Nicolo Gabrini de, the deliverer of Rome, was born in that city about 1310. Although placed by fate in a humble station, the young man was by nature a prince. His noble mind could find its nourishment nowhere else than in the records of the ancient Roman glory. He pored over the battle-scenes and great forensic struggles described in Livy. He pondered among the remains of the queenly city of the Caesars. As he meditated, the heroic spirit of antiquity came upon him. His imagination kindled with a desire for fame and power. His tongue grew inspired with the language of patriotism and liberty. It became, in fact, the ambition of his life to be the restorer of Rome to her former grandeur and renown. This aspiration of Rienzi's was confirmed by the daily sight of the deplorable condition of his fellow-countrymen. The Papal See had long since been removed to Avignon, and had left the city in a state of wild misrule. The people, a low, ignorant rabble, followed their own animal impulses. The nobles especially lived lives of armed violence and license. Their attendants were swaggering mercenaries from Germany, or desperate cut-throats from the Campagna. Their mansion-houses were fortified dens for thieves and murderers. From these they issued at intervals to gratify their headlong passions. They fought with each other in the streets, or committed rapine and outrage upon the defenceless citizens.

Rienzi having arrived at his prime, set himself to excite the people to throw off the yoke of their oppressors. His plan was to employ such means as would strike the dull sensibilities of the mob, without awakening the vengeance of the nobles. He therefore disguised all his proceedings under an appearance of eccentricity. As he lingered among the ruins, apparently wrapt in study, he would suddenly exclaim, in tones of intense regret, "Where are the old Romans? where is all their grandeur? why did I not live in those good times?" When the idle populace, startled by his voice, thronged around him with looks of curious wonder, he would tell them in words of eloquent enthusiasm about the deeds of their great ancestors. The stirring effect which these speeches produced among the mass of the people encouraged him to make his measures more direct. He exhibited in the streets and churches allegorical pictures of the state of the city, representing the nobles under the semblance of lions, wolves, and bears. He also assembled a meeting of the entire inhabitants at the church of St John Lateran, at which he showed from the ancient Lex Regia that the Romans had the right of making their own laws and of choosing their own rulers. At length his observant eye saw that it was time to bring the plot speedily to a crisis. About the beginning of May 1347 he met a hundred conspirators by midnight on the top of Mount Aventine, and exacted from them an oath of unqualified support. A few days afterwards he summoned the citizens to assemble on the evening of the 19th of the same month before the church of St Angelo. During all that night of suspense his form was seen taking part in thirty masses for the success of his enterprise. On the following morning he issued from the church with his head bare, with his body cased in armour, surrounded by the hundred accomplices, and preceded by banners which bore emblems of liberty, justice, and concord. As the procession wound along the streets, his kingly person, and pale and earnest countenance, called forth the acclamations of the attendant crowd. On reaching the Capitol, he mounted the rostrum, and, in a speech of irresistible eloquence, announced to his fellow-citizens that he had come forward to be their deliverer. No sooner had he ended than he found that he had achieved the great desire of his life. The Romans with deafening applause declared him their ruler, sanctioned his laws for the establishment of the good estate, and placed their lives and their fortunes entirely in his hands.

Rienzi now began with success to inaugurate his rule. To identify himself with the cause of the people, he took the title of "Tribune." To conciliate the Pope, he assumed into partnership with himself the Bishop of Orvieto, the papal vicar. Thus countenanced by two of the great powers in the state, he addressed himself to the task of making regulations for restoring the healthy condition of the commonwealth. Courts were established for the redress of wrongs. Provision was made for the relief of the poor. A vessel was placed in each port to protect commerce. A standing force was also levied to guard the rights of the government. Nor did measures fail to be taken for the direct extermination of abuses. The nobles were compelled to dismantle their castles, disband their followers, and appear in the character of simple citizens. Every murderer and robber that infested the city was seized by the iron hand of justice. There was no respect of persons. Among others, the notorious freebooter Baron Martin Ursini was dragged from his bridal chamber in the morning, and before night he swung on a gibbet in the sight of the entire city.

