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The murder of Buondelmonte on Easter Sunday 1216 drove a wedge between the most eminent Florentine families, a rivalry that soon exacerbated the ongoing city disputes. This fateful event was used by later historians to mark the beginning of the civil war that would drench the blooming Florence in the blood of its citizens for the next one hundred years: the feud between Guelphs and Ghibellines.
Guelphs and Ghibellines
However, to fully grasp the Florence of that era, it is imperative to understand this dualism. A widespread misconception is that the Ghibellini in Florence supported the Empire and the attempts to unify Italian territory, while the Guelfi backed the Papacy and independence from imperial power. Even if those two factions were present in medieval Italy, that assumption is incorrect: they were local factions, coveting local power, and they proclaimed themselves Gueplhs or Ghibellines depending on who could support them, the reigning Emperor or the current Pope.
The origin of the terms themselves, already subject to various speculative theories in the 14th century, is irrelevant. As Bartolo da Sassoferrato, a renowned 14th-century jurist, pointed out, far more important is the fact that “in provinces and cities where divisions and factions exist, it is necessary that these be named in some way; thus, in the assembly, the most common names are imposed, so to speak; and in this, there is generally no respect for the Church or the Empire, but only for those factions that exist in the city or province”[1].
The Rise of Florence
Such a division in the struggle for power between Guelphs and Ghibellines would have been difficult if there had been no power to seize. The urban core of Florence had become independent from the Margraviato di Toscana (Marquisate of Tuscany) in 1115, following the death of the legendary “Great Countess”, Matilda di Canossa, and the extinction of the Cadolingi, the dynasty that controlled the territories west of the city. From that moment, a rapid territorial expansion began at the expense of small feudal lordships that could do little against a now consolidated urban centre, and the conflict with neighbouring cities[2] – or sometimes a political relationship, as with Pisa. This led to a significant economic expansion, which will be discussed in future posts, and the formation of the Arti (artisan and merchant guilds).
The Florentine Republic was established in 1138 following the conquest and destruction of the neighbouring city of Fiesole, and the subsequent centralization of the population in the city. Likely aiming to emulate the Roman form of government, it was placed under the leadership of two Consuls, assisted by a hundred counsellors, who set about drafting laws and statutes. While still formally under the influence of the Empire, it can be assumed that these “two city consuls and council of the senate“[3] were nonetheless members of the dominant families, comprising elements of the city’s aristocracy and clergy.
Regarding the Arts, the concept is somewhat more complex. Associative forms of workers have been present since antiquity, whether merchants or artisans, aimed at protecting common interests. Traces of these “corporations” (called, in Latin, collegia or corpora) can be found as far back as the Roman Republic[4], but during the Late Empire and the Germanic invasions, they increasingly declined, eventually reverting to simple associations of workers sharing the same trade[5]. We will see their expansion later; for now, let’s just say that they gradually gained more influence, eventually forming into true corporations.
From 1182[6] we have evidence of an initial merchant corporation, the Arte dei Mercatanti (Art of Merchants) or di Calimala, named after the still-existing street where their shops were concentrated. In the following decades, a series of other corporations appeared, each equipped with its administrative bodies, headquarters, and emblems; thus were born the Arts of the judges and notaries, wool workers, doctors and apothecaries, silk workers, grocers, furriers, and then also the second-hand dealers, shoemakers, money changers, stonecutters and carpenters, blacksmiths and ironworkers[7]. This organized proliferation of artisan corporations gave the city, on one hand, an economic weight that attracted the attention of various emperors, on the other hand, it initiated a series of internal tensions within the city, which over the years would repeatedly transform into divisions and civil wars.
In 1193, the city government was reformed with the election of Gherardo Caponsacchi as podestà (the chief magistrate of a city-state), effectively abolishing the Consuls and replacing them with this figure who arbitrated the city’s political disputes, only nominally impartial. Attempts were then made to choose a podestà uninvolved in city politics by appointing foreigners, like Gualfredotto da Milano[8], but to no avail.
Tuscany and the Emperor Frederick II of Swabia
In the early thirteenth century, the heart of Tuscany was ablaze with tension: Emperor Frederick II of Swabia and the popes who opposed him were on the verge of opening a new front of conflicts that would ultimately split the city-states into two factions—Guelphs (aligned with the papacy) and Ghibellines (siding with the empire). Yet as we have noted, the divide was hardly ever as clear-cut as it appeared: many cities strove to remain independent, ready to join the Pars Ecclesiae (the Church’s faction) or the Pars Imperii (the Empire’s faction) according to circumstance.
