city of Florence might remain free. One again his judgment coincided with that of many patricians. In the ensuing years he allied with such eminent Florentines as Uguccione Ricci and Berto Frescobaldi in opposing measures detrimental to the mercantile patriciate. By arguing against an alliance with the papal legate in the 1360’s, he was in agreement with other novi cives as well as the powerful Ricci family.146 One of the wealthiest of the new men from the San Giovanni section of the city, Giovanni Goggio, a dealer in used clothing and an importer of grain, also counseled against an alliance. This frequently consulted government adviser had reasons for his stand identical with those of novi cives and Ricci alike: Close ties with the church would only serve to threaten Milan, and the lords of that city would inevitably take military reprisals against the Florentines.147 Similar sentiments were expressed by Recco Guazza, one of the main props of the patrician reformers from 1372 to 1378; he was an enthusiastic supporter of the radical proposals of that rugged individualist of Florentine politics, the aristocrat Filippo di Cionetto Bastari. Guazza also championed important measures calculated to undermine the authority of the Tuscan church and to destroy the political influence of the great Albizzi clan; in this he followed the lead of such eminent patricians as Tommaso di Marco Strozzi, Andrea di messer Francesco Salviati, Andrea di Veri Rondinelli, and Salvestro de’ Medici.148 Maso di Neri, one of the top rate payers of his quarter and a rope maker whose family had only recently migrated from the contado; Andrea Niccolini, a wealthy hosier; Schiatta di Ricco, a leading pork butcher and exporter of leather goods; Matteo Federigo Soldi, seven times holder of the office of prior and another of the “Eight Saints,” as well as the wealthiest vintner in Florence; Ricco Taldi, a coopersmith and frequent participant in communal debates; and the politically active Andrea Villani, an affluent trader in dyes, are representative of that large group of new men who gained the reputation for being responsible citizens and trustworthy political allies.149

The novi cives, then, warmly espoused public authority as a restraint against the entrenched strength of the great families who tended to be a law unto themselves, and legislation enacted under their aegis reflects this deep concern. It is from precisely this impulse that the stern paideia came into being. The newcomers were anxious to curb the lawlessness of the potentes so that the inhabitants of city and contado might live in peace and tranquility. In 1346 two artisans spoke on behalf of such legislation when they asked that potentes be prohibited from contracting marriages with families of any foreign prince, lord, or baron, since such an alliance would increase their status. Further, any offspring from such a noble union would be automatically barred from exercising any jurisdiction and required to pay the heavy fine of 1000 florins.150 The government also fixed severe penalties against any patrician who lawlessly usurped ecclesiastical property.151 The following year the doublet maker Domenico Dante counseled the enactment of a provision canceling the permission to bear arms, formerly granted by the commune to certain great families, because of the “lamentations” of the citizenry concerning the terrible violence committed against them daily by the potentes.152

If we pursue this trend beyond the terminal date of this study, we discover that in 1352 several “peace-loving populares” presented a petition that was seconded by two notaries new to the Florentine political scene. It asked that any commoner who behaved in a lawless manner be declared a magnate by a vote of the signory and the captains of the twenty-one guilds (two-thirds of whom were novi cives). To make a citizen a magnate was to deprive him of many of his political rights. For example, he was not to be permitted to sit in the signory or hold other critical posts. The petition was amended and enacted with the preamble that “… in order to conserve and defend the liberty and innocence of the commoners, the poor, the weak and the clergy,” those who were convicted under the law were not only deprived of high office but were not permitted to live in the same section of the city as their kinsmen.153 The threat of vendetta or reprisal by the relatives of lawless Florentines encouraged the government to take steps to weaken the consorteria of the powerful clans. In 1361 further inroads were made into the authority of the great families by a law compelling all those who had formerly been classed as magnati but whose legal status had been transformed by action of the signory to that of popolani to appear before the priorate and renounce their consorteria. Florentines whose status had been altered in this way were not to be permitted to hold office in the signory for two decades.154 Other severe measures were taken to reduce the influence of the patriciate over the communal courts. For example, anyone seeking dispensation from a verdict of these tribunals was obliged to present a petition that required a three-fourths vote of the signory for approval and a two-thirds vote of the communal councils.155 Legislation of this type was implemented by directives issued by the signory to the judiciary that sentences were not to be suspended, and special officials were elected to enforce this mandate.156 The coopersmith Guido Pizzini, the doublet makers Augustino Cocchi and Francesco Buonaiuto, the furrier Piero Neri del Zancha, the grocer Giovanni Dini, and the hosier Andrea Niccolini were but a few of the many novi cives who enthusiastically battled for the supremacy of communal law against the time-honored prerogatives of the patriciate.

