The Florentine Magnates: Lineage and Faction in a Medieval Commune [Course Book ed.] 9781400862344

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THE FLORENTINE MAGNATES

THE FLORENTINE MAGNATES LINEAGE AND FACTION IN A MEDIEVAL COMMUNE

Carol Lansing

PRINCETON UNIVERSITY PRESS PRINCETON, NEW JERSEY

COPYRIGHT © 1991 BY PRINCETON UNIVERSITY PRESS PUBLISHED BY PRINCETON UNIVERSITY PRESS, 41 WILLIAM STREET, PRINCETON, NEW JERSEY 08540 IN THE UNITED KINGDOM: PRINCETON UNIVERSITY PRESS, OXFORD ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

LIBRARY OF CONGRESS CATALOGING-IN-PUBLICATION DATA LANSING, CAROL. THE FLORENTINE MAGNATES : LINEAGE AND FACTION IN A MEDIEVAL COMMUNE / CAROL LANSING. P. CM. INCLUDES BIBLIOGRAPHICAL REFERENCES AND INDEX. ISBN 0-691-03154-1 1. NOBILITY—ITALY—FLORENCE—POLITICAL ACTIVITY—HISTORY. 2. GUILDS— ITALY—FLORENCE—POLITICAL ACTIVITY—HISTORY. 3. FLORENCE (ITALY)—SOCIAL CONDITIONS. 4. FLORENCE (ITALY)-POLrnCS AND GOVERNMENT—TO 1421. I. TITLE. HT653.I8L36 1991 305.5'223'0945510902—DC20 91-6867 CIP

THIS BOOK HAS BEEN COMPOSED IN LINOTRON SABON PRINCETON UNIVERSITY PRESS BOOKS ARE PRINTED ON ACID-FREE PAPER, AND MEET THE GUIDELINES FOR PERMANENCE AND DURABILITY OF THE COMMITTEE ON PRODUCTION GUIDELINES FOR BOOK LONGEVITY OF THE COUNCIL ON LIBRARY RESOURCES PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA BY PRINCETON UNIVERSITY PRESS, PRINCETON, NEW JERSEY 1 3 5 7 9 1 0 8 6 4 2

To John B. Lansing

CONTENTS

LIST OF FIGURES AND TABLES PREFACE

ix

xi

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

XV

ONE Introduction: The Medieval Florentine Nobles 3 PART ONE: THE LINEAGE 27 TWO The Formation of Urban Lineages

29

THREE Joint Lineage Property: An Overview

46

FOUR Ecclesiastical Rights as Joint Property 64 FIVE Joint Property: Towers and Palaces 84 PART TWO: THE EXCLUSION OF WOMEN 107 six Disaffection from the Lineage: Umiliana dei Cerchi and the Cathars 109 SEVEN Women Within the Lineage 125 PART THREE: THE MAGNATES 143 EIGHT Knighthood and Courtly Style 145 NINE Violence and Faction 164 TEN The Popolo and the Ordinances of Justice 192 ELEVEN The Debate Over True Nobility 212

Vlii

CONTENTS

TWELVE

The Magnates in the Early Fourteenth Century APPENDIX ι

List of the Magnates 239 APPENDIX Π

A Note on Coinage BIBLIOGRAPHY INDEX

259

243 245

229

LIST OF FIGURES AND TABLES

Figure 1.1 GrowthinThirteenth-CenturyFlorence 6 Figure 1.2 Administrative Divisions: The Sesti 14 Figure 2.1 The Parishes of Thirteenth-Century Florence 42 Figure 4.1 Ownership of Joint Property by the Nerli, 12641291 75 Figure 5.1 LaCastagna 86 Figure 5.2 The North Side of the Mercato Vecchio Before Its Demolition 94 Figure 5.3 Family Enclaves: Carocci's Reconstruction of Central Florence in 1427 96 Figure 9.1 The Abati: Ghibelline Ties and Financial Interests 178

Table 3.1

Magnate Urban and Rural Properties in the Liber Extimationum by Number of Entries and Kinship Ties Between Co-Owners 51

Table 7.1

Dowries of Wives of Exiles in Libre, 12761300 130

PREFACE

T

HIS IS A study of a medieval urban nobility, the magnates of the Florentine commune in the thirteenth century. The study was mo­ tivated by a number of interconnected problems in the scholarship on Florence and the medieval Italian cities. The first of these is a general concern: the lack of a clear conception of the life of the town before the late thirteenth century. The few scholars who have worked on the earlier period have emphasized the most modern and familiar elements of urban life, typically tracing the rise of political factions or constitutional devel­ opments and the formation of institutions. The result has been a body of work that portrays the city as if it were the relatively ordered and wellgoverned town it had become by the fifteenth century. Medieval Florence was fundamentally different from the more familiar city of the Medici. Despite its Roman origins, it was in many ways a raw, new town, the product of a flood of immigration in the twelfth and thir­ teenth centuries. Florence was ill-prepared to receive these newcomers. Streets were unpaved and most buildings were ramshackle, wooden af­ fairs. Civic institutions were frail and recent inventions. Until the 1250s, few public buildings existed and city administrators met in private houses. Formal government in fact was only a thin and fragile overlay. The city's neighborhoods were loosely run through informal and private mechanisms by the nobility, whose high stone towers and palaces domi­ nated the medieval Florentine skyline. The general concern that lies be­ hind this study, then, is the need to set aside modern and even Renais­ sance ideas about the city, in the hopes of arriving at a better understanding of the nature of urban life and of urban politics in the cha­ otic period of the real creation of the commune. The second and related problem in the scholarship on Florence is the overwhelming presence of the Renaissance. Historians have focused on the better-documented and perhaps more important city of the late four­ teenth and fifteenth centuries, and often have looked to medieval Florence only when searching for the origins of Renaissance developments. It is of course valuable to seek to understand why the Renaissance began in Flor­ ence and not elsewhere, and this study in fact attempts a part of the an­ swer to that question. However, the result has been a neglect and some­ times even an unintended distortion of the medieval evidence. The Renaissance bias has shaped work on patrician family structure, a major focus of this study. One important debate in Florentine social his­ tory concerns the possible decline of the patrician lineage in the Renais­ sance. Richard Goldthwaite in 1968 offered the provocative and Burck-

Xli

PREFACE

hardtian argument that the extended ties of lineage declined in the late fourteenth and fifteenth centuries; medieval corporate unity gave way to a new emphasis on the nuclear family and the individual. F. W. Kent, followed by a number of other scholars, in response demonstrated the continuing importance of some aspects of the lineage in the Renaissance city, though not of its shared economic interests, the problem at the heart of Goldthwaite's argument.1 This debate has been carried on without a solid understanding of the workings of patrician lineages in their sup­ posed heyday in the thirteenth century. Was there ever a medieval "cor­ porate unity"? I have set aside Renaissance developments in search of a clearer picture of the medieval patrilineages. Ultimately, I hope, the result will also give a clearer idea of the changes that did take place in the tran­ sition from the medieval to the Renaissance lineage. The question at issue between Kent and Goldthwaite is the venerable problem of the relationship between the family and the state. Scholars influenced not only by Burckhardt's idea of Renaissance individualism and by Philippe Aries, but perhaps also by American sociology, have as­ sumed that city life fragments families. Historians consider the medieval patrilineage to be rural in its origins.2 Lineages appeared first among the lesser nobility of the countryside in the late tenth and eleventh centuries, and then were imported into the towns. Over time, city life eroded these larger forms of family organization, and they tended to break apart.3 This study, following recent research on Pisa and Siena, challenges that view to suggest that when families emigrated to the city they tended to rein­ force and strengthen lineage ties. Families used a strengthened patri­ lineage as a social and political strategy to build power in the medieval city. I argue that it was only from the last decades of the thirteenth cen1 R. Goldthwaite, Private Wealth in Renaissance Florence (Princeton, 1968), and F. W. Kent, Household and Lineage in Renaissance Florence (Princeton, 1977). 2 The most important exponent of this view has been David Herlihy; see his "Family Solidarity in Medieval Italian History," in Economy, Society and Government: Essays in Memory of Robert L. Reynolds, ed. D. Herlihy, R. S. Lopez, and V. Slessarev (Kent, Ohio, 1969), pp. 173—84. For an influential statement of the view that urban life tends to break up the family, see Louis Wirth, "Urbanism as a Way of Life," American Journal of Sociology 44 (July 1938): 1—24. For a critique of this idea applied to the medieval Italian towns, see Diane Hughes, "Urban Growth and Family Structure in Medieval Genoa," Towns in Soci­ eties, ed. P. Abrams and E. A. Wrigley (Cambridge, 1978), pp. 105—30. 3 On the ways in which urban life reinforced the ties of lineage, see Paolo Cammarosano, "Les structures familiales dans Ies villes de l'ltalie communale, xne-xive siecles," Famille et parente dans I'Occident medieval, ed. G. Duby andJ. LeGoff, Collection de I'Ecole Franchise de Rome, 30 (1977), pp. 181-94. See also his La famiglia dei Berardenghi, Contributo alia storia della societa senese nei secoli xi—xm (Spoleto, 1974). See also the essay by Gabriella Rossetti in Famille et parente, and Pisa nei secoli XI et XII: Formazione e caratteri di una classe di govemo, ed. G. Rossetti (Pisa, 1979).

PREFACE

xiii

tury that this strategy began to change, as families dropped some of the most stringent aspects of the lineage. The study focuses on the magnates, a group of urban nobles who dom­ inated the political life of the city in the twelfth and thirteenth centuries. In the 1280s and 1290s a coalition of guildsmen, calling themselves the popolo, defined their opponents as magnates and attempted to remove them from power and to establish a republic based on the greater guilds. In 1293, a brief democratization of the government providing for the in­ clusion of the craft guilds led to the Ordinances of Justice, laws that se­ verely penalized magnate offenders. Who were the magnates and what was the significance of their legal restriction? Debate has centered on the problem of the relationship between eco­ nomic interests and political conflict. Gaetano Salvemini in 1899 argued that magnati and grandi popolani were rival economic classes and that their conflict was ultimately a struggle between a rentier class and new commercial interests. In the 1920s Nicola Ottokar responded with a study which demonstrated that both groups had complex and mixed so­ cial origins and economic interests. He concluded that the conflict be­ tween magnati and popolani itself was insignificant, a minor turnover in a relatively homogeneous ruling class.4 Most scholars since the time of Ottokar have agreed that the conflict cannot be analyzed in terms of com­ peting economic classes. Not all have also accepted his conclusion that these two groups can be viewed as homogeneous. However, they have not found a convincing substitute. Although the model of rival economic classes has been discredited, scholars have not developed a new approach that can explain the causes and significance of the conflict between mag­ nati and grandi popolani. This study sets aside efforts to impose modern social models, like the idea of competing economic classes, in favor of a careful reconstruction of the social category of magnate as it was understood in late thirteenthcentury Florence.5 That category was rooted in specific historical circum­ stances and neatly expressed contemporary social and political analysis. To understand its implications requires a broad look at the patterns of patrician social organization and of what I have termed its political cul­ ture. The families named as urban magnates in the Ordinances of Justice to a remarkable degree shared common histories and a common pattern of social organization and style of life. Central to that culture was the use 4 Gaetano Salvemini, Magnati e popolani in Firenze dal 1280 al 1295 (Florence, 1899; reprint, Milan, 1960); Nicola Ottokar, Il comune di Firenze alia fine del Dugento (Florence, 1926; reprint, Turin, 1962). 5 For a recent article calling for this general approach to textual criticism, see Gabrielle Spiegel, "History, Historicism and the Social Logic of the Text in the Middle Ages," Spec­ ulum 65, no. 1 (January 1990): 59-86.

XlV

PREFACE

of informal mechanisms based on extended kinship ties to build and maintain power. The category of "magnate," then, was used by the Flor­ entine guildsmen to describe a distinct political culture, a culture they believed threatened the commune. To portray the magnates, I have drawn on a wide range of available material, including not only the resources of family history, but church history, domestic architecture, the history of women, military history, philosophy, and poetry as well. The study is an effort to use these resources to shed new light on the medieval city.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

I

T IS A pleasure at last to acknowledge the many forms of assistance I have received in the preparation of this book. I was given invaluable archival training and the opportunity to begin research while sup­ ported by a fellowship from the Renaissance Society of America. Further research in the Florentine archives was funded by a predoctoral fellow­ ship from Fulbright-Hays, a dissertation grant from the University of Michigan, and a faculty research grant from the University of Tennessee. The research would have been impossible without the patient assistance of the staff of the Airchivio di Stato di Firenze, especially Paola Peruzzi and Teresa Arnoldo. Dottore Gino Corti gave kind and invaluable paleographic help. I owe a great debt to my graduate advisor, Marvin Becker, and to the members of my doctoral committee, Diane Hughes, Thomas Tentler, and Aram Yengoyan. Comments, criticism, and fresh ideas have also come from a long list of colleagues and friends at the University of Michigan, the University of Tennessee, and from among the international commu­ nity of scholars working in the Florentine archive. Friends who have read and commented on the manuscript include William Bowsky, George Dameron, James Farr, F. W. Kent, Christiane Klapisch, and Bruce Wheeler. Salvatore di Maria of the University of Tennessee Department of Romance Languages gave generous assistance with spellings and trans­ lations. Will Fontanez of the University of Tennessee Cartography Lab drew the maps. The readers of the manuscript for the press, Dale Kent and a second anonymous reader, offered useful criticism and saved me from a number of errors. My editor, Joanna Hitchcock, has combined consistent support with endless patience. The errors that remain in the book are unfortunately all my own. It is a special pleasure to thank family members. Betty Ann Gould achieved legible photographs of thirteenth-century pergamene·, Lori Gould made order out of my charts and diagrams. Marjorie Lansing has also contributed to this book in many ways. My husband John Gould has patiently supported and lived with the project for ten years. Finally, my sons Nick and Philip have contributed a useful sense of perspective.

THE FLORENTINE MAGNATES

INTRODUCTION: THE MEDIEVAL FLORENTINE NOBLES

T

HE DOMINANT features of medieval Florence were the high towers of the nobility. Most north Italian communes by the late twelfth century were forests of narrow stone towers: Benjamin of Tudela, visiting Pisa in the 1160s, estimated the number of towers there at a dramatically improbable 10,000.1 In 1100, Florence probably con­ tained only a handful of towers; by 1200 the city's skyline was jammed with more than 150, some ranging as high as 250 feet. No civic monument offered visual competition: in fact, there were few public buildings. Florence had a new set of walls, built in the 1170s, but they enclosed a city largely made up of wooden shops and housing, and parish churches. The few standing classical ruins had been remade into private fortifications. There were two open public spaces within the walls, the ancient forum and a new market used by money changers. The only large building complexes were the Benedictine monastery and the group surrounding the cemetery: the medieval cathedral, Santa Reparata, to­ gether with the baptistry, the bishop's palace, and the hospital of St. John. Other large foundations were built in the free space outside the walls. The familiar image of Florence as a city structured by public and institutional buildings—the oversized Duomo and the monastic churches, the palaces of the guilds, the civic government, and the Guelf party—dates only from the end of the thirteenth century. Until that time, the city was largely shaped by private fortifications.2

1 The Itinerary of Benjamin of Tudela, ed. M. N. Adler (London, 1907), p. 5. The history of medieval Florence was written by Robert Davidsohn, Geschichte von Florenz (Berlin, 1896—1927), and translated into Italian by G. B. Klein, R. Palmarocchi, E. Dupre-Theseider, and G. Miccoli as Storia di Firenze, 8 vols. (Florence, 1956-1968), hereafter referred to as Storia. A brief and dated narrative account in English is Ferdinand Schevill's History of Florence (New York, 1936). 2 There is a fine study of the development of the city: F. Sznura, L'espansione urbana di Firenze nel Dugento (Florence, 1975). For a valuable and richly documented study of urban develoment after 1282, see Paula Spilner, " 'Ut Civitas Amplietur': Studies in Florentine Urban Development, 1282-1400," Ph.D. diss., Columbia University, 1987. For a short ac­ count, see Ugo Procacci, "L'aspetto urbano di Firenze dai tempi di Cacciaguida ai quelli di Dante," Encielopedia dantesca vol. 2 (Rome, 1970); for extensive maps and photographs, see the popular study, G. Fanelli, Firenze (Rome and Bari, 1980).

4

CHAPTER 1

Thirteenth-Century Florence The physical dominance of the towers was a dramatic expression of the power of noble families in the twelfth- and thirteenth-century city. Like the towers themselves, most noble families were new to the commune, a part of the flood of immigrants into the commune in the twelfth and thir­ teenth centuries. The expansion of Florence was late among the north Italian cities, lagging well behind the seaports, including Pisa and Genoa. As late as 1100, Florence had barely moved beyond its undistinguished late Roman origins. When expansion did begin, it was explosive. Actual figures are speculative, but the rough proportions of growth are clear from a series of new city walls. Twelfth-century Florence jumped from a population of approximately 25,000 to one of 50,000. The city doubled again in the thirteenth century, reaching about 105,000 by 1300. In these two centuries, then, the population of Florence quadrupled.3 Figure 1.1 shows the major thirteenth-century changes to the city, including the walls projected in 1284. This expansion was caused by rural economic growth and emigration. The eleventh and twelfth centuries saw the rapid development of the city's contado, or hinterland, an area equivalent to the bishop's diocese. The best evidence for growth is the multiplication of castelli, fortified villages generally inhabited by a number of small proprietors or tenants. Castelli are mentioned in Florentine documents in large numbers only in the elev­ enth and twelfth centuries. Robert Davidsohn, the great nineteenth-cen­ tury historian of Florence, counted only eleven castelli by 1000, then 130 by 1100 and 205 by 1200. These dates are rough approximations, as mention of castelli in surviving documents must lag behind their actual spread.4 The influence of these developments in the contado was profound. This is typical of medieval cities: the close interrelationship between city and countryside has been a major finding of medieval urban historians. The 3 R. A. Goldthwaite, The Building of Renaissance Florence (Baltimore and London, 1980), p. 33, includes a table summarizing the best estimates of Florentine population, drawn from J. C. Russell, Medieval Regions and their Cities (Newton Abbot, 1972), p. 42; Enrico Fiumi, "Fioritura e decadenza dell'economia fiorentina," Archivio storico italiano 116 (1958): 465—66; and C. H. de la Ronciere, Florence, centre economique regionale au XIVe Steele (Aix-en-Provence, 1976), pp. 693-96. 4 Davidsohn, Storia vol. 1, pp. 450—52. On this problem, see Riccardo Francovitch, I castelli del contado fiorentino net secoli XII e XIII (Florence, 1976), who found 235 castelli before 1300; and on the development of the contado, E. Conti, La formazione della struttura agraria del contado fiorentino (Rome, 1965). For a recent discussion of growth and the reconstruction of parish churches in the contado, see Italo Moretti, "Espansione demografica, sviluppo economico e pievi romaniche: il caso del contado fiorentino," Ricerche storiche 13, no. 1 (January-April 1983): 33—69.

THE MEDIEVAL FLORENTINE NOBLES

5

model advanced by Henri Pirenne of the city as a "non-feudal island in a feudal sea" has not held up.5 For Florence, the Danish historian Johann Plesner in the 1930s studied the social and economic backgrounds of thirteenth-century emigrants from Passignano and Giogoli. Plesner found an unbroken tradition of combined urban and rural interests. Immigrants to Florence were hardly fugitive serfs. Rather, they most often derived from the prosperous castellan class, families benefiting from the recent rural growth. Regardless of their social background, they characteristically kept their ties to the country and their rural property.6 It may be, however, that the ties linking the Florentine urban patriciate to the countryside were more recent than those of other Tuscan cities. C. J. Wickham has recently speculated that eleventh-century Florentines were less apt to own rural property than were the patricians of other towns, including Lucca and Arezzo. Elio Conti, studying the Chianti, found little evidence in the eleventh century of Florentine landlords. The suggestion is that the Florentines were late to expand their influence over the countryside. If this is correct, the implications for the nobility are sig­ nificant. It suggests that their sources of power and identity were funda­ mentally urban: although many derived from recent immigrants, their so­ cial rise took place in the city, and their rural lands were recent acquisitions.7 As we shall see, in the thirteenth century most patrician families based their identity on urban rather than rural holdings, on pal­ aces and towers rather than country estates. Still, there was a clear opposition between urban and rural interests; it just was not expressed by two distinct social classes. The communal gov­ ernment was quick to recognize the crucial importance of having control of the countryside and in the twelfth century waged a series of campaigns to extend its power over the contado. Noble families dominated the coun­ tryside through strategically placed rocche, forts or castles. As the com­ mune expanded its jurisdiction it conquered these forts and often razed them. The defeated nobles were annually required to join the procession honoring the city's patron, St. John the Baptist, and to bear offerings of wax modeled and painted in symbolic images, like that of a castle. The scene was a potent expression of the nobles' subjection to communal au5 H. Pirenne, Medieval Cities: Their Origins and the Revival of Trade (Princeton, N.J., 1925); the phrase was Michael M. Postan's. For an account of the scholarship on this gen­ eral issue, see A. B. Hibbert, "The Origins of the Medieval Town Patriciate," Past and Pres­ ent (1953), reprinted in Towns in Societies, ed. P. Abrams and E. A. Wrigley (Cambridge, 1978), pp. 91-104. 6 J. Plesner, L'emigration de la campagne a la ville libre de Florence au XIIIe siecle (Co­ penhagen, 1934). 7 C. J. Wickham, The Mountains and the City: The Tuscan Apennines in the Early Middle Ages (Oxford, 1988), pp. 353-54; and E. Conti, La formazione delta struttura agraria vol. 1, p. 170.

Figure 1.1. Growth in Thirteenth-Century Florence. The shaded a eas were piazze opened up in the course of the century.

8

CHAPTER 1

thority.8 They also had to establish residence in the city, a policy that was probably intended to foster civic sympathy among them. Ironically, many nobles already had town houses: the distinction between the minor no­ bility of the city and that of the countryside was already blurred. The paradigmatic case was the Montebuoni family, who held a castle overlooking the Greve and controlling the road to Siena. The Montebuoni were episcopal vassals with loyalties almost comically divided be­ tween the commune and private rural power. A chronicler reports that the family was fighting on behalf of the commune at the siege of their rural neighbors, the Ormanni, when they realized that their own castle was the next in line. Deserting the Florentine army, they prepared to de­ fend Montebuoni. The effort was unsuccessful; the castle was razed in October of 1135. The Montebuoni had long established an urban-rural pattern, with at least one family member owning a house in Florence by 1048.9 The thirteenth-century patriciate ranged across the full spectrum, from those having purely urban to those having purely rural interests. There were nobles who remained aloof and were not early participants in the commune. The point is awkward to document, because it relies on the absence of contradictory evidence. When the Florentines imposed restric­ tions on the magnates, the group was divided into two categories, nobles of the city and those of the contado. The nobles of the contado were con­ sidered those who had never chosen or been required to establish a resi­ dence in town.10 Again, some families are considered to have had purely urban origins, a point that is also based on the absence of contradictory evidence for their antecedents. Finally, families with new wealth derived from commercial ventures or banking were quick to invest in rural lands, even sometimes purchasing titles.11 Still, the majority of patrician families were probably descended from emigrants like those described by Plesner: small proprietors who moved to the city and prospered there. In the twelfth and thirteenth centuries, this hybrid patriciate formed the loose oligarchy that ruled Florence. Despite the sporadic efforts of the 8

See Davidsohn, Storia vol. 7, p. 564; Schevill, History, p. 75. Montebuoni change of heart is described by the chronicler Sanzanome, "Gesta Florentinorum," Cronache dei secoli XII e XIV, Documenti di storia italiana vol. 6 (Florence, 1876), p. 128. The Montebuoni property in Florence is mentioned by Davidsohn, Storia vol. 1, p. 510. 10 For the list, see appendix I. 11 See E. Fiumi, "Fioritura e decadenza dell'economia fiorentina," Arehivio storico italiano 115 (1957): 385—439, for a general study of this problem. Fiumi argued for a marked distinction between the landed nobility and the urban aristocracy. The Bardi purchased a number of castelli in the second half of the thirteenth century, and the Cerchi bought the property of the conti Guidi (Davidsohn, Storia vol. 4, p. 487). The Franzesi similarly were able to purchase properties and jurisdictional rights (Fiumi, "Fioritura," p. 398). 9 The

THE MEDIEVAL FLORENTINE NOBLES

9

German emperors, the city was effectively self-governing.12 Formal polit­ ical organization had begun in voluntary associations of leading towns­ men, private and strictly limited in powers. After the collapse of episcopal jurisdiction, these private associations evolved into a loose form of public government, acquiring a legal foundation only on a piecemeal basis. The Florentine government slowly gathered up most imperial administrative rights, some through the concessions of the Countess Matilda and some by simple usurpation.13 The crucial right of civil and criminal jurisdiction over the contado was typical; it was at first exercised de facto, then con­ ceded by an imperial legate in 1154, and lost and reacquired in 1197.14 City government was marked by decentralization. Scholars usually view the formation of the commune from above, as ultimately derived from the council of episcopal vassals. In fact, the more fundamental Flor­ entine political units were the neighborhood associations. It may be more accurate to envision the parishes joining together to create the commune. Parishes were not only ecclesiastical organizations but distinct fiscal, ju­ dicial, and military units. Parishioners were collectively responsible for tax collection, for the defense of their gate and the provision of a neigh­ borhood company in the city's militia. They were charged with cleaning the neighborhood sewers and repairing the streets. They could even be made collectively responsible for bringing a neighbor accused of a crime to justice. They also carried out major public works. When the Ponte Vecchio collapsed in 1177, the neighborhood military companies were required to march out behind their banners as if to war, plant staffs in the river, and construct a new bridge!15 Ambitious patrician families built towers not only for defense but in hopes of dominating their neighborhoods and controlling consular offices as a result. The original consuls, first documented in 1138, in some way represented the neighborhood associations.16 In the twelfth century the 12 For a survey of the scholarship on the formation of the Italian cities, see G. Fasoli, R. Manselli, and G. Tabacco, "La struttura sociale delle citta italiane dal Ν al XII secolo," Vortrage und Forschungen 11 (1966): 291—320. Recent histories in English of imperial pol­ itics in northern Italy during this period include Brian Pullan, A History of Early Renais­ sance Italy (New York, 1973), J. K. Hyde, Society and Politics in Medieval Italy (London, 1973), Lauro Martines, Power and Imagination: City-States in Renaissance Italy (New York, 1979), and John Larner, Italy in the Age of Dante and Petrarch (London and New York, 1971). 13 For example, there was a fiscal officer, the sescalchus, from 1095: see Davidsohn, Storia vol. 1, p. 495. 14 Davidsohn, Storia vol. 1, p. 978. 15 Davidsohn Storia vol. 1, pp. 484—89. 16 Pietro Santini reconstructed the lists of consuls: "Catalogo degli Ufficiali del Comune di Firenze insino all'anno 1250," Documenti dell'antica costituzione del comune di Firenze, ed. P. Santini, in Documenti di storia italiana vol. 10 (Florence, 1895), pp. xxvi-lxxii.

10

CHAPTER 1

Florentine consuls were generally but not always twelve in number. Inter­ nally, their main function was probably as commercial and judicial au­ thorities, particularly in disputes between neighborhoods. They also di­ rected the commune's interests in external affairs, making treaties and waging wars. By the mid-twelfth century they answered to a general council of about 150 men, and to the popular assembly or arringum, which met in the cathedral and presumably voted by acclamation.17 In the second half of the twelfth century, consuls representing the neighborhoods were joined by consuls acting for the major new urban powers, the professional associations. The first of these were the consuls of the milites, the society of knights, probably titled men who fought on horseback in the militia. They were followed by the consoli mercatanti, representing the city's merchants. Both sets of consuls appear in a text of 1184, ratifying a pact with Lucca.18 By the end of the century, they were joined by representatives of the new financial associations: the priors of the original seven arti, or guilds, and the consoli cambiatorum, consuls of the money changers.19 In practice, most consular offices were held by members of a small group of patrician families. Memberships of course overlapped, so that a consul of the merchants also probably belonged to the societas militum. The corporations of the city were not discrete groups. The most important characteristic of the consular system was its weak­ ness. Civic government was based on a fragile balance between ruling families, and when that balance tipped it was unable to maintain order. Chronic factional turmoil disrupted the city. Because the factions origi­ nated in lineage-based rivalries, small private disputes quickly blew up into full-scale political confrontations. Temporary reconciliations usually followed, often effected by marriage alliances between contending fami­ lies. In 1177 a successful monopoly of the consulate by a faction centered around the Giandonati was challenged by a rival alliance, led by the Uberti. The result was three years of civil war.20 One attempted solution to factional warfare over consular offices was the institution of the podesta. This was a salaried executive, chosen by the council to serve for a year and made accountable by a required audit at the end of his term. The first podesta was Florentine and in fact an Uberti, who had probably led a brief takeover of the city in 1193. By 1207, however, only foreigners could be named to the office, on the prin17

Davidsohn, Storia vol. 1, pp. 999—1002. the pact with Lucca, see Documenti, ed. Santini, part 1,1, n. xiv, pp. 20—24. 19 Daniel Waley, Tbe Italian City-Republics (New York, 1969), 55—65; and for Florence, Davidsohn, Storia vol. 1, p. 514, and P. Santini, "Studi sull'antica costituzione di Firenze," Archivio storico italiano 5 (1903): 31, 32. 20 Davidsohn, Storia vol. 1, pp. 821—30. 18 For

THE MEDIEVAL FLORENTINE NOBLES

11

ciple that an outsider would stand above private interests. In effect, the podesta resembled a hired city manager. An oath of 1204, establishing a peace pact between the commune and a rural nobleman, suggests the limited nature of this government by ne­ gotiation and contract. The oath was taken by the podesta as executive, but he was joined by the "consuls of the commune and the consuls of the knights and the consuls of the merchants and the priors of the guilds and the general council of Florence," all "assembled at the sound of the bell" to take the oath.21 All the major organized secular powers in the city were represented. Their full participation was the best guarantee of the sound­ ness of the agreement. The first half of the thirteenth century was pivotal. These decades saw rapid physical and economic growth, including the development of the south bank of the Arno, as evidenced by the construction of three new bridges. The major streets of the city were paved in 1237. With economic growth came the continuing development of the guilds, including not only wealthy merchants and bankers, but also the beginnings of the craft guilds.22 The other crucial change was the formation of the popular as­ sociations, which ultimately came to challenge the nobility. This began with the societas peditum, the society of foot soldiers, balancing the knights. This group evolved into the societas populi, literally, society of the people: popular organization had its origins in military association. Finally, it was in this period that the local factional alliances coalesced into two distinct parties, associated with the papal and imperial causes, the Guelfs and the Ghibellines. In the second half of the thirteenth century, this tenuous political order broke down, and the city suffered intermittent civil war as the Guelfs and Ghibellines competed with one another and with the new corporate groups—the popular associations and the guilds—for control of Florence. In part, the successive regimes followed the Italian fortunes of the impe­ rial cause. Frederick II gradually succeeded in imposing some measure of imperial control, marked by his assertion in 1238 of the right to endorse or deny a new Florentine podesta. In 1246, he appointed to the office his illegitimate son Frederick of Antioch. This appointment touched off a se­ ries of factional clashes, and the first exile of the leading Guelf families in 1248. Imperial control vanished with Frederick IPs death in 1250. The first popular regime, or Primo Popolo, stepped in. This government was es­ tablished by a group derived from the societas populi. Both the name and 21 In Latin: "potestas et consules comunis et consules militum et consules mercatorum et priores artium et generale consilium Florentie," Documenti, ed Santini, part 1,1, n. iv, pp. 143-44. 22 See A. Doren, Le arti fiorentine, trans. G. B. Klein (Florence, 1940), vol. 1, chap. 1.

12

CHAPTER 1

the circumstances evoke a democratic association of artisans, but in fact the popolo best represented the powerful new commercial interests in the city. A number of the families that rose to political prominence in the period came to be classed as magnates in the 1290s. The Primo Popolo left the traditional structure of government intact, but added a parallel series of popular institutions. These were based on the military organi­ zation of twenty neighborhood companies, each with its own council. The city's quarters were reorganized as sesti, as shown in Figure 1.2. The government was led by a capitano del popolo, who was advised by two councils, one representing the sesti, and the other the greater guilds. This military structure must have been intended in part to counteract private, patrician military control.23 The Primo Popolo lasted ten years and built a number of civic institu­ tions that are indicative of their political and financial interests. Once in power, they acted to restrain the nobles by abolishing the societas militum and restricting the height of private towers to about 29 meters. They also moved the government out of private houses, building the first substantial civic palace, now the Bargello. The most celebrated innovation of the Primo Popolo was the coining of the gold florin. They combined their commercial interests with an active policy of expansion and became en­ gaged in a war with Pisa and Siena for local territorial control. In 1258, the imperial coronation of Manfred raised Ghibelline hopes and led to a revolt in the city. When it failed, the leading Ghibellines fled into exile, leaving much of their property to be destroyed. Two years later, they returned: the Florentine Ghibellines under Manfred's banner joined the Sienese to defeat the Florentine militia at the battle of Montaperti. Florence itself barely escaped destruction. The important Guelfs fled the city and their property in turn was destroyed. Florence briefly returned to the old system of government by Ghibelline podesta. This final Ghibelline regime was short-lived. Actively undermined by papal financial and political pressure, it lasted only up to Manfred's de­ feat by Charles of Anjou at Benevento in 1266. The Ghibellines fled into exile again, and a brief popular government was supplanted when the Angevin troops arrived in the city early in 1267. Power passed into the hands of the Guelf party. The ensuing government again abolished the popular office of the Capitano del Popolo, and made the Guelf party a permanent institution. Gradually, the Guelfs defeated the remaining Ghibelline cities—Pistoia, Pisa, and Siena. By 1270, the Tuscan cities were at least momentarily Guelf, but factional fighting persisted in the countryside. Two successive popes, now wary of Angevin strength, made efforts to reconcile the war23

On the Primo Popolo, see Davidsohn, Storia vol. 2, pp. 506-17.

THE MEDIEVAL FLORENTINE NOBLES

13

ring factions and stabilize Florence. In 1273, the newly elected Gregory X stopped in Florence to attempt to repatriate the exiled Ghibellines. The two factions met in the bed of the Arno, dry in late summer, and the pope presided over a ceremonial kiss of peace between party leaders. The truce did not outlast the pope's stay in the city. In 1279, Cardinal Latino Malabranca, legate of the Orsini pope Nich­ olas III, made a more effective attempt. The cardinal presided over the dramatic return of a group of exiled Ghibellines and, early in 1280, the formation of a new government based on a council of fourteen men, the Quattordici, drawn from both parties. The new bipartisan structure was short-lived. Lacking a stable political base, the Quattordici could not maintain peace when fighting was renewed early in 1281, probably as a reaction to the election of a strongly Angevin pope. Then when Angevin control wavered after the Sicilian Vespers in 1282, the Quattordici was quickly supplanted by the guild-based system, which held the city, with drastic fluctuations, in the fourteenth century. Under this system, Flor­ ence was ruled by a Priorate drawn from the arti, together with a capitano difensore delle arti, and respective councils. In effect, the city was stabi­ lized when communal interests were identified with the interests of the greater guilds. The laws restraining the magnates were a part of this transition to guild rule. The early statutes were an effort to pacify the city by ending the vendettas that led to factional clashes. The first statute, imposed before March of 1281, required a group termed the magnates to post large se­ curities as a guarantee of internal peace. It also denied them the tradi­ tional right of the nobility to carry offensive weapons in the city. The lawmakers' interest in curbing the vendetta was clear: the security was a guarantee that if a man received an injury he would not escalate the con­ flict by responding with a greater offense. Later revisions increased the pressure by making magnates financially responsible for breaches of the peace by their kinsmen. From 1281, the government also created a new popular militia designed for internal peacekeeping. The early statutes were imposed by greater guildsmen, most of them bankers, international merchants, judges, and notaries, who had a strong interest in pacifying the city. The laws were intended to protect the magnates from one an­ other, and the city from their feuds. Who was restricted under the statutes? The guildsmen who wrote the laws apparently knew whom they wanted to include but because of the fluidity of urban society had some difficulty in naming specific criteria for magnate status. The group was called "potentes, nobiles vel magnates," powerful men, nobles or magnates. A law of October 1286 defined them as those houses which had included a knight within the past twenty years, those which popular opinion considered magnate, and those which al-

16

CHAPTER 1

ready posted security as magnates. The question addressed in this study is the meaning and implications of that definition. In the early 1290s, popular pressures led to a brief democratization of the government to include the craft guilds. A long and expensive antiGhibelline war with Pisa and Arezzo led to unpopular reforms of the trea­ sury and tax structure. Fiscal discontent combined with popular outrage over magnate lawlessness. Several chroniclers tell a vivid anecdote. In 1287 a nobleman condemned to death for homicide was literally on his way to execution when he was rescued by a band of noble allies. The podesta reacted to this miscarriage of justice by having the church bell rung with a hammer to summon the militia to carry out the law, "and all the good people of Florence armed themselves and marched to the palace of the podesta, some on horse and some on foot, crying out, 'Justice, jus­ tice!' "24 For a brief period, the lesser guilds were able to force the creation of a more representative government, including priors from the craft guilds. Significantly, the formation of this government also effectively fixed the structure of the Florentine guilds at twenty-one.25 This popular govern­ ment was responsible for the Ordinances of Justice of 1293, which levied severe penalties on magnate families. The Ordinances of Justice marked an important shift of focus: the pri­ mary purpose was not to protect magnates from one another but to end magnate oppression of popolani. Magnates were excluded from most civic offices, including the councils of the commune, the leadership of the guilds, and then from the Priorate itself. Special criminal penalties for magnates convicted of assault or of homicide of popolani were intro­ duced, and the rules of evidence were eased to make conviction easier. The principle of family co-responsibility for crimes was also extended. The Florentine laws restraining the magnates were part of a broad de­ velopment. In the 1280s and 1290s, most Italian communes put in place statutes restricting the nobility. The movement began in Bologna in 1284 and spread rapidly, not only to the larger cities but to smaller towns like Prato and Pistoia. Venice, which did not see a conflict between magnates and popolo, was the exception.26 In Florence, the popular regime had the briefest of existences, and the city returned to rule by an oligarchy based on the greater guilds. The Ordinances of Justice did remain in place, but 24 Giovanni

Villani, Cronica, ed. Magheri (Florence, 1823), book 7, chap. 114. On the constitutional developments in this period, see John Najemy, Corporatism and Consensus in Florentine Electoral Politics 1280—1400 (Chapel Hill, N.C., 1982). 26 See G. Fasoli, "Ricerche sulla legislazione antimagnatizia nei comuni dell'alta e media Italia," Kivista di storia del diritto italiano 12 (1939). On the relations between nobles and commoners as a source of Venetian stability, see Dennis Romano, Patricians and Popolani: The Social Foundations of the Venetian Renaissance State (Baltimore, 1987). 25

THE MEDIEVAL FLORENTINE NOBLES

17

were enforced only mildly. The end of the century saw a final outburst of factionalism in the conflict between Blacks and Whites.27 The transformation of the city of Florence in the thirteenth century was expressed by the radical alteration of its physical shape. By 1300, the old city within the ancient walls—the cluster of wooden houses, private tow­ ers, and parish churches—was almost completely gone, destroyed by fire and civil war. The profile of the city was transformed: the surviving tow­ ers were cut back to twenty-nine meters and dwarfed by the huge insti­ tutional buildings that gave shape to the city, as Figure 1.1 suggests. These included two large palaces built to house the civic government, a substantial new prison, the guild palaces, the vast convents of the men­ dicant orders, and the foundations of the ambitious new cathedral.28 A final set of walls was under construction, with every Florentine required to leave a small sum in his or her will toward that effort. The twelfthcentury walls had enclosed 200 acres; the set projected in 1284, 1,500 acres. In effect, the old city dominated by the towers of the nobles was replaced by a new corporate and institutional order, expressed in monu­ mental stone buildings.

The Scholarship on the Magnates There has been an extended debate not only among historians of Florence but among historians of northern Italy more generally over the social makeup of the magnates and the significance of their conflict with the popolani. The terms of the debate were set by a work on the Florentine magnates published in 1899 by Gaetano Salvemini. Salvemini, a young socialist historian, was the first scholar to see medieval Florentine politi­ cal events as rooted in social and economic change. For Salvemini, the conflict between magnati and popolani was "a necessary and even math­ ematical result of demographic and economic growth."29 As the city ex­ panded, it became imperative that it control the countryside, as the source of raw materials and foodstuffs. Thus, historical materialism led Salve­ mini to see the struggle between city and countryside as the real force 27 The statutes were printed in an appendix by Salvemini in his Magnati e popolani, but are not included in the 1960 reprint. Thus references to the appendix are necessarily to the original edition of 1899. On the laxity of the enforcement of the statutes, see Μ. B. Becker, "A Study in Political Failure: The Florentine Magnates, 1280—1343," Mediaeval Studies 27 (1965): 246-308. 28 On the rise of the mendicant orders in Florence, see Daniel Lesnick, Medieval Florence: The Social World of Franciscan and Dominican Spirituality (Athens, Ga., 1989). 29 G. Salvemini, Magnati e popolani, p. 40. For an assessment of Salvemini, see the preface to this work by E. Sestan; for a brief biographical sketch, see Iris Origo, A Need to Testify (San Diego, 1984).

18

CHAPTER 1

behind political events, and to see as the focus of that struggle the conflict between magnati and popolani. Salvemini also wrote a laureate thesis on Florentine knighthood, and thus was sensitive to the mixed social origins of the magnates. He de­ picted them not as a uniform class but as a group composed of two ele­ ments, the old nobility, and the "magnati per accidenti," rich industrial­ ists and merchants who had adopted the aristocratic style and point of view. Even so, Salvemini argued, the conflict was ultimately between pro­ ducers and consumers: rural landowners versus city dwellers and manu­ facturers, urban property owners versus their tenants. The dispute also involved the traditional exemption of the nobility from taxation, though it found its focus in debates over communal laws governing the grain trade. Essentially, Salvemini tells us, the magnates as producers stood in the way of real accumulation of capital. Salvemini was refuted in the mid-1920s by the Russian archival scholar, Nicola Ottokar. For Ottokar, Salvemini's materialism led to a mechanical, simplistic interpretation. Ottokar instead stressed the overall homogeneity of the Florentine oligarchy and the local particularism of each political dispute. Two fine pieces of archival scholarship are at the center of his argument, a family-by-family survey of the patriciate, stress­ ing the similarities between magnate and grandi popolani, and a detailed reconstruction of political events. Ottokar offered no schema to replace Salvemini's materialism. He seems to have looked to a synthetic interpretation but not to have arrived at one. As Ernesto Sestan wrote in an essay on Ottokar, his approach was "giuridico-politica"; that is, he described a particular juridical situation under the pressure of political forces. "But to what impulses do these political forces respond? Here lies the limit of Ottokar."30 Historical ac­ tors are moved only by the necessity of the moment. Sestan tells us that Salvemini accepted Ottokar's criticisms of his work as largely correct— but yet felt that his thesis still held. This was the paradigmatic debate on thirteenth-century Florence. De­ spite its limitations, an Ottokarian view of late thirteenth-century politics as static has generally prevailed among historians.31 Most recently, 30 E. Sestan, introduction to Il comune di Firenze alia fine del Dugento by N. Ottokar (Florence, 1926; reprint, Turin, 1962), p. xv. See Ottokar's "II problema della formazione coraunale," Questioni di storia medievale (Como and Milan, 1946) for his interest in a synthetic interpretation. 31 Nicolai Rubinstein in the 1930s suggested a broader cultural approach, arguing that the magnates were a social group addicted to private violence and posing a threat to public order. Rubinstein set the Ordinances in the context of broader European efforts to restrict the nobility from their traditional recourse to private justice and the vendetta, a stage in the growth of the authority of the state. See N. Rubinstein, "La prima legge sul 'sodamento' e la pace del Card. Latino," Archivio storico italiano 2 (1935): 161—72; and La lotta contro

THE MEDIEVAL FLORENTINE NOBLES

19

George Holmes has concluded that the class structure of Florentine gov­ ernment "probably did not change very much.. . . We should imagine the ruling groups as changing very gradually in character rather than as changed suddenly by constitutional innovation."32 One aspect of this problem has received considerable attention: the so­ cial background of the families responsible for Italian economic innova­ tion. Enrico Fiumi in the 1950s responded to Werner Sombart's critique of the idea of the capitalist origins of Italian urban growth. Fiumi sur­ veyed the social origins of the major thirteenth-century Florentine patri­ cian families, demonstrating that the majority had urban and commercial backgrounds, and that noble titles and estates were often recent acquisi­ tions. Attacking Plesner, Fiumi argued for a marked distinction between the feudal nobility and the urban aristocracy: the nobility and the borghesia did not fuse. The leading men both in Florentine commerce and in the arts were of recent origins, products of the social mobility of the twelfth and thirteenth centuries.33 Most scholarship on the general issue of the relationship between me­ dieval city and countryside has supported Plesner rather than Fiumi. As A. B. Hibbert pointed out in a 1978 essay, the new model depicts the city as a natural development from "feudal interests": the initial force behind urban growth was a patriciate of aristocratic and feudal origins. The later merchant patriciate, then, was formed in two ways, through social mo­ bility, and through the internal transformation of the older patriciate in response to commercial growth.34 This emphasis on the role of the rural nobility within the cities has been i magnati in Firenze (Florence, 1939). Rubinstein was attacked from an Ottokarian point of view by D. Cavalca, in "II ceto magnatizio a Firenze dopo gli Ordinamenti di Giustizia," Rivista di storia del diritto italiano 40—41 (1967—68): 85—132. Rubinstein's view influenced E. Cristiani, Nobilta e popolo nel comune di Pisa dalle origini del podestariato alia Signoria del Donoratico (Naples, 1962). More recently, Giovanni Tabacco has argued forcefully that the conflict between magnati and popolani, despite its complexity, was in essence a struggle between classes. See Tabacco, Egemonie sociali e strutture del potere nel Medioevo italiano (1979), trans. R. B. Jensen as The Struggle for Power in Medieval Italy: Structures of Polit­ ical Rule (Cambridge, 1989), esp. pp. 224—36. 32 George Holmes, Florence, Rome and the Origins of the Renaissance (Oxford, 1986), p. 29. 33 E. Fiumi, "Fioritura e decadenza dell'economia fiorentina," Archivio storico italiano 115 (1957): 385-439; 116 (1958): 443-510; 117 (1959): 427-502. 34 A. B. Hibbert, "The Origins of the Medieval Town Patriciate". For medieval Tuscany, it is not appropriate to identify rural landowning interests with feudal interests. For a careful survey of the actual extent of feudal ties, including both vassalage and the benefice, and juridical lordship, see Paolo Cammarosano, "Feudo e proprieta nel medioevo toscano," Nobilta e ceti dirigenti in Toscana nei secoli XI—XIII: strutture e concetti, Comitato di studi sulla storia dei ceti dirigenti in Toscana, Atti del iv convegno, 12 dicembre 1981 (Florence, 1982), pp. 1-12.

20

CHAPTER 1

given its strongest form by Philip Jones. Like Fiumi, Jones denies their absorption into the borghesia. He goes on, however, to suggest that in the Italian cities, popular or merchant rule was ephemeral; overall, Renais­ sance cities were dominated by the landed nobility and by rural economic interests. Essentially, Jones argues, there were fluctuations but no sub­ stantial changes in the political organization of the Italian cities through­ out the medieval and early modern periods.35 Ottokar's static portrait of the makeup of the late thirteenth-century Florentine ruling class was seriously challenged in 1978. With meticulous archival research, four scholars at the medieval history seminar of the University of Florence traced the incidence of members of the main patri­ cian families in the four regimes of the late Dugento.36 To some extent, those families were also identified by economic interests. The scholars, Daniela Medici in particular, attacked Ottokar's denial of any important change in the governing patriciate. They suggested instead that the fami­ lies named as magnates generally were in power up to 1280 and out of power with the institution of the Priorate. Patrizia Parenti wrote, "It is a certainty that the second half of the thirteenth century in Florence can be considered a period of the crisis and decline of an old aristocracy, and that a new ruling class progressively substituted themselves, first by infil­ tration, then by openly fighting."37 This transition within the ruling class was clearly demonstrated, though, perhaps because of the limitations of the laureate thesis form, the authors did not explain the causes of the transition. In effect, research on the medieval Florentine magnates has for the most part remained within the framework established by Salvemini. The evi­ dence for their individual political roles and their economic backgrounds has been systematically studied, and their lack of identity as a socioeco­ nomic class has been firmly demonstrated. Recently scholars challenging Ottokar have shown that the late Dugento did see the removal of an older elite from power, but have not fully explained the transition.38 35 P. Jones, "Economia e societa nell'Italia medievale: la leggenda della borghesia," Storia d' Italia, Annali 1 (1978): 187—361; "Communes and Despots: The City-state in Late Me­ dieval Italy," Transactions of the Royal Historical Society 5, no. 15 (1965): 71—96. 36 S. Raveggi, M. Tarassi, D. Medici, and P. Parenti, Ghibellini, Guelfi e Popolo Grasso: I detentori del potere politico a Firenze nella seconda meta del Dugento (Florence, 1978). The work is based on the authors' tesi di laurea, written under the supervision of Elio Conti. 37 P. Parenti, "Dagli Ordinamenti di Giustizia alle Lotte tra Bianchi e Neri," Ghibellini, Guelfi, e Popolo Grasso, p. 295. 38 John Najemy has pointed out that American scholarship on the Italian republics has been dominated by a "consensus school," which has emphasized the role of the political culture and values of the elite, but which has failed to come to terms with the roots of political conflict. See Najemy's review of William Bowsky, A Medieval Italian Commune: Siena under the Nine, 1287—1355 in Speculum 58, no. 4 (October 1983): 1029—33.

THE MEDIEVAL FLORENTINE NOBLES

21

This study returns to the problem from a new perspective. It is not intended to supersede older studies, and in particular the work of Raveggi and his coauthors, but rather to complement them. The study is based on the conviction that the social definition of the magnates is best under­ stood in thirteenth-century rather than twentieth-century terms.39 Un­ locking the implications of the late thirteenth-century view of the mag­ nates requires not a narrow focus on economic interests or factional ties but a broader approach. Contemporaries spoke of the magnates as lin­ eages that used family palaces and towers to pursue vendettas and fac­ tional war. They abused church property, they celebrated knighthood, they oppressed the popolo and threatened the common good. This study explores these central elements of magnate culture, as defined by their contemporaries, moving from patterns of family structure to knighthood, violence, and political faction.40 The view proposed here is that the twelfth and thirteenth-century pa­ triciate did react to urban life by reinforcing patrilineal ties. Rising fami­ lies used strong patrilineal alliances as a social, political, and military strategy. The patrilineage was reinforced through a new exclusion of women, not only from inheritance but even from full membership in the lineage. The strategy enabled families to hold crucial resources as joint property, including urban forts, networks of clientage, and lucrative and prestigious ecclesiastical patronage rights. Families used these properties to attempt to dominate their neighborhoods and, through networks of political and military alliance, to control civic offices as well. The cost of family solidarity was high. It rested on an unstable base: the exclusion of women and the restriction of young men from adult eco­ nomic and familial roles. The lineage itself was a contradictory structure, demanding of its members unity of action without an underlying unity of interests. This combined with the blurring of public and private concerns, the close association of kinship and political alliance, and noble reliance on private military force to create a volatile culture that fostered violence and civil war. In this sense, the restriction of the magnates in the Ordi­ nances of Justice was a symbol of their own political self-destruction. The Ordinances of Justice also marked a fundamental shift in power. Social and economic growth had led to the formation of popular associ­ ations and guilds. By the 1290s, these corporate associations were firmly 39 For a recent theoretical discussion of the relations between textual criticism and histor­ ical study, arguing from the view that texts (or documents) should be understood as "situ­ ated uses of language," see GabrieIIe Spiegel, "History, Historicism and the Social Logic of the Text in the Middle Ages," Speculum 65, no. 1 (January 1990): 59—86. 40 For a recent assertion of the importance of the role of the family for an analysis of Italian factional conflict, see B. Diefendorf, "Family Culture, Renaissance Culture," Renais­ sance Quarterly 40, no. 4 (Winter 1987): 681.

22

CHAPTER 1

in power and able to impose sanctions on the magnates. The laws that defined and restricted the magnates thus served to define and legitimize the new political order. The laws also looked back to an earlier era: by the 1290s magnate individuals and families were reacting to change by gradually turning away from the more restrictive aspects of the patrilineage. The first half of this study examines the patrilineage and its joint prop­ erty, including urban palaces and forts and ecclesiastical patronage rights, and the nature and ramifications of the exclusion of women. The second half of the work then turns to the contemporary definition of the mag­ nates, using that definition to reconstruct the social and political roles of these families within the thirteenth-century commune. In particular, it treats knighthood and the military, political factionalism, and the exis­ tence of an aristocratic youth culture as major sources of urban violence. Finally, the study returns to the rise of the popular and guild-based re­ gimes and the statutes which both defined and restricted the class of mag­ nates. Those efforts are set in the wider context of contemporary debate over the true nature of nobility.

The Sources The study draws on the rich variety of sources surviving in the Florentine archives. A handful of narratives—including two short accounts written by magnates, the Annali of Simone della Tosa and the Cronichetta of Neri Strinati—describe thirteenth-century Florentine events. Chronicles in­ clude the works of the "Pseudo-Brunetto Latini," Dino Compagni, Gio­ vanni Villani, and Ricordano Malispini.41 All these accounts are to some degree retrospective. They do not describe the nobles of the late twelfth century in late twelfth-century terms. The chronicles do offer a clear view 41 For a discussion of all these works, see Antoine Monti, "Les chroniques florentines de la premiere revoke populaire a la fin de la commune (1345—1435)" (these, University of Paris, 1979). The actual dates of the composition of two of these chronicles have been chal­ lenged; see P. Scheffer-Boichorst, Florentiner Studien (Leipzig, 1874). A number of scholars argued on textual grounds that the supposedly late thirteenth-century Storia fiorentina of Malispini was in fact a late fourteenth-century compilation. For the most recent discussion, see C. T. Davis, Dante's Italy and Other Essays (Philadelphia, 1984), which includes an appendix summarizing recent debate. Dino Compagni's chronicle is purportedly an eyewit­ ness account of the Black-White civil war, and nineteenth-century scholars doubted its au­ thenticity because of the many factual errors in the text. Most historians would agree that those doubts were laid to rest by the exhaustive documentation of the text in I. del Lungo, Dino Compagni e la sua cronica (Florence, 1878-1887), though O. Hartwig expressed lin­ gering doubts in "La question de Dino Compagni," Revue historique (1881), pp. 64—89.

T H E MEDIEVAL F L O R E N T I N E N O B L E S

23

of noble culture as it was understood at the end of the Dugento and in the early decades of the fourteenth century. Direct sources include a substantial portion of the records of the Flor­ entine government, not only the provisions, termed the Provvisioni, but the records of council meetings, termed the Consulte.42 Florence also has a number of invaluable lists of the men exiled for their factional loyalties, including the Liber Extimationum and the Libro del Chiodo. These polit­ ical texts have provided the major evidence for the debate over the nature of the division between magnati and popolani, and have been minutely studied by a number of researchers. It would be foolish to try to improve on their scholarship and to return to this question of the precise involve­ ment of members of the magnate lineages in the regimes of the late Dugento. Instead, I attempt here a broader social portrait of the lineages re­ stricted under the statutes. For this purpose, the bulk of the evidence comes from notarial records. A brief description of the nature—and lim­ itations—of these documents will clarify the scope of this study. In me­ dieval Florence, as in other north Italian cities, when a person needed a public, legal record of a transaction, he or she went to a notary. The no­ tary wrote up the contract, perhaps first scribbling a rough draft and then entering the contract in somewhat abbreviated form in his cartulary or notebook, termed the imbreviature or protocolla. Finally, he might write up separate copies for the parties involved. By the thirteenth century these were not always necessary: the cartulary entry alone was sufficient evi­ dence of the contract, and, if needed, parchment copies or instrumenta could always be redacted later.43 Twenty-four notarial cartularies survive from thirteenth-century Flor­ ence, representing about thirty-seven notaries.44 The oldest is a fragmen­ tary cartulary dating from 1237-1238, which was bound with another volume from 1290-1293.45 The surviving works are only a fraction of 42 Le consulte della repubblica fiorentina dall'anno MCCLXXX al MCCXCVHI, ed. A. Gherardi, 2 vols. (Florence, 1896—1898). 43 See the description of the medieval Italian notaries in David Herlihy, Pisa in the Early Renaissance (New Haven, 1958), chap. 1. On the uses of notarial records in historical re­ search, see Diane Hughes, "Towards Historical Ethnography: Notarial Records and Family History in the Middle Ages," Historical Methods Newsletter 1, no. 2 (1973—74): 61—71. 44 A list of thirteenth-century cartularies is included in the bibliography. The communal government intervened to ensure the survival of cartularies beginning in the thirteenth cen­ tury: see A. Pannella, "Le origini dell'archivio notarile di Firenze," Archivio storico italiano 92 (1934): 57—92. For full lists of the notaries and collections of the Diplomatico, see F. Sznura, L'espansione, pp. 149—50. 45 This has recently been edited: Palmerio di Corbizo da Uglione notaio, Imbreviature, 1237—1238, ed. Luciana Mosiici and Franek Sznura, in Fonti di storia toscana, vol. 2 (Flor­ ence, 1982).

24

CHAPTER 1

the original number, as there are thought to have been about six hundred notaries practicing in Florence by the end of the thirteenth century. Old cartularies were valuable not only as legal records, but also as a continu­ ing source of income for the notary who owned them, because a need might arise for copies of contracts already recorded in them. The books are now housed in a separate collection in the state archives. Loose parch­ ments, the instrumenta, also survive in fairly large numbers and are gath­ ered in the Diplomatico, ordered by the collection from which they came to the Florentine state archives and then by date. In the case of notarial cartularies, the documents preserved are more or less random: any records written up by that notary are included. Of course, notaries often worked in particular neighborhoods, and might be somewhat specialized. Opizzo da Pontremole, a well-known notary of this period, worked near Santa Croce and recorded a great many wills made by Franciscan tertiaries; it may be that his cartulary was preserved as a result. Loose parchments were generally preserved in ecclesiastical collections or, more rarely, in family archives.46 In this case, preservation was selec­ tive. Churches, for example, kept parchments that established their claims to their assets and prerogatives: wills with bequests, purchases of property, donations, records of legal fights. Some kinds of parchments were not carefully preserved and survive only by accident. Tower society records and peace pacts, apparently uninteresting to later centuries, often survive only because they were written on large parchments that were reused as book covers in the Renaissance. The surviving texts must con­ stitute only a tiny and unrepresentative fraction of the original body of records.47 46 Loose parchments are catalogued in the Diplomatico by source and date. The medieval Florentine system of dating differed from the common style in that the year changed not on 1 January but on the feast of the Incarnation, or 25 March. To avoid confusion in archival citations, when dates fall between 1 January and 25 March, I have given both the Florentine and the common style, e.g., January 2 1290/1. 47 Identifying people within these documents can be problematic, although Latin notarial documents usually identified people by their given names, patronymics, surnames if they had them, titles if they had them, and often by their parish as well. Sometimes, more than one patronymic was given, particularly for the nobility. If a person's father was dead that was noted; if he was emancipated that was included. The name of a woman's husband, living or dead, was also mentioned. Despite this care, a number of factors can hinder iden­ tification, including the common tendency to baptize children with the names of recently dead family members. The spelling of names varies radically: the notary after all was trans­ lating the Italian names of his illiterate customers into Latin. Most important for this study, both patronymics and surnames were given in the genitive case, which can create confusion: was "Johannes Donati" a member of the Donati lineage or the son of a Donato? I have translated names into the more familiar Italian when those translations are obvious. How­ ever, an enormous variety of names existed in the thirteenth century, as David Herlihy has

THE MEDIEVAL FLORENTINE NOBLES

25

These sources contain a range of transactions, as whenever people needed a legal, permanent contract, they went to a notary. Few notaries of the period seem to have specialized, and the contracts usually appear in the cartularies simply in chronological order. The bulk of the entries concern loans and the purchase or rental of property. They also include marriage settlements, minor peace pacts, wills, estate inventories, and emancipations. The loose parchments in the Diplomatico offer an even wider range, including texts like fragments from otherwise-destroyed court records, and the large peace pacts and tower society pacts preserved as book covers. Thus Dugento notarial documents offer a lively variety of evidence, though because of their haphazard quality they do not easily lend themselves to quantification. There are also rich narrative sources for thirteenth-century Florence, including not only chronicles but popular stories, saints' lives, and poetry. Terminology for the social categories discussed in this study presents an awkward problem. Medieval Florentine society was fluid, and the boundaries between social groups were often unfixed. It is notorious, for example, that some families prominent in the Primo Popolo in the 1250s were named as magnates forty years later: Are they best understood as magnati or popolani? Many terms are too specific, implying a set of as­ sumptions about social origins or economic interests that may or may not be correct. Again, the study as far as possible avoids this problem by fol­ lowing late thirteenth-century usages. This means that the magnates are referred to as nobles despite the con­ siderable differences between those whose families held titles from out­ side powers, those whose titles derived from the commune, and those who were "noble" simply by virtue of their inclusion in the statutes. A number of historians have argued that the magnates were not a genuine nobility.48 Nevertheless, it seems inappropriate to create an external def­ inition of "true nobility," even one drawn from northern Europe of the same period, and then impose it on medieval Florentine realities. There was in fact a distinctive—though often parvenu—urban nobility in merecently shown, and translations are often problematic. In those cases I have left names in the original language. See Herlihy, "Tuscan Names, 1200-1530," Renaissance Quarterly 41, no. 4 (Winter 1988): 561-82. 48 See, for example, the recent discussion by Franco Cardini, " 'Nobilta' e cavalleria nei centri urbani: Problemi e interpretazioni," Nobilta e ceti dirigenti in Toscana nei secoli XIXIII: strutture e concetti (Florence, 1982), pp. 13—28; G. Rossetti, "Histoire familiale et structures sociales," Famille et parente dans I'Occident medieval, ed. G. Duby and J. LeGoff, Collection de l'Ecole Frangaise de Rome 30 (1977), pp. 158—80; G. Tabacco, "Nobili e cavalieri a Bologna e Firenze fra xn e xm secolo," Studi medievali 3, no. 17 (1976): 41— 79. Gina Fasoli in "Citta e feudalita," Structures feodales et feodalisme dans I'Occident mediterraneen, Xe—XIIIe siecles: bilan et perspectives de recberches, Ecole Frangaise de Rome (1980), p. 366, recommends terms like "maggiorenti, notabili, persone in vista."

26

CHAPTER 1

dieval Florence. Thus these families have been called nobles regardless of the origins of their status. "Magnate," then, refers specifically to families named in the statutes. Grandi popolani were wealthy or powerful families who were not mag­ nate. They were also unkindly called the popolo grasso, literally the fat people. The popolo was a larger group, including both grandi popolani and families from lower social levels, the popolo minuto. Finally, the term patriciate, despite the anachronism, has been used to refer loosely but conveniently to the larger group of wealthy and important Florentines that included both magnati and grandi popolani.

PART ONE THE LINEAGE

THE FORMATION OF URBAN LINEAGES

B

EYOND THE household, two distinct patterns of family structure were characteristic of medieval Florence, as they were of Mediter­ ranean Europe. These were the kindred and the lineage. The most enduring was the kindred, a flexible and impermanent structure based on a conjugal couple. In the kindred, as Randolph Trumbach has written, "each individual . .. stood at the center of a unique circle of kinsmen connected to him through both mother and father and through his spouse."1 Family identity was imprecise: a man's relations were not only his consanguinei but his propinquii, including relatives by marriage as well as blood. Which relations were stressed could depend on individual circumstance: if the maternal line was particularly wealthy or powerful, these relations might well be viewed as the closest or most important kin. Kindreds were the characteristic form of European family structure out­ side the household throughout the premodern period. They existed both in town and countryside, and at all social levels.2 The lineage, by contrast, was adopted only by propertied families, and only at distinct times. This was a structure termed by anthropologists the patrilineal descent group, an extended family identified by a surname. Membership was based on an unbroken line of shared male ancestors, usually traced back to an illustrious and perhaps fictitious founder. Lin­ eages were strictly limited to the male line. A woman belonged to her father's lineage, but her children did not. A man's sons, however, took the surname even if they were illegitimate. In practice, a lineage would be a collection of people—brothers, uncles, cousins—who considered them­ selves united by shared ancestry, traced through the male line. Although scholars have agreed on the presence of large extended kin groups in the medieval Italian towns, they have disagreed on the exact nature of these families. This disagreement has found its focus in termi­ nology: should these groups be called clans, consorterie, or lineages? Each term implies a distinct type of structure and function. In the thir-

1 R. Trumbach, The Rise of the Egalitarian Family (New York, 1978), Introduction. Trumbach suggests that European families from the medieval period alternated between cognatic and patrilineal principles. 2 For a recent study that emphasizes the manipulability of the kindred, see Eleanor Searle, Predatory Kinship and the Creation of Norman Power, 840—1066 (Berkeley, Calif., 1988), esp. chap. 14.

30

CHAPTER 2

teenth century, these terms were used in explicit contexts. A Florentine's bequest to the members of his lineage, for example, was made to "suis consortibus et consanguineis de stirpe Abatum," his associates and blood relatives of the Abati stock, or, more literally, from the Abati root.3 How­ ever, modern usage of these terms—sometimes out of context—can be misleading. The term consorteria reflects the common use in the thir­ teenth century of consortes to refer to kinsmen. However, the word is ambiguous: in classical Latin, it connoted partnership in shared property and, by extension, kinship. This has led to some misunderstanding, as when tower societies—groups of unrelated shareholders, sometimes termed consorterie—were thought to be kin groups. Christiane KlapischZuber and David Herlihy attempted to resolve this problem by defining a consorteria as a group of co-heirs, who might or might not be related. However, this again leaves open the possibility of misinterpretation, since some groups might be called consortes in the thirteenth century but not actually share any property. Dante, for example, used the word to refer to friends, neighbors, and allies.4 The term was certainly used to indicate kinsmen with shared property. Neri Strinati even mentioned selling a share of property to kinsmen "per buona consorteria."5 However, be­ cause of the ambiguity of the term—sometimes indicating unrelated shareholders, sometimes kinsmen—it has been avoided here.6 Unfortunately, the term "lineage" is also an awkward one, suggesting a genealogical hierarchy of authority.7 A real lineage was more apt to be a collection of uncles, brothers, cousins, and more distant relations, with no single obvious family head. "Lineage" is used here despite this draw­ back in order to distinguish these families from clans, a very different type of organization. This is a distinction set forth by the anthropologist Paul Kirchof in 1955. He argued that a lineage is a descent group able to re­ count its genealogy and aware of the exact family relations among its 3

ASF, Diplomatico, Santa Maria Novella, 9 febbraio 1300/1. these issues of terminology, see F. W. Kent, Household and Lineage, pp. 5—10, and D. Herlihy and C. Klapisch, Les Toscans et leurs families (Paris, 1978), p. 534. For the argument that a consortium could be an artificial kin group, motivated by joint property ownership, see G. Tabacco, "Le rapport de parente comme instrument de domination consortiale: quelques exemples Piemontais," Famille et parente, p. 156. 5 Neri Strinati, "Cronichetta" (Florence, 1753), pp. 107-8. 6 A related problem is the interpretation of references to property owned by the filii Z or heredes X, which Herlihy treated as evidence of a "consortial household," an interpretation criticized by Cammarosano and Violante. See D. Herlihy, "Family Solidarity"; P. Cammarosano, "Les structures familiales," p. 191; and C. Violante, "Quelques caracteristiques des structures familiales en Lombardie, Emilie et Toscane aux xie et Xile siecles," in Famille et parente, pp. 87—147. 7 See the comments of M. Bullard in "Marriage, Politics and the Family in Florence," American Historical Review 84, no. 3 (June 1979): 670. 4 On

THE FORMATION OF URBAN LINEAGES

31

members. A clan, by contrast, does not know its full ancestry and is based on putative kinship, in practice simply including the children of clan members.8 Kirchof's distinction can be accepted with one qualification. For an his­ torian, a definition of the lineage that is based on the members' actual knowledge of their ancestry is unworkable. Actual knowledge of ancestry is often irrecoverable and certainly to some extent accidental. In 1300, a few Florentine lineages were as much as two centuries old and contained more than fifty members.9 At some point, they must have lost track of their precise interrelationships, but it would be odd to argue that at that unknown moment they were transformed into clans. The distinction is more useful, then, if the lineage is defined as a descent group structured in terms of kin relations. A large lineage was broken up into branches or segments, each in itself a lineage; an individual viewed each of his kinsmen very differently, depending on their distance from his immediate branch of the lineage. This contrasts with a clan, which was at least in theory an unarticulated group of kinsmen. The best example is an artificial kin group like the Genoese albergo.10 On this basis, the Floren­ tine groups were clearly lineages: their internal structure of kin relations was crucial to the way they operated.

The Origins of the Lineage In medieval Italy, lineages were of recent historical origins, probably dat­ ing only from the eleventh century. The Carolingian and early medieval aristocracy was a small social group for whom the lineage form would have been too restrictive. Members of this narrow class defined them­ selves loosely as nobiles, and viewed the rarified quality of nobility as descending in the male or the female line, whichever best suited their im­ mediate need to transmit a title and estate. In effect, they acted as kin­ dreds rather than as lineages.11 When the lineage began to appear in Italy, 8 Paul Kirchhof, "The Principles of Clanship in Human Society," Davidson Journal of Anthropology 1 (1955): 1-10. 9 The best example is the Visdomini lineage, whose branches in the thirteenth century included the della Tosa and the Aliotti. They held patronage rights to San Michele Visdomini, and a list of patrons from 1301 includes fifty-six male adults: ASF, Diplomatico Riformagioni, 6 dicembre 1301. 10 Concise discussions of these problems of terminology appear in two reviews of Jacques Heers, Le clan familial au moyen age (Paris, 1974): F. W. Kent in the journal of Family History 2 (1977): 77—86, and R. Wheaton in Speculum 52 (1977): 378—80. The Genoese alberghi are described by Diane Hughes, "Urban Growth," pp. 27—28. 11 This view is argued by Georges Duby in "Structure de parente et noblesse, France du nord, xie-xiie siecles," Miscellanea mediaevalia in memoriam Jan Frederik Niermeyer

32

CHAPTER 2

after the millennium, it was not a replacement of the kindred but rather an overlay. Families lived on a day-to-day basis as kindreds, but in some situations would act on patrilineal principles, most importantly in passing on property. Recent research suggests that lineage consolidation took place in two stages.12 From around 1000, families of the upper nobility began to act as dynasties, transmitting the family patrimony and identity through the male line. Typically, these families consolidated around their possession of a public office and title, perhaps count or marquis, or around their possession of rights over church property. Often, this took the form of the foundation of a family monastery.13 Lands donated to a monastery were better protected from fragmentation and alienation, yet still under family control. This pattern helps to explain the new agnatic emphasis within these families: ecclesiastical patronage rights generally were handed down through the male line alone. This conflicted with the Ger­ manic tradition, in which a portion of a household's goods went to the wife, and tended to reinforce principles of agnation and the strict exclu­ sion of the female line.14 The link between the foundation of a monastery and reinforcement of the agnatic line was sometimes explicit. When a widow and her two sons in 1001 founded the convent of San Salvatore all'Isola, near Siena, they did so with the express provision that dominion over the monastery could not pass to their wives, to their daughters, or to any women: "power and dominion in the appointment of the abbot elected by the brothers can only pass to those who are our legitimate children of the male sex, in perpetuity."15 (Groningen, 1967), p. 164. For a discussion of the Carolingian and early medieval idea of nobility, see Jane Martindale, "The French Aristocracy in the Early Middle Ages: A Reap­ praisal," Past and Present 75 (1977): 5—45. 12 There is a large and valuable new body of research on the medieval Tuscan nobility, much of it appearing in the publications of the Comitato di studi sulla storia dei ceti dirigenti in Toscana. For a general survey, see C. Violante, "Le strutture familiari, parentali, e consortili delle aristocrazie in Toscana durante i secoli x-χιι," I ceti dirigenti in Toscana nell'eta precomunale (Pisa, 1981), pp. 1—57, together with the more specialized articles in the vol­ ume. Scholarship on the lineage owes much to work on the German nobility, especially that of K. Schmid; see the essays collected in T. Reuter, The Medieval Nobility: Studies on the Ruling Classes of France and Germany from the Sixth to the Twelfth Centuries (Amster­ dam, 1979). 13 W. Kurze, "Nobilta toscana e nobilta aretina," I ceti dirigenti in Toscana nell'eta pre­ comunale, pp. 257—65. 14 This is a point made by Cammarosano in "Les structures familiales dans Ies villes de l'ltalie communale (xne-xive siecles)," Famille etparente, pp. 181-94. 15 "Remota tamen ab ipsa sancto monasterio uxorum et filiarum nostrarum ac proheredum nostrarum, atque omnium feminarum sublata dominatione: nam potestatem atque dominationem in ordinando abbate qui a fratribus fuerit electus decerninus et statuimus

THE FORMATION OF URBAN LINEAGES

33

These possessions promoted a new genealogical sense: the idea of the family as a permanent institution, existing beyond the lifetime of any in­ dividual. It is striking that the founders of San Salvatore all'Isola confi­ dently assumed that their line would persist in sempiternum. However, in this period families emphasized a single vertical line of descent. As a result, scholars have termed them dynastic lineages to dif­ ferentiate them from true patrilineal descent groups.16 The family consti­ tuted a narrow male line, with an undivided patrimony. They lacked sur­ names and expressed family identity through the repetition of given names, naming the eldest son after his grandfather. The Guidi, for ex­ ample, alternated the names Tegrimo and Guido, and the Berardenghi, Ranieri and Berardo.17 Why did these families consolidate as dynastic lineages? The simplest answer is inheritance strategy. Georges Duby, studying the appearance of lineage ties among the rural nobles of Macon, argued that the dynastic lineage arrested a process of fragmentation. Duby found that the cohe­ sion of aristocratic patrimonies was threatened in the eleventh century by inheritance customs and by economically independent individuals. Ulti­ mately, he argues, this fragmentation threatened the group's superior so­ cial position. The new emphasis on the lineage slowed this process of fragmentation: in practice, the eldest son's branch was often favored, and younger sons were restricted from marriage.18 atque firmamus posse umquam venire nisi in his qui de nobis masculini sexus legitimi nati fuerint, usque in sempiternum." The text is published by P. Cammarosano in "La nobilta del Senese dal secolo vm agli inizi del secolo xm," Bolletino senese di storia patria 86 (1979): Appendix, n. 1, pp. 37-40. See also W. Kurze, "Der Adel und das Kloster S. SaIvatore all'Isola in 11. und 12. Jahrhundert," Quellen und Forschungen aus italienischen Archiven und Bibliotheken 47 (1967): 446—573. The text is quoted by Violante in "Le strutture familiari," pp. 11—12n. 16 This is a distinction suggested by Jack Goody. He points out that medieval noble "houses" like those in Macon studied by Georges Duby were not branching lineages (or descent groups), but rather "narrow agnatic lines of filiation." Goody terms these houses "lignages," a coinage that seems to me to invite confusion. See J. Goody, The Development of the Family and Marriage in Europe (Cambridge, 1983), appendix 1, pp. 222—39. David HerIihy on these grounds distinguishes between two types of lineages: consortial, in which all male heirs received a share of a divisible patrimony, and dynastic, in which a single heir, representing the senior branch, is preferred and other cadet branches are postponed; see D. Herlihy, Medieval Households (Cambridge, Mass., 1985), pp. 82—98. The two types of families described here fall between these two extremes. 17 On the Guidi, see Yoram Milo, "Political Opportunism in Guidi Tuscan Policy," 1 ceti dirigenti in Toscana nell'eta precomunale, pp. 207—221; and on the Berardenghi, P. Cammarosano, La famiglia dei Berardenghi. Contributo alia storia della societa senese net secoli XI-Xlll (Spoleto, 1974). Violante prints genealogical charts summarizing their findings in "Le strutture familiari," pp. 52—57. 18 G. Duby, "Lignage, noblesse et chevalerie au xne siecle dans la region maconnaise: Une revision," Annates: E.S.C. (July-October 1972), reprinted in The Chivalrous Society, trans.

