SOURCE: "Sordello, the Troubadour," in Sordello: A History and a Poem, Robert Brothers, 1886, pp. 5-11.

[The following is an excerpt from an article by Dall first published in a periodical in 1872. She summarizes the disparate chronicles of Sordello's life and speculates that perhaps two interpretations of the troubadour's character existed: one as a singer only and the other as a warrior and thinker. Dall also assesses the poet's writings, finding that "the best of Sordello's verses show a dignity of composition and purity of taste which put him in the very front rank of the Provençals. "]

"Who wills has heard Sordello's story told," yet not without some hard work; some diving into old and musty chronicles, the best American collection of which perished when the library of the Canadian Parliament was burned.

It was the audacity of genius only that dared found a poem on a history so obscure that no two writers can be found who call its hero by the same family name. Had Sordello, on the contrary, been an historic personage, stark and startling as Wellington himself, the din of political turmoil, the smoke of war, intrigue, conflicting houses and interests into which he was born, might have sued for explanation at the poet's hand. It would even have helped a little had Browning only said, "Salinguerra and Taurello are the same man."

In Aliprando's fabulous "History of Milan" we find long stories of Sordello, borrowed, doubtless, from still older sources, and stealing out of his verses into the solemn Latin prose of Platina's "History of Mantua." There we are told that Sordello was born into the Visconti family, at Goïto, in Mantua, in 1189. A mere boy, he startled the world of letters by a poem called "Trésor." That of arms did not open to him till he was twenty-five, when he distinguished himself, not only by bravery and address, but by a dignity and grace of manner the first glimpse of his slight figure hardly promised.

He was conqueror in scores of tilts, and vanquished foreigners went back to France to proclaim his chivalry to that court.

Then Louis wanted him, and Sordello was hastening across the Alps, when Ecelin da Romano called him to Verona. Here his young life was made wretched by Beatrice, sister of Ecelin. Prayers, tears, and swoons, however, did not prevent him from seeking in Mantua a refuge from an intrigue unworthy of his honor. She followed him to Mantua, disguised as a page, and in the end became his wife. A few days after the wedding, to which it can hardly be said that he consented, the Troubadour very naturally remembered that King Louis needed him. Partly at court, and partly in the ancient French city of Troyes, his valor, his gallantry, and his sweet verses won all hearts. Louis made him a chevalier, and gave him three thousand francs and a golden falcon. On his return, the Italian cities met him, one after the other, with stately congratulation, the Mantuans coming in a crowd to greet him. In 1229 he joined his wife at Padua, and that city celebrated his return by a whole week of festivity. From 1250 to 1253 the brother of Beatrice, Ecelin da Romano, besieged Mantua. At last the unwilling husband led the people out, and in the fray that followed Ecelin perished.

But this graceful story could not have been true. At the time when it asserts that Sordello went into France there was no Louis—only a Philip Augustus—on the throne. The siege of Mantua did not begin till 1256, and Ecelin died in 1259. His sister's real name was Cuniza. Perhaps Sordello told some such story of himself in one of the dancing rhymes he sung by the camp-fire. Very soon did such songs turn into history.

Rolandino, a Latin historian, born at Padua, in the year 1200, and therefore a contemporary, mentions the matter differently.

"Cuniza, wife of Richard of St. Boniface, and sister of Ecelin da Romano, was stolen from her husband," he says, "by one Sordello, who was of the same family." The ambiguity of this last phrase perplexed Tiraboschi, but would hardly deserve our attention if it had not furnished a hint for the modern poem. In Browning's hands, Sordello is no guilty troubadour, but the unwitting victim of political schemers, held as a hostage by his ambitious enemy, and that enemy a woman. Palma takes the place of Cuniza, but with no dishonor to her family. Rolandino adds that the pair took refuge with the father of Cuniza, who finally drove them forth in disgrace.

Dante, however, had something to say of Sordello which Browning has remembered.

At the entrance of Purgatory, in a spot where the impenitent mingle with those who have died a violent death, Virgil meets Sordello. "O Mantuan!" he cries; "I am Sordello, born in thy land." Dante here attributes to him "the lion's glance and port," and in his treatise "De Volgari Eloquentia" says that Sordello excelled in all kinds of composition, and that he helped to form the Tuscan tongue by some happy attempts which he made in the dialects of Cremona, Brescia, and Verona, cities not far removed from Mantua. He also speaks of a "Goïto Mantuan," who was the author of many good songs, and who left in every stanza an unmatched line which he called the key: and this singer Tiraboschi thinks is our Troubadour.

Benvenuto d'Imola, a commentator on Dante, of the fourteenth century, says, in a note to the sixth canto of the "Purgatory,"—"Sordello was a native of Mantua, an illustrious and skilful warrior, and an accomplished courtier. This chevalier lived in the time of Ecelin da Romano, whose sister conceived for him so violent a passion that she often had him brought to her apartments by a private way. Informed of this intrigue, Ecelin disguised himself as a servant, and surprised the unfortunate poet, who promised on his knees not to repeat the offence. But," continues Benvenuto in forcible Latin, "the cursed Cuniza dragged him anew into perdition. He was naturally grave, virtuous, and prudent. To withdraw himself from Ecelin he fled, but was pursued and assassinated."

