[Sidenote: [1434-1492 A.D.]]
The democratic party at Florence, directed by the Alberti, Ricci, and
Medici, were deprived of power in 1381, in consequence of the abuse
which their associates, the ciompi, had made of their victory. From that
time their rivals, the Albizzi, directed the republic for the space of
fifty-three years, from 1381 to 1434, with a happiness and glory till
then unexampled. No triumph of an aristocratic faction ever merited a
more brilliant place in history. The one in question maintained itself by
the ascendency of its talents and virtues, without ever interfering with
the rights of the other citizens, or abusing a preponderance which was
all in opinion. It was the most prosperous epoch of the republic--that
during which its opulence acquired the greatest development; that in
which the arts, sciences, and literature adopted Florence as their native
country; that in which were born and formed all those great men, of whom
the Medici, their contemporaries, have reaped the glory, without having
had any share in producing them; that, finally, in which the republic
most constantly followed the noblest policy: considering itself as the
guardian of the liberty of Italy, it in turns set limits to the ambition
of Gian Galeazzo Visconti, of Ladislaus, king of Naples, and of Filippo
Maria, duke of Milan. Tommaso degli Albizzi, and after him Niccolo da
Uzzano, had been the chiefs of the aristocracy at this period of glory
and wisdom. To those succeeded Rinaldo, son of Tommaso degli Albizzi, who
forgot, a little more than his predecessors, that he was only a simple
citizen. Impetuous, arrogant, jealous, impatient of all opposition, he
lost the pre-eminence which his family had so long maintained.
Rinaldo degli Albizzi saw, with uneasiness, a rival present himself in
Cosmo, son of Giovanni de’ Medici, who revived a party formerly the
vanquishers of his ancestors. This man enjoyed a hereditary popularity
at Florence, because he was descended from one of the demagogues who,
in 1378, had undertaken the defence of the minor arts against the
aristocracy; he at the same time excited the jealousy of the latter
by his immense wealth, which equalled that of the greatest princes of
Italy. Although the Albizzi saw with distrust the family of their rivals
attain the supreme magistracy, they could not exclude from it Giovanni
de’ Medici, who was gonfalonier in 1421. His son Cosmo, born in 1389,
was priore in 1416; he was the head of a commercial establishment which
had counting-houses in all the great cities of Europe and in the Levant;
he at the same time cultivated literature with ardour. His palace, one
of the most sumptuous in Florence, was the resort of artists, poets, and
learned men; of those, among others, who about this time introduced the
Platonic philosophy into Italy. The opulence of Cosmo de’ Medici was
always at the service of his friends. There were very few poor citizens
at Florence to whom his purse was not open.[e]
THE RISE, REVERSES, AND POWER OF COSMO DE’ MEDICI
[Sidenote: [1389-1433 A.D.]]
Even in the lifetime of his father, Cosmo had engaged himself deeply,
not only in the extensive commerce by which the family had acquired
its wealth, but in the weightier concerns of government. After the
death of Giovanni de’ Medici, Cosmo supported and increased the family
dignity. His conduct was uniformly marked by urbanity and kindness to
the superior ranks of his fellow-citizens, and by a constant attention
to the interests and the wants of the lower class, whom he relieved with
unbounded generosity. By these means he acquired numerous and zealous
partisans of every denomination; but he rather considered them as pledges
for the continuance of the power he possessed than as instruments to be
employed in extending it to the ruin and subjugation of the state. “No
family,” says Voltaire,[f] “ever obtained its power by so just a title.”
The authority which Cosmo and his descendants exercised in Florence,
during the fifteenth century, was of a very peculiar nature, and
consisted rather in a tacit influence on their part, and a voluntary
acquiescence on that of the people, than in any prescribed or definite
compact between them. The form of government was ostensibly a republic,
and was directed by a council of ten citizens, and a chief executive
officer called the _gonfalonière_, or standard-bearer, who was chosen
every two months. Under this establishment the citizens imagined they
enjoyed the full exercise of their liberties; but such was the power
of the Medici that they generally either assumed to themselves the
first offices of the state, or nominated such persons as they thought
proper to those employments. In this, however, they paid great respect
to popular opinion. That opposition of interests so generally apparent
between the people and their rulers, was at this time scarcely perceived
at Florence, where superior qualifications and industry were the surest
recommendations to public authority and favour. Convinced of the
benefits constantly received from this family, and satisfied that they
could at any time withdraw themselves from a connection that exacted no
engagements, and required only a temporary acquiescence, the Florentines
considered the Medici as the fathers, and not as the rulers of the
republic. On the other hand, the chiefs of this house, by appearing
rather to decline than to court the honours bestowed on them, and by a
singular moderation in the use of them when obtained, were careful to
maintain the character of simple citizens of Florence and servants of
the state. An interchange of reciprocal good offices was the only tie by
which the Florentines and the Medici were bound, and perhaps the long
continuance of this connection may be attributed to the very circumstance
of its having been in the power of either of the parties, at any time, to
dissolve it.
