Saved by a miracle: in 1402 A.D., a miracle saved the Florentine Republic from being conquered by the Duke of Milan. Florence's story can inspire those who fight for liberty today never to lose hope. (History: Struggle for Freedom).

In 1402, citizens of Florence, Italy, fixed their attention on a high-profile contest. The famous Baptistry of San Giovani, where for generations all Florentine children had been baptized, was to receive a new set of bronze doors. Sponsored by the Guild of Cloth Merchants, a competition was devised through which 34 judges would choose the artist to receive the prestigious commission to create the doors.

Each of the contending artists was given four bronze plates upon which to depict in relief the Old Testament scene of Abraham's sacrifice of Isaac. As the judging commenced, two contenders stood out from the rest. The first, Fillipo Brunelleschi, had worked alone, in semi-secrecy as was his habit, for nearly a year. The populace and judges alike greeted his completed panel with respect and admiration. Within the confines of the quatrefoil shape specified by the rules of the contest, Brunelleschi's scene dramatically depicts the moment just before the sacrifice. Abraham is seen violently clutching his son's neck, the knife blade pressing against the boy's exposed flesh. But the act is halted just in time, as an angel flies in and, grasping Abraham's wrist, stays his hand.

In contrast to Brunelleschi, Loreuzo Ghiberti, the other prominent challenger for the commission, worked openly on his project, soliciting advice from nearly anyone who cared to give it. The end result is an astonishing masterpiece. The Patriarch Abraham is seen with his arm back, prepared for the final thrust. Isaac, as compared to the emaciated and overpowered youth in Brunelleschi's panel, is rendered in the heroic tradition of classical antiquity. And, in a stunning application of the science of perspective, the saving angel is radically foreshortened, rushing out of the background above and behind Isaac to prevent the final stroke.

Both panels were and are masterpieces, and the judges and citizens of Florence were divided. Antonio di Tuccio Manetti, Brunelleschi's biographer, indicated that the commission was therefore issued to the two artists jointly. Brunelleschi, however, refused to work with his rival, and Ghiberti won the commission to create the Baptistry doors.

It was an amazing competition and one that, given the importance of the Baptistry to Florentine life and the involvement of all the republic's leading artists and citizens, had captured the Florentines' attention. Even more amazing was that the contest was held at all because outside the walls an invading army was fast approaching. Marching under a banner depicting a coiled serpent holding a lifeless man in its jaws, it was the army of Giangaleazzo Visconti, the ruthless, cunning, and ambitious Duke of Milan, come to the region of Tuscany to put an end to the Florentine Republic once and for all.

The Usurper 

In the beginning of the year 1385, the master of Milan and of Lombardy as a whole was Bernabo Visconti. Until 1378, Bernabo, in Milan, had jointly ruled Lombardy with his brother Galeazzo -- the father of the aforementioned Giangaleazzo -- in nearby Pavia. Galeazzo was a studious man, unattracted by political power. Instead, he lavished attention on the arts and humanities, even hosting Francesco Petrarch, the greatest scholar of the age, at his court. Galeazzo was happy to leave the nuts and bolts of ruling a prosperous and powerful city state and its dependencies to his vigorous brother.

Indeed, Bernabo was an accomplished tyrant, described by historian Will Durant as "a candid villain; he taxed his subjects to the edge of endurance, compelled the peasantry to keep and feed the five thousand hounds that he used in the chase, and stilled resentment by announcing that criminals would be tortured for forty days." At the tyrant's command was the city's strong military that was feared throughout Italy and was well-respected elsewhere. So powerful had Bernabo grown that marriages to his offspring were considered very desirable throughout Europe and four of his children married into the Wittelsbach dynasty of Bavaria. From one of these unions would come a granddaughter, Isabella, who, upon marrying Charles VI, became queen of France.