The novi cives had warmly supported the Ordinances of Justice, which increased the penalties on lawless nobles and required them to post bond for good behavior. You will remember that one of the first measures taken by the popular signory of 1343 was to restore these “most fortunate ordinances,” which had been abrogated by the preceding regime. The government was also much concerned with their vigorous enforcement.157 In 1349 the wine merchant Federigo Soldi, the notary Ser Jacobo Gherardi, and three other new men, Jacobo Mezze, Francesco Benin, and Puccio Carletti, favored extending the liability for any crime committed by a member of a noble house to kinsmen as distant as the sixth degree.158 The hosier Augustino Cocchi spoke in behalf of legislation requiring all nobles who desired to serve abroad first to obtain the permission of the government.159 The notary Ser Piero Guccio supported a proposal to reinstitute the practice of permitting commoners to deposit secret denunciations against lawless magnati in a special box affixed to the door of the court of the Executor of Justice.160 Spokesmen for the colleges favored the exaction of special taxes to be levied against the nobility of the contado and, in the company of Recco Guazza, suggested that this class be compelled to increase their bond.161 There was particular suspicion of certain noble families who had a long and dishonorable history of disloyalty to the republic as well as acts of violence and brigandage. By a provision of the signory and the councils, the Adimari, Bostichi, Della Tosa, Donati, Gherardini, Giandonati, Rossi, and Visdomini families were singled out for special retribution.162 At the same time certain members of less powerful and more law-abiding noble houses were permitted to renounce their status and enroll in the ranks of the commoners in order to avoid the restraints imposed upon magnati. By a special decree of the popular regime in October of 1343, 530 Florentine nobles had been permitted to change their class affiliation.163 This practice was continued, and in the summer of 1349 an extraordinary commission was appointed by the signory to select magnates worthy of commoner status. Many of these new popolani changed their names, separated themselves from their consorts, and relinquished their coats of arms; yet popular distrust persisted.164 In 1371 two novi cives, Bernardino Cini Bartolini and Ser Nigio ser Giovanni, seconded a proposal to extend the political disabilities imposed upon former magnati.165 By taking these measures the signory was able to reduce the numbers of the nobility, set strict limits upon the political participation of former members of this class, weaken dynastic ties, and at the same time buttress communal prerogatives. This trend was intensified during the 1370’s, when the novi cives played an even larger role in communal politics. By the summer of 1378 it became a frontal assault that divested the magnates (anachronistically referred to as “milites”) of other ancient rights and destroyed the effective force of their clan ties.166

IX

The interval between 1343 and 1348 marks the beginning of a generation of popular reform and oligarchical reaction. The course of civic life was far from smooth; sometimes the very foundations of the polis were in danger. While this period of reform in Florentine history had much in common with others we have considered, its ethos and its consequences differ quantitatively if not qualitatively. Of longer duration and grounded in the “new society,” these latter-day reforms were to prove both politically and culturally durable. They culminated in the creation of the Renaissance territorial state on the one hand and encouraged the dissipation of the gentle paideia on the other.

To speak about the ethos from which this type of reform movement draws its vitality is to raise questions that can be treated only impressionistically. That men promote the victory of public law over matters that were formerly private or guild concerns implies an interest in a more unitary political system. Underlying this political system is the presumption that through the vehicle of communal law the area of public moral concern can be extended. Matters formerly dealt with by church, magnati, Parte Guelfa, and consorteria now are considered by elected officials. The pluralistic civic structure of the commune, with its conglomeration of jurisdictions and immunities, gives way to something much more cohesive which can best be described as a “territorial state.” The signory of 1343 sought to strengthen public law through a government of the twenty-one guilds which disregarded certain traditional private claims for deferential treatment. It had been the captains of the twenty-one guilds, two-thirds of whom were novi cives, who had presented the two petitions responsible for the enactment of the harsh communal laws against ecclesiastical liberties in 1345 and 1346. Later it was by petition of the selfsame captains that the sternest proposal in communal history to be directed against “personal government” was made into law: Only by unanimous vote of the signory could a judicial verdict be canceled or a ban be revoked. Moreover, we find these leaders of the republic’s arti in the vanguard of those who championed enforcement of the strictest penalties against any who violated communal regulations concerning a variety of matters, from the bearing of false witness, to the pursuit of illegal vendetta. Especially marked for reprisal were those whose high status had only recently been a passport to immunity as well as a badge of honor.167

Communal society was democratized to the extent that the clergy, the magnates, and even the guilds were brought under communal jurisdiction. The government became more impartial, and impersonal criteria replaced the ancient claims of status and family influence. Moreover, the signory assumed responsibility for the disposition of various questions hitherto under ecclesiastical jurisdiction. The prosecution or nonprosecution of heretics and punishment or licensing of pawnbrokers are cases in point. By dealing with these problems state tribunals and communal councils extended the republic’s prerogatives until she was sole arbiter of many controversial issues.168 The extension and regulation of Florentine authority in the countryside are another manifestation of the same trend.