It all began when the ambitious and formidable Emperor Frederick II was excommunicated in 1227 for failing to launch a crusade within the appointed time. Even his subsequent expedition to the Holy Land (1228–1229), driven more by diplomacy than military force, was not enough to reconcile him with the pope straight away, as the Church meanwhile accused him of coveting territories in southern Italy and papal domains.
This clash at the highest level rippled through Tuscany like an earthquake, aggravating long-standing rivalries among the city-states vying for regional supremacy and already poised to wage war on one another. A powder keg was primed to explode, and in 1228 it was Florence who lit the fuse.
Tuscany at war
Traditionally inclined to support the pope, Florence led an offensive against Pistoia in 1228, assisted by Lucca, Prato, Arezzo, and Volterra. Rival Siena and Pisa tried in vain to rush to Pistoia’s defence. Pistoia eventually surrendered on heavy terms, and the following year the conflict shifted to Montepulciano, coveted by Siena but swiftly protected by Florence. Once again, Florence moved quicker, forcing the attackers to withdraw. “Ci partimo da Montepulciano e non potemo seghuire l’anpresa nostra per quella volta” lamented the sorrowful Anonymous Sienese chronicler[9]. In the ensuing chaos, even Orvieto and Pistoia changed allegiances more than once, reflecting a fragmented and turbulent landscape.
Meanwhile, Frederick II sought to impose a general peace among the cities, calling the Diet of Ravenna (1231), but its effects did not last. The reformation of the Lombard League and the emperor’s refusal to uphold the privileges enshrined by the Peace of Constance sowed new divisions. Furthermore, his excommunication and worsening relations with the papacy emboldened certain city-states to exploit the emperor’s weakness for local advantage. Others, in the meantime, dug in behind Ghibelline lines, hoping to benefit from Frederick’s power. Tuscany was plunged into near-constant warfare: after Montepulciano, the epicentre of fighting shifted repeatedly among Siena, Florence, and Pisa, drawing in smaller communities such as Poggibonsi, San Gimignano, Colle Val d’Elsa, and Montalcino. Medieval chronicles from those years recount sieges, night raids, demolished fortifications, ambushes, and sudden counterattacks.
These rivalries ran so deep, and the times were so tumultuous, that the few surviving sources often contradict one another. Consider, for instance, the 1230 assault mounted by the Florentine army against Siena itself. According to the Chronicle of the Anonymous Sienese, the attackers suffered a calamitous defeat, with hundreds killed and 1,360 taken prisoner. Florence’s own Giovanni Villani, however, tells a completely different tale. In his account, it was the Florentines who triumphed, destroying some twenty castles and strongholds in the Sienese territory, cutting down the ancient pine of Montecellese, and returning home with over twelve hundred captives. We need not dwell on who was right, but their words shine a light on the turbulence of those years.
Pope Gregory IX and Emperor Frederick II briefly appeared to reconcile, but the truce was short-lived. In 1235, Cardinal Bishop Jacopo da Pecorara pronounced a peace settlement at Poggibonsi that clearly favoured Florence, enabling it to present itself as the “peacemaker” of various Tuscan centres. Yet by 1236, divisions flared again within Florence, and the podestà Guglielmo Venti—seen as sympathetic to the Ghibelline cause—was forced to leave the city.
A civil war under the high towers
Florence was already split in two by internal struggles, which had degenerated into a civil war under the high towers of various families, covering the city’s sky at the time. Given the overwhelming Ghibelline forces, aided by imperial troops, the Guelphs’ families abandoned the city during Easter 1239. They camped as an enemy army in the nearby village of Signa.
The Ghibellines attacked and defeated them before they could consolidate and organise into a solid defensive position. Numerous Guelphs returned to the city to protect what could be saved; others fled. Following their initial success, the Ghibellines showed clemency: perhaps in the hope of seeing their dominion stabilise and endure over time, they attempted to gain the favour of neutral citizens, including some Guelphs. However, the civil strife within the walls did not cease, even during Florence’s wars against the rival cities of Pisa and Siena.
Tuscan affairs remained in turmoil even as Frederick expanded his influence, appointing Podestà and Capitani to govern the cities. Between 1237 and 1241, his rule was marked by the victory at Cortenuova over Milan and other pro-papal city-states in northern Italy.
