Читать книгу The Tragedies of the Medici - Staley Edgcumbe - Страница 8
CHAPTER I—The Pazzi Conspiracy—Lorenzo, “Il Magnifico”—Giuliano, “Il Pensieroso”.
Оглавление“Signori!” “Signori!”
Such was the stirring cry which resounded through the lofty Council Chamber of the famous Palazzo Vecchio that dull December day in the year 1469.
Never had such a title been accorded to any one in Florence, where every man was as good as, if not better than, his neighbour. Foreign sovereigns, and their lieutenants, who, from time to time, visited the city and claimed toll and fealty from the citizens, had never been addressed as “Signori”—“Lords and Masters.” The “Spirito del Campanile” as it was called, was nowhere more rampant than in the “City of the Lion and Lily,” where everybody at all times seemed only too ready to disparage his fellow.
The cry was as astounding as it was unanimous—“Signori!” “Signori!” “Evviva i due Signori de’ Medici!” “Signori!” “Signori!” “Evviva i due figli della Domina Lucrezia.” Thus it gathered strength—its importance was emphatic—it was epoch-marking.
“Signori!” “Signori!” was the acknowledgment of the sovereignty of the Medici, made quite freely and spontaneously by the dignified Lords of the Signory, in the name of the whole population of Florence and Tuscany.
Piero de’ Medici died on 3rd December 1469, and his interment, which was conducted with marked simplicity, in accordance with his will, was completed that same evening. He had, during his short exercise of power as Capo della Repubblica, given a pageant—“The Triumph of Death,” he called it, by way of being his own funeral obsequies—a grim anticipation of the future indeed!
At midnight a secret meeting of citizens was convened, by the officials of the Signoria, within the Monastery of Sant’ Antonio by the old Porta Faenza, to debate the question of filling the vacant Headship of the State. Why such a remote locality was chosen is not stated, but it was in conformity with Florentine usage, which, for general and personal security, required secrecy in such gatherings.
More than six hundred—“the flower of the city” as Macchiavelli called them—attended, and upon the proposition of Ridolfo de’ Pandolfini, Messer Tommaso Soderini, by reason of seniority of years and priority of importance, was called upon to preside. “Being one of the first citizens and much superior to the others, his prudence and authority were recognised not only in Florence, but by all the rulers of Italy.”
The Soderini had, for three hundred years, held a leading position in the affairs of Florence; but they were rivals and enemies of the Medici. Indeed Messer Tommaso’s uncle—Ser Francesco—was one of the principal opponents in the city counsels of Cosimo—“il Padre della Patria.” Messer Niccolo, his brother, carried on the feud, and was, with Diotisalvi Neroni, Agnolo Acciaiuolo, and others, banished in 1455, for their complicity in the abortive attempt to assassinate Piero de’ Medici.
Messer Tommaso, more prescient and prudent, threw in his lot with the Medici, and was chosen by Piero, not only as his own chief counsellor and intimate friend, but as the principal adviser of his two young sons—Lorenzo and Giuliano. He had, moreover, allied himself to the Medici by his marriage with Dianora de’ Tornabuoni, sister of Domina Lucrezia, Piero’s wife.
All the same, he kept his own counsel and took up a perfectly independent line of action, being quite remarkable for his display of that most pronounced characteristic of all good Florentines—the placing of Florence first—“Firenze la prima!”
At the meeting, at Sant’ Antonio, his rising to speak was the signal for general applause. In a few generous words he eulogised the gentle virtues of Piero and bemoaned his premature death. In a longer and more serious oration, on the conditions politically and socially of Florence and of the whole State, he put before his hearers two uncontrovertible considerations, to guide them in the exercise of the selection of a new Capo della Repubblica—first. The maintenance of unity and tranquillity; and second. The preservation of the status quo.
Many and friendly were the interruptions of the oration, and over and over again shouts were raised for “Tommaso Soderini il Capo!” Gracefully he bowed his acknowledgment, but, with much feeling, declined the rare honour offered him. Then he went on to say that as the supreme office had been worthily served by Cosimo and Piero de’ Medici, it was but fitting that it should be continued in that illustrious family.
He expatiated upon the advantages which had accrued to Florence under the Headship of the Medici; and he urged upon the assembly to offer their allegiance to Piero’s sons, and to give them the authority that their father and grandfather had possessed.
