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The bloody battle of Montaperti had recently concluded, and as the battered survivors of the betrayed Florentine army returned to their city, negotiations began to decide the future of Tuscany. On 25 September 1260, the Congress of Empoli began.
Siena, Pisa, and Arezzo, victorious cities at Montaperti and old, sworn enemies of Florence, pressed for its complete destruction, supported by the noble counts Guidi and Alberti. According to Giovanni Villani, even Giordano d’Agliano, president of the Congress of Empoli, had received similar orders from his cousin, King Manfred of Sicily: to reduce it to a village, so that the name of Florence would no longer have power or memory[1]. The decision seemed already made, but they had not accounted for the cunning and stubborn Manente degli Uberti, leader of the Florentine Ghibellines.
Farinata degli Uberti
Also known as “Farinata”, Manente was the son of Jacopo degli Uberti, a rich and ancient noble family, whose history has always been intertwined with Florence. They were so proud of their lineage that they wanted to trace their origin back to Catilina, a noble at the head of a conspiracy during the times of the ancient Roman Republic. This is, of course, false: it seems they descended from an unspecified progenitor, already a wealthy landowner towards the end of the 11th century. However, this gives us an idea of the esteem in which the Uberti were held at the time, and how much they cared about the antiquity of their lineage.
Over the years, he became the leader of the Florentine Ghibelline faction. After all, he was related to that same Schiatta degli Uberti who participated in the assassination of Buondelmonte de’ Buondelmonti, which we covered in the first episode.
As the leader of the exiled Ghibellines, he took part in the Battle of Montaperti, and returning victorious to Florence and seizing power, he had no intention of seeing his homeland destroyed. At the Congress of Empoli, he vigorously defended his city, opening his plea with the famous motto handed down to us by Giovanni Villani and Dino Compagni, chroniclers of the time:
“com’asino sape, sì va capra zoppa; così minuzza rape, se ‘l lupo nolla ‘ntoppa”.
“As even the donkey knows, the limping goat makes little progress if the wolf does not stop it“
In other words, as even the fool knows, the man who lets himself be dragged along advances uncertainly and concludes little if a decisive man does not make decisions. He reiterated that to speak of the destruction of Florence was madness and that great troubles and dangers would ensue; and if no other choice was taken, he would defend it sword in hand, to the death. The cities of Siena, Pisa, and Arezzo, exhausted from the clash at Montaperti, knew they would not have the strength to besiege and conquer Florence. Count Giordano d’Agliano, the imperial vicar, feared an irreparable fracture within the pro-imperial Ghibelline movement, which would have condemned the fragile kingdom of his cousin Manfred of Sicily. With some reluctance, it was opted to spare the city.
Thus, Florence was saved from destruction and ruin, thanks to the intervention of Farinata degli Uberti. The Florentine people, however, were ungrateful, and unappreciative of him, his progeny, and his house, but we will talk about this in future episodes. This decision was crucial for the history of the city, of Tuscany, and even Europe: just think that the Medici family with their diplomacy and dynastic ties throughout the continent, the Italian Renaissance and its great artists, the Dominican Savonarola, and the genius of Dante Alighieri would not have been present in the historical form we all know.
It was Dante himself who immortalised Farinata in his Comedy, portraying him proud in posture and expression, which not even Hell had managed to bend.
“fu’ io solo, là dove sofferto
fu per ciascun di tòrre via Fiorenza,
colui che la difesi a viso aperto”
“I was yonder, where assent was given
by every one to do away with Florence,
the only one to openly defend her”[2]
The Guelphs flee from Florence
News of the defeat at Montaperti reached Florence with the first survivors who had escaped the massacre. Only a few days had passed since that tragic 4 September, and the city was plunged into despair, gripped by fear of imminent destruction – a terror that Giovanni Villani expressed in these words:
“When word of the grievous defeat reached Florence, and the tattered survivors came back from it, the lamentations of men and women in the city rose so high they seemed to pierce the heavens; for there was no family, rich or poor, that did not count a relative either dead or in captivity […]. Because of this, the leaders of the Guelph faction, both nobles and commoners returning from the defeat, and those who had stayed behind in Florence, were alarmed and fearful at the prospect of Ghibelline exiles—who might soon re-enter the city from Siena accompanied by German troops—coming back as rebels or those previously consigned to banishment; thus, without farewells or warning, the Guelphs, weeping as they went, fled Florence with their families on Thursday the 13th of September, in the year of Our Lord 1260, heading for Lucca.”[3].
