The Two First Centuries of Florentine History. Pasquale Villari
theme that the historian Thiers has given long attention to it, and we know that an illustrious Italian has already made it the object of many years of strenuous research.8
II.
The history of every Italian republic may be divided into two chief periods: the origin of the commune, the development of its constitution and its liberties. In the first period, during which an old state of society is decaying and a new one arising, it is hard to distinguish the history of any one commune from that of the rest, inasmuch as it treats of Goths, Longobards, Greeks, and Franks, who dominate the greater part of Italy in turn, reducing the country, almost throughout its extent, to identical conditions. The position of conquerors and of conquered is everywhere the same, only altered by change of rulers. Amid the obscurity of the times and scarcity of information, there seems scarcely any difference between one Italian city and another. But differences are more clearly defined, and become increasingly prominent after the first arisal of freedom. Most obscure, though not of earliest date, was perhaps the origin of Florence, which tarried long before beginning to rise to importance. Our present purpose being merely to throw light on the history of the Florentine Constitution, we need not devote many words to the first period mentioned above—namely, of the origin of Italian communes in general. At one time this question was the theme of a learned, lengthy, and most lively dispute, chiefly carried on by Italian and German writers. But the scientific severity of researches, in which Italian scholars won much honour, was often impaired by patriotism and national prejudice. It being recognised that the origin of the Commune was likewise the origin of modern liberty and society, the problem was tacitly transformed into another question—i.e., whether Italians or Germans were the first founders of these liberties, this society? It is easy to understand how political feelings were then imported into the controversy, and effectually removed it from the ground of tranquil debate.
Towards the end of the last century the question was often discussed in Italy by learned men of different views, such as Giannone, Maffei, Sigonio, Pagnoncelli, &c. Muratori, though lacking any prearranged system, threw powerful flashes of light on the subject, and raised it to higher regions by force of his stupendous learning. But the dispute did not become heated until Savigny took up the theme in his renowned "History of Roman Law in the Middle Ages." In endeavouring to prove the uninterrupted continuity of the said jurisprudence, he was obliged—inasmuch as all historical events are more or less connected together—to maintain that the Italians, when subject to barbarian and even to Longobard rule, lost neither all their personal liberty nor their ancient rights, and that the Roman Commune was never completely destroyed. Accordingly, the revival of our republics and of Roman law was no more than a renewal of old institutions and laws which had never entirely disappeared. Germany was quick to see to what conclusions the ideas of our great historian tended, and thereupon Eichorn, Leo, Bethmann, Karl Hegel, and others, rose up in arms against the theory of the Italian Commune being of Roman birth. They maintained, on the contrary, that the barbarians, and more especially the Longobards, whose domination was harsher and more prolonged than the rest, had stripped us of all liberty, destroyed every vestige of Roman institutions, and that, consequently, the new communes and their statutes were of new creation, and originally derived from Germanic tribes alone.
To all appearance these views should have stirred Italian patriotism to furious opposition, and made Savigny's ideas universally popular among us. Yet this was not the case. We supplied many learned adherents to either side. At that time our national feeling had just awakened; we already desired—nay, claimed—a united Italy, no matter at what cost, and detested everything that seemed opposed to our unity. Well, the Longobards had been on the point of mastering the whole of Italy, and the Papacy alone had been able to arrest their conquests by securing the aid of the Franks. But for this, even the Italy of the ninth or tenth century might have become as united a country as France. Already the school of thinkers had been revived among us that, even in Machiavelli's day, had regarded the Pope as the fatal cause of Italy's divisions. Therefore, naturally enough, while confuting Savigny's views, our nineteenth-century Ghibellines exalted the Longobards, ventured to praise their goodness and humanity, and hurled invectives against the Papacy for having prevented their general and permanent conquest of Italy. But, on the other hand, there was also a political school that looked to the Pope as the future saviour of Italy, and this school, prevailing later on during the revolution of 1848, adopted the opposite theory, and possessed two most illustrious representatives in Manzoni and Carlo Troya. At any rate, they had little difficulty in proving that barbarians had been invariably barbaric, killing, destroying, and trampling down all things, and that the Papacy, by summoning the Franks, no matter for what end, had certainly rendered some help to the harshly oppressed masses. The Franks, in fact, gave some relief to the Latin population, sanctioned the use of Roman law and granted new powers to Popes and bishops, who undoubtedly contributed to the revival of the communes. Thus, although for opposite ends, identical opinions were maintained on both sides of the Alps. Throughout this controversy learning was always subordinated to political aims, although the disputants may not have been always aware of it; and historic truth and serenity consequently suffered unavoidable hurt. Balbo, Capponi, and Capei, after throwing their weight on this side or that, ended by holding very temperate views, and their teachings cast much light on the point at issue.
The main difficulty proceeds from the fact that few persons are willing to believe that in the Middle Ages, as well as throughout modern history, we can always trace the continuous reciprocal action of the Latin and German races, and that it is impossible to award the merit of any of the chief political, social, or literary revolutions exclusively to either. On the contrary, wherever the absolute predominance of one of the two races seems most undoubted, we have to tread with most caution, and seek to discover what share of the work was due to the other. Likewise, in order to justly weigh and determine their reciprocal rights in history, impartial narrative would have a better chance of success than any system based on political ideas. Assuredly, when facts are once thoroughly verified, no system is needed, since general ideas result naturally from facts. Were it allowable to introduce here a comparison with far younger times, we might remark that when French literature invaded Germany in the eighteenth century it obtained general imitation there, and unexpectedly led to the revival of national German literature. In order to glorify the national tone of this literature, would it be necessary to maintain that the great previous diffusion of French writings was only imagined by historians? Later, the French flag was flaunted in nearly every city of Germany, and the people humiliated and crushed. From that moment we see the national German spirit springing to vigorous life. Must we say that this revival was due to the French? Is it not better to describe events as they occurred, rejecting all foregone conclusions? I am quite aware of the abyss between these recent events and those of old days; but, nevertheless, I consider that Balbo was right in remarking that the fact of the origin of the communes being disputed at such length and with so much heat and learning by the two rival schools, proved that the truth was not confined exclusively to either. Accordingly, we will rapidly sum up the conclusions we deem the most reasonable.
Every one knows that, after the earlier barbarian descents, by which the Empire was devastated, and Rome itself frequently ravaged, Italy endured five real and thorough invasions. Odoacer, with his mercenary horde, composed of men of different tribes, but generally designated as Heruli, was the leader who dealt the mortal blow in 476, and becoming master of Italy for more than ten years, scarcely attempted to govern it, and only seized a third of the soil. But a new host poured in from the banks of the Danube, commonly styled Goths, and subdivided into Visigoths and Ostrogoths. The former division, commanded by Alaric, had already besieged and sacked Rome; the latter, led by Theodoric, appeared in 489, and speedily subjected all Italy. Theodoric's reign was highly praised. The chiefs of these early barbarian tribes had often served for many years in Roman legions, and had sometimes been educated in Rome. Accordingly they felt a genuine admiration for the majesty of the very empire that the heat of victory now urged them to destroy. Theodoric organised the government; and, according to the barbarian custom, seized a third of the land for his men; but he left the Romans their laws and their magistrates. In every province a count was at the head of the government, and held jurisdiction over the