Keen debate followed Messer Tommaso’s speech: some wished that he would reconsider his decision, others were in favour of trying a new man and of another family—Niccolo Soderini’s name was freely mentioned, but gradually the meeting came to accept the proposal. It gained at all events the adhesion of such pronounced ante-Mediceans as Gianozzo de’ Pitti and Domenico de’ Martelli, and led to a fusion, there and then, of the two parties, “del Poggio” and “del Piano.” Unanimity was the more readily reached when those who demurred perceived that Messer Tommaso would be the virtual ruler of the State in the personal direction of his two young nephews. A deputation was accordingly chosen to convey to Domina Lucrezia and her sons the condolences of the city, and to offer to Lorenzo the coveted Headship of the State.
At noon on the following day the deputation was honourably received at the Medici Palace. “The principal men of the State and of the City,” wrote Lorenzo in his Ricordi, “came to our house to condole with us in our bereavement, and to offer me the direction of the Government in succession to my grandfather and father. I hesitated to accept the high honour on account of my youth and because of the danger and responsibility I should incur; and I only consented in order to safeguard our friends and our property.”
A plenary Parliament was summoned by Tommaso Soderini and those associated with him in the conduct of public affairs during the interregnum. It was held in the great Council Chamber of the Palazzo Vecchio, and was attended by a full concourse of senators and other prominent citizens, deputations from the Guilds, and representatives of the Minor Orders. In the Piazza della Signoria and the adjoining streets, was assembled an immense crowd of people, the greater part being supporters of the Medici.
Inside the Chamber again Messer Tommaso Soderini was unanimously elected president, and forthwith proceeded to report the result of the deputation. His speech was repeatedly interrupted by cries that he should reconsider his decision and accept then and there the Headship of the State. He again emphatically declined the honour his fellow-citizens desired to confer upon him, and proclaimed Lorenzo de’ Medici Capo della Repubblica Fiorentina.
At a preconcerted signal the arras over the doorway leading to the private audience chamber was lifted, and there advanced Piero’s widow with her two sons, clothed in the dark habiliments of mourning. Domina Lucrezia threw back her thick black veil, revealing upon her kindly face a sorrowful expression and her eyes suffused with tears. Making a lowly curtsey she drew herself up—a queenly figure—and holding the hands of Lorenzo and Giuliano, on either side, made her way to where Messer Tommaso Soderini was standing.
All eyes were bent upon the pathetic little group, and a sympathetic murmur moved the whole audience. Every man of them had for years regarded the Domina as the model of what a woman and a wife, a mother and a queen, should be. She had no rivals and no detractors. Hers had been the wise power behind the throne, for her tactful counsels had guided the actions of her husband unerringly.
Florence was greatly beholden to Domina Lucrezia—a debt which nothing could repay. Her influence for good upon the Court, her munificence in charity, and her unsparing unselfishness had not been without powerful effect upon every one of those hard-headed, hard-hearted citizens. They called to mind that well-known saying of the “Father of his Country”—“the great merchant”—Cosimo: “Why, Lucrezia is the best man among us!”
They reflected, too, upon the auspicious example set at the Palazzo Medici, where the mother’s part was conspicuous in the wise training of her family and in the loving deference she received from her sons. And as they gazed upon Lorenzo and Giuliano de’ Medici—“the hope of Florence”—they recognised in the former a statesman, already a ruler in the making. Young though he was, he had widely gained a reputation for shrewdness and energy, for Piero had taken his eldest son early into his confidence, and had entrusted to him much important State business. He had sent him with embassies to Rome, Venice, and Naples; he had despatched him upon a round of ceremonious visits to foreign courts; and had encouraged him to make himself acquainted with all Tuscany and the Tuscans.
Lorenzo’s accomplishments in the school of letters were known to all. He was a scholar and a gentleman, and these points had great weight in Florentine opinion. In figure and physiognomy he very greatly resembled his grandfather. His dignified bearing greatly impressed the assembly, whilst his unaffected modesty, pleasant courtesy, and graceful oratory, gratified them all.
In Giuliano they had a typical young courtier, handsome, athletic, accomplished, and enthusiastic. His physical charms appealed to every one, for most Florentines were Greeks of the Greeks. A precocious boy of sixteen years of age, he had the promise of a brilliant young manhood and a splendid maturity.