34

CHAPTER 2

In Italy, the threat to noble patrimonies came from competitors, chiefly the rising cities and growing episcopal power.19 Thus while the French rural nobles studied by Duby continued to act as dynastic lineages, in Italy precocious social and economic growth led to a second stage, the branching out of these families into patrilineal descent groups. Dynastic lineages like those studied by Duby emphasized a narrow line of descent, often cutting off younger sons from marriage. The Italian patrilineal de­ scent groups by contrast probably did not restrict their sons from mar­ riage, but rather redefined the family as a permanent institution including all male descendants. In Italy, the families adopting this strategy often did not derive from the older nobility. From the tenth century, many of the great northern Italian estates were broken up, particularly church lands. As these large holdings were fragmented, a middle-level landholding class gradually emerged. This group was large in numbers and held fairly small estates, perhaps a few farms. This large new social group has been considered a major source of cultural change, and they are thought to have initiated the lineage and the use of surnames. As members of this class emigrated into the cities, they carried this form of family organization with them.20 Urban immigration, the movement of branches of these families into the growing communes, was crucial to this change. Paolo Cammarosano in research on the Berardenghi family of Siena has developed this view. He found that a branch of the Berardenghi that moved into the city estab­ lished a much more cohesive system of family organization than did their rural kinsmen. In general, while Cammarosano sees the origins of agna­ tion in ecclesiastical patronage rights, he argues that agnation was rein­ forced and enlarged in the communes. The system allowed both landed families and those with commercial and financial interests to maintain the unity of their patrimonies. The findings of this study support CammaroC. Postan (Berkeley and Los Angeles, 1977), pp. 59—80. Violante also addresses the problem of fragmentation: see "Quelques caracteristiques," esp. pp. 118—25. 19 On the rise of episcopal lordship, see George Dameron, "Episcopal Lordship in the Diocese of Florence and the Origins of the Commune of San Casciano Val di Pesa, 12301247," Journal of Medieval History 12 (1986): 135—54. 20 There has been extended discussion of this problem from the point of view of the French nobility. See G. Duby, "The Diffusion of Cultural Patterns in Medieval Society," Past and Present 39 (1968): 3-10; Duby, La Societe dans la region maconnaise aux XIe et XIIe siecles (Paris, 1953); and Duby's revison of his conclusions in "Lignage, noblesse et chevalerie au xne siecle dans la region ma$onnaise." For a different view, see L. Genicot, L'economie rurale namuroise au bas moyen age (1199-1429), vol. 2 (Louvain, 1960). On the breakup of north Italian estates, see Phillip Jones, "Medieval Agrarian Society in Its Prime: Italy," in Cambridge Economic History of Europe (2nd ed.; Cambridge, 1966), vol. 1, pp. 409—410. Herlihy and Klapisch argued that the lineage was an imported rural form in Les Toscans, pp. 533—34.

THE FORMATION OF URBAN LINEAGES

35

sano's conclusions. As we shall see, the unity of a thirteenth-century Flor­ entine lineage often was linked to ecclesiastical patronage rights; other sources of unity were urban rather than rural.21

Lineage Motives and Values Why did families branch out as patrilineages? Some of the earliest expla­ nations of this new stress on ties of blood outside the household come from eleventh-century theologians. Their writings suggest an intriguing motive for the patrilineage. Debate arose over the restrictive contempo­ rary definition of consanguinity, which prohibited marriage between per­ sons with a shared ancestor within the last four generations.22 A Floren­ tine dispute over this issue provoked a response from St. Peter Damian, whose discussion in effect explored the question of the social value of kinship. He supported the most restrictive definition of consanguinity be­ cause he felt that strong kinship ties helped to make peace. Damian felt that close attention to ancestry reawakened the original ties of family among men, and could be a great source of charity and love. Damian based his position on an argument that gave extended kinship a central role in human society. For Damian, the loss of knowledge of kinship was one of the consequences of the fall of man: God had origi­ nally created only a single human couple precisely in order that all men should be united by familial love. As that original marriage alliance be­ came more distant, the "flame of love" between men cooled.23 The knowledge of lineage required by the law was, for Damian, a partial re­ covery of the long-forgotten pristine kinship and could rekindle charity and love among men. Beneath Damian's vision of the social value of broadly defined kinship lay the critical problem of fostering cooperation. Lineages formed during a period of rapid economic and demographic growth, when governing institutions were weak and unable to guarantee social order. During this period, it was to the advantage of socially mobile families to act as a 21 P. Cammarosano, La famiglia dei Berardenghi, pp. 210-18. His overall view is stated in "Les structures familiales dans Ies villes de I'ltalie communale XIIe-XIVe siecles," Famille et parente, pp. 181—94. See also the theses on the Pisan nobility collected in Pisa net secoli XI e XII: Formazione e caratteri di una classe di govemo, ed. G. Rossetti, Pubblicazioni dell'Istituto di Storia, Facolta di Lettere dell'Universita di Pisa, 10 (Pisa, 1979). Diane Hughes also stresses the importance of urban association in strengthening lineage bonds in "Urban Growth." 22 On this issue, see Constance Bouchard, "Consanguinity and Noble Marriages in the Tenth and Eleventh Centuries," Speculum 56 (April 1981): 268—87. 23 P. Damian, "De parentelae gradibus," Patrologia Latina 145: col. 194. See also Herlihy and Klapisch, Les Toscans, pp. 526—32.

36

CHAPTER 2

group and to share certain kinds of assets. The new emphasis on patrilin­ eal ties fostered such cooperation. Anthropologists similarly have seen cooperation as the essential motive for the lineage. Marshall Sahlins, working from research on African tribal cultures, in 1961 developed an explanatory model for the segmentary lin­ eage. According to this view, a lineage is made up of segments, primary kin groups that are economically autonomous, residential units, roughly alike in structure and function. The lineage itself is formed on the basis of what Sahlins termed structural relativity. A lineage has a relative rather than a permanent existence: segments respond to external challenges by consolidating into temporary alliances according to their kin relation­ ships. Thus these lineage ties exist but are only acted upon when neces­ sary, and there is no permanent internal hierarchy or leadership. In the absence of an external threat, the structure breaks down into local seg­ ments. In fact, Sahlins argues, this type of lineage structure almost pre­ cludes permanent leadership.24 The medieval Florentine lineages do not fully correspond to this model. They were not fully segmented: an individual household or fraterna was not always economically autonomous, though it often was. Nevertheless, the model does clarify the motives behind the relative quality of lineage structure. A lineage in thirteenth-century Florence was not a fixed cor­ porate group with constant activities and a formal organization. Rather, its limits were unfixed: the active membership varied according to situa­ tion and the accidents of inheritance. This structural relativity enabled a medieval Florentine lineage, in the same way as the Tiv and the Nuer, to consolidate only for limited purposes: to share in the construction and maintenance of a family fort, or perhaps to make use of a political or military advantage. Andrew Strathern, in an attempt to apply lineage models drawn from African society to the New Guinea Highlands, pressed this view further. In the New Guinea Highlands, Strathern suggested, the lineage was not so much a working kinship system as a rhetorical device, an argument that the local big man could use to get a group of men to work together.25 24 See Dale and F. W. Kent, "A Self-Disciplining Pact Made by the Peruzzi Family of Flor­ ence," Renaissance Quarterly 34, no. 3 (Autumn 1981): 337-55. This view of the lineage was formulated by Marshall Sahlins in "The Segmentary Lineage: An Organization of Pred­ atory Expansion," American Anthropologist 63 (1961): 322—45. For more recent efforts at a systematization of lineage types, see the discussion of the work of Meyer Fortes by J. A. Barnes in Three Styles in the Study of Kinship (Berkeley and Los Angeles, 1971), pp. 232— 36. I have not adopted this terminology because it seemed more systematic than the Flor­ entine lineages themselves. 25 Andrew Strathern, "Two Waves of African Models in the New Guinea Highlands," in Inequality in New Guinea Highlands Societies, ed. A. Strathern (Cambridge, 1982), pp. 3549.

THE FORMATION OF URBAN LINEAGES

37

We must cooperate: we are kinsmen. Strathern's argument recalls the eleventh-century views of Peter Damian: again, that the extended ties of kinship encourage charity and love among men. This rhetorical motive is apparent in the values and rules of behavior on which the medieval lineage was based. The emphasis was on shared honor. A man was to identify closely with his kinsmen; if his cousin suf­ fered an insult or humiliation he suffered it as well. Patrilineal values served as a rhetorical device, motivating kinsmen to cooperate for the good of the lineage, and threatening with terrible sanctions those rene­ gades who did not respect the claims of kinship. The initial development of the Italian lineages is well outside the scope of this study. The thirteenth-century evidence, however, suggests that em­ phasis on patrilineal ties served above all to encourage cooperation through shared resources. Again, these lineages were patrilineal descent groups and differed sharply from dynastic lineages such as those studied by Duby. Both types of lineage used a changed inheritance strategy based on the exclusion of the female line to create a family as a permanent in­ stitution. A dynastic lineage sought to preserve the family's patrimony by cutting off cadet branches and establishing a single line of descent. A pat­ rilineal descent group by contrast enlarged the family by defining a large group of individuals as kinsmen, joined together by common ancestry. This was a family strategy adapted to the new urban setting, and designed to create a tight network of alliance and cooperation among a large group of men. In the thirteenth century, lineage cooperation was based on shared re­ sources, or joint lineage properties. The most important were military: urban forts, used for private defense.26 Kinsmen also shared other assets, including palaces and other housing and rental buildings in town. When these buildings were concentrated in a small area, they helped a lineage to play a powerful neighborhood role. Lineage joint assets also included rights and privileges, especially rights over church properties, and the less tangible resources of family identity and prestige. At the end of the twelfth century, the Uberti lineage was so successful at building up these kinds of shared properties—based on a network of urban forts—that they almost succeeded in taking over the commune. The medieval Florentine lineages, then, were at heart a system for the transmission and maintenance of the joint properties that ensured the fam­ ily's power and status in the commune. The primary system developed to hold these resources in common was the fraternal co-proprietorship, 26 This pattern was not true of the Genoese patriciate, whose members systematically left the most important family property, a tower or perhaps a house, to a single son. Other property was shared among sons. See Diane Hughes, "Struttura familiare e sistemi di successione ereditaria nei testament! dell'Europa medievale," Quaderni storici 33 (1976): 942.

38

CHAPTER 2

or fraterna.27 Daughters were generally excluded from any inheritance beyond the dowry. Sons, on the other hand, were given equal fractions; in the Florentine case they were almost always given undivided fractions of the whole rather than separate shares. The eldest son was in no obvious way favored. A man with three daughters and three sons, then, ideally left each daughter a cash dowry and each son a third of his entire property, left undivided. Inheritance and, in fact, economic adulthood were post­ poned to the dotage or death of the father.28 This was a strategy of property ownership, and not a household struc­ ture. Men could act as a fraterna without living together. Of course, the two often did overlap; the system actively encouraged brothers or their heirs to live together in the paternal household after the father's death. Over the course of a few generations, if some resources were kept un­ divided, a fraterna might grow into a lineage.29 This can be shown from the thirteenth-century evidence only indirectly. It appears most clearly in the wills of men without sons. Again, the usual practice was for a man to leave his sons equal, undivided shares of his estate. When a man had no sons, he had more choice: theoretically, he could choose to leave his estate to a single individual, or to break it up among a number of relations. In practice, however, although women's wills show this kind of variety, men without sons systematically left their property in undivided fractions to all the males of the immediate lineage. Equity meant giving equal bequests to the generation closest to the testator: if a man had three brothers but ten nephews, he nevertheless left his property in thirds, a share to each brother or the man's heirs. Thus the ten nephews would be treated as three fraterne, with each group left a single share in common. In effect, 27 Because of the clumsiness of "fraternal co-proprietorship," I am using Tamassia's term to describe brothers with shared property: the fraterna compagna, or simply the fraterna. See N. Tamassia, La famiglia italiana net secoli decimoquinto e decimosesto (Milan, 1911; reissued Rome, 1971), p. 130. For a general account of the joint fraternal household, see R. Wheaton, "Family and Kinship in Western Europe: The Problem of the Joint Family Household," Journal of Interdisciplinary History 5 (1975): 601—28. Wheaton raised the question of the relationship between lineage and joint fraternal household, but did not re­ solve it. See F. W. Kent, Household and Lineage, pp. 30—33. 28 One exception is the will of messer Consiglio de' Cerchi. His six sons were made his heirs, and each was to be given 1,500 libre at age 18. However, the two adult sons, one of whom was married, also were given 300 libre each for their expenses. All of his arms were to go to the married son, Giovanni, who was presumably the oldest. Diplomatico, Archivio Generale dei Contratti, 30 agosto 1291. 19 For a study of a Luccan family that clearly shows the relationship between fraternal groups and the whole lineage, see Thomas Blomquist, "Lineage, Land and Business in the Thirteenth Century: The Guidiccioni Family of Lucca," a portion of which appears in Ac­ tum Luce 9, nos. 1—2 (April—October 1980): 7—29. I would like to thank Professor Blom­ quist for making the full work available to me.

THE FORMATION OF URBAN LINEAGES

39

these wills reveal the testator's perception of the structure of his immedi­ ate lineage. An early and complex example of this practice is the 1241 will of Tegghiaio di Aldebrando of the Adimari, whom Dante punished in the Inferno as a sodomite. After Tegghiaio's minor son, he named two sets of substitute heirs. The first were two minors, descendants of his brother Gherardo. If these boys died as well, the estate was to go to more distant Adimari kinsmen. These were the two sons of Iacopo di Naso, for onehalf; Bindo di Alamanno, one-sixth; Lapo di Alamanno, one-sixth; the sons of Pepo di Alamanno, the final sixth.30 When were these bequests actually divided? Two rough categories of property were involved. The first was joint property: palaces, towers, and military buildings, and assets like patronage rights. These properties were the basis of lineage identity, prestige, and power. It was highly advanta­ geous to keep them intact and owned in undivided fractional shares over the course of generations, despite the awkwardness of joint administra­ tion. When a family did divide, the event was carefully recorded and might require outside arbiters.31 It was rare for a man to alienate shares of this type of property, an action that betrayed the lineage. In the late 1250s a Mannelli donated his property to the prioress of the Dominican convent of San Jacopo a Ripoli; he himself was a cleric. His property was essentially a seventh share of his father's estate, including two towers in Santa Felicita, held with his brothers.32 Other forms of wealth comprised the second category. These assets might be held by fraterne but rarely became joint lineage property. Sur­ prisingly, this included agricultural property as well as shares of banks and other businesses. These assets were routinely divided at some point after the father's death.33 Rural property was usually held by individuals or groups of brothers. Banks and other firms typically were owned by a handful of kinsmen, with outside partners. 30 Dante Alighieri, Inferno (canto xvi) in Tutte Ie Opere, ed. L. Blasucci (Florence, 1965), p. 436. The will is ASF, Diplomatico, Acquisto Marchi, 6 agosto 1241. For other examples, see a Caponsacchi will, Santa Maria Novella, 22 aprile 1300, and two Amidei wills, Cestello, 18 agosto 1229 and 16 giugno 1253. 31 This is in partial disagreement with Paolo Cammarosano, who in "Les structures familiales," p. 191, he argues that division was normal; I am suggesting that certain kinds of properties were left undivided over the course of several generations. 32 ASF, Diplomatico, San Domenico nel Maglio, 22 agosto 1258 and 11 settembre 1258. The donations were made by "Jacobus qui Mastro vocatur filius quondam Rinuccini Mannelli." He sold one piece of land to the convent. 33 One exception is a property division of 1233, in which a father actually divided his farms, keeping one for himself and dividing the rest among his three sons. Interestingly, he was an illegitimate son of a member of the Nerli lineage. See ASF, Diplomatico, Cestello, 22 gennaio 1233/4.

40

CHAPTER 2

We have seen that in the period of urban immigration and rapid growth, wealthy and socially mobile families adopted a new inheritance strategy and a new emphasis on patrilineal values. This consolidation of patrilineal ties encouraged a group of men to work together, sharing property that helped to build family status and political and military power. It is significant that lineages served only a limited purpose. They were not primarily intended as economic units and in fact were ill-suited to that purpose. As we shall see, in financial ventures the difficulties of joint administration probably outweighed the benefits.

The Abati One of the clearest examples of this pattern of family structure and inher­ itance is provided by the Abati lineage. Before we turn to the makeup of joint property, a look at the Abati can give these generalizations about family structure some life. The lineage is a rarity in that a tentative gene­ alogy can be constructed. Twelfth-century merchants, they were success­ ful enough that the first documented family member, Abbas di Ildebrandino, called "Abbas de Lambarda," served as a consul in 1176. Abbas came to be considered the lineage founder, as his given name became the family surname. He is named as a witness in two tower society docu­ ments, in 1174 and 1179. In 1179 he owned a tower near Santa Maria in Campidoglio, near the Mercato Vecchio. This was not the neighborhood in which the lineage became established, however. By 1209 his son Migliore owned a house on the border between the parishes of San Apollinare and Santo Stefano, near the Piazza San Firenze. The lineage went on to establish clusters of towers and palaces in the same region, some on the Piazza Orsanmichele, some in the nearby parishes of San Martino del Vescovo and San Bartolomeo. The locations of these parishes are indicated in Figure 2.1, a map of parish churches and convents. The Abati palaces must have been impressive: in the 1240s the court of the podesta met in one of them.34 Abbas had at least three sons, two of whom served as consuls, one in 34 On the Abati, see the thesis of Berthold Stahl, Adel und Volk im Florentiner Dugento (Cologne, 1965), pp. 58-59. For the tower society pacts, see "Atti relativi alle societa delle torri," Documenti, ed. Santini, appendix n, docs, ii and hi. Migliore's house was mentioned in a dispute over parish boundaries: ASF, Diplomatico, Badia di Firenze, 23 maggio 1209. The lineage properties are best documented in the 1248 court case discussed in this chapter. For the podesta's court, see Documenti, ed. Santini, part 2: docs. Li, lxxiv, lxxxi, xcvii, and c.

THE FORMATION OF URBAN LINEAGES

41

1203 and one in 1208.35 These two men, Migliore and Rustico, went on to establish smaller lineages within the Abati. Happily, a number of wills and related documents survive, and these reveal both the Abati patterns of property ownership and their perceptions of their lineages. They also by implication suggest an explanation for the fervent Abati support of the Ghibelline cause. Migliore had at least one son, Rinaldo, who in turn had four sons sur­ vive to adulthood. In 1248, the sons suffered a disaster when Rinaldo's widow, Baldovina, took them to court to recover her dowry.36 A widow had the right to repayment of her dowry if she chose to leave her dead husband's household. The heirs were often reluctant to repay and lose a large amount of capital. In this case, the dowry must have been larger than the value of the estate. The sons in response to the suit repudiated their inheritance from their father, with the result that all his properties fell to Baldovina in repayment of her dowry. This legal case offers a rare glimpse of the makeup of their joint lineage property in 1248. Rinaldo had owned fractions of seven urban properties. This included a twelfth of a tower and palace in San Martino del Vescovo, and a sixth of an adjoin­ ing house; other Abati owned a house next door. He also had a sixth share of a tower and house on the Piazza Orsanmichele, and a quarter of another house on the piazza. Finally, he owned three fractional properties clustered around the church of San Bartolomeo: a sixth of a palace and house, a tenth of a tower, and a sixth of two houses. Clearly, the Abati had established urban complexes made up of houses, towers, and palaces, located in three adjoining parishes. These properties had been kept intact, jointly owned by different groups of Abati, proba­ bly for several generations. They must have made the Abati a formidable power in the neighborhood. By contrast, Rinaldo's substantial rural property, all of it on the plain of Ripoli, was simply held outright. No part of it even bordered on lands owned by other Abati. Perhaps the prop­ erty was a recent acquisition, even purchased with his wife's dowry. This pattern of ownership was typical: it was advantageous for a lineage to share urban forts and palaces but not rural property. Fifty years later, the descendants of Rustico—Rinaldo's uncle—treated their property in similar ways. Four wills survive, all dating from 1296 to 1300. The first is that of messer Schiatta, apparently a moneylender who had no living children and left a substantial amount of money to charities. Schiatta owned some rural property, houses and a tower in the walled 35 See Documenti, ed. Santini, part 2: docs, XXVIII, XLVII, xux. Rustico was acting on behalf of the abbot and monastery of Santa Maria of Florence in this period; see Badia di Firenze, 30 aprile 1203. 36 The case is in Documenti, ed. Santini, part 2: doc. Ci (pp. 344—46). For a discussion of this case and its implications for Abati Ghibellinism, see chap. 9.

Figure 2.1. The Parishes of Thirteenth-Century Florence.

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CHAPTER 2

village of Cappiano, and left them, together with some rural patronage rights, to a single individual, his brother's son. Schiatta also owned a share of joint lineage property and his treatment of that share is particularly revealing. It is described as an "octavam par­ tem pro indiviso tangentem prout dicebat ipsum testator ex omnibus palatiis domibus turribus [sic] et edificiis comunibus inter eum [Schiattam] et illos de domo Abbatum de quorum prosapia idem testatorem ex paterno sanguine derivatur" ("an eighth share, undivided, of all the palaces, houses, towers, and buildings held in common between Schiatta and the men of the Abati house, from which stock Schiatta derived through the paternal blood"). These were located in the same three Abati parishes, Orsanmichele, San Bartolomeo, and San Martino del Vescovo. Schiatta left this share in undivided fractions to his immediate male relatives, who were apparently all the male descendants of Schiatta's great-grandfather, Rayneri di Rustico. Schiatta saw this group as his im­ mediate lineage within the larger Abati. Within the group, Schiatta left one share to each of the sons of Rayneri, or, in the case of the man's death, to his heirs. Fifteen men inherited, including the two surviving sons of Rayneri, who each received an eighth share of Schiatta's share, or a sixtyfourth of the properties. The five grandsons of Durante were given an eighth share in common with their uncle Feltruccio.37 These five young men thus each received a ridiculously small fraction of the properties. Of course, each had probably inherited other shares as well. In effect, Schiatta, like Rinaldo fifty years before, had two categories of property. He left his share of the Abati towers, palaces, and houses to all the members of his lineage, a group he defined as the male descendants of his great-grandfather. As we shall see, he also included a penalty clause directed against these kinsmen. Schiatta disposed of the rest of his assets as he chose, leaving rural properties to a single nephew and money to a variety of charities, including his parish church and Christ's poor. Three Abati wills, written by siblings, survive from the same period. They reveal another lineage, again descended from Rustico but this time through another son, Abate. Messer Lamberto, like Schiatta, had no sons and in a codicil of 1298 divided his property among his immediate male relations. Lamberto left his property in seven fractions, undivided. His four surviving brothers each got a share; the son and grandson of a deceased brother also each got a share. The two sons of another deceased brother, however, received one share in common.38 His sister, madonna Orrabile, followed the same practice. A Franciscan tertiary, she left sums to two friars who were Abati, and then fractional 37 Schiatta's 38

will is found in ASF, Dipiomatico, Santa Maria Novella, 9 febbraio 1300/1. ASF, Dipiomatico, Santa Maria Novella, 5 luglio 1298.

THE FORMATION OF URBAN LINEAGES

45

shares in one hundred gold florins and in her house on the piazza of Santa Croce to her five surviving brothers and the male heirs of her dead brother Neri.39 And the will of another brother, messer Scolaio, is similar. If his minor son died, his property was to go in six undivided fractions to his brothers and the heirs of Neri. He also provided a dowry for his daughter and lifetime support together with 1,000 libre for his natural son Jachine.40 For a discussion of the libra and contemporary coinage, see Ap­ pendix II. In sum, the Abati were a family of recent, urban origins. Successful merchants, they held consular offices and used joint property to establish a formidable physical presence in an urban neighborhood near Orsanmichele. Over time they branched into two lineages, but shared their joint property up to the end of the thirteenth century, despite its cumbersome fractionalization. These Abati wills suggest an explanation of the sources of the factional violence of the mid-thirteenth century. The wills of the children of Abate di Rustico reveal a demographic catastrophe: Rustico, through only two sons, had thirteen grandsons. If the lineage was a means of ensuring avail­ able male heirs, the strategy certainly backfired for the Abati. One might expect that the family would attempt to right itself by encouraging most of these men to remain unmarried. The Abati demonstrably did not re­ strict their sons' marriages.41 This overabundance of young men at midcentury helps to explain the participation of a number of the Abati in the Ghibelline faction: it offered a potential vocation. And these two facts taken together explain the failing fortunes of this branch of the Abati in the later part of the century: not only did they have too many sons, but they chose the losing side.42 39 ASF,

Notarile Antecosimiano O 3, 52" (2 agosto 1298). ASF, Diplomatico, Acquisto Strozziane-Uggucioni, 7 luglio 1296. Because the left side of the parchment is missing the will has in part been reconstructed from context. 41 This was probably typical, although the point is difficult to prove. The best evidence for the long-term transmission of magnate lineage property, to my knowledge, is a court case tracing the inheritance of rights over a convent by members of the Nerli lineage. Twenty-two men owned the rights in 1279. Seven of them died without living sons, and of that seven, six had brothers with sons. In three cases, more than one of a group of brothers married and produced sons to inherit. Twenty-one heirs held the rights thirty-six years later, in 1316. This is hardly conclusive but does suggest that most sons who did not enter the church married. ASF, Diplomatico, Sant'Appollonia, 13 febbraio 1315/6. 42 Again, for the Abati active in the Ghibelline cause, see Raveggi, Gbibellint, Guelft e Popolo Grasso, p. 34. As he points out, two family members fought on the side of the Guelfs and the commune at the battle of Montaperti. Some chroniclers attributed the Ghibelline victory to an Abati traitor, Boeca degli Abati. See Dante, Inferno, canto XXXII, lines 77— 123. 40

JOINT LINEAGE PROPERTY: AN OVERVIEW

I

N LATE twelfth- and thirteenth-century Florence, the weakness of civic institutions led rising families to adopt a patrilineal inheritance strategy and set of values in order to foster cooperation in the pres­ ervation of shared resources. These resources were used to establish fam­ ily power and status in the commune. What kinds of properties were shared by lineages, and how were they actually administered by these large kin groups?

The Extent of Joint Property The most remarkable text for the centrality of joint property to the for­ mation and continuing identity of a lineage is Neri Strinati's Cronichetta.1 Neri Strinati was a Florentine magnate who while exiled in Padua in 1312 wrote a history of his lineage. Strinati wrote the work in order to preserve some record of the information lost when his documents, placed during his exile in a Calimala (merchant's guild) shop for safekeeping, had been burned. He also had long been interested in the history of his house, and had sought out family elders to ask for their recollections; the most im­ portant source, he tells us, was madonna Ciaberonta, who had died fortyfive years before at the age of 115. Neri began with his family tree, which was exclusively male. In the case of each ancestor, he considered two events worthy of note: the survival of a son, and the acquisition of urban property. The lineage founder, Ciabero, owned a house on the Mercato Vecchio, and his son Manso ac­ quired three shops in the same area. Manso's great-grandson, Ciaberonto, was the founder of Neri's branch of the family. It was Ciaberonto who built the family tower, which bore his name: La Ciaberonta. He di­ vided the lineage patrimony with his brother Villanuzzo. Over time, other properties were acquired: Villanuzzo's son contracted a marriage that gave him as his wife's dowry a house in the same area, which was reas1 The text of the Cronichetta was copied by a kinsman in the fifteenth century and then published in the mid-eighteenth century together with the spurious Storia della guerra di Semifonte of Pace da Certaldo (Florence, 1753); the original is lost.

JOINT LINEAGE PROPERTY

47

sembled into a Strinati palace.2 Other shops bordering on the original family houses were purchased around 1252. In 1256, the lineage placed all these properties in common, holding them in fractional shares. This was established in a formal notarial contract, written, incidentally, by ser Brunetto Latini. The properties included a tower, a palace, shops, and houses, some of which were rented. They were in the northwest corner of the Mercato Vecchio, between the Tornaquinci tower and the church of Santa Maria in Campidoglio, adjoining della Tosa property; some were still in Alfieri-Strinati hands in the fifteenth century, judging from Guido Carocci's reconstruction from the 1427 catasto, a household tax survey.3 Like the Abati, the Strinati suffered a demographic catastrophe, pro­ ducing twenty-three sons in one generation. One of them was Neri, the author of the chronicle. As one of three brothers, he inherited a third share of his father's third of the Ciaberonto half share. He held the prop­ erties with kinsmen connected to him by a shared great-great-greatgrandfather, five generations back. Neri carefully spelled out in the Cronichetta the precise shares of the different properties owned by his kinsmen. Their relations were governed by written pacts, which specified the value of shares of the property, so that when a kinsman died leaving his shares to his granddaughters, other kinsmen were able to buy them out and keep the property within the lineage. Strinati were active in the Ghibelline regime of the 1260s, six of the lineage serving as consuls. Their fortunes declined after 1267 with the failure of the Ghibelline cause.4 As Neri bitterly reported, some family properties were damaged or destroyed at the urging of their Guelf oppo­ nents and neighbors. In the 1280s and 1290s, a few Strinati bought up the shares owned by their kinsmen and shares that had passed to women. Neri in partnership with his cousins the sons of Marabottino systemati­ cally acquired pieces of the property from his kinsmen, with some held jointly and some owned individually. Finally in 1301 the lineage split up the remaining joint properties into three parts, divided among the three branches of the family. In effect, the Strinati increased their joint property at mid-century. Under the pressures of the 1280s and 1290s some individ­ uals lost their shares and at the end of the century the lineage divided its property. 2 This was Davanzato di Villanuzzo, who married an unnamed woman from the Mazzinghi da Campi; see Cronichetta, p. 101. 3 See G. Carocci, Il centro di Firenze (Florence, 1900). 4 For Strinati serving as Ghibelline consuls, see Raveggi, Ghibellini, Guelfi e Popolo Grasso, p. 34n. They included men from Neri's immediate branch, his uncle Marabottino and Ubaldino di Marabottino. One of the Ghibelline representatives in the bipartisan gov­ ernment established by Cardinal Latino in 1282 was Sinibaldo di Marabottino, for which see D. Medici, in Raveggi et al., Ghibellini, Guelfi e Popolo Grasso, p. 174.

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The Cronichetta is a clear expression of thirteenth-century patrilineal values. When Neri mentioned an ancestor, two attributes were signifi­ cant: whether he had sons and whether he had acquired urban property. The overall pattern described in the Cronichetta is also typical: an in­ crease in joint lineage holdings until the 1260s, with a careful effort to build up property in a single small neighborhood. The Strinati joint prop­ erty declined with the Ghibelline cause in the 1280s and 1290s; they di­ vided in 1301. Another early source for joint lineage property is a set of Amidei estate inventories. Gianni Amidei at his death in 1230 owned a sixth share of two houses, "the part belonging to him" of a tower called the Bigonchia, and an unspecified portion of a house, which was apparently rented. The rest of his property was agricultural, scattered over three different par­ ishes; the only fractional property consisted of personal rights, one half of the rights over the persons of the sons of Rinieri de cedde. The 1253 inventory of the estate of Gianni's son and sole heir contains far more joint property. In town, he owned pro indiviso a third of a house, a twelfth of a tower called the Trappiedi, and a sixth of another Amidei tower. These properties were adjoining, located at the head of the Ponte Vecchio. These were the family residences. The will itself was writ­ ten "in the house of messer Giovanni the testator and his consortes, lo­ cated at the head of the Ponte Vecchio." Giovanni also held a third of a house, a twelfth of another house, and a twelfth of the tower called the Bigonchia mentioned in his father's will. His rural property was also par­ tially held in fractions. Finally, his debts were shared with his immediate relatives, who were also the guardians and subheirs named in the will. Giovanni in total owed one third of twenty-three pounds.5 In 1230, then, the only Amidei joint property was urban, the family residences and a rental house. By 1253 the picture had changed. Although it is not clear that Giovanni's rural property was shared with relations, there is direct evidence that the lineage was increasing its shared assets in the first half of the century, and that Giovanni had close economic ties to his kinsmen. In the second half of the century, the Amidei urban property was kept intact, but probably belonged to only a few members of the family. The sale of one-sixth of a piece of land with a tower in 1285 by one family member to another suggests this tendency.6 Corsino, son of the late Gianni, in 1296 protested a loggia being erected by the commune that detracted from the Amidei property at the head of the Ponte Vecchio. He is described as "housed in a house of the Amidei," and acting "on his s Diplomatico, Cestello, 18 agosto 1229; 16 giugno 1253. The text leaves the father's name in Italian and translates the son's into the Latin "Johanes." I have rendered it as Gio­ vanni, to distinguish between the two men. 6 Diplomatico, San Matteo, 23 agosto 1285.

JOINT LINEAGE PROPERTY

49

own behalf and that of all his consortes." Corsino's kinsmen were in fact numerous: when he posted security as a magnate in 1292/3, fourteen of his guarantors were explicitly named as Amidei. But not all held fractions of the complex at the head of the bridge. Some are described as living in a neighboring parish. And another text reveals that in 1300 one of the houses, a quarter of a shop, and half a tower in the complex were owned by Corsino alone.7 In the case of the Amidei, then, fragmentary evidence again suggests an increase in joint property up to the 1250s, including family residences, rental housing in town, and possibly other business ventures. A few pieces of rural land may also have been shared. In the second half of the century, this was gradually broken up. In the case of the Amidei, the problem of fragmentation seems ultimately to have been solved not through changes in inheritance but through a few individuals buying the rest out. This pattern was typical. Rural properties were broken up. The crucial shared lands were urban forts and residences. Lineages owned collections of towers, houses, and palaces, with shops below. Ideally, they were clus­ tered in a single neighborhood; the Amidei held a critical strategic spot, at the head of the Ponte Vecchio. As we will see in detail in chapter 5, the towers met a real need for private defense, and were also intended to enable a lineage to dominate its neighbors. In the thirteenth century, the towers became central to family identity itself. It is revealing that when a lineage was exiled, its towers were not expropriated but razed.8 Another source for the makeup of joint property is the Liber Extimationum.9 When the Ghibellines took the city after the Battle of Montaperti in 1260, they destroyed the property of the major Guelf exiles. On their return in 1266, the Guelfs compiled a survey of the damages and their estimated value. The document offers not a longitudinal look at joint property over time but rather a cross section of joint property held by the members of one faction in 1260. As a list of family properties, however, the Liber Extimationum is a problematic source because of this political process of selection. The fact that the Adimari are represented for a very large sum, for example, as Massimo Tarassi has pointed out, indicates not that they were the wealthiest Guelfs but that they were the 7 The protest is Diplomatico, San Matteo, 12 novembre 1296; the text recording Corsi­ no's ftdeiussores is San Mattheo, 12 febbraio 1292/3; his property appears in San Mattheo, 24 luglio 1300. The will of an Amidei engaged in business in Verona reveals that of twelve investors, only one was a kinsman: Diplomatico, San Matteo, 2 gennaio 1294/5. 8 Richard Goldthwaite mentions the few studies of the medieval compounds in "The Flor­ entine Palace as Domestic Architecture," American Historical Review 77 (October 1972): 977-1012, and in the introduction to The Building of Renaissance Florence (Baltimore and London, 1980). 9 See "Liber Extimationum," ed. O. Bratto, Goteborgs Universitets Arsskrift 62 (1956).

50

CHAPTER 3

most hated.10 The text cannot be used as a measure of overall wealth, or as a list of all the properties held by these families. However, it does offer an indication of the way the lineages and individuals held property: own­ ers after all had every reason for accuracy in reporting fractional shares. In the case of the Cavalcanti lineage, there were nine properties in town. Messer Raneri Cavalcanti "et eius consortum" owned a tower called the Fornace, a shop, and a large house inhabited by messer Tegghia di Giamberto in one parish, for a total of 750 libre; in another parish, they held a palace and tower called the Cavalcavia, estimated at 500 libre; they also lost the walls of a house in a third parish, twenty libre. How much of the Cavalcanti lineage this group encompassed is unclear, al­ though the fact that Tegghia and Raneri were both involved suggests a group larger than a fraterna. The remainder of the property in town in­ cluded a roofed court, held by messer Cavalcavia "et nepotum," 60 libre, the walls of a house, held by the sons of Tegghia, 20, and another house held by Uberto di Pazzo. The Cavalcanti rural property was held by individuals, by brothers or uncles and nephews. The three sons of Adimaro di Gianni Leti and a nephew lost six houses in a destroyed castrum, 600 pounds. Messer Maynetto di Paffiere and his nephew lost a quarter of a castrum and ten other houses in a number of different areas, for 575 pounds; they also held the adjoining properties. In sum, then, the Cavalcanti probably held substan­ tial joint property in town, again the family residence and rental property, whereas their rural estates were held individually or by fraterne, groups of brothers or uncles and nephews.11 The Giandonati property offers a clearer case because ownership was described in specified fractions: one-third to messer Giannozzo, a third to the sons of messer Guerrerio, and a final third divided between Zozzo di Arrigo, for two-fifteenths, and the sons of Giamguerreri, for the remain­ ing three-fifteenths. They owned a complex of property adjoining the new forum, including a house, half of a tower, half of a palace, another palace and a set of palace walls; their loss totaled 500 libre. The neighboring properties also belonged in part to Giandonati, but not to this exact group. Once again, their rural property, although adjacent, was not held jointly.12 The Malespini property included a "tower or rather palace" and two houses, held by messer Ruggero, his brother, the sons of messer Tingnoso, and the sons of Truffo; the total value was 950 libre. Different groups of 10 M. Tarassi, in Raveggi, Ghibellini, Guelfi e Popolo Grasso, pp. 114—15. The Adimari losses were valued at over 1,500 pounds; see Liber Extimationum, entries 362, 363, 368, 371. They are also discussed by E. Fiumi, "Fiorituro e decadenza," p. 402. 11 Liber Extimationum, entries 125-28, 163, 182, 183. 12 Liber Extimationum, entries 233—35, 257, 260, 261.

JOINT LINEAGE PROPERTY

51

Malespini are represented in other claims. Lapo di Gianni and his unspe­ cified "consortum," for example, held a tower, a palace, and a wooden house, for 1,100 libre. Once again, the Malespini property in the contado was held by individuals or brothers.13 These examples are typical of the Guelf noble lineages appearing in the Liber Extimationum for considerable amounts of property. Table 3.1 lists the magnate lineages clearly represented in the text, and the varying ways in which they held property. Again, it should be taken as a rough approx­ imation only for several reasons. There may be some bias in favor of joint property, because a group of men inheriting damaged property might wait until the settlement of their claim before dividing it up; presumably TABLE 3.1 Magnate Urban and Rural Properties in the Liber Extimationum by Number of Entries and Kinship Ties Between Co-Owners Surname

Urban Properties Individual Fraterna

Adimari Arrigucci Bardi Bostichi Buondelmonti Cavalcanti Delia Tosa Donati Gherardini Giandonati Guidalotti Malespini Mazzinghi Mozzi Pigli Saehetti Sizi Tornaquinei Totals

Rural Properties

Lineage Individual

Fraterna

Lineage

1*

5

4

4

7*

5

1 2 4

1 4

3

1

2 2

1 5 2 7

2

2

4 1

3 3*

1

1

1 1

2 1

2

2

22

19

23

1 4 1 1

1 4 1 3

1 2* 4*

1

3 1 1 1 1 2 4*

1

3

2

1 1 34

28

6

Source: "Liber Extimationum," ed. O. Bratto, Goteborgs Vniversitets Arsskrift 62 (1956). * Fractional share of rural property. A fraterna could include brothers, fathers and sons, or uncles and nephews. A lineage is a more disparate group of kinsmen. Identification of individuals belonging to these lineages is based on the use of surnames within the document. 13

Liber Extimationum, entries 114—17, 164—66, 171,172.

52

CHAPTER 3

this would be equally true in the city and the countryside. Further, the list indicates only the number of entries, and not the number of whole prop­ erties: some entries described part shares. Each entry lists an owner or group of co-owners. Sometimes an entry describes an individual or group owning part shares of a property, but does not specify who owned the rest. Lippo Stremi of the Gherardini, for example, owned among other things a half share of a palace in Santo Stefano. As a result, this list underrepresents joint property within the city. The magnate owners in the contado who held part shares are indicated with asterisks on Table 3.1; most belonged to families derived from the rural nobility.14 Finally, be­ cause of the difficulties of identifying people listed without surnames, the list is inevitably incomplete. Despite these drawbacks, the list does show a marked contrast between urban and rural holdings. Urban property was often held jointly, whereas rural land was usually held by individuals, brothers, or, at most, a twogeneration lineage, uncles and nephews. The only lineage listed with ex­ tensive rural property held jointly is a predominantly rural family, the Mazzinghi. The implication is that this type of lineage was an urban strat­ egy, most effective in sharing urban resources. This also supports Wickham's speculation that Florentines had weaker, more recent ties in the contado: for most lineages, family identity was urban. Joint property was rarely held by a lineage as a single unit. Rather, different and sometimes overlapping groups within a lineage held clusters of property; some family members might be completely excluded. Again, this underscores the relative quality of these lineages. They were not sin­ gle monolithic families but rather loose collections of kinsmen who might or might not cooperate, depending on circumstances. Beyond land, houses, and towers, what other kinds of resources were shared? The most important were ecclesiastical patronage rights. These rights were highly valuable not only as a source of prestige but of power and wealth; in many cases they carried with them control over church lands. Ecclesiastical rights also were not easily divisible. A number of lin­ eages formed and persisted for centuries because of rights over the church, as we will see in chapter 4. 14 They were messer Mainetto Paffiere de Cavalcanti and his "nepotum," who co-owned a fourth part of the castrum of Ascianello (Lib. Ext. 182); Tegghia and Arnolfo di messer Gentile de Bondelmonti, an undivided third share of two palaces and houses in Castro de Monte and half of a house in the castrum of Lucingnano (258); messer Ruggero Rossi degli Adimari, who among his many properties owned a quarter share of a house in San Miniato al Monte (389). The remainder were Mazzinghi: Ghersetto di messer Tegrimo de Mazzinghi da Campi, half of a palace in Campi (332); the heirs of messer Mazzetto de Mazzinghi, half a house in the "castellare" of the Mazzinghi (353); Tegrimo and his "nepotum," the heirs of Gherardino de Mazzinghi, half of two houses in Campi (354).

JOINT LINEAGE PROPERTY

53

What of financial partnerships? The lineage existed for limited pur­ poses, for the most part political, military, and social. The motives for the lineage were only indirectly economic. Property that served primarily to generate revenue typically was not held as joint lineage property. Kinship, after all, is not necessarily the best basis for financial partnership. The idea of the primordial family firm—that is, that banks and merchant com­ panies began as family enterprises and then gradually opened up to out­ side partners—may be misleading. Some banks did begin as father-son partnerships and then became fraterne compagne, like the firm of Oliviero dei Cerchi and his many sons. However, the evidence from the second half of the thirteenth century shows that all the major "family firms" con­ tained a large proportion of outsiders, presumably chosen for their finan­ cial talents and resources rather than because of kinship ties. Even the Cerchi had numerous outside partners by the end of the century.15 This point was carefully documented by Robert Davidsohn. He found, for example, that of the eight partners included in the Frescobaldi firm in 1284, only one was a Frescobaldi—Lambertuccio, who headed the bank. In 1292 Giovanni Frescobaldi also appeared.16 The Franzesi firm in 1297 included three Franzesi brothers, a cousin, and six other apparently un­ related partners.17 Of course, this does not imply that other kinsmen had no investments in the firm. It does suggest that this was not automatically the case. Financial partnerships tended to form and then divide quite rapidly. The della Scala firm in 1263 is named in a papal register. (Because of the variants, I have spelled the names as they appear in the register). The firm was led by Cavalcante della Scala, Aimerius Cose, Jacobus Secca, Hugo Spine, and Petrus Benincase; their partners included Teglarius della Scala, Mainettus Spine, Campana Francisci, Lotterius Benincase, Teglarius Amatoris, Thomasius Spiliati [de Mozzis], Ruccus and Dricta Cambii [de Mozzis], Raynerius Abbatis, and Lapus Aymerici.18 The firm divided in 1274 with the formation of a company headed by Jacopo Becchi and Ugo 15 See Davidsohn's account of the vicissitudes of the Cerchi, Storia vol. 6, pp. 371—73. On "the non-familial structure of Florentine business association" in the later period, see R. A. Goldthwaite, "The Medici Bank and the World of Florentine Capitalism," Past and Present 114 (February 1987): 9—13. For a beautifully documented reconstruction of the financial affairs of five Sienese magnate lineages, see Edward D. English, "Five Magnate Families of Siena, 1240—1350" (Ph.D. diss., University of Toronto, 1981). I would like to thank Dr. English for making a copy of his dissertation available to me. 16 Davidsohn, Storia vol. 3, pp. 553—54. 17 Davidsohn cites a letter of Boniface VIII of 5 January 1297 in Les Registres de Boniface VIII, ed. G.A.L. Digard et al. (Paris, 1884-1939), no. 1495. 18 Les Registres d'Vrbain IV (1261—1264), ed. Jean Guiraud (Paris, 1892—1904), no. 363. For the history of the della Scala firm, see Davidsohn, Storia vol. 6, pp. 365—67. On the problem of variant spellings, see chap. 1, note 47.

54

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Spini, including also the three Mozzi, Mainettus Spine, Raynerius Abbatis, and a number of other partners.19 Over time this developed into a Mozzi-Spini firm, then divided again. The company of Ruggiero and Lapo Spini at its peak in 1300, Davidsohn tells us, had thirty-seven part­ ners, with Spini in the minority. Tomaso Spigliati de'Mozzis formed a separate company, which in 1306 had ten partners, all but three of whom were Mozzi.20 Diritta Cambii de'Mozzis formed a distinct Calimala firm; at its failure in 1303 the partners included his three sons and one outsider, a dell'Antella.21 The Calimala was the guild of international merchants and cloth finishers. Finally the Abati-Bacherelli firm also developed from the della Scala.22 The della Scala firm persisted until 1326, at which time there were twenty-five partners, including four della Scala, one Amieri, and eight heirs of Pietro Benincasa.23 Some of the difficulties inherent in the family firm are revealed in a dispute over profits between Gianfigliazzi partners in 1283; it was settled by outside arbiters.24 In 1299 Marco di Jacopo degli Ammanati publically notified the consuls of the Calimala guild that his kinsman Vanne di Bandino degli Ammanati did not belong to the societas Ammanatorum, and that they were not responsible for his obligations.25 The fundamental dif­ ficulty with equating kinship ties and financial ties was the problem of limiting liability, as Edward English has shown for Siena.26 The point is not that kinsmen did not share economic interests; clearly lineage mem­ bers often were financial partners. Rather, this was not automatically the case. The lineage was not primarily a financial strategy, and the assump­ tion of shared economic interests is not always justifiable.

The Management of Joint Property One of the real puzzles in the study of the medieval lineages is how kins­ men cooperated in practice to administer their joint property. Smaller lin­ eages might have had a few patriarchs with the stature to make group decisions. In larger lineages, a group of more or less distant kinsmen had to find a way to make decisions amicably. How was it done? 19 Robert

Davidsohn, Forscbungen, m, reg. 84. reg. 511. 21 Ibid., reg. 454. 22 On the Abati financial interests, see chapter 9. 23 Davidsohn, Forscbungen, m, reg. 850. 24 Diplomatico, Santa Croce di Firenze, 31 ottobre 1283. 25 Notarile F 66, 71' (13 febbraio 1298/9). 26 See Edward English, Enterprise and Liability in Sienese Banking, 1230—1350 (Cam­ bridge, Mass., 1988), which cites the extensive bibliography on this problem. 20 Ibid.,

JOINT LINEAGE PROPERTY

55

The most dramatic thirteenth-century evidence comes not from Flor­ ence but from Lucca. This is a pact used to govern a whole "consortum," dated 1287: the "Statuta, Ordinamenta et Capitula Constitutionis Domus Filiorum Corbolani et Consortum." The "consortum," perhaps in imitation of other corporate associations of the period, was ruled by an elected consul and a treasurer, serving one-year terms. They had common funds and held joint property, houses, towers, and possessions in three parishes, and the pact provided that no member could purchase other properties in these parishes without offering to sell a share to the group. Much of the pact was concerned with peacekeeping. If a member insulted another member's wife, he was liable for a fine of ten soldi; if a wife insulted a member, her husband was liable for half that amount. It is not clear that the group was a lineage: of the twenty men named, six are iden­ tified as Corbolani, and some had other surnames. It may be best under­ stood as an association of shareholders, like the tower societies, though the persistent references to the group as a domus suggest an artificial kin group, like the Genoese albergo.27 The most revealing clause in the pact states that in case of civil disturbance the consul was to quickly gather the group together in order to decide whether to support the commune, or perhaps an "amico suo." The Corbolani apparently were perfectly pre­ pared to support an ally against their commune. This Luccan domus, then, administered itself through a system of elected officers. Whether this was true of Florentine lineages in the period is a matter for conjecture. The late twelfth- and early thirteenth-century tower society pacts have sometimes been taken to be internal family pacts, but, as we shall see in chapter 5, tower societies were not kin groups, artificial or otherwise. The earliest-known surviving pact govern­ ing a whole Florentine lineage was written by the Peruzzi in the four­ teenth century and did not involve shared property.28 There are a few thirteenth-century references to pacts between kins­ men. These apparently concerned only the management of specific prop­ erties. Neri Strinati mentioned a number of internal pacts, and in fact wrote his Cronichetta in part because his legal documents had been burned and he was attempting to reconstruct their contents. When groups of Strinati held property jointly, they often wrote up a notarial pact. He explained, for example, that when the sons of Marabottino purchased a group of houses they drew up a pact determining a just price for the prop­ erties and providing that if one of them died without male issue the prop27 S. Bongi, ed., "Statute inedito della casa de' Corbolani," Atti della reale accademia lucchese di scienze, lettere ed arti 24 (1886): 469-87. 28 Dale and F. W. Kent, "A Self-Disciplining Pact made by the Peruzzi Family of Flor­ ence," Renaissance Quarterly 34, no. 3 (Fall 1981): 337-55.

56

CHAPTER 3

erty would go to the other shareholders.29 Apparently pacts were rou­ tinely drawn up to manage specific collections of jointly held property. It is interesting that these pacts were not informal family records but public documents drawn up by notaries. Neri mentions "danari comuni," which appear to have been funds common to a group of shareholders.30 There is no suggestion of a general pact governing the lineage. A reference to a similar pact appears in a thirteenth-century Florentine notarial text. A group of men of the Baroni, a nonmagnate lineage, owned four houses and a curia together and had drawn up a pact specifying that the houses could not be sold or rented without the consent of the group. One family member had broken the pact and rented the houses without the consent of his associates, and a notarial text of 1282 records their protest. There is no further evidence in the text for the nature of the pact.31 There is also some evidence for the practical management of joint prop­ erty. The Mannelli held property on the Ponte Vecchio and in the imme­ diate area, in competition with the Amidei. These houses, shops, and tow­ ers were held jointly at least from the first half of the century; Mastro di Rinuccino in 1258 mentioned his share as inherited from his father. In the 1290s the property is described as adjoining the Ponte Vecchio, and com­ mon to the Mannelli, held as if by one.32 The properties included the Mannelli tower and residences and rental shops and housing. In one text of 1295, Lapo on behalf of his consortes rents out the "stall or rather bank of the Mannelli," which was actually on the bridge, and then gives a relative his share of the rent.33 In a 1297 text, this property is further described as owned by various Mannelli, in ninth shares.34 The Mannelli apparently simply allowed one kinsman to manage the property and to distribute shares of the rent to the co-owners. 29 " Quando si comperarono delle dette case, fue ordinato, e fermato intra' figliuoli Marabottini di fare patti fra Ioro della detta casa per estimo di giusto pregio, non guardando al costo, ο pregio, ch'erano costate, se non solamente a mantenerle intra essi e Ioro consorti; e se awenisse, che veruno di Ioro rimanesse, ο morisse senza figliuoli maschi, dovesse rimanere agli altri senze pregio." "Cronichetta," pp. 120-21. For another pact, see pp. 102—3. 30 "Cronichetta," p. 125. 31 Notarile 1104, 69r. 32 This phrase reads "domorum comunium Mannellorum ad unum se tenentium. . . iuxta pontem veterem." 33 The text reads "tabulam seu bancham de Mannellis." 34 For the 1258 text, see Diplomatico, San Domenico nel Maglio, 22 agosto 1258 and 11 settembre 1258. For the texts from the 1290s, see Notarile C 102,103v, 107v, 160'. In 1297, messer Abbas di messer Mannelli owned a ninth share, and had a second ninth inherited from Jacopo di Boninsegna, of the tabula and apotheca at the Ponte Vecchio. He collected 7 libre 4 soldi 6 danari in rent for these two shares: see C 102,189v. The properties appear in the 1305 records of the rental gabelle, Estimo I, 111—13. They were held by "domini Lapi, domini Stregghie et Cecchi de Mannellis."

JOINT LINEAGE PROPERTY

57

The best sources for lineage administration of joint property are the records showing how lineages exercised their ecclesiastical patronage rights. As we will see in chapter 4, these records reveal no fixed chain of command. Rather, leaders were chosen for particular functions and their offices were explicitly temporary. The evidence in fact suggests that lin­ eages went to some lengths to avoid allowing any one individual or set of individuals to take control. This lack of fixed leadership resulted from the value of the resources held jointly: no one was willing to let them out of his own hands indefinitely. In the later period, when joint properties were less important, some lineages did allow permanent captains.

The Breakup of Joint Property From the last decades of the century, families were dividing property that traditionally had been held jointly. This change is abundantly clear from the many recent studies of Florentine lineages in the fourteenth and fif­ teenth centuries that reveal only rare and often symbolic joint property, perhaps a family loggia. Although there is no quantifiable evidence to document the beginnings of this change in the late thirteenth century, scattered notarial references do give some access to these divisions.35 There were several general reasons for the breakup of joint property. In part, it probably resulted simply from the mathematics of family growth. Most of the magnate lineages formed in the eleventh and twelfth centuries, and by 1300 many were very large indeed. Complete lists of lineage members are rare, but there were at least fifty-eight adult male Visdomini in 1301; and forty-seven Nerli in 1319, including five illegiti­ mate sons.36 A later source, the 1342 records of the peace pacts accom­ plished by the duke of Athens, lists 116 adult male Bardi and fifty-one Buondelmonti.37 Even these long lists are demonstrably incomplete.38 If these very large lineages kept shared property, its complex fractionalization, like that of the Abati, had certainly become unwieldy. This does not mean that complete division was inevitable. The obvious alternative was to divide into smaller lineages, and then take collective action to rem35 The only extensive property record from this period, to my knowledge, is Estimo I, a rental gabelle. This important document does not describe the kinds of military and residen­ tial property which were characteristically held jointly. 36 These figures are drawn from lists of ecclesiastical patrons; see chapter 4. 37 ASF Balie I, 20'"v (the Bardi) and 82v (the Buondelmonti). An earlier list of Buondelmonti making peace with the Bardi includes only thirty-one men. I would like to thank David Herlihy for suggesting the use of this source. 38 When the lists are checked against the lineage members holding credits in the 1343 Monte Comune, it is clear that some men were left out.

58

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edy their fortunes. In practice, however, joint property was often broken down. The tendency for a few family members to buy out the rest has already been mentioned. There is another example in texts from 1300 in which two Caponsacchi brothers bought up four out of five shares of a house from their kinsmen.39 The general trend, however, was to divide. Records of a number of divisions survive from the last decade of the thirteenth century. Rural property was divided fairly commonly, but there were also divisions of houses in town.40 In some cases, these divi­ sions suggest that not fractionalization but the enforced solidarity of the joint property itself was becoming disadvantageous. In a Tornaquinci di­ vision of 1297, an uncle separated his share of the family residences from his nephews.41 In another division, dating from 1295, a young man broke up a fraterna, receiving his share of the capital and rental property he had owned jointly with his six brothers. His elder brothers had been his guardians and had administered the property.42 In both these cases, the arbiters were members of the lineage. In a number of other divisions, however, magnate houses actually turned to officers of the commune to resolve their internal differences.43 Sometimes the internal strains of the lineage become apparent. Several cases in the notarial texts reveal quarrels within families over joint prop­ erty. One example is the episode mentioned earlier in this chapter in which a member of the non-magnate Baroni lineage broke a pact govern­ ing the use of shared property.44 There was a dispute between an uncle and a nephew of the Cose lineage, in which the uncle, Primerano, accused his nephew Guccio of encroaching onto a passageway adjoining Guccio's property in the country. The interesting aspect of the accusation is the fact that he took it to the communal government: the text is a compro­ mise, effected by a judge acting for the podesta, in which each disputant chose a kinsman to serve as his arbiter.45 39 Notarile M 293 π, 17 ottobre 1300. The household adjoined other Caponsacchi com­ mon property. For an example of the complex fractionalization of lineage property, see the estate of messer Boccaccio of the Cavalcanti: he owned one forty-eighth of a number of properties. The text is Diplomatico, Strozziane-Uggucioni, 13 settembre 1284. 40 In a Strinati division of 1284, the property in the commune was explicity kept common. When the Mozzi bought property from the commune in 1271 at the foot of the Ponte Rubaconte (the modern Ponte alle Grazie), a number of Mozzi acted together to buy the prop­ erty and then immediately divided it: see Diplomatico, Archivio generale—appendice 5 giugno 1271. 41 Diplomatico, Archivio generale dei contratti 1297 Ind. x. 42 Diplomatico, Adespote-coperti di libri, 5 novembre 1295. 43 A Tornaquinci division of two family palaces, for example, was performed by officers of the commune and the decision was made by casting lots; see Adespote-coperti di libri, 16 agosto 1286. 44 Notarile I 104 69' (6 febbraio 1281/82). 45 The parties were "Primeranus quondam Aldobrandi Cose" and "Arrigus qui Guccius

JOINT LINEAGE PROPERTY

59

Surprisingly, an Uberti dispute over joint property also was taken to a judge representing the podesta. The Uberti dispute was over urban prop­ erty, building sites adjoining the "plateam filii Uberti," literally the "courtyard of the sons of Uberti," probably a private piazza. Two Uberti and Gianni degli Agli disputed the right of messer Rinaldo degli Uberti to build on the sites. In this case the decision was made by the court.46 A series of texts from one notary give a vivid account of the divisions within the Corbizzi lineage. There is a sequence of entries in which the three sons of messer Gherardo de'Corbizzi divided their patrimony, ex­ plicitly all their common goods. Two of them rejoined, but their partner­ ship lasted under a year.47 Contemporaneously, there was a major dispute in the lineage, requiring outside arbiters. Goccia and his two sons had for some time acted as executors and guardians of the estate and family of the late Nerlo de'Corbizzi and now sought the entire property as reim­ bursement for their expenses as guardians. Their opponents in the dispute were their male relatives: Goccia's brother Disticcio and the three sons of Gherardo. They maintained that Goccia had absorbed the entire revenues of the estate for some time and needed no further repayment. The two groups compromised on three arbiters, drawn from outside the family. Goccia had kept careful track of his expenses relative to Nerlo's estate and family, and the list is given in the text. He had paid support—in food, clothing, and shoes—for the wife and children. Goccia supported the wife for only three years, but he had supported one daughter for eleven years, and then spent 38 libre for her to enter a convent, and the other daughter for twenty-two years, at the end of which he paid 360 libre for her dowry, made a 10-Iibre donatio, and spent 10 libre for a dinner, presumably for her wedding. Finally, Goccia supported the son for seven years and then spent 40 libre to send him to France. He apparently did not return. Goccia also lists his expenditures in maintaining and repairing the properties. The text is striking not only because of the fortuitous disappearance of the heir, but in that Goccia and his kinsmen were unable to settle their differences privately, without drawing in outsiders. The arbiters were not unsympathetic to Goccia: they reduced his claim to a 1,000 libre, and gave him two farms, a house, and a mill. The remainder of the estate was divided, a third going to Goccia, a third to his brother, and a third to the sons of Gherardo.48 vocatur quondam domini Manetti Aldobrandi nepos dicti Primerani." Notarile I 104 64' (20 febbraio 1280/81). 46 The accusation was made by "Raynerius de Ubertis," "Nerus Georgii Brunelli quon­ dam Uberti," and "Giani de Aleis," against "dominus Rinaldus Occiolini quondam Rayneri Uberti." Diplomatico, Santa Maria degli Angeli, 10 novembre 1283. 47 Notarile R 40, 41' and v, 50v. 48 The texts concerning the guardianship are R 40, 3 lr, 50v, 52".

60

CHAPTER 3

It was perhaps because of these quarrels—and in particular because of the problems associated with guardianships—that magnate wills from the 1280s and 1290s show a growing reliance on people and institutions out­ side the lineage. Again, the handful of wills that survive can only offer a suggestion of change. Four magnate wills dated before 1250 named as guardians and executors the male members of the immediate lineage, un­ cles, brothers, or cousins. In the Amidei wills discussed previously in this chapter, for example, the guardians, executors, and substitute heirs were all the same individuals, close male kinsmen.49 By 1290, men often named as guardians and executors their wives or their sisters, relying on the kindred rather than the lineage. Alternatively, they named men outside the lineage, usually the heads of religious houses. They also often included elaborate provisions to ensure that their chari­ table bequests would be carried out.50 Probably this does not represent a change in beliefs about charity or salvation. Testators were making the same kinds of bequests their ances­ tors had made, and directing them to the same beneficiaries, although there was some multiplication of the number of charitable bequests. The change was in the people they trusted to carry out these provisions. When men broke with custom and chose not to place their estates in the hands of patrilineal kin, that choice implies a loss of confidence in their kinsmen. Kinsmen after all were often interested parties, as portions of the estate that did not go to charity or to the children might well go to them. By the late thirteenth century some magnate testators feared that their kinsman might act from self-interest. A testator's bequests generally were designed to promote the salvation of his soul and the long-term welfare of his fam49 See Diplomatico, Badia di Firenze 12 . . . #12, a Cavalcanti will of the 1240s; Diplomatico, Acquisto Marchi, 6 agosto 1241, an Adimari will; see also the Amidei wills cited in this chapter. Of course, this does not mean that wives had no say in the management of the estate. For example, in the Amidei will of 1253, the tutores were not allowed to buy or sell property without the widow's consent, so long as she remained within the household with her son and did not seek the return of her dowry. 50 For wives or sisters named as guardians, see Diplomatico, Codici #20,48, a Cavalcanti will of 1292. Strozziane-Uguccioni, 11 settembre 1298, is an Adimari will in which the tutores were the testator's sisters. A record of their guardianship also survives in Notarile B 1426, 9' (1299). Diplomatico, Carmine di Firenze, 20 aprile 1299, the will of Schalglia de Tisis, names his sisters and requires that they take an oath to carry out his bequests. A Pulci in his will of 1298 made his wife one guardian: Notarile O 3, 40". In the will of Scolaio degli Abati, Diplomatico, Strozziane-Uguccioni, 7 luglio 1296, the wife was made the guardian. Consiglio de Cerchi broke with this pattern, naming as tutores for his six sons and one daughter his kinsmen, including two adult sons: Diplomatico, Archivio Generale dei Contratti, 30 agosto 1291. For men without sons who made elaborate provisions to ensure that their bequests would be carried out, see for example the wills of Nerlo de Nerli, Notarile O 3,127' (1300), and Decchus de Caponsacchis, Diplomatico, Santa Maria Novella, 22 aprile 1300.

JOINT LINEAGE PROPERTY

61

ily, presumably first his children and perhaps his wife, and then his other kin, including sisters and cognatic kin as well as his patrilineage. His brothers, uncles, or cousins might place their own well-being or that of the patrilineage first, and choose not to carry out the testator's wishes. These tendencies are apparent in the will made in 1300 by Schiatta degli Abati, discussed previously. The Abati joint property had certainly become fractionalized: one 120th of the family property must have been a bequest of little tangible value. Schiatta is revealing, however, in that he honored his traditional obligation to the lineage only to the extent of leav­ ing them his share of their joint property. The rest of Schiatta's estate went to just one nephew and to charities. The executors of the will were not Schiatta's kinsmen, but a number of important churchmen. Schiatta also included a clause containing an implicit reproach to his kinsmen: he left 200 libre to be given to the poor by his consortes on behalf of his soul within six months of his death. If his relatives failed to do so, they forfeited the property. Each relative in fact was to give a spec­ ified sum from the 200 libre; for example, "dominus Guerrerius et dictus dominus Neri Picchinus inter ambos libras quinquagintas." The nephew was required to give another 300 libre from the estate, with the same stipulations, to receive his bequest. This complex provision cannot be ex­ plained as an effort to make sure that the poor received the funds, because if that had been his concern, Schiatta could have entrusted the funds to the clergy. Instead, the provision is a direct reproach to Schiatta's kins­ men.51 Shared lineage identity after all meant liability for one's kinsmen, even before the enforced collective liability of the Ordinances of Justice. And in the late thirteenth century, the disadvantages in many cases must have outweighed the benefits. An incident survives in one of the notarial texts in which a prominent judge, Guidocto Corbizzi, visited an impoverished relation in prison. At least according to the text, Guidocto was moved by pietas because the man was a kinsman, and helped him to escape. The judge was promptly made liable for his cousin's debts, which had been the reason for the man's imprisonment. The judge handed his relative back to the prison authorities the very same day.52 51 Diplomatico, Santa Maria Novella, 9 febbraio 1300/1. A Strinati will of 1292 may have been similar: Neri Strinati describes his kinsman Procaccio as leaving his shares of joint property to his kinsmen "sotto certe condizioni," "Cronichetta," p. 115. See also the will of Lapo di Albizzo de Nerli, Diplomatico, Sant'Appollonia, 24 ottobre 1313, which will be discussed in chapter 4. 52 Notarile C 102, 191r"v (15 June 1297). Guidocto was probably a member of the Cor­ bizzi lineage; the prisoner, called Guidocto's cuginus, was "Forese quondam Rinuccii Paganelli."

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The lineage had been adopted by the patriciate during the period of rapid urban growth as a means of mutual protection and close cooperation among agnatic kin. The medieval lineage was never a fixed, corporate group having a formal leadership. Rather, it had a relative existence, fluc­ tuating by individual and family and by situation. In the mid-thirteenth century, many of the magnate lineages did hold substantial urban prop­ erty jointly. These properties were important, but fragmentary evidence suggests that lineage members were unwilling to create any permanent lineage captain, presumably because they were afraid to allow anyone exclusive control over the property. By the late thirteenth century, this enforced solidarity was becoming burdensome. It was exacerbated by the political turmoil of the period: lineage solidarity could lead to exile and even impoverishment. In re­ sponse, kinsmen began to break up their joint property and to drop the most disadvantageous aspects of the lineage.53 There was also a greater tendency for individuals, particularly testators, to look for aid not only to kinsmen but to institutions, including the guilds, the Dominicans and Franciscans, and the commune. What of the subsequent history of Florentine lineages? We do not have studies of families for the critical period of transition, the first half of the fourteenth century.54 Several historians have recently studied a handful of patrician lineages in the late fourteenth and fifteenth centuries, working from the rich sources of the ricordanze and the catasto.55 These families did not have extensive joint lineage property, suggesting that the pattern described here as new for the magnates in the late thirteenth century may have become more general. However, the result was not the breakdown of the extended family and the rise of the individual, but rather a new flowering of more voluntary kinship ties. The work of Susannah Foster on the Alberti suggests a greater stress on the kindred and on parentadi, ties created by marriage alliances. Elaine Rosenthal in a recent study of 53 Bizzochi carefully documents the lack of economic ties among the Buondelmonti by the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries in "La dissoluzione di un clan familiare." See F. W. Kent, Household and Lineage, chap. 3, for a general discussion of this development. He cites a few examples of property owned by consorterie in the fifteenth century, but agrees that property owned collectively was largely gone. As he points out, this does not imply a col­ lapse of family solidarity, or even the end of the "sense of the consorteria's economic iden­ tity." 54 To my knowledge, the research of Clare Baggett on a number of lineages, including both magnates and grandi popolani, in this period has not yet been published. ss See Susannah Foster, "The Ties that Bind: Kinship Association and Marriage in the Alberti Family, 1378—1428" (Ph.D. diss., Cornell University, 1984); Elaine Rosenthal, "Lineage Bonds in Fifteenth Century Florence: The Giovanni, Parenti and Petrucci" (Ph.D. diss., University of London, 1987); Heather Gregory, "A Florentine Family in Crisis: The Strozzi in the Fifteenth Century" (Ph.D. diss., University of London, 1980).

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three families from the so-called gente nuova emphasizes the voluntary quality of cooperation and assistance among kinsmen. The degree of co­ operation varied among these families. The most common form was aid in the provision of dowries and the formation of marriage alliances, but it also routinely included economic assistance.56 What took place from the late thirteenth century was by no means a fading of the lineage, but rather a qualitative change: the ties of kinship played a different, more voluntary role. 56 Rosenthal, "Lineage Bonds," pp. 46—51.1 would like to thank Dr. Rosenthal for mak­ ing her unpublished work available to me.

4 ECCLESIASTICAL RIGHTS AS JOINT PROPERTY

A

MONG THE most valuable lineage assets in medieval Florence were ecclesiastical rights. These rights were a type of property Lthat was prestigious, at times lucrative, and could not be divided. Rights over the church were crucial to some lineages, just as they had been to the older landed nobility, as joint property and as a source of family identity.1 Scholars now argue that patronage rights were a major reason for lineage formation. In the eleventh century, families of the rural nobility had used ecclesiastical patronage as a means of safeguarding their patrimonies. When a family founded a monastery and donated lands for it, the property was protected from alienation or fragmentation, yet still remained under the family's control. Over time, family possession of patronage rights over these churches encouraged patrilineal tendencies, as the rights generally were passed on only through the male line'. They also forced a degree of lineage solidarity in that they were valuable and indivisible property. Other lineages formed because an individual was able to obtain rights over a church: his descendants then remained to­ gether as a family in order to share these rights. When families emigrated to the city, they naturally retained their rights. Urban foundations also were often in the keeping of lay patrons.2 In thirteenth-century Florence, 11 read a version of this chapter at the meeting in 1987 of the American Historical Asso­ ciation, Washington, D.C., where I benefited from the comments of Professor C. J. Wickham. 2 Constance Bouchard has recently criticized the idea that noble donations were moti­ vated by political or economic concerns. See her Sword, Miter and Cloister: Nobility and the Church in Burgundy, 980—1198 (Ithaca, N.Y., and London, 1987), chap. 10. The Flor­ entine lineages studied here, unlike the Burgundians in Bouchard's study, demonstrably con­ tinued to control church resources. On ecclesiastical patronage in Tuscany, see R. Bizzochi, Chiesa e potere nella Toscana del Quattrocento (Bologna, 1987); G. Brucker, "Urban Par­ ishes and their Clergy in Quattrocento Florence: A Preliminary Sondage," in Renaissance Studies in Honor of Craig Hugh Smyth, ed. A. Morrogh, F. S. Gioffredi, P. Morselli, and E. Borsook (Florence, 1985), vol. 1, pp. 17—28; and Storia d'ltalia, Annali IX: La chiesa e il potere politico dal Medioevo all'eta contemporanea, ed. G. Chittolini and G. Miccoli (Turin, 1986). For patronage rights in canon law, see P. Landau, Ius Patronatus. Studien zur Entwicklung des Patronatus im Dekretalenrecht und der Kanonistik des 12. und 13. Jahrhunderts (Cologne and Vienna, 1975). The two major histories of the Florentine church are G. Richa, Notizie istoriehe delle chiese fiorentine (Florence, 1762) and W. and E. Paatz, Die Kirchen von Florenz (Frankfurt am Main, 1954). Vincenzio Borghini considered patronage rights to be an aspect of nobility, and included a list of those he could document inhis "Delle

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a number of magnate lineages probably continued to exist despite consid­ erable internal strains because of their ecclesiastical rights. We have seen that thirteenth-century Florentines stressed patrilineal ties as a means of fostering cooperation and maintaining strategic re­ sources. Lineages with ecclesiastical rights offer the best examples, for two reasons. First, the documentation survives, as occasional records of the use (and abuse) of these rights were preserved in church archives. In this period, for which internal family records are rare and fragmentary, these texts offer a window into the internal structure and workings of thirteenth-century lineages. In particular, evidence for three lineages with extensive rights survives—the Visdomini-Tosinghi, the BuondelmontiScolari, and the Nerli. Second, the indivisibility of the rights forced a de­ gree of lineage solidarity: some lineages held together for three centuries, despite considerable tensions, because of their joint ownership of patron­ age rights. This means that records of the administration of ecclesiastical rights reveal the tensions within some lineages at the end of the thirteenth century.

