ABSTRACT
Vespasiano da Bisticci in his Vite tells that in 1443 Giannozzo Manetti, after a diplomatic mission to Alfonso the Magnanimous, king of Naples, was travelling to meet Count Francesco Sforza. On his way, he was captured and robbed of his horses and carriages by the soldiers of Niccolò Piccinino, captain-general of the hostile Milanese army. Once Manetti had arrived safely in Sforza’s camp, his colleague Agnolo Acciaiuoli offered to intercede in his favour by sending a man to Roberto di Montalboddo, one of the most inuential captains in Piccinino’s company and a personal friend of his. The attempt was unsuccessful. Manetti therefore called his chancellor and dictated a ‘most worthy’ (‘degnissima’) letter to Niccolò Piccinino. A servant was sent to Piccinino’s camp in order to deliver it to Piccinino’s own hands and to wait for the answer. On his arrival, Piccinino dismounted and, ‘having taken the letter in his hand, he gave it to one of his chancellors for reading’, listening with the utmost attention. The morning after, the captain restored all the humanist’s stolen goods. Later on, Manetti commented with a smile to the amazed Acciaiuoli: ‘you understand now how much more force letters have compared to friendship’.1 This anecdote focuses on the power and enchantment of rhetoric in its written form: a well-composed letter was more effective than a whole network of political friends. At the same time, the episode also reveals the intertwining of writing and orality: Manetti dictated his letter to his chancellor, and Piccinino in turn ordered his chancellor to read it aloud to him.