From the manuscript of Giovanni Villani, Nova Cronica
14th century, ms. Chigi L VIII 296, fol. 76v, Vatican Apostolic Library
I would like to pause for a moment. Talking about stories so far from us in time, we often risk forgetting that those are the last testimonies of human beings. Their wars, terrible and atrocious like those of today. This is what Pier delle Vigne wrote, when the dust settled on the plain of Cortenuova:
“who can describe the heaps of corpses and the number of captives?… the Germans dyed their swords in blood;… the loyal Cremonese with the other states satiated their axes with blood; the Saracens emptied their quivers. Never in any war were so many corpses piled up; had not night come on suddenly, none of the enemy would have fled from the Emperor’s hand”
Pier delle Vigne, quoted in Kington-Oliphant T. L., History of Frederick II: Emperor of the Romans, Vol.II. Cambridge, 1862, p.54
Guelphs and Ghibellines after the Battle of Cortenuova
After that fateful day, among growing hostilities with Gregory IX, the Pars Imperii once more undermined the fragile peace: in 1241, the city of Pisa, assisted by King Enzo of Sardinia—Frederick’s illegitimate son—captured the papal fleet en route to a council in Rome.
The death of Gregory IX and the subsequent election of Innocent IV did little to heal the rift. The new pope subscribed to the concept of “plenitudo potestatis”, holding that every sovereign, even the emperor, was subordinate to him — made plain in 1245 at Lyon, when he formally deposed Frederick II.
This move reignited conflicts in Tuscany, where uprisings erupted in multiple cities. Despite leaning towards the Guelphs, Florence was briefly obliged to host Frederick II’s other illegitimate son, Frederick of Antioch, as imperial vicar. The latter did not establish a permanent residence in the city but delegated his representatives to act on his behalf, who, predictably, supported the Ghibelline faction that dominated Florence.
In 1248, the Guelphs hoped to regain strength and influence. Bologna offered them support across the Apennines. Hoping to reverse their fortunes through a revolt, without further hesitation, the Ghibelline towers were attacked on all fronts. According to the chronicler Giovanni Villani, the Emperor had sent letters to the loyal Uberti family, advising them to “expel from the city their enemies called Guelphs[11]”, promising them the support of a contingent of knights. Villani continues, telling us how “thus began dissent and civil war in Florence, where the city began to unravel, and the nobles and all the people took sides, some on one side and some on the other; and in many parts of the city, they fought for a long time”.
The civic struggles became increasingly violent, with fierce clashes throughout the city, where both factions had brought with them the entire mass of citizens and commoners who depended on the wealth of individual affluent families. It was in one of these clashes, near the church of San Pancrazio, that the Guelph leader, Rustico Marignolli, fell, struck in the face by a crossbow bolt; having lost their leader, the Guelphs retreated.
Upon hearing of the tumults in Florence, Frederick of Antioch gathered armed troops in the castle of the nearby city of Prato to aid the Ghibellines besieged in the towers. Leading 1600 knights, he made his way to the city gates and, with his arrival, the Ghibellines launched a counterattack. They fought “at the barricades, or barriers, from one neighbourhood to another, and from tower to tower; and with mangonels, and other devices, they battled together day and night”.
The Guelphs held out for two days, but on the night before the feast of Candlemas, on the 2nd February 1248, after burying their leader Rustico Marignolli in the church of San Lorenzo, they decided to abandon the city. They set off into exile, seeking refuge in the Guelph castles nearby, and also reached the city of Lucca, where, however, they were not warmly received. The emperor’s menacing influence extended over Tuscany, and there was fear of reprisals and vendettas. Frederick of Antioch, in the end, ordered the demolition of the towers of the fleeing Guelphs.
A decisive turning point came on 29 May 1249, when King Enzo was captured at Fossalta by troops from Bologna. The imperial power in Tuscany was waning, and with it, the Ghibelline grip on Florence. The population was exhausted by decades of conflicts carried out by noble families, who “lorded over the land and burdened the people with unbearable weights, pounds, and taxes; and […] tyrannised the people with severe extortions, abuses, and injuries”.
Seeing the battered Ghibelline army return, fallen victim to a Guelph ambush while aiding the siege of a nearby castle, the population rose in revolt. Under the leadership of Uberto da Lucca, thirty-six citizens, neither Guelphs nor Ghibellines, with the favour of the entire population, gathered in the towers of Marignolli and Anchioni to give the city a new government; it was October 20th, 1250.
But the true watershed arrived only weeks later, on 13 December 1250, when Frederick II died.