The Guelphs fled purely out of self-preservation, knowing that the return of the Ghibelline exiles – driven out by the previous regime – was now inevitable. Another chronicler, Marchionne di Coppo Stefani, writing nearly a century later, recorded in his “Cronaca Fiorentina” the tale of a chaotic flight from the city, prompted by reports that Count Giordano d’Agliano and his knights were about to march on Florence[4]. Within the city, the Capitano del Popolo, Filippo Visdomini da Piacenza, tried to rein in the chaos, but there was little he could do. With an enemy army seemingly at the gates, many realised their only means of survival was to leave their homeland.
The fate of the exiled
The families of the Bardi, Mozzi, Frescobaldi, Cavalcanti, Pazzi, Adimari, Gianfigliazzi, Donati, Soderini, and many more packed up their dearest possessions and set off—mostly toward Lucca, a friendly Guelph stronghold on the frontier. Those who stayed behind, portrayed by later chroniclers as acting out of political expediency, chose to submit to the new reality ushered in by the victors’ arrival.
Subsequent generations wondered whether the Guelphs might have held out in Florence, yet in the event, they opted for self-imposed exile rather than attempt a defence. Perhaps the prospect of a drawn-out, brutal siege seemed intolerable; or maybe they believed they would soon return in triumph. Among those who took the path of exile was, at least in spirit, Ser Brunetto Latini – the future mentor to Dante Alighieri, whom we have already encountered as a notary in a previous post. Though away on a diplomatic mission at the court of Alfonso X of Castile, upon learning of the Guelph collapse, Brunetto chose to remain in France. He would not set foot in his homeland for the duration of Ghibelline rule.
Later reckonings tally some sixty prominent houses departing the city, accounting for perhaps a few thousand individuals—no small loss, but not a wholesale exodus given that Florence’s population was roughly seventy-five thousand at the time. Yet when one factors in the rural districts as well, the number of Guelphs hit by reprisals, confiscations, and countermeasures after Montaperti exceeded six hundred families.
Estimates of the material destruction are likewise harrowing: over one hundred palaces, countless private houses, towers, and mills, along with numerous shops and warehouses, were either destroyed or damaged. When pleas for compensation emerged during the subsequent Guelph restoration, the projected costs (exceeding 130.000 lire) underscored how the city’s opulence, so radiant before 1260, had been heavily diminished. Those who remained—particularly Ghibellines—profited from confiscated houses, towers, and assets, whereas the Guelphs suffered both dispossession and exodus.
The fate of these exiles was bound up with other Guelph-leaning or at least non-aligned cities. Lucca, for instance, continued to shelter the Florentine Guelphs, who tried to regroup by sending envoys to Germany and England, seeking aid against Manfredi and his allies. For the Florentine Guelphs, this held out a glimmer of hope: if Siena’s Ghibelline coalition, potentially dominating central Italy, grew too powerful, only foreign assistance might offer a path back to power. Indeed, the Sienese laboured to curtail the Guelphs’ dealings with Europe, believing that swelling anti-Swabian sentiment could once again tip the balance of power. Meanwhile, the Ghibelline faction extended its influence across Tuscany. Pistoia and Prato barred entry to exiled Guelphs; Arezzo, for a time, still resisted alignment with Siena and the imperial cause but soon found itself isolated.
As Siena and its allies tightened the screws, pro-Guelph strongholds preferred to shut out Florentines rather than risk suffering the fate of Montalcino or Mensano. In this spiral, Florence had fallen to the Ghibellines, and it had lost its old dominance: it could no longer assert its policies in the countryside, nor depend on a cohesive network of allies to counter the intimidation of its enemies. When Giordano d’Agliano’s army marched into Florence—Sienese troops and German knights at its head—on 16th September, just days after the Guelphs’ departure, it was the Ghibellines who took charge. Thus began the years of Ghibelline Florence.
The years of Ghibelline Florence
These were also the years of Farinata degli Uberti who, as the leader of the Florentine Ghibelline faction, effectively took the reins of the city. Supported by King Manfred of Sicily and his newly appointed vicar, Count Guido Novello of the Guidi family, Farinata introduced various changes to Florence’s political structure, making it more authoritarian. Some magistracies of the former Guelph regime were abolished (the Capitano del Popolo and the Anziani, the Elder’s Council), while others remained: the Council of Three Hundred, the Special Council of Ninety, and formally, at least, the Council of Twenty-Four Consuls of the Guilds. The Capitano del Popolo as a leading office disappeared, though podestà from outside the city continued to arrive and assume government duties. Naturally, the substance of power shifted: Florence became a Ghibelline territory, the Guelphs having fled the scene. Yet the city’s mercantile and banking classes—its economic backbone—found ways to reach a compromise. The Arti (the mercantile guilds) themselves were not dissolved; rather, their decision-making authority was curtailed, even as they continued to function.