Since 1378, however, Bernabo had shared rule of Lombardy with Galeazzo's son and heir, Giangaleazzo. The youngster seemed much like his father, apparently pious and frequently engrossed in study. Hardly anyone had guessed that while inheriting much of his father's demeanor, young Giangaleazzo had also inherited the Visconti ambition and attendant penchant for intrigue.

Finding his position ever more precarious as Bernabo's influence among Europe's aristocracy grew, by 1385 Giangaleazzo had decided to act. In May of that year, he sent a message to his uncle indicating that he intended to embark on a pilgrimage that would bring him near to Milan and that in the course of that trip would gladly meet with him outside of the city. On the appointed day, Bernabo and two of his sons rode from the city to meet with Giangaleazzo, who had arrived accompanied by a number of armed guards. On sighting his uncle, the younger man dismounted and embraced him. But the embrace was a ruse. As he held his unsuspecting prey, Giangaleazzo yelled a command in German and his guards disarmed Bernabo and his three sons and took them prisoner. Shortly thereafter, Giangaleazzo's forces seized control of strategic points within the city of Milan. Bernabo was imprisoned and later killed, it was said, on orders from Giangaleazzo himself.

The audacious coup stunned Europe. E.R. Chamberlain, Giangaleazzo's 20th-century biographer, notes that "in England Chaucer heard of it and shook his head over the fall of such a man, this 'grete Barnabo Viscounte, god of delyte and scourge of Lumbardie.'" Looking back on the event a few years later, the Italian historian Bernardino Corio wrote of the coup that it was "in those days... marvelous and unheard of because he whom almost all the universe held in fear and honour was by a timid youth made prisoner...." Now sole master of one of the most powerful states in both Italy and Europe, Giangaleazzo, the timid youth, could begin working toward his lifelong goal: pacifying the entire Italian peninsula and creating a Visconti empire.

The Florentine Republic

As ominous as the coup may have been, no one in the Tuscan city of Florence read into it at the time any hint of future travail. There, life went on much as it had during the previous decades where two endeavors, commerce and government, inextricably tied together, vied for the people's attention. The city's population, nearly 100,000, was largely engaged in trade and commerce of one kind or another. The most prominent commercial enterprise was that of the textile industry that employed upwards of 30,000 people. The financial sector was remarkably strong as well. In the 14th century, nearly 80 banking firms were cashing checks and extending credit in the city. The larger banking houses counted other European governments among their clients. A number of Florentine firms, for instance, had extended loans totaling nearly $35 million to England's Edward III, who defaulted on the loans in 1345. All told, the Florentine Republic's economic might was almost unprecedented. Will Durant notes that "the revenue of the g overnment in 1400 was greater than that of England in the heydey of Elizabeth."

All of this economic activity was organized under the supervision of seven major and fourteen minor guilds, and from these guilds the republic drew its civic leadership. The government consisted of a municipal council, the Signoria, composed of eight priori delle arte, or leaders of the guilds, who were chosen for office by the drawing of lots. These chose an executive, the gonfaloniere di giustizia or standard bearer of justice, whose position roughly corresponded with that of a modern-day president or prime minister. Serving a two-month term, the Signoria could issue executive decrees and propose legislation. It would also call a sort of crude bicameral legislature composed of the Consiglio del Popolo (Council of the People) and the Consiglio del Commune to consider and vote on proposed legislation. A two-thirds majority was required to enact a law.

This system of government, though frequently embroiled in strife born of partisan politics, nevertheless contributed greatly to the success and prosperity of the Florentine Republic. Under its guidance, the city had become, along with Venice and Milan, one of the three most important and powerful cities on the peninsula and the only one of the three with any particular attachment to the notion of human liberty. The city republic had, in fact, often concluded treaties with neighboring Italian city states -- frequently including Bologna, Pisa, Lucca, and Siena -- to secure itself and its neighbors from various threats to liberty. In 1374, for instance, the great Florentine Chancellor Coluccio Sahatati wrote to the leaders of the city of Lucca to inform them of Florence's intention to defend Lucca's liberties as if they were her own. The liberty of Florence, Salutati wrote, "appears to be all the more secure, the broader the belt of free peoples surrounding her. Therefore, everyone ought to be convinced readily that the Florentine people are the defenders of the liberty of all peoples ... since in defending them they also make the defense of their own freedom less difficult." And so the die was cast. If Giangaleazzo Visconti was to extend his dominion to the whole of the Italian peninsula, he would have to confront and defeat the Florentines. The great struggle between tyranny and liberty was about to be joined.