[Sidenote: [1433 A.D.]]
But the prudence and moderation of Cosmo, though they soothed the
jealous apprehensions of the Florentines, could not at all times repress
the ambitious designs of those who wished to possess or to share his
authority. In the year 1433, Rinaldo de’ Albizzi, at the head of a
powerful party, carried the appointment of the magistracy. At that time
Cosmo had withdrawn to his seat at Mugello, where he had remained some
months, in order to avoid the disturbances that he saw were likely to
ensue; but at the request of his friends he returned to Florence, where
he was led to expect that a union of the different parties would be
effected, so as to preserve the peace of the city. In this expectation he
was, however, disappointed. No sooner did he make his appearance in the
palace, where his presence had been requested, on pretence of his being
intended to share in the administration of the republic, than he was
seized upon by his adversaries, and committed to the custody of Federigo
Malavolti. He remained in this situation for several days, in constant
apprehension of some violence being offered to his person; but he still
more dreaded that the malice of his enemies might attempt his life by
poison. During four days, a small portion of bread was the only food
which he thought proper to take.
The generosity of his keeper at length relieved him from this state
of anxiety. In order to induce him to take his food with confidence,
Malavolti partook of it with him. In the meantime, his brother Lorenzo,
and his cousin Averardo, having raised a considerable body of men from
Romagna and other neighbouring parts, and being joined by Niccolo da
Tolentino, the commander of the troops of the republic, approached
towards Florence to his relief; but the apprehensions that, in case they
resorted to open violence, the life of Cosmo might be endangered, induced
them to abandon their enterprise. At length Rinaldo and his adherents
obtained a decree of the magistracy against the Medici and their friends,
by which Cosmo was banished to Padua for ten years, Lorenzo to Venice for
five years, and several of their relations and adherents were involved in
a similar punishment.
Cosmo would gladly have left the city pursuant to his sentence, had he
been allowed to do so, but his enemies thought it more advisable to
retain him till they had established their authority; and they frequently
gave him to understand that if his friends raised any opposition to their
measures, his life should answer it. He also suspected that another
reason for his detention was to ruin him in his credit and circumstances,
his mercantile concerns being then greatly extended. As soon as these
disturbances were known, several of the states of Italy interfered in his
behalf. Three ambassadors arrived from Venice, who proposed to take him
under their protection, and to engage that he should strictly submit to
the sentence imposed on him. The marquis of Ferrara also gave a similar
proof of his attachment. Though their interposition was not immediately
successful, it was of great importance to Cosmo, and secured him from the
attempts of those who aimed at his life. After a confinement of nearly
a month, some of his friends, finding in his adversaries a disposition
to gentler measures, took occasion to forward his cause by the timely
application of a sum of money to Bernardo Guadagni, the gonfalonier, and
to Mariotto Baldovinetti, two of the creatures of Rinaldo. This measure
was successful. He was privately taken from his confinement by night, and
led out of Florence. For this piece of service Guadagni received 1,000
florins, and Baldovinetti 800. “They were poor souls,” says Cosmo in
his _Ricordi_, “for if money had been their object, they might have had
10,000, or more, to have freed me from the perils of such a situation.”
[Sidenote: [1434-1464 A.D.]]
From Florence, Cosmo proceeded immediately towards Venice, and at
every place through which he passed, experienced the most flattering
attention and the warmest expressions of regard. On his approach to that
city he was met by his brother Lorenzo and many of his friends, and
was received by the senate with such honours as were bestowed by that
stately republic only on persons of the highest quality and distinction.
After a short stay there, he went to Padua, the place prescribed for his
banishment; but on an application to the Florentine state, by Andrea
Donato, the Venetian ambassador, he was permitted to reside on any part
of the Venetian territories, but not to approach within the distance
of 170 miles of Florence. The affectionate reception which he had met
with at Venice induced him to fix his abode there, until a change of
circumstances should restore him to his native country.
Amongst the several learned and ingenious men who accompanied Cosmo
in his banishment, or resorted to him during his stay at Venice, was
Michellozzo Michellozzi, a Florentine sculptor and architect, whom Cosmo
(according to Vasari[g]) employed in making models and drawings of the
most remarkable buildings in Venice, and also in forming a library
in the monastery of St. George, which he enriched with many valuable
manuscripts, and left as an honourable monument of his gratitude, to
a place that had afforded him so kind an asylum in his adversity.