Farinata died peacefully, probably on the of 27th April 1264, at the age of fifty-two. He was succeeded as head of Ghibelline Florence by Count Guido Novello dei Guidi, already designated as podestà and King Manfredi’s vicar. On one hand, the presence of German knights under his command served as a deterrent to any internal resistance; on the other, he carried on reorganising the institutions in such a way as to ensure the “defeated minority” a certain measure of stability—without calling the imperial victory into question. It is worth noting that several once-Guelph bankers and merchants chose to remain in Florence to safeguard their business interests. For many, it was a simple matter of pragmatism: it was better to keep trading and avoid forfeiture, even if it meant forgetting relatives lost at Montaperti. As an illustration, consider this excerpt from the source that guided me in preparing these episodes, “The Battle of Montaperti” by Prof. Duccio Balestracci:
Guittone d’Arezzo, a Guelph sympathiser, writes with bitter irony:
“E poi che li alamanni in casa avete, / servitei bene e faitevo mostrare / le spade lor con che v’àn fesso i visi, / e padri e figli ancisi;
“And now that you have the Germans in your homes, / serve them well and make sure they show you / the swords with which they cleft your faces, / and fathers and sons slew;
e piacemi che lor degiate dare, / perch’ebero en ciò fare / fatica assai de vostre gran monete”
/ and I’m glad you must give them /—since they strove so hard at it— / so many of your fine coins.”[5].
The cost of formally declaring loyalty to Count Guido Novello was borne by the bankers at least on a religious level. Pope Alexander IV (and later Urban IV) issued severe censures against these townspeople, accusing them of propping up an anti-papal government and advancing Ghibelline policies. The Arte della Lana (the Wool Guild), in particular, found itself at the heart of a papal indictment, which underscored the economic and political heft of those merchants—regarded by the pope as the true foundations of Ghibelline power in Florence.
From a Florentine viewpoint, then, the period following Montaperti was harsh, but not wholly ruinous. Certainly, the most uncompromising Guelphs either fled or were silenced; yet, the victors did not uproot all the popular classes or the wealthy guilds. Put more plainly, while the Cavalcanti, Bardi, and Frescobaldi abandoned their homeland, many other families chose to coexist with the new order—perhaps holding out hope for a future restoration—doing no more than obeying Ghibelline dictates. Meanwhile, Siena, Pisa, and the other Ghibelline cities of Tuscany reorganised themselves, forging a league built around standing military contingents. Florence, brought low under Siena’s sway, found itself paying heavy financial dues and hiring knights and infantry on the league’s behalf.
A climate of uncertainty
Within that alliance, Pisa long hesitated to commit fully, fearing harm to its relations with the pope; whereas Siena pressed for all member cities—Florence included—to keep 500 to 1,000 men in arms, defending the Ghibelline front in Tuscany. Meanwhile, outside the walls, Florentine Guelph exiles operated from Lucca, launching guerrilla raids: tensions flared during the siege of Fucecchio, a castle with a strong Guelph garrison, which in the end held out—adding to the Ghibelline League’s frustrations.
A climate of uncertainty reigned in Florence. The Ghibellines held power, flanked by magnates and merchants willing to collaborate, yet the city itself never played too active a part in the fighting, simply providing the promised resources. When, in 1264–1265, various foreign podestà succeeded one another and the Guelph stronghold in Lucca finally fell, Tuscany seemed almost entirely Ghibelline. Still, as one letter by a cardinal—cited by Villani—claims, some believed that Florence would one day rise again: “Those who have been defeated shall triumph in their turn, and they shall not forever remain the vanquished”[6]. Quite possibly a later invention, it nevertheless revealed the uncertainty surrounding the regime’s longevity.
By late 1265, the signs of instability had grown more evident. Pope Urban IV increased his pressure on the mercantile classes that supported Ghibelline rule in the city, aiming to isolate those loyal to Manfredi. Meanwhile, the Ghibelline League itself was struggling: Pisa refused to push Lucca too hard; Siena was focused on keeping tight control of the League; and Florence was beset by internal rifts, with part of the merchant class weary of pouring out funds.
I would like to end with a curious excerpt from Giovanni Villani:
“In the year of Our Lord 1264, in the month of August, a comet appeared in the sky, trailing long rays behind it; it rose in the east with a great glow, and as it progressed across the sky towards the west, its tail shone brightly; this went on for three months, until November. This comet foretold diverse and momentous changes in several parts of the world”[7].