The personal equation is always a prominent factor in human ambitions, and nowhere was it more emphatically dominant than in the mutual jealousies of the men of Florence. The “x+y” sign of absolute assurance had its match and equal in the “x-y” sign of restrictive deference. If one Messer arrived at some degree of prominence, then the best way for him to attain his end was to pit himself against another of his class nearest to him in influence. If he was not to gain the guerdon, then his rival should not have it!
This was the spirit which permeated the raison d’etre of each noble lord in that great assembly. After the first wave of enthusiasm had passed, each man began to reflect that the best way, after all, for settling the contentious question of the Headship of the Republic, was to rule every one of the “magnificent six hundred” out of the running; and by taking the line of least resistance plump for the unassuming youths before them—Medici although they were.
“Signori!” “Signori!” again ran through the lofty chamber, “I Signori di Firenze!” Some cried out “Lorenzo,” and some “Giuliano,” and others “I tutte due”—but shouts for Lorenzo waxed the loudest. Thus by general acclamation was the new Capo della Repubblica elected.
Abashed by the vociferations of their elders and yet encouraged by the unanimity of the assembly, the two young men stood gravely bowing their acknowledgments, the heightened colour of their faces and the nervous tension of their frames indicating the fervency of their emotions. In a few well-chosen sentences Lorenzo expressed his pleasure and Giuliano’s, and the gratitude of their mother at this signal mark of confidence; and promised to uphold the traditions of the City and the State, as his forbears had done, craving from the noble lords their united sympathy and support.
Gently leading the now smiling Domina Lucrezia by the hand, the two brothers returned to the private Hall of Audience, while the great bell of the Palazzo boomed forth the news to the waiting crowd outside. The wool-workers had ceased their toil, the artists had left their botteghe, the markets were deserted, and all Florence forgathered in the Piazza to welcome “I Signori di Firenze!”
Loud plaudits greeted the noble matron and her sons—not the battle-cry “Palle! Palle!” indeed—but “Evviva i Medici!” “Lorenzo!” “Giuliano!” “La buona Domina Magnifica!” … Their progress was a triumph, they could scarcely make their way, short as it was, to the Via Larga, for everybody pressed forward to kiss and stroke their hands. Never had there been anything like so popular an election in Florence; men and women shed tears as they uttered rapturously their names; for were not “Lorenzo” and “Giuliano” the “pets of the people,” and was not the Domina Lucrezia beloved by everyone!
The plenary Parliament, having completed its labours, broke up immediately, and the excellent lords and worthy citizens hied them to their palaces, their banks, and their offices, more or less pleased with the morning’s work. Not a few reflected, rather grimly, that they had placed two young lives between themselves and the seat of supreme authority. Their sons might live to rule Florence, but their own chances had vanished for ever!
Lorenzo was not backward in gripping, with a firm hand, the reins of power. Young as he was, he had already formed his ideals and laid out his plans as to the best government of the State. The yearly symposia in the Casentino had been productive of much good in the training of the youthful ruler. The direction of his opinions was signified in that saying of his: “He who would live in Florence must know how to govern!”
The repetition of this phrase was perhaps indiscreet, and it caused searchings of heart, as the meaning of it was borne in upon the comprehensions of the least friendly of the citizens. Lorenzo was clearly set upon the aggrandisement of his house and the dependence of all others. Allowance was made for a lad’s impetuosity, but at the same time many a leader kept his hands tightly pressed upon the machinery of government.
Everyone perceived that the young Capo della Repubblica was in full possession of the solid grit of his pushful grandfather. He had not studied the careers of his famous ancestors, Salvestro, Giovanni, and Cosimo, for nothing. Indeed Piero, his father, in writing to his sons at Cafaggiuolo to acquaint them with the death of Cosimo, “Il Padre della Patria,” in 1463, had pointedly said: “Your mother and I offer the character and example of your grandfather to our sons.”
Besides these strong characteristics he had inherited, in a superlative degree, the shrewd common-sense of Piero, and his mother’s passionate love of Florence, with all her enthusiasm for what was pure, cultured, philanthropic, and religious. Niccolo Macchiavelli, somewhat unwillingly, admitted that—“Lorenzo has all the high-mindedness and liberality which anybody could expect in one occupying such an exalted station.”
Giuliano tacitly and contentedly accepted a less ambitious and responsible role. Whilst Lorenzo took the first place and occupied himself in questions of State policy and in the affairs of the family, Giuliano drew to himself all the younger men in physical exploit and mental effort. From boyhood addicted to sports and pastimes, he became facile princeps in all manly exercises.
