For more details, check out the Lombard Leagues Forum
The Lombard Leagues Mod
For quite some time, the Holy Roman Emperor -- King of the Lombards and sovereign of Italy -- was too engaged by troubles in Germany to bother with his domains south of the Alps. In the vaccum, Lombardia fell into anarchy. Count fought against count, bishop against bishop, city against city, each trying to extend their power and wealth at the other's expense.
At the same time, bereft of royal attention, the cities were turned inside out: counts lost their powers to bishops, the bishops were in turn toppled by citizens. Step by step, Lombardia fragmented into a mosaic of squabbling free communes.
Disputes between neighboring communes arose frequently. Commune declared war on commune over anything and everything - land borders, passage tolls, navigation rights, broken betrothals, perceived slights. At a moment's notice, the martinella would be rung, the carroccios* rolled out and the issue settled on the battlefield.
The multitude of communal wars was bewildering. Tortona fought Pavia, Pavia fought Milan, Milan fought Cremona, Cremona fought Piacenza, Piacenza fought Parma, Parma fought Mantua, Mantua fought everybody, and on and on and on. If the number of wars during this era was ever added up, it would number not in the dozens, but in the thousands.
It quickly became routine for two communes to pool their causes together in a common campaign against a third. Conversely, the latter would seek out an ally of her own amongst those who might have a quarrel with her assailants. Thus rival inter-city alliances began to form. And they quickly widened, spreading across the entire plains on both sides of the Po river. These alliances followed an alternating pattern: every town made war on her neighbor, and allied herself with the town next over.
During the 11th C., these alliances congealed into two grand communal leagues - one led by Pavia, the royal capital, another led by Milan, the episcopal capital. By this time, it had moved beyond the carroccio-snatching brawls over tolls and waterways. The rival Pavian and Milanese leagues were locked in a struggle for supremacy, to see whom would be the ultimate master of the entire breadth of the moribund Lombard kingdom. It was not a gentle war of manners and position either. With their civic patriotism raised to a feverish pitch, communal armies were merciless: defeated towns were often razed to the ground, their populations enslaved, mutilated or put through the sword.
At long last, in 1154, shocked by reports of such depredations and anxious about the growing ambitions of the great leagues, the Holy Roman Emperor Frederick I ("Barbarossa") descended on Italy to try to put an end to the communal strife and impose his authority over his fractured kingdom. But the Lombard communes, having grown used to ruling themselves, were not inclined to comply. They put aside their differences and formed a single front against him. In 1176, the united armies of the Lombard leagues defeated the mighty emperor at the Battle of Legnano. The emperor had little choice but to confirm the communes' independence in all but name.
For a moment - a brief moment - it seemed Lombardia might emerge united as a single federation of free communes. But it was not to be. The old quarrels were resumed and the rival leagues of Milan and Pavia were resurrected, the warring even more brutal and intense than before. It was around this time that the rival leagues adopted names reflecting a contemporary German civil war -- the Milanese league became known as the "Guelfs" (after the Welf dukes of Saxony) and the Pavian league as the "Ghibellines" (after the Hohenstaufen or "Waiblingen" dukes of Swabia). The conflict between Guelf and Ghibelline parties would dominate Italy for the remainder of the Middle Ages.
As Guelf and Ghibelline tore Lombardia apart, external powers seeking to make inroads on the upper peninsula exploited this division for their own gain. In the great contest for western supremacy, the Pope secured the backing of the Guelfs, while the Ghibellines lent their forces to the Emperor. Later, the Guelfs would line up with the French, the Ghibellines with the Germans. But those foreign alignments were not set in stone. Should European politics take a new turn, it was not unusual for Guelfs and Ghibellines to swap sides en masse. It was the league rivalry in and of itself, not anything else, that mattered.
The Guelf-Ghibelline conflict was not limited to Lombardia for very long. A copycat conflict burst out soon after in hitherto peaceful Tuscany and later, spread into the Papal States themselves.
As the struggle evolved, the parties not only divided cities from each other, but also began dividing cities within themselves. As different internal factions struggled for control of the levers of civic power, some parties identified themselves as Guelf, others as Ghibelline, so as to secure military support from some neighboring commune. These partisan identities deepened and solidified along class and family lines and quickly became permanent fissures in Italian city life. This is the backdrop of Shakespeare's Romeo & Juliet: the Montagues were Ghibelline, the Capulets Guelf.
With rivalry so intense, the parties differentiated themselves in all manner of absurd detail - Guelf castles had square battlements, Ghibelline swallow-tailed; Guelfs sported red roses, Ghibellines white roses; Guelfs wore the plume of their cap on the right, Ghibellines wore it on the left; Guelfs swore oaths by raising their thumb, Ghibellines raised their index finger; Guelfs drank out of chisselled cups, Ghibellines out of plain cups; Guelfs cut their garlic and apples perpindicularly, Ghibellines cut them across; their differences went down to the precise tilt of Christ's head on their crosses, to the way they threw dice, passed on the street, yawned, cracked their fingers and more.
