The Republic of Venice

The Republic of Venice lasted from its establishment in 697 until 12 May 1797 when Napoleon conquered Venice and the last doge stepped down. In its 1100 years, it dominated the Adriatic Sea, provided countless ships for the Crusades, and was one of the most powerful trading entities and maritime powers in the Middle Ages and Renaissance. Marco Polo's uncles were Venetian traders; accompanying them is why we know who he was.

Venice started simply because the Venetian Lagoon was the easiest way to flee from Germanic tribes invading after the decline of the Roman Empire. Those in the lagoon formed a community that grew, formed laws, and became the city of Venice.

The historian John Deacon in the 11th century stated that a certain Paolo Lucio Anafesto was proclaimed dux or duke in 697, making him the first Doge of Venice. This is disputed, since Constantinople (with Rome's fall, the Byzantine Empire had more authority over the former Roman Empire) confirmed Orso Ipato with the title dux in the early 8th century. He is seen as the first official Doge. Although Orso's son Deusdedit ruled after him, any attempt to create a dynastic rulership ultimately failed. The Doges were elected for life by the Great Council of Venice, a parliament of aristocrats and merchants.

Venice was recognized as its own entity, separate from the Byzantine Empire, in 840 when it signed a commercial agreement with Lothair I of the Carolingian Empire. This Pactum Lotharii asked that Venice help control the Slavic tribes to the east; in return, Venice was safe from invasion from the Frankish Empire. The Pact also forbade the sale of Christians to Muslims. Venice had established a thriving slave trade, capturing people in Italy and selling them to Moors in North Africa. After the Pact, Venice captured Slavs and other Eastern European non-Christians. Records show a female slave was worth 1.5 grams of gold, or about 1/3 of a dinar. Castration houses were a business in Venice, preparing slaves because of the high demand for eunuchs.

Another big business was ship-building, and Venice perfected this process in a big way. Ships were important for moving everything, including thousands of willing passengers from Europe to the east during the Crusades. Venice was involved in just about every Crusade, providing (renting) ships to the ventures. The Fourth Crusade was particularly crucial in this regard, with the Doge Enrico Dandolo taking over the Crusade and using it for his own ends.

I suppose this is a good time to segue to a larger discussion of the medieval slave trade. Venice was not alone in this lucrative market, as you will see.

Copyright–A Brief History

As understood and discussed in modern culture, copyright is a very recent development. The Berne convention in 1886 gave international attention to the protection of authorial work. The Statute of Anne in 1710 (also called An Act for the Encouragement of Learning, by Vesting the Copies of Printed Books in the Authors or Purchasers of such Copies, during the Times therein mentioned) had established that right for Britain. This is usually called the first copyright law, and there's no argument there.

The reference to copyright that has been made in the last few posts is over the Cathach, the psalter (supposedly) copied by St. Columba from the scriptorium of Abbot Finnian of Movilla in the 6th century. Finnian objected to Columba having it and, when appealed to over the conflict, the High King of Ireland Diarmait said "To every cow belongs her calf, therefore to every book belongs its copy." Whether this was the actual cause of the Battle of Cúl Dreimhne is not firmly established.

Between those two dates were other attempts at protecting the written word. Aldus Manutius (1449 - 1515), who invented the paperback and italic writing, received a privilegio from the Doge of Venice in 1502 forbidding the use or imitation by others of his italic font. Earlier in Venice, Marc' Antonio Sabellico in 1486 was given from the Venetian cabinet the sole right to publish his work on the history of the Republic; the fine was 500 ducats.

There seems to have been a "right to image" in Classical Rome for death masks and statues of one's ancestors, but the "copyright holder" was the family of the person pictured, not the artist.

Medieval writers (such as Chaucer) were less likely to write something new than they were to take a familiar story (like the Trojan War) and put their own spin on it. Even Shakespeare was getting his plots from history and literature. This seems to be the opposite of why the Statute of Anne was made (see its full title). Encouraging authors to create more by protecting the originality of their work was not something on the mind of the medieval author.

It seems to me that a strong sense of copyright in Ireland of the 6th century, as suggested by the Cathach anecdote (whose link to the Battle was made long after the event and is not corroborated by any contemporary documents) would have led to more examples of evolution of actual law over time. Columba's desire to have a copy of a manuscript was not that unusual. One of a monastery's typical functions was to copy manuscripts for preservation and dissemination, and we'll talk more about that next time.

Damnation of Memory

The Roman Severan family, with
Geta "erased" from lower
left by orders of Caracalla [link]

Memory is a tricky thing: it cannot easily be controlled, but steps can be taken.

The Roman Senate had a practice reserved for traitors to the state: Damnatio memoriae [Latin: "Damnation/Condemnation of memory"]. It was intended to remove any mention of that person from official records. On 21 April 395, the Senate condemned Eugenius (blamed for a recent civil war) to Damnatio memoriae, claiming "Let that time be reckoned as if it never was." Another famous example is when the Emperor Caracalla erased the memory of his brother, Geta, which involved physically removing his likeness from artworks. (See the image to the left.)

Damnation of memory was not strictly Roman. Queen Hatshepsut was almost wiped from Egyptian history by her ungrateful stepson, Thutmose III, in the 15th century BCE. Akhenaton promoted his brand of monotheism by removing images of the god Amon. Modern Egypt isn't immune to this practice: witness the recent removal of the name of President Hosni Mubarak and his wife from monuments and public spaces after his downfall.

Snorri Sturluson, mentioned here, tells us that the 10th century earl Hákon Sigurdarson was referred to solely as "the evil earl" long after his death.