“Il bel Giulio!” as he was called generally, was moreover the leader of fashion and the organiser of all the pageants and jousts with which Lorenzo and he delighted the citizens. Whilst devoting most of his time to fun and frolic, the young prince was acknowledged as one of the chief litterati, and a conspicuous ornament of the Platonic Academy.
The serious side to his character and his, studious disposition gained for him the gentle title of “Il Pensieroso.” His mother’s fond hope was that he should be named a Cardinal, not merely a Papal princeling, nor of course a religious reprobate—as, alas, most of the Cardinals were—but a devout wearer of the scarlet hat, and that one day he might even assume the triple tiara!
Anyhow Giuliano’s youth was as spotless as it might be amid unchaste surroundings. His passion for the bewitching Simonetta, “The Star of Genoa,” seems to have been the only serious romance of his life, and therein he never aroused Marco de’ Vespucci’s jealousy by his attentions to his young wife. Indeed the loves of “Il bel Giulio” and “La bella Simonetta” were the talk and the admiration of the whole city:—the Apollo or the Mercury of the New Athens with his Venus—Venus de’ Medici!
The magnificent Giostra, or Tournament, which Lorenzo celebrated a year before his accession to the Headship of the Republic was but the prelude to the exhibition of lavish hospitality such as Florentines, and the strangers within their gates, had never witnessed. Banquets, ballets and pageants succeeded one another in rapid succession. Church and national festivals gained splendour and circumstance unrivalled in any other city. Indeed the citizens, from the highest to the meanest, lived in a whirl of festivities—and they liked it well!
The visits of friendly princes and other distinguished personages were hailed with enthusiasm. Apparently there was no bottom to the Medici purse; but actually the Capo della Repubblica was playing rather fast and loose with his opulent patrimony. There came a day when the strain grew excessive, and Lorenzo was unable, had he been willing, to make advances to princely suitors, and he lived to repent his prodigality.
The first notable visitors were Duke Galeazzo Maria Sforza of Milan and his Duchess Bona, Princess of Savoy. The retinue which accompanied the sovereigns was gorgeous, and filled the people of Florence with amazement; but their wonder was tenfold greater when Lorenzo displayed still greater magnificence in their reception. Macchiavelli has attributed the vast increase in the luxurious habits of the citizens to this splendid hospitality.
Another remarkable demonstration was that which was made in 1471 upon the occasion of the succession of Cardinal Francesco delle Rovere to the Papal throne as Sixtus IV. Lorenzo, in person, headed the special embassy which was despatched from Florence to congratulate the new pontiff. The other principal members were Domenico de’ Martelli, Agnolo della Stufa, Bongianio de’ Gianfigliazzi, and Donato de’ Acciaiuolo. Whilst the mission and its wealth of offerings were received graciously by the Roman Court, Sixtus by no means extended a cordial welcome to Lorenzo. The request which he made for the bestowal of a Cardinal’s hat upon his brother, Giuliano, was refused somewhat brusquely, although, to be sure, the Pope did agree to the transfer of the custody of the finances of the Curia to the Medici bank, through the intervention of Messer Giovanni de’ Tornabuoni—Lorenzo’s uncle, a resident in Rome.
Lorenzo appears to have made, however, rather a favourable impression upon Sixtus, for he entered into negotiations concerning the sale of the costly jewels which had been collected by Pope Paul II. In the end Lorenzo purchased the cabinet and its contents, and made thereby a very excellent bargain.
During his sojourn in the Eternal City, Lorenzo acquired a number of precious antiques, rare manuscripts, and valuable works of art. Sixtus, noting his artistic tastes, sent him many handsome gifts, and promised, at his solicitation, to prevent the destruction of ancient buildings and monuments. They parted apparently excellent friends.
Giuliano’s Giostra was even more brilliant than that of Lorenzo, six years before. It was celebrated in honour of “La bella Simonetta,” with whom the impressionable young prince became daily more and more madly in love. Whether his infatuation went at all beyond the bounds of Platonic affection is doubtful. His lovely innamorata was the wife of his best friend, and his honour went for much in the loyal estimation of Giuliano. Besides this, his good mother’s influence in the cause of virtue and modesty was all-powerful with both her sons.