Ecclesiastical Rights and Lineage Identity The Visdomini-Tosinghi-Aliotti are the most dramatic example of a lin­ eage existing over a long period of time because of its ecclesiastical rights.3 The family founder, Davizo, was a layman who served as episco­ pal caretaker, or vicedominus, from 1009 to 1054. Davizo's descendants made this originally ecclesiastical office their inheritable property, and the office title became their surname. Over time, they divided into branches, with distinct surnames. When Davizo's nephew, called Davizino, held the office, his descendants took his wife's name as surname and became the Famiglie Nobili Fiorentini," ASF Manoscritti 190, 3, pp. 37—45. George Dameron now argues that ecclesiastical rights were a crucial factor in magnate factionalism: see his "Re­ visiting the Magnates: Church Property and Social Conflict, 1267-1343," paper presented to the Renaissance Society of America, April 1989.1 appreciate his making his unpublished work available to me. 3 Davidsohn, Storia vol. 1, pp. 507-8; vol. 5, pp. 394—95. On the Visdomini, see Stahl, Adel und Volk, pp. 63—65; Fiumi, "Fioritura e decadenza," pp. 395, 403, 415—16; Raveggi, Ghibellini, Guelfi e popolo grasso, p. 13; Sznura, L'espansione urbana, p. 55. See also George Dameron, Episcopal Power and Florentine Society, 1000—1320 (Harvard University Press, 1991), and "Social Conflict and Iurisdictio Episcopalis in the Florentine Contado: A Study of the Episcopal Estate, 850—1321" (Ph.D. diss., Harvard University, 1983), esp. chap. 1 on the Visdomini and the Bullettone. I would like to thank Professor Dameron for making his dissertation available to me.

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della Tosa or Tosinghi.4 In time, the Aliotti formed another branch. Nev­ ertheless, all considered themselves Visdomini. The lineages were settled in Florence near the cathedral, with the della Tosa established in the area between the market and the baptistry, and the Visdomini just to the west of Santa Reparata; one of the gates of the twelfth-century walls was named for the family. They also were the founders and patrons of their parish church, San Michele Visdomini. In the thirteenth century, the Visdomini exerted a remarkable degree of control over the bishopric, and profited from it. There were eleven vacan­ cies between 1204 and 1323; between 1274 and 1323 the see was vacant for a total of almost seventeen years. During these periods the Visdomini administered the episcopal estate. They were so closely identified with the bishopric that some of them lived in the episcopal palace, which they en­ larged and decorated with the family crest.5 In 1276, during the long va­ cancy after the death of Bishop Giovanni de' Mangiadori, the Visdomini went so far as to assert the right to name local political and military offi­ cials on episcopal lands, a direct challenge to communal authority.6 Dante considered them disgraceful. When the pilgrim Dante interviews his ancestor Cacciaguida in the Paradiso, he condemns the Visdomini as "those who when the see is vacant fatten themselves at the consistory" ("coloro / che, siempre che la vostra chiesa vaca, / si fanno grassi stando a consistoro").7 The importance of the rights to the lineage is perhaps best revealed by a document of 1301, which records the lineage gathering as patrons to participate in the election of a new priest for their parish church, San Michele Visdomini. Fifty-eight adult male Visdomini, Aliotti, and Tosinghi showed up to take a symbolic part in the decision, some of them arriving several days after the election in order to ensure that their names appeared on the instrumentum. Probably, this was close to the entire lin­ eage.8 The fact that all of them took the trouble to participate suggests that lineage identity itself was closely linked to possession of the rights. The Buondelmonti-Scolari were another lineage directly associated with the church. They derived from the Montebuoni, probably a family of minor nobles. In 1092, Ranierius de Montebuono took an oath of vas4 On the della Tosa, see Fiumi, "Fioritura e decadenza," pp. 415,418; Parenti, Ghibellini, Guelfi e popolo grasso, p. 320n.; Davidsohn, Forscbungen i, 77—79. Tosa played an active role in church affairs even during her husband's lifetime; see the text of 1127 depicting her as receiving a donation of behalf of Santa Maria Maggiore, in Le carte della canonica della cattedrale di Firenze, ed. R. Piattoli, Regesta Chartarum Italiae, 23 (Rome, 1938): 173. 5 Davidsohn, Firenze ai tempi di Dante, pp. 16-17. 6 Diplomatico, Strozziane-Uggucioni, 1276. 7 Dante, Paradiso, canto xvi, lines 110—14. 8 Diplomatico, Riformagioni, 6 dicembre 1301.

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salage to the bishop of Florence, though whether the family originated as episcopal vassals or were forced into vassalage out of weakness is uncer­ tain.9 The family took their name from their castello of Montebuoni, built on a site that commanded the Greve and the road to Siena. One of the early chroniclers describes the Montebuoni fighting in the Florentine army, as episcopal vassals, in an attack on the Ormanni family castle, Montegufoni, when they realized that their own castle was next in line and secretly left the army to return home and prepare their defenses.10 This was to no avail: the Montebuoni castle was razed in October of 1135. The Montebuoni were the patrons of the pieve, or baptismal church, in Impruneta, Santa Maria Impruneta. This was the wealthiest church in the Florentine contado, judging from its assessment in a papal tithe of the 1270s.11 Along with Impruneta, they also held rights to the parish churches of San Miniato di Robbiano, San Piero in Bossolo, and Giogoli, all founded in the early eleventh century, together with smaller churches under their aegis.12 Unlike many rural nobles, the Buondelmonti and Scolari became active in the life of the commune. Davidsohn found evidence that at least one family member had a house in Florence as early as 1048.13 When the parish church of Santa Maria sopr'Arno was founded on the south side of the Arno, it was subject to the church in Impruneta,and therefore in­ directly under the control of the Buondelmonti.14 In 1299, lineage repre9 Ranerius quondam Ranerii de Montebuono in 1092 swore that the castrum of Monte­ buoni was episcopal property: ASF, Manoscritti, II, Bullettone, 259—60. Davidsohn believed that they had been weakened and forced into fealty, Storia vol. 1, p. 422. Villani called them "cattani e antichi gentili uomini di contado," Cronica, vol. 4, p. 36; see Fiumi, "Fioritura e decadenza," p. 410. On the Buondelmonti-Scolari, see Santini, "Studi sull'antica costituzione," p. 38; Stahl, Adel und Volk, pp. 70—71. There is a quademo of copies of family records, dating largely from the later period: ASF, Acquisti e Doni, 186. 10 The story is in Sanzanome, p. 5; see Davidsohn, Storia vol. 1, pp. 617—18. 11 The tithe was "supposedly fixed in proportion to ecclesiastical revenues," and Impru­ neta had the highest assessment in the Florentine contado, 114 pounds. See D. Herlihy, "Santa Maria Impruneta: A Rural Commune in the Late Middle Ages," in Florentine Stud­ ies (London, 1968), ed. N. Rubinstein, p. 244. On the Buondelmonti patronage rights, see also R. Bizzochi, "La dissoluzione di un clan familiare," Archivio storico italiano 140, no. 511 (1982): 3-45. 12 For a map, see Bizzochi, "La dissoluzione," pp. 44—45. 13 Davidsohn, Storia vol. 1, pp. 509-510; the text is Badia di Coltibuono, 21 maggio 1048, printed in Regesto di Coltibuono, ed. D. L. Pagliai, Regesta Chartarum Italiae, 38 (Rome, 1909), n. 38. Other early references include a number of texts in San Vigilio di Siena, gennaio 1103, 25 aprile 1113, 31 maggio 1137,12 gennaio 1137, and gennaio 1152. These mention four sons of Ranierus: Uguicio, Russo, Paganello, and Ranucino; Davidsohn ar­ gues that the Buondelmonti branch were the descendants of Uguicio, Storia vol. 1, p. 618n. 14 The priest was named by the plebanus at Impruneta. See G. Richa, Notizie istoriche, vol. 4, part 2, p. 308.

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sentatives assembled in order to fill two vacancies. Termed "capitanes provisores et dispensatores et consiliarios illorum de domo Montebuoni scilicet Bondelmonti et Scholariorum," they included six men, three from each branch.15 It is possible that they were permanent lineage heads. What did lay patronage actually involve? The problem is a difficult one, as practice, shaped by custom, varied from one convent to the next. After the Gregorian reform, as Wilhelm Kurze has shown for Camaldoli, fam­ ilies renounced private lordship over a church, but retained their rights of patronage. This meant essentially formal assent to the election of a new abbot.16 In the thirteenth-century city, however, patronage often gave a family control of a church office. Election processes varied. Sometimes patron families named the priest directly, but more often they either chose a clergyman, who then went on to make the appointment, or they con­ sented to a choice after the fact.17 The offices might be used as sinecures for family members, or to sup­ port clients. A few contemporary texts suggest that these clergymen were perceived as family clients. In 1299 a man testifying on behalf of the Visdomini was asked if he was a Visdomini "domesticus vel familiaris." He replied that he was the capellanus at their rural parish church, Carraia. Pisa in the fourteenth century forbade ecclesiastical patrons to receive gifts and the traditional gestures of homage from the clergy of their churches.18 Rights were linked to the ownership of property in the community that 15 The Montebuoni text is Notarile B 1340, 71v. On the Buondelmonti patronage rights, see Bizzochi, "La dissoluzione," pp. 4—15. For a Pisan example, see the 1212 compromise between the monastery of San Vito and its patrons, ed. C. Sturmann, in Pisa nei secoli XI e XII, ed. G. Rossetti, pp. 325—28. 16 Cammarosano, La famiglia di Berardenghi, pp 82—83; he cites W. Kurze, "Zur Geschichte Camaldolis im Zeitalter der Reform," Il monachesimo e la Riforma ecclesiastica (1049—1122), Atti della quarta Settimana internazionale di studio, Mendola, 23—29 agosto 1968 (Milan, 1971), pp. 399—415. For a brief synthetic look at the relations between church institutions and the nobility in the tenth and eleventh centuries, see Giuseppe Sergi, "Vescovi, monasteri e aristocrazia militare," Storia d'ltalia, Annali 9, pp. 73—98. 17 For other examples of magnate lineages exercising their patronage rights in clerical elections, see Notarile B 1340, 22v, a text of 1297 in which the Amidei and the Gherardini consented as patrons to an election; Notarile C 102, 155v, in which seventeen Bardi named three family members to choose a priest at San Michele de Monte Trepaldi; 156r is the election, and 157r an inventory of the church. Diplomatico, dono Cerchi-Canigiani, #18, dating from 1282, records an effort by the Cerchi to exercise rural patronage rights, unsuc­ cessfully challenged by the bishop of Fiesole. For parish representatives naming a capellanus in 1297, see Notarile B 2166, lr. This was the Nerli parish of San Frediano, and three of the six consiliarios were Nerli. 18 For the capellanus, see Diplomatico Archivio generale, 2 marzo 1298/9, discussed later in this chapter. On Pisa, Bizzochi, "Patronato politico," p. 97, cites a study I have not seen: M. Ronzani, Un aspetto della "Chiesa di Citta" a Pisa nel Due e Trecento: ecclesiastici e laid nella scelta del clero parrochiale.

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included the church. When some large properties were sold, patronage rights were transferred as well. In 1224 the Lamberti sold to the com­ mune the castrum of Trevalli, including the patronage rights.19 Again, when the commune in 1309 purchased the Mozzi palaces Oltrarno, it also received the family rights and honors at the parish church of San Gregorio, together with the house and garden and other properties of the church.20 Patronage rights were distinct from the rights of so-called guardians, who at least in medieval Florence held the usurped and inherited office of estate administrator. The Visdomini were founders and patrons at San Michele Visdomini, and played a role in the selection of the priest, but simply the guardians of the bishopric. The Buondelmonti, by contrast, were considered the legitimate patrons at Impruneta, and participated in clerical elections for all the churches under its aegis. Beyond the control of a church office, both the Visdomini and the Buondelmonti found ways to play ceremonial roles, roles that displayed their links to the temporal and even the spiritual power of the church. Santa Maria at Impruneta possessed a famous miracle-working icon of the Virgin Mary.21 In times of natural catastrophe the icon was carried in procession around the city of Florence as a way of asking the Virgin for aid. The Buondelmonti associated themselves with the icon as best they could. In 1330, in the midst of a legal fight over their rights, they directly argued that their close association with the icon was evidence of the legit­ imacy of their rights over the church.22 The earliest known procession of the icon, described by Mattheo Villani, took place in 1354. In that year the countryside was threatened with drought, and after the failure of other remedies, including continual pro­ cessions, the Florentines decided to invoke the aid of the Virgin. The clergy, the priors, and communal officials, together with most of the men, women, and children of the city, waited at the San Pier Gattolino gate, bearing with them the arm of St. Philip the Apostle, the head of St. Zanobius, and other relics. The icon was carried down to Florence by the Buondelmonti, as patrons of the church, accompanied by the people of the pieve. They were joined by the bishop and after a procession around Florence the picture was returned to its tabernacle. It worked: four days later it rained.23 The Buondelmonti were able to use the procession to 19

Capitoli, xxvi, 100'-102r. Diplomatico, Riformagione Appendice, 6 novembre 1309. 21 G. B. Casotti, Memorie istoriche della miracolosa immagine di Maria Vergine dell'Impruneta (Florence, 1714). 22 For the text, see Casotti, Memorie istoriche, vol. 1, p. 96. 23 The description is by Matteo Villani, in Cronica, book 4. His wife was a Buondelmonti, so that he had some interest in mentioning their role. On the history of the icon and the 20

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publicly display their power. Probably, they had played a similar role in earlier processions. The Visdomini part in the ritual installation of a new bishop in July 1286 is described in a text included in the Bullettone, a compilation of documents put together by the lineage in the early fourteenth century to bolster their rights over the see.24 The text is thus clearly biased, designed to reinforce Visdomini authority. The author carefully cites witnesses at crucial—and perhaps contested—points in the ritual. Further, the cere­ mony may have been atypical. The episcopal election of 1286, occurring after almost a twelve-year vacancy, was contested, and the losing candi­ date was a family member, Lottieri della Tosa. Thus the family were par­ ticularly interested in a show of power. Nevertheless, the role in the cer­ emony by the Visdomini—who after all were laymen—is remarkable.25 The new bishop was greeted outside the gate of the city by a delegation headed by the podesta and the captain of the guilds, together with a pro­ cession of clerics including the cathedral canons and all the monks and friars of the city, to the sound of trumpets and other instruments. The miter was placed on the new bishop's head and he was seated on horse­ back. Then garlanded representatives of the Visdomini literally led the bishop into the city, two of them, termed the adextratores, holding the reins of his horse and four more, the portatores, lifting a golden baldacchino over his head, with other lineage members following close behind. The Visdomini went on to guide the new bishop through two days of ceremonial. He first visited the venerable convent of San Pier Maggiore, where the abbess provided a banquet that was consumed, according to the Bullettone account, by the bishop, members of his familia, many cler­ ics, and many Visdomini. The new bishop then, remarkably enough, spent the night on a bed prepared by the abbess in the convent. The fol­ lowing morning the Visdomini, still garlanded, met him and after dress­ ing him in the episcopal vestments, led the procession to the cathedral of Santa Reparata. The ceremonial roles of portatores and adextratores con­ tinued, with some individuals retaining their roles and some changed. At one point the canons urged the bishop to say mass, while the Visdomini insisted that it was customary for the bishop to say his first mass at the procession, see Casotti, Memorie istoriche, pp. 94-95; also R. Trexler, Public Life in Re­ naissance Florence (New York: 1980), pp. 63—70. 24 On the Bullettone, originally redacted in 1323, see Dameron, "Social Conflict," chap. 1. For a brief discussion of the Visdomini role in episcopal ceremonial, see R. Trexler, The Libro Ceremoniale of the Florentine Republic (Geneva, 1978), pp. 24—25. 25 Bullettone, 356—59. This is only one of a number of extant copies of the document, which was also edited by Lami, Sanctae ecclesiae florentinae monumenta (Florence, 1758), vol. 3, part 2. On the episcopal elections, see also Davidsohn, Storia vol. 3, pp. 401—2. Lottieri della Tosa ultimately did become bishop, in 1301.

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church of San Giovanni. Visdomini stayed with the bishop every inch of the way, according to the text; when he entered the cathedral of Santa Reparata, for example, he was "preceded and surrounded by Visdomini." Ultimately, they placed him on the episcopal throne, led him to the bap­ tistry of San Giovanni, and then finally to the chapel of the episcopal palace, where Ciampi della Tosa and Lottieri Visdomini, the two men described in 1277 as living in the palace, handed over the keys.26 That evening the Visdomini dined with the bishop. At every point, the Visdomini sought to assert their primacy, their con­ trol of the office and its appurtenances. George Dameron has shown that the contest between the Visdomini and the canons over where the new bishop first said the mass was linked both to a property dispute between the two groups and to the Adimari-della Tosa feud.27 Other points in the ceremonial that were probably at issue were meals and gifts. The text insists, for example, that the bed prepared by the abbess at San Pier Maggiore, together with its linens, was ultimately given to the bishop. The abbess in turn received the bishop's horse, which was perhaps less valu­ able. The right to ceremonial meals was an important mark of patronage. In 1301, when Lottieri della Tosa finally did become bishop, a number of canons and family members accompanied him to the meal at San Pier Maggiore. The abbess served them all dinner, but afterwards lodged a protest. Perhaps she begrudged them the meal and the expense, but her more important concern must have been avoiding the establishment of a precedent that might extend Visdomini or episcopal rights over her con­ vent.28 This emphasis on the right to eat and sleep at a church is echoed in a remarkable text of 1299, in which the Visdomini sought to prove their claim to patronage of their urban parish church, San Michele Visdomini. Six old men were produced as witnesses and questioned on a list of points. Each stated that as long as he could remember the Visdomini had been the patrons. Lottieri di Lottieri Bossi, who thought he was around seventy years old asserted that as long as he could remember the Visdo­ mini had been patrons, and the rector had honored them. Asked how the rector honored them, he replied, "in receiving them in the church and in his houses day and night and in giving them and theirs whatever they wanted to eat and drink, and not denying them anything they wished from the church." The right of the patrons was the right to take what they chose. Rinaldo di Faville testified that he had seen the men "of the Vis26 The

ceremony is detailed in the Bullettone; see Davidsohn, Storia vol. 3, pp. 401-2. G. Dameron, "Family Power and the Defense of Lordship in the Florentine Diocese, 1000-1350," Proceedings of the American Historical Association (December 1987). 28 The protest of the abbess is Diplomatico, San Pier Maggiore, 24 febbraio 1301/2. 27 See

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domini house enter and leave the church as patrons, and eat and drink and use the things of the church"; they also kept a chest in the sacristy containing records, with two keys, one held by the Visdomini and one by the Tosinghi. Each witness made the same point: they came and went both by day and by night, they ate and drank at the church, they slept at the church, they were accustomed to use the things of the church as their own.29 The third example of a lineage existing because of ecclesiastical rights is the Nerli, a lineage derived from the general area of Settimo. They may have had some connection—though certainly a humble one—with the great feudal family in the area, the Cadolingi.30 A man called ser Nerlo who came from the castrum of the Cadolingi, Monte Cascioli, in 1107 acted as proctor on behalf of a convent in the area, Santa Maria at Mantignano. This was a church that had been founded by the Cadolingi in the 1080s, and was independent of the bishopric, under the direct rule of the pope in Rome. The church was founded in a period when the bishop com­ peted with noble families for agricultural property in the region, and the Cadolingi may have built the convent primarily as a means of administer­ ing and protecting its estates.31 It was probably because of some connec­ tion with the Cadolingi that ser Nerlo was able to act for the church, receiving a Cadolingi donation on its behalf.32 In 1113 the Cadolingi line failed, precipitating a scramble for their many properties.33 Somehow, the descendants of ser Nerlo kept up the 29 Diplomatico, Archivio generale, 2 marzo 1298/99. The parchment is incomplete, breaking off at the beginning of the interrogation of the sixth witness. Several of these men were demonstrably Visdomini associates and perhaps clients, including a kinsman, the priest from their rural parish at Carraia, and a neighbor who stated that he was not a Visdomini "domesticus vel familiaris." However, his name, "Lottierus quondam Lotterii Rossi," may indicate some influence at least at family christenings. The witnesses were used to prove a list of sixteen points, showing that it was public knowledge that the Visdomini were the patrons, that they named the rectors, were treated as patrons, paid for the special festivals of the church and invited whom they chose, and so forth. Judging from the text, the idea that patronage meant the right to eat, drink, and sleep at the church came from the witnesses. Why the Visdomini were proving their claim to the church in 1299 is unclear, though it may have related to the plans for the Duomo. The church ultimately was moved because of the building of the new cathedral. 30 On the Cadolingi, see Cinzio Violante, "Quelques caracteristiques des structures familiales en Lombardie, Emilie et Toscane aux Xie et xne siecles," Famille et parente, pp. 87— 147; Enrico Coturi, "Le famiglie feudali della Val di Nievole (secoli xii—xiv)," I ceti dirigenti dell'eta comunale net secoli XII e XIII (Pisa, 1982), pp. 267—78. 311 would like to thank Professor George Dameron for this suggestion. 32 The text is Diplomatico, Santa Appollonia, 21 novembre 1107. On the convent at Mantignano, see I Dintorni di Firenze, ed. A. Conti (Florence, 1983), p. 198. It was united with Sant'Appollonia by the fifteenth century. 33 On the extinction of the Cadolingi line, see Davidsohn, Storia vol. 1, pp. 547-54.

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relationship with the convent, receiving donations and also trading and selling property back and forth. These descendants named themselves in ways that traced their relationships back to ser Nerlo, as for example Ugo di Ugo Nerli. In short, Nerlo's name became the lineage surname. Appar­ ently the office of proctor for the convent was both prestigious and lucra­ tive, and the descendants of ser Nerlo hung on to it, treating the job as inheritable family property. In effect, they probably constituted them­ selves as a lineage because of the office.34 The Nerli followed the pattern typical of lesser members of the consu­ lar aristocracy. It is not known when they began to move to town; a fa­ ther and son show up in a tower society pact in 1178. In the 1220s a few Nerli held minor political and judicial offices.35 They also picked up titles, perhaps derived from the commune.36 They settled Oltrarno, in three par­ ishes. Many of them lived in Borgo San Frediano, on the periphery of the city.37 They also retained their rural properties and their hold over the convent. In the second half of the century, the Nerli and the abbess drew up pacts defining their rights and obligations, explicitly naming the family as the patrons of the church.38 The pact was redrawn every twelve years. The first to survive dates from 1273 but may not be the earliest drawn up. Possibly, it was during the Ghibelline period in the 1260s that the Nerli were able to assert patronage rights over the church. A number of Nerli family members were prominent Ghibellines.39 Again, it may be that some of the Nerli were in financial difficulties during this period, so 34 See, for example, Sant' Appollonia, 3 marzo 1148/9, 16 dicembre 1160, 23 settembre 1172, 19 aprile 1238, 3 maggio 1269. 35The tower society pact is Diplomatico, Strozziane-Uguccioni, 19 gennaio 1179: see Documenti, ed. Santini, Appendix n, n. 3, p. 519; for consular office, Badia di Firenze, 1 gennaio 1219/20, printed by Santini, p. 240. A Nerli served as a podesta for Montecastello in Val d'Era in 1203: see Davidsohn, Storia vol. 1, p. 1033. 3i This contradicts Malispini, Istoria fiorentina, ed. V. Follini (Florence 1816), book 52, who believed that the Nerli were derived from the landed nobility and had received their arms directly from Ugo the marchese of Tuscany; but on the impossibility of this heraldic source, see Hannelore Zug Tucci, "Istituzioni araldiche e pararaldiche nella vita toscana del Duecento," in Nobilta e ceti dirigenti in Toscana nei secoli XI—XIII: strutture e concetti, (Florence, 1982), p. 65. 37 On San Frediano, see Sznura, L'espansione urbana, pp. 121-22. Originally an extraurban community in the eleventh century, it was considered part of the city by 1202. Thus residence in San Frediano does not imply late immigration into the city. 38 The pact is Diplomatico, Sant'Appollonia, 5 luglio 1273; see also 16 aprile 1279 and 17 dicembre 1291. 39 Raveggi, in Ghibellini, Guelfi e Popolo Grasso, p. 71, found three Nerli serving in office during this period.

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that their new administration of these church estates would reveal finan­ cial weakness rather than (or in combination with) political power. The pacts reveal not only the Nerli administration of convent property but the internal makeup of the lineage. In 1279, twenty-two Nerli were listed. This was by no means all the members of the lineage; in fact, one whole branch of the family does not appear. The rights were divided into thirds, with each third owned by members of a single branch of the fam­ ily. Again, other rights that were more honorary than profitable were shared by the entire lineage. Figure 4.1 shows this contrast, setting out the parish patrons named in 1264, and the smaller group of convent pa­ trons, divided into thirds, as named in 1279 and 1291. The pact was drawn up to allow each of the three branches a direct voice. Each branch picked two men, an agent and a counselor, drawn from their own ranks, to administer the convent's estates. They served a year, so that new agents and counselors were chosen annually by each branch. And at the end of their term they were required to give a reck­ oning to their successors. These agents managed the convent's estates. A fixed sum was given to the abbess for the support of the nuns and the convent staff, and the re­ mainder was apparently divided among the patrons. The revenues were substantial. They were paid largely in produce, but their cash value was estimated by the abbess's representatives in 1316 at 875 libre per year. Perhaps it was because these rights were so lucrative that the various branches of the Nerli were unwilling to rely on any informal system of governance. A number of notebooks detailing their administration sur­ vive, and these name the agents.40 The job was rotated: there are always three, one from each branch. Some names recur and some never appear. Selection as an agent must have depended on a man's availability, inter­ est, and talent. The Nerli must have devised this system because they were not willing to trust these substantial profits to an informal arrangement with distant kinsmen. They treated less lucrative rights very differently. In 1265, the Nerli met as patrons to name a new priest for the parish church of San Pietro at Sulicciano. They are named in Figure 4.1. These parish rights in fact belonged to the convent, according to the later court case. Twentytwo Nerli met along with twenty-five parishioners and compromised on a clergyman who was charged with naming the new priest. He chose a Nerli, one of the patrons listed in the text. The abbess gave her consent.41 40 They are filed under Diplomatico, Sant'Appollonia, 18 giugno 1279 and 15 agosto 1283. 41 Diplomatico, Sant'Appollonia, 16 febbraio 1264. When another vacancy developed in 1303, the Nerli named the priest directly, again choosing a kinsman: Sant'Appollonia, 20

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Parish Patrons in 1264

Convent Patrons in I29I

Figure 4.1. Ownership of Joint Property by the Nerli, 1264-1291.

The Visdomini and the NerH, then, probably constituted themselves as lineages because of their ecclesiastical rights. The Buondelmonti origins are less certain, though it is clear that the lineage persisted for centuries because of its grip on the church at Impruneta. These rights gave lineages novembre 1303. By 1324 the convent had regained control: Sant'Appollonia, 11 luglio 1324.

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power, often including control of a church office, status, and even a role in sacred ceremonial. As we shall see, the rights also could be lucrative.

The Exploitation of Ecclesiastical Rights In thirteenth-century Florence, patronage was not considered exploitative or dishonorable. On the contrary, patrons protected and built the insti­ tutions under their care. The very stones used to repair the church of San Michele Visdomini came from those left over from the construction of a Visdomini family palace. The patrons paid for the major festivals of their church, and had the right to invite whom they chose. These ideas appear in the records of a dramatic legal battle over the rights at Impruneta. In 1319, the Bardi family, perhaps weary of tolerating the Buondelmonti as indirect patrons of their parish church, Santa Maria sopr'Arno, sought to displace the ancient rights of the Buondelmonti at Impruneta. Through the agency of the Avignon papacy, they attempted to place a Bardi family member as priest. The result was a long and violent dispute.42 In a 1322 legal defense of the Buondelmonti patronage, the represen­ tatives of the church argued that the Buondelmonti had built and en­ dowed the church, then protected it from any threat of oppression and augmented its wealth, acting with reverence and devotion. In fact, as far as temporal goods were concerned, the state of the pieve had always been closely linked to the state of the Buondelmonti. When they prospered, the pieve and the church prospered as well.43 The Imprunetan clergy had a good deal at stake, as Frederic de Bardis, the papal appointee, had threat­ ened to throw them all out when he took office. Nevertheless, the text is a passionate legal defense of the legitimacy of the Buondelmonti patron­ age. Despite the respectability of patronage, there is evidence that the eco­ nomic and political pressures of the 1270s, 1280s, and 1290s led some nobles to use church resources to protect or bolster their position. Per­ haps the most unattractive example was the scandal over the city's main leprosarium, San Eusebio. The hospital was occupied and its resources used by a number of men including a Tornaquinci and two della Tosa, Rossellino and Odaldo. The commune in 1294 took action to dispossess them, reform the hospital, and return it to its original purpose, placing it under the care of the Calimala guild.44 42 On this dispute, which would repay study in depth, see Davidsohn, Storia vol. 7, pp. 39-42. 43 The text is Diplomatico, dono Rinuccini, 25 febbraio 1321/2. 44 Capitoli xxvi, 149v—154'. See Davidsohn, Firenze at tempi di Dante, pp. 84—85; Forschungen, iv, 392. The leprosarium had originally been in the keeping of the Calimala.

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During this period, all three of the lineages studied here squeezed their ecclesiastical rights. Both the Buondelmonti and the Nerli were driven to draw up pacts in order to protect the interests of their churches. In 1280, a group of Buondelmonti met because they considered that some family members were overburdening the resources of the church at Impruneta. The brief notarial pact begins with the legal consent of fifteen Buondelmonti men to the arrangement, with some represented by brothers or sons. They then named three "arbitros et arbitratores statutores et reformatores." The pact speaks to the problem of lineage administration of joint property. It is clear that the authority of the arbiters was temporary and strictly limited to devising statutes governing the family's exercise of its patronage rights, and that they received that authority only through the explicit consent of the adult males of the lineage. Whether this implies that the capitanes named by the lineage nineteen years later were also temporary is uncertain. The Buondelmonti naming of arbiters actually resembles the method used outside the family to resolve disputes through the appointment of mutually agreed-upon arbitrators.45 The arbiters then laid down the rules. For almost all of the following year, no one was to use the church at Impruneta for anything but supplies for horses and food when traveling through the parish. They were not to go there without cause.46 Why some Buondelmonti were overusing the church is unclear. The economic interests of lineage members were largely rural, though the no­ tarial texts contain scattered references to individuals lending money. In the 1269 Liber Extimationum, their substantial losses, valued at 1775 libre, were all in the contado. There were considerable economic dispar­ ities between lineage members, and perhaps some men who did not enjoy wealth commensurate with their status were tempted to exploit their rights over the church. In 1274 the three sons of Cece were forced to repudiate their inheritance as bankrupt.47 They contrast with the well-to45 The Buondelmonti dispute over their patronage rights is Notarile 1104,44v (1280). For a dispute between one of the Buondelmonti and the parish of Santa Maria Impruneta, see I 104, 125v (1282). For a peace pact between a converse of the parish and a Scolari who had struck him, see I 104, 89' (1281/2); another Scolari acted as a guarantor for that same converso in a dispute, 1104, 4V (1279). There are also considerable internal records, includ­ ing a Buondelmonti repudiation of an unprofitable inheritance, Notarile R 40, 2r (1274), the record of a Buondelmonti apparently handing over property to a young woman as her dowry, Codice 20, 44 (1294), and of a Buondelmonti receiving his wife's sizable dowry of 1,400 gold florins and 19 soldi, Diplomatico, Adespote-coperte di libri, 12 gennaio 1296/7. For the 1297 will of a Buondelmonti daughter, see Notarile O 3, 39v—40v; for a Scolari widow seeking repayment of her dowry from her sons, 1104, 39v (1280); and for a Scolari division of common property, B 1340, 28r (1297). 46 Notarile 1104, vol. 1,44v. 47 Notarile R 40, 2'. They were not impoverished, as they had been owed property worth

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do young Locto di Buondelmonte, whose father in 1297 received on his son's behalf the princely dowry of 1,400 gold florins.48 It also may be that youths from the lineage were simply dropping in for meals too often. In patrician families, sons often were not allowed an adult economic or familial role until the death or dotage of their fathers. The result, as David Herlihy has pointed out, were gangs of well-to-do young men without responsibilities, who became a major source of urban violence.49 Perhaps idle Buondelmonti youth were riding out to the parish and consuming its goods too frequently. The point cannot be proven, but it is suggestive that the pact carefully included sons and younger brothers. Whatever the reason for their depredations, the lineage acted quickly to restrain its members and protect the interests of the churches under its care. This was not the end of the priest's troubles with the patrons. In 1282, the priest and canons at Impruneta accused messer Gentile of the Buondelmonti of appropriating land that belonged to the church.s0 The Visdomini in this period freely borrowed episcopal revenues. Their diversion of the funds is revealed in fragmentary texts dating from the long vacancy after the death of Bishop Guido de'Mangiadori. The texts are written in Italian, lack notarial signatures, and are systematically marked with a sketch of a bishop's miter, suggesting that they may have been part of a system of internal administrative records. In 1277, 856 libre were divided among eight men, or their heirs. The share allotted to Ciampi della Tosa went to his daughters, who were, respectively, married to Pazzino dei Pazzi and Gherardo Buondelmonti, suggesting the com­ plicity of at least these two members of major Guelf lineages in the Visdomini use of episcopal funds. The money was supposed to be paid back. Why these particular eight individuals received the funds is not obvious. Each was from a different branch of the lineage, which, like the rotation of ceremonial roles in the episcopal entry, might indicate some sort of representative system. Smaller amounts did somehow trickle to other family members, judging from the repayment of 10 libre in a will of 1295.51 In 1281 the Visdomini "chomunementi" used 700 libre of the bishop's money to purchase houses in Santa Maria in Campo that were probably 475 libre in the Liber Extimationum, 276, and were later able to borrow sums of money: see Notarile 1104,113v. 48 Diplomatico, Adespote-coperti di libri, 12 gennaio 1296/7. 45 For an extended discussion of this idea, see chap. 9. 50 See Notarile 1104, 125v in which the parties to the dispute agreed on arbiters. Interest­ ingly, messer Gentile owed money to two of the men named as arbiters. See I 104, 121v. 51 This was the will of "Rinaldus filius condam Abatis domini Gherardi Rossi de Vicedominis"; none of his direct ancestors had received funds in 1277. Diplomatico, Acquisto regio, 4 settembre 1295; another copy is in R. Acquisto Miccinese.

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intended for rental. The funds were later repaid. Whether the Visdomini crossed the fine line between interest-free loans and embezzlement is un­ clear; they are not after all likely to have saved records of embezzlement. During this period Ciampi della Tosa and Lottieri de' Visdomini lived in the episcopal palace and apparently habitually and casually borrowed episcopal money for their own business dealings. When Ciampi was on his deathbed in March of 1286, Lottieri reminded him of an outstanding loan. Ciampi did not then have the funds but passed on the obligation to his wife, and not, as one might expect, to his kinsmen. She was liable for more than 147 libre; his daughters, who were his heirs, for the enormous sum of 1196 libre.52 These records survive because Lottieri de' Visdomini called in the loans in order to repay the bishops. Some funds were restored to Jacopo in 1286, some to his successor, Andreas de' Mozzi, the same year.53 A de­ cade later Lottieri's son still had not recovered some of the money, and the obligation to repay may have been resented by some kinsmen. Rinaldo de' Visdomini provided in his will of 1295 that 6 libre were to be repaid to the bishopric if Lottieri's son would hand over the instrumentum that his father held against Rinaldo in that amount.54 Perhaps it was when a family combined patronage rights with the office of agent managing a convent's property that the family was most apt to overstep its bounds. By the 1270s, the Nerli may have used their rights over the convent to embezzle some of its revenues. The pact of 1273 spec­ ifies that certain amounts of grain and other provisions and clothing must be provided for the abbess, the single nun, the priest, and his cleric. Some expenditures also were necessary to maintain the properties. It is not clear what happened to the rest. There is also one proven case of Nerli embez­ zlement, a 1285 purchase of properties in San Frediano, made by all the patrons, using more than 2,500 libre of the convent's money.55 The Nerli may also have used their rights in other ways. The pact pro­ hibited the Nerli from entering the church, monastery, or cemetery for the purposes of a meal, or to carry anything away. But they apparently 52 "Anche a Messer Cianpi predetto nel tempo ch'elgli era e stava a la predetta guardia a la sua persona propia per volonta di Messer Lottieri predetto, stando suo conpangno, vennero a Ie mani de' danari del vescovado predetto, i quali danari elgli spese ne' suoi fatti propi, i quali danari si fuoro libre CXLVII e soldi Χ di piccioli, i quali danari tenea in prestanza dal vescovado predetto per fame suoi fatte, sicome elgli iera usato molte altre volte di chosi torene in prestanza e reddendolgli tutta via a ongni volta al vescovado, a la sua vita." Strozziane-Uguiccioni, 29 maggio 1277; the text describing the joint purchase of houses and the repayment of funds is 30 luglio 1286. The funds owed by Ciampi's daughters probably included their share of the money borrowed in 1277. 53 See Davidsohn, Storia vol. 3, p. 209. 34 Diplomatico, Acquisto regio, 4 settembre 1295. 55 For this purchase, see Diplomatico, Sant' Appollonia, 31 dicembre 1285.

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did so: some Nerli were buried at the convent, with their funeral meals held at the convent's expense. Another obvious use would have been as a solution for unmarriageable daughters. In a lurid passage from the court records of 1318 the abbess claimed that the Nerli promised to return the property purchased with the convent's money if she would take three Nerli women as nuns.56 This would have been a poor deal for the Nerli, given the low cost of entry into the religious life. The exploitation of ecclesiastical rights could contribute to strained re­ lations between kinsmen. All three lineages show evidence of internal dis­ unity in the second half of the century, disunity that was exacerbated by conflict over their rights. The Buondelmonti had long been divided into two lineages, the Scolari and the Buondelmonti. The Scolari were among the Ghibelline leadership, and as many as two dozen of them were ex­ iled.57 The Buondelmonti sided with the Guelfs, and their extensive dam­ ages in the Liber Extimationum suggest the landed wealth and perhaps the unpopularity of some lineage members. Despite their differences, in the thirteenth-century members of both branches of the family met of necessity to administer their rights.58 There were bitter divisions within the Visdomini and della Tosa lin­ eages, some of them detailed by Dino Compagni in his account of the formation of the Black and White factions. Compagni believed that a group of della Tosa, including Bilisardo, Baschiera, and Baldo, sided with the Whites out of hatred of their kinsman Rosso, who had deprived them of their honors. Other della Tosa, including Bishop Lottieri, became Blacks out of hatred of another kinsman, Rossellino, who had taken pos­ session of a castle that was rightfully theirs.59 Thus the lineage was di­ vided over perceived misappropriations of joint property. The relations between Nerli lineage members—as they became em­ broiled in a legal dispute over the rights at Mantignano—offer a vivid example of the limits of lineage solidarity. The case also reveals the op­ posing pressures on Florentine nobles at the end of the century. In the second half of the century, the Nerli lineage was very much a divided one. Nerli fought on both sides at the Battle of Montaperti, and like the Buon56 "[QJuod si ipsa [abbatissa] vellet creare et facere tres mulieres de Nerlis moniales dicti monaster! ipsi [Lapus et Coppus de Nerlis] restituerent eis omnia ista bona." Diplomatico, Sant'Appollonia, 7 ottobre 1318, article xi. Other records include 13 febbraio 1315, 26 gennaio 1315, and 9 luglio 1319. 57 Raveggi, p. 34, counted eight Scolari serving as Ghibelline consuls; for Scolari exiles, see the Libro del Chiodo, Ildefonso di San Luigi, Delizie, vol. 8, p. 251. ss See Notarile B 1340, 38" (1297) and 71v (1299), where the two branches are still de­ scribed as "illorum de domo de Montebuoni." For their participation in the selection of a plebanus for Santa Maria Impruneta, see Diplomatico, Santa Maria degli Angeli, 12 aprile 1298. 59 Dino Compagni, Cronica, book I: chap. 22; book III: chap. 2.

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delmonti-Scolari remained divided between the Guelf and Ghibelline par­ ties.60 They apparently had no shared economic interests beyond the con­ vent's agricultural and rental properties. A Nerli business was founded by one branch of the lineage, the descendants of Gherardino, who lived in Santa Felicita. They had outside partners, but no Nerli outside their im­ mediate branch was involved. Other Nerli can be found in scattered no­ tarial references, buying and selling property or sometimes borrowing or lending sums of money, but there is nothing to suggest that they were not simply acting as individuals.61 The only economic action the Nerli took as a lineage during this period, to my knowledge, was the joint acquisition of property mentioned earlier. It was purchased in thirds, by men from the branches of the lineage that controlled the convent's estates; represen­ tatives of the abbess were later able to prove in court that the property was in fact purchased with the convent's money. In this case, lineage members were constrained to work in concert. Smaller groups of Nerli of course shared a great deal, living in the same neighborhood, holding interests in the same bank, sharing a set of politi­ cal concerns. But as a lineage, all they demonstrably shared were their patronage rights. What of emotional ties, and the less tangible aspects of lineage membership? Kinship could also be terribly confining, particu­ larly when joint property tied one financially to one's irresponsible uncles or cousins. The solution most lineages found to this problem ultimately was to break up their joint property, taking away the major source of strain. However, in the case of ecclesiastical rights, this was not possible. Big families like the Nerli or the Buondelmonti-Scolari were constrained to get along together, at least insofar as they administered their patronage rights. In the first decade of the fourteenth century, several branches of the Nerli found themselves in difficulties. Not surprisingly, they were split between the Black and White factions. In 1302 the Nerli bank failed, and the six Nerli partners fled the city to escape their creditors. In 1303, the commune destroyed Nerli property in order to increase the size of a pi­ azza, vivid evidence of a lack of political clout.62 This does not mean that all the Nerli were failing: Nerlo dei Nerli, for one, was active in civic office during the period.63 60 The bulk of them were Guelf. For their participation in the Guelf Party, see Tarassi, in Raveggi et al., Ghibellini, Guelfi e Popolo Grasso, p. 130n. 61 For the Nerli bank, see the record of its failure in 1302, Diplomatico, 17 luglio 1302. The best source for Nerli financial activities is Notarile B 2166; see, for example, filza 1, 30r, 32r, 33v, 34v, 42T. For their rental properties Oltrarno, see Estimo 1,159,160,163. 62 For the destruction of Nerli property, see Davidsohn, Firenze at tempi di Dante, p. 478. For the business failure, see Davidsohn, Storia vol. 3, p. 301, and Diplomatico, Cestello, 17 luglio 1302, a list of their creditors. 63 On Nerlo speaking in council in June of 1303, see Davidsohn, Storia vol. 4 p. 302n.

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Then in August of 1313 one branch of the family was condemned for heresy. The individual actually accused of Catharism was Gherardo, who was the founder of that branch of the family and who flourished in the 1220s. Judging from the evidence of the Inquisition in the 1240s, he and in particular a group of women in the family probably were Cathars. His postmortem condemnation must have been politically motivated. Be­ cause it extended to the third generation, it meant that his grandson Ghe­ rardo was deprived of his ecclesiastical benefices.64 During the same year, 1313, Vantugio de'Nerli while in ill health suf­ fered a crisis of conscience over his share of the convent's property. De­ spite the pressure he must have felt from his kinsmen to cooperate, he broke ranks with the rest of the family, writing a codicil to his will that freed the convent from any claim on his behalf and restored to it its prop­ erty. In October of that year, another Nerli, Lapo di Albizzo, wrote a similar will, a will that reveals the complex feelings a man could have about his lineage. Lapo stipulated that if his minor son survived he would of course inherit the estate. But if he died, Lapo's property in Santo Stefano, together with its proceeds, would go to the convent. If any of the Nerli made trouble, then the bishop and the head of the Inquisition were to take the property and give it to charity. Clearly, if his boy died Lapo wanted the convent to have peaceful, unmolested possession of the prop­ erty. He also left his property in Monte Cascioli to a group of his Nerli kinsmen, but with the stipulation that they give 100 libre to the bishop and the Inquisitor to be given to charity, and that they do it within six months, or the whole property would go to these churchmen on behalf of the poor. After these rather insulting clauses, Lapo named as guardians for his son a different but overlapping group of kinsmen. In effect, he felt strongly about the convent but had mixed feelings toward his kinsmen. Lapo also stipulated that if he died in the contado he wanted to be buried at Mantignano, but not at the convent's expense. In 1316, after the death of Vantugio, his son and heir Berto acted on the codicil, returning the properties to the church.65 By that time, the abbess at Mantignano had already initiated a case in the court of the podesta to force the Nerli to return the property. The case went on for some time. The abbess's best piece of evidence was the fact that Berto had renounced his share. This meant that the Nerli were driven to make the embarrassing argument that Berto had 64The heresy condemnation is Diplomatico, Sant'Appollonia, 23 agosto 1313; for the evidence of Nerli involvement with the Cathar church, see the documents printed by Felice Tocco, Quel che non c'e nella Divina Commedia, ο Dante e I'eresia (Bologna, 1899). 65 Vantugio's codicil is Diplomatico, Sant'Appollonia, 9 marzo 1312/3; Lapo's will, Sant'Appollonia, 24 ottobre 1313; Berto's renunciation of the property, Sant'Appollonia, 27 maggio 1316.

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not been sane at the time he had made these statements.66 The abbess ultimately won the case, and all the Nerli, including illegitimate sons and men who had no share in the rights over the convent, were forbidden to disturb the church. Despite her legal victory, the abbess found it very dif­ ficult actually to regain the properties; she ultimately took the Nerli back to court, this time prosecuting them appropriately enough under the Or­ dinances of Justice. They finally did relinquish the property and appar­ ently any claim over the church.67 The lineage form was used by medieval Florentines as a means of foster­ ing cooperation among kinsmen. This was particularly important when the lineage possesssed valuable and indivisible ecclesiastical rights; kin­ ship probably facilitated joint action. The rights not only meant status and privilege, but sometimes, as in the cases discussed here, gave lineages control of substantial resources. Internal divisions are apparent within these large families by the time of the Guelf-Ghibelline conflicts of the mid-thirteenth century, yet lineages continued to act together to exercise their rights over the church. Thus the rights came to enforce a degree of solidarity within large and disparate lineages. By the 1270s and 1280s, all three lineages squeezed their rights and exploited church resources, which again entailed cooperation among kinsmen. This enforced solidar­ ity became a burden to some family members. Men like Lapo di Albizzo of the Nerli were torn between traditional loyalty to the lineage and in­ dividual concern over the exploitation of the church. Ultimately, some individuals reacted by breaking away from their kinsmen and even by returning their rights to the church. 66 See Sant'Appollonia, 7 ottobre 1318, 6": one of the articles of the Nerli defense reads "In primis quod Bertus quondam Vantugii de Nerlis predictus in anno domini 1316 de mensis mai et ante et post erat furiosus et mentecaptus tamquam furiosus et mentecaptus se gerebat et ita habebatur et reputabatur a cognoscentis eum." 67 For the records of these cases, see Diplomatico, Sant'Appollonia, 13 febbraio 1315, 26 gennaio 1315, 7 ottobre 1318, 9 luglio 1319. All are quaderni. The property shows up in a fifteenth-century inventory of the convent's lands: Conventi Soppressi, 82, 120.

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I

N THE twelfth and thirteenth centuries, the major motive for the for­ mation and cohesion of patrician lineages was the establishment of a family complex within the city. Urban forts and residences were the crucial element of shared property, the element first established and last divided. Lineage identity was closely bound up with the family palaces and towers. Individuals at times were left fractions of family property so small that they could only have had symbolic value: ownership of a hun­ dredth share of the family's palaces must have meant primarily that one belonged to the family. Lineage property also expressed political and military power. The ideal type was a private stronghold that could be barricaded off in case of at­ tack, a cluster of houses and towers facing a private courtyard and de­ fended by towers. Families used these strongholds both for protection and in their efforts to dominate their neighborhoods. Giovanni Villani's ac­ count of the initial outbreak of Guelf-Ghibelline fighting in 1248 depicts the fighting as moving from tower to tower: "the battles lasted a long time, fighting from stockades, or rather barricades, from one neighbor­ hood to the next, and from the towers one to the next (they had many towers in Florence in those days, with heights of one hundred braccia and up) and with mangonels and other machines they fought day and night."1 Florentine urban topography up to 1250 was shaped by the competition for local control among patrician families, and by their consequent need for private defense.

Military and Residential Towers There were two general types of private towers in Florence, the casatorre, or tower-house, and the purely military type. The actual towers 1 "Awenne che Ie dette battaglie duraro piu tempo, combattendosi a' serragli, ovvero isbarre, da una vicinanza ad altra, e alle torri l'una all'altra (che molte n'avea in Firenza in quegli tempi, e alte da cento braccia in suso) e con manganelle, e altri dificii si combatteano di di e di notte." Villani, Cronica, book 6, chap. 33. A braccia measured 58.36 cm., accord­ ing to Sznura, L'espansione urbana,p. 159. Mangonels are apparently machines for throw­ ing projectiles. Villani's account is of course retrospective, as he was writing more than a century later.

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ranged between these two general forms. The military towers were simply high, narrow shafts of rough stone, broken by a few apertures.2 The blocks of stone, termed pietra forte, were often of graduated size, large at the base of the tower and smaller above; sometimes brick was used. The height of the towers must have presented something of an engineering problem, although the buildings are rarely entirely free-standing. Architectural features are minimal. On the well-preserved tower of the Badia, La Castagna (see Figure 5.1), a centered, arched doorway is sur­ mounted by three arched windows, each again centered and lighting the first three upper stories. As the windows decrease in size, the space be­ tween them is increased; the effect is simple and well-balanced. The stone is quite rough, and perforated at regular intervals by paired scaffolding holes. Level with the first three upper floors are larger holes above pro­ jecting blocks of stone, presumably designed for the attachment of wooden balconies.3 This design was common; the effect is one of great strength and severity. Many of the towers were probably topped by bat­ tlements, which do not survive.4 The interiors of these towers were also simple. The ground floor was generally vaulted, and upper floors probably constructed of wood. Inte­ rior space was limited, owing in part to the thickness of the walls: the interior of the Boscoli tower, attached in 1255 to the new Palazzo del Popolo, is entirely taken up by stairs. Attilio Schiaparelli suggests that most of these towers were ascended by means of trap doors and ladders, thus conserving the interior space for other purposes. Many of the floors were without windows.5 The second general type was the casa-torre, or tower-house. For prac­ tical reasons, these towers were broader and perhaps shorter than the purely military towers. The buildings also tend to have more windows, often pairs of arched windows lighting each story. Some were topped by loggias open to the breezes. The facades range from austere simplicity, resembling la Castagna, to broad, open elegance similar on a smaller scale to the late fourteenth-century Palazzo Davanzati. Presumably, this is the type of building described by thirteenth-century references to a "palatium sive turrim."6 One example is the Ricci-Donati tower on what is now the 2 See A. Schiaparelli, La casa fiorentina e i suoi arredi nei secoli XIV e XV (Florence, 1907), p. 65. 3 For photographs of the well-known towers, see for example the popular study, P. Bargellini and E. Guarnieri, Firenze delle torri (Florence, 1973), p. 38. La Castagna was used for a time to house the city priors. See Dino Compagni, Cronica, book 1, chap. 4. 4 For similar towers, see Bargellini and Guarnieri, pp. 37, 83, 88. 5 Schiaparelli, La casa, pp. 65—66. A cross section of the tower of the Palazzo del Popolo is printed by G. Rohault de Fleury, La Toscane au Moyen-Age (Paris, 1873), plate IV. 6 See for example Bratto, "Liber Extimationum," n. 114.

Figure 5.1. La Castagna. Photo by Ennio Guarnieri.

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via Sant' Elisabetta, which has paired windows on each floor, and side windows. There may originally have been a loggia, and a courtyard at­ tached to the tower still survives.7 The historical antecedents of the towers include public military fortifi­ cations, in particular the four towers built at the corners of a Roman castrum. There may have been towers of this sort incorporated into the first-century walls of Florence. Another set of towers, this time round, defended the Byzantine walls of the city, built in the sixth century. One of these towers survives. Termed the Pagliazza, it was used in the thir­ teenth century as a prison.8 The towers of the nobility also derived from the rocche of the medieval Italian countryside. A few watchtowers survive in the Florentine contado, as for example the absolutely plain, rectangular stub of the twelfth-century tower attached to the castle of the signori di Quarata.9 These watchtowers are almost identical to their urban counterparts. Until the twelfth century, northern European castle keeps were generally round, a shape less vulnerable to assault. The Italians, however, shifted to square and polygonal towers somewhat earlier.10 The casa-torre may also have been influenced by earlier fortified hous­ ing. Architectural historians argue for the development of fortified Ro­ man villas in late antiquity. The best-preserved example is a ruin in south­ ern Etruria, now called the Mura di Santo Stefano.11 Its general form does call to mind the Compiobbesi tower. There also were larger palaces in Florence contemporary with the towers, suggesting that there was not a single line of development from tower to palace. The earliest to survive into recent times was probably the simple rectangular structure thought to have been the palace of the Bostichi.12 The actual towers probably ranged between the military and the resi­ dential types. Many towers were owned by large groups of shareholders and must have been intended primarily for defense, with a ground floor devoted to rented shops. Their design, characterized by extreme height 7 The Ricci-Donati tower is depicted by Bargellini and Guarnieri, p. 42; and in Firenze: Studi e ricerche sul centro antico, ed. P. Roselli (Pisa, 1974), pp. 54—55. On Florentine houses, see Μ. V. D'Addario, "La Casa," Vita privata a Firenze net secoli XIV e XV (Flor­ ence, 1966), pp. 53—73. 8 See Bargellini and Guarnieri, p. 47; Firenze: Studi e ricerche, p. 57. 9 On the rocche of the Florentine contado, see R. Francovitch, I castelli del contado fiorentino nei secoli XII e XIII (Florence, 1973). 10 See Sidney Toy, A History of Fortifications (Melbourne, 1955), p. 74. 11 On the Mura di Santo Stefano, see J. Ward Perkins, "Notes of S. Etruria and the ager Vientianis," Papers of the British School at Rome 23 (1955): 61—66. The development of fortified villas in late antiquity is discussed by Axel Boethius in The Golden House of Nero (New York, 1960). 12 On the Bostichi palace, see Schiaparelli, La casa, pp. 22-23.

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and negligible interior space, is poorly suited to housing. The tower soci­ ety pacts do not mention residential use, and references to the keys to the tower could suggest that no one was permanently on the premises. Still, it is doubtful that the space was left unused, especially in the crowded conditions of the late thirteenth-century city. Dino Compagni mentions that la Castagna, the venerable tower of the Badia, was used to seclude the priors for the entirety of their two-month terms, for their protection. This slender tower, according to Compagni, housed six priors, six ser­ vants, and six guards.13

Military Towers and Tower Society Pacts What were the military uses of these buildings? Some eleventh- and twelfth-century towers, like rural watchtowers, were intended for public defense. Villani mentions towers built by neighborhood associations dur­ ing the civil war of 1177: "And in those times for the same war the asso­ ciations of the quarters built themselves some new towers with the com­ mon funds of the vicinanze, which they called the towers of the companies."14 Again, the vicinanze were neighborhood associations, probably the earliest civic administrative and military units. The city was also divided into four quarters called portae, which were in fact charged with the defense of their respective gates. The portae were ecclesiastical and military units·, in Florence, the consuls of a quarter were also the captains of the militia in time of war. The quarters of a city could be quite autonomous, so that their tower served to defend them from each other as well as from outsiders. There were on occasion battles between quar­ ters, as for example in Lucca in 1118.15 Neighborhood defensive organization and towers must have been crit­ ical for the defense of areas not enclosed by the city walls. It is also quite possible that public and private defense overlapped and that family tow­ ers too were intended to protect the city from external attack. There were many towers clustered in strategic locations, like the foot of the Ponte Vecchio. Further, most of the towers were built during the period when 13 Compagni,

Cronica, book 1, chap. 4. in quegli tempi per la detta guerra assai torri di nuovo vi si muraro per Ie comunitadi delle contrade, de' danari comuni delle vicinanze, che si chiamavano Ie torri delle compagnie." Villani, Cronica, book 5, chap. 9. 15 R. Davidsohn, Storia vol. 1, pp. 484—89. He traces neighborhood responsibility to de­ fend a gate to seventh-century Ravenna. Jacques Heers argues this view in Parties and Po­ litical Life in the Medieval West (Amsterdam and New York, 1977). 14 "E

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the city walls were really inadequate, before the new walls were put up between 1173 and 1175.16 The primary use of the towers, however, was private defense. The ma­ jority were clustered in the oldest parts of the city, inside even the Carolingian walls.17 They became the focal points of civil wars within the city, as Villani suggests. Villani also mentions the actual fighting from the tow­ ers in his retrospective account of the attempted takeover of Florence by the Uberti and their clients in 1177: "there were various bitter wars, in which almost every day, or every other day, citizens fought with each other in many parts of the city, from vicinanza to vicinanza according to where the sides were [based], and they armed the towers, of which they had many in the city, one hundred and one hundred and twenty braccia high ... and the ground was barricaded in many places; this pestilence lasted more than two years."18 References to "arming the towers" can be understood as meaning installing machines of war to hurl things from them. A few contemporary illustrations show men fighting around a tow­ er's base and an archer shooting from the top.19 The critical defensive use of towers, however, was not as forts in times of civil war but as refuges from the vendetta. This is the implication of the rules governing tower use set forth in the pacts of tower societies. These were the towers built not by families or lineages but by groups of unrelated shareholders. The tower society pacts detailed the members' obligations, and were sworn in a church in the presence of witnesses. A few of these pacts survive, in somewhat fragmentary condition, and are a remarkable source for our knowledge not only of the uses of the towers but of patrician culture generally.20 Tower societies were explicitly not kin groups; instead, they were so­ cieties of shareholders. This point needs emphasis because scholars have conflated the two: Jacques Heers, for example, has described tower soci16 On the city walls, see Giovanni Fanelli, Firenze, p. 14. The perimeter was described by Villani but dated a century off, Cronica, book 4, chap. 8; see also on this question Sznura, L'espansione urbana, pp. 43—45. Fanelli prints a map of the approximate locations of the towers, fig. 5. 17 For the Carolingian walls, again see Fanelli, Firenze, fig. 5. 18 "[E] fu si diversa e aspra guerra, che quasi ogni di, ο di due di l'uno, si combatteano i cittadini insieme in piu parti deila citta, da vicinanza a vicinanza com'erano Ie parti, e aveano armate Ie torri, che n'avea nella citta in grande numero, alte cento e centoventi braccia. . . . ed era asseragliata la terra in piu parti; e duro questa pestilenzia piu di due anni." Villani, Cronica, book 5, chap. 9. 19 One such illustration is printed by Daniel Waley, The Italian City-Republics (New York, 1969), p. 179. He describes it as a manuscript of the Genoese Annals (Bibliotheque Nationale, Paris, Ms. Lat. 10136). 20 On Florentine tower societies, see P. Santini, "Societa delle torri in Firenze," Archivio storico italiano 20 (1887): 25—58,178—204.

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eties as clans.21 Several clauses from the pacts make it clear that these societies were not families, artificial or no. Membership depended on pos­ session of a share, not on kinship ties. Members were explicitly not re­ quired to defend an ally against their own families or those of their wives, up to the fourth degree of kinship as defined by canon law. They were also forbidden to pick fights with other members' relatives.22 Although tower societies were not kin groups, they developed parallel to the lineage and served many of the same purposes. In some ways, tower societies were organized in competition with the lineages, both as a means of protection from lineage expansion and as an attempt at neighborhood control. Thus once their differences are established, it is the similarities between tower societies and lineages that are revealing. The surviving pacts reveal three military preoccupations: mutual defense, exclusive membership, and physical expansion. They also reveal a pragmatic con­ cern with rental income and the construction of wooden balconies, which suggests that military concerns were not always paramount. One virtually complete pact, dating from 1180, sets forth the agree­ ment made between at least thirty men who held two towers in the Porta Santa Maria. The pact carefully details both their obligations for mutual defense and the limits of those obligations. As soon as the rectors of the society heard that a member was in danger, they were required to give him the keys to the towers. The members further swore, "If one of the allies is expelled from his house through violence, I will receive him in my house until the end of the conflict, if he wishes."23 The pact specified that in case of conflict a member and his close relations could use the tower until the danger was past. The societies provided their members with allies in case of a fight. The pacts contain no direct statement of an obligation to fight for one another, but that duty is clearly implied in discussions of cases in which members 21 J. Heers, Le clan familial au moyen age (Paris, 1974), pp. 208—12. This view was re­ futed by F. W. Kent, Household and Lineage, pp. 5—10. Scholars have also argued that they were artificial families, like the Genoese albergo. 22 The pacts have been edited: "Atti relativi alle societa delle torri," Documenti, ed. Santini, Appendix n. The text of one such pact reads: "Item nos sotii qui nunc sumus vel in antea erimus inter nos de [personis nostris] alii alios adiuvabimus de nostris discordiis excepto de [proximo parente] qui sit michi coniunctus in quarto gradu secundum computationem canonum ex parte mea vel uxoris mee set de hoc facto ipsarum turrium omnes teneamur ad invicem ad[iuvare]." And later, "Item nullus nostrorum sotiorum litem aliquam faciat studiose suam occasione filie vel generi vel alicuius parentis aliquorum nostrorum sociorum ad hoc ut. . . turres minus habeat usque ad finem litis." Both clauses are from the same pact, Diplomatico, Strozziane-Uggucioni 1180 . . ., in Documenti, ed. Santini, Appen­ dix II, n. Vi., pp. 523-25. 23 "Item siquis sotiorum per violentiam fuerit expulsus de domo sua recipiam eum in domum meam usque ad finem litis si ei placuerit.": Documenti, ed. Santini, Appendix n, n. vi, p. 525.

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were excused from fighting on behalf of their fellows. These exceptions were cases of divided loyalties, like a dispute between an ally and one's own family, or a dispute among members of the society. These provisions for mutual defense seem entirely directed toward private feuds or vendet­ tas. Again, the most common defensive use of the towers must have been as a means of protecting and concealing a family in case of the vendetta. Control of the membership was carefully maintained. Members were not allowed to alienate their portions without the consent of the entire group. A man's share of the towers was passed to his sons, or to nepotes in the absence of sons. At age fifteen, these young men were asked to post an unspecified security within thirty days. If they failed to act at all, they forfeited their share; if they could not afford the security, they lost their portions of the towers but were paid a fixed sum per braccia, the contem­ porary unit of linear measurement. Above all, no portion of a tower could ever be owned by a woman. This is spelled out in almost every document concerned with the towers, from simple sales agreements to the four­ teenth-century communal statutes. On the face of it, the prohibition was designed to prevent shares of the towers from passing by marriage into the hands of enemies.24 These rules suggest the symbolic identity of a brotherhood of warriors: vehement exclusion of women, the ritual attached to the admission of young men as a rite of passage into adulthood, the assembly of members in a church to swear an oath of mutual defense. Other aspects of the rules call to mind a guild or confraternity: periodic selection of officers, annual dues, exclusivity. The third preoccupation expressed in the pacts is with physical expan­ sion. Members paid an annual sum toward tower building, probably cov­ ering both repairs and additions. The height of a tower was critical: if your tower was higher than that of your neighbor, you could rain things down on his head. The societies also were interested in controlling the area immediately surrounding the tower, and several of the surviving texts have to do with the sale of contiguous property. There was strategic advantage in holding several distinct foutes of access to the tower. In one early document, the sons of the priest Guidolino gave part of their house to the society of the tower at the foot of the bridge, in exchange for a "countergift" of a cloak worth fifty libre. Perhaps the property was trans­ ferred by gift and countergift, rather than by simple purchase, because Guidolino's sons were acting under compulsion: their house, after all, must have been dominated by the tower.25 In another, later agreement, 24 The 25 R.

II,

n. I,

statutes are described by Santini, "Societa delle torri," pp. 37—46. Acquisto Baldovinetti, gennaio 1165, printed in Documenti, ed. Santini, Appendix pp. 517-18.

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two men owning a house adjoining la Bigazza traded one piece of their house for another piece of the same house, which had been owned by the tower society.26 There is some direct evidence of tower societies seeking to control their immediate neighborhoods by establishing a defensive enclave. A fragmen­ tary pact of 1178/79 includes two provisions of this sort. No member could sell or give away his house to provide a site for a tower unless the other members were given a chance to obtain shares: "Item from the Marabottini tower to . . . the Galligai, to the Abati tower, to the house of Folcardini Picconis, to the tower de Bonzole, to the church of Santa Maria in Campidoglio, back to the tower of the sons of Marabottini: if any of the members enter into any society within these confines, he must act in good faith so that all his fellow members or any who so choose shall have a share.. . ."27 The area described is a block of property on the northwest corner of the old forum; the church of Santa Maria in Campidoglio was across the street. This effort at neighborhood predominance was not very successful, though several owners of important properties listed as con­ fines signed the pact as witnesses, suggesting an alliance. A man also might build up a personal network of alliances by member­ ship in more than one society. One of the pacts brings up this point as a potential source of divided loyalties in case of a conflict between members of the two groups.28 This raises the possibility of appallingly complex alliances, in which individuals belonged to whole networks of tower so­ cieties. Pietro Santini felt that this was the case but had little evidence to demonstrate it. The idea is intriguing because it points to the political aspects of these organizations. Whether or not individuals typically be­ longed to more than one society, interlocking alliances between these groups must have been one basis for the Guelf and Ghibelline factions. Another preoccupation of these societies was rental income. Several pacts discuss the construction or administration of shops or market stalls at the base of the tower. In one text, the rent is divided up among the membership, apparently according to the size of their shares.29 Several texts reveal societies building shops on the ground floors of their towers. 26 R. Acquisto Nidiaci, 1 novembre 1201; Documenti, ed. Santini, Appendix n, n. x, pp. 529-30. 27 "Item a turre Marabottini usque. . . . Galligai et usque ad turrem Abatis, usque ad domum Folcardini Picconis et usque ad turrem de Bonzole et usque ad ecclesiam sancte Marie in Capitolio et usque ad ipsam turrem fil. Marabottini: infra hos fines si quis sociorum intraverit in societate alicfuius debeat procurare (?)] et studere bona fide et operari quod socii omnes vel ille cui placuerit recipere habeat ibi partem et, si potuerit facere dare, habeant terminum recipiendi infra dies xxx proximos post inquisitionem." Strozziane-Uggucioni, 19 gennaio 1179; Documenti, ed. Santini, Appendix π, n. in, p. 519. 28 Documenti, ed. Santini, Appendix n, η. vi, pp. 524—25. 29 Documenti, ed. Santini, Appendix n, n. hi, p. 519.

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Tower shareholders also constructed wooden balconies. In one pact, the shareholders agreed to share the expense of a wooden balcony above the door, and provided that any member who wished to build a balcony on his own portion of the tower could do so.30 The tower may have held one community balcony and as many as three private ones, on three dif­ ferent sides. This accords well with contemporary pictures of the city, which show houses and towers bristling with balconies and projections.31 These balconies would soften and enliven the severity of a tower's ap­ pearance; they also provided a cool breeze and good view. It is hard to believe that they did not seriously compromise the building's military uses, among other things by making it more vulnerable to fire.32 This was a constant threat: Simone della Tosa, apparently fascinated with fires, in his Annali repeatedly mentions houses and palaces burned and lives lost. Arson was also a common weapon in the vendetta.33 Tower societies competed with lineages in the use of joint property to build up neighborhood military control. Over time, despite their draw­ backs, lineages seem to have been more successful, as the tower societies fade from the documents after the early Dugento. Kinship ties produced more durable alliances than did simple co-ownership. The tower society described earlier which sought in 1180 to build up control of the north­ west corner of the old forum was in competition with at least three pow­ erful lineages: the Strinati, the Tornaquinci, and the della Tosa branch of the Visdomini. The tower society vanished, but all three lineages persisted in the area into the fifteenth century. Figure 5.2 shows the north side of the old forum, including the remains of the della Tosa towers and palaces as they appeared at the end of the nineteenth century. As we have seen, Neri Strinati, tracing his ancestry in the Cronichetta, wove into the narrative which ancestors had acquired which pieces of property in the area. His earliest ancestor, Ciabero, began with a house; a son, Manso, added three shops bordering on the della Tosa. The family tower, called la Ciaberonta, was built by Manso's great-grandson Ciaberonto. Ciaberonto's nephew made a fortunate marriage, acquiring as his wife's dowry further properties in the area, bordering on a tower that by Documenti, ed. Santini, Appendix ιι, η. XI, pp. 530-35. See for example the earliest extant view of the city, at the feet of the Madonna of Mercy, in a work in the Bigallo, which is reproduced by Fanelli, Firenze, fig. 20, p. 55. 32 The city burned a number of times during this period, including fires resulting from civil wars in 1177 (Davidsohn, Storia vol. 1, p. 825) and 1304. See Fanelli, Firenze, p. 39. 33 Simone della Tosa, Annali, for example mentions a fire in a Caponsacchi house in 1232 that killed twenty-two men, women, and children; a major fire Oltrarno in 1234; and a fire in the Pegolotti houses and tower in 1290 that killed seven people and almost wiped out the lineage. Dino Compagni also repeatedly mentions arson, including an episode in which the popolo burned a Tornaquinci palace in retribution for an attack on a popolano. See Cronica book 3, chap. 3. 30

31

Figure 5.2. The North Side of the Mercato Vecehio Before Its Demolition. Sketch by A. Puccioni, reprinted from Guido Carocci, Studi storici sul centra di Firenze (Florence, 1889).

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Neri's time was owned by the Tornaquinci. These properties were remade into a palace. Further shops were purchased, which adjoined the original family houses. In 1256 the lineage placed all these properties in common, holding them in fractional shares.34 The della Tosa were the other major property owners in the area. The 1269 Liber Extimationum describes their loss of substantial chunks of property in three parishes just to the north of the market. Della Tosa losses included two houses and a tower and shop actually bordering on the market, and another two contiguous palaces, in Santa Maria in Campidoglio; two palaces and a tower, adjoining the property on the market but in San Leone; and two towers together with four houses, some ad­ joining, in San Salvatore.35 The arrangement of the properties is uncer­ tain. This block was still dominated by the della Tosa in 1427, according to Carocci's reconstruction of the center of Florence from the catasto. Figure 5.3 is a sketch based on that reconstruction. At that time, della Tosa prop­ erty centered on a small family courtyard. Whether this was true in the thirteenth century is unclear.36 Most of the property in 1269 was not owned by the entire lineage. A palace, house, and tower are described as "comune Filiorum Tose"; the rest was held by smaller, overlapping groups within the lineage. Interestingly, messer Fastello della Tosa is listed in the Liber Extimationum as one of more than a dozen men owning the "tower of the cap­ tains," next to the city walls at the San Lorenzo gate.37 One might have thought that a tower society was simply a poor man's lineage—or, rather, a new man's lineage—and that a person who belonged to a powerful and active lineage would have little use for a tower society as well. Instead, Fastello, who owned considerable property on his own, seems to have found a share of this tower useful as well. Tower societies and lineages were not mutually exclusive. Again, this supports the notion that tower society membership could develop into a network of alliances, in Fastello's case Guelf. The most spectacular case of a lineage's accumulation of clusters of property for military reasons is that of the Uberti. By the late twelfth cen­ tury, the Uberti had placed themselves in a strong position through their ownership of a number of forts in the area that became the sesto of San Pier Scheraggio. The central properties were in the area now filled by the Piazza Signoria and the Palazzo Vecchio; they included a small courtyard 34

Cronichetta, pp. 98—113. Bratto, "Liber Extimationum," 422-25,429-32. 36 G. Carocci, Il centro di Firenze (Florence, 1900); the map is printed by Fanelli, Firenze, fig. 40, p. 88. 37 Bratto, Liber Extimationum, 419; for his other holdings, 424, 463, 488. 35

storici sul centra di

(Florence, 1889).

Figure 5.3. Family Enclaves: Carocci's Reconstruction of Central Florence in 1427. Sketch based on Guide Carocci, Studi

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called the platea Ubertorum and a tower near San Romolo. Uberti also had property associated with the Guardingus, a Lombard fort built on the site of the Roman theater. And they occupied a portion of another major Roman ruin, the perilasium, or ancient amphitheater. These may have been forts tucked inside standing ruins, like the Colosseum and a number of other buildings in medieval Rome.38 Schiatta degli Uberti in the last decade of the twelfth century owned at least part of the strongest bastion in the medieval city, the castello di Altafronte, on the Arno at the modern Piazza dei Giudici. Whether the rest of the family property was held by the lineage in fractions or owned by smaller groups of family members is unclear. Regardless, the Uberti's strong military position within the city enabled them to attempt a take­ over in the 1170s and in part explains their leadership of the Ghibelline party in the thirteenth century. Why were these forts crucial to the patricians of the twelfth and early thirteenth century? The answer lies in the weakness of communal insti­ tutions. The city government could not guarantee order; this is the clear implication of the very large number of towers designed as refuges from private violence. At the same time, the weakness of government and of corporate structures meant that real power was built on private military capabilities. The importance of the towers as a means of physical intimi­ dation should not be underestimated. When popular associations formed, they were clearly designed to counterbalance patrician military power, to provide men who lived in the shadow of these forts with some alternative source of protection.39 Thus these fortifications served to protect patri­ cian families and to threaten their neighbors. They were also important power bases. The Uberti lineage and their allies, from their network of forts, in the late twelfth century very nearly succeeded in taking over Flor­ ence. The symbolic value of the towers should also not be underestimated: in 1200 the hundred and fifty towers in the city must have loomed over their neighborhoods, a forceful expression of family identity and power. The surviving texts give the towers a peculiar importance, almost person­ alities. Many of them had popular names, Boccadiforno, La Fortecatena, Boccadiferro, La Baciagatta: Furnace mouth, the Strong chain, Ironmouth, the Cat's kiss. The towers were both a source of strength and an effective display of power. 38 The Uberti property is described by Davidsohn, Storia vol. 1, p. 827. See Richard Krautheimer, Rome: Profile of a City, 312-1308 (Princeton, N.J., 1980), esp. pp. 319-20 on the military uses of the Colosseum. 39 On the provisions of the Primo Popolo and the creation of citizen militias, see chap. 10.

