The Rise of a Doge

The festivities celebrating the elevation of Michel Steno in 1400—now an experienced and upright officer of the State—are said to have lasted nearly a year. Yet amid the splendour, a subtle but meaningful change was introduced by the correctors of the Coronation Oath: the Doge was no longer to be addressed as domine mi, but simply as Messer lo Doge. The symbolism was clear—authority tempered by restraint.

The Homage of Verona

On a midsummer day in 1405, a great platform was erected outside St Mark’s, where the Doge, supported by his chief officers of State, received the homage of Verona. The twenty-one Veronese ambassadors rode in solemn procession, clothed in white and mounted on chargers draped in white taffeta.

They dismounted before the Doge and bowed three times. High Mass followed. Then the chief orator presented his credentials and delivered an address beginning with the words:

“Glory to God in the highest.”

He surrendered the official seals and handed over the keys of the Porta S. Giorgio, the Porta Vescovo, and the Porta Calzoni—symbols respectively of the knights and doctors, the merchants and citizens, and the common people.

Two banners were presented next: one bearing a white cross on a red field, the other a golden cross on blue. Finally, a white wand was offered, emblem of purity and perpetual dominion.

The Doge rose and spoke:

“The people that walked in darkness have seen a great light.”

He applied the text to Verona’s good fortune in passing under Venetian rule. The orator replied with:

“My soul doth magnify the Lord.”

At its close, the Doge presented him with the golden banner of St Mark, and the crowd cried out:

“Viva Messer S. Marco!”

The banners of Verona were then placed on either side of the high altar at St Mark’s. The same ceremony was later repeated for Padua.

Tomaso Mocenigo and the Call for Peace

When Tomaso Mocenigo, “one of the noblest and wisest of her children,” ascended the throne, Venice stood at a critical crossroads.

Filippo Visconti of Milan—having inherited both the ambition and the ferocity of his father—had secured the services of the formidable condottiero Francesco Bussone da Carmagnola. His expansion threatened Florence, which implored Venice for an alliance.

Within the Senate, Francesco Foscari urged a forward policy, warning that Milan posed an existential threat. Mocenigo responded with a long and learned oration, ranging across sacred and profane history to argue for peace. Commerce, he insisted, was the foundation of Venetian greatness.

“Let them trade with Milan, not fight her.”

He warned that war would invite divine retribution and urged the Senate to defend, not expand, their borders.

On his deathbed, Mocenigo repeated his plea. He implored the senators not to elect Foscari, warning that unjust war would bring ruin upon Venice. But the warning came too late. The Nemesis of empire had already begun its work.

The Election of Foscari

After a close contest, Francesco Foscari was elected Doge. The last faint echo of popular consent vanished. The people were presented with the bare declaration:

“Quest’ è il vostro doge.”

The words “Se vi piacerà” were no longer spoken.

Yet the coronation festivities were more magnificent than ever, lasting an entire year.

Carmagnola: Rise and Fall

Carmagnola, having fallen under Visconti’s suspicion, fled to Venice, where he was welcomed, enriched, and ultimately appointed Captain-General in 1426. He laid siege to Brescia—but his conduct soon aroused unease.

He delayed, withdrew for spa cures at Abano, and prosecuted the war with an exasperating caution. Though he eventually won a great victory at Macolò, capturing 8,000 cavalry, he showed no urgency in pressing the advantage.

Suspicions deepened. Carmagnola was known to correspond with Milan. At last, the Senate resolved to act.

Summoned to Venice under false pretences, Carmagnola walked into a carefully laid trap. As the prison corridor was pointed out to him, he cried:

“I am a dead man.”

He was tortured, tried, and on May 5th, 1432, executed between the red columns of the Piazzetta. After three blows, his head fell.

The secret was perfectly kept. Hundreds knew; none spoke.

Venice at the Height of Power

During the long remainder of Foscari’s reign, Venice poured her wealth into war. The greatest condottieri of Italy—Gattamelata, Sforza, Colleoni—served her at immense cost.

At last, exhausted by thirty years of conflict and shaken by the fall of Constantinople, Venice, Florence, and Milan signed a defensive peace in 1454.

Venice emerged dominant. In fifty years she had annexed eleven provinces, including Verona, Padua, Brescia, Bergamo, and Ravenna. Her rule was firm but comparatively mild. The people of Brescia endured a three-year siege rather than return to Milanese rule.

In one extraordinary feat, the Signory organised the transport of a fleet of thirty vessels across two hundred miles of mountains in mid-winter, lowering them down the slopes of Monte Baldo and launching them onto Lake Garda—a triumph of engineering, resolve, and imperial will.

Venice had reached the summit of her power. The cost, though, was already being written into history.