Strange to say, this romantic attachment stirred the jealousy of a very prominent citizen, no less a personage than Messer Francesco de’ Pazzi. He and his brothers declined the invitation to the Giostra, and abstained from participation in the general festivities. It was a case of race rivalry and of personal jealousy, but it meant much in the relations of the two families.
The efforts which Lorenzo continually made “to gain a firm footing in Florence”—as Francesco de’ Guicciardini has recorded—quite naturally were productive of opposition and animosity. The men who had placed him in power were again in two camps—those who were content with the status quo, and those who were not. The latter made less and less effort to conceal their real sentiments, and at length set about to question Lorenzo’s motives, and defeat his projects. He was a beau-ideal citizen, for, with all his love of show and circumstance, even in the fulness of his dignity and dominion, he knew how to retain and exhibit certain homely and simple traits, which were quite after the Florentine manner.
He met criticisms and oppositions with the very characteristic statement: “I will,” said he, “allow no man to put his foot on my throat!” This threat—for so it was accounted by those who wished to discredit him—was like a red gauntlet thrown down, and, later on, a hand—if not a foot—and a dagger, were at Lorenzo’s throat!
The overstrain of desire, the feverishness of acquisitiveness, and the lust for power, often in their intensity defeat the purpose sought. The personality of Lorenzo waxed greater and mightier day by day in the nervously articulated constitution of Florence. The greatest genius of his age, he was not only the master of the Government, but the acknowledged chief of the Platonic Academy, the first of living poets, a most distinguished classical scholar, and the greatest benefactor the city had ever known. Everything was within his grasp and everyone had to bow to his will; his aim was to be autocratic Prince of Tuscany.
It was the mark of a “perfect gentleman” to unbend to plainer folk, and to mingle with them in moments of relaxation. As a youth he had, with Giuliano, frequented the village fairs in the Mugello, for amusement and good fellowship: indeed they brought him inspiration and popularity as well. When in residence in the Medici Palace he was wont to take his walks abroad quite freely, and to sit and chat with the habitues of the osterie by the Porta San Gallo, and other similar taverns.
Florentine of the Florentines, he loved tricks and jokes, and was never tired of making fun at the expense of others: be it said, too, he knew how to take as well as give. An amusing story is told of him: being at Pisa, he chanced to see among the students of the University—which, by the way, he was instrumental in re-establishing and re-endowing—a youth who squinted. He remarked with a laugh: “That lad should easily be the head of his class!” When questioned as to his meaning, he replied jocosely: “Because he will read at the same time both pages of his book, and so will learn double!”
Entering thus unostentatiously into the lives and habits of his fellow-citizens, it was perfectly natural that he should gain their esteem, friendship, and loyal support. He soon became out and away the most popular man in Florence, notwithstanding the unworthy sneer of that ill-conditioned and self-opinionated monk, Girolamo Savonarola. “Lorenzo,” he muttered, “occupies the people with feasts and shows in order that they may think more of their own amusement than of his ambitions.”
Lorenzo was under no delusion with respect to the permanence, in a more or less subjective degree, of the spirit of revolt which had rendered his father’s succession to the Headship of the Republic difficult. The very men who had, for their own ends, misguided Piero, of course were no longer powerful—such at least of them as were still alive were in banishment; but their sons and their adjoints were ready enough to question his authority.
Swiftly enough, Lorenzo took the measures of these men, and prepared to counteract their opposition. Naturally he sought the counsel of Domina Lucrezia, than whom nobody understood better the men of Florence, their manners and their moods. Long and serious were the deliberations of mother and son. With her pregnant assistance he roughed out a scheme, so warily conceived and so faithfully elaborated, that, on its presentation to the Lords of the Signory, it was accepted almost unanimously.
This measure touched citizens in their tenderest spot—pride and love of display—for it proclaimed the appointment of the leading Signori as ambassadors to foreign courts and communes. The one great absorbing ambition of all prominent Florentines was, through all their history, to head a foreign mission, with all its honours and emoluments.
With infinite grace and persuasiveness Lorenzo put before the Council the advisability of the despatch of envoys, incidentally to announce his succession to the Headship of the State, but principally to proclaim the grandeur, the wealth, and the power, of the great Tuscan Republic. It was a master-stroke thus to appeal to the patriotism, no less than to the egotism, of their Excellencies, and, at the same time, to confirm his own supremacy!