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Family Residences Urban compounds could be forts of strategic importance and a major source of family identity; they were also residences. There is only meager evidence for the internal makeup of the compounds, either for their exact layout or for the crucial question of how space was allocated. The size and structure of a casa-torre suggest that it housed a small group, perhaps a joint fraternal household or a three-generation family. Richard Gold­ thwaite in studies of the social implications of Renaissance palaces has argued for a shift from medieval domestic architecture designed to ac­ commodate the extended family to Renaissance palaces glorifying the nu­ clear family. In making this contrast, Goldthwaite apparently had in mind not tower houses but buildings he considers typical medieval hous­ ing: large nondescript apartment houses, with arcades of shops below and several stories irregularly carved into apartments above. In many ways, they closely resembled late classical insulae. The suggestion is that patrician family compounds, while protected by towers, would generally be made up of such nondescript structures.40 Does the medieval evidence bear out this view? Some of the earliest references appear in the Vita of a Florentine saint, Umiliana dei Cerchi, a text written shortly after her death in 1246. After Umiliana was widowed, she lived enclosed in a cell in a Cerchi family tower, cared for by a servant. At one point, the hagiographer writes, when factional fighting had broken out in the city and machines were hurtling stones against the towers, the devil used this distracting chaos to tempt Umiliana to look out the window and see that the whole city was going to burn, and her tower with it.41 This text suggests a tower crowded with kinsmen. One of her sistersin-law lived in a room directly beneath Umiliana, and thus was able to testify to the odor of sanctity coming from the Beata's cell. And presum­ ably it was because they lived on the premises that her brothers were able to disturb Umiliana's ecstasies and even annoy her on her deathbed. There was also a family disagreement over her use of the tower. Her fa­ ther, angered because of her refusal to remarry, threatened to wall up the door. Further, he tried to move her to the new family palace near Sant' Ambrogio so that his consobrinus—probably his brother's son—and the 40 R. A. Goldthwaite, "The Florentine Palace as Domestic Architecture," American His­ torical Review 77 (October 1972): 977—1012; R. A. Goldthwaite, The Building of Renais­ sance Florence, introduction. 41 Vito of Cortona, "Vita de B. Aemiliana seu Humiliana," Acta Sanctorum, vol. Tl (19 May), ed. G. Henschenio and D. Papebrochio (Paris and Rome, 1866); see cols. 390 D, 394 D, 398 D.

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man's wife could move in. Umiliana refused. By implication, the tower was joint lineage property.42 Further, the Cerchi thought it appropriate to use the tower as residences for a mix of kin; there apparently was no sense that it should be restricted to a joint fraternal household, composed of Umiliana and her siblings. There is another clear mention of the allocation of jointly held residen­ tial property in a rental contract, describing entrances to Mannelli lineage property. The property was explicitly owned jointly and the rent divided up. It is described as a stall or rather bank of the Mannelli, located in Florence on the Ponte Vecchio next to the Mannelli houses, between the entrance through which messer Lapo di messer Coppo enters these houses and the entrance through which the family of the late Jacopo di Boninsegna of the Mannelli enters these houses.43 Their relationship is un­ known but probably went back at least three generations.44 In effect, the houses were jointly held by fairly distant kin, and broken up into separate apartments; presumably different entrances imply separate residences. Another passing reference indicates a residence used by a widow within a family property. In a Pazzi will of 1285, a son reiterated his father's bequest to his mother of the lifetime use of a "scallam et habiturum in domibus ipsius testatoris," a staircase and small residence in the houses of the testator. Again, the staircase would almost certainly be external, implying a separate entrance that contributed to the widow's privacy.45 Neri Strinati discussed the allocation of residences within property jointly held by a group of kinsmen. He shared property with the other members of his branch of the Strinati, a group made up of the descen­ dants of Neri's grandfather Strinato. This branch included three groups of brothers, the sons of Belfradello, Marabottino, and Neri's father Alfieri. They apparently acted on the principle that each should have a room and each fraterna a kitchen. Neri describes how a kitchen was con­ structed for Marabottino, with a staircase facing onto the Mercato Vecchio to provide access. They paid for the project with common funds.46 Marabottino also had a room to live in, which was in a different, though probably adjoining, building. Other construction projects were under­ taken by groups of brothers at their own expense. The sons of Marabot42 Ibid.,

col. 394 F. sive bancham de Mannellis positam Florentie super ponte veteri justa do­ mos de Mannellis inter hostium per quod dictus dominus Lapus intrat domos predictas et hostium per quod intrat familia olim Jacobi Boninsegne de Mannellis domos predictas . . ASF Notarile C 102, 160' (12 luglio 1295). 44 Lapo may have been the son of messer Coppo del'Abate dei Mannelli, who served as a cavalry officer at Montaperti; see Raveggi, Ghibellini, Guelfi e popolo grasso, p. 6n. 45 Diplomatico, Strozziane-Uggucioni, 11 agosto 1285. 46 "[PJercio fu fatta a Marabottino la detta cucina de'danari comuni, perche ciascuno avea sua camera, a sua cucina di comune." "Cronichetta," p. 125. 43 "[TJabulam

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tino, for example, improved one of the properties when they married. Neri Strinati also bricked in a staircase and constructed something termed a palco to use as his kitchen when he was married, at his own expense.47 These bits of evidence, then, suggest joint properties that might be shared by distant kin but that were chopped up into discrete residences. It would be fascinating to know how much common life took place within these mixed properties: for example, which spaces and other re­ sources beyond common courtyards were used by all the inhabitants of a building? What kinds of pecking orders existed within the extended fam­ ily? There are also a few texts indicating the layouts of family compounds, including those of major palaces. These sources suggest that men built palaces as residences for themselves and their immediate descendants, as they did in the Renaissance. The best-documented properties are those of the Cerchi, who engaged in a major building campaign in the second half of the thirteenth century. Two surveys undertaken by the commune de­ scribe a number of Cerchi properties in detail. One was intended for a new street between Orsanmichele and the Bargello, the other for a new piazza adjoining Santa Maria Novella.48 Further, Brenda Preyer has re­ cently uncovered documentation for two palaces—which still stand— built by messer Gherardino dei Cerchi before his death in 1290 or 1291. They were clearly intended to house Gherardino, together with his many sons and their families; Preyer considers that the second palace was in­ tended as "expansion space," as the household grew. When the properties were divided in 1309, the sons of Gherardino simply split them up. Two sons received one palace; the other went to the third son and to the heirs of the fourth. Evidently, these were joint fraternal households.49 Another thirteenth-century family compound can be reconstructed in detail. This was a complex of houses and palaces on all four sides of a private family courtyard, belonging to members of the Tornaquinci lin­ eage. The property was in a block next to San Michele Bertelde. The block still largely belonged to the lineage in the fifteenth century. The layout of this compound is described in two thirteenth-century property divisions. The first text is dated August 1286 and divides two palaces, one of them incomplete, between the descendants of the late 47 "Poi awenne, quando tolsi la Diana, si fece una pezzo di palco di sopra per mia cucina; ed ammattonai, e messi parecchi trave nuove, e murai la scala dov' e mo, e traffila dov'era prima, e tutto quello palco feci di tutti mia danari." "Cronichetta," p. 126. 48 Both surveys are printed by Pampaloni in Firenze at tempi di Dante·, the street plans, Badia di Firenze, 7 and 24 gennaio 1298, Pampaloni, doc. 66, p. 116; the piazza, Santa Maria Novella, 2 febbraio 1288, Pampaloni, doc. 44, p. 72. 49 B. Preyer, "Two Cerchi Palaces in Florence," Renaissance Studies in Honor of Craig Hugh Smyth, vol. 2, pp. 613—30.

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Gherardo and those of the late Jacopo. Interestingly, the decision was actually made by an officer of the commune by casting lots.50 The curia was explicitly kept for the "comunem usem omnium predictorum consortum"; no one was allowed to encumber it or build over it without the consent of the larger part of the family. It was possible to construct bal­ conies, provided that they did not block the light of the shops on the ground floor of the palaces. The second division is dated 1297. In this case, two arbiters were cho­ sen, both Tornaquinci, to settle a disagreement between Ghino Marabottini and his five nephews, the sons of his late brother Bernardo Marabottini. Two of these young men were minors and therefore were represented by their brothers. This may have been the breakup of a joint fraternal household, after the death of one of the brothers. The arbiters settled their differences by dividing property "until now common between them," sep­ arating out Ghino's share. He received a house bordering on the "court­ yard common to the sons of Tornaquinci." A number of other properties that were not part of this complex were also common to Ghino and his nephews, including the base of a tower shared by a group of Torna­ quinci.51 The Tornaquinci lineage, then, actually owned a block of houses and palaces surrounding a private courtyard.52 It is significant that in 1297 the only properties held by large numbers of family members were those having general uses—that is, the courtyard and tower base. The complex included shops, which were rented out; some of the other houses may have been rented as well. Ghino's dispute with his nephews may have been motivated by a need for a separate residence for his family. In the division, he was given the house on the family curia, and the right to its rent; the nephews received the rest of the joint property, including some rural land, and Ghino was required to pay them twenty-five libre to even things out. However, 50 The text is Diplomatico Adespoti-coperti di libri, 16 agosto 1286; because the parch­ ment was used as a book cover, the top half is missing. For a Genoese example of a division made by casting lots, see R. Lopez, "Studi sull'economia genovese nel Medio Evo," Docu­ ment! e studi per la storia del commercio e del diritto commerciale italiano 8 (1936): 219— 23. For a detailed reconstruction of the Tornaquinci, see Patricia Simons, "Portraiture and Patronage in Quattrocento Florence with Special Reference to the Tornaquinci and their Chapel in S. Maria Novella," Ph.D. diss., University of Melbourne, 1985, chap. 3.1 would like to thank Professor Simons for making a copy available to me. 51 Diplomatico, Archivio generale (appendice) 1297 Ind. x. 52 For another well-documented lineage complex, see the evidence for the Mozzi proper­ ties, including a joint purchase and then division, Diplomatico Archivo generale, appendice, 5 giugno 1271, 4', and the sale of the Mozzi properties to the commune, Riformagioni, appendice, 6 novembre 1309.1 would like to thank Professor B. Preyer for bringing this text to my attention.

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Ghino and his family were to "stay and reside" for a year in one of the houses given to the nephews, without paying them rent. The nephews would receive some rent from the part of the house not inhabited by Ghino and his family. The circumstances are not entirely clear; Ghino was probably given the house on the family curia as a residence but— perhaps because it had already been rented to someone else—still needed a home for a year. These divisions indirectly suggest small, separate household residences. Ghino and his family may have been breaking away from joint residence with his nephews, or may have had separate housing within their jointly held property. But from the date of the division, he certainly lived in a household composed of a nuclear family, and inhabited only a portion of a house. In effect, families within a compound like that of the Tornaquinci must have lived in close contact, but kept separate residences. Di­ visions of joint property became common in the last decades of the cen­ tury. Some lineages demonstrably still held joint property in 1300: again, the Mannelli property on the Ponte Vecchio was still owned in fractions in 1295. However, the tendency was to follow a pattern like that of the Tornaquinci, and divide. In sum, even when residential property was held jointly, it was allo­ cated as separate household units. When joint property was broken up, family compounds were still retained. They simply were no longer owned in fractions, although properties like a central courtyard that were used by the entire group might be kept in common.53 These common proper­ ties could become sources of contention: there were a number of legal disputes between kinsmen over encroachments on common property. The striking fact, however, is the persistence of family compounds after their breakup into separately owned pieces. The number still in the hands of lineage descendants in 1427 is remarkable. Clearly, a family's identity and power were still bound up in their towers and houses, their physical place in the city. The Tedaldi as late as 1500 nostalgically kept in their house a "grossissima" stone from a family tower that had been torn down centuries before.54 The change that lay behind the division of jointly held family com­ pounds was the gradual loss of their military functions. This took place in part through the destruction of the military towers in civil wars, and in part through restrictions imposed by the communal government. Initially, many of the towers were demolished by rival factions. When a victorious party drove its enemies from the city, instead of merely taking over the 53 See the discussion of a family loggia by F. W. Kent, "The Rucellai Family and Its Log­ gia," journal of the Warburgand Courtauld Institutes 35 (1972): 397—401. 54 See F. W. Kent, "Quattrocento Florentine Taste in Palaces: Two Notes," Australian Journal of Art 6 (1987): 17-24. On the Tedaldi he cites Carte Strozziane ser. 2, 135, insert 2, fol. 10'.

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loser's property, they destroyed it: knocking down a lineage's houses and towers somehow was an important element in removing them from the city. Razing the property of an entire political faction was a major undertak­ ing, expensive and dangerous. In an overcrowded city, highly vulnerable to fire, demolition must have been carried out systematically over a long period of time. Neri Strinati complained bitterly of the destruction of the family tower: "Our tower was destroyed in 1268 . . . and we had to have it dismantled at our expense, because they wanted to bring it down in the Mercato Vecchio right over our houses, and the demolition cost 140 libre."55 In some areas, it probably involved the construction of scaffold­ ing: the rubble from the demolition filled the ditch outside the city walls. The scope of this effort is shown by the Liber Extimationum, which val­ ues the property destroyed by the Ghibellines in the city alone at over 74,000 libre. A substantial palace and tower might be valued at 1,500.56 Apparently, an exiled family's symbolic presence through its houses and towers was important enough to warrant an extraordinary effort of dem­ olition. After 1302, this effort was dropped and the commune destroyed only forts and military buildings. Other properties belonging to exiles were left standing, with their revenues used to help support the city's cav­ alry. Sometimes the facades were scratched as a token destruction.57 When the Guelf chronicler Giovanni Villani recounted the 1248 disas­ ter, the major Ghibelline crime seems to have been this destruction of the Guelf towers. This is his description of the fall of the great Guelf tower Guardamorto: When they came to destroy the towers of the Guelfs, among the others one very grand and beautiful one was in the piazza of San Giovanni at the en­ trance of the street of the Adimari, and was called the tower of Guardamorto, because in old times all the good people who died were buried at San Gio­ vanni; the Ghibellines cut back the base of the tower, and propped it so that when the supports were fired, it would fall upon the church of San Giovanni. But it pleased God that through a miracle of the blessed Giovanni, when the tower, which was one hundred and twenty braccia high, began to fall, out of reverence it visibly avoided the holy church and turned and fell straight on the piazza, so that all the Florentines marvelled and the people were joyful.58 55 "Fue disfatta la Torre nostra nel 1268 . . . e convennelaci disfare di sopra a nostre spese, perche la voleano fare eadere in Mercato Veeehio sopra Ie case nostre, e costo di disfacitura libbre 140." "Cronichetta," pp. 112—13. 56 These figures are given by Olaf Bratto, "Liber Extimationum," Introduction, pp. 16— 17. The Orciolini tower and palace were valued at 1,500 libre, "Liber Extimationum," 33. 57 See U. Dorini, Il diritto penale e la delinquenza in Firenze nel sec 10 XIV (Lucca, 1916), p. 165. 58 [QJuando vennero a disfare Ie torri de' guelfi, intra l'altre una molto grande e bella, ch'era in sulla piazza di San Giovanni all'entrare del corso degli Adimari, e chiamavasi la

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The miracle underscored the symbolic character of the towers. Guardamorto actually became animate, able to turn itself to protect the baptistry of Saint John. A large proportion of the towers were destroyed by rival factions. At the same time, the communal government began to take steps to curtail private military power. The first measures taken were by the Primo Popolo, the popular regime that came to power in 1250. It is telling that the first meeting of the popular leaders was moved twice to avoid being intim­ idated by patrician forts. They met originally in San Firenze, but, appar­ ently nervous over the Uberti forts, they moved first to Santa Croce, then outside the walls, and then to fortified houses in Borgo San Lorenzo. The Primo Popolo took a number of measures in an attempt to maintain in­ ternal peace, the most important of which was the formation of popular neighborhood military companies. It also enacted a statute that drasti­ cally cut back the height of the towers, restricting them to 29 meters.59 With the Peace of Cardinal Latino and then the formation of the Priorate, steps were again taken to restrict private military power, including the early statutes against the magnates. The new government was firmly based on guild corporatism and better able to guarantee order, making private systems of defense less necessary. It may also be that the period saw a gradual shift in family political strategies, in which lineages came to rely less on physical, military coercion and more on indirect pressures and clientage. The military uses of towers and houses were not immedi­ ately dropped, but rather faded. Dino Compagni's account of the fighting between the Blacks and the Whites reveals houses and towers as still cen­ tral to the street fighting at the end of the century. His account also sug­ gests the crucial vulnerability of these structures to fire; attacking an op­ ponent often meant putting the torch to his property, and in the course of the struggles between Blacks and Whites much of the city burned.60 Dino Compagni describes the factions, then, fighting in the old manner. Toward the end of the struggle, Corso Donati and his allies barricaded themselves in at the piazza of San Pier Maggiore, site of a Donati tower. The term used by Compagni is literally "s'asseraglio." Their attackers torre del guardamorto, perroche anticamente tutta la buona gente che moria si sopelliva a san Giovanni, i ghibellini faccendo tagliare dal pie la detta torre, si la feciono puntellare per modo, che quando si mettesse il fuoco a' puntelli, cadesse in sulla chiesa di san Giovanni: e cosl fu fatto. Ma come piacque a Dio, per reverenza e miracolo del beato Giovanni, la torre ch'era alta centoventi braccia, parve manifestamente, quando venne a cadere, ch'ella schifasse la santa chiesa, e rivolsesi, e cadde per Io dritto della piazza, onde tutti i Fiorentini si maravigliaro, e il popolo ne fu molto allegro." Villani, Cronica, book 6, chap. 33. It is interesting that Guardamorto was attached to a della Tosa palace. 59 On the provisions of the Primo Popolo, see Davidsohn, Storia vol. 2, pp. 509—17. 60 Dino Compagni, Cronica, book 3, chap. 8, describes the destruction caused by the fires.

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used arrows, stones, and fire; ultimately the barricades broke and the Donati allies fled. The father of Gherardo Bordoni, Compagni tells us, then took refuge in a Tornaquinci house "which was old." In other words, unlike newer houses, it was fortified.61 This was the last major incident in which the towers played an impor­ tant military role. As the reference to the Tornaquinci property suggests, the new style of patrician architecture was shifting away from the mili­ tary. This point is awkward to demonstrate. A number of large and su­ perb palaces are traditionally dated to the last decades of the thirteenth century, including the Mozzi, Frescobaldi, and Spini palaces and the Peruzzi compound. However, with the exception of the Cerchi palaces stud­ ied by Preyer, none of the surviving facades and structures are securely dated.62 Since their original construction, many have been extensively re­ designed, or, like the Palazzo Mozzi, romantically reconstructed.63 Nev­ ertheless, the direction of patrician architecture is clear. These buildings are larger than their predecessors: their open facades give an impression of military strength but in fact would be difficult to defend. Patrician building was moving toward the style of the late fourteenth-century Davanzati palace—open elegance with little military influence.64 It is telling that the Cerchi in 1298 apparently encouraged the construc­ tion of a new street, connecting Orsanmichele and the Bargello. The street was to pass by three Cerchi palaces together with their loggia and piazza, giving the Cerchi buildings, as Brenda Preyer points out, impressive front­ age on a major new thoroughfare. Probably it also made the properties more difficult to defend. The Cerchi thus sought to reinforce their place in the city by monumental and highly visible stone palaces; they appar­ ently had little interest in the old strategy of an enclosed family enclave. Rather than palaces turned inwards, clustered around a family piazza, the Cerchi sought palaces facing outwards, onto a major public street.65 61 Dino

Compagni, Crottica, book 3, chap. 20. Saalman has argued that many palaces thought to be thirteenth or fourteenth century in fact should be dated later: see H. Saalman, "The Palazzo Comunale in Montepulciano: An Unknown Work by Michelozzo," Zeitschrift fiir Kunstgescbichte 28 (1965): 9. 63 L. Ginori, I Palazzi di Firenze nella storia e nell'arte (Florence, 1972), includes photo­ graphs of these palaces. On the Spini, see vol. 1, pp. 127—32; the Peruzzi, vol. 2, pp. 605— 7; the Mozzi, 2, pp. 683—88; the Frescobaldi, 2, pp. 757-62. See also Fanelli, Firenze, p. 37. 64 On fifteenth-century palaces, see F. W. Kent, "Palaces, Politics and Society in FifteenthCentury Florence," I Tatti Studies 2 (1987): 41—70. 65 Paula Spilner argues in her dissertation, " 'Ut Civitas Amplietur,' " that the Priorate began to change the enclosed, inward-looking character of the medieval town, opening up spaces and establishing arteries for the movement of traffic. For the argument that in the late thirteenth century the commune of Bologna imposed a new public order on urban space, see Jacques Heers, Espaces publics, espaces prives dans la ville: Le "Liber Terminorum" de Bologne (1294) (Paris, 1984). 62 Howard

PART TWO THE EXCLUSION OF WOMEN

DISAFFECTION FROM THE LINEAGE: UMILIANA DEI CERCHI AND THE CATHARS

I

N THE twelfth and thirteenth centuries, Florentine patricians reacted to urban society with a shift in their patterns of family structure. The result was a new patrilineal emphasis in inheritance, in which undi­ vided fractions of some types of property were shared among brothers and over time among more distant kinsmen. The extended family was redefined as a patrilineal descent group, a group united by descent from a common ancestor. This patrilineal emphasis fostered cooperation among kinsmen and facilitated the sharing of valuable and strategic re­ sources. The pattern in fact probably originated among kinsmen who shared an indivisible resource, rights over the church. It was extended to urban properties, family forts and residences, and to other less tangible resources as well. These resources enabled groups of kinsmen to establish themselves in a position of power in the commune. This pattern of family structure was based on the exclusion of women, and cannot be understood without an examination of its implications for women. The patrilineage reshaped the extended family by excluding fe­ male ancestry. A woman's children did not belong to her father's lineage. In practice, a patrilineal emphasis also meant the restriction of a woman's claims on either her father's or her husband's estates, and often her exclu­ sion from inheritance. In effect, the price of the new family solidarity was paid by wives and daughters. The patrilineal exclusion of women was an innovation.1 In the ninth and tenth centuries in northern Italy, a woman had a stronger claim to her husband's estate. A wife was legally entitled to a morning gift, paid by her husband in exchange for her virginity. Further, under Lombard law, a wife was entitled to a quarta of her husband's property; under Salic law she could claim a tercia. It was only from the eleventh century, with the growing importance of lineage ties, that the morning gift declined to 1

A version of this chapter was presented before the Sewanee Mediaeval Colloquium, The University of the South, March 1986, where I profited from the comments of Daniel Lesnick of the University of Alabama. A number of other friends have offered help and suggestions, including Marvin Becker, Diane Hughes, Michael Martin, and Thomas Tentler at the Uni­ versity of Michigan, James Farr, David Linge, and Bruce Wheeler at the University of Ten­ nessee, and Katherine Gill of Princeton University. Again, my errors are of course my own.

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a right of usufructus alone, and the dowry grew in importance. Instead of a quarta or a tercia, a woman received a small counter-dowry from her husband, termed the donatio propter nuptias. In Florence it was limited by statute to a fraction of the dowry, up to a maximum of 50 libre.2 In legal terms, this change did not cut women off from further inheri­ tance. The dowry was not an inheritance in Roman law. In practice, how­ ever, fathers often chose to include in their wills an exclusio propter dotem clause, which did cut off a daughter from inheritance because of her receipt of a dowry. There were exceptions, daughters who received both dowry and inheritance, but they were uncommon. When men wrote their wills, they generally preferred more distant kinsmen to their daughters. This patrilineal emphasis was supported by communal law. The law did not restrict Florentines in their choice of heirs, but did address intes­ tate succession, and effectively excluded the female line. If a man died intestate, his daughter could not inherit if any relation in the male line was available: the law thus favored the claims of a man's uncle, nephew, or brother over those of his daughter. The motive was explicitly the ex­ clusion of the female line. The laws also prohibited intestate succession by a uterine brother, again a form of inheritance through the female line. Daughters were permitted to inherit from intestate mothers, though only in the absence of sons.3 In effect, the adoption of the lineage meant that patrician women were excluded from inheriting from their fathers and from any permanent rights to their husband's estates. Manlio Bellomo has argued that the mo­ tives for this change were political and social. For twelfth-century patri­ cian families, the patrimony was the basis of social rank and political power. For Bellomo, the family in this century was primarily "a political and military organism."4 He sees the exclusion of women as a deliberate program, giving husbands and fathers exclusive control and thus enabling them to consolidate and stabilize the family patrimony over the course of generations. Other scholars have stressed the ways in which the exclusion of women was mitigated in practice. Legal historians, including Julius Kirshner and 2 See D. Hughes, "From Brideprice to Dowry in Mediterranean Europe," Journal of Fam­ ily History 3 (1978): 262-96, and M. Bellomo, Ricerche sui rapporti patrimoniali tra coniugi: Contributo alia storia della famiglia medievale (Milan, 1961). On the evidence that in Florence the donatio was limited by statute at least from the early thirteenth century, see Bellomo, p. 16. 3 Statuti della repubblica fiorentina, ed. R. Caggese (Florence, 1910), vol. 2, pp. 69,139— 41. This body of statutes was collected in 1325, though many date from the 1200s. 4 "[U]n organismo politico-militare, e la cui sostanza era costuita dal deliberate programma di escludere Ie donne da tutti i beni conferiti in comune." Bellomo, Ricerche sui rapporti, p. 8. He speaks in general terms of the family, and does not discuss the lineage per se.

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Thomas Kuehn, have pointed to efforts by jurists to soften the impact of this customary exclusion.5 More generally, Jack Goody and other schol­ ars have suggested that the dowry has been over-emphasized and was only one moment in a series of exchanges between families.6 However, Christiane Klapisch-Zuber has pointed out that in Florence these ex­ changes were remarkably one-sided. In the fourteenth century, husbands might expend as much as a third of the amount of the dowry on an elab­ orate "counter-trousseau" for the bride, including clothing, jewels, fur­ nishings, and linens. Klapisch has found that these gifts were often tem­ porary, even rented for the occasion, and served to create only a symbolic balance.7 The lineage could not entirely displace the older and more stable form of organization that still structured magnate families, the cognatic kin­ dred. In the kindred as it existed before the adoption of the lineage, women had stronger property rights, ancestry was traced through both male and female lines, and bonds between friends were often more im­ portant than those between relatives. In other words, individuals viewed their kin groups in both ways, as the circle of family surrounding both husband and wife, and as the patrilineage. For the thirteenth-century Florentine patriciate, property was transmitted along patrilineal lines, but cognatic principles were also important, as was revealed at weddings and funerals. Nevertheless, although a woman took her father or her hus­ band's surname, and technically belonged to the lineage, she was in fact an outsider. As Klapisch-Zuber has written, women were "passing guests" in houses composed of men.8 Did women consider themselves lineage outsiders, excluded from real membership or participation? The problem is difficult to study because of the lack of evidence for the attitudes or even the real situations of medie­ val Florentine women. For this reason, the Vita of the Beata Umiliana dei Cerchi is a significant—and fascinating—document. Umiliana (ca. 12191246) was the rebellious daughter of a rising Florentine banker, Oliviero dei Cerchi. Her saint's life was written by a contemporary, the Franciscan 5 See for example Julius Kirshner, "Wives' Claims Against Insolvent Husbands in Late Medieval Italy," in Women of the Medieval World, ed. J. Kirshner and S. Wemple (Oxford, 1985); Thomas Kuehn, "Some Ambiguities of Female Inheritance Ideology in the Renais­ sance" Continuity and Change 2 (1987): 11—36.1 would like to thank Prof Kuehn for mak­ ing this article available to me. 6 Jack Goody, The Development of the Family and Marriage in Europe (Cambridge, 1983), pp. 240-61. 7 Christiane Klapisch-Zuber, "The Griselda Complex: Dowry and Marriage Gifts in the Quattrocento," Women, Family and Ritual in Renaissance Italy, trans. L. G. Cochrane (Chicago, 1985), pp. 213—46. 8 C. Klapisch-Zuber, "The Cruel Mother: Maternity, Widowhood and Dowry in Florence in the Fourteenth and Fifteenth Centuries," Women, Family and Ritual, p. 118.

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Vito da Cortona, and was based on the evidence of eyewitnesses.9 Umiliana's Vita has recently attracted some attention: Anna Benvenuti Papi plausibly argues that it was written as a hagiographic model for Francis­ can tertiaries, while Rudolph Bell less convincingly sees Umiliana as a paradigmatic married "holy anorexic."10 From the perspective of social and family history, Umiliana's Vita is also a remarkable window into the situations and attitudes of a group of well-to-do women in thirteenth-century Florence. The witnesses to her sanctity were three Franciscan brothers and thirty Florentine women: her sisters-in-law, stepmother, servants, nuns and recluses, and wives and widows from parishes throughout the city. Umiliana's life evidently struck a responsive chord in the women around her. Thus the Vita is sig­ nificant both as an account of Umiliana's own career and motivations and as a glimpse at the religious attitudes of women in the mid-thirteenthcentury city. As a source for Umiliana's precise motives and actions, the Vita is of course problemmatic. It was written as a source of religious inspiration and as a guide for others. Hagiographers notoriously relied on the con­ ventions of their genre, drawing not on events but on earlier models. However, to dismiss the text on these grounds would be mistaken, for several reasons. Fra Vito was a contemporary of the Beata and explicitly based his account on eyewitness reports, so that the text cannot be too far from her actual career. To my knowledge there is no evidence of a lack of veracity. Further, even if the Vita is not an accurate report of Umi­ liana's life, it is certainly a description of her actions and motives as her friends and supporters saw them. As I shall argue, it was the popularity of this ideal that was most significant. Further, as Andre Vauchez has written, Umiliana's Vita in fact was not derivative, but instead established a new model for feminine spirituality.11 Umiliana's early actions were to turn her expected role as a daughter, wife, and mother almost upside down. The daughter of one banker, she was married off to another in 1236, at the age of sixteen. A month after she joined her husband, she became repulsed by her comfortable, even luxurious situation and by the worldly life expected of her. At the insti9 Vito of Cortona, "Vita de B. Aemiliana seu Umiliana," Acta Sanctorum, vol. 27 (19 May), pp. 385—402. References to the "Vita" that do not include direct quotations will appear in parentheses in the text. 10 Rudolph Bell, Holy Anorexia (Chicago, 1985), chap. 4, and Anna Benvenuti Papi, "Umiliana dei Cerchi. Nascita di un culto nella Firenze del Dugento," Studi Francescani 77 (1980): 87—117, which lists the other extant sources for Umiliana's career. See also my review of Bell in American Ethnologist 15, no. 1 (February 1988): 170—71. 11 Andre Vauchez, La saintete en Occident aux derniers siecles du Moyen Age, Bibliotheque de I'Ecole Fransaise de Rome, 1981, pp. 244-46.

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gation of her pious sister-in-law Ravenna, she began to attend mass every day and to devote herself to the poor and infirm. Umiliana practiced se­ cret acts of charity, sneaking things from the household to give to the poor. "O who is worthy to describe how many times this blessed woman secretly took pieces of bread from her husband's table and concealed them in order to distribute them later to the poor."12 Umiliana also began to give away her trousseau and "counter-trous­ seau," the clothing and linens provided her by her husband as a mark of her passage into his family.13 Fra Vito writes that the rich clothing she wore out of deference to her husband became for her not a pleasure but a cross. And so, she gave it away to the poor. Noticing a leper on the street, she stopped to make the dramatic gesture of ripping her headband, using half to bind the man's head. Emulating St. Martin, Umiliana di­ vided her cloak: she tore a large portion off the bottom of a new scarlet tunic given to her by her husband, made it into sleeves and sold them, giving the proceeds to the poor for food. This was a direct repudiation of her role as a noblewoman, involving the wearing of rich clothing as a mark of the status of her husband and his lineage. Some of her acts of piety directly undermined the physical aspects of her marriage. Umiliana sold linens from their marriage bed and even ex­ tracted some of the feathers to make a smaller bed that she gave for the use of the sick at the convent of Ripoli. In a sense, she also performed the work expected of a young wife, but she directed it not towards the house­ hold but the Lord. She sewed linens for the church and prepared food for the holy men and women of the city. Umiliana did not so much reject marriage as subvert it, undermining her marriage, household, and family. Fra Vito tells us that Umiliana was little distressed at the prospect of the illness or even death of one of her children. He quotes her: "O how blessed they would be if they were to die so unstained, still bearing their virginity. If it is God's will, I would prefer that they die and go to glory rather than live, lest at some time they offend God and so lose a portion of the eternal inheritance."14 Human life for Umiliana was inevitably pol­ luting; at times she seems closer to her Cathar contemporaries than to orthodox Franciscans. Not surprisingly, Umiliana's relations with her husband were strained. However, he proved no real obstacle to her saintly acts, which seem more 12 "O quis dicere valeat, quoties ipsa benedicta appositi panis fragmenta latenter subduceret a viri sui mensa et absconderet, postmodum pauperibus eroganda!" "Vita," 386 B. 13 On the "counter-trousseau," see Klapisch-Zuber, "The Griselda Complex." 14 "O quam beati essent, si tam immaculati discederent, sic secura virginitatem portantes. Potius volo quod moriantur, si voluntas Dei est, et vadant ad gloriam, quam ut vivant; ne ipsos contigat aliquando Deum effendere, et partem perdere illius summae caritatis et hereditatis aeternae." "Vita," 386 B.

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a rejection of her situation than of her husband. Umiliana's and her sisterin-law's independent style of piety was not altogether well received by the community: Fra Vito mentions that they were threatened and even beaten by men as a result of the extended amounts of time they spent away from home visiting holy places. Umiliana's household also opposed her, and Fra Vito tells us that she was often injured by the reproaches delivered "by the great and the small of the house. She was even beaten at one time because of works of piety, which she had humbly offered to the needy, and forgetting it all she remained yielding and friendly toward those members of the household."15 It is not clear who actually beat her, but judging from the text, opposition came not specifically from her husband but from the whole household. Umiliana's husband died after five years of marriage. When he was on his deathbed she offered to donate her dowry for the love of God if he would truly repent and make restitution of usury. He apparently turned her down. Fra Vito goes on to say that his death left Umiliana freer to perform acts of charity, and she openly fed the poor at her table.16 Umi­ liana's husband is almost a cipher: he is never named, and his only posi­ tive act is to die and thus free her to feed the poor. After a year, Umiliana returned to her father's house. "[U]nder her father's power, she was pestered to contract a second marriage with end­ less threats and harassment by her father, brothers, and other consanguinei."17 These are the real villains in the Vita: Umiliana's father and kins­ men. Her father became a direct obstacle to her devout wishes. Apparently because her mother was not living, she was taken to a mater­ nal aunt to be coaxed into remarriage, but refused. Bolstered by the divine encouragement she received while praying in the family tower, Umiliana decided that she would rather hand her body to the flames than to a sec­ ond husband. She asked her kinsmen to bring to her the man she was to marry, and to light an oven, and then to see which one she chose. Her consanguinei did not dare to press the issue further. When her father realized that she was determined to remain chaste, Fra Vito writes, he tricked her out of her dowry. The method was significant. Assembling a group of ignoti forenses, a communal judge, and other of15 "O quantis dilacerata injuriis et exprobata verbis, a magnis et parvis domus! Erat etiam verberata aliquando propter opera pietatis, quae humiliter impedebat egenis, omniaque obliviscens circa praedictos familiaris et tractabilis persistebat." "Vita," 387 A. 16 This seems to contradict the passage quoted above. If members of the household could beat Umiliana, they should also have been able to prevent her from feeding the poor at her table. Members of the husband's lineage, the Bonaguisi, survived him and raised his chil­ dren. 17 [RJeversa est in domum patris, et sub eius potestate constituta, pro secundis nuptiis celebrandis diuturnis minis et vexationibus a patre, fratribus, et consanguineis aliis fatigata . . . "Vita," 387 C.

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ficials, he called Umiliana and explained that he was engaged in a dispute with her late husband's household over the return of her dowry. This was common: late thirteenth-century records include many cases in which widows went to court to force the husband's family, often their own sons, to repay the dowry.18 They were typically represented by the most inter­ ested parties, their fathers and brothers, who would have to support them if their dowries were lost. Thus the ruse was a plausible one. To recover the dowry, Oliviero dei Cerchi explained, it was necessary for her to le­ gally empower him by signing over her rights (literally, her jus). Umiliana refused because she was unwilling to swear a secular oath. Instead, she handed over her rights verbally: "Father, it is not necessary to do this. Let your will be done."19 After the fact, she realized that she had been tricked into giving up her dowry. "I did not recognize that my father wished to act fraudulently toward me: behold, he has taken away the dowry that he gave me." She clearly grasped the significance of her father's action. Her dowry was her only permanent resource, as she had no further claim on her hus­ band's estate. Without her dowry, even if she wanted to remarry, she could not; she now had no alternative but to rely on the charity of her father and brothers. Thus she saw her father's action as a breach of trust: "As I see, there is no trustworthiness on earth, since a father denies and withholds the truth from a daughter, and a daughter does the same to her father." She also saw that the loss of her dowry meant the loss of her status. She had become a family dependent: "Thus let my father keep me in his house from now on not as a daughter but as a servant."20 Unlike the parents of St. Catherine of Siena, Oliviero did not take her up on the offer. As Davidsohn suggested, her beleaguered father probably hoped simply to prevent her from giving the entire dowry to the poor. Umiliana remained in her father's house. She wanted to join the con­ vent of Monticelli, but was unable to do so, and took instead the habit of the Franciscan tertiaries. For the remainder of her life, she lived in a cell in the family tower, with a servant to care for her, and left her cell only to attend mass or to go on pious errands. Her life was devoted to prayer and 18 For an example of a significant case from this period, in which repayment of the dowry apparently exhausted the estate, see the 1248 court case involving a branch of the Abati, discussed in chap. 2. It is edited in Documenti, ed. Santini, part 2, n. ci, pp. 344—46. 19 "Pater non est necesse hoc fieri: fiat tamen voluntas vestra." "Vita," 387 E. As Daniel Bornstein pointed out to me, this was probably an intentional (and ironic!) echo of the Lord's Prayer. 20 The whole passage reads: "Non percipi quod fraudulenter vellet erga me agere pater meus: ecce privavit me dotibus quas mihi dederat, benedictus Deus: et non reclamans, sed patienter ferens, pauperitatis amatrix dixit: Ut video non est fides in terra, quia pater filiae, et filia patri detrahit et denegat veritatem. Habet igitur me pater meus in domo sua deinceps, non ut filiam, sed ut famulam et ancillam." "Vita," 387 E.

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fasting, to temptations, visions, and prolonged periods of mystical ec­ stasy. Umiliana's enclosure in the tower marks the defeat of her kinsmen: from this point on, they ceased to be real obstacles to her career. Never­ theless, their skepticism and worldliness annoyed and distressed her. When her father tried to move her out of her cell to make room for a cousin and his bride, she simply refused, and Oliviero was protected from divine retribution only by the saint's prayers.21 Another anecdote, which Fra Vito says madonna Dialta heard directly from Umiliana, gives a vivid glimpse of her relations with her brothers. Once, when Umiliana had re­ mained lost in mystical ecstasy for two days and a night, her skeptical brothers became worried about her well-being and, apparently afraid that she had suffered a seizure, forced open her jaws with a knife. Later, she often scoffed at them for this action ("Vita," 394 B). Nevertheless, Umiliana was still disturbed by her kinsmen's reactions. When her young daughter came to visit her, and fell unconscious, Umi­ liana first tried to revive the child. Then, convinced of her death, she prayed to God to restore the girl and to take away the trouble and scandal her kinsmen would bring upon her because of the girl's death. The child was restored ("Vita," 396 A). In Umiliana's last days, as she rested in quiet meditation, her brothers noisily disturbed and harassed her, appar­ ently checking to see whether she was alive or dead. She prayed that none of them would be present at her actual death, and her prayer was granted ("Vita," 398 D, 399 B).22 Umiliana's kinsmen could only pester her; her real opponents were now demons. They stepped into the place of her kinsmen, and remarkably enough urged the same point of view. During Lent, when she insisted on remaining silent, a demon came to her, "bearing the bodies of the dead, saying, 'speak to your consanguineis, whom you see placed near you.' " In effect, he was calling on her to perform the traditional role of a daugh­ ter of the Cerchi house, and mourn their dead. When she remained un­ moved, the demon tried again, this time with the forms of her two chil21 The Lord struck down both the cousin Galganus and his wife for troubling Umiliana. Galganus actually died, but his soul may have been saved by the prayers of Umiliana, Fra Vito tells us. When Umiliana foresaw that the Lord would strike down her father as well, she was able to temper the punishment with prayers. "Vita," 394 F, 395 C. 22 Judging from the records of her eighteenth-century canonization, it took a full century after her death before the Cerchi lineage recovered from the embarrassment and began to promote her cult. See ASF Carte Cerchi, 151, 156, and 157 for her canonization; 152 de­ scribes her feste. Benvenuti Papi argues that Umiliana's rejection of her lineage was a hagiographical topos; see "Umiliana dei Cerchi," p. 108. It seems to me that Umiliana's oppo­ sition to her lineage and its values was too fundamental to be brushed aside as mere convention. In fact, it is revealing that the Franciscans were willing to encourage her and then foster her cult despite her kinsmen.

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dren. Although they were actually alive, the demon displayed their images on a pallet, newly dead, saying "Will you not speak to your children, whom you see newly dead before you?"23 When this also failed, he tried the images of Our Lady and the baby Jesus, and then finally, that of her loyal sister-in-law Ravenna. Again, Umiliana revealed her saintliness through remaining untouched by the claims of kinship and the obligation of mourning. This was the beginning of a procession of demons who conjured up images of death by violence to distract and frighten her from her prayers. One showed her the gory body of a cleric who had recently been killed. Another used the suggestion of sexual corruption and violence within the convent to press her kinsmen's point of view. Carrying mangled male and female corpses, the demon asked her why she associated with the con­ vents at Ripoli and Monticelli, when the sisters' quarrels over their lovers had led to all this mayhem. Instead, the demon argued, Umiliana "could with safety marry a noble and prudent man, both laudably and advanta­ geously."24 These apparitions tested her resolve and her physical courage. When Umiliana withstood a temptation, the demon often would strike her. One demon told her that there was war in the streets, that fires were raging and soon to consume her tower, urging her to come to the window to see for herself ("Vita," 390 D). Even at her deathbed, after her brothers de­ parted, a demon replaced them and harassed the saint until it too was driven away by candles and prayers ("Vita," 399 D). Umiliana's struggles reached a peak with the appearance in her cell of two serpents. The first was a satanic one, which she ultimately was able to drive away with words. It left behind a foul smell, which she also drove out, and her cell was filled with the sweet fragrance of heaven. Then Satan introduced into her cell a large serpent, not an imagined snake but a real one, Fra Vito tells us. Umiliana was so terrified that she could neither pray effectively nor sleep. When she tried to rest, she wrapped a cloth around her legs and fastened it with a belt, "lest the snake steal in by her feet and touch the naked body to some extent."2S She finally summoned her cour23 "[AJdstitit ei daemon, afferens corpora mortuorum, dicens: Loquere consanguineis tuis, quos conspicis positos coram te." "Numquid filias tuas non alloqueris, quas cemis mortuas noviter ante te?" "Vita," 389 F-390 A. 24 "Vah! Quae quaeris conversari cum Sororibus monasteriorum de Monticellis et Ripoli (propter quas, de amasiis suis enormiter altercantes, haec omnia tam crudelia, quae aspicis, ante te posita sunt) quae cum salute viro nobili et prudenti posses salubriter et laudabiliter maritari." "Vita," 390 A-B. 25 "[N]e subintraret a pedibus serpens et attingeret aliquatenus corpus nudum." "Vita," 391 A. On Umiliana's struggle with the serpent, and parallel incidents in the lives of other women saints, see E. Petroff, "Transforming the World: The Serpent-Dragon and the Virgin Saint," Arche: Notes and Papers in Archaic Studies 6 (1981): 53—70.

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age, lifted the snake up with her hands and ordered it out the window. It was after these victories that Fra Vito began to recount the saint's mira­ cles, which were not surprising, as he points out, in a woman who was able to drive out demons with a word ("Vita," 391 C). While Umiliana's brothers remained skeptical of her powers, the women of the household were her supporters. The witnesses to her sanc­ tity included her stepmother, servants, and three cognatae. One of them was a sister-in-law, who had a room directly beneath her cell, who testi­ fied to the odor of sanctity coming from Umiliana's chamber. When an angel brought Umiliana heavenly bread, she cosily shared it with her sis­ ter, her stepmother, and a Franciscan friar. Umiliana was part of an early network of pious Florentine women, as Benvenuti Papi suggests. After she lost her dowry, she began to visit the God-fearing noblewomen in the city to beg alms for impoverished nuns ("Vita," 388 A). The Vita gives the impression of a constant stream of visitors in her cell, her kinswomen, children, the Franciscans, and pious women from around the city. She healed their injuries, gave them spiritual counsel, and sometimes predicted the future for them. She foresaw the death of Ravenna's husband, and rather unpleasantly sent her servant with a warning ("Vita," 395 C). Umiliana recalls the sociable anchoresses who, walled off from society, lived at major crossroads and appear to have spent most of their time giving advice.26 The bulk of the Vita of Umiliana is an account of her spiritual life within the tower: of prayers, visions and ecstasies, temptations, miracles, lingering illness, death and postmortem miracles. Her experiences reveal the fascination with disease and mortification of the flesh, and the devo­ tion to the Eucharist, that are typical of the Vitae of the women saints of the period. There is a startling element of maternal tenderness in the Vita. Jesus often appeared to her as a small boy, happily playing in her cell ("Vita," 396 F-397 A). In one pretty scene, she tried to capture the dove of the Holy Spirit as a plaything for a real child in the household. Rudolph Bell has characterized her as an unfit mother and as a mother "who wished to kill."27 In fact she simply believed that it was better for her children to die than to lose their purity. Umiliana was drawn to the in­ nocence of childhood; it was marriage and the procreation of children that she found objectionable. There is a strong undercurrent of revulsion against the body and sexu­ ality, suggested by the episodes with the snakes. When Umiliana left the house to attend Mass, she kept her eyes lowered, apparently to avoid even 26 See A. Benvenuti Papi, "Santita femminile nel territorio fiorentino e lucchese; considerazioni intorno a] caso di Verdiana da Castelfiorentino," Religiosita e societa in Valdelsa nel basso medioevo, Biblioteca della "Miscellanea storica della Valdelsa" 3 (1980): 113—44. 27 Holy Anorexia, p. 112.

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the sight of men. She was distressed when she was forced to look up to avoid being bumped by a horse and caught a glimpse of the rider ("Vita," 394 C). One day a skeptical passerby teased her by asking why she did not accept a husband, "with whom [she] could thoroughly enjoy the plea­ sures of this world?" Umiliana replied by wishing herself deaf and dumb, so that she would not have to hear such things.28 On her deathbed she asked that a cloth be purchased to wrap up her feet so that no mortal could touch them ("Vita," 398 E). One remarkable feature of the life of Umiliana is the fact that she was successful: her kinsmen were not able to browbeat her into conformity and remarriage. In some ways, she was protected by her Franciscan ad­ mirers and by communal law. But her success also testifies to the power of her spiritual ideal. She recalls other female saints, like the early Chris­ tian martyr Perpetua, who also challenged paternal authority.29 Past a certain point, Umiliana could not be withstood, and her lineage had to accede to her wishes. Umiliana renounced her marriage and lineage not as an outsider, like St. Francis, but from within. Her Vita is remarkable in the explicit impor­ tance given to kinship: her spiritual career was directly motivated by her rejection of lineage duty. The antagonism between Umiliana and her dis­ appointed kinsmen is almost the central event in the Vita. And after the kinsmen were defeated, her demons went on to urge the same point of view. Whether this is an accurate tale of Umiliana's life and family rela­ tionships is almost beside the point. This is the version given by her Fran­ ciscan supporters and by her female contemporaries: these are the actions and characteristics that they felt made her a saint. Umiliana's witnesses and supporters were a group of women who saw the situation of a woman within the household—and in particular her relationship with her husband, father, and other kinsmen—as an obstacle to her spirituality. Were the concerns expressed in this saint's life general, or was Umiliana simply an oddity? She was part of a large group of women who found in the third orders an alternative to either marriage or enclosure in a con­ vent. As Benvenuti Papi has pointed out, Umiliana's Vita was in part writ­ ten as a model for these women. Some Florentine tertiaries, like Umiliana, lived with their families, but many resided in clusters of houses around the Franciscan and Dominican churches. This allowed women with mea­ ger resources to live more comfortably. Their attachment to the mendi­ cant orders gave them protection, respectability, and a public spirtual 28 "Iterum quadam die dum eundo per viam audiret a quodam, quare non accepisti dulcem virum, cum quo laetanter hujus mundi deliciis posses perfrui et gaudere; respondit: Utinam essem caeca et surda, ut deinceps talia non audirem." "Vita," 394 D. 29 For a perceptive discussion of the passion of St. Perpetua, see Peter Dronke, Women Writers of the Middle Ages (Cambridge, 1984), pp. 2—4.

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role. The tertiaries were popular not only with widows but with women who had never married. As early as 1228, the orders—presumably re­ sponding to pressures from exasperated families—made efforts to restrict the number of virgins who could be admitted to the penetential state. Thus Umiliana's fellow tertiaries shared her rejection of marriage and her choice of the penetential life. Probably these women were her audience and together with the Franciscan brothers fostered her cult.30 The most radical of her beliefs recalls not the Franciscans or Domini­ cans but contemporary Cathars. Her denial of the value of material life and her rejection of marriage were articles of the Cathar faith. A Cathar church was firmly established in Florence in the twelfth century. The city in fact was the Tuscan administrative center, and the seat of a Cathar bishop. Cathars were long tolerated and perhaps even respected by the Florentines, and were actively persecuted by the Inquisition only in the 1240s, when the heresy became bound up in the opposition between the Guelf and Ghibelline parties. Umiliana lived in the period of intense op­ position between the Franciscans and the Cathars, and her hagiographers were careful to insist on her orthodoxy. Nevertheless, the main support­ ers of Cathar teachings and circles in Florence were often patrician women, and it may be that they shared with Umiliana and her orthodox supporters a common set of spiritual concerns.31 The Cathars followed variants of dualism, so that salvation meant the freeing of the spirit from physical matter. Direct evidence for the beliefs of Florentine Cathars is scanty. A Cathar from Prato testified that "he did not believe that a man who is together with his wife in carnal marriage can be saved."32 A dialogue between a Catholic and a Cathar, written by an orthodox Florentine layman around 1240, reveals at least the concerns that the orthodox thought were important to the Cathars. The Cathar in the dialogue speaks very strongly against marriage and sexuality: "We must believe that the tree which is in the midst of Paradise is the womb of woman, of which it is said, 'Of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil, thou shalt not eat,' meaning, seek not fornication with woman. But 30 On the Florentine tertiaries, see G. G. Meersseman, Ordo Fraternitatis: Confraternite e pieta dei laid nel medioevo (Rome, 1977), vol. 1, pp. 355—412. For a discussion of the state of research, see Anna Benvenuti Papi, "Penitenza e penitenti in Toscana. Stato della questione e prospettive della ricerca," Ricerche di storia sociale e religiosa 9 (1980): 107— 20. 31 For a summary of the scholarship on Florentine heresy, see Dinora Corsi, "Firenze 1300—1350: 'Non conformismo' religioso e organizzazione inquisitoriale," Annali dell'Istituto di Storia, Universita di Firenze, Faeolta di Magisterd, 1 (1979): 29—66. Benvenuti Papi carefully analyzes Umiliana's Vita against the background of the anti-Cathar and anti-Ghibelline political climate of the period. Davidsohn, Storia vol. 2, pp. 202—3. 32 ASF, Diplomatico, S. Maria Novella, 26 gennaio 1244, printed by F. Tocco, Quel cbe non c'e nella Divina Commedia, ο Dante e I'eresia (Bologna, 1899), n. 2, pp. 35—37.

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the serpent, which is the devil, first ate of the tree, for he fornicated with Eve, wherof Cain was born. Eve thereafter offered and gave it to her man for she subsequently committed adultery with Adam, from which were born Abel and Seth." On marriage, the Cathar states, "We do not con­ demn marriage but adultery. Marriage is between Christ and the Church . . . but that foul business which a man does with a woman when they physically commingle, it is that adultery which we forbid."33 One implication of this doctrine is that the birth of a child is to be deplored: a spirit has been trapped in flesh. Even sodomy is preferable to marriage, according to this dialogue.34 Pregnant women were sometimes described as carrying demons; a witness before Inquisitor Bernard Gui in Languedoc testified that a pregnant woman could not be given the consolamentum, the Cathar sacrament, and thus could not be saved. Another text described a pregnant woman as leaving the Cathar faith after perfectae, holy women, left her open to public ridicule by telling her that she carried a demon in her womb.35 Scholars have generally argued that women were drawn to Catharism, despite its condemnation of childbirth and sexuality, as a way out of so­ cial or economic difficulties or as a means of achieving status denied them in the orthodox church. Gender at least in theory was not a bar to priestly status, and a woman could become a perfecta and administer the sacra­ ment.36 It may be, however, that some women were drawn to the Cathars because of their teachings, their radical spirituality and revulsion from 33 "Paterinus:

Credere debemus quod lignum quod est in medio paradisi est vulva mulieris, de quo dictum est, 'de ligno scientiae boni et mali ne comedas': id est, noli fornicari cum muliere; sed serpens, id est diabolus, primo comedit de hoc ligno, quia fornicatus est cum Eva et ex illo coitu natus est Cain; Eva postea porrexit, &c dedit viro suo, quia postea adulterata est cum Adam, & et nati sunt inde Abel 8c Seth." "Nos matrimoniam non condemnamus, sed adulterium. Matrimonium est inter Christum 8C Ecclesiam . . . sed illud turpe negotium, quod homo facit cum muliere, quando ei carnaliter commiscetur, illud adulterium est quod nos prohibemus." These passages are from the "Disputation Between a Catholic and a Patarine Heretic," Thesaurus novus anecdotorum, ed. E. Martene and U. Durand (Paris, 1917), vol. 5, cols. 1710-14. The translation of the first passage is from Heresies of the High Middle Ages, trans. W. L. Wakefield and A. P. Evans (New York, 1969), p. 295; the second is mine. 34 "Sodomiticum vitium prius eligitis, vel masculorum concubitis." This charge was not true: there is no evidence that the Cathars advocated sodomy, although it does follow from their beliefs that homosexuality is preferable to heterosexuality. On the impact of dualism on orthodox Christian attitudes toward sexuality, see J. T. Noonan, Contraception (New York, 1965). 35 R. Abels and E. Harrison, "The Participation of Women in Languedocian Catharism," Medieval Studies 41 (1979): 219n. See also John Mundy, "Les femmes a Toulouse au temps des cathares," Annates 42, no. 1 (1987): 117-34. 36 For a careful examination of these views and a quantitative study of Cathar women in Languedoc, see Abels and Harrison, "The Participation of Women," pp. 215—51.

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6

sexuality and childbirth. Certainly these attitudes were shared by Umiliana and her female admirers. A startling number of well-to-do women were drawn to Florentine Cathar circles, according to the witnesses who testified before the Inquisition in the 1240s. Further, women seem to have taken an active part in spread­ ing the faith. A woman named Albensa testified that she had lived in her­ etic houses for four months in order to be taught the Cathar dogma by two women, one of whom was Meliorata, who was later burned in Prato.37 Adalina, the wife of messer Albizo Tribaldi, was led into heresy primarily by her mother and female acquaintances. She testified that it was in her youth, in her father's house in Capallo, that she first saw "Pauperes de Loduno," probably Waldensians, and that her mother spoke of them approvingly. Later she saw many Cathars in her husband's house. The people she mentions as commending the life of the Cathars to her are two women. It is interesting that it was the austere life of the Cathar per­ fect that was appealing. Adalina lists quite a number of heretics she had seen, including madonna Teodora, wife of Albertino Malacreste, and ma­ donna Avegnente, daughter of Nerlo.38 The best-documented Cathar magnate households belonged to the Pulci and Nerli lineages. Again, the meager testimony suggests that women in these households took the initiative. Madonna Lamandina, the wife of Renaldo de'Pulci, stated that she first encountered the heretics through her sister-in-law, madonna Margerita the wife of Pulce, and without her husband's knowledge. He seems to have joined as well, and she saw many Cathars in his house. She mentions five women who came to the house to see perfectae, including Adalina.39 Lamandina also repeated hearsay evidence, which, if accurate, gives real insight into a Cathar household. Lamandina heard that madonna Ghisola, wife of the late Aldobrando, and her sisters, Avegnente, Diana, and Sophia, daughters of the late Nerlo, all came to the house to see their sister madonna Margherita receive the consolamentum. Here was a group of sisters, all at least sympathetic to the heresy, quietly attending the ceremony in which one of them became a perfecta just as an orthodox household might celebrate a son's ordination. Note also that Margherita, 37

ASF, Diplomatico, S. Maria Novella, 1245; Tocco, Quel che non c'e, n. 11, pp. 45—46. ASF, Diplomatico, S. Maria Novella, 26 aprile 1245; Tocco, Quel che non c'e, n. 13, pp. 48-50. 39 These were probably wealthy and important households. Rinaldo de' Pulci was one of the ten guarantors of 5,000 silver pounds pledged by Florence in the arbitration of a dispute with Siena; see Davidsohn, Storia vol. 2, p. 416. Gerardo Neri de Nerlis was condemned for heresy long after his death, perhaps for political reasons. He was probably the brother of the woman mentioned by Lamandina; for the evidence that he was a consul, see chap. 4. His condemnation is ASF, Diplomatico, S. Apollonia di Firenze, 23 agosto 1313; Tocco, Quel che non c'e, n. 25, pp. 73—78. 38

DISAFFECTION FROM THE LINEAGE

123

the sister who received the consolamentum, was married to a Pulci, and sister-in-law to the witness, Lamandina the wife of Renaldo de'Pulci. The heresy in this case certainly seems to have spread through a feminine net­ work. This circle of Cathar women may have endured in Florence for decades, with living arrangements not unlike those of the tertiaries. A fragmentary trial record from the Florentine Inquisition, dated between 1280 and 1286, or about forty years later, mentions a circle of Cathar perfectae, including "Amatam and Dyanam," who rented the house of the daugh­ ters of Count Ugolino. As Raoul Manselli points out, Dyana was very probably the Nerli daughter who witnessed the consolamentum in 1245, still living as a perfecta. Perhaps her landlords tacitly supported her un­ orthodox beliefs.40 There is a continuity in the spiritual concerns of Florentine patrician women in the period, both orthodox and heretical, which is revealing.41 They shared a rejection of luxury and worldly values, and were drawn to a life of austerity. In this, they were close to their contemporaries in the Dominican and Franciscan orders. These religious women also joined in rejecting a married woman's role: they denied any spiritual value to mar­ riage, sexuality, or childbirth. And for the Cathars, a fetus in the mother's womb was a demon; a pregnant woman could not be saved. Household and lineage ties could only hamper a woman's spiritual growth. David Herlihy in a perceptive essay on alienation published in 1971 argued for two major sources of alienation in medieval society: the church and the family. Dissidents and heretics not only rejected the au­ thority and worldliness of the church, but turned their backs on marriage, procreation, and the family. Herlihy suggested that this was owing to gen­ erational conflict: the exigencies of maintaining a patrimony forced fam­ ilies effectively to dispossess some of their children, creating a class of 40 Raoul Manselli, "Per la storia dell'eresia catara nella Firenze del tempo di Dante," Bolletino dell'istituto storico italiano per il medio evo 62 (1950): 123—38, includes an edition of the document, which is in the Archivio ArcivescoviIe di Lucca. The witnesses were de­ scribing events that had occurred eight years before. 41 Although women from peasant or artisan households were at times drawn to the her­ esy, it was for different reasons. These women were placed more securely at the center of their households; families without patrimonies had little reason to act as patrilineages or to exclude the female line. I have not seen testimony from Cathar peasants in Tuscany or even northern Italy, but Peter Dronke has recently printed a few remarkable statements by women from the celebrated Cathar village of Montaillou in the early fourteenth century. Despite their Cathar leanings, these women affirmed their nurturing roles as mothers and in one remarkable case even the value of physical love. This is highly speculative, but perhaps it was not the attack on marriage and childbirth that was appealing, but rather the clear explanation of the problem of evil. See Dronke, Women Writers of the Middle Ages, p. 206.

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unmarriageable daughters and dispossessed sons.42 Some of the women mentioned here may fit this model: the Nerli daughters, for example, may have been unmarriageable. But in the specific circumstances of the twelfth- and thirteenth-century lineages, the individuals alienated from the family were not the dispossessed but rather youths like St. Francis and St. Clare—or Umiliana—who expected a substantial inheritance or an advantageous marriage. They were individuals who repudiated the family for other reasons, perhaps shaped their personalities by turning away from familial expectations. Undoubtedly, a whole range of factors influenced them to embrace the radical religious life. The choice was not only a negative rejection of the family, but the positive choice of a religious vocation. Still, it is clear that Umiliana dei Cerchi and her supporters found the patrilineage and its values profoundly alienating. We will turn next to a broader look at the situations of women within the magnate lineages, and in that context see what light the disaffection of these young women can shed on the general problem of the magnates. 42 David Herlihy, "Alienation in Medieval Culture and Society," reprinted in The Social History of Italy and Western Europe, 700-1500 (London, 1978), pp. 125—40.

WOMEN WITHIN THE LINEAGE

U

MILIANA dei Cerchi and her Franciscan and Cathar contempo­ raries were women who sought to turn their backs on marriage and the patrilineage. What of the vast majority of women, who remained within the family? Because a woman's status within the lineage was marginal, she was placed at the center of the relations between lin­ eages.1 Her life was immediately shaped by lineage interests when she moved from one family to another: when she was married and when she was widowed. The size of her dowry and the family's choice of a husband would be of great concern to the lineage. If her husband died before she did, her place of residence, resources, and possible remarriage would again be affected by the interests of both houses. A woman's marriage concerned not only her immediate kinsmen but the whole lineage. This was most dramatically apparent when warring lineages made peace by marrying off the daughter of one house to the son of the other. Some marriages arranged for this purpose must have been perfectly stable, but the chroniclers recount several episodes in which women were victimized by the practice. In the dispute of 1217 between Oddo Arrighi and the Buondelmonti, peace was initially arranged through a marriage between Buondelmonte di Buondelmonte and Oddo's niece. Interestingly, she was actually cognatic kin, Oddo's sister's daugh­ ter. She belonged to a different though closely allied lineage, the Amidei.2 In another episode, a young woman from the Buondelmonti, clever, wise, and lovely according to the chronicler, married Neri degli Uberti in 1239. The two families belonged to opposing factions and the marriage may 1 This recalls the structuralist approach to women taken by Georges Duby in Medieval Marriage: Two Models from Twelfth-Century France, trans. E. Forster (Baltimore and Lon­ don, 1978), and The Knight, the Lady and the Priest (New York: 1983). Susan Stuard has criticized Duby for this structuralist approach, which treats women as "ciphers used in a system of exchange by male lineages." Stuard is certainly right to take Duby and the Annales school to task and to press for a fuller reconstruction of the lives of women. However, I would argue that from the narrow perspective of lineage interests, Duby is correct. See S. M. Stuard, "The Annales School and Feminist History: Opening Dialogue with the Amer­ ican Stepchild," Signs 7, no. 1 (Fall 1981): 135—43. See also her essay on French historiog­ raphy in Women in Medieval History and Historiography, ed. S. M. Stuard (Philadelphia, 1987). 2 The story is told by Pseudo-Brunetto Latini, "Cronica Florentina," I primi due secoli della storia di Firenze, ed. Villari, vol. 2, p. 233.

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have been an effort to make peace. A few years later, fighting broke out between the two lineages and several Uberti were killed. According to a thirteenth-century chronicler, Neri degli Uberti then repudiated his wife, saying "I do not wish to beget sons of a traitor race." The marriage was annulled and her father married her off again, this time to a Sienese no­ bleman.3 The best-documented example of this practice is the pathetic career of Ravenna Donati. In January 1267, as the Ghibelline faction was losing its hold on the city, the Ghibellines made efforts to establish peace, which included a number of marital alliances. The daughter of the Guelf leader Count Guido Novello married an Adimari; Farinata degli Uberti, head of the Ghibellines, married his daughter to Guido Cavalcanti, and his son Azzolino to Ravenna, daughter of Simone Donati.4 The peace was short­ lived and by Easter of that year the Ghibellines were exiled. Ravenna's husband was captured three years later and decapitated in a public exe­ cution in Florence in May of 1270. The couple had produced two sons, who did not remain in their mother's care.5 Ravenna was shortly married off again, this time to Bello Ferrantini. As a Donati, Ravenna came from an old and aristocratic Florentine lin­ eage, and as the wife of an Uberti she had belonged to another. Bello was a newly rich banker and moneylender who traveled to the fairs in Cham­ pagne and had sums invested with the Scali, Mozzi, and Cerchi firms. He seems to have been a thoughtful man, judging from the generous provi­ sions of his will. Among other things, he left an atypically large number of gifts to friends and relations, including a large sum to his wife, an an­ nual gift of grain to his sister, and a sum to be given to his sister's daughter 3 "Annales florentini," ed. Hartwig, Quellen und Forschungen zur altesten Geschichte der Stadt Florenz, vol. 2, p. 225. According to the chronicler, when the new husband wished "to take joy of her in the manner owed," she explained that she could not be his wife, as she was already married to the "wisest and best knight in Italy, messer Neri degli Uberti." He acceded to her wishes and she entered the Florentine convent of Monticelli. The partisan tone of the story has led scholars to argue that it was drawn from a lost Uberti ricordanze. See R. Renier, introduction, Liriche edite ed inedite di Fazio degli Uberti (Florence, 1883), p. xxxv. 4 Villani, Cronica, book 7, chap. 15. Davidsohn mistakenly states that Ravenna married Neri Cozzo degli Uberti, Storia vol. 3, p. 241. 5 The death of Azzolino and his brothers is described by Villani, Cronica, book 7, chap. 35. The couple's two sons, Lapo and Ytte, were listed as penalized in the 1283 (postmortem) condemnation of their grandfather Farinata and his wife for heresy: for the text, see N. Ottokar, "La condanna postuma di Farinata degli Uberti," Studi comunali e ftorentini (Florence, 1948), pp. 115—23. Ravenna did not keep the boys because of her remarriage. A document of 1282 lists Lapo's two guardians as Maghinardo, who was Azzolino's surviving brother, and a Pulci. See Renier, p. lxxvii; he cites Capitoli, xxxi, 183'.

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on her marriage. He died fairly soon after their marriage, in 1277, leaving a son and two daughters.6 After Bello's death, Ravenna retired with the three young children to a Dominican convent, San Jacopo at Ripoli. It is hard to escape the conclu­ sion that she hoped to avoid a third marriage. She offered the convent not only herself and her children but the estate, and a long and unpleasant dispute arose as her brother Corso sought to gain control of the property. It is not clear that he had any legal rights in the matter. Bello's will had named Corso and Ravenna's father, Simone Donati, as one of the substi­ tutes in case Ravenna should fail to act as guardian. Corso's interest cer­ tainly gives the impression that the Donati had originally contracted the marriage with an eye to Bello's wealth, and now sought that property, although as the wife's natal kin they had little right to do so. In the course of the dispute, the young boy died, and Ravenna vacillated, for a time leaving the convent and naming Corso as the children's guardian. A fur­ ther legal case arose over a clause in Bello's will providing that in case of the death of his heir 1,000 libre were to go to the Franciscan tertiaries for the poor on behalf of Bello's soul. The whole case seems to have become a cause celebre. Ultimately, the girls remained in the convent, and their mother probably rejoined them; the property effectively was divided be­ tween Corso Donati and the religious house.7 The weak-willed Ravenna does seem to have been a pawn of her father's and brother's lineage inter­ ests. Corso is also credited with the particularly callous arrangement of a marriage for another sister, Piccarda. According to Dante, Piccarda had retired to a cell at Monticelli. Corso removed her, forcing her to break her vows to marry Rossellino della Tosa.8 The practice of healing disputes through the arrangement of marriages continued throughout the century. Neri Strinati detailed the marriages contracted when the Strinati and the della Tosa made peace in 1267.9 It was an important element of the peacemaking efforts of the papal legate Cardinal Latino in 1279.10 In 1290, the communal government itself re­ sorted to this method: the priors sought to make peace between two war­ ring lineages, the della Tosa and the Lamberti, by arranging two mar6 Bello Ferrantini's will is ASF Diplomatico, San Domenico nel Maglio, 26 maggio 1277. For his business interests, see Davidsohn, Forschungen in, Regest. 87, 97. 7 For this dispute, see Davidsohn, Storia vol. 3, pp. 241—42. The documents are ASF Dip­ lomatico, San Domenico nel Maglio, 5 luglio 1277 to 23 dicembre 1282. The final text is the pact resolving the issue, and includes lists of important magnate guarantors for both sides. See also Diplomatico, Santa Maria Novella, 30 giugno 1281, and Santa Maria degli Angeli, 7 agosto 1286. 8 Purgatorio, canto xxiv, lines 10-15; Paradiso, canto h i , lines 34—130; iv, lines 97-112. 9 Strinati, "Cronichetta," p. 110. 10 Villani, Cronica, book 7, chap. 56.

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riages between the families. Remarkably, the commune itself paid 1,400 libre in dowries for this purpose.11 In the case of Ravenna Donati, Bello Ferrantini was probably marrying a woman of high social position but small dowry. More commonly, the possible husbands for a young woman depended on the size of her dowry. As Diane Hughes has suggested, the dowry was not so much an inheri­ tance as a status system: the motive was not the orderly transmission of property but honorable provision for daughters.12 A large dowry did the family credit, as the young woman could marry well. Further, the per­ manent possession of a dowry ensured a woman's social position if her marriage came to an end, and thus protected the honor and standing of the family. Umiliana's comment when her father tricked her out of her dowry made her loss of status painfully clear: "Thus let my father keep me in his house from now on not as a daughter but as a servant."13 She had lost her standing in the family and in society. The size of a woman's dowry was in some ways a measure of her status, and reflected on her entire family. There were complaints by the end of the century that dowries had become very large, so that it was terribly expensive for a father to marry his daughters off properly. The point is hard to demonstrate, but it is clear that many dowries were very high. Villani commented on dowry inflation in contrasting the sober simplicity of the Primo Popolo with the luxury of his own time. Back then, one hundred libre was a common dowry, and three hundred was exorbitant, and girls waited until they were twenty before they married.14 A list of seventy dowries of the widows of exiles survives from 1329, the year in which the commune began to use a portion of the revenues from their husbands' confiscated properties to pay the widows allow­ ances in grain that were proportionate to their dowries.15 The dowries 11

Provvisioni Reg. n 87"~T; see 131'"v. "From Brideprice to Dowry." This view has been challenged by Jack Goody; see The Development of the Family and Marriage in Europe, appendix 2. For a recent com­ parative study challenging Goody and arguing that "dowry giving tends to be associated with wealth-based status competition," see S. FIarrell and S. Dickey, "Dowry Systems in Complex Societies," Ethnology 24, no. 2 (April 1985): 105-20. See also S. Chojnacki, "Dowries and Kinsmen in Early Renaissance Venice," Journal of Interdisciplinary History 5 (1975): 571-600. 13 "Habet igitur me pater meus in domo sua deinceps, non ut filiam, sed ut famulam et ancillam." "Vita," 387 E. 14 Villani, Cronica, book 6, chap. 69. 15 The list is printed in Table 7.1. The source is ASF Capitani di Parte, Numeri Rossi, 42, 1—14. I would like to thank Richard Goldthwaite, who very kindly ordered a microfilm of the document for me. Widows could choose either to be repaid the dowry or to accept the allowance. The allowance was generous: 8 staia of grain for the first 100 libre of dowry, and 6 staia for each successive 100 libre. In most cases it was advantageous to accept the allowance rather than the capital. On this text, see U. Dorini, "Un nuovo documento con12 Hughes,

WOMEN WITHIN THE LINEAGE

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dated between 1270 and 1316, with a single Uberti dowry from 1323. This list is a problemmatic source because of the political process of se­ lection, because of the fluctuations in the exchange between gold and sil­ ver coinage, and because the instrumenta naming the dowries may have been dated at different stages in the women's lives. As Table 7.1 shows, the list reveals the wide range of dowries given in the period, some as low as 50 libre, but is not clear evidence of dowry inflation.16 In size, magnate dowries varied considerably. Some were meager, like the 200 libre Gemma Donati brought to Dante in 1277. Others were im­ pressive. Scolaio degli Abati in his 1296 will left his daughter a princely dowry of 2,000 libre, valued at 29 soldi to the gold florin, or more than 1,700 florins.17 In a 1291 will, the prosperous banker messer Consiglio dei Cerchi left his daughter a dowry of 1,000 libre, despite having a great many sons. Interestingly, he himself was married in 1285 and received the same amount as his new wife's dowry.18 There were at times discrepan­ cies between the sizes of dowries coming into and going out of a family. This could result from the varying degrees of wealth of different house­ holds, but it also suggests that the dowry was not a simple index of status. A prestigious family might be able to marry its daughters off for smaller sums. The opposite may have been the case for the newly rich Mannelli. A Mannelli daughter in 1282 received a dowry of 600 libre; a Mannelli son emancipated in 1291 was given his wife's dowry of 400 libre.19 Needless to say, most magnate dowries were closer to these figures than to the high end of the range. Still, the evidence suggests that fathers felt pressure to allow their daughters dowries that were as large as possible. cernente Gemma Donati," Bolletino della societa Dantesca italiana, n.s. 9 nos. 7—8 (1902): 181—84. The dowries of Sienese women were comparable. See Eleanor S. Riemer, "Women in the Medieval City: Sources and Uses of Wealth by Sienese Women in the Thirteenth Cen­ tury," Ph.D. diss., N.Y.U., 1975, p. 61. 16 Thirteen of the dowries were named in gold florins. The value of the gold florin as opposed to the silver rapidly increased during the period. A few marriage contracts involv­ ing large dowries included an exchange rate, which might be below the market rate. A Cavalcanti daughter, married to an Amidei in 1296, received a dowry of 510 libre, which was explicitly payable at 29 soldi per gold florin, or about 350 florins, which was about 10 soldi less than Bernocchi's figure for that year. See Monache di S. Niccolo di Firenze, 15 gennaio 1295/6. Dolcino dei Rubeis in 1295 received from his new father-in-law 1,350 libre, at 40 soldi per florin, or 675 florins, which agrees with Bernocchi. See S. Maria degli Angeli, 8 ottobre 1295. Only three of the dowries before 1301 were quoted in gold florins; they have been converted at the rate given by Bernocchi, 47 soldi to the florin. 17 Diplomatico, Strozziane-Uggucione, 7 luglio 1296. 18 Diplomatico, Archivio Generale dei Contratti, 30 agosto 1291; Dono Cerchi-Canigiani #19, 13 settembre 1285. Consiglio was the son of Oliviero and probably Umiliana's brother. 19 Notarile 1104 91r; Notarile C 102 93v.

