Still toiling away at my big history book. I don’t mean to disparage it – I’m reading it with some fascination, though it does seem like it’s progressing in real time. But that throws me back on my wits (which seem to be a non-renewable resource) when it comes to blogging fodder.
Well, I nudged myself yesterday. I mentioned the name Rienzi (it’s Italian, so I assume it’s pronounced Ree-EN-zee). Once a familiar name throughout the western world, it’s all but forgotten today.
I first noticed the name when reading about the Civil War. There was a famous episode from the 1864 Shenandoah campaign, where Union Gen. Philip Sheridan rode 20 miles in about two hours, from Winchester, Virginia to his headquarters, to rally his forces to meet a Confederate attack. His timely appearance prevented a disaster, and “Sheridan’s Ride” was widely reported, and celebrated in a popular poem by Thomas Buchanan Read.
When I read accounts of Sheridan’s ride, his horse’s name was given as “Rienzi.” (The horse’s name was later changed to Winchester, and after a long life in horse years, he died and was stuffed. The Smithsonian has him now.)
“Who,” I wondered, “was Rienzi?” (I believe the name showed up somewhere else too, but I forget where. There’s a town called Rienzi in Mississippi. Maybe that was it.)
This was in ancient times, before the internet. I could have consulted an encyclopedia, but I wasn’t that interested. But eventually Joe Biden provided an information superhighway, and I checked it out in an idle moment.
Nicola “Cola” Rienzi (1313-1354) was an Italian politician. He claimed to be the illegitimate son of the Holy Roman Emperor, but actually came from humble origins in Rome. He acquired a good education, though, and grew enamored of the glories of ancient Rome. He despised the Rome of his own day, ruled by the Holy Roman Emperor and dominated by dissolute nobles. (Credit where credit’s due: I’m condensing all this information from Wikipedia. This material isn’t in my own wheelhouse at all.)
He became a notary, and acquired local status. When he started denouncing the nobles, the pope himself gave him his support. On May 20, 1347, he held a great rally and addressed the people dressed in armor. The population rose up, and the nobility quietly fled the city. Rienzi had led a bloodless coup, and was now in charge. He proclaimed himself Tribune, in the style of the ancient Roman republic.
The following July he began calling for the unification of Italy. He proclaimed a festival of unity, and declared his country free of the Holy Roman Emperor. He then imprisoned some barons, but let them go afterward.
As a ruler, Cola Rienzi was incompetent. He lived in splendor and taxed the people accordingly. His support plummeted. He also offended the pope, who did not care for his project of a new Roman Empire. Later that year he defeated the nobles in battle, but it only delayed the inevitable. In December, Rienzi fled Rome.
He wandered for a while. In 1350 he showed up in Prague, (ironically) begging Emperor Charles IV for refuge, now denouncing the pope for exercising temporal power. After a year, Charles turned him over to that same pope.
Oddly enough, when Rienzi was taken back to Rome, he was not executed, but restored to power and given the title of senator, to public acclaim. But he didn’t last long. He unsuccessfully besieged the palace of Palestrina, and lost popularity due to his cruelty to his enemies. On October 8, 1354, he tried to address a mob that had gathered, but the mob set the building where he was standing on fire. Thus he died in a way any Viking saga writer would approve, cut down as he tried to escape the flames.
Not a heroic story, all considered. However, in the 19th Century, as nationalistic movements became popular, Rienzi was rediscovered. In his own time, the poet Petrarch had written an ode in his honor. Now Lord Byron mentioned him in “Childe Harold’s Pilgrimage,” and Edward Bulwer-Lytton (best remembered now for coining the phrase, “It was a dark and stormy night”) wrote a popular (and flattering) novel about him.
And that inspired a young German composer named Richard Wagner to devote his first opera, “Rienzi” (1842) to his story.
Which explains why Rienzi was famous in America during the Civil War.
Of course, things have changed since then. Nationalism was a liberal movement in those days, a romantic revolt against the old empires. But Wagner’s entry introduces a somber note – we scent here the stirrings of nationalistic Fascism.
All in all, it’s all right that Rienzi has been forgotten, I guess. Much better men than he are not remembered at all.