The bait, dangled before avaricious eyes, was eagerly snapped up, and when Lorenzo backed up his proposition by munificently mounting each embassy, and by the promise of knighthood upon the return of the ambassadors, scarcely a man of those nominated held back. The scheme worked splendidly, and Lorenzo had the supreme satisfaction of bidding courteous and thankful farewells to his most prominent rivals.
Among them were such distinguished leaders of public opinion as Bernardo de’ Buongirolami, Cesare de’ Petrucci, Bernardo del Nero, Agnolo de’ Niccolini, and Piero Filippo de’ Pandolfini. Their departure was the signal for the advancement of many less known men—friends and protégés of the two brothers or of Domina Lucrezia. In this way Lorenzo greatly strengthened his hold upon the supreme power.
Two very prominent men, however, rejected the proposal—at once the most popular and most dangerous—Tommaso de’ Soderini and Francesco de’ Pazzi.
Tommaso de’ Soderini added immensely to his popularity by his noble exhibition of self-abnegation. His prudence and ability had for long pointed him out as the most trustworthy and experienced of his peers. His whole-hearted loyalty to the cause of the Medici, and the consistency with which he maintained the position he had taken up, at the plenary Parliament in 1469, and subsequently, made him, by the contrariety of circumstances, the most redoubtable rival of the ambitious and impulsive Capo della Repubblica.
The trusty pilot, who had so effectively steered the ship of State through the troubled waters of the interregnum, was, quite unintentionally and unwillingly, the greatest obstacle in the way of the young captain! Everybody who had a grievance—real or imaginary—against the government of Lorenzo, sought Messer Tommaso’s advice and sympathy, so that the situation became charged with difficulties and embarrassments. The very merest change in the whim of a fickle people might upset the Medici, and then the Soderini would be called upon to fill the vacancy. Messer Tommaso’s presence in Florence was both a source of strength to Lorenzo and his house, and a menace.
When the subject of the embassy to Rome—the chief diplomatic appointment of the Republic—was broached, Messer Tommaso, with the utmost sincerity, expressed his fervent wish to meet Lorenzo’s views in every respect, but he expressed, quite emphatically, his disinclination to undertake such an arduous duty. Not only did he plead the infirmities of age, but declared that his wife, Madonna Dianora, would never leave Florence. Her love of her own city and its people equalled that of her sister, the Domina Magnifica Lucrezia—their social, charitable and literary interests were alike and equal.
Here was a condition of affairs which called for the exercise of the greatest tact and ingenuity, and Lorenzo committed the task of overcoming the scruples of his uncle and aunt to his mother. Her efforts were entirely successful, and Lorenzo, with a deep sigh of relief, handed Messer Tommaso his credentials, and personally conducted him and his suite to the Porta Romano, and thence speeded him upon his journey.
Francesco de’ Pazzi was cast in a very different sort of mould—the very antithesis in character, demeanour, and aspiration to Tommaso de Soderini—he has very appropriately been called “the Cataline of Florence.” Possessed of immense wealth, much of which had come to him from his father, Messer Antonio, he rapidly dissipated it by selfish extravagance: no man surpassed him in the virtue or the vice—which you will—of self-seeking.
In the bitterness of an overweening and mortified ambition he rejected, with the utmost discourtesy, Lorenzo’s overtures, at the same time remorselessly exposing his intentions, and vowing that no Pazzo should “go round the corner” for a Medico! Messer Francesco displayed unreservedly the true character of his family: he was in truth the “Mirror of his race”—“L’implacabile Pazzi.”
The descent of the Pazzi was one of the most ancient among the noble families of Tuscany. The senior branch claimed Greek descent, and its members were early denizens of the hill-country about Fiesole. Leaders of men, they became adherents of the aristocratic party—the Ghibellines—and were consistent and energetic in their allegiance to the Emperor. The junior branch of the Pazzi were dwellers in the Vale of Arno—men of peaceful predilections in agriculture and commerce, throwing in their lot with the Guelphs—the democratic party of the Pope.
Giano della Bella’s “Ordinamenti di Giustizia,” in 1293, led to the disqualification of the Pazzi and many other notable families from the exercise of the franchise, and, as a consequence, they were deprived of all share in the Government.
They recognised, even in those early days of the formation of the first of modern states, that the Medici were rivals and opponents not only in domestic and commercial enterprise, but also in political advancement, and no love was lost between the two families. Nevertheless, the Pazzi were beholden to their rivals for the restoration of their civil rights.