In Medieval Italy, grand causes were nothing, partisanship was everything. At the slightest excuse or provocation, Guelf would murder Ghibelline, Ghibelline would war on Guelf.
It was in this anarchic, deeply partisan milieu that a few ambitious individuals - many little more than mercenary captains, some quite lowly-born - ventured upon the land. By their military careers and deft exploitation of the different parties, they gradually seized control of the communes and erected great private fiefs for themselves. Many of the liberties the communes had fought for so hard were squandered as these great lords brought town after town under their personal dictatorship.
These strongmen - "i grande Signori" - would evolve into the infamous tyrants of Italy whose names are so well known to us -- the Viscontis of Milan, the Della Scalas of Verona, the Carraras of Padua, the d'Estes of Ferrara, the Coreggios of Parma, and others. But perhaps none was as notorious was the very first "Signore" of them all: Ezzelino da Romano, the cruel Veronese captain who nearly succeeded in seizing all of Lombardia.
You enter upon 12th C. Italy like so many of them did - a vagabond with a lame horse, a dagger and a whole lot of ambition. Lombardia stands broken before you. Guelf and Ghibelline are at each other's throats. Will you succeed in becoming a great Signore yourself? Might you even outdo fierce Ezzelino himself? Or perhaps you would prefer to raise your sword for the cause of the Pope and the greater glory of God? Or for the Emperor and imperial right? Or appoint yourself deliverer, restoring freedom and peace to this long-suffering land?
______
* - The entire pride and honor of a commune was embodied in her battle-wagon ("carroccio"), a sturdy ox-drawn cart carrying an altar, upon which was mounted the war-bell ("martinella") and sacred banner ("gonfalon") of the commune. The carroccio accompanied the commune's armies to battle. Priests stood on it to invoke the blessing of heaven on the soldiers. Losing the carroccio to the enemy was regarded as the extreme of disgrace. It was defended by the commune's bravest soldiers ("Compagnia della Morte", as they were specially sworn to a death pact for it).
The Lombard Leagues Mod
For quite some time, the Holy Roman Emperor -- King of the Lombards and sovereign of Italy -- was too engaged by troubles in Germany to bother with his domains south of the Alps. In the vaccum, Lombardia fell into anarchy. Count fought against count, bishop against bishop, city against city, each trying to extend their power and wealth at the other's expense.
At the same time, bereft of royal attention, the cities were turned inside out: counts lost their powers to bishops, the bishops were in turn toppled by citizens. Step by step, Lombardia fragmented into a mosaic of squabbling free communes.
Disputes between neighboring communes arose frequently. Commune declared war on commune over anything and everything - land borders, passage tolls, navigation rights, broken betrothals, perceived slights. At a moment's notice, the martinella would be rung, the carroccios* rolled out and the issue settled on the battlefield.
The multitude of communal wars was bewildering. Tortona fought Pavia, Pavia fought Milan, Milan fought Cremona, Cremona fought Piacenza, Piacenza fought Parma, Parma fought Mantua, Mantua fought everybody, and on and on and on. If the number of wars during this era was ever added up, it would number not in the dozens, but in the thousands.
It quickly became routine for two communes to pool their causes together in a common campaign against a third. Conversely, the latter would seek out an ally of her own amongst those who might have a quarrel with her assailants. Thus rival inter-city alliances began to form. And they quickly widened, spreading across the entire plains on both sides of the Po river. These alliances followed an alternating pattern: every town made war on her neighbor, and allied herself with the town next over.
During the 11th C., these alliances congealed into two grand communal leagues - one led by Pavia, the royal capital, another led by Milan, the episcopal capital. By this time, it had moved beyond the carroccio-snatching brawls over tolls and waterways. The rival Pavian and Milanese leagues were locked in a struggle for supremacy, to see whom would be the ultimate master of the entire breadth of the moribund Lombard kingdom. It was not a gentle war of manners and position either. With their civic patriotism raised to a feverish pitch, communal armies were merciless: defeated towns were often razed to the ground, their populations enslaved, mutilated or put through the sword.
At long last, in 1154, shocked by reports of such depredations and anxious about the growing ambitions of the great leagues, the Holy Roman Emperor Frederick I ("Barbarossa") descended on Italy to try to put an end to the communal strife and impose his authority over his fractured kingdom. But the Lombard communes, having grown used to ruling themselves, were not inclined to comply. They put aside their differences and formed a single front against him. In 1176, the united armies of the Lombard leagues defeated the mighty emperor at the Battle of Legnano. The emperor had little choice but to confirm the communes' independence in all but name.