Dowries of Wives of Exiles in Libre, 1276-1300"

Source: Capitani di Parte, Numeri Rossi, 42,1-14. = Popolani dowries; M = Magnate dowries, bExchange: 40 s./fl. in 1299; 47 s./fl. in 1300.

WOMEN WITHIN THE LINEAGE

131

Messer Gentile of the Bagnesi, despite the claims of his six sons, left both his daughters dowries of 200 gold florins.20 The case has been made that the large size of dowries left some fathers unable or unwilling to provide adequately for all their daughters. Accord­ ing to this view, the convents became a convenient place to dump unmarriageable daughters, as it was far less expensive to establish young women as nuns.21 One kind of evidence which could support this view would be preferential treatment,in which one or two daughters received larger dowries than their sisters. The women with smaller dowries would be destined for the church. Of course, without detailed evidence, preferential treatment is not conclusive evidence for involuntary profession. The dis­ crepancy between dowries might also result from the specific circum­ stances of the marriages. At any rate, there is little evidence of preferential treatment. The one possible case is the Corbizzi property dispute dis­ cussed in chapter 3, in which an uncle attempted to reclaim his expenses in supporting his deceased brother's family. He supported one daughter for twenty-two years and then paid a dowry of 360 libre and another 20 libre on her donatio and a dinner; the other girl he kept for eleven years, and expended 38 libre to send her to a convent.22 The episode is odd because the daughter who married did so at an advanced age, by Floren­ tine standards. Of course, the daughter who became a nun may have cho­ sen the religious vocation. In fact, fathers were more apt to be mathematically fair, to their daugh­ ters as well as to their sons. In a will of 1241, messer Tegghaio of the Adimari provided that if his son were to die intestate with no male heir, and there was a single daughter, she was to receive a dowry of 1,200 libre. If there were two daughters, each would get 700 libre; if three or more, 500 libre each. Apparently anything below that figure would have been dishonorable.23 Neither have I seen contemporary references to involun­ tary profession, with one exception. In the course of the legal dispute between the Nerli and the abbess at Mantignano, the abbess at one point stated that the Nerli had offered to return the land purchased with the convent's money if she would take three Nerli women as nuns. This would have been a bad bargain for the Nerli, as the land was worth more than 2,500 libre.24 The cost of entry into a convent was much lower. Thus 20 Diplomatico,

Certosa, 19 aprile 1296. argument is made by Richard Trexler, "Le Celibat a la fin du Moyen Age: Les religieuses de Florence," Annates E.S.C. 27 (1972): 1329—50. For a critique, see J. Kirschner and A. Molho, "The Dowry Fund and the Marriage Market in Early Quattrocento Flor­ ence," Journal of Modern History 50, no. 3 (September 1978): 424—25. 22 Notarile, R 40, 31', 50-, 52\ 23 Diplomatico, Acquisto Marchi, 6 agosto 1241. 24 See Sant'Appollonia, 31 dicembre 1285. 21 This

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records of forced profession are rare. By contrast, women who chose the church over marriage against the wishes of their families are much in ev­ idence. At least one convent was swelling with nuns, many of whom were mag­ nates. The aristocratic Dominican house of SanJacopo at Ripoli divided in 1292. At that time, there were fifty nuns, implying that the division was provoked by the growth of the house to an unmanageable size. Iden­ tifying the nuns is awkward because their patronymics are not given, al­ though twenty-eight of them are identified with surnames. There are many magnates, probably including two Adimari and two Rossi daugh­ ters, a Cerchi, a Tisi, a Giandoni, a Bardi, a Donati, a Spini, a Caponsacchi, an Uberti, and a Visdomini in the text. There are three pairs of sisters identified, including the hapless daughters of Bello Ferrantini. This is by no means a list of impoverished families; rather, it includes women from the most prosperous banking houses in Florence. It is possible, of course, that the nuns came from unsuccessful branches of their lineages, or were otherwise unmarriageable. It is equally possible that they themselves chose the religious life, or that their families made the decision on devo­ tional grounds rather than as a solution for an unwanted child. The three pairs of sisters look a bit more suspicious, but one should not forget the saints' lives in which girls chose to follow their older sisters into the reli­ gious life, even, like Clare and Agnes, against their parents' wishes. The Ferrantini girls are also a good counterexample: certainly, both had sub­ stantial dowries.25 In effect, the large number of magnate women in the convent looks suspiciously as if the house was filling up with the un­ wanted daughters of the nobility, but the lack of biographical informa­ tion in most cases makes this conclusion a tenuous one. Lineage interests could come into play not only when a woman was mar­ ried, but when she was widowed. As Umiliana's conflict with her father over the control of her dowry suggests, a widow's situation was poten­ tially awkward. Usually, a woman had a permanent legal claim only to her dowry, and if her husband died, she was left with the choice of either support from his estate or the return of her dowry. This choice is often stipulated in men's wills. Provided the widow "kept chaste," and did not seek the return of her dowry, she was to receive support, termed alimenta. Sometimes the extent of this support was spelled out: use of a room in the husband's house, food, clothing, and linens. Alternatively, she might re­ ceive funds enabling her to pay rent elsewhere. If a widow reclaimed her dowry, she lost her right to alimenta and had no further rights to her 15 For this division, see Diplomatico, San Domenico nel Maglio, 26 settembre 1292. The Ferrantini girls each were to receive 800 libre.

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husband's estate. She did have the right termed the tornata, a right of retreat to her father's house. Presumably, she would return to her natal family, remarry, or enter the church. Once Umiliana lost her dowry she had no alternative to dependence on her natal family. The large size of dowries meant that they became an important part of a household's capital, so that it was greatly to the advantage of a widow's children if she remained unmarried and allowed them the use of the dowry. As Christiane Klapisch has pointed out, widows thus were caught between two lineages: pressured by their natal families to remarry and urged by their husband's kin to remain in his household and leave the dowry. Fourteenth-century references to widows who remarried as "cruel mothers" indicated not that they had left their children behind but that they had taken away their dowries.26 The actual situations of widows who chose to remain in their hus­ bands' household must have varied. Perhaps some were painfully depen­ dent, but the surviving texts suggest instead a careful respect for their rights. In one text from 1290, the three sons of a notary divided up their obligation to support their mother. They split into thirds payment of a certain amount of grain, wine, oil, pork, and rent. She was also to receive 9 libre a year for incidentals. To a modern reader, the sons seem to have been unpleasantly careful about defining the limits of their obligations to their mother.27 But in fact, she was well provided for: 9 libre a year was a decent allowance. Often, there was a disparity between a widow's legal dependence and her actual powerful role within her family, again, her place within the cognatic kindred. A woman legally possessing only the right to the use of a bedroom and to food and clothing might in practice run the estate and rule the roost. In the Amidei will of 1253, although the widow was made neither a guardian nor an executor, a clause specified that the tutores could buy or sell nothing on behalf of the minor son without her consent, provided that she remained in the household with her son and did not seek the return of her dowry.28 Nevertheless, the widow's interests were in competition with those of the lineage: resources returned to her or used for her support were taken away from the patrilineage. From this point of view, the tendency by the 1290s for magnates to name as guardians not their kinsmen but their widows was a real victory for the widow at the expense of the lineage. At least while her sons were minors, she legally controlled the property. Neri Strinati's mentions of madonna Ciaberonta are a reminder of the 26 C. Klapisch-Zuber, "The 'Cruel Mother': Maternity, Widowhood and Dowry in Flor­ ence in the Fourteenth and Fifteenth Centuries," in Women, Family and Ritual. 27 Notarile 1104,140' (1290). 28 Diplomatico, Cestello, 16 giugno 1253.

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significant roles an older woman could play. Probably, the Strinati were her natal family. She married messer Forese Sinibaldi; her daughter, ma­ donna Contessa, married Messerino de' Caponsacchi, and ultimately sold a "gran casa" or palace that had belonged to her mother and adjoined Strinati property to members of the lineage for 2,500 libre. When Neri sought information about the lineage, madonna Ciaberonta was his best source, until her death at the age of 115.29 Ciaberonta thus had command both of important property and of family memory. The lack of permanent rights beyond the dowry could at times leave women without adequate support. Umiliana was in fact dependent on the charity of her family. The best evidence more generally is that a number of men carefully provided in their wills for the support of their unmarried female relatives, if needed. Of course, when husbands stipulated that their wives were to receive support, they may have been trying to encourage their widows to remain in the household and leave the dowry at their sons' disposal. However, brothers also left provisions for their sisters, and fathers for their daughters. Sometimes men provided for more distant kinswomen. Typically, these clauses simply gave the women the right of residence and alimenta.30 Lapo degli Adimari specified in his will of 1298 that his wife was to have her residence with their son, both in a house in town and in a podere in the countryside, with food and clothing and alimenta, as long as she chose to accept, remained a widow, and—the critical point—did not seek the return of her dowry. The son was explicitly re­ quired to return her dowry whenever she requested it. Lapo went on to leave his four sisters and two daughters residence in the house and the farm, "and food and clothing and full support honorably and decently . . . whenever it happens that one or both of them become or remain wid­ ows, or before if necessary."31 In another will, a sister if widowed was given the rents and use of three farms, but there were strings attached. During the time she accepted, she was to have three masses sung daily for the benefit of her brother's soul.32 These clauses show that women were potentially vulnerable. If wid­ owed, they might be left without comfortable provision. If neither the natal nor the marital family provided for the widow, her dowry alone might be inadequate to allow her a comfortable, independent existence. 29 Strinati,

"Cronichetta," esp. pp. 98, 117, 120. Soldanieri will is Diplomatic*), Santo Spirito, 24 dicembre 1299. 31 "[E]t victum et vestitum et omnia alimenta honorifice et decenter accipienda et percipienda . . . quandocumque eas vel alteram earum viduam contingent remanere seu esse et ante in quolibet casu necessitatis." Diplomatico, Strozziane-Uggucione, 11 settembre 1298. 32 The will of "Schaglia filius quondam Cionis de Tisis" contains this provision: Diplo­ matico, Carmine di Firenze, 20 aprile 1299. 30 The

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At times, heirs failed to repay a dowry altogether. And as Lapo implied, a woman might also get into difficulties with her husband and marital family, and although married still need independent support.33 Clauses requiring an estate to provide for sisters and daughters imply that the natal family did not always honor the tornata and take a woman back. The obligation to support her had to be spelled out. Interestingly, in this period when women could be left vulnerable by the family, they were protected by the commune. A woman's right to her dowry was protected by law, and given precedence over the rights of the actual heirs. These claims did come into conflict: the notaries record a number of disputes between widows and their sons over dowries. A woman in this situation would often be aided by her father or brothers, not only from affectionate concern and the need to right an injustice to a kinswoman, but because she might otherwise have to rely on them for support. Without her dowry she would be unable to contribute and her chances of remarriage would be poor. Loss of status could also be a con­ cern. The number of references to disputes between widows and sons over the return of a dowry is startling. The explanation must lie in the diffi­ culty of separating a large chunk of capital from the patrimony. These disputes must have been more common in households without substantial assets: once the heirs gave up the dowry, they were left dispossessed.34 Further, a woman's father and brothers would naturally be more con­ cerned for her well-being than for that of her sons, who, after all, be­ longed to a different lineage. Thus a woman's natal family might urge a legal case that she herself found painful. Still, there were cases in which a 33 In an interesting dispute in a nonmagnate family, the husband and son opposed the wife and her daughter by a previous marriage over the possession of a house. The decision was made by private arbiters, the parish priest and a notary. An undivided half of the house was awarded to the daughter; the other half went to the husband as his wife's dowry. How­ ever, she had the right to live there, and the two men were expressly barred from making any kind of fight or disturbance in the house. It may be that the house had been left to the woman by her previous husband, in part in payment of her dowry and in part as a bequest to the daughter. One wonders whether the husband lived in the house as well. Diplomatico, Badia di Firenze 12 . . . #13. 34 For example, the widow of messer Uguccione Upichini de Sachettis went to the com­ munal courts to recover her dowry and counterdowry from his estate. The property was valued by agents of the court at 190 libre. The heirs did not appear in court, and the estate was awarded to the widow. Diplomatico, Strozziane-Uggucione, 30 marzo 1278. In another case, a widow represented by a male relative was awarded by the court a "house or palace" from her husband's brother and heir, in payment of her dowry and counterdowry, worth 650 libre: Diplomatico, Spedale di Bonifazio, 2 marzo 1290/91. The widow of messer Gui­ neldo de Vicchio, a Kiermontese, sought in court the restitution of her dowry from the sons and heirs of messer Guineldo, and received their property: Diplomatico, Strozziane-Uggu­ cione, 14 febbraio 1268/9.

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woman pressed her own case against her sons. In 1280, the widow of messer Filippo de' Scolari, represented by two notaries, sought the return of her dowry of 200 libre and unpaid alimenta at 25 libre per year from six men, her five sons and a nepos, apparently her grandson. So far as one can tell, she was pursuing the case herself, with the consent of her guard­ ian Gozolino, the son of Ricco, who was probably a kinsman.35 Perhaps the best way to understand this patrilineal emphasis is to see how it could strain ties within the immediate family. Mother and sons could become adversaries because of their competing economic interests; the lineage might also pit father against daughter. As Umiliana exclaimed, there was no trustworthiness on earth when a father lied to his daughter and a daughter to her father. An anonymous thirteenth-century Floren­ tine poet wrote verses in which a young woman expresses grief because her father has made her miserable through his choice of a husband. We do not know whether the verses are autobiographical. Ca Io mio padre m'ha messa 'n errore, e tenemi sovente in forte doglia: donar mi vole a mia forza segnore, ed io di cio non ho disio ne voglia, e 'n gran tormento vivo tutte Tore; pero non mi ralegra fior ne foglia.36

In a second poem she decides that she does not wish to marry a man she does not know, and considers leaving the world to serve God, again blaming her father: Lo padre mio mi fa stare pensosa ca di servire a Cristo mi distorna: non saccio a cui mi vol dar per isposa.37

The impact of lineage values seems most concrete when it is understood as a force estranging father from daughter. There was one odd exception to this pattern of the exclusion of women by the Florentine magnate lineages. The della Tosa lineage derived its sur­ name from a woman and included a few women in rights that in other families belonged only to men. The lineage was a branch of the episcopal Visdomini. In the early twelfth century, a Visdomini, Davizo the son of 35 NotariIe

1104 39». father has put me in the wrong / and keeps me suffering in great grief / he wants to give me by force to a signore / and I have no choice or wish in this / and remain all the time in great torment / so that neither flowers nor leaves gladden me." 37 "My father has made me pensive / for he sways me from the service of Christ: /1 do not know to whom he wishes to give me as a bride." / Poeti del Duecento, ed. G. Contini, vol. 1, pp. 433-37. 36 "My

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Guido, married Tosa the daughter of Melliorello. Their son was called Melliorello della Tosa, and the matronymic became the family surname. Descent was still traced through the male line, which was particularly important in this case because of their ecclesiastical rights. Tosa appar­ ently played some role in the administration of church property, even dur­ ing her husband's lifetime. A text of 1127 reveals her receiving a donation on behalf of Santa Maria Maggiore.38 Typically, rights to revenues from ecclesiastical patronage were inher­ ited by sons as part of a family's patrimony. However, the 1277 record of the division of a large loan from the episcopal estates by the Visdomini and della Tosa lists two female heirs. Madonna Monnaccia, wife of Pazzino de Pazzis and madonna Biancia, wife of messer Gherardo Buondelmonti, "daughters and heirs" of messer Cianpi de la Tosa Visdomini, had together received a total of 1,293 libre from the bishopric.39 Apparently the two women were their father's heirs. Finally, there is an intriguing reference that may imply that some della Tosa women had rights over San Lorenzo. The accounts of the chapter for the first of May 1306 list expenditures for a "dinner of the accursed ladies of the Tosinghis." The foods are listed and the dinner was lavish, costing over 8 libre. Why San Lorenzo served the Tosinghi women dinner on May Day is unclear, but the right to a meal was an important aspect of ecclesiastical patronage rights.40 Thus the della Tosa may have broken with custom and passed patronage rights through the female line. Perhaps the most telling thing about these references is their oddity: if the della Tosa women inherited patronage rights, they were certainly exceptional. The patrilineal emphasis could work indirectly to the advantage of women. Status competition led to larger and larger dowries, ironically placing considerable wealth in female hands. Further, factional politics may sometimes have strengthened the economic role of women. Susan­ nah Foster, studying the Alberti in the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries, found that during periods of political exile women carried on aspects of the lineage business.41 Neri Strinati's Cronichetta suggests that this may have been true at the end of the thirteenth century as well: he mentions confiding business to an aunt during his exile in Padua.42 Also, lineage concerns were not always paramount. The concerns and 38

Le carte della canonica della cattedrale di Firenze, ed. R. Piattoli, p. 173. Diplomatico, Strozziane-Uggucione, 29 maggio 1277. 40 See I. del Lungo, La donna fiorentina del buon tempo antico (2nd ed.; Florence, 1926),

39

p. 62. 41 S. Foster, "A Practical Approach to Exile: The Alberti Family In and Out of Florence, 1387—1428," paper delivered at the New College Conference on Medieval and Renaissance Studies, March 1986. 42 "Cronichetta," p. 124.

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influence of women were central within their kindreds. For example, it would be implausible to suggest that marriages were arranged by fathers and not by mothers, though mothers show up in marriage contracts only when the father is not living. More significantly, by the last decades of the century men turned for help to their wives and sisters rather than to their kinsmen, most dramatically when they chose the executors of their estates and guardians of their children.43 In part, this was an effort to encourage widows not to reclaim their dowries from the estate. Perhaps women as lineage outsiders were also less apt to sacrifice the interests of husband or children to those of the lineage. A man who left a large sum to be given to the poor on behalf of his soul had more confidence that his bequest would be carried out if it was entrusted to his sisters. Finally, by the last decade of the century, there is considerable evidence of women with in­ dependent resources and of women who found alternatives to reliance on the family or entry into a convent. Women obtained independent resources from each other. I have seen no evidence of thirteenth-century magnate women who were left outright bequests by their fathers or grandfathers, though this did take place at lower social levels, where lineage ties in general had less importance.44 However, women received larger dowries in the last decades of the cen­ tury, and they customarily left each other bequests. This might take the form of an addition to a girl's dowry, an action which, as Stanley Chojnacki pointed out in discussing the Venetians, enhanced the girl's status and thus served the whole lineage.45 Often, however, women left each other sums that were not additions to their dowries but outright gifts. They also sometimes left them to women outside their lineages. The 1299 will of madonna Berta, the widow of Ubaldino degli Agolanti, is a good example. Her heir was her son Lapo. However, another son, Giovanni, got 25 libre, two daughters received 12 libre, and a third received 15. A grandson by another daughter received 12; two other grandsons through the male line each got 10. Giovanni and one of the daughters, Bicia, received her linens. Bicia was also given lifetime use of a piece of land, which was to revert to the heir after her death. All the daughters had the right to reside in one of her houses. The will also in­ cludes a long list of charitable bequests, including bequests to her servants and 100 libre to religious houses. It is remarkable that Berta had so much 43 Eleanor

Riemer, p. 114, found a similar pattern in Siena. 1269 the nonmagnate Guisa, son of Salvi Aligheri, made his daughter Gemma his heir, with his brother acting as guardian and substitute heir in the event of her death. There is an estate inventory, which includes household goods and half of a series of debts, but no land. Diplomatico, Santa Maria Novella, 7 maggio 1269. 45 Chojnacki, "Dowries and Kinsmen," p. 580. For a comparison of the bequests of women and men, and married and widowed women, see Riemer, pp. 139 and 155. 44 In

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wealth at her disposal, including agricultural property and two houses. Clearly, she did not follow the masculine custom of proportional equal­ ity, but preferred some children over others. Why Lapo and not Giovanni was made the heir is unclear; the extra bequests to Bicia could be favor­ itism or may indicate this daughter's greater need of support. At least some of the bequests were clearly affectionate.46 Women sometimes preferred female heirs. Madonna Tedora, the widow of messer Truffecto de'Pazzi, made her daughter Bella her heir and executor. Again, the will contains a number of charitable bequests, in­ cluding 10 libre to Sister Angela de Donati in the convent at Ripoli, 100 libre for Christ's poor and holy places, and 50 libre for the recovery of the Holy Land.47 Madonna Ermillina, the widow of messer Tedaldo de'Malispini, left her dowry of 600 florins divided among her husband's heirs, her three daughters, a number of individual women from both her natal and marital families, a pauper in prison, and Christ's poor.48 In effect, women at times had substantial resources and disposed of them in imaginative ways. Sometimes the property was clearly the dowry, but not always. Women, widows, and at times married women also man­ aged property and made investments. Women show up in the notarial texts buying and selling property, establishing rental contracts, and bor­ rowing and lending money.49 A series of legal records depict the interdependence of two Florentine women, a mother and daughter. These were madonna Ghisola, the widow of an Amidei nobleman, and her daughter Duccia. Ghisola's hus­ band died in 1253, leaving a minor son and two daughters. The son died without issue by 1271. In that year, Duccia's husband went to court to seek payment of her dowry of 300 Pisan libre from the estate, now held by her mother. The mother failed to appear in court, the father's will was read, setting the dowry not at 300 but at 200 Pisan libre, and the daughter 46 Notarile S 733 85'. For an early example of a woman leaving bequests to a variety of relatives, including her mother, see Diplomatico, Strozziane-Uggucione, 8 febbraio 1228/9. This is the payment of the bequest of madonna Iacopa, widow of Adimari Gianni Leti of the Amidei; they were paid by her six sons. 47 Diplomatico, Santo Spirito, 9 luglio 1296. 48 Notarile M 293 II 27r (17 maggio 1301). 49 For an early example of a married woman apparently buying a house on her own, see the purchase by the daughter of Cece Gherardini: Diplomatico, Santa Maria Novella, 22 marzo 1262/3. For a Donati widow with living sons renting out agricultural land: Diplo­ matico, Santa Maria Novella, 18 dicembre 1291; the repayment of the dowry is Santa Maria Novella, 24 dicembre 1295. For the sale of a farm by a Visdomini widow to a married woman, see Diplomatico, Sant' Ambrogio, 27 luglio 1264. See also the financial dealings of an Ubriachi widow: Sanctissima Annuziata, 24 novembre 1299,15 febbraio 1299/1300, 28 febbraio 1299/1300. For a study of the wealth of Sienese women, see Riemer's "Women, Dowries, and Capital Investment in Thirteenth-Century Siena," The Marriage Bargain, ed. Marion A. Kaplan (1985), pp. 59-79.

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was awarded property in that amount.50 The mother probably had not inherited the estate: the daughter's petition stated that her mother was the heir or, if not, that the heirs should step forward. Probably Ghisola had received a portion of the estate in repayment of her dowry.51 The same individuals were back in the courts in 1284, but this time the shoe was on the other foot. The mother, now a Franciscan tertiary, had sold her daughter and son-in-law a farm for 500 libre, establishing a pact providing that Ghisola would retain lifetime use of the farm and that part of the price would be donated by Duccia toward the next Crusade, on behalf of her mother's soul.52 Now, Ghisola realized that she had been "deceived in the price" and sought another 400 libre. She was awarded the money.53 In 1296, the daughter showed up in court a third time, this time seeking the repayment of her dowry from her husband's estate. The heirs, his children and his brother's children, failed to appear in court and she was awarded property.54 By 1296, then, both women had independent resources, and neither had an extended network of kin. Ghisola's natal family is never men­ tioned, and her marital family, the Amidei, probably inherited the bulk of the estate after the death of the son and then took no further interest. The daughter, Duccia, was at odds with her children, and of her natal family had only her mother. This litigious mother and daughter did achieve an uneasy system of mutual reliance. In 1299, Ghisola, by now probably in her seventies, wrote a codicil to her will stipulating a number of pious bequests and her choice of burial at Santa Croce. Her daughter formally agreed to carry out the terms of the will and to provide the old lady with alimenta; Ghisola in return agreed to seek nothing further from her daughter.55 Ghisola and her daughter Duccia offer a nice example of the impor­ tance of the female network of support and inheritance, even in an at­ mosphere of mutual distrust. Neither could look for aid to a larger kin 50 The father was "Dominus Jovanuczus filius quondam Gianni Amidei." His will is Diplomatico, Cestello, 16 giugno 1253, which is discussed in chap. 3. The second daughter is mentioned in the will as engaged to marry an apothecary, and does not appear in later documents. This branch of the Amidei may have broken off: when the Amidei were exiled with the Ghibellines, the young man—Ghisola's son and Duccia's brother—was excluded by name from the condemnation. See "Libro del Chiodo," Ildefonso di San Luigi, Delizie, vol. 8, p. 242. 51 The will named as substitute heirs in case of the son's death three distant kinsmen. Since the bulk of the estate apparently did not go to Ghisola, probably they received it. 52 See Paolo Pirillo, "La Terrasanta nei testamenti fiorentini del Dugento," in Toscana e Terrasanta nel Medioevo, ed. F. Cardini (Florence, 1982), pp. 57—73. 53 Cestello, 21 febbraio 1283/4. 54 Cestello, 4 settembre 1296. 55 Cestello, 1 febbraio 1298/9.

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group, and they seem to have cooperated out of necessity. They also turned to the courts to protect their interests, placing their faith not in kinship and affection but in communal law. Ghisola had also turned to the Franciscan order. Many widows found in the third orders some alternative to reliance on the family.56 The at­ tachment to the mendicant orders gave them some measure of protection and respectability. Widowed tertiaries remained nevertheless morally sus­ pect: Boccaccio in the fourteenth-century misogynist comedy Il Corbaccio wrote a lurid description of a widow exploiting her independence as a tertiary to seduce young men in church.57 These suspicions aside, the third orders gave women a graceful and respectable way to escape reli­ ance on their children or their natal families. They also offered laywomen an active, public spiritual life. What are the implications of the customary status of women for an un­ derstanding of the magnates? The exclusion of women created powerful tensions within the family, as the dowry system pitted mother against sons, father against daughters. This tension is revealed by the men who added clauses to their wills, insisting that their widows and sisters not be left without decent support. These were men who recognized that their wives and sisters were potentially at risk. The exclusion of women was an integral part of the creation of a mas­ culine, highly militarized culture, a culture that bred violence and the ven­ detta. Women though marginal to the lineage were loaded with lineage values, carrying lineage status. Umiliana's repudiation of her lineage took the form of a refusal of precisely this role: she shredded and gave away her finery, refused—at least in her visions—to mourn her dead kinsmen. Because of their paradoxical roles, women were often placed at the center of the vendetta, as in the famed Buondelmonti feud of 1217. Thus the exclusion of women contributed to the instability and violence of the pe­ riod. By the end of the thirteenth century, however, the situations of magnate women were more ambiguous. Stronger civic institutions typically worked to the advantage of women. Their legal rights were protected by the courts; religious institutions offered them alternatives to dependence on the family. Further, and perhaps ironically, the large size of magnate dowries, which grew out of lineage concerns, made widows financially 56 For an example of two sisters, "sorores de penitentia," who shared a house near the Dominican convent of Santa Maria Novella, and who gave the house to the order but re­ tained the right to live there: Diplomatico, Santa Maria Novella, 24 febbraio 1286/7. For the protection of tertiaries by the commune, Santa Croce di Firenze, 22 luglio 1277. 57 She also steals property entrusted to her for her children. Boccaccio, Il Gorbaccio, trans, and ed. A. Cassell (Urbana, 111., 1975), pp. 58—59.

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independent. They in turn left their money as they chose, creating a dis­ tinct female network of inheritance. A daughter might receive not only a dowry but a substantial inheritance from her mother. By the end of the thirteenth century, when some individuals found the lineage confining and sought alternatives, they turned to women. In some circumstances, families began to drop the most stringent patrilineal prac­ tices and to act instead on cognatic principles. Some men named their wives and sisters rather than kinsmen as guardians for their children. This was only a slight moderation, as the rich scholarship on women in the fourteenth and fifteenth century reveals. Still, these changes worked to the advantage of women. This social and familial change was mirrored in new cultural forms. When individuals sought to move beyond the narrow world of lineage and faction, they often turned to idealized images of women. The new models of piety that became most popular and influential were distinc­ tively feminine, depicting women like Umiliana who broke away from family and lineage. Finally, as we shall see in chapter 11, the poets of the dolce stil novo sought inspiration from idealized feminine images. Ironi­ cally, then, by the end of the thirteenth century, women as lineage outsid­ ers became a new source of cultural and religious inspiration.

PART THREE THE MAGNATES

KNIGHTHOOD AND COURTLY STYLE

F

ROM 1281, THE Florentine government imposed a series of stat­ utes intended to stabilize the city and put an end to violence and civil war. The laws were based on the conviction that civic unrest was the fault of a distinct group of lineages, termed the "potentes, nobiles vel magnates": the powerful, nobles or magnates. The statutes required the magnates to post security against the possibility that they might com­ mit crimes, and gradually restricted their access to public office. This ef­ fort begged a difficult social and political question: who precisely were the magnates? What criteria defined the group to be restricted under the statutes? Modern interpretation of the conflict between magnate and popolo has emphasized the analysis of these groups as social classes, defined by their material interests. Did the magnates represent landed interests, chal­ lenged by the new banking and commercial powers represented by the popolo? That debate has not yielded a convincing articulation of the dif­ ferences between these social groups. It is clear that magnate and popolo were not two social classes, motivated by diverse material interests. The medieval Florentine patriciate, both magnate and popolo, enjoyed a com­ plex mixture of financial ties and associations, combining interests in banking or merchant enterprise with both urban and rural rents. They represent not two opposed groups but a spectrum ranging from houses entirely reliant on rents from agriculture to houses purely urban and com­ mercial in their interests. This failure of class analysis to illuminate the conflict between magnate and popolo reflects the larger problem of the applicability of the concept of class to precapitalist societies, and in particular to societies structured by kinship. In tribal societies, groups did stand in different relations to the means of production, the basic definition of class, but those groups were often defined by age or gender.1 Thirteenth-century Florence despite 1 Giovanni Tabacco despite these problems still argues that the conflict between magnate and popolo was class-based. See The Struggle for Power, esp. chap. 5, part 4, and chap. 6. For a brief and useful synopsis of discussions of class from the Marxist perspective, see Maurice Bloch, Marxism and Anthropology: The History of a Relationship (Oxford, 1983), esp. pp. 157—68. See also E. Terray, "Class and Class Consciousness in an Abron Kingdom of Gyaman," Marxist Analyses and Social Anthropology, ed. M. Bloch (London, 1975); and M. Godelier, Perspectives in Marxist Anthropology (Cambridge, 1977).

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8

its sophisticated economy in some ways resembled a tribal society. And, as some anthropologists have argued more generally, material interests were not always the fundamental concern. Other competing motives in­ cluded religion, kinship, or politics.2 Scholars of premodern France have turned away from the modern so­ cial category of class in favor of medieval hierarchical ideas: the view that society is made up of orders, defined by vocation. Georges Duby has ar­ gued that by the thirteenth century the idea of a Afunctional society of orders had become the dominant view, and served as ideological support for the French monarchy.3 Society was composed of three functional or­ ders: those who work, those who pray, and those who fight. The prerog­ atives enjoyed by the nobles thus were justified because the nobles had a special function as the defenders of society. The idea of hierarchical orders does not easily apply to the rapidly mo­ bile society of medieval Florence. The magnates were not by any stretch of the imagination a distinct vocational group. Further, medieval Floren­ tines did not use the language of the society of orders, finding instead that Aristotelian political ideas and categories better expressed their experi­ ence. Still, it may be that the idea of the link between social function and social justification was implicit in the statutes. The purpose of the laws after all was not to support noble privilege but rather to justify special restrictions and penalties imposed on the nobles. If nobles do not serve as society's defenders, then their power and privileges are illegitimate, and can be taken away. In sum, the magnates were not described by contem­ poraries as a distinct social order, though the ideology of the society of orders could have supported the priors' efforts to restrict them. What then did separate magnate from popolo? If medieval Florentines did not take up the idea of a society of orders, then how did they analyze this social conflict? The best approach is to set aside external categories like class or order and reconstruct the contemporary definition of the magnates. Florentine lawmakers in the 1280s and 1290s after all were faced with exactly this problem: they apparently assumed the existence of a special class of magnates and then struggled to articulate its defini­ tion. Their efforts offer us the opportunity to explore social categories 2 Marshall

Sahlins, Culture and Practical Reason (Chicago and London, 1976), esp. chap. 3, is an influential critique of historical materialism. See also Louis Dumont, From Mandeville to Marx (Chicago, 1977). 3 See Georges Duby, The Three Orders: Feudal Society Imagined, trans. A. Goldhammer (Chicago and London: 1980). The only thirteenth-century Italian text 1 have seen that comes close to this view is the allegory on the game of chess of Jacobus de Cessolis, which does not use the term ordo but does describe nobles as performing a special social function. See the edition by Marie Anita Burt, "Jacobus de Cessolis: Libellus de Moribus Hominum et Officiis Nobilium ac Popularium Super Ludo Schachorum," Ph.D. diss., University of Texas, 1957, esp. book 3, chap. 4.

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defined in thirteenth-century Florentine terms, to analyze, as Gabrielle Spiegel has recently urged, the "situated use of language."4 The under­ standing of the magnates that emerges is of course not a theoretical con­ struct, like class or order. The definition in the statutes was shaped by a number of factors, including the immediate historical circumstances, the influence of comparable laws in Siena and Bologna, and the political mo­ tives and historical memories of the lawmakers. However, that is only appropriate, as the social category of magnate was itself the product of these factors. Initially, the laws probably simply listed the surnames of the magnates. This was soon found inadequate, as a provision of 1281 required that civic officials be given a means of determining who was magnate. The laws of October 1286 did include a definition, though the text does not survive from that year.5 Gaetano Salvemini reconstructed the definition, probably dating from 1286 and certainly from shortly thereafter. Three criteria appear: the powerful, nobles or magnates, were those houses which popular opinion held to be magnate, those which already posted security as magnates, and those which contained a knight or had con­ tained a knight within the last twenty years.6 In effect, magnate status was defined by knighthood and by a past record of violence, implied by their posting security. Magnate status was also determined by pubblica fama: everyone knew who they were, although their attributes were not easy to articulate. Knighthood thus was central to the definition, the single characteristic 4 Spiegel, "History, Historicism and the Social Logic of the Text in the Middle Ages," p. 77. The phrase is borrowed from Dominick LaCapra, "Rethinking Intellectual History and Reading Texts," in Modem European Intellectual History: Reappraisals and New Perspec­ tives, ed. D. LaCapra and S. Kaplan (Ithaca, N.Y., 1982), p. 49. As Spiegel points out, LaCapra uses the phrase differently, emphasizing the inaccessibility of the past except through a "mediated, textualized form." 5 For the 1281 statute, see Le Consulte delta repubblica fiorentina, ed. A. Gherardi (Flor­ ence, 1896-1898), vol. 1, p. 33; Ottokar, pp. 104—5. The criterion of posting security was mentioned in 1285 councils attempting a reform of the estimi: "intelligatur magnates illi qui satisdant apud Comune pro Magnatibus; intelligantur magne domus ille qui satisdant pro casatibus." Consulte, vol. 1, pp. 180, 189, quoted by Salvemini, Magnati popolani, p. 117. 6 Salvemini reconstructed the 1286 definition: "Item, ut de Potentibus vel Magnatibus de cetero dubietas non oriatur, illi intelligantur potentes, nobiles vel magnates, et pro potentibus, nobilibus vel magnatibus habeantur, in quorum domibus vel casato miles est vel fuit a xx annis citra, vel quos opinio vulgo appellat et tenet vulgariter potentes nobiles vel mag­ nates," p. 118. He based this on five sources: the Ordinances of Justice (Appendice, xn, rubric 17); a legal counsel given by Dino Mugello that quoted the statute (Appendice, x); a marginal note from the 1322—1325 statutes (Salvemini, "Gli statuti fiorentini del Capitano e Podesta del 1322-25," Archivio storico italiano 5, no. 18 (p. 20); the Statuti del Podesta del 1355, IV, 12; and the Statuto del 1408 (see Dino Compagni, Cronica, ed. I. Del Lungo, p. 49n.).

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that defined the group. If a house had contained a knight in the past twenty years, it was considered magnate. This defining characteristic was reiterated in the later laws and emphasized in the 1293 Ordinances of Justice, by which knights were made ineligible for the office of prior. The implication is that the military was central to the culture of the medieval Florentine nobles. Like the landed nobility to the north, the magnates were in some ways considered a military class: nobility was equated with knighthood. In northern France, the identification of nobility with knighthood had a clear purpose, as part of an ideology that justified the social order. No­ ble power and prerogatives resulted from their special role as the defend­ ers of society. This idea of a noble vocation developed only gradually. In the early Middle Ages, knighthood, as indicated by the title miles, was restricted to a ministerial class. Then, it slowly spread upwards: by 1300 kings, dukes, and counts were also knights. As Duby has argued, this represented a shift in the social justification of the nobility, a movement from an older view of the nobility as a sacred race, noble by birth and blood, to a new definition as a group sharing the military vocation, noble knights serving as society's defenders.7 What was the meaning of knighthood in the urban, commercial world of thirteenth-century Florence, and why was it linked to magnate status? Only a handful of the magnate families held old titles, titles derived from the rural nobility. Most were of recent origins and had gained their power and status within the city. By the 1290s, to identify them with knighthood seems an anachronism. Why did men like members of the Bardi lineage, whose financial resources and connections gave them vast power and in­ fluence, bother with knighthood? Was it merely honorific, a matter of sham titles, and, if so, why was knighthood integral to their definition as magnates in the statutes? What were the implications of the title of knight in the thirteenth-century city?

Knighthood and Military Service Gaetano Salvemini in his remarkable laureate thesis on Florentine knight­ hood saw a clear pattern: in the twelfth century, the Florentine nobles, 7 The relationship between nobility and the military vocation has been a central problem in medieval social history. The equation of knighthood with the nobility was argued by Marc Bloch in "Sur Ie passe de la noblesse fran?aise: quelque jalons de recherche," Annales E.S.C. 8 (1936); and Feudal Society, trans. L. A. Manyon (Chicago, 1961), vol. 2, esp. chap. 24. For a recent reexamination, see C. Bouchard, "The Origins of the French Nobility: A Reassessment," American Historical Review 86, no. 3 (June 1981): 501—32. On the upward spread of knighthood, see the essays of Georges Duby collected in The Chivalrous Society, trans. C. Postan (Berkeley, 1977).

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whose rank and privileges were a matter of birth, also adopted the knightly title and military practices. In the thirteenth century, Salvemini argued, the character of this urban knighthood changed as the commune began to bestow the title on men of lower social origins.8 Giovanni Tabacco, focusing on Bologna, found that this model may have been true for the countryside, but that a closer relationship between knighthood and nobility existed in the twelfth-century city. Tabacco sug­ gests that "a noble was nothing other than a knight of knightly ancestry, a knight not necessarily in the sense of a man decorated with the formal dignity of knighthood, but rather of a man fighting on horseback with full armament, in a family tradition of political and military involvement which could be used by the city."9 Status derived not from birth but from the military role: a family held the privileges of nobility because of their knightly tradition. It was only by the mid-thirteenth century that a dis­ tinction between nobility and knighthood emerged, as a result of changes in the communal militia. Salvemini's model probably holds for the older, landed Florentine no­ bles, families who held titles ultimately derived from the monarch. These were nobles by birth who later adopted knighthood as well. However, as Tabacco showed, urban nobility was based on wealth and military power in the commune. Rising families after all could acquire nobility and knighthood. The north Italian cities had long been creating their own knights. The first unquestionable Florentine reference to this type of knight, a miles pro comuni, is late, dating from 1233. However, the prac­ tice is thought to have begun a century earlier.10 Otto of Freising, the midtwelfth-century chronicler of Frederick Barbarossa, wrote a famous com­ ment: Also, that they may not lack the means of subduing their neighbors, [the north Italian communes] do not disdain to give the girdle of knighthood or the grades of distinction to young men of inferior station and even some workers of the vile mechanical arts, whom other people bar like the pest from the more respected and honorable pursuits.11 8 This is still the best source for Florentine knighthood: G. Salvemini, La dignita cavalleresca nel comune di Firenze (Florence, 1896; reissued Milan, 1972). A recent study of the rise of knighthood is F. Cardini, Alle radici della cavalleria medievale; see also the review by J. Flori, "Le origini dell'ideologia cavalleresca," Archivio storico italiano 143, no. 523 (1985): 3-13. 9 Tabacco, "Nobili e cavalieri," p. 43. 10 The reference to a "miles pro comuni" is printed in Documenti, ed. P. Santini, n, p. 405. 11 "Ut etiam ad comprimendos vicinos materia non careant, [i comuni] inferioris conditionis iuvenes, vel quoslibet contemptibilium mechanicarum artium opifices, quos ceterae gentes ab honestioribus studiis tamquam pestem propellunt, ad militiae cingulum vel dig-

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As a result, he goes on to tell us, these communes far surpass all other states in the world in riches and power. Otto seems to have been torn between aristocratic disdain for these ignoble knights and respect for their military success. Who were the knights in twelfth- and early thirteenth-century Flor­ ence? Unfortunately, the evidence is meager. The simplest view is that the knights were the men who fought on horseback in the communal militia, and belonged to the societas militum. Contemporary texts extended the term miles, which generally meant knight, to those who fought on horse: the Florentine army was described as made up of milites and pedites, knights and foot soldiers. It is doubtful, however, that knighthood and nobility were identical so that all the horsemen in the army were ipso facto considered nobles. Scholars have argued that knighthood was a per­ sonal honor, conferred in a ceremony, whereas nobility was an honor belonging to families, inherited through the blood.12 The famous example from Passignano in 1233 of a "noble knight" whose grandfather was a blacksmith reminds us of the messiness of these social categories in prac­ tice.13 Tabacco found a fascinating case, the Aretine Ughetto di Sarna, a man trained in the military and described as "sporting at arms with the other domicelli in the manner of nobles." After Ughetto's death, the rec­ lamation of his sons by the monastery of Santa Fiora e Lucilla in 1238 revealed his servile origins.14 The radical discrepancy between his legal status and his apparent vocation reminds us that this was not a world of rigid social definitions and boundaries.15 The military vocation did not automatically imply nobility. There also were noble knights who served not for the commune but for the Cross. The legend developed that Pazzino dei Pazzi led the Tuscans in nitatis gradum assumere non dedignantur." See Otto of Freising, Gesta Frederici I Imperatoris, ed. B. de Simson (Hanover and Leipzig, 1912), trans, by C. C. Mierow as The Deeds of Frederick Barbarossa (New York, 1953), book 2, chap. 13. Salvemini suggests that this tendency of the Italian communes to raise the unworthy to knighthood became a popular topic, and was even given an epic explanation in the thirteenth-century chivalric poem "L'Entree d'Espagne." See Salvemini, La dignita, p. 111. 12 For a recent discussion, see Franco Cardini, " 'Nobilta' e cavalleria nei centri urbani: Problemi e interpretazioni," Nobilta e ceti dirigenti in Toscana nei secoli XI—XIII: strutture e concetti (Florence, 1982), pp. 13—28. 13 See Documenti, ed. Santini, ill, n. xxx, pp. 402—6; Plesner, pp. 74—76. 14 The quotation reads: "more nobilium ludendo cum armis cum aliis domicellis." Do­ micelli were young men training for knighthood, an honor presumably barred to Ughetto because of his servile condition. Ughetto recalls the German tradition of ministeriales, unfree knights. G. Tabacco, "Nobilta e potere ad Arezzo in eta medievale," Studi medievali 3, no. 15 (1974): 1-24. 15 On the twelfth-century institution of scutiferi, peasant vassals who performed military service on horseback in support of knights, see Fra^ois Menant, "Les ecuyers ('scutiferi'), vassaux paysans d'ltalie du nord au Xiie siecle," in Structures feodales, 285—97.

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the First Crusade at the end of the eleventh century, and was the first man to scale the walls of Jerusalem, although, as historians have uncharitably pointed out, none of the actual chroniclers of the Crusade mention him. He returned with three fragments of the Holy Sepulcher and was greeted by the Florentines with a great triumphal procession.16 Several chroni­ clers report great enthusiasm in Florence for the Crusades, and that a large number of men took up the Cross in 1188, an assertion which again is not borne out by actual accounts of the Crusade.17 Nevertheless, some Florentine knights did serve in the Holy Land. By 1260, when Florentine knighthood is better documented, there was a clear division between knighthood as a matter of service in the militia, and knighthood as a matter of nobility involving legal privilege and courtly style. The Florentines required military service, and paid wages to participating citizens. The makeup of the militia is known in detail from the 1260 Libro di Montaperti, the captured records of the army defeated by the combined force of the Sienese and the exiled Florentine Ghibellines.18 At that time, communal officials ad equos inponendos (literally "for the imposition of horses") selected citizens who were paid to provide horses and riders, for the cavalry. The obligation was inheritable, and based on reaching a particular level in the taxation of the household's patrimony. The army fielded at Montaperti was a large one. Daniel Waley has estimated that the cavalry numbered 1,648,100 of them foreign mer­ cenaries, out of a total force of 16,100.19 The record of the cavalry of one sesto, San Pancrazio, survives. It in­ cludes a list of the people providing mounts and riders, a list of those providing horses alone, and the excuses—documented by witnesses—of those unable to serve. Although anyone suitable could be provided as a rider, remarkably enough the vast majority of citizens who put up a horse and a man actually rode their own animals into battle. All but sixteen of the 127 horses in this category were ridden by the owner or his close kin. The text sometimes suggests a man's profession, and although quite a number were titled—which might or might not indicate knighthood— horses were also provided by several "magistri," as well as by a judge, a 16

F. Perrens, Histoire de Florence (Paris, 1883), vol. 1, p. 111. See S. Raveggi, "Storia di una leggenda: Pazzo dei Pazzi e Ie pietre del Santo Sepolcro," in Toscana e Terrasanta nel Medioevo, ed. F. Cardini (Florence, 1982). 17 Villani, Cronica, book 5, chap. 13; see Salvemini, La dignita, p. 117. 18 Π Libro di Montaperti, ed. C. Paoli (Florence, 1889). 19 D. Waley, "The Army of the Florentine Republic from the Twelfth to the Fourteenth Century," in Florentine Studies, ed. N. Rubinstein (London, 1968), pp. 76—79. See also C. C. Bayley,War and Society in Renaissance Florence: The "De Militia" of Leonardo Bruni (Toronto, 1961), pp. 3-15.

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notary, and even a man identified as a barber.20 Despite the fact that they were termed milites, which is usually translated as "knights," most of these men are better understood as simple cavalrymen. A statute of 1251 from Viterbo supports this conclusion: it distinguishes between milites de granditia and milites de populo.21 Clearly, not everyone who fought on horseback in 1260 was marked by "granditia." Salvemini argued that this army was exceptional, the result of the de­ mocratization of the Primo Popolo. In the twelfth and early thirteenth centuries, he claimed, all mounted warriors had been knights. It may be that because the army of 1260 was fielded by the Primo Popolo, it con­ tained fewer nobles than usual, although it did include Guelf nobles who were enemies of the exiled Ghibellines. However, there is one piece of evidence suggesting that the organization of this army was simply a con­ tinuation of the earlier system. A large number of the horses in the 1260 cavalry from San Pancrazio were provided by co-heirs. Waley found that of the 185 animals listed, 116 were owned jointly: "24 were owned by brothers; 16 by a father together with a son or sons; 13 by brothers with other heirs; and all the others by other combinations of relations or co­ heirs."22 The implication is that these men inherited the duty; their large numbers suggest that it had been imposed more than ten years before, thus antedating the Primo Popolo. A striking feature of the 1260 cavalry records is how many wealthy individuals who were not noble knights were still prepared to ride into battle. Given the pay, it could not have been difficult to find a substitute rider. This suggests that riding in the militia in 1260 was a matter of honor and prestige. It also took courage: losses in one of these battles might well be heavy, as they were at Montaperti. The merchants of midthirteenth-century Florence were not just military in style: they were will­ ing to die. Support for the cavalry continued to be a personal obligation through the end of the century. From 1265-66 onward, the Ghibelline period, the commune imposed on some citizens the cavallata, an obligation to pro­ vide a horse and either to ride it oneself or pay a suitable rider.23 The imposition was based on a man's economic position, military status, and political loyalties. In the 1290s, only Guelfs were riders, but efforts were made to spread the financial burden to Ghibelline houses as well. The 20 The records of the cavalry from San Pancrazio are in the Libro di Montaperti, pp. 291— 308. 21 R. Davidsohn, Storia vol. 2, p. 319. 22 Waley, "Army," p. 75n. As he points out, a similar system was adopted by Siena in the 1250s. 23 On the cavallata, see B. Barbadoro, Le finanze della repubblica fiorentina (Florence, 1929), vol. 1, pp. 319-41.

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cavallata tended over time to become a purely fiscal exaction, used to pay mercenary troops. In 1302 men subject to the cavallata still actually kept horses and paid their riders themselves. In that year Vermiglio Alfani at­ tempted to prove his "Guelfismo" by demonstrating that he had sup­ ported a cavalry horse.24 Chroniclers' accounts of the Florentine defeat of Arezzo at the Battle of Campaldino show that at least through 1289 Florentine nobles not only provided horses but rode them themselves; the story also reveals both the organization and the butchery of thirteenth-century battle. In preparation for the combat, the Florentine government asked Charles II of Anj ou, the Guelf leader then passing through Florence, to give them a military captain and a royal standard. Charles obliged with "his baron and gentleman, messer Amerigo of Narbonne, who was young and fine looking, but not well tested in arms."2S Happily, Amerigo's tutor was an experienced knight and accompanied him, as did other knights "tried and expert in war." The Florentine army also included allies from Bologna and Lucca. Six hundred horsemen from Pistoia were led by their podesta, the Florentine nobleman Corso Donati; several other captains were rela­ tives of Florentine nobles. The feditori, or picked cavalry, were led by the banker Vieri de Cerchi, despite an injured leg. Vieri selected for the fedi­ tori from his own sesto his son and other kinsmen, and was much praised for the action: "through his good example and through pride many other noble citizens placed themselves among the feditori."26 Service in the fe­ ditori was particularly dangerous because they were the troops most ex­ posed to the enemy. Dante also fought in the feditori at Campaldino. In 1289, as in 1260, Florentine nobles and merchants risked their lives. When the captains set up the battle array at Campaldino, the feditori were placed in front of the main body of troops. The Aretine assault was initially so fierce that many of the feditori were unhorsed, and the main body of the Florentines fell back a bit. Dino Compagni evoked the brutal sights and smells of the fighting: "The sky was covered with clouds; the dust was tremendous. The Aretine foot soldiers took knives in hand, threw themselves on all fours under the bellies of the horses and disem­ bowelled them. And some of their feditori advanced so far that in the 24 The text is Diplomatico, 28 aprile 1302; for the heirs of messer Consiglio dei Cerchi, paying an equitator for riding an animal in fulfillment of his obligation, see Diplomatico Canigiani-Cerchi, 23 gennaio 1302 and the attached text of 2 settembre 1304. On these texts, see Barbadoro, vol. 1, pp. 335-36. 25 "[S]uo barone e gentil uomo, giovane e bellisimo del corpo, ma non molto sperto in fatti di arme." Dino Compagni, Cronica, book 1, chap. 7; Bornstein trans., p. 10. 26 "E per suo buono esemplo e per vergogna molti altri nobili cittadini si misono tra' feditori." Villani, Cronica, book 7, chap. 131.

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midst of our ranks many were killed on both sides."27 Some men proved cowards and some won great praise that day, Compagni writes. Count Guido Novello departed without striking a blow, leaving the army's flank exposed. The Florentine Corso Donati, serving as podesta for Pistoia, ig­ nored orders to stand fast and chose to attack, making a brave speech: "If we are defeated, I want to die in battle with my fellow citizens; and if we win, who among us will trouble to return to Pistoia for the condem­ nation?"28 His charge was a major cause of the rout of the Aretines, VilIani writes. Vieri de Cerchi and his son also were commended by the chroniclers for their bravery. The defeated Aretines fled but were pursued and slaughtered by the Florentine mercenaries, and many Aretine pris­ oners were also butchered. Nobility, then, was not identified with a military role as protector of the commune. Florentine nobles did fight on horse but were joined by men who were distinctly not noble. Defense of the city was not a noble occupation and by no means a justification for status and privilege. There was nevertheless some sense that nobles were better at war, that war was their special function. Dino Compagni was critical of the unheroic service of the popolani at Campaldino. Many popolani who owed cavalry service "stayed put; many knew nothing until the enemy was routed."29 This af­ ter all was what one expected of popolani, and Compagni writes that when two priors attempted to join the army, they were criticized "because this was not their job, but that of gentlemen accustomed to warfare."30

Knighthood and Courtly Style How did noble knights set themselves apart from the barber and the other masters who also fought on horse in the militia? Noble knighthood was 27 "L'aria era coperta di nugoli, la polvere grandissima. I pedoni delle Aretini si mettevano carponi sotto i ventri de' cavagli colle coltella in mano, e sbudellavanli: e de' Ioro feditori trascorsono tanto, che nel mezzo della schiera furono morti molti di ciascuna parte." Compagni, Cronica, book 1, chap. 10; Bornstein trans., p. 12. 28 "[AJvea comandamento di stare fermo, e non fedire sotto pena della testa, quando vide cominciata la battaglia, disse come valente uomo: 'Se noi perdiamo, io voglio morire nella battaglia co'miei cittadini; e se noi vinciamo, chi vuole vegna a noi a Pistoia per la condannagione;' e francamente mosse sua schiera, e fedi i nemici per costa, e fu gran cagione della Ioro rotta." Villani, Cronica, book 7, chap. 131. 29 "Molti popolani di Firenze, che avevano cavallate, stettono fermi: molti niente seppono, se non quando i nemici furoni rotti." Compagni, Cronica, book 1, chap. 10; Bornstein trans., p. 13. 30 "[P]erche non era Ioro ufficio, ma di gentiluomini usi alia guerra." Compagni, Cronica, book 1, chap. 10; Bornstein trans., p. 13.

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marked by ceremony, probably by special gear, and by style.31 They en­ joyed elaborate and expensive dubbing ceremonies; one early mention is in the description of a feast in 1216 celebrating the dubbing of a Mazzinghi, where a scuffle ultimately led to a major feud. Nobles also prob­ ably had different equipment. When Villani noted that Florence in 1283 contained 300 knights and their followers, he termed them cavalieri di corredo, which seems to have meant fully equipped knights. They were probably distinguished by their heavy arms and armor and by their pos­ session of expensive war-horses to carry all this.32 Waley uncovered a series of contracts between the commune and mercenary commanders that detail the equipment of mercenary knights. The force of Amauri of Narbonne in 1290 was to include 450 knights and 170 squires, each knight with a "war horse, palfrey and rouncey." The squires were paid half as much as the knights and were not required to keep palfreys. An­ other contract, of 1277, specified the minimum armor: "each (cavalry­ man) was to have a good warhorse (worth at least 30 1.), full armor (cov­ ering neck, thigh and leg) as well as a helmet and shield, sword, lance and knife." This was the working gear of a mercenary knight; how closely it resembled the equipment of a well-to-do Florentine knight can only be conjectured.33 For prosperous Florentines, knighthood was not so much a vocation as a social model. Most Florentine knights were titled merchants or bankers, men who might have country estates but earned their living through com­ merce. Judging from the Libro di Montaperti and later battle accounts, these men were trained in the military and, at least until the last decades of the century, were willing to fight and die in the militia. However, they were not professional warriors. Knighthood was a combination of mili­ tary training and courtly and chivalric manners and style. The popularity of chivalric motifs is striking. The late twelfth and early thirteenth centuries saw the spread of chivalric literature and themes through the north of Italy. References to the "matter of Britain" and the "matter of France" became commonplaces. The Florentine chronicler 31 Tabacco, "Nobili e cavalieri," p. 44, offers evidence for this social distinction from the statutes of the popular regime established in Bologna, which raised the problem of distin­ guishing, among the milites fighting for the commune, between those who were noble and thus exempt from certain taxes and those who were not. 32 Villani, Cronica, book 7, chap. 89. For a late fourteenth-century discussion of four ways of making four types of knights, including cavalieri di corredo, see Franco Sachetti, Il Trecentonovelle, ed. E. Faccioli (Turin, 1970), Novella cliii, p. 422. We do have an inven­ tory from 1230 of the personal property of a Florentine knight killed while serving as a podesta for the town of Orvieto, and this includes a list of his armor, weapons, and two valuable war-horses as well as of luxurious clothing and effects. Codice diplomatico della cttta d'Orvieto, ed. L. Fumi (Florence, 1884), cxcv. 33 Waley, "Army," p. 86.

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Sanzanome, writing around 1231, described the Sienese as pathetically hoping to defeat Florence "like the Britons who are said still to expect King Arthur."34 St. Francis himself used a chivalric reference to introduce his followers: "These are my brothers, knights of the round table, who hide in remote and deserted places, so that they are free to attend more diligently to prayer and meditation."35 There was even a vogue for chivalric names. Olaf Bratto has exhaus­ tively studied the sources of the names listed in the 1260 Libro di Montaperti. These men served in what was the least aristocratic of medieval Florentine armies. Still, Bratto found a minimum of 205 men with literary names, four percent of the total. Of these, sixty-nine were Rolands.36 In an amusing Florentine tenzone, or verse dialogue, from the 1260s, Orlanduccio Orafo and Pallamidesse di Bellindote congratulated themselves on their heroic names; Pallamidesse was a noble pagan rival defeated by Tristan.37 Some knightly names were less exquisite: Count Guido, the adopted son of the Countess Matilda, actually chose the surname Guerra for himself.38 The symbolic language of heraldry also spread through Tuscany in this period, imported from the north.39 Probably these symbols served origi­ nally to identify heavily armored men in battle, then became associated with feudal and territorial rights. In Italy, the reference of coats of arms shifted and they became direct expressions of lineage identity: surnames and arms became two means of expressing the same phenomenon. Coats of arms were also literally status symbols. Malispini tells us that the fam34 On the Arthurian influence in Italy, see E. Gardner, The Arthurian Legend in Italian Literature (New York, 1971). The quote from Sanzanome reads "tamquam Brittoni qui regem adhuc expectare dicuntur Arturum": Sanzanomis Iudicis, "Gesta Florentinorum," Cronache dei secoli XIII e XIV, Documenti di storia italiana, vol. 6 (Florence, 1879); quoted by Gardner, p. 9. 35 "Isti sunt mei fratres, milites tabulae rotundae, qui latitant in remotis et in desertis locis, ut diligentius vacent orationi et meditationi." Intentio Regulae, Documenti Antiqua Franciscana, ed. L. Lemmems (Quaracchi, 1901), p. 90; quoted by Gardner, p. 10. 36 Olaf Bratto, Studi di anthroponomia fiorentina: Il Libro di Montaperti (Goteborgs, 1953), p. 28; "Nuovi studi di anthroponomia fiorentina" Goteborgs Universitets Arsskrift 61, no. 5 (1955). A. Castellani, "Nomi fiorentini del Dugento," Zeitschrift fur romanische Philologie 11 (1956): 54—87, is a commentary on Bratto with some corrections. For a brief recent survey, see Carlo Alberto Mastrelli, "Considerazioni sulle richerche di antroponomia medievale," Nobilta e cett dirigenti. . . strutture e concetti, pp. 56—64. 37 The tenzone is printed in Poeti del Duecento, ed. G. Contini (Milan and Naples, 1960), pp. 473-74. 38 His adoption and choice of the surname are mentioned by Davidsohn, Storia vol. 1, p. 421. 39 See Hannelore Zug Tucci, "Un linguaggio feudale: l'araldica," Storia d'ltalia, Annali 1 (Turin, 1978), pp. 811—78. On the uses of these images by the popolo, see R. Trexler, "Fol­ low the Flag," Bibliotheque d'humanisme et renaissance 46, no. 2 (1984): 357—92.

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ilies who received their arms and knighthood from Ugo the Tuscan mar­ grave retained his arms within their own coats of arms to mark the asso­ ciation. But as Zug Tucci has pointed out, since heraldry did not exist in Italy during the period, this was imaginary.40 In the thirteenth century the language of heraldry permeated Florentine society, marking the gonfaloni and the guilds, as well as noble houses. The international armies and troops of mercenaries passing through medieval Florence spread knightly fashions from the north. The style of the Angevin knights and courtiers in particular made an impression, and Charles of Anjou not only spread heraldric fashion but personally ele­ vated a number of Florentines to knighthood.41 His marshal in Tuscany, Johannes de Braiselva, became renowned for his cortesia and his elegant dining habits.42 The troops of mercenary knights in Florence in the 1260s and 1280s also may have spread fashions on a more humble level. They were largely drawn from the Italian peninsula, but also came from farther afield, including Provence, Germany, and Normandy.43 Knightly style spread in part through the exquisite tradition of courtly poetry. Courtly literature stressed cortesia and elegant manners, some­ times military prowess, but above all generosity and lavish display. This potentially contradictory mix is expressed in the poetry of Raimbaut de Vacqueiras, a Provengal troubador who spent much of his career in north­ ern Italy. In 1205, Raimbaut composed a verse letter to his patron, the marquis of Montferrat, which enumerates both the marquis's military feats and his courtly virtues. Raimbaut concludes: Alexander left you his generosity, and Roland and the twelve peers their dar­ ing, and the gallant Berart lady-service [the Provengal "domney"] and grace­ ful discourse. In your court reign all good usages: munificence and service of ladies, elegant raiment, handsome armour, trumpets and diversions and viols and song, and at the hour of dining it has never pleased you to see a keeper at the door.44 40 Ricordano Malispini, Storia fiorentina (Florence, 1816), chap. 52; see Zug Tucci, "Istituzioni araldiche e pararaldiche nelia vita toscana del Duecento," in Nobilta e ceti dirigenti . . , strutture e concetti, p. 65. 41 See Malispini, Storia, chaps. 180, 188; Zug Tucci, "Un linguaggio feudale," p. 817; also G. Capponi, Storia della repubblica di Firenze (Florence, 1876), vol. 1, p. 67. 42 See Davidsohn Storia vol. 3, p. 9. 43 Records of the payment of mercenary troops in the Capitoli include lists of their names: for 1263, see Capitoli xxvi 243r-245v, and xxix 294'-"; for 1280, xxvi, 269', 271r, and XXiX 312'-316v. On thirteenth-century mercenaries, see Daniel Waley, "Condotte and Condottieri in the Thirteenth Century," Proceedings of the British Academy 61 (1975): 33771. 44 "E qui vol dir per vertat ni comtar, Aleyxandres vos laisset son donar et ardimen Rottan e'lh dotze par e'l pros Berart domney e gent parlar. En vostra cort renhon tug benestar; dar e dompney, belh vestir, gent armar, trompas e joi e viulas e chantar, e ane no'us plac nulh

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The marquis's virtues included courage, refined manners, and above all largesse. Not surprisingly, the piece ends with a request for funds. In an­ other well-known poem, Raimbaut depicts the competition between beautiful ladies as the siege of one commune by another; the war is com­ plete with accurate detail, including a carroccio, the ornamented cart used as a city's battle standard.45 Courtly models were rarely taken over by the Italians, however, with­ out at least a grain of salt. A number of chroniclers mention an Easter festival, held at Treviso in 1213, which is an irresistible example of this influence. All the knights and ladies, together with their retinues, from the March, Lombardy, and Venice were invited. A wooden castle of love was constructed outside the city, and defended by the ladies. Rolandino re­ counts at length the precious fabrics and stones used to decorate the building and the ladies' costumes. The castle was assaulted by the young men, armed with flowers. Unfortunately, the festa degenerated: the men split up by nationality, with each group trying to take the castle on its own. The Trevigians (according to the chronicler) coaxed the ladies with sweet words and flowers, the Paduans proffered food—cakes and pies and even cooked hens—while the Venetians first tried Oriental spices and then gold ducats. The ladies very sensibly surrendered to the Venetians. A quarrel between the Venetians and the Paduans ensued, and the chron­ icler tells us that the incident provoked war between the two cities.46 The ladies' choice of the Venetian ducats was inelegant but wise. Italian nobles often showed this rather uncourtly pragmatism. This was a so­ phisticated and self-aware culture, with an element of posturing: the Ital­ ians brought a sense of humor to the courtly tradition, and their literature often bordered on satire. These potentially contradictory themes ap­ peared not only in the aristocratic poetry of courtly love but also in pop­ ular tales. They are interwoven in the Novellino, a late thirteenth-century collection of sometimes bawdy short tales that became one of the sources for Boccaccio. The tales celebrate military feats, quick-wittedness, wis­ dom, and, most commonly, exaggerated generosity. One recurring char­ acter is the young King Henry, eldest son of Henry II of England, who with exaggerated knightly largesse gives away all he possesses.47 portier al manjar." The Poems of the Troubadour Raimbaut de Vaqueiras, trans, and ed. J. Linskill (The Hague, 1964), epic letter hi, lines 99—106. 45 The battle of the ladies is poem xvm. On the influence of Raimbaut on noble culture, see G. Carducci, chap. 2, "Galanterie cavalleresche del secolo XII e XIII," in Cavalleria e umanesimo, vol. 20 of Opera Omnia (Bologna, 1909). 46 Rolandino, "Liber chronicorum . . . temporum de factis in Marchia," Rerum Italicarum Scriptores, vol. VIII, book I, chap, xiii, pp. 24—25. See Carducci, p. 71, for the four other chroniclers who described this episode. 47 Il Novellino, ed. G. Favati (Genoa, 1970).

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Courtly ceremony and knightly gear became emblems of social mobil­ ity. The importance of a military style to a nouveau riche merchant is apparent in the will of Bello Ferrantini. Bello was the second husband of Ravenna Donati, a woman of high social position married to a wealthy man of less impressive origins. After Bello's early death, Ravenna's no­ torious brother Corso Donati provoked a major dispute through his ef­ forts to control the estate. Bello Ferrantini's will is atypical in that he mentioned his arms, which he left not to his young son but to the two sons of a notary. They received his horses and "omnia arma sua equestria et pedestria." Apparently he had two sets of weaponry, for horse and foot. His exact relationship to the two men is not clear. They are named in a codicil as substitute tutores, together with Simone Donati, and must have been male relations, friends, or business associates. The fact that they were the sons of a notary suggests that they were closer to Bello's social status than to the Donati. The will is thoughtful and affectionate, with careful provisons for dependents, including sisters, nieces, and ser­ vants. It is telling that the upwardly mobile Bello thought of his arms and left them as an affectionate bequest.48 By the 1280s, Florentine nobles demonstrably took to heart another aspect of the courtly tradition—lavish display and expenditure, like the openhandedness of the young King Henry in the Novellino. Folgore da San Gimignano, a courtly poet of the late Dugento and early Trecento, equated cortesia with largesse and extravagance.49 In a series of sonnets concerning the arming of a knight, Folgore depicted youths willing to pledge even their lands and castles to pay the expenses of a proper dub­ bing.50 The social uses of courtly hospitality are evident in a passage from Villani's chronicle describing a festival of San Giovanni held in 1283. It was sponsored by the Rossi, a magnate house of recent social origins involved in banking and living in Oltrarno, in Santa Felicita, and was lavish to the point of vulgar ostentation. Villani writes that they made a company of over a thousand men, all dressed in white robes with a signore called the lord of Love. In this gathering one exerted oneself only in games and amusements and in the dances of knights and ladies and other folk, going about the countryside with trumpets and various instruments in joy and hap­ piness, and joining together at banquets, dinners and suppers. This court lasted close to two months and was the most noble and renowned ever to 48 The will is Diplomatico, San Domenico nel Maglio, 26 maggio 1277. On Ravenna's tragic career, see chap. 7. 49 See Il Duecento dalle origitti a Dante, ed. N. Mineo et al. (Bari, 1970), vol. 2, part 2, pp. 229—48, esp. 246. Folgore was dead by 1332. 50 Folgore da San Gimignano, Sonetti, ed. G. Caravaggi (Turin, 1965), I, p. 27.

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take place in the city. . . . Many noble courtiers and jesters came from diverse countries and lands, and [the Rossi] received and provided honorably for them all.51

Like the young king in the Novellino, the Rossi were extraordinarily openhanded. Surely Villani exaggerated and the family did not supply feasts to a thousand men and untold ladies for two months. The stress in the account is on the scale of the festivities, on the elegant games and dances, on the presence of foreign courtiers, and on lavish display.52 This account also marks a change in noble culture, a shift perceived by several early fourteenth-century writers. Giovanni Villani, Dante, and others believed that the patriciate had changed: the austere style and ac­ tive military role of the early Dugento nobles was replaced by a new lux­ ury and refinement, a stress on clothing and table manners rather than on military prowess. As these authors pointed out, Florentine wars were now waged by professionals, and knighthood was becoming a matter of courtly titles and elegant games.53 In the late thirteenth century, then, knighthood and courtly style were status symbols, and their divorce from military practice had begun. For Italian urban nobles, chivalry and knighthood were a means of selfdefinition.54 A man spent lavishly to have his son dubbed a knight not to justify the young man's status but rather to define it. Expensive gear, elab­ orate ceremonial, and courtly style could set them apart from the popolo, and link them with the courts of Europe and the upper reaches of the nobility, particularly the court of Frederick II and, later in the century, the Angevin court. Patricians defined themselves through knightly behav­ ior; social mobility was a matter of style as well as wealth. The pragmatic Florentines also did not adopt the chivalric style without a grain of salt. The celebration of display and lavish expenditure could be self-serving, 51 "Si fece . . . una compagnia e brigate di mille uomini ο piu, tutti vestiti di robe bianche con uno signore detto d'Amore. Per la qual brigata non s'intendea se non in giuoche e in solazzi e in balli di donne e di cavalieri e d'altri popolani, andando per la terra con trombe e diversi strumenti in gioia e allegrezza, e stando in conviti insieme, in desinare e in cene, la quale corte duro presso a due mesi, e fu la piu nobile e nominata che mai fosse nella citta . . . alia quale vennero di diversi parte e paesi molti gentili uomini di corte e giocolare, e tutti fuorono ricevuti e proveduti onorevolmente." Villani, Cronica, book 7, chap. 89. For a later version, see rubric 160 of Marchionne di Coppo Stefani, Cronaca fiorentina, N. Rodolico, Rerum Italicarum Scriptores, vol. 30, part 1. 52 Villani described similar feste held to commemorate the Battle of Campaldino, Cronica, book 7, chap. 132. See Trexler, Public Life, pp. 217—18. 53 On these laments, see chap. 12. 54 For alternative explanations of the social function of knighthood, see Colin Morris, "Equestris Ordo: Chivalry as a Vocation in the Twelfth Century," Studies in Church His­ tory 15 (1978); and Duby, The Three Orders.