On the return of Cosimo de’ Medici from exile in 1434, they were reinstated, and thenceforward maintained their position. Messer Andrea, next after Cosimo the most influential citizen of Florence, was elected to the Priorate in 1435, and in 1439 he was called upon to entertain no less a personage than King René of France. In 1441 he was Gonfaloniere di Giustizia.
Messer Andrea left three sons—Piero, Giacopo and Antonio. Piero served the supreme office of Gonfaloniere in 1462. He was the father of a numerous family—some historians say he had nineteen children by his wife, Madonna Fiammetta de’ Guigni! None of them, however, made their mark in the life and history of the city, except the fourth son, Belforte Renato, who was a prominent man but suffered for the ill-doings of his relations.
If Piero and his sons were unassuming citizens, Messer Andrea’s second son, Giacopo, was of a very different disposition. A man of far greater ability and more vaulting ambition than his brother, he was looked upon as the head of the family. In appearance he was prematurely old and withered up, with a pallid face and palsied frame, with great restless, staring eyes. He perpetually tossed his head about from side to side, as though afflicted with St. Vitus’ dance. Giacopo was unmarried, a libertine, notorious as a gambler and a blasphemer, a spendthrift, and jealous—beyond bounds—of the popularity and pre-eminence of Piero and Lorenzo de’ Medici. He was pointed at as the most immoral man in Florence. In the year of Lorenzo’s succession to the place of Capo della Repubblica, he obtained by bribery the high office of Gonfaloniere di Giustizia as a set-off, but, by an inconsistency as unexpected as it was transparent, he accepted, on vacating office, a knighthood at the hands of his rival.
Cavaliere Giacopo’s relations with Lorenzo were fairly cordial, outwardly at least, for as late as 1474, when at Avignon, he wrote several letters to him, full of grateful expressions for favours received and of wishes for a continuance of a good understanding. None of Cavaliere Giacopo’s illegitimate children arrived at maturity, and, on account of the failure of his elder brother’s sons to achieve distinction, the proud banner of the family was clutched by the hands of the four boys of the youngest of Messer Andrea’s sons—Guglielmo, Antonio, Giovanni, and Francesco. Their mother was Cosa degli Alessandri, a granddaughter of Alessandro degli Albizzi, who first adopted the new surname.
The brothers were very wealthy, they had amassed large fortunes in commerce, and their houses extended for a considerable distance along that most fashionable of streets—the Borgo degli Albizzi. The Palazzo de’ Pazzi doubtless was commenced by their grandfather, whose emblem—a ship—is among the architectural enrichments. The building was finished by their uncle, Giacopo—it is in the Via del Proconsolo.
As bankers, the Pazzi were noted for their enterprise generally, and for their competition with the Medici in particular. They had agencies in all the chief cities of Europe and the East, but their reputation for avarice and sharp dealing was proverbial. Perhaps no family was quite so unpopular in Florence. Their traditions were aristocratic, whilst the Medici were champions of the people.
This distinction was referred to by Madonna Alessandra Macinghi di Matteo degli Strozzi, in one of her letters to her son Filippo, at Naples. “I must bid you remember,” she wrote, “that those who are upon the side of the Medici have always done well, whilst those who belong to the Pazzi, the contrary. So I pray you be on your guard.”
The growing importance of the Pazzi gave Piero and Lucrezia de’ Medici much uneasiness, and it is quite certain that the marriage of their eldest daughter, Bianca—“Piero’s tall daughter” as she was called—to the eldest of the three brothers, was a stroke of domestic policy by way of controlling the race for wealth and power.
Lorenzo, very soon after his accession to the Headship of the State, “took the bull by the horns” and excluded the Pazzi from participation in public office. It was an extreme measure and not in accordance with his usual tact and circumspection, and of course it produced the greatest ill-will and resentment against him and his administration in every member of the proscribed family.
The situation became greatly embittered when, in 1477, Lorenzo interfered in a law-suit which concerned the marriage dower and inheritance of Beatrice, the daughter of Giovanni Buonromeo. By Florentine law the daughter should have inherited the fortune without demur, under the express will of her father, who died intestate; but, at Lorenzo’s command, the estate was passed on to Beatrice’s cousin, Carlo Buonromeo, who was the winner of the second prize in Lorenzo’s Giostra of 1468. This decision was in direct opposition to Giuliano de’ Medici’s opinion, and he did all he could to reassure Giovanni de’ Pazzi, Guglielmo’s brother, and Beatrice’s husband, of friendship and confidence.