Benvenuto attributes to Sordello a Latin work, "Thesaurus Thesaurorum;" and if such a work ever existed we understand the sympathy with which the Troubadour embraced the knees of Virgil,—"O Glory of the Latins!" etc. Dante, at all events, thought of him as a patriot, and his outburst over the meeting colors the modern poem. That his poems were more philosophical than amatory was a still further appeal to the sympathy of the Florentine.

While Benvenuto was indignantly cursing Cuniza, some sketches of the Troubadour were written in Provençal, which say: "Born in the Mantuan territory, of a poor knight named Elcorte, Sordello early began to write the songs and short satires called in the language of that day Sirventes. He was attached to the Count of St. Boniface, and the lover of his wife, and eloped with her under the protection of her brothers." At war with the count, these brothers seem to have been rather more anxious to do him an ill turn than to protect their family honor. "Then Sordello went into Provence, where they gave him a château, and he became honorably connected in marriage,"—Cuniza vanishing, we suppose, clean out of life, for she is named no more.

The lives of the Provençals, published by Nostradamus, in the sixteenth century, do not agree with the foregoing. They say Sordello was a Mantuan, who at the age of fifteen entered the service of Berenger, Count of Provence, and that his poetry was preferred to that of Folquet of Marseilles, Percival Doria, and all other Genoese and Tuscan troubadours. Beside writing philosophic songs, he wrote in Provençal an essay entitled "The Progress and Power of the Kings of Arragon in the Comté of Provence." Among his poems was one especially distinguished,—a satire,—in which, while lamenting the death of Blacas, he burst into a philippic against all Christian princes. He died soon after this, in 1281.

Giambattista d'Arco attributes to Sordello several historical translations out of the Latin into the "vulgar tongue," and an original treatise on "The Defence of Walled Towns."

The memoirs of the early Italian poets by Alessandro Tilioli are still unpublished, but the manuscript only repeats the fable of Platina.

Tiraboschi, who had access to a very large number of manuscripts, rejects most of these splendid stories. According to him, Sordello was a Mantuan, born at Goïto, at the very close of the twelfth century. He went into Provence, but not when a boy. He eloped with the wife of his friend, Count Boniface. He was of noble family, and a warrior; but never a captain-general nor a governor of Mantua. He died a violent death, about the middle of the thirteenth century; but in 1281 he would have been a hundred years old!

And this ends the story. As we work our way through the old chronicles, it would seem at times as if there must have been two men,—one a warrior and a thinker, the other a singer only,—whose lives have become inextricably blended, and whose characteristics have bewildered the chroniclers by turns. But the shadowy old Podestá of Mantua, whom Dante is supposed to have remembered with Ghibelline sympathy, eludes observation even more successfully than the troubadour. If he ever lived, he must consent in this day to transfer his "lion port," his "Latin tongue," and "The Defence of Walled Towns" he put before the Mantuan council, to the graceless head of the idle singer.

The conflicting tales are only worth recalling because each fragment of them has had more or less to do with Browning's poem.

None of the prose translations, nor any poems, written by Sordello in the Tuscan tongue survive. His verses in the Provençal are all that remain to vindicate his genius. Thirty-four pieces, for the most part gallant songs, challenge the statement of Nostradamus,—that he was devoted to philosophy. Two have been translated by Millot. The refrain of the first is,—

"Alas! of what use to have eyes
If they gaze not on her I desire?"

It is written in very pure taste. The second is a more ordinary affair. Three of the pieces are of the sort called "Tensons,"—that is, dialogues. One discusses the duty of a bereaved lover. The second compares the pursuit of knightly feats with the delights of love, and weighs the satisfactions of each. The third discusses "the bad faith of princes,"—a subject which he renews in an epistle addressed to St. Boniface. We should have but a poor opinion of his mettle were this epistle the only testimony to it; for he begs to be excused from joining the crusaders! He "is in no haste," he says, "to enter on eternal life." His other poems are Sirventes.

Many of them attack the troubadour Vidal. In these, threats mingled with insults, which become gross as soon as they are translated. Some, which relate to the moral and political aspects of his own time, merit our attention, and doubtless have furnished Browning with more than one pungent line. In one, the poet scoffs at those who, under pretext of extirpating heretical Albigenses, have banded together to despoil Raymond, Count of Toulouse. The Satire in which he entreats this prince not to submit to insult or rapine must have been written in 1228; because it speaks of the absolution just received by Raymond VII.

His best poem is his lament for Blacas, a Spanish troubadour of remarkable personal courage. It is a satire, and sovereign princes are urged to share between them the heart of the hero.

"Let the emperor eat first of it," says the song, "that he may recover what the Milanese have taken! Let the noble King of France eat of it, that he may regain Castile! but it must be when his mother is not looking!" etc.

This King of France was probably Louis IX., and the verses must have been written in the ten years preceding 1236.

The best of Sordello's verses show a dignity of composition and purity of taste which put him in the very front rank of the Provençals. His great hold on posterity consists in the fact that he preceded Dante in the classic use of the vulgar tongue.