Venice and the Burden of Dominion

Venice never denied her enlightened and paternal rule, which extended even to the regulation of ladies’ dress and the duties of wet nurses. Yet the “insatiable greed” of St Mark had stirred the jealousies of the transalpine monarchies. The League of Cambrai, which would ultimately shatter Venetian power on the mainland, was the direct consequence of the policies pursued under Doge Francesco Foscari.

While public attention was fixed upon the Milanese war and the alarming news of Turkish advances in the Morea, a grave domestic scandal weighed heavily upon the Fathers of the Republic.

The Accusation of Jacopo Foscari

In February 1445, Jacopo Foscari, the Doge’s only surviving son, was denounced before the Council of Ten. He stood accused of accepting bribes in exchange for using his influence over his father in the allocation of state offices.

Jacopo was a cultivated but pleasure-loving nobleman. His splendid marriage festivities in 1441 had captivated even the most critical Venetians. Yet he was charged with having “regard neither to God nor man,” and of accepting money and jewels in violation of the law.

Summoned to appear before the Tribunal on the 18th, assisted by a Zonta of ten nobles, Jacopo grew suspicious when his valet was arrested the day before. When the officers arrived to serve the warrant, it was discovered that Jacopo had fled to Trieste, taking with him all the money he could gather.

The Tribunal, having excluded the Doge and his relatives, proceeded in his absence. Jacopo was found guilty and sentenced to perpetual banishment in Nauplia.

The Dogaressa was denied permission to visit him. Marco Trevisano was dispatched with a galley to enforce the sentence, but Jacopo refused to embark. The penalty for such defiance was outlawry and death between the two columns. Though the Ten refrained from enforcing the extreme sentence, they implored the Doge to persuade his son to obey the law. All efforts failed. On April 7th, the sentence was confirmed and Jacopo’s property confiscated.

A Brief Reprieve and Renewed Suspicion

For more than a year Jacopo lived defiantly in Trieste. New revelations led to the appointment of another Zonta. Five months passed. Trevisano died, and Jacopo fell ill. The Ten, invoking the name of Christ, accepted his excuses and substituted confinement in his own country house near Treviso for exile.

The affair seemed dormant until April 1447, when a chest containing 2,040 ducats and silver plate, received from the Duke of Milan, was discovered. The money was confiscated, but no further action was taken.

In September, the Doge submitted a pitiful petition for his son’s pardon. The Ten resolved that, given the troubled state of public affairs, Jacopo should be restored to his family as an act of piety toward the Doge.

Murder, Torture, and Final Exile

Three years later, tragedy struck again. On a November evening, Ermolao Donato, one of the Capi who had judged Jacopo, was assassinated. The investigation failed—until January 2nd, 1451, when a signed denunciation was found in the Bocca del Leone.

Jacopo was arrested and subjected to torture. No confession was obtained, only incoherent muttering. Nevertheless, on March 26th, he was declared guilty on circumstantial evidence and banished to Canea, in Crete, where he was required to report daily to the Podestà.

In 1456, cyphered despatches revealed that Jacopo had written to both the Duke of Milan and the Turkish Sultan, begging for intervention or abduction. He was recalled to Venice, where he confessed everything.

The death penalty was proposed but rejected. Jacopo was sentenced to return to Canea and endure a year’s imprisonment. Brought into the presence of his father, bearing the marks of torture, the scene was one of unbearable sorrow.

“Father,” cried Jacopo, “I beseech you, procure for me permission to return to my home.”

“Jacopo,” replied the Doge, “thou must obey the will of the land.”

Six months later, news arrived from Crete: Jacopo Foscari was dead.

The Deposition of the Doge

The blow shattered Francesco Foscari. He withdrew from public life, sinking into mute despair. The machinery of government stalled. At last, the Ten resolved to act.

After excluding the Doge’s relatives, they requested—then demanded—his resignation. Offered a pension and time to reflect, Foscari refused. He was finally informed that failure to resign would result in confiscation of his property.

On Sunday, October 23rd, in the presence of the Ten and the chief officers of State, he silently removed the ducal ring. It was broken. The ducal cap was taken from his head.

The fallen Doge was ordered to retire to his house at San Pantaleone.

The next morning, leaning on a crutch and accompanied by a few weeping relatives, he left the palace. When urged to take a covered stairway, he replied:

“I will descend by the same stairs up which I mounted to the Dogeship.”

Bent by eighty-four years and thirty-four years of rule, he descended in silence the steps he had once climbed in triumph.

Death and Judgment

On October 30th, Pasquale Malipiero was elected Doge. Two days later, during Mass at St Mark’s, news arrived: Francesco Foscari was dead.

The Ten, perhaps stung by remorse, ordered a magnificent funeral. Wrapped in cloth of gold, crowned, spurred, and armed, the body lay in state in the Senate Hall. The procession crossed the Rialto to the Church of the Frari, where his monument still stands.

The Cost of Glory

Tomaso Mocenigo had left Venice prosperous and at peace. Under Foscari, she was left bankrupt.

The Milanese war alone had cost seven million sequins. State funds collapsed. Taxes rose. Loans were forced. Salaries went unpaid. Trade faltered. Population declined.

Such was the price of ambition—the dark ledger beneath one of the most brilliant and tragic reigns in Venetian history.