These were not the only incidents which followed one another at the parting of the ways of the two families, but the affair of Giovanni and Beatrice was resented with peculiar bitterness by all the Pazzi. “Hence arose,” as Francesco de’ Guicciardini has testified, “the wronging of the Pazzi!”
In Francesco, the youngest of the brethren, was exhibited the most violent animosity and hatred. Blessed with superabundant self-conceit, which went so far as to cause him to spend hours a day having his unusually light-coloured hair dressed at the barber’s and his face salved and puffed at the apothecary’s to conceal his muddy complexion, he was reckoned, in the Mercato Nuovo, as little better than an ill-conditioned braggadoccio! His shortness of stature he sought to atone for by his accentuation of the Florentine pout and the Tuscan strut—he was well known, too, for his contemptuous jokes at the expense of others.
Francesco denounced Lorenzo and his Government with unmeasured scorn, and, careless of restraint, threatened that “he would be even with him, even though it cost him his life.” Macchiavelli says: “He was the most unscrupulous of his family.” “A man of blood,” Agnolo Poliziano called him, “who, when he meditated any design, went straight to his goal, regardless of morality, religion, reputation and consequences.”
Early in March he quitted Florence suddenly, giving out that his presence was required at Rome in connection with the affairs of the Pazzi bank. To say that his departure was a relief to Lorenzo is but half the truth, for he was greatly perturbed with respect to the influence which such a passionate and reckless rival would have upon his relations with the Holy See. Francesco was the subject of watchfulness upon the part of the Medici agents in Rome, where Giovanni de’ Tornabuoni set himself to thwart any hostile movement which might be made.
Among prominent men with whom Francesco de’ Pazzi was thrown into contact were Archbishop Francesco de’ Salviati and Count Girolamo de’ Riari. The Archbishop and Francesco were no strangers to one another; their families had risen to affluence and power side by side in Florence, actuated by like sentiments and engaged in like activities—hatred of the Medici was mutual.
Sixtus had proposed, in 1474, to bestow upon Francesco de’ Salviati the Archbishopric of Florence, but the Signoria, instigated by Lorenzo, refused to confirm his appointment and declined to grant him the temporalities of the See. The Pope yielded very ungraciously to the representations of the Florentine Government and named Rinaldo d’Orsini, Lorenzo’s brother-in-law, to the vacancy. This intervention was adduced by Sixtus afterwards as insubordination worthy of punishment, and he did not forget to take his revenge.
The following year Francesco de’ Salviati was chosen as Archbishop-designate of Pisa, and again the Florentines objected—being joined by the Pisans, who conspired to prevent him taking possession. The Archbishop was, according to Agnolo Poliziano—the devoted historian and poet-laureate of Lorenzo il Magnifico—“An ignorant man, a contemner of all law—human and divine—a man steeped in crime, and a disgrace to his family and the whole State.”
Count Girolamo de’ Riari, accounted a nephew of Sixtus, was, like his elder brother Piero and Caterina his sister, a natural child of the Pope. The three were treated with parental affection by the pontiff, and had their home in his private apartments, being waited upon by their unrecognised mother in the guise of nurse and guardian.
Piero de’ Riari was created a Cardinal when a spoilt boy, and became, as a man, infamous for his debauchery and villainy. Sixtus had the effrontery to select him as successor to Archbishop Orsini in Florence, but his action was prompted by a motive, which was firmly fixed in his heart. This was nothing less than the supplanting of Lorenzo de’ Medici by Piero or Girolamo! So far, however, as Cardinal de’ Riari was concerned, Sixtus’ ambitions were wholly disappointed by his sudden death, due to violent excesses of all kinds.
Like his brother, Count Girolamo, the offspring of illicit lust, and brought up in the depraved atmosphere of the Papal court, was a reprobate; but Sixtus’ vaulting ambition stopped not at character and reputation. He was bent upon the permanent aggrandisement of all the branches of the Delle Rovere family. Casting about for territorial dignity, the Pope set his heart upon the Lordship of Imola, where Taddeo Manfredi of Faenza, being in financial difficulties, had surrendered the fief to the Duke of Milan.