There is much in such contentions. It would be unwise to play down the overwhelming spirit of campanilismo (local patriotism; the spirit of “our campanile is taller than yours”) during the 14th and 15th centuries. Only a minority of people living at that time could ever have heard the word “Italia,” and loyalties were predominantly provincial. It is true that among certain classes, such as merchants who traveled beyond the Alps or scholars who looked back nostalgically to Roman republican or imperial glories, some elements of national consciousness survived. Dante—seeking in his De vulgari eloquentia (written 1304–07; “On the Eloquence of the Vernacular”) to find, amid what he described as “a thousand different dialects,” “the elusive panther” of some basis for a common vernacular literary language—argued that there were some “very simple standards of manners, dress, and speech by which our actions as Italians are weighed and measured.” However vague this claim may appear, one can certainly see in the peninsula some elements that, taken together, made a strong contrast to the world beyond the Alps: a common legal culture, high levels of lay education and urban literacy, a close relationship between town and country, and a nobility who frequently engaged in trade.
Yet ultimately one must conclude that the interest or importance of this period springs above all not from any “national” considerations or reflections upon the Italian peninsula as a unity but rather from three particular features that appeared in at least some parts of it. First there was the maturing, often in the face of severe challenges, of the remarkable economic development that had originated in earlier centuries. Though shaken in the course of the 14th century, northern and central Italian trade, manufacture, and mercantile capitalism, together with increasing urbanization, were to continue with extraordinary vigour and to have remarkable influence throughout much of the Mediterranean world and Europe as a whole—a development that served as the necessary preliminary for the expansion of Europe beyond its ancient bounds at the end of the 15th century. Second, in parallel with this, came the extension of de facto independent city-states, which, whether as republics or as powers ruled by one person or family (signorie, singular signoria; ruled by signori, or lords), created a powerful impression upon contemporaries and posterity. Finally, allied to both these movements was this society that produced the civilization of the Italian Renaissance, the Renaissance that in the 15th and 16th centuries was to spread to the rest of Europe. Italy to c. 1380 The southern kingdoms and the Papal States
Not all regions were to undergo favourable economic or constitutional development or to receive anything but reflected rays from the sun of the Renaissance. In the south the Sicilian Vespers of 1282 separated the island of Sicily for more than 150 years from the rest of the kingdom of Sicily, which until then had consisted of both the island and the southern mainland. On the mainland thenceforth, the successors of King Charles of Anjou ruled as vassals of the papacy. Normally described by contemporaries as “kings of Naples” (though resolutely continuing to call themselves “kings of Sicily”), they pursued a 90-year war against the Aragonese kings of (island) Sicily. They financed that war, which was ultimately unsuccessful, through harsh taxation of the only productive element in the kingdom—namely, its impoverished peasantry. This increase in the royal tax burden, already oppressive at the time of the Norman kings, fixed the region in wretched poverty and destroyed all possibility of native capitalist growth. As a result, during the 14th century almost all trade and banking came into the hands of northern Italians, particularly Florentines. At the same time, outside a few restricted areas (Sulmona, coastal Puglia, Campania) that produced considerable surpluses of grain, an arid climate and inferior soil made for poor agricultural development in the Kingdom of Naples.
Against this background, political unrest flourished. Under King Robert (reigned 1309–43; known to his literary flatterers as “Robert the Wise”), who made no less than five attempts to conquer the island of Sicily, the monarchy was able to resist the more extravagant demands of the nobility for rewards for their military and political support. But, with the accession of Robert’s granddaughter Joan I (1343–82), royal authority withered away, court factions dominated, and civil war (1347–52) ensued. Quelled for a time, baronial strife revived at the end of Joan’s reign in a conflict between two branches of the Angevin family (those of Durazzo versus those of Provence) that claimed recognition as heirs of the queen. The eventual victor, King Ladislas (1386–1414), benefiting from the turbulence provoked by the Great Schism (see below), was able to boast of considerable military success in central Italy and even gained—according to some observers—a brief predominance in the peninsula. But the accession of his sister, Joan II (1414–35), inexperienced and childless (that is to say, without obvious heirs), brought a renewal of anarchy to the Neapolitan kingdom, in which true power rested not with the monarchy but with a few powerful owners of vast estates (latifundia) who were allied to the monarchy through blood or service. Below these barons existed a large number of petty nobles with minuscule fiefs; still lower was the mass of peasants, who eked a bare subsistence from the soil.
Meanwhile, the island kingdom of Sicily—or Trinacria, as it was often called—was ruled from 1296 to 1409 by a cadet branch of the royal house of Aragon. This house, in rebellion against papal claims of suzerainty and engaged in constant war with the Kingdom of Naples, went through a pattern of monarchical weakness and economic decline similar to that shown by the Angevins of Naples. In Hohenstaufen and early Aragonese Sicily, extensive royal landholdings had given the monarchy effective power throughout the kingdom. With the death of King Frederick III (1337), however, substantial concessions of royal lands to a grasping baronial class increasingly divided the island. Of particular importance in this group were the three great families of the Ventimiglia, the Chiaramonte, and the Passaneto—men so powerful that contemporaries described them as “semi-kings,” having below them some 200 lesser, poor, and violent vassals. In these years, with an economy dominated largely by Catalan merchants, Sicily looked to Aragon (which in 1326 had also gained control of the island of Sardinia) and its great port of Barcelona rather than to the peninsula to the north.
If the southern kingdoms limped through the 14th century in internal strife and economic backwardness, so too did the Papal States lying to the north of the Kingdom of Naples. In March 1303 Pope Boniface VIII, in conflict with King Philip IV of France over papal jurisdiction, had been seized at the papal residence of Anagni by a small band of French and Roman adventurers. Though released almost immediately, he died a month later of, it was said, deep humiliation. The Papal States had been founded to preserve the independence and spiritual authority of the papacy, yet here, clearly, it seemed to have failed. Partly because of the menacing Roman baronage and partly again through the pressure of the French king, Pope Clement V decided to abandon the peninsula and seek refuge at Avignon. Here between 1307 and 1377 the papacy was to reside in greater safety. Italy was now “bereft”—as Dante, who witnessed these developments, testified—“of its two suns,” both the papacy and the empire.