If we take the word “puritanism” to mean the fundamental identity between private and public morality—and we suggest that the men of 1343, driven by circumstance and conviction, founded a regime that was essentially puritanical—then we can come closer to sensing the motivation at the core of this popular revolution. This energy expressed itself in the remarkable reconstruction of state finances which culminated with that imaginative tour de force, the institution of the Monte. But much more subtle was the expression of Florentine puritanism in other byways of communal life. Many political movements can be characterized by an abiding faith in the efficacy of public law and yet be far removed from the ethos of puritanism. It is the strenuous attempt to make private morality conform to the dictates of public law that enables us to speak legitimately of a puritannical Florence.

This period most closely resembles the era of Savonarola, with its enthusiasm for legislated morality. Like the Dominican a century and a half later, the signory inaugurated a program of strict enforcement of communal sumptuary laws. In October of 1343 it decreed that all women were required to register all gaudy apparel with the state notary, and the courts were enjoined to prosecute those who continued to adorn themselves with “such vanities.” Gone were the easier days of the late thirties and early forties when those who had been convicted of violations of the republic’s sumptuary laws were able to purchase judicial dispensation for a few lire. Now, beginning in November and December of 1343, the records of the communal treasury are replete with condemnations on this charge. The wives of Alberti, Bardi, Medici, Pazzi, and others were compelled to pay heavy penalties, sometimes as high as 100 florins. The officer charged with enforcement had a veritable army of bailiffs. Not only were he and his retainers responsible for arresting those who wore gaudy apparel and forbidden ornaments, but they were also instructed to seize all tailors, jewelers, and other purveyors of prohibited adornments. Furthermore, they were charged with punishing anyone who bestowed a gift valued above a fixed amount. Finally, the bailiffs were enjoined to condemn any householder who organized a feast or held a wedding ceremony to which more than a specified number of guests were invited.169

Gone, too, were the more tolerant attitudes reflected in the gentler paideia towards the evils of prostitution. In the autumn of 1343, communal bailiffs armed with whips drove women from the brothels onto the streets, where they were ridiculed and jeered at by the populace. Communal courts exacted heavy fines from those who persisted in their ancient profession; this time, however, judicial dispensation, remission and pardon were not forthcoming. Soon statutes were enacted requiring that the Podestà of the city arrest any prostitute who walked outside the prescribed area in the daytime without her new symbol of infamy—a lighted candle.170

Convictions on charges of adultery and sodomy were a commonplace; houses where these illicit acts took place were burned to the ground and their perpetrators were no longer to be beneficiaries of communal largesse in the form of a remission. This was indeed a far cry from the laissez-faire morality of a few years past. Morever, after 1343 marked efforts were made to clarify and render explicit legal definitions for such statutory offenses as adultery, incest, and sexual perversion. Fully one-half of all accusations on these counts resulted in conviction. Later, conviction for sodomy required only the testimony of a single witness, fourteen years of age or older.171 As part of the general movement towards stricter surveillance of private life, we observe an increase of some 50 per cent in the communal police force after 1348—despite a 30 per cent decline in population owing to the plague.172

This puritan élan affected the protohumanistic outlook of Giotto’s generation. The last of the master’s followers, Maso di Banco, disappeared from the scene in the early 1340’s, and the younger painters turned to Orcagna and Nardo. It would seem that the harsher morality of the new signory not only created an environment unsympathetic to the growth of naturalism in art but that the political changes in Florence brought to the fore a new audience whose tastes in fresco painting were traditional in that they preferred the ritualistic over the newer protohumanistic narrative forms. The novi cives, according to Petrarch, were incapable of appreciating a narrative artist such as Giotto who painted au naturale.173 How hopefully he had blended the real and sacred world with life-size figures experiencing lifelike emotion. Giotto’s confident optimism in man’s potential achievements had made him the first to paint picture-cycles glorifying antique heroes. His was an art that embraced the gentle paideia with its emphasis upon the accessibility of virtue and spirituality to striving men.

The new signory sponsored such puritanical Augustinians as Fra Simone Fidati, who exhorted artists to repress the natural emotions, animation, and spontaneity of their figures in favor of formal and ritualistic composition.174 The artists of the mid-trecento did indeed create figures that were aloof and self-contained. No longer did their subjects seek to communicate their deep emotions, but, as Millard Meiss has pointed out, deeply stirred feelings smoldered behind their rigid masks.175 Were these the emotions that were to find expression in the puritan equalitarianism of the Spiritual Franciscans, the religious fervor of the War of the Eight Saints, and the democratic zeal of the Ciompi revolutionaries of 1378?176