The sudden rise and vigorous administration of Rienzi produced an effect almost unexampled in the history of the world. The terror of his name restored peace and prosperity in the commonwealth. There was no desperado or public pest so bold as to remain within several miles of the city. The very barons—the haughty Colonna and Ursini—trembled before the majesty of the low-born tribune. "Ye gods," says an eye-witness, "how they trembled!" His reputation as a righteous and powerful supporter of liberty even extended in a short time throughout and beyond Italy. The people knelt with reverence on the highways when they saw his ambassadors posting along with no other weapon than a white wand. The envious cities of Venice, Florence, Siena, and Perugia placed their lives and fortunes at his disposal. The haughty princes of foreign states sent messengers to seek alliance and friendship with him. At length his renown reached a climax when Lewis of Hungary and Jane of Naples made him their umpire touching the murder of Andrew, the brother of the former, and the husband of the latter.

It is no wonder that Rienzi, after such unparalleled success, became ostentatious and arrogant. What head would not have turned giddy after rising so suddenly and to such a height? The dream of his early ambition, he thought, was about to be realized. The sovereigns of the earth were already appealing to Rome as an arbiter. She was on the eve of becoming, as of old, the acknowledged queen of all cities. It was now time that in the person of her tribune she should formally assume the attributes of empire. If she did not, the ignorant and the envious might be slow to recognize her supremacy. He therefore resolved to show to the world by several unmistakeable deeds that he was the successor of the old Roman potentates. On the 1st of August, on the occasion of his going to the church of St John Lateran to be knighted, he got up a procession, adorned with every sort of pomp and pageantry, in imitation of the great shows of the ancient Caesars. On the evening of the same day, in purifying himself for the ceremony, he bathed in the sacred porphyry vase which the Emperor Constantine had used. Nor did his presumption end there. When the multitude came next morning to the church to see him in his knightly insignia, he appeared, and, with a voice of imperial authority, summoned Pope Clement VI. and the Emperor Charles IV. to appear before his tribunal. Then drawing his sword, he pointed to the three quarters of the world, accompanying his action with the words, "This, and this, and this, is mine." This extravagant ambition of Rienzi's soon caused his downfall. The barons, provoked by his overbearing pride, fled from the city, levied forces, and wasted all the country round. He indeed defeated them; but the citizens became discontented at the bloodshed and scarcity of provisions. Taking advantage of this state of feeling, the Pope sent a legate to call him to account for his usurpation of the rights and territories of the church. His disdainful refusal to acknowledge such an arbiter only brought his difficulties to a crisis. He was immediately branded with the sentence of excommunication. The citizens, with superstitious dread, shrank from his cause. Without opposition they allowed 150 of his enemies to enter the gates and take up a strong position in the quarter of the Colonna. In vain he called upon the people, with all the eloquence of desperation, to take arms in defence of the commonwealth. The listless looks with which they responded to his appeals told him that his power was at an end. He therefore resigned the tribuneship, and left the Capitol after a reign of seven months.

From this sudden and severe fall Rienzi rose up unabated and undaunting. His ambition was as sunshiny and active as ever. He spent 1348 in wandering restlessly through Italy under the guise of a monk, and in seeking for aid to re-instate him in his former power. The next year's concealment among the peaceful hermits of the Apennines did not quiet his troubled desires. He ventured into Rome amid the throngs of the jubilee to look for hope among his former subjects. At length, when he found that his friends could not aid him, he adopted the daring resolution of trying to win the needed help from his most powerful enemies. Accordingly, in 1350 he appeared before the emperor at Prague, and, with the calmest self-confidence, declared himself to be "Nicolò Rienzi, the deliverer of Rome." It is true that his bold measure was apparently foiled; that the emperor sent him to the Pope; and the Pope cast him into prison at Avignon. But he remained hopefully in his cell for three years, quietly reading his Livy, and drawing from the historian many political lessons for his future use, when he should be restored to the government of Rome.

Rienzi's hope was destined to be fulfilled. Ever since