The Visconti War

Only a year after disposing of his uncle, Giangaleazzo Visconti took the first steps in his long-contemplated campaign for empire. In 1386, he allied himself with the Carrara, the rulers of Padua, in an attempt to capture the cities of Verona and Vicenza. This achieved, he turned on his former allies and quickly took control of Padua as well. The Florentines, alarmed by this aggression, worked frantically on the diplomatic front to encourage the Venetians to guarantee Padua's independence. When this failed, the Florentines considered direct intervention on Padua's behalf, but fear of open war with the Venetians, who had come to their own understanding with Giangaleazzo, persuaded them to hold back.

These events clarified for Florence the danger from the North. Florence therefore concentrated its diplomatic efforts on cementing a defensive alliance with neighboring cities and on trying, once again, to persuade Venice of the danger from Milan. Venice, secure behind its lagoon, ignored all such overtures, and the neighboring cities of Siena and Pisa, fearful of Milan's power, entered into negotiations of their own with the tyrant. "Thus," writes historian Hans Baron, "the very beginning of the war-filled era ... was marked by the collapse of all Florentine hopes for a united front of the free city-states on a regional, or even broader, basis."

Open conflict between Florence and Milan came in 1390. This beginning phase of a struggle that was to last, on and off, for more than a decade, was a bit anti-climactic. It involved as much, or more, intrigue and diplomacy as it did military maneuver. This left the advantage with Florence, which employed as chancellor the great rhetorician Salutati. In letter after letter, Salutati defended the cause of the republic so ably that, according to Chamberlain, Giangaleazzo "made the remark generally attributed to him that a letter of Salutati was worth a thousand horses." The pen indeed was proving mightier than the sword!

In response, Giangaleazzo hatched a plot to assassinate the chancellor. Salutati, warned of the threat to his life, indignantly responded that he would persevere in his duties regardless of any personal threats:

If, as is the duty of my office, in my own name or in that of my country I have written about him that which disturbs and offends him, he should remember that he is the enemy of my homeland. Let him recall that he is a deadly enemy for each and everyone of us; nor should he deceive himself. We are Florentines and until he becomes friends again with the Republic, he cannot hope to receive anything in word or deed from any Florentine except what is hostile and unfriendly. Indeed! Does he think that I am going to restrict my pen when, if the opportunity were given, I would not hold back the sword.

The conflict's opening stage came to a close in January 1392 with the treaty of Genoa. Historian Hans Baron, in The Crisis of the Early Italian Renaissance, observed that "the Florentine performance in the war was neither spectacular nor militarily impressive." Nevertheless, the conflict had thus far been a stalemate.

While militarily the war had ceased, diplomatically a sort of cold war took its place, with both Giangaleazzo and the Florentine Republic working to acquire a position of strength. The greatest loss to Florence, and the greatest gain to Giangaleazzo, was a pro-Milanese coup in the city of Pisa. That city had long been important to Florence, and much of the republic's commerce depended on that city's port facilities. A further gain for Giangaleazzo came at the beginning of 1395. Wenceslaus, the Holy Roman Emperor, badly in need of money, sold the title of Duke to Giangaleazzo for the sizable sum of 100,000 Florins, or about $2,500,000. The title made the Visconti hereditary rulers of the Milanese state and conveyed a greater legitimacy to the regime's actions.