The 55th Doge of Venice, Marino Faliero, was executed in 1355 after a failed coup, after which his portrait was removed from the Doge's palace in Venice and the space painted black. The blackened space still exists.

And Magnus Maximus was condemned with Damnatio memoriae, for all the good it did (see the previous two days' posts). Stories have a way of surviving; memory is like that.

The Fork

17th century knife and fork

There is a point in the movie Becket (taken from the play of the same name by Jean Anouilh) that introduces the fork. King Henry II has never heard of it before, and doesn't see the point.* Forks did come to England rather late, but they were around much earlier elsewhere.

Ancient Greeks used two-tined forks as serving utensils, though not for transporting food directly to the mouth. Forks show up in the Middle East by the 7th century CE, used by aristocracy. In the 11th century, the Doge of Venice, Domenico Selvio, married a Byzantine princess, Theodora, who brought to Venice a case of forks, surprising the locals with her refusal to eat with her hands. Bishop Peter Damian of Ostia attributed her death to her "excessive delicacy."

"An Englishman named Thomas Coryate brought the first forks to England after seeing them in Italy during his travels in 1608." [link] This is not true of the "first forks," since documentary evidence of forks exists in England prior to that. This site shows examples of forks in wills and household accounts:

• The Will of John Baret of Bury St. Edmunds, 1463: "Itm J. yeve and beqwethe to Davn John Kertelynge my silvir forke for grene gyngor" [my translation: "Item: I give and bequeath to Davin John Kerteling my silver fork for green ginger."
• The Jewelhouse inventory of Henry VIII: "Item one spone wt suckett fork at the end of silver and gilt" [Note: a "suckett" fork was used to get preserves like ginger out of jars; John Baret's was probably also a suckett fork.]
• Inventory of property left by Henry VII: "Item, one Case wherein are xxi knives and a fork, the hafts being crystal and chalcedony, the ends garnished with gold"
• "Item, one Case of knives furnished with divers knives and one fork, whereof two be great hafts of silver parcel-gilt, the case covered with crimson velvet"

This is not to say that everyone in England had seen forks; only that forks were known at least to the upper classes. No doubt they were often made with expensive materials, and not accessible to everyone.

They started with two tines to prevent whatever was speared from twisting. The tines were straight, however, and some foods tended to slip off. More tines were eventually added for stability, and in the late 17th century in France we start to find curved tines meant for scooping and holding food more reliably.

Our word "fork" comes from Old English forca, meaning a pitchfork, from the Latin furca for pitchfork. The French called them forchette for "little pitchfork."

*You can see a clip here.

Enrico Dandolo

This past Saturday, the 21st of June, was the anniversary of the death of Enrico Dandolo, the 42nd Doge of Venice. His tenure as Doge had great significance for Venice, and had disastrous consequences for Constantinople.

Born about 1107, he had a successful career as a diplomat who came to true prominence in 1171 when Constantinople imprisoned all Venetians and confiscated their property. The Doge at the time, Doge Vitale II Michiel, gathered a force to attack Constantinople, but the plan failed when plague in 1172 killed many in the expedition. Michiel was killed on his return to Venice by the angry citizenry, but the returning Enrico Dandolo was made ambassador to Constantinople. A treaty was finally brokered in 1186, but the enmity between Venice and Constantinople remained, as we shall see.

In 1192, Dandolo became the 42nd Doge. By this time, he was in his 80s* and blind—one contemporary chronicler (Geoffrey de Villehardouin) claimed it was due to a head wound—but his cleverness made him the popular choice, and his actions over the next decade justified it. He reformed Venetian currency, creating new coins of different denominations. One coin, the grosso, was consistently minted with 98.5% pure silver, making it a reliable standard for trade in the Mediterranean and increasing the economic prestige of Venice.

His biggest impact on history, however, came during the 4th Crusade. In the next few posts we will take a look at the 4th Crusade and why it went horribly wrong.

*This is an assumption; one scholar believes he has clear evidence for 1107 as the year of Dandolo's birth, but the level of activity he showed after becoming Doge prompts some to think he must have been a younger man.

The Doge of Venice

Doxe de Venexia.
Doge di Venezia.
The Doge of Venice.

The title is based on the Latin dux ["military leader"], from which the word "duke" comes. The Doge was not a hereditary position, but was elected for life (unless circumstances led to being forcibly ejected from the position), usually from the pool of very smart elders.

The Chronicon Venetum ["Chronicle of Venice"] by John the Deacon says the first Doge was elected about 700 as part of Venice's development as a Republic and to oversee the rivalries between the tribunes (the small number of elected positions that shared the rule of Venice). The first Doge was Paolo Lucio Anafesto (697-717) (but there is a lot of doubt as to the accuracy of this; that name is known to be the same as the Exarchate [ruler] of Ravenna.)

Some notable Doges:
Agnello Participazio (811-827), who was exiled to Zara by his son, Giustiniano, who became Doge
Pietro IV Candiano (959-976), who gave himself special privileges and powers with the support of Otto I, but lost that protection after Otto died, and found himself locked in his palace by the citizens of Venice, who then set fire to it.
Pietro II Orseolo (991-1009), who expanded Venice's influence eastward, freeing Venice from 50 years of taxation imposed by the Narentines on the east coast of the Adriatic Sea; he married the niece of Pietro IV Orseolo, Maria Candino, who became his dogaressa.

There were 120 Doges in all, the final one being Ludovico Manin (1789-1797), who was forced out of the role (never to be replaced) by Napoleon.

But the shrewdest old Doge of them all may have been the 42nd, Enrico Dandolo, who took over a Crusade and used at as a weapon for his own purposes. That's a story for tomorrow.