For a moment - a brief moment - it seemed Lombardia might emerge united as a single federation of free communes. But it was not to be. The old quarrels were resumed and the rival leagues of Milan and Pavia were resurrected, the warring even more brutal and intense than before. It was around this time that the rival leagues adopted names reflecting a contemporary German civil war -- the Milanese league became known as the "Guelfs" (after the Welf dukes of Saxony) and the Pavian league as the "Ghibellines" (after the Hohenstaufen or "Waiblingen" dukes of Swabia). The conflict between Guelf and Ghibelline parties would dominate Italy for the remainder of the Middle Ages.
As Guelf and Ghibelline tore Lombardia apart, external powers seeking to make inroads on the upper peninsula exploited this division for their own gain. In the great contest for western supremacy, the Pope secured the backing of the Guelfs, while the Ghibellines lent their forces to the Emperor. Later, the Guelfs would line up with the French, the Ghibellines with the Germans. But those foreign alignments were not set in stone. Should European politics take a new turn, it was not unusual for Guelfs and Ghibellines to swap sides en masse. It was the league rivalry in and of itself, not anything else, that mattered.
The Guelf-Ghibelline conflict was not limited to Lombardia for very long. A copycat conflict burst out soon after in hitherto peaceful Tuscany and later, spread into the Papal States themselves.
As the struggle evolved, the parties not only divided cities from each other, but also began dividing cities within themselves. As different internal factions struggled for control of the levers of civic power, some parties identified themselves as Guelf, others as Ghibelline, so as to secure military support from some neighboring commune. These partisan identities deepened and solidified along class and family lines and quickly became permanent fissures in Italian city life. This is the backdrop of Shakespeare's Romeo & Juliet: the Montagues were Ghibelline, the Capulets Guelf.
With rivalry so intense, the parties differentiated themselves in all manner of absurd detail - Guelf castles had square battlements, Ghibelline swallow-tailed; Guelfs sported red roses, Ghibellines white roses; Guelfs wore the plume of their cap on the right, Ghibellines wore it on the left; Guelfs swore oaths by raising their thumb, Ghibellines raised their index finger; Guelfs drank out of chisselled cups, Ghibellines out of plain cups; Guelfs cut their garlic and apples perpindicularly, Ghibellines cut them across; their differences went down to the precise tilt of Christ's head on their crosses, to the way they threw dice, passed on the street, yawned, cracked their fingers and more.
In Medieval Italy, grand causes were nothing, partisanship was everything. At the slightest excuse or provocation, Guelf would murder Ghibelline, Ghibelline would war on Guelf.
It was in this anarchic, deeply partisan milieu that a few ambitious individuals - many little more than mercenary captains, some quite lowly-born - ventured upon the land. By their military careers and deft exploitation of the different parties, they gradually seized control of the communes and erected great private fiefs for themselves. Many of the liberties the communes had fought for so hard were squandered as these great lords brought town after town under their personal dictatorship.
These strongmen - "i grande Signori" - would evolve into the infamous tyrants of Italy whose names are so well known to us -- the Viscontis of Milan, the Della Scalas of Verona, the Carraras of Padua, the d'Estes of Ferrara, the Coreggios of Parma, and others. But perhaps none was as notorious was the very first "Signore" of them all: Ezzelino da Romano, the cruel Veronese captain who nearly succeeded in seizing all of Lombardia.
You enter upon 12th C. Italy like so many of them did - a vagabond with a lame horse, a dagger and a whole lot of ambition. Lombardia stands broken before you. Guelf and Ghibelline are at each other's throats. Will you succeed in becoming a great Signore yourself? Might you even outdo fierce Ezzelino himself? Or perhaps you would prefer to raise your sword for the cause of the Pope and the greater glory of God? Or for the Emperor and imperial right? Or appoint yourself deliverer, restoring freedom and peace to this long-suffering land?
______
* - The entire pride and honor of a commune was embodied in her battle-wagon ("carroccio"), a sturdy ox-drawn cart carrying an altar, upon which was mounted the war-bell ("martinella") and sacred banner ("gonfalon") of the commune. The carroccio accompanied the commune's armies to battle. Priests stood on it to invoke the blessing of heaven on the soldiers. Losing the carroccio to the enemy was regarded as the extreme of disgrace. It was defended by the commune's bravest soldiers ("Compagnia della Morte", as they were specially sworn to a death pact for it).
:p). The monastic knights sport a green cross of St. Maurice (a small tip of the hat to the House of Savoy). This knights may seem out-of-place in this Italian scenario, but should I ever decide to translate this into a Crusader or Reconquista mod, they will be very useful.