In 1397, the facade of peace crumbled and Giangaleazzo's troops were once again on the march, this time intent on capturing the city of Mantua, while also making raids deep into the heart of Tuscany. Again, Salutati's rhetoric bolstered Florentine morale. In a stirring letter that spoke as much to his fellow citizens as to all Italians, the chancellor wrote:

Liberty is properly obedient to the laws while tyranny is obedient to one single man who governs everything according to his caprices. Tyranny equals fear; fear of the signore, of his suspicions, of his fickle motives, of his humours.... This is the destiny that awaits every people that Giangaleazzo succeeds in conquering. Therefore in the same act that we Florentines defend that precious thing which is our liberty, at the same time we defend the common cause of Italian liberty which, if we are conquered, shall become irremediably servant to him.

Anxious to stem the rising Visconti tide, Florence sent 3,000 cavalry to relieve the city of Mantua, which had lost 1,000 men defending the bridge over the river Po. Cavalry forces were of little use in the marshy region though, and once again, help was sought from Venice, the only naval power in the region that could plausibly intervene. This time, fearing what the fall of Mantua might mean for the future of Venice, the great city of the lagoon sent help in the form of a fleet of men-of-war manned by seasoned sailors. In support, Florence and the other allies sent a large contingent of land forces. The Milanese fleet on the Po was put to rout by these forces, and Giangaleazzo lost 6,000 men who had to be left behind during a hasty and desperate retreat. Later, a Milanese counterattack was also defeated, but the situation around the city had nevertheless become a stalemate and in May of 1398 the parties involved signed the Truce of Pavia.

The Final Confrontation

Still, the war was not over, and diplomatic maneuvering continued. In 1399, Visconti gains in Tuscany were solidified when the Milanese puppet regime in Pisa was replaced and the city openly accepted Giangaleazzo as lord. This opened the floodgates in Milan's favor. Shortly after the final capitulation of Pisa, the city of Siena, which had often kept its options open with regard to Milan, formally accepted Visconti rule. Lucca and Perugia then followed Siena. Without even mounting a military campaign, Giangaleazzo had practically surrounded the city of Florence, stripping her of all her allies save Bologna.

Isolated, Florence appealed to Rupert of the Palatinate, the newly elected rival of the Emperor Wenceslaus. Through deft diplomacy and intrigue, Rupert was persuaded to bring a large force of German soldiers into Italy to face Giangaleazzo. The smaller Visconti forces clashed with the Germans at Brescia in October 1401, defeating them soundly. Now, the triumphant Milanese turned toward Bologna with the aim of capturing Florence's last and most steadfast ally.

According to Chamberlain, the Florentine Signoria "strained their very last reserves for the defence of Bologna' sending 5,000 cavalry to aid Bologna. Facing the Florentine defenders was an invading force of 15,000 cavalry and 20,000 infantry. There was almost no hope, but, on June 26, 1402, the Florentines bravely sallied forth to meet the enemy at Casalechio, where, despite their courage, they were utterly defeated. Bologna capitulated and the way was open to Florence.

Throughout the summer, Florence, now defenseless, waited for the final attack. The city was cut off from the sea. Its trade, the lifeblood of the republic, was hopelessly snarled and disrupted. Even worse was the prospect of famine, as even in good years, significant imports of food were required to feed the city's large population. Compounding matters further, more than a decade of war had dangerously drained the city's finances. Nevertheless, Florentine diplomats continued their efforts to save the city, but last ditch attempts to convince the Papacy to intervene failed.

Still, Florence's vibrant life could not be conquered. The competition for the commission to create the doors of the Baptistry held the city's attention and work continued unabated on the massive new cathedral of Santa Maria del Fiore. Days, then weeks, passed and still the final assault did not come. Finally, as summer turned into fall, the Milanese offensive evaporated and word spread that Giangaleazzo had been carried away by the plague on September 3rd. Like Isaac in the grip of Abraham, Florence had been in the grasp of the Visconti and had been saved at the last instant by a miracle.