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for example, in a merchant house making a fortune trading in luxury goods.55

Knighthood and the Youth Culture Chivalric and knightly models had a special appeal for youths, like St. Francis and his followers. There is an intriguing fragment of evidence for popular chivalric societies formed by young townsmen. Boncompagno da Signa, in a handbook of formulas written at the beginning of the thir­ teenth century, mentions in passing "societies of young men, formed in many parts of Italy, with names like the fellowship of the falcons, fellow­ ship of the lions, fellowship of the round table."56 These societies flour­ ished in particular in Tuscany, Boncompagno tells us, where one could scarcely find a youth who did not belong to one of them. This brief passage from Boncompagno's formulary recalls Georges Duby's account of the social background of chivalric culture. Duby, studying northern France in the twelfth century, found that groups of aristocratic youths, trained as knights, formed bands and left home for long periods seeking adventure and spoils. Duby argued that this resulted from the structure of noble families and the tradition of male postponement of marriage. Elder sons were encouraged to leave for a time to keep them from competing with their fathers for control of the patrimony. Younger sons, dispossessed by primogeniture, sought wives and fortunes on their own. These iuvenes, Duby argues, were both the model for chivalric lit­ erature and its primary audience.57 The young and handsome Amerigo of Narbonne, whom Charles II of Anjou provided to the Florentines as a captain, is probably an example of this pattern. Amerigo knew little of war—Charles in fact may have been pleased to be rid of him—but was accompanied by an experienced tutor. Ironically, it was the tutor and not Amerigo who was killed at Campaldino.58 55 For a vivid evocation of this culture in the early fourteenth century, see V. Branca, Boccaccio medievale (Florence, 1956). 56 "Fiunt etiam in multis partibus Ytalie quedam iuvenum societates quarum aliqua falconum, aliqua leonum, aliqua de tabula rotunda societas nominatur et sic diversi nomina diversa societatibus super imponunt. Et licet ista consuetudo sit per universas partes Ytalie, multo fortius in Tuscia viget, quia vix reperirentur in aliqua civitate iuvenes qui non sint adstrincti alicui societati vinculo juramenti." Boncompagno, "Cedrus," HI, in L. Rockinger, Briefsteller und Formelbucher des elften bis vierzehnten Jabrbunderts (Munich, 1863), vol. 1, p. 122. 57 G. Duby, "Youth in Aristocratic Society," The Chivalrous Society, pp. 112-22. 58 Their relationship recalls Duby's recent account of the role of William Marshal as the

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Younger sons were not dispossessed by Florentine noble families, as we have seen. Yet their situations in some ways paralleled the elder sons de­ scribed by Duby. Marriage and inheritance were postponed until the death or at least the dotage of the father. Unless these young men were emancipated, there is little evidence that they were allowed an adult eco­ nomic role. David Herlihy suggested that in the fifteenth-century city pro­ longed male adolescence created a class of wealthy and irresponsible young men who became a major source of urban violence.59 The societies described by Boncompagno indicate a similar pattern: well-to-do youths without economic or familial responsibilities, who were drawn to the mil­ itary and to chivalric ideas. It is impossible to tell from Boncompagno's brief mention whether these societies were social clubs or organizations with real military pur­ poses and training. Perhaps they put on the displays of knightly prowess that were included in communal celebrations. These were horse races and armeggerie, passages at arms in which young men displayed their abilities on horseback, tilting at a wooden image of a Saracen. Dino Compagni mentions armeggerie performed to greet both the victorious army return­ ing from the battle of Campaldino and the Angevin King Charles of Sic­ ily.60 The fact that these youth societies were bound by oaths suggests that they were also more serious: an oath in the early thirteenth century was not a light matter. The names of these societies and their oaths call to mind contemporary tower societies, suggesting a real political and mil­ itary purpose. Did Florentine youths take up military careers, even temporarily? It would certainly have been convenient for their families to keep them busy with military training and knightly interests. The fact that these Floren­ tine families did not practice primogeniture did not eliminate fraternal competition, and by leaving expectations unclear may have fostered it. Only a very wealthy family could accommodate all its sons in the family firm, if one even existed. For a large and less prosperous house, it would be handy to send a few sons off to fight for the Cross, or for that matter for the pope, the Angevins, or the emperor. Perhaps knighthood and chi­ valric literature had a special audience in these young men; perhaps the urban nobles, like their northern and rural counterparts, found knighttutor of the young prince Henry in William Marshal: The Flower of Chivalry, trans. R. Howard (New York, 1985). 59 D. Herlihy, "Some Psychological and Social Roots of Violence in the Tuscan Cities," in Violence and Disorder in the Italian Cities, ed. L. Martines, pp. 129-54. On generational conflict, see "The Generation in Medieval History" and "Alienation in Medieval Culture and Society," in D. Herlihy, The Social History of Italy and Western Europe, 700-1500 (London, 1978). 60 Compagni, Cronica, book 1, chap. 7.

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hood and chivalry a useful way to occupy their male children, at least temporarily. It may be that the characteristic noble culture of the thirteenth-century city was in important ways a youth culture. Knighthood, then, was central to magnate status for a number of reasons. It did imply real military service. At least until the end of the thirteenth century, Florentine patricians were trained in the military and many chose to risk their lives in the militia. However, combat on horse was not exclusive to the nobles, but a more widespread obligation. Nobles also took on aspects of knighthood as a cultural model. The medieval Floren­ tine nobles were fascinated with courtly style, elegant dress and manners. For these urban nobles, knighthood was a means of self-definition. At least by the 1280s, this meant not only military skill but aristocratic lar­ gesse, as upwardly mobile families like the Rossi spent lavishly in imita­ tion of courtly models. Knighthood also served a special purpose, offering a partial solution to the problem of idle youths. Patrilineal solidarity created a large pool of young men without adult responsibilities. Knightly training offered them at least an elegant diversion, and in some cases a vocation. It could also enable them to serve the lineage's political and factional ambitions. Ultimately, the inclusion of knighthood in the statutes as an element defining magnate status denied contemporary justifications of the nobil­ ity. According to the society of orders ideology, knights served to defend society. In the Florentine statutes, knighthood instead identified the group which posed a military threat to the state. Their status was shaped not by their positive social function but by their violent challenge to public or­ der. The statutes in fact defined them not in terms of their role as defend­ ers of the city but in terms of their violent and disruptive role. It was the popolo who became society's defenders.

VIOLENCE AND FACTION

I

N 1286, MAGNATE status was based on three general criteria: knighthood, popular opinion, and a propensity for violence and fac­ tion, implied by the requirement that they post security against the possible commission of a crime. The implications of knighthood are clear. It meant actual military training and service on horse; it also implied elab­ orate ceremonial and courtly style. The magnates were in some ways a military class, even at the end of the thirteenth century. What of the other criteria, popular opinion and a propensity for vio­ lence and faction? The criteria seem highly subjective: houses were to be named not on the basis of demonstrated records, but rather according to the public perception that they were prone to violence and faction. The decision to name a particular house as magnate certainly could be a sub­ jective one; popular opinion could mean popularity, or political clout. It is also the case that popular opinion was anchored in past experience and contemporary political realities: there were noble houses with long rec­ ords of violence and involvement in factional wars. It is a central argument of this study that the violence and faction of the nobles derived from their exaggerated patrilineal culture. Public and pri­ vate loyalties were blurred, so that family vendetta was indistinct from factional war. Noble patrilineages used force to dominate their neighbors and political adversaries, standing in opposition to public, civic authority. Violence was not accidental but rather integral to the culture of the thirteenth-century nobles. It was fostered by the intensity of competition be­ tween lineages and by the contradictory nature of the lineage itself. The custom of prolonged male adolescence further exacerbated noble violence by creating a class of young men trained in the military and left without adult responsibilities.

Patrilineage and Vendetta Medieval Florentine nobles held social and political values that were rad­ ically different from modern ones, and perhaps even from those of the Quattrocento. A nobleman acted within a web of sometimes competing associations and loyalties: his immediate family, his kindred—including married sisters and maternal kin—his lineage and its allies, and his neigh-

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borhood. He also had ties to financial associates and guild, and in the earlier period to the society of knights. Finally he might well hold civic office. Civic loyalty had no clear primacy. The commune was only one of a number of sworn associations a noble joined, and was probably less im­ portant to him than the neighborhood, the guild, or the society of knights. It was certainly less important than his lineage. Patrilineal values required that a man give his first loyalty to his kinsmen, placing their interests not only above the interests of wives and daughters, as we have seen, but above those of the commune. The pact between members of the CorboIani in Lucca states that in case of civil disturbance, the domus gathered to decide whether to support the commune or its opponents.1 Public and private were characteristically blended. There was not al­ ways a clear line between the family's private interests and the public concerns of government. Until the mid-thirteenth century, the city gov­ ernment and the courts often met in private palaces.2 The courts in this period did act by virtue of public authority, ultimately granted by the emperor. But when a man went to the palace of the Abati to get justice, it must have been a little unclear to him whether he was in fact receiving that justice from the commune and, by extension, the emperor or from the Abati. When the city in 1241 was unable to pay a substantial debt to the Amidei, the city's judicial and tax records were handed over to the family as surety.3 This means that the line between social ties and political associations was blurred. A contest between two factions might be touched off by a personal insult. Giovanni Villani's retrospective account of the civil war of 1177-1179 evokes the intimacy of relations among members of the ruling class. Fighting broke out as the Uberti and their allies contested a virtual monopoly of consular offices by an alliance centered on members of the Iudi, Giandonati, and Fifanti families.4 In Villani's account, the 1 S. Bongi, ed. "Statuto inedito," p. 485. See chap. 3 for a discussion of the pact. For a provocative discussion of patrilineal values and conflict in the fifteenth century, see Thomas Kuehn, "Honor and Conflict in a Fifteenth-Century Florentine Family," Ricerche storiche 10, no. 2(1980):287-310. 2 This was despite a communal palace having been built between 1203 and 1208 in the area of the modern Piazza Signoria; see Davidsohn, Storia vol. 1, p. 1007. 3 Diplomatico, S. Matteo in Arcetri, 4 dicembre 1241. 4 See Davidsohn, Storia vol. 1, pp. 822—24, for an effort to disentangle the network of alliances among these families. There are unpublished laureate theses from the medieval history seminar of the University of Florence that discuss the late twelfth- and early thir­ teenth-century patriciate, but I have not seen them: Raveggi and Tarassi cite G. Matteini and A. Tani, "La cittadinanza e la classe dirigente fiorentina dal 1150 al 1175"; L. Bartalucci and A. Malvolti, "La cittadinanza e la classe dirigente fiorentina dal 1175 al 1200";

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conflict seems half social event, as much a tournament as a civil war: "on one day they would fight and on the next they would eat and drink to­ gether, telling each other stories of the feats of strength and prowess they had performed at the battles."5 The purpose was not only to capture civic offices but to display one's prowess and valor. This combination fostered the notorious vendettas of the medieval city. It was the existence of the patrilineal organization of the nobles as a sys­ tem competing with civic government that made the vendetta a threat to public order. In stateless societies organized in lineages, such as those of traditional East Africa, feuds served a positive social purpose; in a society without governing institutions, feuds were the sanctions that constrained behavior. In Dugento Florence, they challenged the authority of the state.6 Nobles were driven by a concern for honor and shame. These were not interior qualities but external attributes, not internalized but acted out. When a man—or a lineage—was dishonored, the remedy was dramatic public action.7 The most vivid example is the vendetta of 1216, which became the legendary genesis of the Guelf and Ghibelline parties. The earliest account, from the chronicle of the Pseudo-Brunetto Latini, brings together major elements of noble culture: the blurring of public and pri­ vate, their stress on honor and shame and on dramatic action, and their volatility.8 The account begins with knights seated at table. The occasion was a feast given by messer Mazzingo di Tegrimo de Mazzinghi to celebrate his dubbing as a knight. It was general practice for two men to share a single plate, and the fight began when a buffoon snatched away a full plate shared by Uberto dell'Infangati and Buondelmonte di Buondelmonti. Uberto became infuriated, and messer Oddo Arrighi rudely reproved him for it. Uberto told Oddo Arrighi that he "lied in his throat," and Oddo in response tossed a plate full of meat in Uberto's face.9 In the ensuing melee, Buondelmonte wounded Oddo Arrighi with a knife. and E. Lapi, L. Paoli, and S. Salsi, "La classe dirigente fiorentina nel primo cinquantennio del Dugento." 5 "L'uno di si combatteano, e l'altro mangiavano e beveano insieme, novellando delle virtudi e prodezze l'uno dell'altro che si faceano a quelle battaglie." Villani, Cronica, book 5, chap. 9. Villani was writing more than a century later. 6 See Lucy Mair, Primitive Government (Harmondsworth, Eng., 1964), chap. 1, and the discussion by R. I. Moore, The Formation of a Persecuting Society, pp. 109—10. 7 This is based in part on an insightful reconstruction of the cognitive world of sixteenthcentury nobles: Kristen B. Neuschel, Word of Honor: Interpreting Noble Culture in Six­ teenth-Century France (Ithaca, N.Y., 1989); I am unconvinced by the explanation in terms of the transition from orality to literacy. 8 For an analysis of the ways in which later versions of this story changed, shifting the burden of guilt to the women, see Diane Hughes, "Invisible Madonnas? The Italian Historiographical Tradition and theWomen of Medieval Italy,"Women in Medieval History and Historiography, ed. Susan M. Stuard (Philadelphia, 1987), pp. 25—58. 9 "Ed essendo Ii chavalieri a tavola, uno giucolare di corte venne e Uevo uno talgliere

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According to the chronicler, Oddo Arrighi, the injured party, went home and consulted his atnici e parenti. This group is described as four lineages as well as the Fifanti: the counts of Gangalandi, Uberti, Lamberti, and Amidei. They counseled him to make peace in the traditional manner, through a marriage between Buondelmonte and Oddo's niece, the daughter of a sister who had married an Amidei. The rest of the tale is legendary. Buondelmonte first consented and then—mocked by Gualdrada dei Donati as a chavaliere vitiperato, a dis­ honored knight agreeing to this marriage out of fear—chose to spurn the Amidei girl and marry Gualdrada Donati's daughter instead. The Fifanti allies met in their parish church and decided on a spectacular revenge. Concealing themselves in the Amidei house at the head of the Ponte Vecchio, they ambushed the young man and slaughtered him during his wed­ ding procession. Schiatta degli Uberti knocked Buondelmonte off his horse and Oddo Arrighi butchered him by slitting his veins. The result was a major vendetta and, according to the chroniclers, the formation of the Guelf and Ghibelline factions.10 There is no way to determine the absolute accuracy of this account, although it was generally accepted by the end of the century. For our purposes, it is important not as a record of events but because of the ideas about patrician behavior that inform it. The episode most obviously shows the volatility of the nobles, and how rapidly the chronicler believed a small insult could blow up into a major feud and ultimately into civil war. The initial provocation was clearly the public shame suffered when blood was shed, although Oddo cannot have been badly hurt. Uberto dell'Infangati, despite the insult of a plate of meat in the face, took no revenge. The final provocation was the slighting of the Amidei daughter intended as the peace offering, an open insult to her lineage and its allies. Reconciliation and then revenge also took the form of public, dramatic actions: a marriage and an open murder. The roles played by women in the episode are telling. The blame is placed on the shoulders of Gualdrada, the older woman who ridicules the young man and incites him to rebellion. She contrasts with the innocent brides, including her own daughter whose wedding procession becomes a funeral cortege. The women, in some ways peripheral to their lineages, fornito dinanzi a messer Uberto dell'Infangati, il qual era in conpangnia di messer Bondelmonte di Bondelmonti; donde fortemente si cruccioe. E messer Oddo Arrighi de'Fifanti, huomo valoroso, villanamente riprese messer Uberto predecto; onde messer Uberto Io smentio per la gola, e messer Oddo Arrighi Ii gitto nel viso uno talgliere fornito di carne: onde tutta la corte ne fue travalglata." Pseudo-Brunetto Latini, "Cronica Florentina," in Villari, I primi due secoli della storia di Firenze, vol. 2, pp. 195-269; this text is p. 233. 10 "[M]esser Ischiatta delli Uberti Ii corse adosso e dielli d'una mazza in sulla tessta e miselo a terra del cavallo, e tantosto messer Oddarighi con un coltello Ii segho Ie vene, e lasciarlo morte." "Cronica," p. 234.

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nevertheless carried their honor, making them central to the relations be­ tween lineages. The conflict between the Buondelmonti and the Fifanti, Amidei, and their allies probably derived ultimately from a neighborhood rivalry. The Amidei and Fifanti held a number of towers on the via Por Santa Maria, between the Ponte Vecchio and the old Santa Maria city gate. The Buondelmonti towers and palaces were around the corner, on the via Borgo Santissimi Apostoli, between the gate and the church of Santissimi Apostoli Neighborhood proximity bred political rivalry. Further, despite the tradition in the chroniclers, the factions did not form as a result of the incident, but preexisted: as Sergio Raveggi has shown, Oddo Arrighi's extended set of lineage alliances were in essence the origin of the GhibelIine faction and dated back at least to the civil war of 1177.11 The men making the decisions in the chronicler's account of the feud were not hotheaded youths, but substantial citizens. Mosca Lamberti, who advised that the young man be killed, was acting as agent for the affairs of the commune itself in 1219.12 Schiatta degli Uberti, who actu­ ally helped in the killing, is thought to have been a well-known leader of the lineage.13 Oddo Arrighi himself led a party attending the coronation of Frederick II a few years later.14 The implication is that while the youth culture exacerbated violence, that violence was rooted in noble patrilineal culture. For Mosca Lamberti or Oddo Arrighi, shame over the public hu­ miliation of the lineage and its allies was paramount, overriding other concerns and responsibilities.

Neighborhoods and Clients Oddo Arrighi's enmity toward Buondelmonte di Buondelmonte probably had its ultimate origins in a neighborhood rivalry. One of the central themes in this study is the use of patrilineal ties as a strategy enabling families to share strategic properties. Families sought to establish a terri­ torial identity, ideally holding towers, palaces, and other properties clus­ tered in a single region. One purpose of these shared resources was to enable the lineage to attain power within its neighborhood. The assump­ tion is that lineages used shared resources to build and exercise military, political, and perhaps economic control over their neighbors. From this 11 Raveggi, Ghibellini, Guelfi e Popolo Grasso, p. 281. On the Fifanti, see Stahl, Adel und Voik, pp. 67-68. 12 Documenti, ed. Santini, I, n. LXVII, p. 194. 13 A Schiacta Uberti acting as witness to a document in 1225 may be the same individual: Documenti, ed. Santini, n, n. xxvin, p. 253. 14 Davidsohn, Storia vol. 2, p. 108.

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power base, lineage members and their allies could go on to hold civic offices. It was for this reason that the lineage could command a man's first loyalty: it promised success and power. The formation of many of the urban lineages was paralleled by the rise of rural signorie, territorial lordships, in which noble families exercised the powers of public government within their district, administering jus­ tice, exacting dues and service. Perhaps some of their urban counter­ parts—at times of course the same families—were attempting a some­ what similar role within the city. A number of scholars have recently argued for a high degree of continuity between city and countryside in the eleventh and twelfth centuries.15 The parallel is inexact, as the means used by families to gain power in the city and the countryside were diverse. However, their motivation was similar: both sought effective jurisdic­ tional power. Probably urban lineages only rarely achieved long-term neighborhood predominance. Unfortunately, the evidence for the neighborhood roles of the magnate lineages is meager, late, and often indirect. There are occa­ sional early references that are suggestive. Davidsohn found that in 1081 the region occupied by the Visdomini was termed the "terra de hominibus qui Vicedomini vocantur," and the adjoining gate from 1078 the "posterula Visdomini."16 Both phrases suggest physical possession of the area. This is plausible: if the Visdomini possessed a real neighborhood strong­ hold, that helps to explain the power and influence that enabled them to maintain their grip on the Florentine bishopric over such a long period. Another dramatic fragment of evidence, dated more than two centuries later, is a passage in Dino Compagni's chronicle. Compagni wrote that private justice existed in the city even in the early fourteenth century: "Throughout the city it was commonly said, 'There are many tribu­ nals,' " implying that private justice existed side by side with the civic courts. The Bostichi, Compagni continued, "tortured men in their houses, which were in the middle of the city by the new market, and they put them to the torment in broad daylight."17 Perhaps Compagni exagger­ ated; still, this open display of power supports the idea that urban nobles could resemble rural lords. Is there more systematic evidence for the neighborhood roles of the nobility? A family seeking to control its neighborhood could use both 15

See the discussion in Wickham, The Mountains and the City, esp. chaps. 4,10, and 11. Storia vol. 5, p. 395. 17 "Questi Bostichi feciono moltissimi mali, e continuoronli molto. Collavano gli uomini in casa loro, Ie quali erano in Mercato Nuovo nel mezzo della citta; e di mezzo di gli metteano al tormento. E volgarmente si dicea pet la terra: 'Molte corti ci sono'; e annoverando i luoghi dove si dava tormento, si diceva: 'Acasa i Bostichi in Mercato.' " Compagni, Cronica, book 2, chap. 20; Bornstein trans., p. 49. 16 Davidsohn,

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formal and informal mechanisms. Formal government was exercised through the vicinanze, or parish organizations. In the twelfth and early thirteenth centuries, effective government was decentralized, operating at the parish level.18 Parishes were governed by ecclesiastical and lay rectores, with the lay rectors in some way selected by the parishioners. The best contemporary account of Florentine parish governance was a text dated ca. 1202, which detailed the actual obligations of parishioners. The document is now lost; it was described in 1804 by Pier Cianfogni in his history of San Lorenzo, but had vanished by the time Davidsohn re­ searched the problem in the 1890s. The text recorded the testimony of witnesses in a boundary dispute between San Lorenzo and the suburban parish of San Gallo and Santa Maria. Cianfogni included a quick sum­ mary in Italian of the obligations of parishioners, which were a revealing mix of fiscal, military, civic, and religious duties. Parishioners were ex­ pected to attend their parish church to hear mass, to receive the sacra­ ments, to celebrate the cycle of religious festivals, and to bury their chil­ dren. They also were obligated to take the oath to the rector and to pay him their taxes, the libra and the dazio.19 In other words, the lay rectors fully represented the power and authority of the commune. It is signifi­ cant that parishioners swore the oaths that created the corporate associ­ ation of the commune not among the assembled citizens of Florence, but as members of their parish, taking the oath to their rectors. The parish rectors also acted on behalf of the commune in imposing and collecting taxes. Parishioners cleaned the ditches within the parish confines, re­ paired the streets, maintained public water basins, and aided in other public works when necessary.20 Parishes were organized along military lines. The city's militia, horse and foot, served by parish, with each vicinanza marching under its own banner. One parishioner recalled his military service at the time when the emperor Henry V was resident at Campi, near Florence. In the absence of other institutions, the military companies also were used for major public works. When the Ponte Vecchio was destroyed in 1177, leaving the city without a bridge across the Arno, the commune required the parish mili18 On parish organization, see Gino Masi, "II Popolo a Firenze alia fine del dugento," Archivio giuridico 99 (1928): 86—100; J. C. Koenig, "The Popolo of Northern Italy (1196— 1274)," Ph.D. diss., U.C.L.A., 1977, chap. 5; On a fifteenth-century gonfalone, see Dale and F. W. Kent, Neighbors and Neighborhood in Renaissance Florence (Locust Valley, N.Y., 1982). 19 The word Cianfogni used in this context was "paroco," stating that the citizens took the oath to the "paroco." As Davidsohn pointed out, this was almost certainly a translation of the Latin "rector": Cianfogni apparently did not know of the existence of lay rectors and assumed that "rector" referred to the parish priest. The libra and the dazio were, respec­ tively, an extraordinary tax on property and a hearth tax. 20 Davidsohn, Storia vol. 1, pp. 484—88.

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tary companies to begin the repair. Cianfogni for once directly quoted the text: "Quando Pons Arni ruit, ivit iste testis cum aliis de loco illo, unde lis est, cum vexillo splicato, cum populo Sancti Laurentii, sicut ivent ad praelium ad pontem quia omnes populi ibant illuc ad ficcandos palos pontis."21 ("When the Arno bridge broke, this witness went forth with others from the place of the [parish boundary] dispute, with their banner displayed, together with the people of San Lorenzo, just as they go to war. They marched to the bridge because all of the people went there, in order to drive in the supports for the bridge.") The effort to drive stakes in the riverbed in order to rebuild the bridge must have made a terrifying im­ pression: it was mentioned by three witnesses, although it had happened twenty-four years earlier. The implication is that the office of rector gave its holder effective con­ trol of the organs of government, including the powers to levy labor and to collect taxes. The parallel with rural signorie is hardly exact, as rural parishes had rectors as well. Nonetheless, it is suggestive: in both cases the lords or rectors held most powers of public government in their hands. The critical factor was the administration of justice. Evidence from other cities suggests that justice also was under the control of the rector. In fact, parishioners could be made collectively liable for the ap­ prehension of a criminal from their neighborhood. Can noble lineages be shown to have directly controlled their parishes and thus the office of rector? Their appearance in consular offices implies that this was often the case. However, the few texts recording the election of rectors are late, dating from the 1290s. Two parish assemblies from Santa Maria sopr'Arno appear in a notarial text, dating from 1291 and 1293. The first included 82 men, the second, 94. The parish was heavily dominated by the Bardi lineage: in 1291, sixteen of the eighty-two men in the text were identified as Bardi, and probably more Bardi were listed without their surname.22 Both these assemblies took place in order to choose a representative to collect taxes. I have not been able to identify the men chosen as Bardi clients, but it is hard to believe that they were not supported by the Bardi. Another example is a 1297 list of six repre­ sentatives for another Oltrarno parish, San Frediano: three were Nerli, the major magnate lineage in the neighborhood.23 Noble lineages at least sought to dominate parish offices, and their vir­ tual monopoly of consular offices implies that they succeeded. The inten21 Pier Nolasco Cianfogni, Memorie istoriche dell'ambrosiana R. Basilica di San Lorenzo (Florence, 1804), vol. 1, p. 102. This is in disagreement with Davidsohn, who thought that the use of the military companies was defensive, reflecting a need to protect the project from military attack. 22 ASF Notarile, C 102 94', 133". 23 Notarile, B 2166, 1'.

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sity of competition between neighboring lineages, attested by many sources, also suggests that a lineage was rarely able to do so for long. The civil wars which began in the late twelfth century were as much battles for control of local, parish offices as for the larger commune. The second aspect of this problem is private power exercised through networks of clients. Scholars have suggested that the medieval city was structured by vertical ties of dependence, and that one of the most impor­ tant ways a lineage could build power was through its clients. Lineages with a strong physical and military presence in a neighborhood thus would be able to control the area through clientage, offering economic aid, favors, and protection in exchange for loyalty and support. When families with substantial rural holdings moved to town, they might bring dependent families with them, so that immigration and settlement pat­ terns might be influenced by clientage as well. Networks of clients thus would be a critical motive for the maintenance of joint lineage property.24 Surprisingly, the medieval Florentine evidence does not altogether sus­ tain this view. The preliminary problem is deciding what precisely consti­ tuted patronage or clientage. Recent studies of the Renaissance city have included under this heading a wide range of relationships, serving a vari­ ety of purposes. These include formal ties based on power relations, like the obligations of rural dependents to their noble landlords detailed by Charles de la Ronciere in a study of the Guidi family in the fourteenth century.25 Dale Kent has set out another type by analyzing the ways in which the Medici made political friends of families in the middle ranks of Florentine society, using those friendships in building the faction that en­ abled them to rise to power. Medici political patronage has been analyzed by Anthony Molho as well.26 Christiane Klapisch has explored further types, including spiritual kinship, or godparenthood, a relationship in it­ self equal, though it might often exist between a patron and client. Klapisch argues that godparenthood—perhaps because of its implied spiri­ tual equality—might even serve to soften and individualize the more coercive ties of patronage.27 Klapisch has also outlined yet another type: 24 On Florentine patronage, see Ronald Weissman, "Taking Patronage Seriously: Mediteranean Values and Renaissance Society," and the other essays collected in Patronage, Art and Society in Renaissance Italy, ed. F. W. Kent and P. Simons (Oxford, 1987), pp. 25-45. Further essays on patronage appear in Ricerche storiche 15, no. 1 (January-April 1985), including Anthony Molho, "II padronato a Firenze nella storiografia anglofona." Molho points out that despite considerable efforts, scholars have produced little clear documenta­ tion of the vertical ties of patronage. 25 Charles de la Ronciere, "Fidelites patronages clienteles dans Ie contado florentin au xive siecle," Ricerche storiche 15, no. 1 (1985): 35—60. 26 D. Kent, The Rise of the Medici (Oxford, 1978), chap. 1, esp. 16-19; Anthony Molho, "Cosimo de' Medici: Pater Patriae or Padrino?" Stanford Italian Review 1 (1979): 5—33. 27 BClapisch suggests that between 1350 and 1450 godparenthood was used to reinforce

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patricians built sociable ties with neighbors, often through the gestures of hospitality—sharing food or a glass of wine—and used those ties to create a "complementary and locally-based support network."28 These ties linked people from a range of social levels, and did not necessarily imply coercion. An understanding of the political significance of patronage in thir­ teenth-century Florence, then, must be based on a precise understanding of the kinds of ties that actually existed. Again, rich evidence like the ricordanze and letter collections of the Quattrocento is simply lacking. One reference in the statutes does suggest that the kinds of neighborhood ties described by Klapisch had a different significance in the thirteenth century because of the importance of private military force. The laws of 1281 provided that in times of civil disturbance men, armed or not, could not gather at the houses of powerful men outside their own neighbor­ hood. This appears to distinguish between men seeking physical protec­ tion from a powerful neighbor—which was considered legitimate—and men gathering to swell the private military force of a combatant, which was prohibited.29 Medieval nobles created ties with neighbors not only through sociability but through the offer of physical protection and even coercion. Another suggestive fragment of evidence was uncovered by Charles de la Ronciere. Studying poverty in the fourteenth-century city, he found references to a class of permanent indigents who were explicitly identified as clients of particular families or institutions. Individuals on a list of those who in 1338 received charitable assistance from San Paolo de Convalescenti were often identified as former clients of another institution or a wealthy family; a notation might read "Johannes, infirmus, a se III, de Monticelli, olim de Capponis." Johannes has thus previously been a re­ cipient of charity from the Capponi lineage. Indigents—widows, the sick or disabled—might be specifically and publicly identified with a particu­ lar family, from whom they received some meager support. Fully half of the indigents listed in 1338 were former clients of wealthy lineages like the Bardi.30 This might suggest long-term association between a lineage and its clients, in which if a client was injured or killed the lineage was the vertical social ties of patronage; see her "Comperage et clientelism a Florence (13601520)," Rtcherche storiehe 15, no. 1 (1985): 61-76. 28 C. Klapisch, "Kin, Friends and Neighbors: The Urban Territory of a Merchant Family in 1400," in Women, Family and Ritual, pp. 68-93. 29 "Alii di civitate et omnes qui tunc in Civitate forent non trahant cum armis vel sine armis ad domum vel domos aliorum maxime Potentum sive Magnatum extra suam viciniam." Salvemini, Magnatie popolani, Appendice iva, rub. ix, p. 343. See chap. 10 for a discussion of the statutes. 30 Charles de la Ronciere, "Pauvres et pauvrete a Florence au xive siecle," Etudes sur I'histoire de la pauvrete, ed. M. Mollat (Paris, 1974), pp. 720—21.

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expected to aid his family. This would imply the vertical ties of depen­ dence that scholars have assumed existed in the medieval city. However, it might simply indicate, as de la Ronciere suggests, a population of per­ manent indigents who circulated from the charity of one lineage or insti­ tution to the next. One might expect evidence of clientage to survive in the notarial car­ tularies, but this kind of record is surprisingly rare. One exception is a series of texts that record the role of members of the Scolari, Buondelmonti kinsmen and thus derived from the lesser nobility, in Impruneta rather than in Florence. Messer Brancha, the emancipated son of messer Bernardo, in 1297 named a dowry, settled disputes, guaranteed the use of funds by the guardian of two underage boys, loaned money, and pur­ chased and sold rural property.31 Again, this suggests vertical ties of de­ pendence between patrons and clients, in which advice, financial assis­ tance, and political influence were given presumably in exchange for support. References to clientage in Dino Compagni's account of the BlackWhite conflict, written in 1310, suggest a different type of relationship. Compagni introduced the unsavory butcher Dino Pecora, for example, as a man supported by the della Tosa.32 Dino Pecora was not a helpless cli­ ent but an influential man in his own right, capable of forming conspira­ cies and garnering support with false promises of political offices. This seems closer to the alliances described by Dale Kent: ties between greater and lesser members of the political classes. This lack of evidence may be significant. Of course, some aspects of patronage, like godparenthood, simply do not appear in thirteenth-century records. It also may be that some notarial transactions conceal pa­ tron-client relations. Loans are the most obvious example; witnesses to important transactions are another. However, the example of the Scolari in Impruneta does suggest that patronage can show up in the notarial cartularies, so that the absence of evidence may be revealing. It may be that, as Anthony Molho has argued for Cosimo de'Medici in the fifteenth century, elites established ties of patronage with dependents in the coun­ tryside, and with members of the political classes in the city, but that those ties did not extend downwards to urban workers and the poor. Further, the model of neighborhoods integrated by long-standing ver­ tical ties of dependence should be re-examined. It is based after all on the assumption that the urban population was geographically stable. Patri­ cians demonstrably maintained residences in the same neighborhood for 31 For Brancha acting as an arbiter, see Notarile R 192, 70' (1296/7) and B 1340, 73v (1299); acting as a guarantor for a guardianship, B1340,30'(1297); naming a dowry,B1340, 73v (1297); see also B 1340, 33', 36', 36v, 37', 44'. On this lineage, see chap. 4. 32 Compagni, Cronica, book 1, chap. 13.

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centuries, but it does not necessarily follow that this was true at lower social levels. Members of the popolo minuto, living in rented housing, may have moved often. Their ties to powerful neighbors would be short­ lived as well. It may also be that Dugento nobles did not exert themselves to build long-standing relations of patronage: they after all had family forts, and they did arm family retainers.33 Lineages able to dominate their weaker neighbors through the threat of force had less use for the more subtle forms of coercion represented by patronage. If patronage ties were weak, that in turn does much to explain the vol­ atility of the thirteenth-century city. As Ramsey MacMullen has recently pointed out, long-standing ties of patronage foster peace and stability. Expectations are clear: as MacMullen writes of the Early Roman Empire, "You knew where you were and who you were and where you would be tomorrow."34 Clients have indirect access to power, giving them a peace­ ful means of improving their circumstances or resolving their problems. Patronage serves as a means of social integration. Thirteenth-century Florentine narrative sources describe not integra­ tion but division, both vertical divisions between patrician families, and horizontal divisions between nobles and popolani. From the late twelfth century, popular and military associations formed within the neighbor­ hoods in opposition to the nobles, strong evidence that noble families did not always have firm, long-standing ties with their neighbors. Again, the implication is that nobles relied on the use of force rather than on recip­ rocal ties of patronage. This point is reiterated in the statutes defining and restricting the magnates, which stressed not patronage and reciprocity but noble domination and violence against popolani. Further, lineages were rarely able to control their neighborhoods for long periods. There were a few corners of the city that were effectively dominated by large patrilineages at certain times. The late eleventh-cen­ tury "terra" of the Visdomini is one example; the Uberti control of the area that included the perilasio and the castle of Altafronte at the end of the twelfth century is another. In the late thirteenth century the Bardi must have played a decisive—though less overtly military—role in their parish of Santa Maria sopr'Arno. However, in many neighborhoods no single lineage gained hegemony for long. In the oldest and most strategic spots in the city, clustered around Santa Reparata, the old forum, and the Ponte Vecchio, families were packed tightly together and competed for dominance and even for survival. This intense local competition emerges very clearly from Gio33 The arming of servants and retainers was prohibited by the oath required of the mag­ nates in the statutes of October 1286; see Salvemini, Appendice ix, p. 368. 34 Ramsey MacMullen, Corruption and the Decline of Rome (New Haven and London, 1988), p. 169.

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vanni Villani's account of the initial outbreak of Guelf-Ghibelline fighting in 1248. In Villani's partisan view, an imperial request to the Uberti and their Ghibelline followers to drive the Guelfs from the city touched off the fighting. Villani implies, however, that the spark merely ignited exist­ ing rivalries. The account of the fighting is a list of neighborhood "battle points," the urban forts and major families involved: "The other point was in Porta San Piero, where the Tedaldini were head of the Ghibellines because they had the strongest buildings, palaces and towers, and the Caponsacchi, Lisei, Giuochi, Abati, and Galigari sided with them, and the fighting was with members of the Donati house, as well as with the Visdomini, Pazzi, and Adimari. Another point was in Porta del Duomo, at the tower of messer Lancia de' Cattani of Castiglione."35 Villani clearly implies that the roots of factional conflict lay in neigh­ borhood competition. Lineages were unable to achieve and maintain a clear predominance, so that neighborhoods were not held by single patrilineages or even by networks of alliances, but were hotly contested. It was not accidental, for example, that the Strinati became Ghibelline while their neighbors and rivals the della Tosa became Guelf. Neri Strinati dis­ cusses a peace pact of 1267 that was anchored in marriages between the lineages, and then describes how the della Tosa in 1301 broke the peace by sending their private troops to attack a Strinati house by night. When Rosso della Tosa was made an official over the exiled Ghibellines, he used his authority to have a number of Strinati houses destroyed.36 The pur­ pose of the wholesale demolition that followed a factional victory is clear in this context: it was an effort to eliminate the competition from the neighborhood, permanently.

Faction and Patrilineal Solidarity Most lineages were only rarely able to dominate their parishes for more than brief periods. More typically, they struggled to establish and retain family complexes of property and a family unity of effort. The picture of a unified group of kinsmen tightly running their neighborhood was a sel­ dom-achieved ideal. Why? In part, this resulted from the number and power of their competitors: there were simply too many similar families 35 "L'altra puntaglia era in porte San Piero, ond'erano capo de' ghibellini i Tedaldini, perch'aveano piu forti casamenti di palagi e torri, e con Ioro teneano Caponsacchi, Lisei, Giuochi, e Abati, e Galigari, e erano Ie battaglie con quegli della casa de' Donati, e con Visdomini, e Pazzi, e Adimari. E l'altra puntaglia era in porte del Duomo alia torre di messer Lancia de' Cattani da Castiglione. . . ." Villani, Cronica, book 6, chap. 33. 36 Neri Strinati, "Cronichetta," pp. 110, 115—17.

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disputing the same turf. Fundamentally, however, failure resulted from problems inherent in the patrilineage itself. As a social and political strategy, the patrilineage was a mixed success even in its heyday. It was difficult to sustain a unity of purpose among kinsmen because their interests were often diverse. To recognize this, it is helpful to return to the anthropological model of lineages as segmentary, having only a relative existence. The model is too schematic to do full justice to the complex reality of thirteenth-century Florentine life. For one thing, actual lineages were less tidy, and were not made up of fully auton­ omous household units, or segments. Nevertheless, individuals or seg­ ments—loosely understood as households or small branches of the larger lineage—often did have distinct sets of interests. These interests might be similar to those of their kinsmen, but they were not identical. Typically, kinsmen did share certain strategic properties, such as towers, palaces, and perhaps patronage rights. Other kinds of properties and ventures were not held jointly. This meant that although kinsmen valued lineage solidarity, in practice many forces tended to estrange them. They did not always share a clearly defined set of interests, and thus found it difficult to act with a unity of purpose. Faced with a political threat—or an op­ portunity—the whole lineage might consolidate, but more probably some segments would cooperate, while others saw it in their best interests to remain aloof or even to choose the opposing side. To put this another way, the lineage as a social and political strategy was a contradictory structure and tended to promise more than it could deliver. The ideal of lineage solidarity was difficult to maintain over time. Kinsmen often did not share a clear set of economic interests, so that a man might well find that his needs not only did not coincide with those of his lineage but that they directly conflicted. A man might be torn be­ tween the competing claims of his lineage and those of his immediate family or of his business partners. This meant that lineage expectations were too often left unfulfilled: men looked for a degree of unity from their kinsmen that they often could not sustain. The Abati are the best example of the complex involvement of a group of kinsmen in the factions. Most were fervent Ghibellines: Raveggi found that ten Ghibelline consuls were Abati between 1260 and 1266, and six were exiled. However, a number of them aided in the provisioning of the Florentine army before the anti-Ghibelline Battle of Montaperti, and two even served as officers in that army. Others had close financial ties to the papacy. How did the lineage divide up? By mid-century, there were three main branches to the family, as the fourth branch, the descendants of Ildebrandino, had associated themselves with his wife's kinsmen and split off to form the della Tosa. The branches of the Abati and their political and

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9

financial ties are set out in Figure 9.1. One of the three branches, the descendants of Abate di Rustico, left no evidence of Ghibellinism. Two Abati, Lamberto and Migliore, were Guelf knights, "cavalieri aureati" at the Peace of Cardinal Latino.^^ A number of their descendants became bankers and money changers, matriculating in the Cambio in 1300. One

Key:

Fid.LM: guarantor in Libra di Montapeno consul: consul under Ghibelline regime Cambio: matriculated in money changers guild L.Chiodo: exiled Ghibelline

Figure 9.1. The Abati: Ghibelline Ties and Financial Interests. ^^ See Ildefonso de San Luigi, Delizie, vol. 9, p. 103; M. Tarassi, in Raveggi et al., Ghihellini, Guelfi e Popolo Grasso, p. 13 In.

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family member, Raynuccio, whose place in the lineage is uncertain, in 1263 formally displayed Guelf financial loyalties when Urban IV lifted his excommunication.38 Lamberto also was absolved, in 1264, and his brother Jacopo ultimately received a benefice.39 What of the other two branches? There is little direct evidence of bank­ ing or money changing until the end of the century. A number of Abati had strong ties to the contado and holdings in land, judging from their appearance in the Libro di Montaperti as guarantors for rural parishes liable for provisions for the army.40 Some of the same men along with kinsmen from these two branches were active Ghibelline partisans, as Raveggi has shown. And yet as Figure 9.1 shows, two of their brothers, Simone di Raneri di Rustico and his brother messer Neri, served as offi­ cers fighting on the Florentine side at Montaperti, against the Ghibelline alliance. This contradictory mix of actions suggests their conflicting inter­ ests and loyalties. It was another brother, Bocca, whom the Florentines believed betrayed his city by cutting off the hand of the Florentine standard-bearer to pre­ vent him from rallying their forces at a critical moment in the battle. Bocca's legendary treachery, like the complexity of Abati political involve­ ment, was not anomalous but a direct result of the conflicting claims of lineage-based politics. He placed faction and perhaps family above loy­ alty to his city. Dante in retribution placed him in the darkest pit of hell.41 Most lineages were not as obviously divided as the Abati. Still, there is some evidence for political division. Some older families had long split into two lineages and divided between the two factions, like the Visdomini-della Tosa and the Buondelmonti-Scolari. Other magnate lineages in which family members played important roles in both the Guelf and the Ghibelline regimes in this period include the Cerchi, the Mannelli, the Nerli, the Pigli, the Pulci, and the Sachetti.42 The point is not that most families were publicly divided, but that men often found themselves faced, like Bocca degli Abati, with conflicting loyalties. From the perspec38

Les Registres d'Urbain IV, 363. Les Registres d'Urbain IV, 570; see D. Medici, in Raveggi et al., Gbibellini, Guelfi e Popolo Grasso, p. 202n. 40 The repudiation of their inheritance by the sons of Raynaldo in 1248 listed land in three rural parishes, including San Pietro al Varlungo and San Pietro in Palco; Documenti, ed. Santini, n, n. ci, p. 344. In 1260, Bate, a son of Raynaldo, acted as guarantor for those parishes and for the monastery of San Salvi: Libro di Montaperti, pp. 134, 154. Probably this meant that despite the loss of the inheritance, he was still an important landowner within the parish. For other Abati acting as guarantors, see pp. 130-31, 109, 158-59. 41 Inferno, canto xxxn, lines 73-123. 42 On the Visdomini-della Tosa and the Buondelmonti-Scolari, see chap. 4. For evidence of divided lineages, see the lists in Raveggi et al., Gbibellini, GueIfi e Popolo Grasso, pp. 70-72,162-64. 39

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tive of the lineage, unanimity was hard to maintain among a large group of kinsmen who inevitably had diverse interests. These tensions were exacerbated over time, for two reasons. The first was the growing size of most noble lineages. Founded in the late twelfth century, by the mid-thirteenth, they had expanded to the point that unity became more and more difficult to sustain. Second, the growth of insti­ tutions competing with the lineage for loyalty again worked against lin­ eage solidarity: a cloth merchant, for example, might begin to identify his primary interests with those of his fellow merchants and guildsmen. By the end of the thirteenth century, some men showed a deep ambivalence toward their lineage and its claims. One example is Schiatta degli Abati, who, as we saw, wrote a will that left his joint lineage property to his kinsmen, but at the same time included elaborate and distrustful penalty clauses to force them to carry out his wishes. Some were no longer even ambivalent: ser Neri Abati in 1304 personally put the torch to the houses of his Abati kinsmen.43 What are the implications for research into the Guelf and Ghibelline factions? The fact that they originated in neighborhood rivalries does not mean that the factions ultimately divided over narrow local issues rather than over more fundamental conflicts of interest. This is how contempo­ rary texts depicted these political struggles—as based on private vendet­ tas, family quarrels dressed up in political trappings. Some scholars have also tended to treat factionalism as motivated by local competition be­ tween lineages.44 However, the research of Raveggi and Tarassi has shown that although the factions began in local rivalries they evolved into parties with distinct interests and ideologies. The Florentine factions were not originally motivated by allegiance to the papal and imperial ideologies. Nevertheless, they formed against the unstable background of these larger political conflicts. The fluctuations of power were rapid: Florence between 1200 and 1250 alternated be­ tween imperial bans and papal interdicts. Gradually, then, factions that had begun in local conflicts became linked to larger issues and interests. Ironically, this step probably placed strains on the lineage. Kinsmen might all share enthusiasm for a vendetta intended to secure their place within their neighborhood. Some might hesitate, however, at extending that local enmity to an espousal of the Guelf or Ghibelline cause. What are the implications for study of the makeup of the factions them­ selves? First, it is important to recall that the Guelfs and Ghibellines were by no means modern political parties. Factions are not corporate groups, 43

Dino Compagni, Cronica, book 3, chap. 8. for example Jacques Heers, Parties and Political Life in the Medieval West (Am­ sterdam and New York, 1977), esp. p. 89. 44 See

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but rather ephemeral coalitions; allies are often recruited by a powerful leader, typically by drawing on a variety of relations, including kinship, clientage, religious ties, and shared economic interests.45 In medieval Florence, the factions were the coalescence of networks of alliances that were generally private and military in origin. Their ultimate origins were in neighborhood rivalries and the consequent defensive trea­ ties, like the surviving tower society pacts. Modeled on the lineage itself, they consolidated only in response to external threats. The factions de­ veloped more fixed structures and memberships only after they came to power, or after their opponents defeated and penalized them. There is an impressive study of the makeup of the two factions, based on the archival research of four historians, Raveggi, Tarassi, Medici, and Parenti. The study has two potential flaws. One, there is a tendency to overestimate the permanence of factional allegiances because they are only accessible in a few fixed lists. Second, there is also a tendency to assume that lineages shared political and economic interests, so that the makeup of the factions can be studied by working out which lineages chose which side. As we have seen, neither factions nor lineages were fixed, permanent entities acting with a unanimity of purpose. However, the study in fact avoids these failings because the meticulous archival methods of these scholars led them to track the changing shape of the factions and to trace internal divisions within lineages, though noting them as anomalous. The result, then, is a convincing portrait of the two factions. Raveggi and Tarassi found that the differences in the followings of the Guelf and Ghibelline parties were well defined by mid-century. The tra­ ditional elite of the Ghibelline party was drawn from the lineages listed by the Pseudo-Brunetto as Oddo Arrighi's allies: the Amidei, Uberti, Lamberti, Fifanti, and the counts of Gangalandi.46 These families did owe their titles and privileges to the emperor, and the relationship was strengthened in the 1240s, when Frederick II managed to install his ille­ gitimate son Frederick of Antioch as podesta: he rewarded his supporters, particularly the Uberti, with offices and estates.47 Interestingly, when the Ghibellines came to power in 1260, the aristocratic upper levels of the leadership of the party took little part in the government.48 Below this level, reconstructing the membership of the party is much 45 See Ralph W. Nicholas, "Factions: A Comparative Analysis," in Political Systems and the Distribution of Power, A.S.A. Monographs 2 (London, 1965), pp. 21-61. 46 The lineages that became the Ghibelline leadership are mentioned by the Pseudo-Brunetto, "Cronica," p. 235. Villani also listed the main families, Cronica, book 5, chap. 9; see Raveggi, Ghibellini, Guelfi e Popolo Grasso. 47 Davidsohn, Storia vol. 2, p. 452. 48 Raveggi, pp. 32—34.

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more difficult. A Florentine denunciation of Ghibellines exiled in Siena lists a few popolani, a few members of the rural aristocracy, one Scolari, one Gualterotti, nine Uberti, and eleven Lamberti.49 Raveggi has traced the composition of the Ghibelline governments between 1260 and 1266; he argues that many of these families were clientele of the leadership, or were motivated by enmity to leading Guelf families. The Strinati-Alfieri, for example, active in the government, as we have seen, were the tradi­ tional enemies of the della Tosa. In general, Raveggi argues that while the Ghibelline regime was an effort to return to past conditions—before the Primo Popolo—the majority of participants were not rentiers, but older merchant and banking houses like the Abati. Raveggi suggests, then, that the mature Ghibelline party of the 1260s was shaped by opposition to the economic innovations of the first popular regime. Another motive that has been suggested for Ghibellinism but that was not explored by Raveggi is disaffection from the institutional church. There are a number of intriguing references in the chronicles associating the Ghibellines with heresy. The Cathar heresy had attracted a following in Florence in the twelfth and early thirteenth centuries. The actual size of this movement is uncertain: the city contained a Cathar bishop, and the Dominican inquisitors, including St. Peter Martyr, in the 1240s were able to uncover a couple of houses where Cathar gatherings were held. Interestingly, the group formed by St. Peter Martyr to combat heresy may have taken the form of a military company.50 The real extent of the links between heresy and Ghibellinism is uncer­ tain for two reasons. The prosecution of heresy became embroiled in par­ tisan politics in the 1240s: two brothers, Pace and Barone del Barone, were condemned by the bishop for heresy while under the protection of the emperor; their sentence was annulled by the podesta as against the express orders of the emperor. The dispute culminated in an actual battle in the cemetary adjoining the cathedral. The podesta is thought to have been motivated by political and jurisdictional interests rather than by support of the heresy per se.51 The second reason for uncertainty concern­ ing the links between Catharism and the Ghibellines is that there were a number of postmortem condemnations of Ghibelline leaders following the final Guelf victory. Farinata degli Uberti himself was condemned for heresy after his death: his body was to be exhumed, burned, and the ashes 49 Raveggi

cites Capitoli, xxxv, cc. 4r and v. documents have been edited by F. Tocco: Quel cbe non c'e nella Divina Commedia, ο Dante e Veresia (Bologna, 1899), pp. 34-78. On the question of whether the Societa della Fede was paramilitary, see G. Meersseman, Ordo Fraternitatis (Rome, 1977), vol. 2, pp. 776-80. 51 On these events, see Davidsohn, Storia vol. 2, pp. 413—29. 50 The

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scattered, and his property confiscated and destroyed.52 Because of these condemnations, late thirteenth- and early fourteenth-century writers ret­ rospectively considered the early Ghibellines heretics. In sum, it is tempt­ ing to argue that a connection existed, but the evidence is weak. The Guelf elite, like the Ghibelline, tended to be landed nobility. The larger membership is first clearly revealed by the list of families exiled after the battle of Montaperti, in 1260. Raveggi has analyzed this list: he considers a third of the families consular aristocracy, the remainder, houses of fairly recent origins involved in commerce and banking. These were people who had done well in the preceding popular regime; he esti­ mates that at least half of them actually left Florence not because of loy­ alty to the Guelfs but from enmity toward the Ghibellines.53 The Guelf party found its ultimate shape after 1262, when papal inter­ ests placed financial pressures on the Florentine banks, successfully forc­ ing their members to ally themselves with the pope and to seek to under­ mine the Ghibelline regime. Among the banks allied with Urban IV were those of the Abati, Cerchi, Frescobaldi, Bardi, Scala-Mozzi-Spini, and Pulci-Rimbertini.54 Thus, as Massimo Tarassi points out, the list of Ghibellines exiled in 1268 reveals a distinct group that was left out. The ban­ ished included members of the old landed families and the consular aris­ tocracy, together with a large number drawn from the lower social levels of the popolo, particularly the arti minori—tavern keepers, shoemakers, coopers. The missing group was the wealthy new class, members of the large banks and merchant companies. This group in particular had taken up the opportunities offered by Clement IV and Charles of Anjou, and was substantially Guelf.55 Tarassi considers, then, that the Guelf party became more composite than the Ghibelline, including not only individuals from the older houses of the traditional aristocracy—Adimari, Cavalcanti, Buondelmonti, Donati, Pazzi, and so forth—but new men from the successful new banking houses, particularly the Mozzi, Spini, and Bardi. The Guelf regime dif­ fered from the Ghibelline in that the members of the arti maggiori partic52 Messer Bruno of the Uberti was also condemned after his death: Santa Maria degli Angeli, 18 raaggio 1285. On postmortem condemnations and confiscations for heresy, see H. C. Lea, "Confiscations for Heresy in the Middle Ages," English Historical Review 2 (1887): 252. 53 Raveggi, pp. 13—21. 54 Raveggi, p. 59. 55 M. Tarassi, "II regime Guelfo," Ghibellini, Guelfi e Popolo Grasso, pp. 75-164, is the best source for the composition of the Guelf regime, and includes a list of the lineages par­ ticipating in Guelf councils, the Peace of Cardinal Latino, and those listed in the Liber Extimationum. See also R. Caggese, "Sull'origine della Parte Guelfa e Ie sue relazioni col comune," Archivio storico italiano 5, no. 32 (1903): 265—309: Caggese refutes Salvemini's view of the party as originating with the societas militum.

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ipated on a more consistent basis. Many were families who had first taken part in government during the Primo Popolo. Still, Tarassi suggests, the government was dominated by the traditional leaders, drawn from the landed and the consular aristocracies. Thus while the Guelf and Ghibelline factions came to have distinct in­ terests and ideologies, they still had their roots in lineage-based neighbor­ hood rivalries. The unstable, volatile quality of these conflicts derived in part from tensions within the lineage itself. Kinsmen emphasized patrilin­ eal ties as a means of holding joint property and establishing a secure neighborhood base. This strategy depended on a unity of effort that was difficult to sustain because kinsmen often had diverse interests, and might be torn between their obligations to their lineage and other competing loyalties. This view does not imply that all patrician lineages sought wholeheart­ edly to dominate their neighbors; clearly not all families shared these as­ pirations equally.56 However, this pattern once established was probably self-perpetuating. The more a patrilineage acted in unity, the more it came to pin its hopes on neighborhood dominance and then on the Guelf and Ghibelline factions. This was because the patrilineages eliminated other options: members of the Uberti had little choice but to pursue Ghibellinism, and it is not surprising that after the failure of Ghibellinism and the loss of their lands and houses and place in the commune, some Uberti knights became mercenaries.

Violence and the Youth Culture Factional conflicts are not necessarily violent. Faction can be a reasonable course of action when institutional mechanisms for change or redress do not exist. Im medieval Italy, however, the violence and bitterness of fac­ tional conflicts were legendary.57 Men sought not just to dominate public offices but to extirpate their opponents from the city. Neri Strinati de­ scribed his family's house sacked twice in 1301. First their neighbors and enemies the della Tosa broke the long-standing peace between the two families and attacked and robbed the Strinati houses. Then "again in the same night the gang of the Medici came to our house, sent by Bernardino 56 The comparison with rural signorie is valuable in this context; see Wickham's discus­ sion of the amount of sustained effort the Guidi family expended in establishing a de facto signoria, The Mountains and the City, pp. 320—24. 57 On contemporary views of the two parties, see J. K. Hyde, "Contemporary Views on Faction and Civil Strife in Thirteenth and Fourteenth Century Italy," in Violence and Civil Disorder in Italian Cities, 1200—1500, ed. L. Martines (Berkeley, Calif., 1972), pp. 273— 307.

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di Uombono de' Medici, and stole what remained. ... I do not want to hold back the fact that they left the male and the female babies stripped naked in their cribs, and carried off their clothing and bedclothes, actions worse than anything done in Acre by the Saracens."58 Violence derived from the patrilineal culture itself, with its blend of public and private concerns. There was no clear line between personal and political enmity, between private vendetta and factional conflict. The factions never entirely moved away from their origins in neighborhood rivalries. The severity of punishment also perpetuated these factional wars. Following the Germanic tradition, the penalty for treachery or re­ bellion was exile.59 This existed in different degrees, including internal exile and confinement, but at worst meant not only expulsion from the commune but the loss of any legal protection: the exile was literally an outlaw, and could be robbed or killed at will. If he fell into the hands of officers of the commune, he was to be executed. He in fact was already considered dead. Citizenship and property rights were lost not only to the exile but to his descendants. Large numbers of men were involved in the collective expulsions of the factions: when Florence in 1323 declared an amnesty, four thousand ex­ iles responded.60 Many exiles of course used family connections and es­ tablished themselves in other cities, but there were also men who became bandits.61 Exiled political leaders had nothing to lose and everything to gain from making war on their city. As the chronicle of the Pseudo-Brunetto implies, it was a tragic irony that when the flower of Tuscan chiv­ alry died at the Battle of Campaldino, they were fighting on the Aretine side, against Florence.62 Another reason for the volatility of thirteenth-century Florentine poli58 "Ancora

in quella medesima notte ci venne in casa la masnada de' Medici, e mandolla Bernardino di Uombono de' Medici, e rubaro di quelle, che v'era rimaso. . . . E non voglio, che rimanga nella penna, che quella notte furono lasciati ignudi i fanciulli maschi e femmine in sul saccone, e portaron via la roba e' panni loro, che non fu fatto in Acri per Ii Saracini cosi fatte opere e pessime." Strinati, Cronichetta, p. 116. 59 Technically, factions were exiled ob partialitatis, literally, because of partiality. On ex­ ile, see D. Cavalca, Il bando nella prassi e nella dottrina giuridica medievale (Milan, 1978); R. Starn, Contrary Commonwealth: The Theme of Exile in Medieval and Renaissance Italy (Berkeley, Los Angeles, and London, 1982); and A. Mooney, "The Legal Ban in Florentine Statutory Law and the 'De Bannitis' of Nello da San Gimignano," Ph.D. diss. U.C.L.A., 1976. 60 Starn, p. 45. 61 Davidsohn, Storia vol. 4, pp. 304—7. On the "outrageous criminality" of banished no­ bles in the Bolognese contado, see S. Blanshei, "Crime and Law Enforcement in Medieval Bologna," Journal of Social History 16, no. 1 (Fall 1982): 121—38. 62 "Dalla parte delli Aretini furono morti molti nobilissimi e gentili valenti huomini, e quasi il fiore di tutta la migiiore gente di Toscana d'arme. . . . gentili huomini, i quali per c anni innanzi non s'arebono a uno tempo trovati." Pseudo-Brunetto Latini, Cronica, p. 135.

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tics is the tradition of prolonged male adolescence. Youths were not the cause of factional competition, which, as we have seen, was built into the social and political structure of the medieval city. However, the youth culture contributed to the violent form taken by that competition. This was true in two ways. First, the factions offered young men with poor prospects the hope of military and diplomatic careers. With victory, even military service for the commune was possible: some noble knights acted, for example, as paid captains of guard posts in the contado.63 The fac­ tions might enable a young man to win his fortune. One early case that can be documented concerns the sons of Rinaldo degli Abati who in 1248 lost their paternal inheritance in repayment of their mother's dowry.64 They held some rural property, but probably were not involved in the Abati banking. All of them became active Ghibelline partisans, and three served as consuls during the brief Ghibelline regime of the 1260s.65 Probably they saw Ghibellinism as a means of re­ storing their fortunes. Migliore even became famous as a courtier and poet; the Novellino describes him as a well-mannered knight who could sing and knew Provengal well. A novella depicts him visiting the Angevin court in Sicily, in order to ask King Charles to spare his Ghibelline house, and recounts his witty remarks at a dinner held in his honor.66 The clearest case is Dino Compagni's portrait of Baschiera della Tosa at the end of the century as a hotheaded young man who had been kept from wealth and office by the elders of his lineage and pursued a military career. The della Tosa lineage was a bitterly divided one; Compagni be­ lieved that Baschiera together with Bindo and Bilisardo sided with the Cerchi out of hatred for their kinsman Rosso, who had cheated them of their honors.67 Baschiera was the son of a Guelf knight killed at Campaldino, Compagni wrote, and "should have held offices in the city since he was a young man who deserved them; but he was deprived of them be­ cause the elders of his house took the offices and their income for them­ selves and did not share them. He was an ardent supporter of the Guelf Party; when the city turned around at messer Charles [of Valois's] arrival, he vigorously armed himself and fought his kinsmen and adversaries with nobles serving as paid captains, see Prowisioni, II, 52v, 55Γ~ν, 187v; III, 9V, 18 -,. case is Documents, ed. Santini, π, n. ci, pp. 344—46. 65 For the sons of Rinaldo serving as Ghibelline consuls, see Raveggi, p. 34n. The fourth son is in the Libro del Chiodo, Delizie degli eruditi toscani, VIII, p. 280. Two of these men, Bate and Fastello, served as guarantors for rural parishes provisioning the Florentine army at Montaperti, which suggests that they possessed property in the area: Libro di Montaperti, pp. 130-31, 134, 154, 158-59. 66 Il Novellino, LXXX. One of his poems is extant, "Si come il buono arciere e la battaglia," in Poeti del Duecento, ed. G. Contini, vol. 1, p. 375. 67 On the divisions within the della Tosa, see chap. 4. 63 For

64 The

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fire and sword, with the troop of infantry he had with him."68 These were Romagnole mercenary troops, and promptly abandoned Baschiera and his losing cause, instead going to the Palace of the Priors to demand their pay. Baschiera was exiled with the other White leaders. When Cardinal Niccolo of Prato in 1304 attempted a reconciliation of the factions and brought him home from exile, Baschiera was "greatly honored, and he honored messer Rosso in word and deed. The popolo took great hope from this," Compagni writes, as it appeared that the Whites and Ghibellines genuinely sought peace and reconciliation.69 The effort failed. When the Whites planned a secret military assault on the city, Baschiera, more or less the captain, was won over more by desire than by reason, just like a youth. Finding himself with a good troop and under strong pressure to act, he thought that he could win the prestige of victory and so swooped down on the city with his knights, so that they were in open view. And they should not have done this, for night was a better friend to them than day­ time—because of the day's heat, and because their friends would have gone to them by night from the city, and because they broke the terms of the agree­ ment with their friends.70

The attack was driven back, and Compagni believed that it was only be­ cause of Baschiera's giovanezza and his passionate mistake that they failed to regain the city. Compagni also tells us that Baschiera in his re­ treat "dashed into the monastery of San Domenico and took away by force two very rich nephews of his. . .. And God punished him for this."71 68 "Baschiera Tosinghi era uno giovane figliuolo di uno partigiano, cavaliere, nominato m. Bindo de Baschiera. . . . Questo Baschiera rimase doppo il padre: dovendo avere degli onori della citta, come giovane che Io meritava, ne era privato, perche i maggiori di casa sua prendevano Ii onori e Ii utili per Ioro e non Ii accumunavano. Costui acceso nell'animo di parte guelfa, quando la terra si volse nella venuta di m. Carlo, vigorosamente s'armo; e contro a'suoi consorti e aversari pugnava con fuoco e con ferri, con la compagnia de'fanti che aveva seco." Compagni, Cronica, book 2, chap. 24; Bornstein trans., p. 52. 69 "II Baschiera dalla Tosa fu anche molto onorato: e egli onoro m. Rosso in parole e in vista. E grande speranza riprese il popolo; perche i Bianchi e'Ghibellini si proposono lasciare menare a'Neri, e di consentire cid che domandavano, accio non avessino cagione di fuggire la pace." Cronica, book 3, chap. 7; Bornstein trans., p. 69. 70 "Ma il Baschiera, che era quasi capitano, vinto piu da volonta che da ragione, come giovane, vedendosi con bella gente e molto incalciato, credendosi guadagnare il pregio della vittoria, chind giu co'cavalieri alia terra, poi che scoperti si vedeano. E questo non dovean fare, perche la notte era Ioro piu arnica che'l di, si per Io calore del di, e si perche gli amici sarebbono iti a Ioro di notte della terra, e si perche ruppono il termine dato agli amici loro; i quali non si scopersono, perche non era l'ora determinata." Cronica, book 3, chap. 10; Bornstein trans., p. 73. 71 "II Baschiera si gitto nel munistero di Santo Domenico, e per forza ne trasse dua sua nipoti che erano molto ricche, e menollene seco. E pero Iddio gnene fece male." Cronica book 3, chap. 10; Bornstein trans., p. 74.

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Baschiera's two motives, his political and military ambitions and his re­ sentment of his kinsmen, are consistently interwoven. Compagni despite the mention of divine punishment does not tell us his ultimate fate. It is not surprising that some of these young knights later became mer­ cenaries. By the early fourteenth century, there is evidence of Florentine knights fighting for pay. Some, recruited by the Franzesi banking house, fought for Philip the Fair; others, one of them a Visdomini, worked for the Angevins in Naples. In 1309, some of the surviving Uberti, exiled leaders of the defeated Ghibellines, fought for pay for the Genoese.72 It is also the case that groups of idle young men, some of them trained in the military and most of them left with few responsibilities, were breed­ ing grounds for violence. Youths from particular lineages, together with friends and clients, formed brigate, or bands, perhaps even related to the societies described in Boncompagno's formulary. Dino Compagni re­ ferred to distinct brigate attached to major lineages, describing them as groups of youth who rode together.73 These bands were easily provoked to violence. When Dino Compagni explained why the Cerchi-Donati rivalry be­ came the civil war between Blacks and Whites, he blamed the escalation of violence on clashes between youth bands. First, a group of Cerchi youths, gathered in the courtyard of the podesta's palace to act as guar­ antors, were poisoned with a black pork pudding, and a few died. Corso Donati was widely blamed, though no proof was available. When mem­ bers of the two families met at a funeral, fightiilg was barely averted. Then hostilities began with a May Day clash between brigate that is more than a little reminiscent of Romeo and Juliet. The Donati youths at sup­ per together "reached such a pitch of arrogance that they determined to attack the brigata of the Cerchi."74 The group was composed not only of young Donati, but of "companions and followers," including Bardellino de Bardi and Piero Spini. Later that evening, the rival brigate met at the May Day dance in the Piazza Santa Trinita. The Donati attacked the Cerchi and a Donati adherent—probably Piero Spini—cut off Ricoverino de Cerchi's nose. The Donati band took refuge in the Spini palace, which fronted on the piazza. Compagni wrote that it was the clash between these youths that made the vendetta inescapable; youth, he tells us, is more apt to be deceived than old age. In fact, Compagni even violated chronological order to suggest that it was this bloodshed between youth bands at a dance that touched off the division of the city into factions. 72

See Davidsohn, Storia vol. 5, pp. 422-23. brigata di giovani che cavalcavano insieme." Cronica, book 1, chap. 22. 74 "[I] quali [giovani], ritrovandosi insieme a cena una sera di calendi maggio, montorono in tanta superbia, che pensorono scontrarsi nella brigata de'Cerchi e contro a Ioro usare Ie mani e i ferri." Cronica, book 1, chap. 22. 73 "Una

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Lineages used—and perhaps expended—their young men in pursuit of the vendetta. Two fragments surviving from the lost thirteenth-century court records may show youths directed to ambush family enemies. A portion of a trial record from the court of the sesto of Porte Domus re­ counts testimony concerning an ambush of two Adimari, father and son, by several members of the della Tosa. This was an episode in a long ven­ detta between two venerable lineages. The Adimari were probably de­ scended from Frankish lords, and the della Tosa a branch of the episcopal vicedomini.75 The ambush was public, taking place in the crowded center of the old city. Three della Tosa ran out of their house bearing knives and swords and other arms and attacked the two Adimari, stabbing them re­ peatedly. Several witnesses, including messer Nerlo de'Nerli, stated that messer Rosso della Tosa in fact ordered the attack. Riding a horse down the street, Rosso spotted the Adimari and turned back home to send the three men out to ambush them. Possibly the area was still to some degree controlled by the della Tosa and their allies, and the Adimari had ven­ tured onto enemy turf. Most of the witnesses testified that it was "publica vox et fama" that messer Rosso had ordered the attack. Another court record describes a similar attack, the ambush of Beccus di Bonaguida de'Bardi by the Mozzi. Both lineages were powerful bank­ ing houses with substantial properties in Oltrarno. The Mozzi had close financial ties to the papacy; Gregory X stayed as their guest in 1273. An­ drea di Spigliato di Cambio de'Mozzi, considered by Dante a sodomite, was bishop of Florence at the time.76 The assault was carried out by two men, a bastard son of Rucco di Cambio de'Mozzi named "Giacoptus"— probably the illegitimate cousin of the bishop—and a man called "Coginus," who was the servant of messer Vanni di messer Iacopo Lecchi de'Mozzi. The servant testified that he had been resting in the Mozzi courtyard one morning when Giacoptus angrily ordered that he get a horse and join him. The two men rode out to a certain road in a rural 75 The text is Diplomatico, Adespote-coperti di libri, 18 marzo 1293/4. The ages of the della Tosa attackers are of course problemmatic, though two of them, "Rossellinus filius domini Henrici" and "Baldus domini Talani," had living fathers; the third was "Odaldus quondam domini Canigiani." Baldus's father was dead by the end of 1301; see Diplomatico Riformagioni, 6 dicembre 1301. Rosso and Rossellino were almost certainly brothers; see Davidsohn, Storia vol. 4, p. 362. On the Adimari, see Stahl, Adel und Volk, pp. 65-67. On their origins, see Davidsohn, Storia vol. 1, pp. 535—38; and the doubts expressed by Fiumi, "Fioritura e decadenza," pp. 397, 402n. For the della Tosa feud and its resolution, see Villani, Cronica, book 8, chaps. 1 and 12. 76 The account is Diplomatico, Adespote-coperti di libri, 9—18 maggio 1292 (ultimo decembris 1272). For the Mozzi, see the quaderno catalogued as Diplomatico Archivio generale Appendice, 5 giugno 1271; the text is 4'. Andreaswas bishop from 1286 until 1295; for his checkered career, see Davidsohn, Storia vol. 3, pp. 599-606. Villani also mentioned this vendetta and its resolution: see Cronica, book 8, chaps. 1,12.

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parish. As Beccus de'Bardi rode by, Giaeoptus rushed up, knocked him off his horse, and hacked at him with a sword. Beccus survived with a crippled left hand. He must have been fairly young, as he was married five years later.77 There was suspicion that "some of the Mozzi lords" had ordered the attack, and the podesta questioned Coginus on this point. The servant denied it. It is clear that a bastard son of the house, trained in the military, lived with the lineage and apparently attacked the young Bardi on the urging or even on the orders of his kinsmen. The text does not include the decision of the court.78 In another case of a violent attack by a magnate bastard, Manfredino the son of Stoldo di Giacoppo de'Rossi was condemned for a 1284 assault with a sword on Neri degli Ubriachi. It is not clear that he did so at the instigation of his kinsmen.79 Noble youths were sometimes responsible for the violence against popolani that became a major motive for the Ordinances of Justice. Thir­ teenth-century notarial records often mention noble violence, most com­ monly through peace pacts reconciling former opponents. Pacts were routinely drawn up, even after fistfights and apparently regardless of the social positions of the participants. There is, for example, a 1292 pact between another contentious young Bardi, Neri di Symone di Iacopo de'Bardi, and a woman who was unmarried and perhaps herself illegiti­ mate, as she was identified only by a matronymic. The Sunday before, they had argued and come to blows "vacuis manibus" ("with empty hands").80 A few surviving court records vividly depict attacks on popolani. In one notorious episode, messer Simone Novello de' Donati was convicted of striking a popolano with a sword, publicly, in the piazza in front of San Pier Maggiore. The man later died from the wound, and Simone seems to have fled the city. The sentence of the podesta followed the Ordinances: if Simone ever came into the hands of the commune, he was to be decap­ itated; his property was destroyed and the men who had stood security for him as a magnate were liable for the full fine.81 Another case is less dramatic but perhaps more typical. It involved the Caponsacchi and the son of a prominent notary. In 1282, Dardo di Neri Berlingheri of the Caponsacchi was convicted of an assault on Ghino, the 77 Beccus's 78

79

marriage is Diplomatico, Riformagioni, 27 ottobre 1297.

Natural sons were explicitly punishable under the Ordinances of Justicice.

Davidsohn, Storia vol. 3, pp. 244—45. Archivio Notarile C 102, Illv. 81 The text is a record from the communal treasury: Diplomatico, Santa Maria degli Angeli, 31 gennaio 1294/5. Simone's guarantors were six men: two Donati, three Adimari, and messer Symon de Gioctis. Each was liable for more than 222 libre, a substantial sum. The podesta did admit their claims to Simone's confiscated and destroyed property, up to the amount they had lost. 80

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son of ser Lotto Formagi. Dardo led a gang of ten Caponsacchi, attacking Ghino in the Mercato Novo with a knife and other weapons, and injuring him in the head, kidneys, and shoulders. Dardo was condemned to the amount of 3,200 libre and went into exile.82 The accusation was made by the victim's father, suggesting that Ghino may have been a youth. Dardo was young as well: despite his banishment he made an advantageous mar­ riage to the daughter of Forese Ferrantini. In 1301 he had five sons and his father was still living.83 Dardo demonstrably was not forced into a prolonged adolescence, but the episode still suggests that magnate youths could be responsible for the violent attacks on popolani that became a rationale for the Ordinances of Justice. Violence and faction, then, were central to the culture of the medieval nobles. Their stress on honor and shame, their blurring of public and private interest, and the fact that they gave no primacy to civic loyalty all fostered factional wars. Nobles relied on the private military to establish themselves in their neighborhoods, and their relations with weaker neigh­ bors were marked not by patronage and reciprocity so much as by coer­ cion. Noble emphasis on patrilineal loyalty and cooperation also led to instability, sometimes straining relations by creating expectations that men could not easily fulfill. The factional wars were rooted in the com­ petition between lineages for control of their neighborhoods. These local contests led to larger alliances that gradually developed distinct, opposed ideologies and interests: the Guelf and Ghibelline parties. The violence of these conflicts derived in part from the patrician youth culture, young men apparently trained in the military but left with little employment un­ til the deaths of their fathers. Young men sought violent remedies not only out of frustrated expectations but simply out of idleness. We shall turn next to the reactions of the Florentine popolo to noble power and vio­ lence, and the imposition of the statutes. 82 On the Caponsacchi, see Raveggi et al., Ghibellini, Guelfi e Popolo Grasso, 34n., 36n., 63, 207n., 208. As a notary, ser Lottos belonged to an important guild. For a peace pact reconciling these two parties eighteen years later, see Notarile M 293 II, 22*. 83 See M 293 II, 18v. The case is mentioned by Davidsohn, Storia vol. 3, p. 244.

THE POPOLO AND THE ORDINANCES OF JUSTICE

HE MAGNATES came to be defined as a legal class only because of the growth of organized opposition to their power. From the late twelfth century, popular associations formed in opposition to the nobles. These groups came to view the city's instability as a conflict between magnati and popolani, thus creating those social categories. They then acted to restrain the magnates. The measures they imposed both defined the group of magnates and altered its social and political roles. This does not mean that the popular measures were always successful, or even that they were always carried out. Even the Ordinances of Justice were sometimes honored in the breach rather than the observance. How­ ever, the popular provisions do clearly reveal beliefs and intentions: the measures that popolani enacted to counteract the nobility were based on popular understanding of the nobles, their power, and its abuse. Further, despite sometimes lax enforcement, these popular measures did in fact restructure Florentine politics at the end of the Dugento. Several concerns run through all the measures. One was the need to put an end to the political instability and violence that disrupted the life of the city. The second was a preoccupation with the threat of physical in­ timidation, a fear of the military force of some noble families. This com­ bined with a sense of injustice, the sense that nobles committed crimes at will, defied the law, and escaped its penalties. To some degree, these con­ cerns were specific to different social groups within the popolo.