During his residence at Venice, Cosmo also received frequent visits
from Ambrogio Traversari, a learned monk of Camaldoli, near Florence,
and afterwards superior of the monastery of that place. Though chiefly
confined within the limits of a cloister, Traversari had, perhaps, the
best pretensions to the character of a polite scholar of any man of
that age. From the letters of Traversari,[h] now extant, we learn that
Cosmo and his brother not only bore their misfortunes with firmness,
but continued to express on every occasion an inviolable attachment to
their native place. The readiness with which Cosmo had given way to the
temporary clamour raised against him, and the reluctance which he had
shown to renew those bloody rencounters that had so often disgraced the
streets of Florence, gained him new friends. The utmost exertions of his
antagonists could not long prevent the choice of such magistrates as were
known to be attached to the cause of the Medici; and no sooner did they
enter on their office, than Cosmo and his brother were recalled, and
Rinaldo, with his adherents, was compelled to quit the city. This event
took place about the expiration of twelve months from the time of Cosmo’s
banishment.
From this time the life of Cosmo de’ Medici was one of almost
uninterrupted prosperity. The tranquillity enjoyed by the republic, and
the satisfaction and peace of mind which he experienced in the esteem and
confidence of his fellow-citizens, enabled him to indulge his natural
propensity to the promotion of science, and the encouragement of learned
men. The study of the Greek language had been introduced into Italy,
principally by the exertions of the celebrated Boccaccio, towards the
latter part of the preceding century, but on the death of that great
promoter of letters it again fell into neglect. After a short interval,
another attempt was made to revive it by the intervention of Emmanuel
Chrysoloras, a noble Greek, who, during the interval of his important
embassies, taught that language at Florence and other cities of Italy,
about the beginning of the fifteenth century. His disciples were numerous
and respectable. Amongst others of no inconsiderable note were Ambrogio
Traversari, Leonardo Bruni, Carlo Marsuppini, the two latter of whom
were natives of Arezzo, whence they took the name of Aretino, Poggio
Bracciolini, Guarino Veronese, and Francesco Filelfo, who, after the
death of Chrysoloras, in 1415, strenuously vied with each other in the
support of Grecian literature, and were successful enough to keep the
flame alive till it received new aid from other learned Greeks, who were
driven from Constantinople by the dread of the Turks, or by the total
overthrow of the Eastern Empire. To these illustrious foreigners, as well
as to those eminent Italians, who shortly became their successful rivals,
even in the knowledge of their national history and language, Cosmo
afforded the most liberal protection and support. Of this the numerous
productions inscribed to his name, or devoted to his praise, are an ample
testimony. In some of these he is commended for his attachment to his
country, his liberality to his friends, his benevolence to all. He is
denominated the protector of the needy, the refuge of the oppressed, the
constant patron and support of learned men.
“You have shown,” says Poggio,[i] “such humanity and moderation in
dispensing the gifts of fortune, that they seem to have been rather the
reward of your virtues and merits, than conceded by her bounty. Devoted
to the study of letters from your early years, you have by your example
given additional splendour to science itself. Although involved in
the weightier concerns of state, and unable to devote a great part of
your time to books, yet you have found a constant satisfaction in the
society of those learned men who have always frequented your house.” In
enumerating the men of eminence who distinguished the city of Florence,
Flavio Biondo (Flavius Blondus)[j] adverts in the first instance to
Cosmo de’ Medici--“a citizen who, whilst he excels in wealth every other
citizen of Europe, is rendered much more illustrious by his prudence, his
humanity, his liberality, and what is more to our present purpose, by his
knowledge of useful literature, and particularly of history.”
_Cosmo and the Revival of Learning_
[Illustration: COSMO DE’ MEDICI]
That extreme avidity for the works of the ancient writers which
distinguished the early part of the fifteenth century announced the
near approach of more enlightened times. Whatever were the causes that
determined men of wealth and learning to exert themselves so strenuously
in this pursuit, certain it is that their interference was of the highest
importance to the interests of posterity, and that if it had been much
longer delayed, the loss would have been in a great degree irreparable;
such of the manuscripts as then existed of the ancient Greek and Roman
authors being daily perishing in obscure corners, a prey to oblivion
and neglect. It was therefore a circumstance productive of the happiest
consequences, that the pursuits of the opulent were at this time directed
rather towards the recovery of the works of the ancients than to the
encouragement of contemporary merit; a fact that may serve in some degree
to account for the dearth of original literary productions during this
interval. Induced by the rewards that invariably attended a successful
inquiry, those men who possessed any considerable share of learning
devoted themselves to this occupation, and to such a degree of enthusiasm
was it carried that the discovery of an ancient manuscript was regarded
as almost equivalent to the conquest of a kingdom.