At least on this occasion, the astrologers were right: significant changes were about to unfold, but we shall speak of those in our next episode.
Bibliography
Primary Sources
- Dante Alighieri. (2023). Inferno (A. M. Chiavacci Leonardi, Ed. & Commentary, 27th ed.). Milan: Mondadori, Oscar Classici. (Inferno, Canto X, vv. 91–93)
For English translation: Alighieri, D. (1918). The Divine Comedy, Vol. 1: Inferno (C. S. Norton, Trans.). Harvard University Press. - Marchionne di Coppo Stefani. (1780). Cronaca fiorentina, in Delizie degli eruditi toscani (Vol. XIII, pp. 135–138). Florence: Gaetano Cambiagi, Granducal Press.
- Villani, G. (1991). Nuova Cronica (G. Porta, Ed.). Parma: Fondazione Pietro Bembo / Guanda.
Secondary Sources
- Balestracci, D. (2019). The Battle of Montaperti (Chapter VIII, §4). Roma-Bari: Laterza.
[1] As Balestracci reminds us, the situation was probably different. After Montaperti, Manfred of Sicily did not truly wish to give Siena a free hand to swallow up all the surrounding territory and annihilate Florence. In fact, the king’s chief concern was to avoid losing control of events: he knew that an excessive Sienese victory might render the city too powerful, and he hoped to use Florence as a counter‑balance. Nevertheless, from the Guelph standpoint, the impression endured that Manfred was no friend and that, had he been able, he would have backed the Sienese ambition to raze Florence to the ground. On this point (as, again, for much of the information presented here), see Balestracci, D. (2019). La battaglia di Montaperti. Roma-Bari: Editori Laterza.
[2] Dante Alighieri. (2023). Comedìa. Inferno (A. M. Chiavacci Leonardi, Ed. e comm., 27ª ed.). Milano: Mondadori, Oscar Classici. (Inferno, X, 91–93).
For the English translation, see: Alighieri, D. (1918). The Divine Comedy, Vol. 1: Inferno (C. S. Norton, Trans.). Harvard University Press.
[3] “Venuta in Firenze la novella della dolorosa sconfitta, e tornando i miseri fuggiti di quella, si levò il pianto d’uomini e di femmine in Firenze sì grande, ch’andava infino a cielo; imperciò che non avea casa niuna in Firenze, piccola o grande, che non vi rimanesse uomo morto o preso; e di Lucca e del contado ve ne rimasono gran quantità, e degli Orbitani. Per la qual cosa i caporali de’ Guelfi, nobili e popolari, ch’erano tornati dalla sconfitta, e quegli ch’erano in Firenze, isbigottiti e impauriti, e temendo degli usciti che venieno da Siena colle masnade tedesche; e’ Ghibellini ribelli e confinati ch’erano fuori della cittade cominciarono a tornare nella terra; per la qual cosa i Guelfi, sanz’altro commiato o cacciamento, colle loro famiglie piagnendo uscirono di Firenze, e andarsene a Lucca, giuovedì a dì XIII di settembre, gli anni di Cristo MCCLX”
Villani, G. (1348). Nuova Cronica (VII, 79). Contemporary edition: Villani, G. (1991). Nuova Cronica (G. Porta, Ed.). Parma: Fondazione Pietro Bembo/Guanda.
[4] Stefani, M. di C. (1780). Cronaca Fiorentina, in Delizie degli eruditi toscani (Vol. XIII, pp. 135–138). Gaetano Cambiagi Stampatore Granducale. (Mentioned in Balestracci, La battaglia di Montaperti, 2019, I, 47–48)
[5] Balestracci, D. (2019). La battaglia di Montaperti. Roma-Bari: Editori Laterza. (Chapter VIII, §4)
[6] “I vinti vittoriosamente vinceranno, e in etterno non saranno vinti”
Villani, G. (1348). Nuova Cronica (VII, 80).
Modern edition: Villani, G. (1991). Nuova Cronica (G. Porta, Ed.). Parma: Fondazione Pietro Bembo/Guanda.
[7] “Negli anni di Cristo MCCLXIIII, del mese d’agosto, apparve in cielo una stella comata con grandi raggi e chioma dietro, che levandosi dall’oriente con grande luce infino ch’era al mezzo il cielo, inverso l’occidente, la sua chioma risplendea, e durò tre mesi: ciò fu infino del mese di novembre. E la detta stella comata significò diverse novitadi in più parti del secolo”
Villani, G. (1348). Nuova Cronica (VII, 91).
Modern edition: Villani, G. (1991). Nuova Cronica (G. Porta, Ed.). Parma: Fondazione Pietro Bembo/Guanda.