The Popolo to 1260 The first expressions of the social division between nobles and popolani date from the early thirteenth century. Scattered references suggest that the popolo gradually defined and organized themselves in opposition to the nobles, often in imitation of other communes. The initial form their organization took was military, the societas peditum, a society of foot soldiers balancing the society of knights. Evidence from other cities sug­ gests the power of this association as early as the mid-twelfth century. When Milan surrendered to Frederick Barbarossa in 1162, the consuls and representatives of the milites appeared first, then 300 milites, then, at

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Frederick's request, the pars peditum, roughly 1,000 foot soldiers with their own carroccio or battle wagon and standard, together with the stan­ dards of the city's neighborhoods.1 In Florence, popular opposition came clearly into focus with the orga­ nization that formed in 1244, during the tenure of Frederick of Antioch, and then came to power as the Primo Popolo in 1250.2 The provisions of the new government, the Primo Popolo, reveal their preoccupation with the military threat posed by some patrician lineages. The new regime challenged their power by setting up a popular military organization, in­ tended only for internal fighting.3 The city was divided into twenty com­ panies, called gonfaloni, with three or four per sesto. Davidsohn suggests that the companies were based on old lines of neighborhood organiza­ tion, but on a larger scale. Each company had an extravagant heraldric emblem—the green dragon, the black bull—and painted it on their ban­ ner and on each member's helmet and shield to enable them to rally to­ gether during a tumult. When conflict threatened, they were to keep their arms with them day and night. The men of the company were to assemble at the sound of a church bell. There was a substantial penalty for anyone preventing a popolano from joining his company; if a man dropped a stone from a building to this end, he was to lose a hand. Further provisions were designed to protect the popolani, and to pre­ vent them from aiding the nobles. During a conflict, no popolano was allowed to go to the house of a noble to take up arms for him. They were required, however, to protect and defend each other. If a member was attacked, he was to be aided by his entire company; if killed, they were bound to arrest the killer, or place him under perpetual ban. The office of capitano del popolo was designed to eliminate the need for a noble protector. The door of the captain's house was to remain open during business hours, so that popolani could freely come to him with their grievances and requests. He was charged with protecting them from violence, and guaranteeing punishment if they were attacked. He also had the power to intervene if the podesta condemned a popolano unfairly. The overwhelming concern expressed in the provisions of the Primo Popolo was the need to keep peace within the city walls. The provisions 1 See Koenig, "The Popolo of Northern Italy," chap. 4, sec. 4. For a recent discussion of the nature of the popolo, see the review essay by Pierre Racine: "Le 'popolo,' groupe sociale ou groupe de pression?" Nuova rivista storica 73, no. 1—2 (January—April 1989): 135—50. 2 On the evidence for the formation of a popular organization in 1244, see Davidsohn, Storia vol. 2, p. 411. My account of the Primo Popolo is based on Davidsohn, Storia vol. 2, pp. 506—17, and G. Masi, "II popolo a Firenze alia fine del Dugento," Archivio giuridico 99 (1928). The period is poorly documented, and Davidsohn in part relied on the better-known Bolognese model. 3 Waley, "Condotte," p. 74.

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challenged the internal military power of the nobles and provided the new government with the means of defense against an attempted coup. They also strengthened the internal police force. As William Bowsky has shown in a study of Siena, a number of overlapping troops of police existed. Because no distinction was made between the internal police and the mil­ itary, some of the city's police forces were bands of foreign mercenary foot soldiers, whose captain negotiated a deal with the city for a specified period. This meant that they had no special training or legal knowledge; and given the desperate insecurity of a mercenary's existence, they must often have been susceptible to corruption. Thus while the effect in Siena, and probably to a lesser degree in Florence, was a high ratio of police to population, this by no means implies that the city was policed well.4 Pop­ ular creation of a citizen militia was an effort to strengthen the power of the government to keep the peace. The actions of the Primo Popolo conjure up an image of simple artisans protecting themselves from their wealthy oppressors: class conflict. How­ ever, although the regime did encompass artisans, many of the popular houses in the period 1250-1260 were wealthy and powerful in their own right. A number of the families who were active in the Primo Popolo in fact came to be named as magnate forty years later. Their principal inter­ est was to stabilize the city and provide a better economic climate. Thus this initial manifestation of the division between nobles and popolani was a reaction against political violence and factionalism, and an effort to pacify the city. Significantly, the actions taken to restrain factionalism did not include direct restrictions on the nobles. The popolo instead estab­ lished neighborhood military organizations that could rival the noble lin­ eages. The popular party was substantially different in structure and interests from its opponents. The Guelf and Ghibelline factions varied in their ob­ jectives and interests but were probably similar in structure. These alli­ ances pursued power through the traditional networks of political asso­ ciation and private military strength. The popolo was founded instead in the corporate associations of neighborhood and guild, horizontal rather than vertical divisions.5 Thus while the memberships of the Guelf faction and the popular party overlapped, the two groups were brought together 4 William M. Bowsky, "The Medieval Commune and Internal Violence: Police Power and Public Safety in Siena, 1287—1355," American Historical Review 73 (1967): 1—17. The various troops of police in medieval Florence included the outsiders hired as the berrovieri of the podesta and the capitano del popolo, as well as the 600 Florentines serving as a paid night watch; see Davidsohn, Storia vol. 5, pp. 147—53, 276—83. 5 John Najemy discusses the corporate organization of the popolo in "Guild Republican­ ism in Trecento Florence," American Historical Review 84 (February 1979): 53—71.1 find his idea of the hierarchical structure of the lineage somewhat misleading.

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195

by different networks of association. This distinction cannot be pushed too hard: clearly, there were powerful new lineages like the Bardi which belonged to the popolo in 1250 but had private networks of alliance ri­ valing and in fact surpassing those of some older families. It is also true that many of these new lineages, like the Bardi, came to be classed as magnate in the 1290s. This structural difference was articulated by the Dominican preacher Fra Remigio de'Girolami in a sermon that was probably delivered in the 1280s. Fra Remigio analyzed Florentine society as troubled by three di­ visions: the division between Guelf and Ghibelline, between the magni and artifices, and between laymen and clerics. Because the sermon is un­ dated it is not clear that "magni" referred explicitly to the legal class of magnates; "artifices" could mean masters of the arts, including the greater guildsmen, as well as artisans. Fra Remigio described their differ­ ences. The Guelfs spoke evil of the Ghibellines because they would not give in. The Ghibellines said of the Guelfs that they wanted to expel their opponents from the city. The artifices spoke evil of the magni: they de­ voured the artifices, they committed treacherous acts, they retained the property of enemies. The magni in turn said of the artifices that they wanted to rule but they did not understand that they denigrated the city.6 For Fra Remigio, the Guelf-Ghibelline division was distinct from the split between magni and artifices. The guildsmen saw the magni as voracious oppressors and traitors, disloyal to the city; the magni viewed the guilds­ men as upstarts who in their ignorance acted to the detriment of their city. Only Christ himself, Fra Remigio concluded, could unite them.

The Early Statutes The Primo Popolo fell in 1260 to the Ghibelline alliance at the Battle of Montaperti. The ensuing Ghibelline regime in turn lasted only six years, 6 "Fracta est civitas magna in tres partes. Una fractio est quia Guelfi dicunt male de Ghibellinis quod non cedunt, et Ghibellini de Guelfis quod expellere eos volunt. Alia fractio est quia artifices dicunt male de magnis quod devorantur ab eis, quod proditiones commictunt, quod bona inimicorum defendunt, et huiusmodi, et e contrario magni de artificibus quod dominari volunt et nesciunt quod terram vituperant, et huiusmodi. Tertia fractio est inter clericos et religiosos et laycos, quia de laycis dicunt quod sunt proditores, quod usurarii, quod periuri, quod adulteri, quod raptores, et verum est de multis. Et e contra layci dicunt quod clerici sunt fornicarii, glutones, otiosi, quod religiosi raptores, vanagloriosi, et de aliquibus verum est." Quoted by Charles Davis in "An Early Florentine Political Theorist: Fra Remigio de'Girolami," Dante's Italy and Other Essays (Philadelphia, 1984), p. 204. Davis cites Biblioteca nazionale fiorentina, Manoscritti Conventi Soppressi, G.4.936, fol. 76". See also the discussion in J. K. Hyde, "Contemporary Views on Faction and Civil Strife in Thirteenth- and Fourteenth-Century Italy," Violence and Disorder in Italian Cities, 1200— 1500, pp. 283-84.

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until the final collapse of the Hohenstaufen cause at Benevento in 1266. With the Ghibelline collapse, a popular government formed, but was quickly supplanted by the Florentine Guelfs backed by Charles of Anjou. This Guelf regime remained in place for a decade, but was troubled from without by the exiled Ghibellines and their allies, and from within by new factional divisions within the Guelf leadership. Florentine instability con­ cerned the papacy, which had come to look to Florence as a bastion of Guelf power and some counterweight to the imperial ambitions of the Angevins. An initial peacemaking effort by Gregory X in 1273 was a di­ saster. In 1279, Nicholas III sent a legate, Cardinal Latino Malabranca, to pacify the city, reconcile the factions, and establish a stable govern­ ment. Cardinal Latino was able to offer amnesty to a group of exiled Ghibellines, bringing them home and arranging for some restitution of their property and payment of damages. He presided over a dramatic scene of reconciliation between the two parties, with the new peace reinforced by marriages arranged between former enemy lineages. To prevent new out­ bursts, the cardinal annulled factional alliances and societies and banned the festivals that celebrated partisan victories. Any other societies or as­ sociations formed among nobles or popolani were banned as a likely source of sedition.7 Early in 1280, the cardinal formed a new government, the Quattordici, based on a council of fourteen, drawn from both parties. This bipartisan regime lacked any solid power base, although the cardinal looked to the guilds to guarantee it.8 After the cardinal's departure, in the shifting po­ litical climate of 1281-1282, the government became more firmly an­ chored in the guilds, a change that was formalized in June of 1282 with the establishment of the Priorate.9 The formation of the Priorate marked the beginning of a remarkably creative decade in Florentine politics, a period in which Florentines ex­ perimented with new systems of guild-based representation in an effort not only to curb the factions and stabilize government but to challenge oligarchy. The underlying power struggle was no longer between mag­ nate and popolo but between the greater guilds—including international merchants, bankers, judges, and notaries—and the lesser guilds—repre7 The law explicitly bans any new "sotietates, colligationes aut convitationes" other than guilds. See Salvemini, Magnati e popolani, Appendice in, rub. vii, p. 327. 8 See Ottokar, Il comune, p. 5. The text of the guarantee is printed in Salvemini, Appendice hi, rub. vm, p. 328. 9 The best source for the formation and character of the guild regime is J. Najemy, Cor­ poratism and Consensus in Florentine Electoral Politics, 1280—1400 (Chapel Hill, N.C., 1982), chaps. 1 and 2. On the guilds themselves, see A. Doren, Le arti ftorentine, trans. G. B. Klein (Florence, 1940), chap. 1.

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senting local merchants, artisans, and professionals—which were just forming and sought a share of power.10 The Priorate in the decade was heavily dominated by the most powerful of the greater guilds, although a number of lesser guilds were at times able to break their oligarchy, obtain some legal recognition, and, in 1293, a brief share of power.11 The vari­ ous statutes that defined and restricted the magnates emerged from this contest between guildsmen. The laws differed in their focus depending on the social group behind them. The early statutes, enacted between 1280 and 1286, were primarily concerned with pacifying the city and putting an end to magnate feuds. The exact date and text of the original statute are unknown. It may have been sparked by the election in 1281 of a pro-Angevin pope, which pro­ voked rioting in the city. The first surviving mention is a rubric in the statutes of March 1281, which refers back to an original law. Though there is disagreement over whether the law dated from the time of Car­ dinal Latino or from the unstable period just after his departure, the na­ ture of the original statute is clear from the surviving rubric. It had estab­ lished that the magnates were required to post 2,000 libre as security against the possibility of their commission of a crime, and it had restricted their right to carry weaponry in the city.12 This first law stated the con­ cern that was central to all the statutes, the need to restrain noble vio­ lence. One clause in the 1281 laws was directly aimed at vendettas. The podesta was to compel citizens who were enemies because of an offense, whether old or recent, "to post security suitably guaranteeing not to in­ flict a greater injury or offense than the one which had been received . . . so that . . . nothing could be understood as an incitement to the ven­ detta."13 The law's purpose was explicitly to avoid the vendetta. The early laws stressed provisions restraining the military power of the magnates. There was strong interest in preventing magnates from assem­ bling an armed following, recalling the concerns of the Primo Popolo 10 The list of twenty-one guilds was only fixed in 1293; in 1282 they included "dozens of more or less organized corporate bodies, each aspiring to a political role." Najemy, Corpo­ ration and Consensus, p. 23. The greater guilds were the Calimala (international mer­ chants), Cambio (bankers), Lana (wool manufacturers), Giudici e Notai (lawyers and no­ taries), Por San Maria (retailers and small merchants), Medici e Speziali (doctors and druggists), and Vaiai e Pellicciai (furriers); Najemy, pp. 21—22. 11 Ottokar, pp. 17n—19n, found that 65 percent of the priors came from the Calimala, Cambio, and Giudici e Notai; see Najemy, p. 29, for a table summarizing his results. 12 See N. Rubinstein, "La prima legge sul sodamento a Firenze," Arcbivio storico italiano 2, no. 2 (1935): 161-72 and D. Cavalca, "II ceto magnatizio a Firenze dopo gli Ordinamenti di Giustizia," Rivista storica di diritto italiano 40-41 (1967—68): 85-91. 13 "[SJecurare idonee de non inferendo maiorem iniuriam vel offensam quam accepta fuerit. . . ita quod . . . nullus intelligat incitari ad vindictam." Salvemini, Appendice iv, rub.

VIII.

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thirty years before. In 1281, the Quattordici created a citizen militia of 1,000 men, assembling those "who are true and zealous lovers of the good and peaceful state of the city," with a certain number drawn from each sesto, as well as a standard bearer with the sesto's insignia.14 They took an oath to assemble at the sound of the campanile or another sum­ mons and to carry out the orders of the podesta or the capitano del popolo. When the militia assembled, "others of the city and all who are then in the city shall not gather with or without arms at the house or houses of others, particularly the powerful or magnates outside their own neigh­ borhood. And no others, particularly the powerful or magnates, shall make an assembly or gathering of armed men, who are not from their neighborhood, at their houses or in any other places."15 It is significant that the law did not prevent people from assembling at the house of a magnate within their own neighborhood. For these lawmakers, it was ap­ propriate for people to turn for protection to their magnate neighbors. The magnates then were not to attack others nor to leave their neighbor­ hoods (contrate) unless summoned by the government. Clearly, the intent was to maintain civic peace by giving the government some internal mil­ itary power and by preventing the magnates from assembling an armed band and then attacking their opponents. The Quattordici sought not only to create a police force but to build a sense of civic identity. The citizen militia was explicitly required to make use of a system of identification that in fact derived from the nobility: heraldric images. Popular use of heraldry in the militia had developed at least from the time of the Primo Popolo. The men were required to paint the insignia of their sesto on their shields, and each group included a stan­ dard bearer with a banner displaying the insignia. The Quattordici carefully spelled out the designs. All the banners were to replicate the form and colors of the carroccio of the commune, but with identifiable differences among the sesti. Oltrarno, Borgo, and Por San Pancrazio were to have white above and vermilion below, with the insignia on the white; the other three sesti were the reverse, red above, white below, and the insignia on the red. Each sesto had a specific image: Oltrarno displayed a red bridge, Borgo a black goat, San Pancrazio a red 14 "[M]ille boni et probi viri de ipsa civitate, qui revera sint amatores et zelatores boni et pacifici statu dicte civitatis." Salveraini, Appendice iv(a), rub. ix. 15 "Alii de civitate et omnes qui tunc in Civitate forent non trahant cum armis vel sine armis ad domum vel domos aliorum maxime Potentum sive Magnatum extra suam viciniam. Et nulli alii maxime Potentes vel Magnates faciant congregationem vel coadunationem hominum armatorum, qui non sint de vicinia sua, ad domos suas vel in aliquibus aliis locis." Salvemini Appendice iva, rub. ix, p. 343.

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lion's paw.16 The immediate purpose was to make the men easily identi­ fiable in a tumult. The emphasis on unified design suggests that the Quattordici also hoped to unite the localized, particulate loyalties of Dugento Florentines by building a strong visual association between neighborhood identity and insignia and the symbols of the authority of the commune. The priors sometimes wavered in their view of the magnates as the real source of discord in the city. A clause from the laws of July 1281 is re­ vealing. To paraphrase the text, it is directed against a group called hid­ den men of evil life, who had no profession or patrimony and who were to be found in taverns and often gambling. Some were thieves or even assassins. According to the law, these men hoped to disrupt the good and peaceful state of the Florentine city and countryside so that they would be able to rape and steal and commit other crimes. To this end, they en­ ticed others to violence, particularly the magnates and the powerful of both parties, drawing them on in hopes of fomenting "guerram et scan­ dalum." The city was to be cleansed of these troublemakers through their expulsion.17 The clause suggests the ambivalence of the greater guildsmen toward their magnate neighbors and associates. The nobles were not always at fault. They were volatile and easily drawn into violence, but not necessar­ ily ill-intentioned of themselves. They might be provoked by these agita­ tors who had no honest profession and lived off war and violence. Per­ haps the lawmakers imagined these criminals provoking a fight in a tavern between magnate youths, in hopes of instigating a feud and per­ haps even civil war. Thus the clause reinforces the idea of the patrician youth culture as a source of violence and instability. Who were these pro­ vocateurs, stirring up magnate youths? The overcrowded city and the countryside included a considerable number of men without permanent homes or employment, some of them thieves or highwaymen; the tone of the clause suggests that the lawmakers may have had unemployed mer­ cenaries in mind.18 Thus the initial laws restricting the magnates were a part of the efforts of the new Priorate to put an end to factionalism and pacify Florence. The 16 Salvemini,

Appendice iv(a), rub. IX; iv(b), rub. ill. devii et male conditionis et male vite et maxime non habentes artem vel patrimonium unde vivant, et utentes in tabernis et ludis et se exercentes in furando et alia mala committendo et maxime assessini, desiderant malum statum et subversionem boni et pacifici status civitatis et districtus Florentie; et ad hoc inducunt alios, si quos possunt, max­ ime Magnates et Potentes utriusque partis verbis ignominiosis et improperiis et instigationibus et aliis verbis et modis ad guerram et scandalum inductivis, ut ex hoc rapinare valeant et furare et alia mala committere. . . ." Salvemini, Appendice iv, rub. vi, p. 340. 18 Most mercenaries lived in one area, Borgo San Lorenzo. There is evidence that they sometimes acted as highwaymen; see Davidsohn, Storia vol. 5, pp. 426—27. Of course, the line between nobles and highwaymen also could be blurred. 17 "Homines

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early laws—expressing the interests of a narrow oligarchy of bankers, international merchants, and legal professionals—were primarily de­ signed to protect the magnates from each other and the city from their feuds. The laws suggest a relatively benign view of the roles of the mag­ nates within their neighborhoods, considering it legitimate, for example, for popolani at a time of civil disturbance to assemble at the house of a magnate neighbor. The statutes of Oaober 1286 include the endless oath required of the magnates, which runs for more than five pages in Salvemini's edition. They swore to uphold public order, to obey the law and the government and to do nothing to injure or dishonor the officers of the commune or their households. They would form no conspiracies, give no aid to exiled enemies of the commune, and harbor no criminals, including assassins, thieves, incendiaries, and murderers. If they held castles or rural territories, they would place them at the disposal of the officers of the commune if required; they would also uphold the law and hand over malefactors to civic justice. They would not carry offensive arms nor arm their servants and retainers.19 The emphasis was on peace and respect for civic authority. There was also mention of restraining magnate oppression of "the powerless." Dino Compagni wrote that this had been one of the purposes behind the creation of the Priorate: it was intended to protect communal property, to ensure equal justice, and "to protect the small and helpless from oppression by the great and powerful."20 This problem was ad­ dressed in October 1286. It was the special duty of the priors to ensure that no violence or injuries were done to guildsmen, to popolani, or to the weak of the city and contado, and in particular that the magnates did not injure them. The priors were also specially charged with the duty to end conflicts and bring about peace, including the duty to intervene in disputes between magnates and popolani.21 What was meant by the oppression of the little and powerless? Protec­ tion of property was the most apparent concern. If "quemlibet Potentem," literally "somebody powerful," damaged popolani property, then, if the owner desired, the "potentem" could be required to buy it at a just 19

Storia vol. 9, rub. c, pp. 365-71. Ioro legge in effeto furno, che avessino a guardare l'avere del Comune, e che Ie signorie facessino ragione a ciascuno, e che i piccoli e impotenti non fussino oppressati da'grandi e potenti." Compagni, vol. 1, p. 4. 21 See Salvemini, Appendice ix, rub. a, pp. 361-62. Ottokar, arguing for the homogeneity of the ruling class in the period, suggested that expressions of a social division between magnati and popolani dated only from the time of the Ordinances of Justice. The statutes of October 1286 were directed against the powerful and especially ("et maxime") the mag­ nates. The language of the statutes does not bear out his view: the priors were to act, for example, "ut Magnatibus oprimendi minores et impotentes omnino materia amputetur." See Ottokar, Il comune, p. 105n. 20 "Le

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price.22 In the provisions of 1284—1285, no magnate could buy a property or an undivided share, or acquire its title in any other way, including by purchase from creditors, without the consent of the property's consortum. A consortum usually meant a group of co-owners, but here it was defined more broadly: a consors was anyone with even a wall in common. Strictly enforced, this would have been very restrictive. One fear must have been that a magnate might buy into a block of property and then dominate it. This was in part a military concern, an attempt to avoid the old pattern of magnate lineages establishing territorial power bases within the city.23 The law also protected popolani from economic domi­ nation. Thus the statutes of the 1280s did address magnate oppression of po­ polani. The laws were created by an aristocratic regime, which, as Daniela Medici has shown, was dominated by powerful new Guelf families. The older aristocracy were also present in the regime but less influential, with seats in the communal councils rather than the Priorate itself.24 It was factional violence that threatened the regime, and it was against this form of violence that the statutes of the 1280s were primarily directed.

The Ordinances of Justice Popular antagonism toward the magnates grew in the 1280s. According to Dino Compagni, "the nobles and great and arrogant citizens did many injuries to the popolani, beating them and other villanies."25 Magnate violence and lawlessness were deeply resented. Villani in a memorable passage recounts an episode from 1287 in which "a great warrior and officer," Totto de Mazzinghi da Campi, was condemned to death for homicide. "And on the way to justice, messer Corso Donati with his fol­ lowers carried him off to the family by force. For this reason the podesta had the campana rung with a hammer: and all the good people of Flor­ ence armed themselves and went to the palace, some on horse and some on foot, shouting, 'justice, justice!' "26 22 Salvemini, Appendice ix, rub. b, p. 363. Both Ottokar and Salvemini pointed out that this law was directed against "the powerful," and not against the legal class of magnates. See Ottokar, p. 104. Another law forbade magnate acquisition of rights to the debts of popolani without the debtor's consent; Salvemini dated it to 1284, Ottokar to a decade later. See Ottokar, Il comune, pp. 106—7. 23 Salvemini, Appendice vn, pp. 356—57. 24 D. Medici, in Raveggi, et al., Ghibellini, Guelfi e Popolo Grasso, pp. 204—5. 25 "I nobili e grandi cittadini insuperbiti faceano molte ingiurie a'popolani, con batterli and con altre villanie." Compagni, Cronica, book 1, chap. 11. 26 "E andando alia giustizia, messer Corso de' Donati con suo seguito il voile torre alia famiglia per forza; per la qual cosa la detta podesta fece sonare la campana a martello: onde

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At the same time, the middle and lesser guilds gradually gained power, and it was these guilds that gave the popular movement its structure and objectives. Nine minor guilds were able to obtain legal rights in 1287 and 1289, including the right to military organization.27 Interestingly, as Patrizia Parenti points out, in 1292 four of the five middle guilds joined to form a single association, evidence of a corporate spirit that cut across narrow professional lines.28 By the early 1290s, political discontent had a number of immediate causes. The Priorate had betrayed its promise of greater citizen partici­ pation, and offices were still monopolized by a narrow oligarchy of mem­ bers of the greater guilds. The influence of the aristocratic Guelf party had grown. Resentment over exclusion from power combined with fears of renewed factional violence. Florentine citizens were also angered by a new reform of the treasury and tax structure, needed to finance the long and expensive anti-Ghibelline war with Pisa and Arezzo. The popular movement was fostered by a lack of outside intervention: Angevin influ­ ence weakened after the Sicilian Vespers, and the papal see was vacant from April of 1292. Ultimately, the popular movement, led by the char­ ismatic Giano della Bella, achieved reforms which for a short period broadened the base of Florentine government to include representatives of the lesser guilds.29 The Ordinances of Justice of 18 January 1293 both established the new government and curbed the magnates. The interests of the authors of the laws are best revealed by the new eligibility rule for candidates for the Signoria: the office was restricted to "the most prudent, the best qualified and the most law-abiding guild members of the city who are continuously engaged in the exercise of a profession or trade, and who are not knights."30 This was the first explicit political exclusion of the mag­ nates.31 Not only was guild membership a requirement for office in the s'armarono e trassono al palagio tutta la buona gente di Firenze, chi a cavallo e chi a pie, gridando giustizia, giustizia." Villani, Cronica, book 7, chap. 114. 27 These were the Vinattieri (wine retailers), Albergatori (innkeepers), Oliandoli e Pizzicagnoli (oil and cheese sellers), Galigai (tanners), Corazzai (armorers), Chiavaiuoli (iron­ workers), Correggiai (girdlemakers), Legnaiuoli (woodworkers), and Fornai (bakers). See Najemy, Corporatism and Consensus, p. 45n.; Parenti, in Raveggi et al., Gkibellini, Guelfi e Popolo Grasso, p. 247. 28 These were the Beccai (butchers), Calzolai (shoemakers), Fabbri (smiths), and Maestri di Pietra e di Legname (masters of stonework and wood); Parenti, p. 247. 29 On the debate over the exact makeup of the Priorate responsible for the Ordinances of Justice, see Parenti, Ghibellini, Guelfi e Popolo Grasso, pp. 245—48. She argues that the members were drawn from the "merchant middle class," and that there was further democ­ ratization over the next two years. Between mid-February 1293 and mid-February 1295, she argues, 44 percent of the priors were new. See pp. 252—56. 30 Quoted by Najemy, p. 47. 31 The new Priorate in the following months added rubrics barring the magnates from

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Priorate, but titled knights were ineligible. Further, as John Najemy has pointed out, the criterion of continuous exercise of a profession described not international bankers but men drawn from the middle and lower guilds—local merchants, shopkeepers, artisans. Unlike the earlier laws, the Ordinances expressed the views of the lesser guildsmen—bakers, shopkeepers, woodworkers—who had long been excluded from power. The Ordinances of Justice reiterated the concerns of the earlier statutes. The list of magnate houses was increased from about thirty-eight to sev­ enty-two in the city.32 Magnates could not seize popolani property (Or­ dinances, ix, p. 400), or buy into jointly held property without the con­ sent of the co-owners (x, p. 401), or purchase legal rights that could lead to the takeover of property without permission of the owner's consanguinei and consortes (xi, pp. 401-403). Actions were again taken to curb the military power of the magnate lineages, including extended provisions concerning the citizen militia. However, popolani now were expressly forbidden to flee to the house of a magnate in times of civil disturbance, under penalty of 200 libre (xxxm, p. 419). The Ordinances also included a provision designed to protect the prop­ erty not of popolani but of the church. Rights over the church were a crucial and often divisive element in shared lineage property. In the late thirteenth century, some magnate lineages squeezed their ecclesiastical rights, which resulted in a number of disputes. The lawmakers com­ mented that the use of church goods, especially by magnates, sometimes caused scandal and dissension. They provided that questions concerning magnate occupation or usurpation of the property of a monastery, church, or hospital could be resolved by the capitano del popolo. He had the power to hold inquiries, to force restitution of church property, and to punish offenders (xxm, p. 411). The major break with the earlier statutes was a new emphasis on phys­ ical violence, detailing special penalties for magnate attacks on popolani. These varied by degree of assault. The penalty for killing a man was death by decapitation and the destruction of the malefactor's property; if he fled, his guarantors were liable for the security they had promised but had rights to what was left of the property after its destruction up to the amount they had lost. Penalties declined according to the severity of the communal councils (the Council of 100, the Council of the People, and the guild consu­ lates). Later in 1293 it also decreed that no one ineligible for these councils could be elected to the Signoria, effectively barring the magnates from office. 32 The original text of the list is lost but was reconstructed by Salvemini from later sources. See Salvemini, Appendice ix, rub. f, pp. 375—77; because the appendix was not included in the new edition of Salvemini's work, I reprint the list in my appendix I. The Ordinances of Justice are printed by Salvemini, Appendice 12. Hereafter I will refer to the Ordinances (and to Salvemini's page numbers) parenthetically in the text.

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wound and whether the attacker was armed. An armed magnate who inflicted a crippling injury was to pay 2,000 libre within ten days or lose a hand. If he escaped communal justice, his property in the city was to be destroyed and his guarantors made liable, but his rural property was to be left undamaged to better enable the guarantors to recoup their loss. For an injury that did not result in permanent harm, the fine was 1,000 libre; if there was no blood shed, 500 libre; if the magnate attacker was unarmed, 300 libre (xn, p. 395). The revisions of 1295 mitigated the Ordinances by drawing distinc­ tions based on intention and premeditation. A magnate was subject to the death penalty only if he killed a man "studiose et premeditate." The re­ visions also distinguished between a leader and his accomplices: only the leader fell under the full penalty. He was to be named by the parenti of the dead, or, if they refused, by the podesta. The term parenti indicates not only patrilineal kin, the consanguinei, but a more loosely defined cir­ cle of relations. If the injury was not mortal, only two of the attackers fell under the Ordinances, the rest under the usual communal law. If a man escaped, his consortes were required to pay the penalty, unless they could turn him over to justice or could prove that there was mortal enmity be­ tween them.33 Interestingly, the Ordinances did not apply when popolani involved themselves in fights between magnates (vn, p.400). The special concern of the lower guildsmen thus was with magnate lawlessness, physical attacks on popolani. Magnate violence derived from a long tradition of reliance on private, lineage-based power. When dis­ putes arose they were quick to seek private remedies and private justice rather than turn to civic institutions. Some families exacted private justice into the fourteenth century: as we have seen, Dino Compagni accused the Bostichi.34 Further, the youth culture—the pattern of young men, often given military training, left idle until the deaths of their fathers—in par­ ticular fostered violence. The Ordinances thus expressed the frustration of men who had long had little recourse against noble attacks: they wanted justice. Although these laws describe a conflict between lower guildsmen and nobles, they hardly reveal a social revolution. Several chroniclers of the period described the priors as "buoni e possenti popolani": they were propertied men, interested in maintaining public order and in protecting themselves and their goods. Villani called the popular leader Giano della Bella "uno valente uomo, antico e nobile popolano, e ricco e possente."35 In other circumstances his ancestry would have qualified him for magnate 33 The

revisions are included by SaIvemini in the text of 1293, in his Appendix 12. Cronica, book 2, chap. 20; also see chap. 9. 35 Villani, Cronica, vm: 1. 34 Compagni,

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status. These prosperous men did not share the concerns of laborers and the poorer segments of the population. They were not interested, for ex­ ample, in protecting servants from the blows of their masters. "Since it often happens that lords and ladies punish their dependents and male and female servants because of their misdeeds and disobedience," if a servant complained against a magnate master, the case fell under the usual com­ munal law.36 In a contest between servant and master, the guildsmen were squarely on the side of the powerful. Some of the crimes addressed by the Ordinances were explicitly politi­ cal, an effort to prevent the magnates from undermining the regime. The laws penalized, for example, direct verbal attacks on the government by magnates. If a magnate "shall presume to speak or to display by some wrongful or intemperate words pride and arrogance against the podesta" or other officers while in their presence, the officers could exile him for as long as they chose.37 A number of the clauses in the Ordinances addressed the critical prob­ lem of enforcement. This had been the obvious difficulty since the initial statutes. It was one thing to pass stringent laws against the nobles, but quite another to find independent witnesses and officials and to ensure that the government itself was powerful enough to carry out their sen­ tences. The first measure taken to this end, in 1281 as in 1250, was the creation of the citizen militia. The statutes of October 1286 established that proof of a magnate offense required only the oath of the injured party and either one witness or proof of pubblicam famam.38 Soon after, concerns over enforceability were expressed in council: the statutes of 1286 "contained impossibilities" and were "dangerous, prejudicial, hard and intolerable."39 It was so difficult for magnates to find fideiussores, guarantors, that most had not been able to comply with the law. In re­ sponse, changes were made to lighten the burden on fideiussores and to clarify the statute: if a man posted security for himself, his father and brothers did not need to do so as well. There were strong measures to guarantee enforcement in the Ordi­ nances of Justice. An injured party was required to report the crime, or in the case of a death, the victim's relatives were so obligated (xn, p. 403). If popolani witnesses swore to the innocence of a magnate who was later convicted, they were liable for a penalty of 200 libre (xn, pp. 403—404). The requirements for proof were changed, in part to protect the mag36 "Cum multotiens contingat dominos et dominas suos scutiferos et famulos et famulas propter eorum culpas et inobedientiam castigare." Ordinances, VIII, p. 400. 37 "[p]resumpserit dicere vel proferere aliqua verba iniuriosa seu incontinentia superbiam et arrogantiam contra dominum Potestatem." Ordinances, xiv, p. 404. 38 Salvemini, Appendice IX, rub. b, p. 363. 39 Salvemini, Appendice ix, rub. e, pp. 373—74.

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nates. False accusations against magnates would be punished at the dis­ cretion of the government, after it had investigated the possibility that they were motivated by earlier oppression (xm, p. 404). In the revisions of 1295, proof of pubblica fama, public opinion, required three wit­ nesses, and none could come from the houses of the injured parties (vi, p. 397).40 Efforts were also made to force the government to take action against magnate offenders. The office of gonfaloniere di giustizia, standardbearer of justice, was created, and the officer charged with ensuring that the podesta and the capitano del popolo rendered justice to all and pro­ tected the peace. If a killing or a crippling injury was reported to the po­ desta and he took no action within five days, he was to lose his post; if the injury was less severe, he had eight days to act before his salary was docked 500 libre (vi, p. 397). If he failed to art at all, the defensor and the capitano were to step in or suffer the same penalties. If a magnate crime went unpunished, all the guildsmen were to close their shops, halt work, and take up arms to demand justice. Noncompliance was punish­ able with the substantial fine of 25 libre (vi, p. 398). In case of a major crime, the podesta and the gonfaloniere were to ring the campana with a hammer to summon the militia, who would destroy the malefactor's property while the gonfalonieri of the guilds and the guildsmen them­ selves remained armed and ready (vi, p. 399). Finally, a new prison was created especially for magnates, although it is not clear whether this was an effort at intimidation or a gesture of respect.41 The Ordinances of Justice were the solution of the lesser guildsmen to the problem of magnate violence and lawlessness. These laws and com­ parable ordinances in other cities mark a shift in conceptions of justice. In the earlier period, disputes or crimes were understood as personal and family matters, to be resolved through mediation between the parties in­ volved, and perhaps through compromise. The goal of the process was the restoration of peace. The statutes agianst the nobles, beginning with the Bolognese model, marked a change: crime was perceived as a chal­ lenge to the common good, to be punished through a system of imper­ sonal justice. Legal anthropologists have argued that this is a more gen­ eral pattern, and that this shift coincides with the rise of the organized state: rulers assert their authority through the imposition of justice. The 40 In fact, enforcement was lax, and the severity of the Ordinances was always tempered in practice. Marvin Becker has shown how often magnates were allowed exemptions and privileges, and thus escaped the full weight of the Ordinances. See Μ. B. Becker, "A Study in Political Failure: The Florentine Magnates, 1280-1343," Mediaeval Studies 27 (1965): 246-308. 41 See Davidsohn, Storia vol. 3, pp. 648-49. The document is printed by Pampaloni, Firenze ai tempi di Dante, p. 47.

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old system was one of justice by composition, stressing reconciliation and the avoidance of the vendetta. The new system offered impersonal justice and deterrence rather than reconciliation, based on a fixed system of pen­ alties. The decision was no longer made by the people actually involved, often the victim or the victim's heirs, but imposed by the authorities. The change was hardly absolute, of course, and elements of the older system continued, as when the victim's family was allowed to name the ringlead­ ers to be punished for an attack. Nevertheless, under the Florentine Or­ dinances penalties were to be exacted regardless of any peace pact: the purpose was justice rather than reconciliation.42 This underscores the point that the statutes directly bolstered the authority of the commune. The Ordinances should be seen in the context of the difficulties of maintaining control over a city that was essentially ungovernable. The population of Florence had shot up to close to 100,000 by the 1290s. The communal government had only the most meager resources to govern a city of this size, and ruled as much by symbolic action as through real power. The magnates were the most visible symbol of urban anarchy, and the laws restricting them an expression of civic authority. The Ordinances were a part of the process that included the acquisition and display of the city's animal mascot, the construction of a huge new palace to house the city's government, and the building of the new prisons.43 All these actions were symbols of the new power vested in institutions.

The Magnates The laws that defined the magnates emerged from distinct political cir­ cumstances and served clear political ends. Their purpose was not only to restrain noble violence but to legitimate political change. The lawmakers in defining the magnates defined themselves: the magnates pursued fac­ tion and private interest, whereas the guild-based regimes, by implication, pursued public order and the common good. The rhetoric in the laws stressed peace and justice.44 This does not mean that the lawmakers were 42 On this view, see R. I. Moore, The Formation of a Persecuting Society, esp. pp. 108— 110. He cites Roberts, Order and Dispute: An Introduction to Legal Anthropology (Harmondsworth, 1979), pp. 115—53. My discussion is based on the analysis of statutes directed against the nobles in Bologna by Sarah Blanshei, "Criminal Law and Politics in Medieval Bologna." Criminal Justice History 2 (1981): 1—30. 43 R. Trexler discusses the importance of ritual and symbol to Florentine public authority in Public Life in Renaissance Florence (New York: 1980). On the city's lion mascot, see Villani, "Cronica," book 6, chap. 69. 44 The Ordinances, for example, were imposed "ad veram et perpetuam concordiam et unionem conservationem et augmentum pacifici et tranquilli status artificum et Artium et omnium Popularium et etiam totius Comunis et civitatis et districtus Florentiae," and in-

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not sincere in their challenge to the nobility. It does mean that the laws are not an objective analysis of noble culture, but were shaped by their authors' concerns. Two factors are particularly important: the lawmak­ ers' political motives and their historical memories. These factors directly influenced the 1293-1295 list of magnates in the Ordinances of Justice. Most scholars have identified the list of restricted houses with the social category of magnate. Research then has quite nat­ urally taken the form of comparing the magnates on the list with other houses left off the list. The difficulty is that the list is not an ideal repre­ sentation of the social category. The list was inevitably a political com­ promise, hammered out by large governing councils. Some houses were not listed because of their immediate political alliances, and may well have resembled other lineages that were named as magnate. Conversely, there was considerable tendency to name houses that had already fallen from power, and no longer threatened the commune; for one thing, their weakness made them a safe target. The political nature of the list makes it an imperfect representation of the social category of magnate. The fact that the Bardi made the list and the Peruzzi did not was probably a matter of historical accident, and does not indicate any profound difference be­ tween the two houses.45 The list was a retrospective one. The lawmakers looked back even to the early decades of the century, and named the families they believed had threatened public order. In general, most houses named as magnate had belonged to the older elite, and many were lineages that had dominated Florentine politics since the late twelfth century. These houses derived from ancestors who had held communal offices in the consular period.46 In short, the list penalized old enemies. This retrospective quality is ap­ parent in the statute defining the magnates: a lineage was explicitly in­ cluded if it had contained a knight twenty years before. Men must have named some houses because they remembered that their fathers and grandfathers had feared and hated them. Again, many of these lineages had faded in importance by the 1280s and 1290s, and were named for their past and not their present power. Of course, Florentines in the 1290s did not always know which families really derived from the consular aristocracy. It is telling that the problem tended explicitly "pro necessaria causa er utilitate rei publice evidenti, nec non pro vere Iustitie observatione." Ordinances, pp. 384—85. 45 Giotto dei Peruzzi after all served as prior in the period. For the most recent analysis of the composition of the regime in the years of Giano della Bella, see Parenti's chapter in Ghibellini, Guelfi e Popolo Grasso, pp. 241—62, and the list of families represented, pp. 322-26. 46 This is apparently the view argued by E. Roon-Bassermann in Vierteljahrschift f. socialund Wirtschaftgeschicte, vol. 53 (1966).

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held a snobbish fascination for them: when Dante was allowed to speak with his ancestor in Paradise, this is the rather incongruous question he asked. In effect, the list included the families that Florentine lawmakers in the 1290s remembered as consular aristocracy. The older lineages were joined by new families. Ironically, many of these had first come to power with the Primo Popolo. Others had held offices in the Guelf and Ghibelline regimes. Many included merchants and bankers; the group encompassed some of the most prominent of Flor­ entine guildsmen. They were considered magnate for two reasons. The first was their political involvement in past regimes, including not only the Guelf and Ghibelline leadership but the Priorate of the 1280s; some were seen as implicated in the unpopular war with Pisa and Arezzo. Fun­ damentally, however—as every scholar since Salvemini has pointed out— in the eyes of the Florentine lawmakers they had adopted magnate cul­ ture. This rather than economic interests per se distinguished these fami­ lies from wealthy popolani. The lawmakers believed that these two groups could be classed to­ gether because they shared a similar pattern. The argument I have pro­ posed is that they were set apart by a distinct political culture, a culture developed by the nobles from the late twelfth century, and a culture that was becoming an anachronism by the 1290s. It centered on the use of the patrilineage as a means of encouraging cooperation in the possession of joint strategic properties: urban forts and residential properties, rights over the church, networks of clients and lineage alliances. The magnate houses also emphasized the military, not only in their construction of ur­ ban towers but in their adoption of knighthood, both as a matter of mil­ itary training and practice and as a matter of aristocratic style. Effectively, then, magnate culture consisted of strategies to build and maintain family power within the city. This does not mean that the magnates were simply those families that had surnames and acted as lineages. That was quite obviously not the case: grandi popolani shared many of these attributes, and persisted in them for centuries. Instead, the group of families named as magnates rep­ resented an older elite that used lineage ties in a distinctive political and military culture. The provisions against the magnates portrayed two cru­ cial aspects of that culture. First, the laws established by the priors in the 1280s treated the magnates as a social group that disrupted the city with the vendetta and factional strife. As we have seen, this charge had a real basis in the patrilineal strategy itself. The characteristic blend of public and private meant that family quarrels easily escalated into factional con­ flict. Further, the patrilineage rested on an unstable base: the exclusion of women and the prolongation of male adolescence created internal ten­ sions that could erupt into conflict. And over time, the patrilineal empha-

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sis on unity of action created internal tensions because families demanded unanimity from kinsmen whose interests were often disparate. Thus the provisions against magnate vendettas and factional violence reflected problems inherent within this aggressive use of the ties of kinship. The second aspect of magnate culture, repeatedly expressed in the pro­ visions of the Primo Popolo and above all in the Ordinances of Justice, was their use of physical force and intimidation against popolani. Again, the Ordinances expressed the concerns not only of bankers and interna­ tional merchants but of the lesser guildsmen, artisans and local mer­ chants. For these men, the critical problem with the magnates was their use of violence against popolani. This charge was rooted not only in mag­ nate disregard for civic law but in their strategems to build and maintain power. As we have seen, the evidence for their establishment of elaborate systems of clientage in the late twelfth and thirteenth centuries is weak, though perhaps those systems existed. The evidence for their use of urban forts, private troops, and even private justice to dominate their neighbors is strong. Thus the Ordinances were directed against a social group which—like the rural nobility—in part based its power on private force and physical intimidation. By the time of the Ordinances of Justice, the power of these families was eroding. Many had suffered exile and the loss of property in factional wars. More important, the rise of the guilds and strengthened civic insti­ tutions had rendered older lineage-based strategies less effective. In the 1290s, when the magnates were defined as a legal class, their shared pat­ rilineal, military culture no longer enabled them to dominate Florence. Of course, some of the houses named as magnates were very powerful in the 1290s. They tended, however, to be recent banking houses like the Cerchi, magnati per accidente. Their power ultimately derived from their wealth and connections; when they adopted magnate culture, family tow­ ers and knighthood, it was as a source of status rather than of power. Again, it is important to recognize that the magnates were defined as a legal class by the popolo. Until the imposition of the statutes, the nobles did not view themselves as a group with shared concerns. In fact, not only were they defined by the popolo, they were defined in terms of their rela­ tionship to the popolo. To the popolo, the magnates were a failed nobil­ ity, a dysfunctional social order. They disobeyed the law, used violent remedies, oppressed the weak and the poor, threatened the common good. In effect, the guildsmen analyzed contemporary events as a conflict between two social groups, popolo and magnate, weak and powerful, and accordingly enacted laws that restrained the powerful. The social and legal category of magnates was created by the popolo, and an expression of their interests.

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Ultimately, then, the statutes restricting the magnates served to define and to build the authority of the new regime. The laws did attack the older structure of private power, the structure that had led to decades of factional war. They also served to distance the Priorate from those con­ flicts, and from the violent excesses of the nobles. It is ironic that the statutes also gave the nobles a new sense of shared identity. The magnates—a group defined by their violent feuds and divi­ sions—found for the moment a common interest and a common enemy. Dino Compagni in the first book of his chronicle described the magnates conspiring to bring down Giano della Bella and the popolo and to reclaim their old prerogatives. They held a council, he writes, in San Iacopo Oltrarno. The speech Compagni attributes to Berto Frescobaldi vividly ex­ presses Compagni's sense of magnate arrogance, lawlessness, and vio­ lence. "He spoke of how these dogs of the popolo had stripped them of honors and offices, and how they did not dare to enter the public palace and could not press their suits. 'If we beat one of our servants we are undone. And therefore, lords, I recommend that we escape from this ser­ vitude. Let us take arms and run to the piazza. Let us kill as many of the popolo as we find, whether friends or enemies, so that never again shall we or our sons be subjugated to them.' "47 The magnates chose instead to heed the cautious advice of Baldo della Tosa and exploit political divi­ sions within the popolo, spreading rumors of a Ghibelline threat to divide the popolo and discredit Giano della Bella. These efforts met with imme­ diate success, Compagni implies, but magnate unity was equally fragile. They too soon split apart along familiar, vertical lines to form the Black and White factions. 47

"Poi si raunorono uno per casa; e fu dicitore m. Berto Frescobaldi, e disse, 'come i cani del popolo aveano tolti Ioro gli onori e gli ufici; e non s'osavano intrare in palagio: i Ioro piati non possono sollecitare; se battiamo uno nostro fante, siamo disfatti. E pertanto, signori, io consiglio che noi usciamo di questa servitu. Prendiamo l'arme, e corriamo in sulla piazza: uccidiamo amici e nemici, di popolo, quanti noi ne troviamo, sicche gia mai noi ne nostri figliuoli non siano da Ioro soggiogati.' " Compagni, Cronica book 1, chap. 15; Bornstein trans., p. 17. Del Lungo in his notes to his edition of the Cronica argues that the speech must have taken place before the revisions of early 1295 made an exception for beating servants; see Cronica, ed. del Lungo, p. 65n.

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HE STATUTES directed against the magnates implicitly ques­ tioned the social justification of their status. If the nobles acted not as society's protectors but rather as a threat to public order then in what sense could they be considered noble? What legitimated their privilege? This challenge to the justification of the noble status raised a number of problems. The first was a political question, a problem of social anal­ ysis. As we have seen, the thirteenth-century Florentines believed that many of the problems of their society were caused by the magnates. How­ ever, if the nobles or magnates were not a social group defined by legiti­ mate privilege, then who were they? What did define the group? As we have seen, the lawmakers struggled to find an adequate definition, and their criteria included knighthood, violence and faction, and public knowledge. The second was a philosophical question. If the social group tradition­ ally considered the nobles had no legitimacy, then was there such a thing as true nobility, and, if so, what was it? This problem of the nature of true nobility troubled late thirteenth- and early fourteenth-century Flor­ entines, including Brunetto Latini, the poets of the dolce stil novo, and Dante. By what right did some men hold noble titles and prerogatives? Was nobility based on inherited wealth and honors, on the professional military, on an aristocratic style of behavior? Most important, what was the relationship between nobility and moral character?1 Thus the chal­ lenge to noble prerogatives in the statutes was accompanied by philo­ sophic and literary discussion of the justification of noble status. Florentine discussions of nobility drew on a long philosophical and lit­ erary tradition. Before turning to Brunetto and Dante, it is critical to re­ view their sources, including the texts that formed the basis of discussion in Aristotle and St. Thomas, and the ideas about nobility developed in 1 Scholars have suggested that the late thirteenth century saw an important discussion of the definition of nobility, in which true nobility came to be equated not with birth or wealth but with virtue. See Charles T. Davis, "Brunetto Latini and Dante," Studi medievali 3, no. 8 (1967): 421—50; reprinted with revisions in his Dante's Italy, chap. 7. See also Maria Corti, "Le fonti del 'Fiore di virtu' e la teoria della nobilta nel Duecento," Giornale storico delta letteratura italiana, 136 (1959): 1-82, and Salvemini, "Florence in the Time of Dante," Speculum 9 (1936): 317-226.

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medieval moral philosophy and literature. There was a well-established, sophisticated medieval tradition that stressed the malleability of human nature; this was developed in all literary genres but more fully expressed in courtly poetry. In a sense, these philosophic and literary strands came together in the ideal of gentilezza expressed by Guido Guinizelli and fully developed by Dante.

The Sources The Aristotelian and scholastic positions on the question were based on a recognition of the difference between the social designation of nobility and true nobility. The text that provoked scholastic commentary on no­ bility was the section in the Politics in which Aristotle justified slavery. There were, Aristotle argued, real differences in men, so that some by nature were suited to labor and some to rule. He distinguished between slavery by nature and slavery by law, suggesting that the superior in virtue should be master, and not the superior in force. In practice, however, men have made the position of ruler hereditary. "What does this mean but that they distinguish freedom and slavery, noble and humble birth, by the two principles of good and evil? They think that as men and animals beget men and animals, so from good men a good man springs. But this is what nature, though she may intend it, cannot always accomplish."2 In princi­ ple, nobles are good and nobility of birth is justified by the fact that their good qualities are hereditary; in practice, this is not always the case. Aristotle also explicitly equated nobility and virtue in the Eudemian Ethics, in the course of his argument that the proper end of human life is the good. "A man is noble and good," Aristotle wrote, "because those goods which are noble are possessed by him for themselves, and because he practices the noble and for its own sake, the noble being the virtues and the acts that proceed from virtue."3 It is against this background that Aristotle's recommendation of aris­ tocratic forms of government should be understood. In a true aristocracy, offices are distributed according to merit, "for the principle of an aristoc­ racy is virtue. In the perversion of aristocracy, oligarchy, the principle is 2 Aristotle, Politica, trans. B. Jowett, in The Works of Aristotle, ed. D. W. Ross, vol. 10 (Oxford, 1921): I 6 1255a-b. 3 Aristotle, Ethica Eudemia, trans. J. Solomon, in Works, vol. 9 (Oxford, 1915): VII 15 1248b. There is a similar discussion of noble actions in the Nichomachaean Ethics, 1 9, 1099a. On this question, see W.F.R. Hardie, Aristotle's Ethical Theory (Oxford, 1980), chap. 7 on virtue, and D. W. Ross, Aristotle (London and New York, 1923), p. 253 on the justice of the claims of an aristocracy in Aristotle's view.

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wealth.4 He also pragmatically suggests that "the rich already possess the external advantages the want of which is a temptation to crime, and hence they are called noblemen and gentlemen."5 Virtue per se may not always be inherited, but inherited wealth makes it easier to practice. In effect, then, the equation of virtue and true nobility is the foundation of Aristotle's view. Aristocracy in this view is an ideal type, men who combine virtue and wealth—and who can pass both their property and their virtuous qualities on to their children. But without virtue, they cer­ tainly are not noble. As D. W. Ross has suggested, Aristotle espoused the sanguine view that "Virtue is the spring from which good activity flows, pleasure its natural accompaniment, and prosperity its normal precondi­ tion": in effect, the inherent justice of the social order.6 Thomas Aquinas, commenting on the text on inherited nobility in the discussion of slavery in the Politics, reported this theory of nobility clearly. [Aristotle] says that those who take this view appear to say nothing other than that freedom and slavery, nobility and ignobility, are determined by virtue of character: so that those who are virtuous in character are free and nobles, while those who are flawed are slaves and ignoble. . .. And this is because men think it fitting that just as one man begets another,. . . so from a good man another good man is begotten; and in this manner the honors of nobility pass on, when the sons of good men are honored and in fact equal to their fathers in goodness.7

It should be noted, again, that Thomas and Aristotle reported this as the common view, not necessarily as the true one. Did Thomas consider this theory correct? He wrote that it has some validity: "Natura habet inclinationem ad hoc faciendum." Many physical qualities are passed from father to children, including beauty and forti­ tude, "but because of some impediment nature cannot always do this: and sometimes from parents well disposed to virtue are born ill disposed sons, just as ugly children come from attractive parents, and small from 4

Politica IV 8 1294a. Politica IV 8 1293b. 6 D. W. Ross, Aristotle, p. 192. 7 "Et dicit quod illi qui hoc dicunt nichil aliud dicere videntur quam quod libertas et servitus, nobilitas et ignobilitas, determinantur virtute mentis; ita quod illi qui sunt virtuosi secundum mentem sint liberi et nobiles qui autem sunt vitiosi sunt servi et ignobiles . . . Et hoc ideo quia homines reputant dignum quod, sicut ex homine generatur homo et ex bestiis bestia, ita ex bonis viris generatur bonus vir; et inde processit honor nobilitatis, dum filii bonorum honorati sunt tanquam similes patribus in bonitate." Thomas Aquinas, Sententia Libri Politicorum, Opera Omnia (Rome, 1971), I iv 1255a. 5

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large."8 It is interesting that Thomas considered the idea of inherited no­ bility to be a problem of genetics: he was probably referring to the idea that the body is composed of four humors or complexiones, and that these influence temperament.9 The question then is whether an individ­ ual's particular makeup is inherited. Up to this point Thomas followed the Aristotelian text closely. He went on, however, to stress the importance of nurture as well as nature in mak­ ing a virtuous man: "It happens that men who are similar to their parents in natural disposition are still dissimilar in practice because of other teaching and custom."10 This notion that virtue—and therefore nobil­ ity—could be acquired was an important feature of twelfth- and thir­ teenth-century discussions of the problem. In sum, Thomas thought that true nobility is a matter of virtue. In so­ ciety, however, the honors of nobility are passed from father to son. This practice is based on the theory that virtue, and thus true nobility, can be inherited like height or beauty. Thomas considered this theory to be only partially correct for two reasons: virtue is not always inherited, although nature tends to act that way, and moral character is shaped by teaching and custom as well as by nature. "Therefore," Thomas writes, "if the sons of good parents are good, they are nobles both according to general opin­ ion and according to the truth of the thing; if however they are evil, they are nobles according to general opinion but ignoble according to the truth."11 These texts have been cited at length for several reasons. The distinc­ tion between the inherited honors of noblemen and true nobility underlay 8 "Et verum est quod natura habet inclinationem ad hoc faciendum. Provenit enim ex bona corporis complexione et natura quod aliqui inclinantur magis vel minus ad opera virtutum vel vitiorum, sicut aliqui naturaliter sunt iracundi et aliqui mansueti. Et hec quidem natura corporalis a patre derivatur ad posteros ut in pluribus sicut et alie dispositiones corporales, puta pulchritudo, fortitudo et alia huiusmodi, set propter aliquod impedimentum quandoque deficit; et ideo ex bonis parentibus nascuntur muitotiens boni filii, set propter aliquod impedimentum non potest natura semper hoc facere: et ideo quandoque ex paren­ tibus bene dispositis ad virtutem oriuntur filii male dispositi, sicut ex parentibus pulchris turpes filii, et ex magnis parvi." Aquinas, Setitentia Libri Politicorum: I iv 1255a. 9 On the theory of the four humors, see N. H. Steneck, Science and Creation tn the Middle Ages (Notre Dame, Ind., 1976), pp. 124—26, and D. Herlihy, "Some Psychological and Social Roots of Violence in the Tuscan Cities," Violence and Disorder in Italian Cities, 1200—1500, ed. L. Martines (Berkeley, Calif., 1972), pp. 132-34. 10 "Contigit quod homines qui sunt similes parentibus in dispositione naturali, propter aliam instructionem et consuetudinem sunt etiam in moribus dissimiles." Sententia Libri Politicorum: I iv 1255a. 11 "Si igitur bonorum parentum filii sint boni, erunt nobiles et secundum opinionem et secundum veritatem; si autem sint mali, erunt nobiles secundum opinionem, ignobiles autem secundum rei veritatem. E contrario autem est de filiis malorum." Sententia Libri Poli­ ticorum: I iv 1255a.

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the whole discussion, as did the equation of true nobility with virtue. As we shall see, Dante also appreciated this distinction—and Aristotle's point. In fact, as E. R. Curtius has pointed out, the true nobility of the soul was a topos of classical rhetoric and became a medieval common­ place. "At the same time," Curtius tells us, "the rhetor Anaximenes rec­ ommends that, when a man cannot be praised for noble birth, one should fall back upon the thought that every man who has an excellent disposi­ tion for virtue is thereby born noble."12 The idea shows up in Seneca, Juvenal, Boethius; these texts were collected in a number of medieval di­ dactic works, including the Moralium dogma pbilosophorum, a twelfthcentury text attributed to William of Conches, and a treatise on poetics by Matthew of Vendome. One intriguing element in these medieval discussions of nobility is the idea of the malleability of human character: nobility through acquired traits rather than by nature. Both courtly poetry and moral treatises touch on this idea; they differ, however, as to which qualities they consider no­ ble and how they think these qualities can be acquired. Thomas Aquinas, as we have seen, mentioned this problem very briefly, but thought that virtue was a combination of nature and the effects of teaching and cus­ tom. There is a much more extended discussion in the De Eruditione Principum, once wrongly attributed to Thomas and now thought to have been the work of a more pedestrian contemporary, William Perrault. This short didactic work includes a chapter refuting theories of nobility, fol­ lowed by a chapter spelling out the nature of true nobility. The author attacks the idea of hereditary nobility in a variety of forms. Against the notion that nobles have "a more noble origin," for example, he points out that all are equally descended from Adam and Eve. Further, he employs the reductio ad absurdum: "If whatever comes from a noble is itself no­ ble, then lice and other superfluous things produced by nobles would be noble." The author of this didactic treatise was unwilling to allow any validity to the theory of inheritable nobility; Aquinas's position by con­ trast was conservative.13 The author goes on to describe true nobility, basing his view on a text from Walter of Chatillon. This description of true nobility turns out to be 12 E. R. Curtius, European Literature and the Latin Middle Ages, trans. W. R. Trask (New York, 1953), pp. 179—80. Curtius cites the major texts in which this idea is developed. 13 "Tertius error est, quod credunt aliquos esse nobiles, quia a nobilioribus originem habuerunt, qui error multipliciter potest manifestare." "[S]i nobile esset, quidquid a nobili procedit, pediculi, et aliae superfluitates, quae a nobilibus generantur, essent nobiles." Wil­ liam Perrault, De Eruditione Principum, included in Thomas Aquinas, Opera Omnia, ed. Vives (Paris, 1875), vol. 27, Opusculum no. 37:1,4, p. 558. On the attribution to Perrault, see A. Dondaine, "Guillaume Peyraut vie et oeuvres," Archivum Fratrum Praedicatorum 18 (1948): 162-236.

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a list of characteristics, and, in fact, an interesting blend of manners and morals. "It is proper to the true nobility of the prince that he be without lowness, without shameful servility, that he allow himself to be overcome by no rusticity, that he shun all baseness, that he freely and generously distribute his goods, that he be conscientious and merciful to his subjects, strict to the rebellious, that he despise petty things and seek great things, that he undertake difficult tasks and not quit short of completion from groundless fear."14 The author dilates on these ideas at length. No one is noble who is the slave of his belly, or of his shameful members; it is better to be the slave of a leper than to fall into this type of servitude. Liberality is the sign of nobility, as greed is the sign of rusticity, so that those who despoil the poor are rusticissimi. The noble is compared to Leo, noble beast and king of the animals, who also is liberal; like Leo, the noble is disturbed by no groundless fear. Clearly, for Perrault nobility was a mix of morals and manners. This tradition took a less pompous form in love literature, which sug­ gested in part that nobility is virtue and in part that "manners makyth man."15 The meaning of virtue in love poetry was of course very different from the virtues of a good prince enumerated by Perrault. One important text expressing these ideas is the De Amore of Andreas Capellanus, writ­ ten in the 1180s at the court of the Countess Marie of Champagne, in Troyes. The work is a guide to lovemaking patterned after Ovid's Ars amatoria. As Peter Dronke has suggested, the De Amore is almost a com­ edy of manners. Some of the humor is based on relationships between persons of different social rank, and on theories of social status. The au­ thor in fact argues that good character is most apt to attract love: So too with a woman—she should not look for beauty or adornment or noble birth in a lover, because "No man likes features fair, if goodness be not there." Honesty of character alone truly enriches a man with nobility, and makes him thrive with glowing beauty. Since all of us are descended from one stock and have all taken the same origin in nature's way, it was not beauty or bodily adornment or even material wealth but only honesty of 14 "Ad veram principis nobilitatem pertinet ut ipse sit sine ignobilitate, sine erubescibili servitute, a nulla rusticitate suprari se permittat, turpitudinem omnem abhorreat, ad largitatem bonorura bene se habeat, bona sua libenter et liberaliter tribuat, subjectis sit clemens et pius, in rebelles severus, parva despiciat, magna appetat, aggrediatur ardua, non vano timore ab eo quod aggressus est citra consummationem desistat." De Eruditione Principum·. I, 4, p. 559. 15 This was the motto of William of Wykeham, a fourteenth-century English chancellor of low social origins, cited by Curtius, p. 180. There has been considerable debate over whether this body of literature can be apdy called the literature of courtly love: see F. X. Newman, ed., The Meaning of Courtly Love (Albany, N.Y., 1968).

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character which originally brought distinction of nobility and introduced dif­ ference of class.16

Since then, many descended from the first nobles have become degener­ ate, and others have risen. Thus character alone deserves "love's crown." This inspires the author not to encourage his reader to develop a good character, but to teach him how to give the impression of probitas so as to be successful in love. Sometimes, he suggests, fluent and excellent speech can give this impression and kindle love. This forms the pretext for the main body of the De Amore. Because true nobility is a matter of character, it is probitas that is most apt to inspire love. Thus the author provides a set of sample dialogues of seduc­ tion, which the reader can copy in order to give the impression of good character. The dialogues take place between men and women of varying social rank. For example, a commoner, approaching a lady of the higher nobility, argues, "From ancient times the separation devised between classes [ordinum] has been applied only to those found unworthy of the rank allotted to them, or to those adhering to their own rank because found wholly unworthy of another."17 He comically cites in support 1 Timothy 1:9: the law is made not for the just man, but for sinners. When the lady objects that good character may ennoble a commoner but that only the prince can change his rank, the plebeius points out that she is agreeing that it is character that ennobles. On the same grounds, her ob­ jection to his big feet and flabby legs also does not hold.18 This text contains a constellation of ideas about the sources and nature of nobility. The notion that society is divided into orders is clearly pres­ ent—as Duby has pointed out.19 In fact, the dialogues depend upon the juxtaposition of members of different orders. However, there is little sense of these orders as rigid categories based on social function. Nobility also depended on manners, style, and character; it is the fluidity of the definitions of social rank that is striking. 16 "Mulier similiter non formam vel cultum vel generis quaerat originem, quia: 'Nulla forma placet, si bonitate vacet'; morum atque probitas sola est quae vera facit hominem nobilitate beari et rutilanti forma pollere. Nam quum omnes homines uno sumus ab initio stipite derivati unamque secundum naturam originem traximus omnes, non forma, non cor­ poris cultus, non etiam opulentia rerum, sed sola fuit morum probitas quae primitus nobi­ litate distinxit homines ac generis induxit differentiam. Sed plures quidem sunt qui ab ipsis primis nobilibus sementivam trahentes originem in aliam partem degenerando dedinant: 'Et si convertas, non est propositio falsa.' Sola ergo probitas amoris est digna corona." An­ dreas Capellanus on Love, ed. and trans. P. G. Walsh (London, 1982), pp. 44—45. 17 "Nam antiquitus ilia ordinum reperta distinctio non nisi illis fuit imposita solis qui praetaxato sibi ordine reperiuntur indigni, vel qui proprium ordinem servant, maiori vero digni nuilatenus inveniuntur." De Amore, ed. P. G. Walsh, pp. 76—79. 18 De Amore, pp. 219—21; Parry, pp. 141—42. 19 Duby, Les trots ordres, pp. 404—11.

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Dante and his contemporaries were influenced by these ideas. This is most apparent in the love poetry written by Guittone d'Arezzo before his conversion, which includes an uninspired series of poems that form an "art of love."20 Sometimes this idea took the form of describing the en­ nobling qualities of love. Walter of Chatillon offered a bawdy version of this theme: "Si te miles equitat / Amor me nobilitat."21 Sometimes the fact that this is a view of nobility in competition with other views is made explicit: gentil corage Fan Ios gentil e'ls joios, E'l gentileza de not Non val mais a eretage, Pos tut em d'una razitz.22

This returns to the familiar attack on hereditary nobility: all men descend from Adam and Eve. Nobility is a quality of the heart and not a matter of ancestry. The love poetry of the thirteenth-century Florentines developed these parallel themes of the ennobling effects of love, and virtue as a matter of acquired characteristics, of style and manners as well as of inner qualities. For Andreas Capellanus, the pursuit of women inspired the pretense of noble character. In these poems, love can transform character. In a work from the Laurentiana: Potest namque, ne dampnemus amorem, vel veniam vel gratiam mereri: reddit enim amantem minorem affabilem et d[o]cilem vereri quicquid turpe putat—et amplius, non nihil est: ne forte preter morem dum carpitur fructus Venereus.23 20 See C. Margueron, Recherches sur Guittone d'Arezzo (Paris, 1966), for the influence of Ovid and Andreas Capellanus. 21 Cited by Dronke, Medieval Latin, vol. 1, p. 295. 22 "Noble hearts make us noble and give us amorous joy, and our nobility never comes from heredity, as we all derive from the same origin." This is cited without a reference in Poeti del Duecento, ed. G. Contini, vol. 2, p. 462n, as the Dauphin of Alvernia Robert I in a "partimen," or verse debate, with the troubador Perdigon. 23 "Yet love (let us not condemn it) can indeed deserve indulgence or grace: for it makes an imperfect lover courteous and gentle, it makes him fear whatever he thinks base—and what is more, for an important reason: lest perchance he overstep gracious behavior in plucking the fruit of love." Dronke, Medieval Latin, vol. 2, pp. 394—96, lines 19—27; the text is Laurenziana Plut. XXIX fol. 429v—30r.

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Love can render a man gentle, courteous, careful to avoid anything base.

Gentilezza and Nobility The ideal of gentilezza elaborated by the poets of the dolce stil novo in Florence brought together these two themes: the ennobling effects of love, and the idea that true nobility is an interior quality, not the result of birth or wealth. The best-known canzone expressing this view is Guido Guinizelli's "Al cor gentil repara sempre Amore." The structure of the imagery is complex; it is based on an association between the beloved lady and a star radiating light. The poet stressed the identity of love and the gentle heart. As Peter Dronke points out, gentilezza in a sense is the capacity to love. Guido specifically addressed the contrast between this idea and the idea of gentility by birth: Fere Io sol Io fango, tutto Ί giorno; vile reman, ne Ί sol perde calore; dis'omo alter: "Gentil per schiatta torno"; Iui sembl'al fango, al sol gentil valore. Che non de' dare om fede che gentilezza sia, for de coraggio, in dignita de rede: s'e' da vertute non ha gentil core, com'aigua porta raggio, e Ί ciel riten Ie stelle e Io splendore.24

Guido is not denying that rank is hereditary, but sees it as empty without the interior transformation of gentilezza and love: a man of noble rank without a gentil cuore is like water that can only reflect a ray of light but cannot retain its splendore. He can only imitate nobility. Guido Guinizelli, then, saw nobility as an interior transformation, and inherited rank as merely its shadow. Dante's discussion of nobility drew on this exquisite ideal of gentilezza as well as on the didactic writings of his teacher, Brunetto Latini. Brunetto treated nobility in the second book of Li Livres dou Tresor. This work is closely based on three texts: the first section follows Aristotle's Nichomachean Ethics, the second, Perrault's Summa aurea de virtutibus and the twelfth-century Moralium dogma philosophorum. Brunetto's view of nobility does not deviate greatly from these sources. Interestingly, he fol24 Rimatori del Dolce Stil Nuovo, ed. V. Branca (Milan, Rome, Naples, and Citta di Castello, 1965), VIII, lines 31—40. See P. Dronke, The Medieval Lyric, p. 158.

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lowed Aristotle in the pragmatic acknowledgment that virtue is easier for people of wealth and rank: he depicted magnanimity as the crown of the virtues, and, he wrote, "nobility of birth, a title and wealth, greatly help a man to be generous."25 Once again, nobility is a matter of virtue: "A man is called noble be­ cause of noble works of virtue, and the nobility of gentiz gens is born primarily from this and not from ancestry."26 Elsewhere, after describing nobility as one of the six goods of the heart, Brunetto writes: "Those who delight in a noble lineage and boast of lofty ancestors, if they themselves do not perform virtuous deeds, do not realise that they are disgraced rather than honored by the fame of their forebears."27 Brunetto followed Perrault in stressing the importance of virtuous actions in the truly noble. Dante's conception of nobility brought together this didactic image of nobles as doers of good deeds with the metaphysical and interior quality of gentilezza. He discussed the nature of nobility at length in the fourth treatise of the Convivio. Dante attacked the theory that nobility is a mat­ ter of "antica richezza e belli costumi" (old wealth and good manners or customs), a view Dante attributed to Frederick II. Although several schol­ ars have called it the Aristotelian view, that is not really the case. As we have seen, Aristotle thought that nobility was a matter of virtue; it is sim­ ply easier to be virtuous if you inherit wealth. Further, there is no reason to doubt Dante, as it is a view that Frederick could well have advanced.28 Dante's definition of nobility, given in the Convivio and in "Le dolci rime d'amor ch'i solia," relied on Aristotle's view of moral virtue.29 No­ bility is the perfection of a thing's nature: there can be noble stones and 25 "Et noblesse de naissance, signorie et richece, aident mout a home a estre magnanimes." Li Livres dou Tresor de Brunetto Latini, ed. F. J. Carmody (Berkeley and Los An­ geles, 1948), II, 114. 26 "Et cis hom est apeles nobles por Ies nobles oeuvres de vertu, et de ce nasqui premierement la noblece de gentiz gens, non pas de lor ancestres." Li Livres dou Tresor, II, 54. 27 "Et cil ki se delitent en noblesce de lignie, et ki se vantent de haut antecessours, s'il ne font Ies verteuses oevres, il ne pensent bien que Ii Ios de lor parens tome plus a lor honte que a lor pris." Li Livres dou Tresor, II, 114. This is Davis's translation, Dante's Italy, pp.

180-81. 28 Maria Corti explored this problem. She was unable to find this idea of nobility ex­ pressed in Frederick's writings, although she did unearth a letter in which he suggested that the generositas proavorum transmits nobility. Corti, p. 64, cites Petri de Vineis . . . Friderici II Imperatoris Epistularum libri VI (Basel, 1740), 1. Ill, ep. xxvii. E. R. Curtius, European Literature, p. 180, offers direct evidence that varying ideas about nobility were discussed at Frederick's court. 29 See Nic. Ethics: Il 6 1107a. Dante also defined nobility in Monorchia, II, III, 4; see B. Nardi, Saggi di Filosofia Dantesca (Florence, 1967), p. 257n. For a study of the relation­ ship between the political thought of Dante and that of Aristotle, see L. Peterman, "Dante's Monarchia and Aristotle's Political Thought," Studies in Medieval and Renaissance History 10 (1973): 3-40.