As the natural disposition of Cosmo led him to take an active part in
collecting the remains of the ancient Greek and Roman writers, so he was
enabled, by his wealth and his extensive mercantile intercourse with
different parts of Europe and of Asia, to gratify a passion of this kind
beyond any other individual. To this end he laid injunctions on all his
friends and correspondents, as well as on the missionaries and preachers
who travelled into the remotest countries, to search for and procure
ancient manuscripts, in every language and on every subject. Besides the
services of Poggio and Traversari, Cosmo availed himself of those of
Cristoforo Buondelmonte, Antonio da Massa, Andrea de Rimino, and many
others. The situation of the Eastern Empire, then daily falling into
ruins by the repeated attacks of the Turks, afforded him, as Bandini[k]
notes, an opportunity of obtaining many inestimable works in the Hebrew,
Greek, Chaldaic, Arabic, and Indian languages. From these beginnings
arose the celebrated library of the Medici, which, after having been the
constant object of the solicitude of its founder, was after his death
further enriched by the attention of his descendants, and particularly
of his grandson Lorenzo; and after various vicissitudes of fortune, and
frequent and considerable additions, has been preserved to the present
times under the name of the Bibliotheca Mediceo-Laurentiana.
Amongst those who imitated the example of Cosmo de’ Medici was Niccolo
Niccoli, another citizen of Florence, who devoted his whole time and
fortune to the acquisition of ancient manuscripts; in this pursuit he
had been eminently successful, having collected together eight hundred
volumes of Greek, Roman, and oriental authors; a number in those times
justly thought very considerable. Several of these works he had copied
with great accuracy, and had diligently employed himself in correcting
their defects and arranging the text in its proper order. In this
respect he is justly regarded by Mehus as the father of this species
of criticism. He died in 1436, having by his will directed that his
library should be devoted to the use of the public, and appointed sixteen
curators, amongst whom was Cosmo de’ Medici. After his death, it appeared
that he was greatly in debt, and that his liberal intentions were likely
to be frustrated by the insolvency of his circumstances. Cosmo therefore
proposed to his associates, that if they would resign to him the right
of disposition of the books, he would himself discharge all the debts
of Niccolo, to which they readily acceded. Having thus obtained the
sole direction of the manuscripts, he deposited them for public use in
the Dominican monastery of San Marco, at Florence, which he had himself
erected at an enormous expense. This collection was the foundation
of another celebrated library in Florence, known by the name of the
Bibliotheca Marciana, which is yet open to inspection.
In the arrangement of the library of San Marco, Cosmo had procured the
assistance of Tommaso Calandrino (or Parentucelli), who drew up a scheme
for that purpose, and prepared a scientific catalogue of the books it
contained. In selecting a coadjutor, the choice of Cosmo had fallen upon
an extraordinary man. Though Tommaso was the son of a poor physician of
Sarzana, and ranked only in the lower order of the clergy, he had the
ambition to aim at possessing specimens of these venerable relics of
ancient genius. His learning and his industry enabled him to gratify
his wishes, and his perseverance surmounted the disadvantages of his
situation. In this pursuit he was frequently induced to anticipate his
scanty revenue, well knowing that the estimation in which he was held
by his friends would preserve him from pecuniary difficulties. With the
Greek and Roman authors no one was more intimately acquainted, and as
he wrote a very fine hand, the books he possessed acquired additional
value from the marginal observations which he was accustomed to make in
perusing them.
By rapid degrees of fortunate preferment, Tommaso was, in the short space
of twelve months, raised from his humble situation in the lower orders of
the church, to the chair of St. Peter, and in eight years, during which
time he enjoyed the supreme dignity by the name of Nicholas V, acquired
a reputation that has increased with the increasing estimation of those
studies which he so liberally fostered and protected. The scanty library
of his predecessors had been nearly dissipated or destroyed by frequent
removals between Avignon and Rome, according as the caprice of the
reigning pontiff chose either of those places for his residence; and it
appears from the letters of Traversari, that scarcely anything of value
remained. Nicholas V is therefore to be considered as the founder of the
library of the Vatican. In the completion of this great design, it is
true, much was left to be performed by his successors; but Nicholas had
before his death collected upwards of five thousand volumes of Greek and
Roman authors, and had not only expressed his intention of establishing a
library for the use of the Roman court, but had also taken measures for
carrying such intention into execution.
Whilst the munificence of the rich and the industry of the learned were
thus employed throughout Italy in preserving the remains of the ancient
authors, some obscure individuals in a corner of Germany had conceived,
and were silently bringing to perfection, an invention which, by means
equally effectual and unexpected, secured to the world the result of
their labours. This was the art of printing with movable types. The
coincidence of this discovery with the spirit of the times in which it
had birth was highly fortunate. Had it been made known at a much earlier
period, it would have been disregarded or forgotten, from the mere want
of materials on which to exercise it; and had it been further postponed,
it is probable that, notwithstanding the generosity of the rich and the
diligence of the learned, many works would have been totally lost, which
are now justly regarded as the noblest monuments of the human intellect.