The death of Emperor Frederick II
Let me close this post with a small anecdote: Emperor Frederick II had always kept his distance from Florence, heeding a prophecy that foretold his demise sub flore. By late 1250, he was in Apulia, ravaged by a severe abdominal illness. His condition deteriorated so rapidly that taking him to his palace in Lucera was out of the question, and his court sought refuge in a fortified settlement near present-day Torremaggiore. Bent with pain, he asked the name of the place where he had been brought for treatment. “Castel Fiorentino,” they replied. Frederick accepted his fate.
Rumours have long swirled around the emperor’s sudden passing, from poisoning to a murder plotted by another of his illegitimate sons, Manfred. We shall address that in a future post; for now, suffice it to say that news of his death swept across Tuscany like a storm.
With the formidable Frederick II gone, the Ghibellines lost their central figure, while the popes continued to exert pressure and assert the sacred rights of the Throne of St Peter.
The wars between Guelphs and Ghibellines had only just begun.
Bibliography
- Anonymous. (n.d.). Cronaca senese (14th century). As cited in Balestracci, D. (2017). La battaglia di Montaperti (p. 27). Laterza.
- Bartolo da Sassoferrato. (n.d.). De Guelphis et Gebellinis. As cited in Salvemini, G. (1974). Magnati e popolani in Firenze dal 1280 al 1295. Feltrinelli.
- Canaccini F. (2010) Restano i termini, mutano i significati: Guelfi e Ghibellini. L’evoluzione semantica dei nomi delle fazioni medioevali italiane. In: Lotta politica nell’Italia medievale, 85-94
- Cardini, F. (2007). Breve storia di Firenze. Pacini.
- Cavalli, A. (1914). Il fenomeno associativo dai collegia antichi alle corporazioni medioevali. Rivista Internazionale di Scienze Sociali e Discipline Ausiliarie, 66(262), 149–176.
- Davidsohn, R. (1956–1968). Geschichte von Florenz (Vol. 1). Firenze.
- Kington-Oliphant, T. L. (1862). History of Frederick II: Emperor of the Romans (Vol. 2, p. 54). Cambridge University Press.
- Solmi, A. (1929). Arti. In Enciclopedia Italiana. Treccani.
- Gasparri S., Di Salvo A., Simoni F. (2002). Antologia delle fonti bassomedievali, XV, Aristocrazia e Popolo nelle città italiane, 4. Il caso di Firenze, 2, Il Comune e il Popolo, Reti Medievali
- Villani, G. (1991). Nuova Cronica (G. Porta, Ed.). Fondazione Pietro Bembo/Guanda
[1] “Hodie vero nomina predicta durant propter alias affectiones. In provinciis et civitatibus, in quibus sunt divisioues et partialitates, necesse est ut diete partes aliquo nomine vocentur; ideo dieta nomina imponuntur tamquam magis coramunia; et in hoc non habetur communiter respectum ad ecclesiam vel imperium, sed solum ad illas partialitates, que in civitate vel provincia sunt.”
Bartolo da Sassoferrato, De Guelphis et Gebellinis, mentioned in Salvemini G., Magnati e popolani, cit., p.7, translation by the author.
[2] For the events concerning the early years of the Florentine Consulate, as well as its territorial expansion, refer to Cardini F. Breve storia di Firenze, cit., pp.30-48 and Villani G., Nuova Cronica, cit., Books 6-7
[3] Villani G., Nuova Cronica, cit., 5, 8
[4] Cavalli, A. Il fenomeno associativo dai collegia antichi alle corporazioni medioevali, in “Rivista Internazionale Di Scienze Sociali e Discipline Ausiliarie”, vol. 66, no. 262, 1914, pp. 149–76. Available on JSTOR
[5] Solmi A., “Arti“, in Enciclopedia Italiana, Treccani, 1929.
[6] Cardini F., Breve storia di Firenze, cit., pp.33
[7] “Arti dei giudici e dei notai, lanaioli, medici e speziali, setaioli e merciari, pellicciai, rigattieri, calzolai, cambiavalute, tagliapietre e carpentieri, fabbri e ferraioli.“
Villani G., Nuova Cronica, cit., 8, 13.
[8] Villani G., Nuova Cronica, cit., 6,32
[9] Cronaca senese di autore anonimo del sec. XIV, R.I.S.2 15/6, as mentioned in Balestracci D., La Battaglia di Montaperti, Laterza, 2017, p.27
[10] Pier delle Vigne, quoted in Kington-Oliphant T. L., History of Frederick II: Emperor of the Romans, Vol.II. Cambridge, 1862, p.54
[11] Villani G., Nuova Cronica, 7, 33