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horses as well as noble men. What then is the perfection of human nature? Dante followed the idea that the purpose of human life is happiness; this happiness is achieved through the moral and intellectual virtues, which come in turn from the habit of right and moderate choice. Nobility is the inner disposition that makes this possible. Thus nobility is more than virtue; it is the capacity for virtue. It is "the seed of happiness placed by God in a well-disposed soul."30 As Kenelm Foster and Patrick Boyde point out in their commentary on the poem, Dante views this seed of happiness as "in essence a relatively high degree of intellectual capacity, an aptitude for all the insights and workings of reason."31 Ultimately, nobility as an intellectual capacity is a combination of the well-prepared soul and the divine gift of the faculty known in Ar­ istotelian terms as the possible intellect. "Dice adunque che Dio solo porge questa grazia a l'anima di quelli cui vede stare perfettamente ne la sua persona, acconcio e disposta a questo divino atto ricevere."32 In this context, he cites Guido Guinzelli's idea of gentilezza, stressing the point that the soul must be prepared to receive this divine love. As Foster and Boyde suggest, Dante took Guido Guinizelli's conception of gentilezza as the capacity to love, and, removing it from the narrow confines of the conventions of love poetry, extended the idea to a general view of human nobility. The intriguing aspect of this view is its "radical intellectuality"; nobility became the capacity to make right judgments.33 Thus nobility is an interior disposition, not virtuous actions but the ca­ pability of performing them. Still, Dante went on in the Convivio to stress the importance of noble behavior. He spelled out how one can recognize nobility in a person in each of the four ages of life. This discussion is close to earlier and more conventional accounts of nobility: again, it is a mix of morals and man­ ners. For example, when he discussed youth, he pointed out that one can­ not have a perfect life without friends, and most friends are made in youth. It is important, then, to attract friends through graciousness. Graciousness is acquired through "soave reggimenti, che sono dolce e cortesisimamente parlare, dolce e cortesemente servire e operare."34 The dis30 Dante Alighieri, "Le dolci rime d'amore ch'i solia," Dante's Lyric Poetry, trans, and ed. K. Foster and P. Boyde (Oxford, 1967), vol. 1, no. 69, pp. 119-20. 31 Dante's Lyric Poetry, vol. 2, p. 221. 32 Dante Alighieri, Il Convivio, ed. M. Simonelli (Bologna, 1966): book 4, chap. 20. "It then says that God alone bestows this grace on the soul of that human being whom he sees dwelling perfectly within his own person, prepared and disposed to receive this divine act." Dante's 'Il Convivio' ('The Banquet'), trans. R. H. Lansing (New York and London, 1990), p. 206. 33 Dante's Lyric Poetry, vol. 2, p. 211. 34 Il Convivio·. book 4, chap. 25; "This graciousness is acquired through pleasant con-

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tinctive sign of nobility in youth is modesty, but it also includes "Bellezza e snellezza nel corpo": "la nobile natura Io suo corpo abbellisca e faccia conto e accorto."35 He went on in the following chapter to claim that a noble youth should be not only slender and attractive, but loving, coura­ geous, temperate, loyal, and courteous. This calls to mind an earlier dis­ cussion of cortesia in the Convivio as a combination of "le vertudi e Ii belli costumi": he argued that the term cortesia is derived from corte be­ cause in the old times these virtues were present at court.36 In effect, al­ though Dante has developed the idea that nobility is an intellectual ca­ pacity and in fact a divine gift, he still—through describing the qualities produced by nobility—depicts it as an elegant and gracious style of life. He also was unwilling to completely abandon the idea of nobility of ancestry. This is most fully expressed in the Paradiso, in his encounter with the spirit of his twelfth-century ancestor Cacciaguida. Dante defends pride in ancestry: the meeting was in Paradise, where no false pride or appetite can exist, yet he was able to glory in nobilta di sangue, nobility of blood. At Dante's request, Cacciaguida surveyed the noble families of the old city, revealing which families of Dante's day were long established and which were social upstarts. In effect, a family's worth was tied to how long it had been honorably established in the city: clearly this was a no­ bility of civic origins. Dante even notoriously blamed the unrest in the city on the rise of new families: "Sempre la confusion de Ie persone principio fu del mal de la cittade."37 This confusion seems to include not only social mobility but the mingling of people of different stocks. Thus Dante in the Paradiso supported the notion of nobility of the blood. Of course, he also thought that noble ancestry was often dis­ graced: a family remained noble only if its descendants continued to be noble in character. He attacked the Uberti of Florence and the Visconti of Milan on these grounds in the Convivio: they claim to be noble by birth, but it is the actions of the individual that ennoble the family, and not the reverse.38 Dante's support for the idea of nobility of blood was part of a new general interest in ancestry among the late thirteenth- and fourteenth-century Florentines. Dante's discussions of nobility, then, mingled a number of ideas. Ultiduct, namely sweet and courteous speech, and sweet and courteous service and action." R. H. Lansing, p. 222. 35 Il Convivio: book 4, chap. 25; "Beauty and poise"; "a noble nature brings beauty to its body and makes it lovely and poised." R. H. Lansing, p. 224. 36 Il Convivio·. book 2, chap. 10. See Dronke, vol. 1, pp. 2-3. 37 "The intermingling of people has ever been the beginning of harm to the city." Dante Alighieri, Paradiso, The Divine Comedy, trans, and ed. C. S. Singleton (Princeton, N.J., 1957): I, canto vi, 67—68. 38 Il Convivio: book 4, chap. 20.

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mately, he held that nobility is the intellectual capacity for virtuous ac­ tions, implanted by God in the well-prepared soul. He also saw nobility as expressed in a style of cortesia, and he supported the idea that nobility could be handed down in a family line, provided the descendants were as honorable as their ancestors. Finally, a family's noble origins could be civic, based on the depth of their tradition of residence in the commune. The political challenge to noble status and prerogatives was paralleled, then, by an intellectual reexamination of the nature of nobility. The idea that true nobility was a matter of inner virtue was not a revolutionary new insight but a rhetorical commonplace. Authors within the Aristote­ lian and scholastic traditions had long recognized the possible discrep­ ancy between inherited noble rank and genuine nobility. Typically, these writers saw nobility as a mix of morals and manners. Dante brought this tradition together with the idea drawn from courtly poetry of the enno­ bling effects of love, to see nobility as an inner capacity for love.

Nobility and Injustice These literary and philosophic conceptions of nobility seem removed from the Florentine political arena. How closely did they reflect contem­ porary society and social attitudes? This is conjecture, but it is intriguing that the poets saw ennobling love as inspired by a distant and idealized woman, in Guinizelli's poem a woman likened to a star. Women became the ultimate source of the inner qualities of true nobility: courtesy, soft speech, a "gentil cuore." Many scholars have pointed out that the early Renaissance combined an idealization of women with a real lowering of female status.39 It is nevertheless suggestive to consider the idealization of women in the specific context of contemporary changes in the patrilineage. Again, the patrilineage was based on the exclusion of women— from ancestry, from inheritance, from full membership in the lineage. In the last decades of the thirteenth century, when men sought alternatives to the narrow world of the lineage and its values, they sometimes turned to women, as for example when they named their wives or sisters execu­ tors of their wills. In a parallel way, Guido Guinizelli and Dante turned to feminine images as the inspiration for a transformation of character, a true nobility. There is a similar pattern in the religious life as well, as the new spiritual ideal came to be embodied in female saints, including Umi39 The most influential may be Joan Kelly-Gadol, "Did Women Have a Renaissance?" in Becoming Visible: Women in European History, ed. R. Bridenthal and C. Koonz (Boston, 1977; 2nd. ed., 1988).

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liana dei Cerchi. The parallel cannot be pushed too hard. Still, perhaps it was because of the status of women as outsiders that those who sought alternatives to values they considered worldly or corrupt turned for alter­ natives to ideal images of women. There is another point of contact between intellectual discussion of true nobility and popular attitudes. Contemporary commentators on political events also were disturbed by the discrepancy between noble status and true nobility, by the ignoble actions of men who were considered to be noble. At the same time, chroniclers sometimes shared Dante's reluctant respect for noble ancestry, manners, and style. Dino Compagni's eulogy of Corso Donati—whom he must have known—is unforgettable because of just this contradiction. Compagni combined a grudging admiration for Corso's aristocratic style with moral condemnation: He was a knight of great ambition and renown, an aristocrat by birth and behavior, of very great personal beauty even till his old age; he had a fine figure and delicate features, and a fair complexion. He was a pleasing, clever and accomplished speaker, always busying himself in great matters; familiar and intimate with great lords and with noblemen, possessing powerful friends; and famous throughout all Italy. He was the enemy of democracies and of the popolani; was beloved by his retainers; was full of wicked designs, unprincipled and astute.40

Corso was the quintessential urban noble: Compagni, in fact, mentions most of the elements that defined the magnates. Knighthood was para­ mount. Noble birth followed, or at least noble behavior, the aristocratic style of life. Compagni also emphasizes physical beauty, recalling Dante's discussion of true nobility in the Convtvio. A man's reputation, his fame, and his connections to great lords and courtiers also contributed to his status. But this was an urban world that prized the skills of the orator, quick wit and the ability to speak well. When Corso held his handsome but tongue-tied enemy Vieri de Cerchi up to ridicule as "l'asino di Porta," the witticism was spread around town by jesters.41 Corso was considered 40 "Fu cavaliere di grande animo e nome, gentile di sangue e di costumi, di corpo bellissimo fino alia sua vecchiezza, di bella forma con dilicate fattezze, di pelo bianco; piacevole, savio e ornato parlatore, e a gran cose sempre attendea; pratico e dimestico di gran signori e di nobili uomini, e di grande amista, e famoso per tutta Italia. Nimico fu de'popoli e de'popolani, amato da' masnadieri, pieno di maliziosi pensieri, reo e astuto." Compagni, Cronica book 3, chap. 21. 41 "E M. Corso molto sparlava di M. Vieri, chiamandolo l'asino di Porta, perche era uomo bellissimo, ma di poca malizia ne di bel parlare: e pero spesso dicea: Ha raghiato oggi l'asino di Porta?; e molto Io spregiava." Cronica, book 1, chap. 20.

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a gifted military leader, and his impulsive charge at Campaldino, accord­ ing to Villani, turned the tide of the battle.42 The passage recalls the ambivalence of contemporary attitudes toward the nobility, combining respect and grudging admiration with moral con­ demnation. Corso was "an aristocrat by birth and behavior," with blood, knighthood, looks, style, wit, and connections. He lacked only wealth and virtue. It is revealing that when Compagni looked for a model for Corso's role in city politics, he found it in a combination of chivalry with the classical past: Corso was "a knight resembling the Roman Catiline."43 Compagni expressed the same ambivalence toward other nobles. Some were great men, but their greed and quarrels brought civil war down on the city. Compagni was disturbed by the injustice of the ultimate victory of some of these men. Dante, faced with the terrible injustice of contem­ porary political events, took gleeful revenge in the Commedia, detailing the torments of treacherous nobles like Bocca degi Abati in the Inferno. Dino Compagni also looked for some moral order in the disastrous events of his lifetime. With an almost classical sense of fate, he suggested that men's wickedness caught up with them at the end of their lives. The end of his chronicle describes the ignoble and dishonoring deaths of the men of high rank and low moral worth who by fanning the flames of factional violence had brought disaster on their city. Corso Donati was first on the list. Ill with gout, defeated and fleeing the city, Corso finally was butchered by a foreign mercenary, a man in the pay of his enemies. The truth about Corso Donati, Compagni wrote, was that "he lived dangerously and died reprehensibly."44 Messer Rosso della Tosa was another immoral noble, "a knight of great spirit," but a sower of discord. "It was he who split the whole Guelf Party of Florence into Whites and Blacks. It was he who inflamed the citizen's discord." Compagni describes his humiliating and ignoble death: "This man kept God waiting a long time, for he was more than seventyfive years old. He was walking one day when a dog ran between his feet and made him fall, so that he broke his knee. It became infected; and martyred by the doctors, he died from the agony. He was buried with great honor, as befits a great citizen."45 42 Villani, 43

Cronica, book 7, chap. 131; see chap. 6.

"Uno cavaliere della somiglianza della Catellina romano." Cronica, book 2, chap. 20.

44 "[M]a parlando il vero, la sua vita fu pericolosa, e la morte riprensibile." Campagni, Cronica, book 3, chap. 21; Bornstein trans., p. 84. 45 "M. Rosso della Tosa fu cavaliere di grande animo, principio della discordia de'Fiorentini, nimico del popolo, amico de'tiranni. Questo fu quello, che la intera parte Guelfa divise, e i Bianchi e'Neri; questo fu, che Ie discordie cittadinesche accese. . . . Costui, aspettato da Dio lungo tempo, pero che avea piu che anni LXXV, uno di andando, uno cane

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Pazzino de' Pazzi was cut down by his enemies the Cavalcanti as he was out practicing falconry. Pazzino fled toward the Arno, where Paffiera "struck him in the kidneys with a lance. He fell in the water, and they cut his veins and then fled.. .. And so he died miserably."46 Another noble scorned by Compagni was messer Betto Brunelleschi, a fine orator often sent on embassies but despised for the ignoble vice of greed. "He was rich in land and goods. He was infamous among the popolo for in times of famine he locked up his grain and declared: 'Either I get this price for it or it will never be sold.' " Compagni saw him as a man without honor: "he was so thoroughly dedicated to evil that he did not care for God and the world." Betto was ambushed and wounded in the head by two Donati youths and their companions while he was playing chess in his house. He lingered several days, and "died miserably, in a rage, without penitence or satisfaction to God or the world, and with the great ill will of many citizens. Many rejoiced at his death, for he was a terrible citizen."47 In sum, a constellation of ideas about nobility were present in late thirteenth-century Florence. The identification of nobility with virtue was not really a new bourgeois theory of nobility, as some scholars have sug­ gested. The view itself was not an innovation but a new emphasis on a set of ideas that had been around since Aristotle. The perception that inher­ ited privilege often bears little relation to real worthiness was almost a constant in didactic literature. However, the violent and divisive roles of the nobles within the com­ mune gave these ideas a new immediacy. Thomas Aquinas had attempted to reconcile the idea that true nobility was a matter of virtue with the actual practice of the inheritance of noble status by suggesting that noble se Ii attraverso tra'pie e fecelo cadere, e per modo si ruppe il ginocchio: il quali infistoli; e martoriandolo i medici, di spasimo si mori: e con grande onore fu sepulto, come a gran cittadino si richiedea." Compagni, Cronica, book 3, chap. 38; Bornstein trans., p. 99. 46 "Un giorno, sentendo il Paffiera Cavalcanti, giovane di grande animo, che m. Pazzino era ito in su Ί greto d'Arno da Santa Croce con uno falcone e con uno solo famiglio, monto a cavallo con alcuni compagni, e andoronlo a trovare. El quale, come egli gli vidde, comincio a fugire verso Arno; e seguitandolo, con una lancia gli passo Ie reni, e caduto nell'aqua gli segorono Ie vene." Cronica, book 3, chap. 40; Bornstein trans., p. 100. 47 "Fu ricco di molte possessione e d'avere; fu in grande infamia del popolo, pero che ne'tempi delle carestie serrava il suo grano, dicendo: Ό aronne tal pregio, ο non si vendera mai.' " "[A] tanto male s'era dato, che non curava ne Iddio ne'l mondo." "M. Betto alquanti di stette che si credea campasse; ma doppo alquanti di, arrabiato, senza penitenza ο sodisfazione a Dio e al mondo, e con gran disgrazia di molti cittadini, miseramente mori: della cui morte molti se ne ralegrorno, perche fu pessimo cittadino." Cronica, book 3, chap. 39; Bornstein trans., p. 99.

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parents often pass true nobility on to their children, through genetics or through teaching and custom. Florentine writers a generation later were less sanguine, seeing contemporary nobles as a group defined by wealth, rank, aristocratic style, and perhaps even physical beauty, but not by vir­ tue. And for Dino Compagni wicked nobles finally paid for this injustice, suffering ignoble deaths that revealed their true characters: Rosso della Tosa tripped over a dog and broke his knee, Pazzino de' Pazzi bled to death in the Arno, Betto Brunelleschi, worst of all, died in a rage, alone and unrepentant.

THE MAGNATES IN THE EARLY FOURTEENTH CENTURY

I

N THE course of the thirteenth century, Florence changed dramati­ cally. The city doubled in size and was transformed from a disorderly collection of houses, shops, and towers, parish churches and a few convents, to a city paved in stone and ordered by major public works. These public palaces, streets, and piazze were the physical expression of strengthened civic institutions. The change is easily symbolized: in 1241, when the commune owed damages to the Amidei, the lineage was given the city's judicial and tax records as surety. By 1300, the Amidei were posting surety for good behavior under communal law.1 The reason is clear. In 1241, the Amidei power had rested in their command of one of the approaches to the Ponte Vecchio. By the 1290s, these military re­ sources had little real use, and rapid economic growth had simply left the Amidei behind. When the commune in 1296 began construction of a log­ gia that compromised the value of a family tower, Corsino di Gianni could only register a formal protest.2 The underlying change was the establishment of stronger civic institu­ tions, based on the rise to power of the economic interests represented by the greater guilds and, for a brief period, the lesser guilds as well. This change in the power structure rendered the older magnate culture out­ dated, private military force ineffective. The Ordinances of Justice were a dramatic symbol of the victory of corporate guild association over the patrilineages of the nobility. The new guild-based system defined itself and established its authority by attacking the older structures. The stat­ utes not only manifested the authority of the Priorate but also contributed to the change: because they made nobles liable for offenses committed by their kinsmen, the laws placed further strains on magnate lineage solidar­ ity. The Ordinances of Justice thus were already retrospective, looking back on a culture that was passing away, and sometimes levying penalties on past and faded enemies. By the 1290s, some magnates were deeply 1 Diplomatico, San Mattheo in Arcetri, 4 dicembre 1241; 27 gennaio 1295/6 and 12 febbraio 1292/3. 2 The protest is Diplomatico, San Mattheo in Arcetri, 12 novembre 1296; on the Amidei, see chap. 3.

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ambivalent toward their patrilineages. Lineages had never fully succeeded as cohesive social, political, and military units. Lineage values demanded that men give their first loyalty to their patrilineal kin, a code of values that encouraged cooperation in the joint possession of strategic resources: urban towers and palaces, ecclesiastical rights. This ideal of a united lin­ eage was always difficult to sustain because kinsmen in practice tended to have diverse economic interests. By the factional wars of the 1260s and 1270s the costs of lineage solidarity could be terribly high: men risked not only exile and damage to their property but the loss of crucial finan­ cial ties. Urban IV and then Clement IV effectively exploited this tension to undermine the Ghibelline regime during 1263-1265, when they used the opportunities offered by papal finances as both a carrot and a stick, encouraging Florentine bankers to break with the Ghibelline regime and often with their kinsmen in exchange for papal business.3 The evidence from the end of the century suggests that some magnates found burdensome not only the pressures for solidarity with kinsmen but the system of joint ownership at the heart of the medieval lineage. Again, institutional growth had rendered joint properties less valuable: private family forts were simply outdated. At the same time, many lineages had grown to the point that joint property was highly fractionalized and cum­ bersome to administer. In reaction, kinsmen began to divide their shared property, perhaps retaining a common courtyard or loggia. The revealing exceptions were lineages that shared ecclesiastical rights. The rights could be both prestigious and lucrative; they were also ex­ tremely awkward to divide. Lineages with valuable rights over the church, like the Buondelmonti-Scolari, the Nerli, or the Visdomini-della Tosa-Aliotti, thus were constrained to work together in the exercise of their rights. In all three cases, bitter internal divisions developed because some family members believed that their kinsmen were misusing and ex­ ploiting their family rights over church property. These large lineages thus enjoyed only an artificial unity, imposed by the need to share the rights. By the 1290s some magnates hesitated to place their affairs in the hands of their kinsmen, who might not always share their interests or the inter­ ests of their heirs. Magnate testators no longer relied almost exclusively on their kinsmen as guardians for their children or executors of their es­ tates, as their ancestors probably had. Some turned instead to their wives and sisters, to the clergy, or to business associates. Magnate testators sometimes directly revealed their mixed feelings toward the lineage, like Schiatta degli Abati in 1300 or Lapo di Albizzo de'Nerli in 1313. Both men wrote wills that honored their traditional obligations to patrilineal 3

See Raveggi, ttIl regime ghibellino," chap. 4 of Ghibellini3 Guelfi e Popolo Grasso.

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kin, but also included distrustful and insulting penalty clauses to ensure that their kinsmen carried out their bequests. The nobles lost both their private and their public military roles, roles that had defined their status as magnates. The Black-White struggles were probably the last time that factions fighting within Florence made real use of the medieval towers and barricades. Palaces constructed in the late Dugento show little preoccupation with defense; they were designed not for physical protection but to make a formidable public show. Private mili­ tary force was no longer the key to power within the commune.4 At the same time, the patriciate lost its public military role. In the fourteenth century, warfare was carried on by professionals, and not by citizens. The cavallata became simply a fiscal obligation. Knighthood was divorced from actual military service and became purely a matter of social rank. This loss of military spirit became a popular topos among fourteenthcentury writers. Sachetti bemoaned the decadence of knighthood: the cavalleria had become a cacaleria. He sneered at a usurer newly made a knight, who was ostentatiously rich and old and gouty; knighthood, Sachetti wrote, is now conducted in the stables and pigstys.5 Dino Compagni's account of the rise of the Black and White factions at the end of the century evokes the fragmentation of the older noble cul­ ture. Compagni portrayed the origins of the factions in the feud between Donati and Cerchi as a clear opposition: the hatred of a traditional noble family, now a bit down on its luck, for the wealth and ostentation of a rising house of bankers. The Donati were "of more ancient lineage [than the Cerchi] but less rich," and arrogant and unpopular.6 So far as is known, the lineage was urban in origins, dating from the late twelfth cen­ tury: consular aristocracy. By the 1270s they were scrambling for funds, as Corso Donati's marriage and his unsavory quarrel with his sister over her children's property implies. The Donati also showed a high-handed disregard for the law, typified by Corso's spectacular rescue of Totto de Mazzinghi from communal justice, which provoked a popular uproar, and by Simone's attack on a popolano in the piazza in front of San Pier Maggiore, which resulted in the man's death and Simone's exile.7 The Cerchi by contrast were "men of low estate but good merchants 4 Private force did continue, however. F. W. Kent has uncovered startling references to troops of armed men and stocks of arms in palaces in the fifteenth century: see his "Palaces, Politics and Society in Fifteenth-Century Florence," pp. 63—65. 5 Franco Sachetti, Il Trecentonovelle, ed. E. Faccioli (Turin, 1970), novella 153, pp. 42023. 6 "De Donati, i quali erono piu antichi di sangue, ma non si ricchi." Cronica, book 1, chap. 20; Botnstein trans., p. 22. 7 For discussions of these episodes, see chap. 7.

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and very rich; they dressed well, kept many servants and horses and made a brave show."8 Emigrants from a rural parish, the Cerchi were the quint­ essential magnati per accidente, a newly rich lineage that had adopted an aristocratic style, with horses and servants and rich clothing. Some family members purchased the palace of the Guidi counts, near the Donati, made extensive additions to it, and "lived in high style." The Donati, Compagni wrote, "seeing the Cerchi rising . .. began to nurse a great hatred of them."9 Dino Compagni, then, analyzed the Black-White conflict in terms of a social opposition between old and new families. Both the Cerchi and the Donati were magnates. But in the end, the Donati were really knights, while the Cerchi were merchants despite their heroism at Campaldino. Dino Compagni quotes "wise men" who assessed the Cerchi and the White leaders: "they are merchants and so they are cowards by nature, whereas their enemies are masters of war and ruthless men."10 And yet, when Compagni described the lines along which the factions actually formed, this analysis broke down. The passage has been treated as an early statement of the roots of Florentine political alliances in the ties of amici, parenti and vicini (friends, relations, and neighbors).11 From the perspective of the thirteenth century, the account more directly re­ veals the fragmentation of the older order. It was not clear which ties had priority, how a man should choose a side. Two common motives were friendship—and it is revealing that the arrogant and unscrupulous Corso Donati commanded such loyalty—and bitter enmity between kinsmen. The strongest motive was hatred occasioned by the failure of kin to live up to traditional expectations. To paraphrase the text, Compagni wrote that Guido Cavalcanti sided with the Cerchi out of enmity toward Corso Donati; Naldo Gherardini, for enmity toward the Manieri, Corso's kins­ men; Manetto Scali and kin, because they were related to the Cerchi; Lapo Salterelli, out of kinship as well; Berto Frescobaldi, because he had borrowed Cerchi money; Goccia Adimari, because of a quarrel with his kinsmen; Bernardo Manfredi Adimari, because he was a Cerchi business partner; Bilisardo, Baschiera, and Baldo della Tosa, "out of spite against 8 "(Uomini di basso stato, ma buoni mercatanti e gran ricchi, e vestiano bene, e teneano molti famigli e cavagli, e aveano bella apparenza), alcuni di Ioro comprorono il palagio de' conti, che era presso ale case de'Pazzi e de'Donati." Cronica I: 20; Bornstein trans., p. 22. 9 "([0]nde) veggendo i Cerchi salire in altezza (avendo murato e cresciuto il palagio, e tenendo gran vita), cominciorono avere i Donati grande odio contro a loro." Cronica, book 1, chap. 20; Bornstein trans., p. 22. 10 "Ma i savi uomini diceano: Έ sono mercatanti, e naturalmente sono vili; e i loro nimici sono maestri di guerra e crudeli uomini." Cronica, book 1, chap. 27; Bornstein trans., p. 30. 11 See Dale Kent, The Rise of the Medici, chap. 1.

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messer Rosso, their kinsman, because they had been deprived of their honors by him." The Donati party included "messer Rosso, messer Arrigo, messer Nepo and Pinuscio della Tosa, on account of great intimacy and friendship"; Gherardo Ventraia Tornaquinci; Geri Spini and his kinsmen, because they had been wronged; "messer Gherardo Sgrana and messer Bindello [degli Adimari] on account of intimacy and friendship"; "Pazzino de Pazzi and his kinsmen; the Rossi, the greater part of the Bardi, the Bordoni, the Cerretani, Borgo Rinaldi, Manzuolo, Pecora the butcher . .. and many other wealthy merchants."12 The Cerchi faction suggests changing sources of political alliance and support, a greater reliance on patronage and favors. At least until the 1250s, a family's power was based on towers and family enclaves that might physically dominate their neighborhood. The Cerchi, as we have seen, engaged in an active program of palace construction in the last de­ cades of the century. As the research of Brenda Preyer shows, they had little interest in the military uses of these buildings. The buildings were not laid out with an eye to defense or other military uses. Rather, they were designed to produce a formidable, highly visible presence on a major street, symbolic of power deriving from wealth and political alliance rather than from the use of force. At the same time, Dino Compagni tells us, the Cerchi were "much in favor with the popolani, the signoria, and the magistrates," and patron­ age and favors clearly played an important part in their popularity. They were "molto serventi," very obliging: the old Ghibellines, for example, loved them both for their umanita and because the Cerchi performed ser­ vices for them and did them no injuries.13 Scholarship on the fifteenth12

"Divisesi la citta di nuovo, ne'grandi, mezzani e piccolini; e i religiosi non si poteano difendere che con l'animo non si dessino alle detti parti, chi a una chi a un'altra. . . . Fu ancora di Ioro parte Guido di m. Cavalcante Cavalcanti, perche era nimico di m. Corso Donati; Naldo Gherardini, perche era nimico de'Manieri, parenti di m. Corso; m. Manetto Scali e suoi consorti, perche erano parenti de'Cerchi; m. Lapo Salterelli, Ioro parente; m. Berto Frescobaldi, perche avea riceuto da Ioro molti danari in prestanza; m. Goccia Adi­ mari, per discordia avea co'consorti; Bernardo di m. Manfredi Adimari, perche era Ioro compagno; m. Biligiardo e Bastiera e Baldo della Tosa, per dispetto di m. Rosso Ioro consorto, perche da Iui furono abbassati degli onori. I Mozzi e Cavalcanti (il maggior lato), e piu altre famiglie e popolani, tennono con loro. Colla parte di m. Corso Donati tennono m. Rosso m. Arrigo e m. Nepo e Pinuccio della Tosa per grande usanza e amicizia; m. Gherardo Ventraia, m. Geri Spini e suoi consorti, per 1'offessa fatta; m. Gherardo Sgrana e m. Bindello, per usanza e amicizia; m. Pazzino de'Pazzi e suoi consorti, i Rossi, la maggiore parte de'Bardi, i Bordoni, i Cerretani, Borgo Rinaldi, il Manzuolo, il Pecora beccaio . . . e molti altri popolani grassi." Cronica, book 1, chap. 22. 13 "[I Cerchi comineiorono] accostarsi a'popolani e reggenti. Da'quali erono ben veduti, si perche erano uomini di buona condizione e umani, e si perche erano molto serventi, per modo che da loro aveano quello che voleano." Cronica, book 1, chap. 20.

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century city has shown that ruling families, most prominently the Medici, used patronage and favors to build and maintain their power.14 Perhaps the "molto serventi" Cerchi mark a gradual shift away from the private military and toward the networks of political patronage characteristic of the Renaissance city. Assessment of the significance of the restriction of the magnates is a deli­ cate problem. The subsequent history of the magnate families themselves has been studied by Marvin Becker and more recently by Christiane Klapisch. Becker, writing in 1965, considered them a political failure: when they were briefly able to regain power during the tenure of Walter of Brienne, they again showed themselves unable to govern, incapable of subordinating private interest to public need.15 Klapisch has examined the magnates in the second half of the four­ teenth century, working from the petitions submitted by magnates who took advantage of opportunities to repudiate their former lineages and change their surnames and coats of arms in order to escape the penalties associated with magnate status. A great many lineages or lineage branches chose to do so: twenty received popular status in 1342, and 113 changed their surnames and became members of the popolo between 1349 and 1393. However, Klapisch found that the break was rarely clean: men chose new coats of arms and surnames that recalled their older lineage associations. Sometimes, they even returned after a time to their former surnames.16 The ambivalence some magnates showed toward their lineages in 1300 thus persisted into the late fourteenth century. The changes in the lineage as a pattern of family structure described here for the magnates in 1300 also probably had a broader influence. These changes—the breakup of most joint lineage property and the low­ ering of expectations for kinsmen—may have influenced lineage structure among the grandi popolani. This is necessarily speculative because of the dearth of studies of the patriciate in the first half of the fourteenth cen­ tury. It may be that lowered expectations paradoxically strengthened the lineage form, as it was adopted by rising families. The elimination of fractionalized joint property ended what had been a major source of internal strain. Other problems of course persisted, including the tensions caused by prolonged male adolescence and—despite some mitigations—by the exclusion of women. Neverthless, by reducing the compulsory obliga14 Studies include Kent, The Rise of the Medici, and Anthony Molho, "Cosimo de'Medici: 'Pater Patriae' or 'Padrino'?" Stanford Italian Review 1 (1979): 5—33. 15 Μ. B. Becker, "A Study in Political Failure: The Florentine Magnates, 1280-1343," Mediaeval Studies 27 (1965): 246-308. 16 Christiane Klapisch, "Ruptures de parente et changements d'identite chez Ies magnats florentins du xiv siecle," Annates E.S.C. 43, no. 5 (September—October 1988): 1205—1240.

MAGNATES IN THE EARLY FOURTEENTH CENTURY

235

tions of the lineage, these changes may have made possible a new reliance on kinsmen, and encouraged the flowering of the ties of lineage among the grandi popolani of the Renaissance city. When early fourteenth-century authors assessed these changes, they la­ mented the decline of the older noble culture. A number of writers ex­ pressed a sense of loss, a sense that an older and more heroic culture had passed away. Dante's discussion in the Paradiso of the "good old days" of Florence, when men lived sober and simple lives, is only the bestknown example. Dante located the good old days in the twelfth century, before the rise of the Guelf and Ghibelline factions. Other authors placed it in the mid-thirteenth century. Outside Florence, Riccobaldo da Ferrara contrasted his contemporar­ ies in 1300 with men at the time of Frederick II, and pointed to a new greed for wealth and luxury. In the old days, he wrote, "a man and his wife ate from one dish; wooden trenchers were not yet used" and one or two drinking vessels sufficed for a family. They wore little gold and silver and ate a simple diet. "The glory of men was to be rich in arms and horses; that of the nobles was to have lofty towers." Nowadays, Riccobaldo writes, "one sees garments of rich material which are decorated with exquisite and excessive artifice." Men drink foreign wine at sump­ tuous feasts, and pay high wages to their cooks. The result is avarice and greed, leading to "usury, frauds, oppression of the innocent, destruction of citizens, banishment of the rich."17 Giovanni Villani in a famous passage also emphasized the heroic aus­ terity of the Florentines at the time of the Primo Popolo. At the time of the popolo . . . the citizens of Florence lived soberly, eating coarse foods and spending little, with many coarse and rough customs and manners, and dressed themselves and their women in coarse clothing. . . . one hundred lire was a common dowry for a wife, and two or three hundred was at that time considered exorbitant; and most girls reached twenty or more years before they took a husband. The Florentines then had home­ made clothing and coarse manners, but they kept good faith and were loyal to each other and to the commune, and with their coarse life and poverty they achieved greater and more virtuous things than have been accomplished in our times of soft living and wealth.18 17 This translation is from C. Davis, "II Buon Tempo Antico," in Florentine Studies, ed. N. Rubinstein (London, 1968), pp. 66—67; reprinted with some revisions in his Dante's Italy, chap. 4; see also Davis' discussion of the different versions of this passage from Riccobaldo's Historie. This version is from his Compendium of the Historie·, see A. Massera, "Dante e Riccobaldo," Bollettino della societa dantesca italiana, n.s. 22 (1915): 184. 18 "Al tempo del detto popolo . . . i cittadini di Firenze viveano sobrii e di grosse vivande, e con piccole spese, e di molti costumi e leggiadrie grossi e ruddi: e di grossi drappi vestieno Ioro e Ie Ioro donne . . . e lire cento era comune dota di moglie, e lire dugento ο trecento era

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The transformation of the patriciate was analyzed in terms of style: the contrast between an earlier Spartan simplicity and contemporary luxury, between chivalric largesse and personal greed. Villani was characterizing most directly families that belonged to the Primo Popolo but went on to adopt an aristocratic style, like the Cerchi with their servants, rich cloth­ ing, and fine palaces. However, the culture of the older nobles too had changed. Folgore da San Gimignano, writing before 1332, lamented the death of cortesia: men had now taken to heart not knightly generosity but rather avarice.19 In these retrospective accounts, the domestication of the nobility was seen as a loss of purity, encouraging avarice, luxury and dis­ solute habits, elaborate foods and fancy table manners.20 While contemporary authors lamented the decline of the older noble culture, they also condemned the factional rivalries that this culture had created. Writers in the late Dugento and early Trecento were concerned to find new political and social ideals that could open up the possibility of escaping the narrow confines of lineage and faction. One reason the mendicant preachers were able to capture the imaginations of thirteenthcentury Italians is that they articulated this concern: St.Francis preached not only repentance and voluntary poverty but reconciliation and peace. Dominican preachers in Florence at the end of the thirteenth century de­ veloped the Aristotelian ideal of the subordination of private interest to the bono comunis. As Charles Davis has shown, Fra Remigio de'Girolami not only equated true nobility with virtue, but believed that a citizen best achived virtue when he sacrificed his interests to the common good. The state thus became "an opportunity for virtue."21 Daniel Lesnick has re­ cently examined another Dominican, Fra Giordano da Pisa, who also urged the common good, in 1304 working into a sermon on St. Augustine the decidedly un-Augustinian exemplum of Caesar Augustus and Scipio Africanus battling for the good of the whole community.22 To some extent, these political ideals were expressed in the new Flor­ entine electoral system. It was designed to promote the common good and a quegli tempi tenuta isfolgorata; e Ie piii delle pulcelle aveano venti ο piu anni, anzi ch'andassono a marito. Di si fatto abito e di grossi costumi erano allora i Fiorentini, ma erano di buona fe e a leali tra Ioro e al Ioro comune, e colia Ioro grossa vita e poverta, feciono maggiori e piu virtudiose cose, che non sono fatte a tempi nostri con piu morbidezza e con piu richezza." Villani, Cronica, book 6, chap. 69. 19 Il Duecento dalle origini a Dante, ed. N. Mineo et al., vol. 2, part 2, p. 246. 20 This recalls the arguments of Norbert Elias, The Civilizing Process, trans. E. Jephcott (New York, 1978), vol. 1. Machiavelli also regretted the assimilation of the nobles into the popolo: see his Istorie Florentine, ed. F. Gaeta (Milan, 1962), book 2, chap. 42. 21 Davis, "An Early Florentine Political Theorist: Fra Remigio de'Girolami," in Dante's Italy, chap. 8, esp. pp. 208-9. 22 Lesnick, Medieval Florence, pp. 104-5.; he argues that Fra Giordano was tacitly sup­ porting the peacemaking efforts of the new podesta.

MAGNATES IN THE EARLY FOURTEENTH CENTURY

237

protect against factional rule by rapidly circulating political offices among men selected by lot from a large pool of guildsmen. Of course, the precise mechanisms involved were much debated. The early Priorate did not become a fixed and permanent system, but rather launched a long struggle that John Najemy has analyzed as a contest between the ideals of corporatism and consensus. Does this mean that the restriction of the nobles contributed to the origins of civic humanism and republican government?23 Such a view rests on an understanding of Florentine government in the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries that many scholars have called into question. As Ar­ mando Petrucci has pointed out, civic humanism cannot be equated with Florentine political realities.24 First, it was an ideology that expressed the interests of the wealthy patriciate, for Fra Giordano, by contrast, the common good effectively meant the good of the popolo grasso. More gen­ erally, many scholars in the 1970s and 1980s have underscored the im­ portance of networks of patronage underlying political life in the Renais­ sance city. The system because of the rapid circulation of offices among large numbers of people in fact encouraged patronage and faction. Thus the recent tendency has been to downplay not only the impact of human­ ist ideology but, at least by implication, the importance of institutional change. Nevertheless, the formation of the Priorate and the restriction of the magnates did mark a profound change. It is useful to recall the definition of the state advanced by A. R. Radcliffe-Brown: "the state is concerned with the control and regulation of the use of physical force."25 By the end of the thirteenth century, the Florentine government's ability to control the use of armed force was significantly strengthened. This does not mean that the informal, private systems of patronage underlying formal insti­ tutions lost importance. We need further study of the problem of the re­ lations between the patriciate and members of the popolo minuto—and the related issue of the social composition and stability of urban neigh­ borhoods—particularly in the period from 1250 to 1350. Still, the impli­ cation of this study is that when institutions changed, the political strat­ egies used to gain access to power changed as well. I have argued that noble patrilineages consolidated during the period when the frailty of civic institutions fostered private kinship-based strategies to gain power. 23 This was the view confidently advanced in the 1960s by Μ. B. Becker in Florence in Transition (Baltimore, 1967). 24 See the discussion of Petrucci's comment in the valuable review essay by Alison Brown, "Florence, the Renaissance and the Early Modern State: Reappraisals," Journal of Modern History 56, no. 2 (1984): 285-300. 25 See Lucy Mair, Primitive Government (Harmondsworth, 1977), p. 34.

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By 1300, institutional change rendered those strategies less effective. In response, Florentine patricians adapted, shifting their emphasis from the coercion and military domination of the medieval nobles toward the more subtle networks of patronage characteristic of the late fourteenth and fifteenth centuries.

APPENDIX I LIST OF THE MAGNATES

I. MAGNATES OF THE CITY (1293 AND 1295)

This is the list reconstructed by Salvemini, Magnati e Popolatti (Florence, 1899), Appendix IXf, pp. 375—377; his sources were the "Cronichetta" of Neri Strinati, in Pace da Certaldo, Storia delta guerra di Semifonte (Florence, 1753), pp. LXLXII, and G. Cambi, "Istorie," in Ildefonso di San Luigi, Delizie degli eruditi toscani (Florence, 1770—1789), vol. 20, pp. 9—17. Oltramo

Borgo (cont.)

Rossi Frescobaldi Mannelli Ubriachi Bardi Mozzi Gangalandi Nerli (1295 only)

Gualterotti Scolari Cappiardi Petriboni Corbizzi

San Pancrazio Lamberti Pigli Cosi Mascheroni Cipriani Vecchietti Tornaquinci Migliorelli Mazzinghi Manieri (1293 only) Sizi (1295 only) Borgo Buondelmonti Guidi Giandonati Bostichi Soldanieri Gianfigliazzi Scali Spini

Por San Piero Adimari Abati Cerchi Pazzi Tedaldini Visdomini Donati Alisei (1293 only) San Pier Scheraggio Cavalcanti Infangati Uberti Compiobessi Tisi Malespini Fifanti Bogolesi GalIi Gherardini Sichelmi Pulci (1293 only) Amidei

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APPENDIX I

San Pier Scheraggio (cont.)

Porta del Duotno Delia Tosa

Guidalotti Bagnesi Da Volognano Galigai Franzesi Balsami Ghiandoni Sacchetti Foraboschi Lucardesi Delia Vitella

Caponsacchi Arrigucci Bruneileschi Agli (1293 only) Strinati Da Castiglione Agolanti Sommarensi Amieri

n. MAGNATES OF THE CONTADO (1295)

This list is given as it appears in the "Cronichetta" of Neri Strinati, pp. Oltramo Delia Casa di Montespertoh DeTigliuoli di Sinibaldo da Pulicciano, e Bernardone co' figliuoli 1 Conti da Certaldo I Milotti da Certaldo DeTigliuoh di Buoncristiano da Certaldo De'FigliuoU di Guernieri da Certaldo De'Beci da Castelfiorentino De'Bonaccoli da Empoli De'FigliuoU Duca d'Empoli Conte Anselmo da Puntormo Di quelli di Petrio [LPetroio) di Valdipesa Messer Gozza da Pogna, e nipoti e figliuoli Figliuoli di Giuseppo da Pogna, e consorti Figliuoli di Serraglio da Marcialla, e di lor casa De' Manetti Albertini di Castelvecchio Delia Casa di Messer Poltrone da Carpello San Pier Scheraggio Maso di Messer Rinieri filii Domini Sinibaldi de'Benzi da Feghine, e ogni diloro Napoleone e fratelli di Manetto da Feghine Ruco e fratelli di Simone de'Grifoni da Feghine Messer Ubertino, Messer Neri, Messer Accerito e Bertino Grosso da Gaville Mucio e fratelli di Messer Guido da Colle Ballera e fratelli di Messer Ubertino da Colle Bianci e fratelli di Messer Rinuccio da Monte Grossoli, e gU altri della casa FigUuoli di Rinuccio della Vacchereccia Figliuoli d'Alberto da Castiglione

LIST OF T H E M A G N A T E S

241

Ugolino di Messer lacopo da Vertina Messer Gualtieri, Messer Rosso, Messer Bernardo de'Rinaldini e lor consorti Messer Ciupo degli Squarcialupi Ciascuno degli Squarcialupi Guelfi e Ghibellini Pepi di Pepo dalla Torricella Currado di Guido dalla Torricella e fratelli e gli altri di loro casa Albertaccio di Grossolo da Brolio Figliuoli di Bindo di Messer Ugolino, Figliuoli di lacopo di Messer Ugolino, Figliuoli di Spinello di Messer Ugolino da Cacchiano Figliuoli di Spinello da Radda, e nipoti Albizo di Messer Forziore da Selva, e consorti Orlando di Rinieri da Castiglione Castra e Becco di Messer Ubertino da Grino Guido di Messer Ranuccino da Grignano Dino e Banco di Messer Tancredi da Monte Rinaldi, e ciascuno della loro casa di ciascuna parte Messer Marcovaldo di Messer Guido de Monasteris da Monte Luco della Bernardinga, e ciascuno di detta casa Brandaglia di Gattolino da Montevarchi Bindo e Nuccio di Messer Brandaglino da Montevarchi Messer Guiglielmo da Ricasoli Figliuoli di Rinieri da Ricasoli Borgo Bernardino e Niccolo degli Antellesi, e consorti della casa da Mugnana e Sezzata Cante di Messer Gentile, e figliuoli da Lucolena Figliuoli di Messer Guido da Lucolena Della Casa di Guido Lamberti da Uzzano di Val di Grieve Conte e Tancredi di Messer Guineldo da Vicchio Della Casa de'Figliuoli di Cozzo da Montagliari Figliuoli di Rinaldo, Figliuoli di Ser Arrigo della casa de'Gioci da Monteficalli San Pancrazio Messer Ormagio da Vanci del Greco, e de'suoi Messere Scolaio Puccio, Pacino, Cino di Messer Guido Torselli da Signa e i loro Chello di Messer Ugolino da Sommaia For San Piero I Pazzi di Valdarno Guelfi e Ghibellini Figliuoli di Messer Braccio da Frondole Buschia dello Stiria e suo'figliuoli Porta del Duotno Della Casa degli Ubaldini, della Pila, Monte Accianico e Desenno Figliuoli e nipoti di Messer Attaviano Rinieri, e nipoti da Gagliano, e degli Ubaldini

242

APPENDIX I

Ciascuno d'Ascianello, e da Villanuova, e da Spugnole eccetto Messer Malviano Figliuoli di Messer Ugo da Coldana Viviano di Messer Alidogi da Coldana Figliuoli di Guineldo da Barberino, e da Latera, e da Rezzano, owero Mortoiano Orlanduccio di Messer Alberto, e figliuoli de Lomena, over da Vezzano, overo da Sommaia Cattani, e Lambardi da Sommaia Cattani, e Lambardi dalla Querciola

APPENDIX II A NOTE ON COINAGE

A medieval Italian pound, the libra or lira, contained 20 soldi or shillings and 240 denari, pennies. There were two main systems of coinage in use in Florence in the second half of the thirteenth century, moneta piccola, which was silver and copper, and moneta grossa, the gold florin first coined in Florence in 1252. Thus a sum was described as so many lire in fiorini di piccioli. Alternatively, it could be figured as so many lire in gold florins. Initially the gold florin was equivalent to the silver libra, contain­ ing 20 soldi. However, as the moneta piccola was progressively debased, the market rate of gold coins rose. There were 30 soldi in a gold florin in 1276, 36 in 1290, and 47 by 1300, according to Mario Bernocchi, Le monete della Repubblica fiorentina (Florence, 1976), vol. 3, pp. 78-88. See R. Goldthwaite, The Building of Renaissance Florence (Baltimore and London, 1980), p. 429, for a table summarizing Bernocchi's findings. See Carlo M. Cipolla, Le avventure della lira (Milan, 1958) and his Money, Prices and Civilization in the Mediterranean World (Princeton, 1956). For the weights and measures used in the period, see F. Sznura, L'espansione urbana di Firenze nel Dugento (Florence, 1975), p. 159.

BIBLIOGRAPHY

ARCHIVAL SOURCES, ARCHTVIO DI STATO DI FIRENZE Archivio

A 981 982 983 (3 vols.) B 1262 B 1340 (9 vols.) B 1426 B 1462 B 1473 B 1948 B 2166 B 2527 C 102 C 568a Filza I, 43 F 66 G 364 1104 1105 L 76 M 293 0 3 R 40 R 150 R 192 S 733

notarile

antecosimiano

Attaviano di Chiaro (1259-1296) Bencivenni di Gianni (1292-1308) Benintendi di Guittone (1292-1348) Bernardo Buonaccorso (1298-1305) Benvenuto di Alberto della Castellina (1280-1286) Bernardo di Rustichello (1256-1299) Biagio Boccadibue (1297-1314) Bonizzi Bonizzo (1297-1350) Buonaccorso di Firenze (1290-1294) Cantapochi Giovanni (1287-1297) Ciuffoli Bonavere (1237-1293) Arnoldo da Firenze (1280-1281) Faccioli Buonaccorso (1297-1307) Giovanni di Buoninsegna da Rignano (1296-1309) Guide di Mangiadore (1276-1311) Ildebrandino d'Accatto (1269-1270) Lapo Gianni (1298-1327) Matteo di Biliotto (1294-1314) Opizzo da Pontremoli (1296-1311) Rinieri Baldesi (1268-1278) Ricevuto d'Andrea (1295-1306) Rinuccio di Piero (1279-1303) Simone di Dino (1288-1303)

The preceding list is based on the inventory to the collection, and was published by F. Sznura in L'espansione (1975). B 1948 has been published as Biagio Boccadibue (1298-1314), edited by L. De Angelis, E. Gigli and F. Sznura (Pisa, 1978). Diplomatico, Riformagioni Codici 20 contains "Frammenti di Protocolli di Vari Antichi Notai di Firenze dal 1261 al 1297," including: Aldobrandino vocatur Naso d'Accato Fiorentino (1261—1265) Attaviano di Chiaro d'Accorso (1292-1294) Ser Giovanni di Bergo and Bonfigliuoli da Catapecchio (1292—1294) Ser Guido di Mangiadori (1291-1292) Further Archival Sources Acquisti e Doni Balie Capitani di Parte Conventi Soppressi

246

BIBLIOGRAPHY

Diplomatico Estimo I Manoscritti Il Bullettone Borghini, Vincenzio. "Delle famiglie nobili fiorentini." Manoscritti 190, 3. Provvisioni

PUBLISHED PRIMARY SOURCES

Andreas Capellanus. Andreas Capellanus on Love. Edited and translated by P. G. Walsh. London, 1982. "Annales fiorentini." Edited by O. Hartwig. In Quellen und Forschungen zur altesten Gesehiehte der Stadt Florenz, vol. 2. Marburg, 1875. Aristotle. The Works of Aristotle. Edited by D. W. Ross. 12 vols. Oxford, 1921. Boccaccio, Giovanni. Il Corbaecio. Translated and edited by A. Cassell. Urbana, 111., 1975. . Il Decameron. Edited by V. Branca. 2 vols. Florence, 1950-1952. Boncompagno. "Cedrus." In Briefsteller und Formelbucher des elften bis vierzehnten Jahrhunderts, by L. Rockinger. 2 vols. Munich, 1863. Brunetto Latini. Li Livres dou Tresor de Brunetto Latini. Edited by F. J. Carmody. Berkeley and Los Angeles, 1948. Le Carte della canoniea della eattedrale di Firenze. Edited by R. Piattoli. Regesta Chartarum Italiae, 23. Rome, 1938. Compagni, Dino. Croniea. Edited by I. Del Lungo. Florence, 1889. Le Consulte della repubbliea fiorentina dall'anno MCCLXXX al MCCXCVIH. Edited by A. Gherardi. 2 vols. Florence, 1896—1898. Cronaehe dei secoli XIIl e XIV. Florence, 1879. Doeumenti di storia italiana, vol. 6.

Dante Alighieri. Il Convivio. Edited by M. Simonelli. Bologna, 1966. Translated by R. H. Lansing as Dante's Il Convivio (The Banquet). New York, 1990. . Dante's Lyric Poetry. Translated and edited by K. Foster and P. Boyde. Oxford, 1967. . The Divine Comedy. Translated and edited by C. S. Singleton. Princeton, N.J., 1957. Davidsohn, Robert. Forschungen zur Geschiehte von Florenz. 2 vols. Florence, 1896-1908. Delia Tosa, Simone. "Annali." In Cronichette antiche, edited by D. Manni. Flor­ ence, 1733. Documenti dell'antica costituzione del comune di Firenze. Edited by P. Santini. Florence, 1895. Documenti di storia italiana, 10. Il Duecento dalle origini a Dante. 2 vols. Edited by N. Mineo et al. Bari, 1970. In "La letteratura italiana storia e testi." Fazio degli Uberti. Liriche edite e inedite di Fazio degli Uberti. Edited by R. Renier. Florence, 1883.

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INDEX

Abati lineage, 30, 176,177-79,183, 239·, Abati-Bacherelli firm, 54; properties, 40-45, 61, 92 Abbas di Ildebrandino, called Abbas de Lambarda, 40; Abbate di Rustico, 44, 178; Baldovina, widow of Rinaldo, 41; Bocca, 179, 226; Durante, 44; Feltruccio, 44; messer Guerriero, 61; Ildebran­ dino, 177; Jachine di Scolaio, 45; Jacopo, Lamberto di Abbate, 178; Migliore di Abbate, 40—41; Migliore di Raynaldo, 178, 186; messer Neri (Rayneri) Picchino, 61,179; serNeri, 180; madonna Orrabile, 44; Rayneri, 53-54; Rayneri di Rustico, 44; Raynuccio, 179; Rinaldo di Migliore, 41,186; Rustico di Abbate, 41; Sehiatta di Rustico, 41, 61, 180; Scolaio, 45,129; Simone di Raneri di Rustico, 179 Adalina, wife of messer Albizo Tribaldi, 122 Adimari lineage, 51, 60, 176, 183, 189, 239; dowries, 131; feud with della Tosa, 71, 189; marriage, 126; nuns, 132; properties, 49—50 Bernardo di Manfredi, 232; messer Bindello, 233; Bindo di Alamanno, 39; Gherardo di Aldebrando, 39; messer Gherardo Sgrana, 233; Goccia, 232; Iacopo di Naso, 39; Lapo, 134; Lapo di Alamanno, 39; Pepo di Alamanno, 39; Tegghaio di Aldebrando, 39, 131 Agli lineage, 240 Gianni, 59 Agolanti lineage, 240 madonna Berta, widow of Ubaldino, 138; Bicia di Ubaldino, 138; Giovanni di Ubaldino, 138; Lapo di Ubaldino, 138 Alberti lineage, 137 Alfani lineage, Vermiglio, 153 alimenta, 132—33 Aliotti lineage, 65-66; administration of episcopal property, 66. See also della Tosa; Visdomini Alisei lineage, 176, 239 Altafronte, castello, 97

Amerigo of Narbonne, 153,161 Amidei lineage, 48, 60, 68,165—67,181, 229, 239; dowry, 129; marriage, 125; properties, 48; widow, 133 Adimari Gianni Leti, 139; Corsino di Gianni, 48, 229; Duecia di Giovanni, 139—41; madonna Ghisola, widow of messer Giovanni di Gianni, 139-41; Gianni, 48; Giovanni di Gianni, 48; ma­ donna Iacopa, widow of Adimari Gianni Leti, 139 Ammanati, Marco di Jacopo and Vanne di Bandino, 54 Andreas Capellanus, on nobility, 217-18 dell'Antella lineage, 54 Aquinas, Thomas, on nobility, 214—15 Aristotle, on nobility, 213, 221; on com­ mon good, 236 armor, 155, 159 Arrigueei lineage, 51 arti. See guilds Bagnesi lineage, 239; dowries, 131 messer Gentile, 131 Bardi lineage, 51, 68, 76, 171, 173, 183, 233, 239; list, 57; nun, 132 Bardellino, 188; Becco di Bonaguida, 189-90; Frederic, 76; Neri di Symone di Iacopo, 190 Bargelio, or Palazzo del Popolo, 85, 105 Baroni lineage, 56 Barone, 182; Pace, 182 battle of Benevento, 12 battle of Campaldino, 153-54 battle of Montaperti, 12 Becker, Marvin, 206,234, 237 Bell, Rudolph, 112,118 Bellomo, Manlio, 110 Benincase: Lotterius, 53; Pietro, 54 Benvenuti Papi, Anna, 112, 116, 118—19 Bigonchia, Amidei tower, 48 bishop of Florence, lay vicedomini, 65—66; ritual installation, 70—71 Bizzochi, Roberto, 62 Black faction, 104-5, 186-88, 231-33 Blomquist, Thomas, 38

260

INDEX

Boccaccio, Giovanni: II Corbaccio, 141; sources, 158 Boncompagno da Signa, formulary, 161 Bonzole tower, 92 Bordoni lineage, 233 Borghini, Vincenzio, 64-65 Bornstein, Daniel, 115 Boscoli tower, 85 Bostichi lineage, 51,169,239; palace, 87 Bouchard, Constance, 64 Bowsky, William, 194 braccia, unit of measurement, 84 Bratto, Olaf, 156 Brunelleschi lineage, 240 Betto, 227 Brunetto Latini, 47, 220-21 Bullettone, 70 Buondelmonti lineage, 51, 183, 239; internal divisions, 80; list, 57; losses in Liber Extimationum, 77; marriages, 6 9 , 1 2 5 26; origin, 66; patronage rights, 67, 7677 Buondelmonte di Buondelmonte, 125, 166-67; Cece, 77; messer Gentile, 78; Gherardo, 78,137; Locto di Buondelmonte, 78; Paganello di Raneri, 67; Raneri de Montebuono, 66-67; Ranucino di Raneri, 67; Russo di Raneri, 67; Uguicio di Raneri, 67

Cavalcanti lineage, 51, 60, 183, 239; dowry, 129; properties, 50 Adimaro di Gianni Leti, 50; messer Boccaccio, 58; Guido, 126, 232; messer Maynetto di Paffiere, 50; Paffiera, 227; messer Raneri, 50; messer Tegghia di Giamberto, 50; Uberto di Pazzo, 50 Cavalcavia, Cavalcanti tower, 50 cavallata, 152-53 Cerchi lineage, 68,179,188, 231-32, 239; bank, 53,126, 183; nun, 132; palaces, 100, 105; tower, 98-99 Consiglio di Oliviero, 38, 60, 129, 153; Galgano, 116; messer Gherardino, 100; Giovanni di Consiglio, 38; Oliviero, 53, 111-15; Ricoverino, 188; Umiliana, 98-99, 111-19, 128; Vieri, 153225 Cerretani lineage, 233 Charles of Anjou, 153,157,161 Chiermontesi lineage, widow, 135 messer Guineldo, 135 chivalric motifs, 155-57 Chojnacki, Stanley, 138 chronicles of Florence, 22 Ciaberonta, Strinati tower, 46, 93 clientage, 168-76, 233-34 Compagni, Dino, chronicler, 22, 88,104, 153-54,162, 186-88,211, 225-27, 231-33

Cadolingi lineage, 72 Caggese, Romolo, 183 Calimala guild, 46, 54, 76, 197 Cambio guild, 178, 197 Cammarosano, Paolo, 34 Campana Francisci, 53 Caponsacchi lineage, 58,176, 240; nun, 132 Dardo di Neri Berlingheri, 190-91; Decchus, 60; Messerino, 134 Capponi lineage, 173 Carocci, Guido, 47, 94-95 caroccio, 158 Castagna, tower, 85-86, 88 Castiglione, Cattani of, lineage, 176,240 messer Lancia, 176 catasto, 47 Cathar heresy, 82, 120-23, 182-83; perfects, 122; on sexuality and childbirth, 120-21

Compiobbesi lineage, 239; tower, 87 Compiuta Donzella, poet, 136 consanguinity, 35 consorteria, 29-30 consular government, 9 - 1 1 contado: conquest, 5-6; Florentine landowners, 5; growth, 4 - 5 ; magnates, 2 4 0 42 Corbizzi lineage, 239; dispute, 59, 131; nun, 59 Disticcio, 59; messer Gherardo, 59; Goccia, 59; Guidocto, 61; Nerlo, 59 Corbolani lineage, pact, 55 Corti, Maria, 221 Cosi Uneage, 239 Aldobrando, 58; Arrigo (called Guccio) di messer Manetto, 58; Primerano di Aldobrando, 58 counter-dowry (donatio propter nuptias), 110

INDEX

Crusades, 140,150-51 Curtius, E. R., 216

261

Dameron, George, 65 Dante Alighieri, 66, 129, 153; on the "good old days," 235; on nobility, 22124, 226 dating, 24 Davanzati palace, 85 Davidsohn, Robert, 4, 53-54, 67,126, ^^^ Davis, Charles, 235-36 De la Rondere, Charles, 172 D.no Pecora, 174,233

11; population, 4; sense of decline, 23536; sources, 22-25 florin, 243 Folcardino Picconis, 92 Folgore di San Gimignano, poet, 159, 236 Fornace, Cavalcanti tower, 50 Foster, Susannah, 62,137 Francis and the Franciscans, 111, 116-20, 236; tertiaries, 4 4 - ^ 5 , 1 1 5 , 1 1 9 20 124 140-41 Franco Sachetti, 231 ^40; bank, 53, 188 ^^^^^^^^^ „ ^ ^ 221

D.plomaUco,25 dolce stil novo, 142 Dominic and the Dominicans, 195, 236;

Frederickof Antioch, 11, 181 , , , ,. , , Frescobaldi Imeage, 239; bank, 53,183;

tertiaries, 119-20, 140-41. See also Giordano da Pisa; Remigio de'Girolami Donati Uneage, 51,176,183,188, 227, 231, 239; nun, 132; tower, 85-87, 104; widow, 139 suor Angela, 139; Corso di Simone, 104-5, 127, 153-54, 159, 188, 225-26; Gemma, wife of Dante, 129; Gualdrada, 167-68; Piccarda di Simone, 127; Ravenna di Simone, 126-27, 159; Simone, 159, 190, 231 dowry, 110, 115, 128-33, 138-40; legal disputes, 135-36 Dronke, Peter, 119,123, 217-21 Duby, Georges, 33-34, 125, 146, 148, 161

gabelle,rental, 56-57, 81 Galigai lineage, 92,176, 240 Gangalandi lineage, counts, 167, 181, 239 gentilezza, 220-22 Gherardino lineage, 51, 68, 239; daughter, 139 Cece, 139; Lippo Stremi, 52; Naldo, 232 Ghibelline faction, 11-16, 49, 73, 103, 126, 187, 233; composition, 181-83; legendary origins, 167

ecclesiastical patronage rights, 68-69, 7 1 78, 79-80; in Ordinances of Justice, 203 English, Edward, 54 ., ' exile, 4 9 , 1 2 8 - 3 0 , 1 8 5

Ghino di ser Lotto Formagi, 190-91 Qandonati lineage, 10, 51, 165, 239; properties, 50 „. Giamguerrieri, 50; messer Gianozzo, ,50; „ messer Guerrerio, 50; cn Zozzo -v j- Ar» di

factions, 176-84 Falconieri hneage: nun, 132 „ .... ^ ' rerrantmi Imeage: nuns, 132 Bello, 126-27,159; Forese, 191 Fifanti lineage, 165, 181, 239 messer Oddo Arrighi, 125, 166-68 Fiumi, Enrico, 19 Florence: chronicles of, 22; civic palaces, 17, 165; civil war of 1177-79, 165; consular offices, 9-11; electoral systems, 10-11, 236-37; fighting in 1248, 176; fires, 104; formation of commune, 9-11; physical growth, 3-4, 17; podesta, 10-

232; Giovanni, 53; Lambertucao, 53

Giandoni lineage, 240; nun, 132 , „ ,, , Giano della Bella, 202,204 Giordano da Pisa, Dominican friar, 236^^ ^ ^^^ Giuochi hneage, 176 Goldthwaite, Richard, 49, 53, 98 Goody, Jack, 111 Gregory X, pope, 13, 189 Gualterotti lineage, 182, 239 Guardamorto tower, 103 Guardingus, 97

262

Guelf faction, 11-13; composition, 18384; exile and destruction of property, 49, 183; legendary origins, 167 Guidalotti lineage, 51 Guidi lineage, 172, 232, 239 Guido de'Mangiadori, bishop, 78 Guido Guerra, count, 126, 154,156 Guido Guinizelli, 220, 222 guilds, 196-97; minor, in the Priorate, 202—3; represented in the Priorate, 13, 183-84,196-200 Guittone d'Arezzo, poet, 219 Heers, Jacques, 89—90, 105 heraldry, 156, 234; used by popular associ­ ations, 193; used by Quattordici, 19899 heresy. See Cathar heresy Herlihy, David, 30, 78,123,162 Hibbert, A. B., 19 Hughes, Diane, 128, 166 Infangati lineage, 239 Uberto, 166 Iudi lineage, 165 Jacobus de Cessolis, on nobles, 146 Jacopo Becchi, 53 Johannes de Braiselva, 157 joint lineage property: banks and financial partnerships, 53—54; breakup, 57—63, 102; in countryside, 52; ecclesiastical rights, 65-76; extent, 46-52 Jones, Philip, 20 Kent, Dale, 172 Kent, F. W., 62 kindred, 29, 32 Kirchof, Paul, 30 Kirshner, Julius, 110-11 Klapisch, Christiane, 30, 111, 133,172— 73, 234 knighthood: in Bologna, 149; ceremonial, 154—60; equipment, 155; in militia of 1260,151—54; origins, 148—51; per­ ceived decline, 160, 231; youth societies, 161-62 Kuehn, Thomas, 111 Kurze, Wilhelm, 68

INDEX

Lamberti lineage, 69, 167, 181—82, 239; marriages, 127 Mosca, 168 Lana, wool guild, 197 Lapo Salterelli, 232 Lapus Aymerici, 53 Latino Malabranca, Cardinal, peace, 13, 104,127,196 Lesnick, Daniel, 236 Liber Extimationum, 49-52, 95, 103 libra, 243 Libro di Montaperti, 151—52, 177—79 lineage: definition, 29; dynastic lineages, 33—34; exclusion of women, 109—11; identity linked to ecclesiastical rights, 32-33, 64-76; internal strains, 80-83, 176—80; local competition, 176—77; ori­ gins, 31-34; pacts, 54-57; and patron­ age, 172—76; segmentary, 36, 177; size, 57; terminology, 29-31; vendettas, 164— 68. See also joint lineage property Lotto Formagi, 190-91 magnates, 13-17, 26, 195; of the contado, 240—42; definition in statues, 13—17, 21, 145-48,197-201; oath, 200-201; in Ordinances of Justice, 16—17; perceived decline, 235; and popular status, 234— 35; social category, 208—10; surnames and coats of arms, 234 Malispini lineage, 51, 239; property, 5051 madonna Ermellina, widow of messer Tedaldo, 139; Lapo di Gianni, 51; Ricordano, author of chronicle, 22, 73, 156—57; messer Ruggero, 50; messer Tedaldo, 139; messer Tingnoso, 50; Truffo, 50 Manfred, emperor, 12 Manieri lineage, 232, 239 Mannelli lineage, 179, 239; dowries, 129; property, 56, 99 messer Abbas di messer Mannelli, 56; Ceccho, 56; Jacobo (called Mastro) di Rinuccino, 39, 56; Jacopo di Boninsegna, 56, 99; messer Lapo di messer Coppo, 56, 99; messer Stregghia, 56 Marabottini tower, 92 Mazzinghi lineage, 51, 239; marriage, 47; property, 52 Gherardino, 52; Ghersetto di messer

INDEX

Tegrimo, 52; messer Mazzeto, 52; Mazzingo di Tegrimo, 166; Tegrimo, 52; Totto, 201 Medici, Daniela, 20 Medici e speziali, guild, 197 Medici lineage, 184—85 Bernardino di Uombono, 185 mercenary troops, 155,157, 186, 188 militia, 151—54; created in Ordinances of Justice, 205; created by Quattordici, 198—99; feditori, 153 Molho, Anthony, 172 monte comune, 57 Montebuoni, B. See also Buondelmonti lin­ eage; Scolari lineage Monticelli, Franciscan convent, 117, 127 morning gift, 109 Mozzi lineage, 51, 58, 189, 239; bank, 53— 54,126,183; palaces, 69,101,105,189 Bishop Andrea di Spigliato di Cambio, 79, 189; Diritta di Cambio, 53-54; Giacopto di Rucco di Cambio, 189; Rucco di Cambio, 53, 189; Thomaso Spiliati, 53—54; messer Vanni di messer Iacopo Lecchi, 189 Najemy, John, 203, 237 names, 24—25; chivalric, 156; surnames, 29 neighborhood associations, 9—10, 88—89; gonfaloni, 193 Nerli lineage, 39, 68, 73, 171, 179, 239; bank and financial interests, 80—81; her­ esy, 122—23; internal divisions, 80-83; list, 57; origins, 72; rights at Santa Ma­ ria at Mantignano, 72—75, 79—80, 82— 83, 131 madonna Avegnente di Nerlo, 122; Berto di Vantugio, 82; Coppo, 80; ma­ donna Diana di Nerlo, 122-23; Gherardino, 80; Gherardo, 82; madonna Ghisola di Nerlo, 122; Lapo di Albizzo, 61, 80, 82; madonna Margherita di Nerlo, 122; Nerlo, 60, 81; messer Nerlo, 189; ser Nerlo, 72-73; madonna Sophia di Nerlo, 122; Ugo di Ugo, 73; Vantugio, 82 Niccolo of Prato, Cardinal, 187 nobility: debated, 212—24; definition, 25— 26; justifications, 146; in love poetry, 219-20

263 notaries, Florentine, 23—25 Novellino, 158,186 Ordinances of Justice, 13-17, 21-22, 83, 148,202-7,229 Orlanduccio Orafo, 156 Orsanmichele, 105 Otto of Freising, chronicler, 149-50 Ottokar, Nicola, 18-19, 197, 200-201 Paganelli, Forese di Rinuccio, 61 Pagliazza tower, 87 Pallamidesse di Bellindote, 156 Parenti, Patrizia, 20, 202 parish organization. See vicinanze patrilineal descent groups. See lineage patronage. See clientage; ecclesiastical pa­ tronage rights Pazzi lineage, 99,176,183, 239 Pazzino, 78, 137, 150-51, 227; ma­ donna Tedora, widow of messer Truffecto, 139 perilasium, 97 Peruzzi lineage, 208; palace, 105 Giotto, 208 Peter Damian, 35 pieve, baptismal church, 67 Pigli lineage, 51,179,239 Plesner, Johann, 5,19 popolani: at Campaldino, 154; social cate­ gory contrasted with magnate, 25-26, 145-47 Por San Maria, guild, 197 Preyer, Brenda, 100-101, 105 Primo Popolo, 11-12,104,128,152,19395, 235—36; military organization, 193; social makeup and structure, 194—95 Priorate, 13—17,104, 196—201 Pseudo-Brunetto Latini, chronicler, 22, 166-68 Pulci lineage, 60, 179,183, 239; and her­ esy, 122 madonna Lamandina, 122; madonna Margerita, wife of Pulce, 122; Renaldo, 122 Quattordici, 13, 47,198-99 Radcliffe-Brown, A. R., 237 Raimbaut de Vazqueiras, troubadour, 15758

264 Raveggi, Sergio, 20, 73, 80,168,181-82 Remigio de'Girolami, Dominican friar, 195, 236 Riccobaldo da Ferrara, on the "good old days," 235 Riemer, Eleanor, 138-39 Rimbertini lineage, 183 Rosenthal, Elaine, 62—63 Rossi lineage, 239; festival, 159—60; nun, 132 Manfredino di Stoldo di Giacoppo, 190 Sachetti lineage, 51, 179, 240; widow, 135 messer Uguccione di Upicino, 135 Sahlins, Marshall, 36 Salvemini, Gaetano, 17-18, 147-48, 152 San Domenico, monastery, 187 San Eusebio, leprosarium, 76 San Frediano, parish organization, 171 San Jacopo a Ripoli, Dominican convent, 39,113,117,127,132,139 San Lorenzo, 137, 171 San Michele Visdomini, 66 San Pier Maggiore, 70-71, 104 Santa Maria, in Campo, parish, 78 Santa Maria, at Mantignano, 79-80; legal fight with Nerli, 82-83, 131 Santa Maria Impruneta, 67; icon, 69-70 Santa Maria Maggiore, 66 Santa Maria sopr'Arno, parish organiza­ tion, 171 Sanzanome, chronicler, 155—56 Scali lineage, 239; bank, 53—54, 126, 183 Cavaleante, 53; Manetto, 232; Teglarius, 53 Schiaparelli, Attilio, 85 Scolari lineage, 77, 80, 182, 239; clients, 174; widow, 77 messer Brancha di messer Bernardo, 174; messer Filippo, 136. See also Buondelmonti servants, in Ordinances of Justice, 205, 211 signorie, 169 Sinibaldi lineage, madonna Contessa di Forese, 134 Sizi lineage, 51 societas militum, 10, 150,193 societas peditum, 11, 193 societas populi, 11, 193 Spiegel, Gabrielle, 147

INDEX Spilner, Paula, 3, 105 Spini lineage, 183, 239; bank, 54; nun, 132; palace, 188 Geri, 233; Lapo, 54; Mainetto, 53— 54; Piero, 188; Ruggiero, 54; Ugo, 54 Strathern, Andrew, 36-37 Strinati-Alfieri lineage, 47, 176, 182, 185, 240; marriages, 127; pacts, 55—56; properties, 46—48,93—95, 99—100,103 Alfieri, 99; Belfradello, 99; Ciabero, 46, 93; madonna Ciaberonta, 46, 133— 34; Ciaberonto, 46; Davanzato di Villanuzzo, 47; Manso di Ciabero, 46, 93; Marabottino, 47, 55—56, 99; Neri di Al­ fieri (author of Cronichetta), 30, 61, 99100,103,133—34,137; Proccaccio, 61; Sinibaldo di Marabottino, 47; Strinato, 99; Villanuzzo, 46 Stuard, Susan, 125 Tabacco, Giovanni, 145, 149,150,155 Tarassi, Massimo, 20, 49,181—84 Tedaldini lineage, 176, 239 Teglarius Amatoris, 53 Teodora, wife of Albertine Malacreste, 122 Tizis lineage, 239; nun, 132 Schalglia di Cione, 60, 134 Tornaquinci lineage, 51, 58, 93, 95,105, 239; palaces and courtyard, 100—102; tower, 47 Bernardo di Marabottino, 101; Gherardo, 100—101; Gherardo Ventraia, 233; Ghino di Marabottino, 101—2; Jacopo, 101 tornata, 133 della Tosa lineage, 51, 176,184,189, 240; and the bishopric, 66, 70—72, 136-37; feud with Adimari, 71, 189; foundation, 66; internal divisions, 89; marriages, 127-28; properties, 47, 93-95, 104; rights at San Lorenzo, 137; at San Euse­ bio, 76 messer Arrigo, 233; Baldo, 80, 186, 189, 211, 232; Baschiera, 80,186-88, 232; madonna Biancia, 137; messer Bilisardo, 80, 186, 232; Ciampi, 71, 78—79, 137; messer Fastello, 95; Bishop Lottieri, 70, 80; Melliorello, 137; madonna Monaccia di Ciampi, 137; messer Nepo, 233; Odaldo, 76, 189; Pinuscio, 233; Rossellino, 76, 80, 127, 189; Rosso,

INDEX

176, 186, 189, 226, 232-33; Simone (author of the Annali), 93; Tosa, 65—66, 137 Tosinghi lineage. See della Tosa lineage tower of the captains, 95 towers, 3; height restrictions, 12, 104; names, 97; societies, 89—93; types, 84— 88; uses, 88-89, 97-98 Trappiedi tower, 48 Uberti lineage, 10, 167, 181-82, 188, 239; dowry, 129; heresy, 182—83; internal dispute, 59; nun, 132; piazza, 59, 97; properties, 95—97,104 Azzolino di Farinata, 126; messer Bruno, 183; Farinata, 126, 182; Neri, 125-26; "Nerus Georgii Brunelli quon­ dam Uberti," 59; Raynerius, 59; "dominus Rinaldus Occiolini quondam Rayneri," 59; Schiatta, 97,167—68 Ubriachi lineage, 239; widow, 139 Neri, 190 Ughetto di Sarna of Arezzo, 150 Urban IV, pope, 183

265 Vauchez, Andre', 112 vicinanze, 9-10,170-72 Villani, Giovanni, 67, 84, 89,103,128, 153-54,159-60, 235-36 Visdomini lineage, 65, 176, 188, 239; and the bishopric, 66, 70—71; internal rec­ ords, 78; list, 57; nun, 132; parish rights, 66, 68, 71—72; property, 78-79, 169; widow, 139 Davizino, 65; Davizo di Guido, 65, 137; Lottieri, 71, 79; Rinaldo, 79 Vito of Cortona, Franciscan friar, 112-19 Waldensians, 122 Waley, Daniel, 151, 155 Walter of Chatillon, 219 White faction, 104—5,186—88,231—33 Wickham, C. J., 5, 52, 169, 184 widows, 132—40 William Perrault, on nobility, 216-17 youth, 161-62,185-88 Zug Tucci, Hannelore, 73, 157

Vaiai e pellicciai, furrier's guild, 197