Nearly the same period of time that gave the world this important
discovery, saw the destruction of the Roman Empire in the East. In the
year 1453, the city of Constantinople was captured by the Turks, under
the command of Muhammed II, after a vigorous defence of fifty-three
days. The encouragement which had been shown to the Greek professors
at Florence, and the character of Cosmo de’ Medici as a promoter of
letters, induced many learned Greeks to seek a shelter in that city,
where they met with a welcome and honourable reception. Amongst these
were Demetrius Chalcondyles, Joannes Andronicus Calistus, Constantine,
and Andreas Joannes Lascaris, in whom the Platonic philosophy obtained
fresh partisans, and by whose support it began openly to oppose itself
to that of Aristotle. Between the Greek and Italian professors a spirit
of emulation was kindled that operated most favourably on the cause of
letters. Public schools were instituted at Florence for the study of
the Greek tongue. The facility of diffusing their labours by means of
the newly discovered art of printing stimulated the learned to fresh
exertions; and in a few years the cities of Italy vied with each other in
the number and elegance of works produced from the press.
_Last Years of Cosmo_
Towards the latter period of his life, a great part of the time that
Cosmo could withdraw from the administration of public affairs, was
passed at his seats at Careggi and Caffaggiolo, where he applied himself
to the cultivation of his farms, from which he derived no inconsiderable
revenue. But his happiest hours were devoted to the study of letters and
philosophy, or passed in the company and conversation of learned men.
When he retired at intervals to his seat at Careggi, he was generally
accompanied by Ficino, where, after having been his protector, he
became his pupil in the study of the Platonic philosophy. For his use,
Ficino began those laborious translations of the works of Plato and his
followers which were afterwards completed and published in the lifetime
and by the liberality of Lorenzo. Amongst the letters of Ficino is one
from his truly venerable patron, which bespeaks most forcibly the turn
of his mind, and his earnest desire of acquiring knowledge, even at his
advanced period of life.
“Yesterday,” says he, “I arrived at Careggi--not so much for the purpose
of improving my fields as myself. Let me see you, Marsilio, as soon as
possible, and forget not to bring with you the book of our favourite
Plato, _De summo bono_, which I presume, according to your promise, you
have ere this translated into Latin; for there is no employment to which
I so ardently devote myself as to find out the true road to happiness.
Come then, and fail not to bring with you the Orphean lyre.” Whatever
might be the proficiency of Cosmo in the mysteries of his favourite
philosopher, there is reason to believe that he applied those doctrines
and precepts which furnished the litigious disputants of the age with
a plentiful source of contention, to the purposes of real life and
practical improvement. Notwithstanding his active and useful life, he
often regretted the hours he had lost. “Midas was not more sparing of his
money,” says Ficino,[l] “than Cosmo was of his time.”
The wealth and influence that Cosmo had acquired had long entitled him
to rank with the most powerful princes of Italy, with whom he might
have formed connections by the intermarriage of his children; but being
apprehensive that such measures might give rise to suspicions that he
entertained designs inimical to the freedom of the state, he rather chose
to increase his interest among the citizens of Florence by the marriage
of his children into the most distinguished families of that place.
Piero, his eldest son, married Lucretia Tornabuoni, by whom he had two
sons--Lorenzo, born on the first day of January, 1448, and Giuliano, born
in the year 1453. Piero had also two daughters, Nannina, who married
Bernardo Rucellai, and Bianca, who became the wife of Gulielmo de’ Pazzi.
Giovanni, the younger son of Cosmo, espoused Cornelia de’ Alessandri,
by whom he had a son who died very young. Giovanni himself did not long
survive. He died in the year 1461, at forty-two years of age. Living
under the shade of paternal authority, his name scarcely occurs in the
pages of history; but the records of literature bear testimony that in
his disposition and studies he did not derogate from the reputation of
that characteristic attachment to men of learning by which his family was
invariably distinguished.
Besides his legitimate offspring, Cosmo left also a natural son,
Carlo de’ Medici, whom he liberally educated, and who compensated the
disadvantages of his birth by the respectability of his life. The
manners of the times might be alleged in extenuation of a circumstance
apparently inconsistent with the gravity of the character of Cosmo
de’ Medici; but Cosmo himself disclaimed such apology, and whilst he
acknowledged his youthful indiscretion, made amends to society for the
breach of a salutary regulation, by attending to the morals and the
welfare of his illegitimate descendant. Under his countenance, Carlo
became proposto of Prato, and one of the apostolic notaries; and as his
general residence was at Rome, he was frequently resorted to by his
father and brothers for his advice and assistance in procuring ancient
manuscripts and other valuable remains of antiquity.
