Scarcely had the echoes of music and celebration faded from the Piazza San Marco when the grim spectre of famine descended upon Venice. A failed wheat harvest across Europe, compounded by the devastation wrought by the Crusades in Africa, left the Republic facing severe shortages. Appeals to mainland allies went unanswered—respect born of fear, Venice learned, did not inspire sympathy.

In response, extraordinary efforts were made to secure grain from Dalmatia, Greece, and even Asia. A modest shipment from Dalmatia arrived just in time and was distributed with strict impartiality among the population. Once the immediate crisis passed, Venice institutionalised its response: a corn office was established, led by three magistrati delle Biade, tasked with regulating the grain trade and preventing future famines. Their foresight would later be commemorated in the Cobden Madonna bas-relief at the Ducal Palace.

The Doge and the Ascendancy of the Aristocracy

By the late thirteenth century, the role of the Doge had become increasingly constrained. The coronation oath, further tightened under Jacopo Contarini in 1275, reduced the Doge to little more than a spokesperson for aristocratic rule. Yet this power was carefully justified through principles of governance: clauses required the Doge to oversee the treatment of prisoners and ensure timely trials.

Contarini, already eighty years old when elected, retired after six years on an annuity of 1,500 lire—the first pension ever granted to a Doge. His reign also marked Venice’s growing commercial assertiveness, which soon brought conflict with Bologna and revealed the Republic’s ambition to turn the Adriatic into a Venetian sea.

War, Siege, and the Limits of Ambition

Venice’s expansionist aims provoked a formidable coalition in Dalmatia, prompting the Republic to lay siege to Trieste. The campaign was marred by intrigue and brutality, including the execution of a traitor who had communicated with the enemy using messages tied to arrows. Despite early failures and humiliations, Venice eventually prevailed through mass mobilisation and sheer persistence.

A peace brokered by the Pope followed, symbolised in Venice by a vast bonfire of captured artillery in the Piazza. Pride was restored, though Venetian dominance of the Adriatic remained incomplete.

Bread in the Piazza, Justice in the Palace

A popular Venetian maxim captured the essence of aristocratic rule:

Pane in Piazza: Giustizia in Palazzo
(Bread in the market-place: Justice in the palace)

This principle guided policy even in times of disaster. When floods struck in 1284, plunging the city into misery, the government raised loans and distributed wheat at a nominal price to relieve suffering.

That same year marked a milestone in economic history: the mint issued the first gold ducat of Venice. Celebrated for its purity and consistency, the ducat—later known as the zecchino—would become a trusted currency across the commercial world for centuries.

Constitutional Crisis and Political Discipline

The death of Giovanni Dandolo in 1289 triggered a popular movement in favour of Giacomo Tiepolo, son and grandson of Doges. Though the crowd in the Piazza was menacing, Tiepolo chose civic peace over personal ambition, urging respect for the law and withdrawing from the city.

The electoral machinery held firm. Within twenty-three days, Pietro Gradenigo, a leading aristocrat, was elected Doge—without even waiting for popular approval. It was a defining moment, underscoring the supremacy of institutions over mob pressure.

Trade, Crusades, and the Rivalry with Genoa

Gradenigo’s long reign (1289–1311) reshaped Venice’s fortunes. After the fall of Acre in 1291 sealed the fate of Christian power in the Holy Land, Venice pivoted pragmatically. Treaties were concluded even with former enemies, and commerce—rather than crusading zeal—guided policy.

This realism brought Venice into bitter rivalry with Genoa. Despite papal pleas for unity to defend Cyprus, hostility only intensified. Allied fleets clashed almost immediately, scandalising Christendom while Saracen observers looked on.

Toward a Final Reckoning

As tensions escalated, Venice mobilised all her strength. Every seaman between sixteen and sixty was enrolled; noble houses were compelled to furnish ships. Naval defeats and retaliations followed, spreading from the Dardanelles to the Black Sea, where storms and winter proved as deadly as the enemy.

Diplomatic efforts failed. Even Pope Boniface VIII could not impose peace, accusing Venice of pride before withdrawing from mediation. Both republics prepared for a decisive struggle.

Marco Polo and the Battle of Curzola

Among those who offered ships and service to the Republic was Marco Polo, recently returned from decades of travel across Asia. Known as Messer Marco Milione for his astonishing tales of wealth and distant cities, he would soon play an unexpected role in history.

In 1298, Venetian and Genoese fleets met off Curzola. Despite near parity in numbers, superior Genoese seamanship proved decisive. The Venetian fleet was destroyed, thousands were killed or captured, and Marco Polo himself was taken prisoner.

During his captivity, to ease the long hours of confinement, Polo dictated the story of his travels—in halting French—to a fellow prisoner, Rustichello. From defeat and imprisonment emerged one of the most influential travel accounts ever written.

To this day, a small courtyard near the site of Polo’s former home bears the name Corte del Milione, a quiet reminder of how Venice’s turbulent history shaped not only empires, but enduring stories.