When we think of Dante Alighieri (1265–1321), the image that usually comes to mind is that of a man in his forties, with a pointed nose, wearing a traditional red robe and a laurel wreath, symbols of his role as a poet and writer. We instantly associate the Florentine with world-renowned works like the Divine Comedy and La Vita Nuova, referring to him as the “Supreme Poet” or the “Father of the Italian Language.” Dante’s legacy as both a poet and a political figure is the reason he is considered, both in his time and today, one of the greatest icons of Italian culture, literature, and politics.

These are the stories of Dante the man, Dante the adult. But what if I told you that in his youth, Dante was also a soldier? A man clad in shining armor, as skilled with a sword and pike as he was with pen and parchment in his red toga? That’s right. Born into the affluent and noble Alighieri family of Florence’s elite, Dante received not only a rich cultural education but also found himself from a young age thrown into the political turmoil of Florence. Due to the ongoing conflict between the Guelphs and the Ghibellines, Dante took part in several military campaigns, fighting as a front-line soldier.

At the age of 24, he fought in the Battle of Campaldino (June 11, 1289), and again in August, during the Capture of Caprona against Pisa, armed with a helmet, chainmail, and riding a horse alongside 1,600 other Florentine Guelphs. The Guelph victory over the Ghibellines of Arezzo established Florence's dominance as the leading Guelph city-state. In 1294, Dante also served as a knight in the delegation that escorted Charles Martel of Anjou (son of Charles II, King of Naples) during his visit to Florence.

As Dante later recounted in the Divine Comedy (Inferno, Canto XXII and Purgatorio, Canto V), and in several letters, it was a brutal battle, so intense that he was frightened by the enemy’s initial charge. Young Alighieri was part of the second line of knights, initially forced to retreat before charging back into the fray amid a whirlwind of dust, blades, blood, and arrows. There, Dante was deeply marked by the sight of dying men, some of whom he had killed himself.