[Illustration: AN ITALIAN CAPTAIN, FIFTEENTH CENTURY]
The death of Giovanni de’ Medici, on whom Cosmo had placed his chief
expectations, and the weak state of health that Piero experienced, which
rendered him unfit for the exertions of public life in so turbulent
a place as Florence, raised great apprehensions in Cosmo that at his
decease the splendour of his family would close. These reflections
embittered the repose of his latter days. A short time before his death,
being carried through the apartments of his palace, after having recently
lost his son, he exclaimed with a sigh, “This is too great a house for
so small a family.” These apprehensions were in some degree realised by
the infirmities under which Piero laboured during the few years in which
he held the direction of the republic; but the talents of Lorenzo soon
dispelled this temporary gloom, and exalted his family to a degree of
reputation and splendour, of which it is probable that Cosmo himself had
scarcely formed an idea.[d]
While Cosmo de’ Medici thus fixed the public attention by his private
life, Neri Capponi gained the suffrages of the people by his public
conduct. Charged, as ambassador, with every difficult negotiation--in
war, with every hazardous enterprise--he participated in all the
brilliant successes of the Florentines, as well during the domination of
the Albizzi as during that of the Medici. From the year 1434 to 1455, in
which Neri Capponi died, these two chiefs of the republic had six times
assembled the parliament to make a balia; and, availing themselves of its
authority, which was above the law, they obtained the exile of all their
enemies, and filled the balloting purses of the magistracy with the names
of their own partisans, to the exclusion of all others. It appears that
all the efforts of their administration were directed towards calming the
passions of the public, and maintaining peace without, as well as repose
within, the state. They had, in fact, succeeded in preventing Florence
from being troubled with new factions, or engaged in new wars; but they
drew on the republic all the evils attending an aristocratic government.
Medici and Capponi had not been able to find men who would sacrifice
the liberties of their country without allowing them to gratify their
baser passions. These two heads of the republic, therefore, suffered
their subordinate agents to divide among themselves all the little
governments of the subject cities, and every lucrative employment;
and these men, not satisfied with this first injustice, made unequal
partitions of the taxes, increasing them on the poor, lowering them on
the rich, and exempting themselves. At last they began to sell their
protection, as well with respect to the tribunals as the councils; favour
silenced justice; and, in the midst of peace and apparent prosperity,
the Florentines felt their republic, undermined by secret corruption,
hastening to ruin.
[Sidenote: [1455-1464 A.D.]]
When Neri Capponi died, the council refused to call a new parliament to
replace the balia, whose power expired on the 1st of July, 1455. It was
the aristocracy itself, comprehending all the creatures of Cosmo de’
Medici, that, from jealousy of his domination, wished to return to the
dominion of the laws. The whole republic was rejoiced, as if liberty had
been regained. The election of the signoria was again made fairly by
lot--the _catasto_ was revised, the contributions were again equitably
apportioned, the tribunals ceased to listen to the recommendations of
those who, till then, had made a traffic of retributive justice. The
aristocracy, seeing that clients no longer flocked to their houses with
hands full, began to perceive that their jealousy of Cosmo de’ Medici
had only injured themselves. Cosmo, with his immense fortune, was just
as much respected as before; the people were intoxicated with joy to
find themselves again free; but the aristocracy felt themselves weak
and abandoned. They endeavoured to convoke a parliament without Cosmo;
but he baffled their efforts, the longer to enjoy their humiliation. He
began to fear, however, that the Florentines might once more acquire a
taste for liberty; and when Lucas Pitti, rich, powerful, and bold, was
named gonfalonier, in July, 1458, he agreed with him to reimpose the
yoke on the Florentines. Pitti assembled the parliament; but not till he
had filled all the avenues of the public square with soldiers or armed
peasants. The people, menaced and trembling within this circle, consented
to name a new balia, more violent and tyrannical than any of the
preceding. It was composed of 352 persons, to whom was delegated all the
power of the republic. They exiled a great number of the citizens who had
shown the most attachment to liberty, and they even put some to death.[e]
Cosmo now approached the period of his mortal existence, but the
faculties of his mind yet remained unimpaired. About twenty days before
his death, when his strength was visibly on the decline, he entered into
conversation with Ficino, and whilst the faint beams of a setting sun
seemed to accord with his situation and his feelings, began to lament the
miseries of life and the imperfections inseparable from human nature.
As he continued his discourse, his sentiments and his views became more
elevated, and from bewailing the lot of humanity, he began to exult
in the prospect of that happier state towards which he felt himself
approaching. Ficino replied by citing corresponding sentiments from the
Athenian sages, and particularly from Xenocrates; and the last task
imposed by Cosmo on his philosophic attendant was to translate from the
Greek the treatise of that author on death. Having prepared his mind to
wait with composure the awful event, his next concern was the welfare of
his surviving family, to whom he was desirous of imparting, in a solemn
manner, the result of the experience of a long and active life. Calling
into his chamber his wife Contessina, and his son Piero, he entered into
a narrative of all his public transactions; he gave a full account of
his extensive mercantile connections, and adverted to the state of his
domestic concerns. To Piero he recommended a strict attention to the
education of his sons. He requested that his funeral might be conducted
with as much privacy as possible, and concluded his paternal exhortations
by declaring his willingness to submit to the disposal of providence
whenever he should be called upon. These admonitions were not lost on
Piero, who communicated by letter to Lorenzo and Giuliano the impression
which they had made upon his own mind. At the same time, sensible of
his own infirmities, he exhorted them to consider themselves not as
children but as men, seeing that circumstances rendered it necessary
to put their abilities to an early proof. “A physician,” says Piero,
“is hourly expected to arrive from Milan, but, for my own part, I place
my confidence in God.” Either the physician did not arrive, or Piero’s
distrust of him was well founded, for, about six days afterwards, being
the first day of August, 1464, Cosmo died, at the age of seventy-five
years, deeply lamented by a great majority of the citizens of Florence,
whom he had firmly attached to his interest, and who feared for the
safety of the city from the dissensions that were likely to ensue.
_Roscoe’s Estimate of Cosmo_
The character of Cosmo de’ Medici exhibits a combination of virtues
and endowments rarely to be found united in the same person. If in his
public works he was remarkable for his magnificence, he was no less
conspicuous for his prudence in private life. Whilst in the character
of chief of the Florentine Republic he supported a constant intercourse
with the sovereigns of Europe, his conduct in Florence was divested
of all ostentation, and neither in his retinue, his friendships, nor
his conversation, could he be distinguished from any other respectable
citizen. He well knew the jealous temper of the Florentines, and
preferred the real enjoyment of authority to that open assumption of it
which could only have been regarded as a perpetual insult by those whom
he permitted to gratify their own pride in the reflection that they were
the equals of Cosmo de’ Medici.
In affording protection to the arts of architecture, painting, and
sculpture, Cosmo set the great example to those who by their rank and
their riches could alone afford them effectual aid. The countenance
shown by him to those arts was not of that kind which their professors
generally experience from the great; it was not conceded as a bounty,
nor received as a favour, but appeared in the friendship and equality
that subsisted between the artist and his patron. In the erection of the
numerous public buildings in which Cosmo expended incredible sums of
money, he principally availed himself of the assistance of Michellozzo
Michellozzi and Filippo Brunelleschi--the first of whom was a man of
talents, the latter of genius. Soon after his return from banishment,
Cosmo engaged these two artists to form the plan of a mansion for his
own residence. Brunelleschi gave scope to his invention, and produced
the design of a palace which might have suited the proudest sovereign
in Europe; but Cosmo was led by that prudence which, in his personal
accommodation, regulated all his conduct, to prefer the plan of
Michellozzi, which united extent with simplicity, and elegance with
convenience. With the consciousness, Brunelleschi possessed also the
irritability of genius, and in a fit of vexation he destroyed a design
which he unjustly considered as disgraced by its not being carried into
execution. Having completed his dwelling, Cosmo indulged his taste in
ornamenting it with the most precious remains of ancient art, and in
the purchase of vases, statues, busts, gems, and medals, expended no
inconsiderable sum.
Nor was he less attentive to the merits of those artists whom his native
place had recently produced. With Masaccio, a better style of painting
had arisen; and the cold and formal manner of Giotto and his disciples
had given way to a more natural and expressive composition. In Cosmo de’
Medici this rising artist found his most liberal patron and protector.
Some of the works of Masaccio were executed in the chapel of the
Brancacci, where they were held in such estimation that the place was
regarded as a school of study by the most eminent artists who immediately
succeeded him. Even the celebrated Michelangelo, when observing these
paintings many years afterwards, in company with his honest and
loquacious friend Vasari, did not hesitate to express his decided
approbation of their merits. The reputation of Masaccio was emulated
by his disciple, Filippo Lippi, who executed for Cosmo and his friends
many celebrated pictures, of which Vasari[g] has given a minute account.
Cosmo, however, found no small difficulty in controlling the temper and
regulating the eccentricities of this extraordinary character. If the
efforts of these early masters did not reach the true end of the art,
they afforded considerable assistance towards it; and whilst Masaccio and
Filippo decorated with their admired productions the altars of churches
and the apartments of princes, Donatello gave to marble a proportion of
form, a vivacity of expression, to which his contemporaries imagined
that nothing more was wanting; Brunelleschi raised the great dome of the
cathedral of Florence; and Ghiberti cast in bronze the stupendous doors
of the church of St. John, which Michelangelo deemed worthy to be the
gates of paradise.
[Illustration: A FLORENTINE OF THE FIFTEENTH CENTURY]
In his person, Cosmo was tall; in his youth, he possessed the advantage
of a prepossessing countenance; what age had taken from his comeliness
it had added to his dignity; and in his latter years, his appearance was
so truly venerable as to have been the frequent subject of panegyric.
His manner was grave and complacent, but upon many occasions he gave
sufficient proofs that this did not arise from a want of talents for
sarcasm; and the fidelity of the Florentine historians has preserved many
of his shrewd observations and remarks. When Rinaldo de’ Albizzi, who
was then in exile, and meditated an attack upon his native place, sent a
message to Cosmo, importing that the hen would shortly hatch, he replied,
“She will hatch with an ill grace out of her own nest.” On another
occasion, when his adversaries gave him to understand that they were
not sleeping, “I believe it,” said Cosmo, “I have spoiled their sleep.”
“Of what colour is my hair?” said Cosmo, uncovering his head to the
ambassadors of Venice, who came with a complaint against the Florentines.
“White,” they replied. “It will not be long,” said Cosmo, “before that
of your senators will be so, too.” Shortly before his death, his wife
inquiring why he closed his eyes, “That I may accustom them to it,” was
his reply.
If, from considering the private character of Cosmo, we attend to his
conduct as the moderator and director of the Florentine Republic, our
admiration of his abilities will increase with the extent of the theatre
upon which he had to act. So important were his mercantile concerns,
that they often influenced in a very remarkable degree the politics of
Italy. When Alfonso, king of Naples, leagued with the Venetians against
Florence, Cosmo called in such immense debts from those places as
deprived them of resources for carrying on the war. During the contest
between the houses of York and Lancaster, one of his agents in England
was resorted to by Edward IV for a sum of money, which was furnished to
such an extraordinary amount, that it might almost be considered as the
means of supporting that monarch on the throne, and was repaid when his
successes enabled him to fulfil his engagement. The alliance of Cosmo
was sedulously courted by the princes of Italy; and it was remarked that
by a happy kind of fatality, whoever united their interests with his,
was always enabled either to repress or to overcome their adversaries.
By his assistance the republic of Venice resisted the united attacks
of Filippo, duke of Milan, and of the French nation; but when deprived
of his support, the Venetians were no longer able to withstand their
enemies. Whatever difficulties Cosmo had to encounter, at home or abroad,
they generally terminated in the acquisition of additional honour to his
country and to himself. The esteem and gratitude of his fellow-citizens
were fully shown a short time before his death, when by a public decree
he was honoured with the title of _Pater Patriæ_, Father of his Country,
an appellation which was inscribed on his tomb, and which, as it was
founded on real merit, has ever since been attached to the name of Cosmo
de’ Medici.[d]
“With all his faults,” says Von Reumont,[c] “Cosmo was certainly a
remarkable man. More than anyone else he contributed to keep alive not
only the forms but much of the spirit of civil equality and dignity,
after it had become impossible to avoid a party government leading sooner
or later to the preponderance of one family.”
Marsilio Ficino[l] described Cosmo as “a man intelligent above all
others, pious before God, just and high-minded towards his fellow-men,
modest in everything that concerned himself, active in his private
affairs, but still more careful and prudent in public ones. He did not
live for himself alone,” adds the eulogist, “but for the service of God
and his country.”
COSMO’S SUCCESSOR
During the later years of Cosmo’s life Lucas Pitti came to regard
himself as the future chief of the state. It was about this time that
he undertook the building of that magnificent palace which formed the
residence of the grand dukes. The republican equality was not only
offended by the splendour of this regal dwelling, but the construction of
it afforded Pitti an occasion for marking his contempt of liberty and the
laws. He made of this building an asylum for all fugitives from justice,
whom no public officer dared pursue when once he took part in the labour.
At the same time individuals, as well as communities, who would obtain
some favour from the republic, knew that the only means of being heard
was to offer Lucas Pitti some precious wood or marble to be employed in
the construction of his palace.
[Sidenote: [1464-1466 A.D.]]
When Cosmo de’ Medici died, on the 1st of August, 1464, Lucas Pitti felt
himself released from the control imposed by the virtue and moderation
of that great citizen. Cosmo’s son, Piero de’ Medici, then forty-eight
years of age, supposed that he should succeed to the administration
of the republic, as he had succeeded to the wealth of his father, by
hereditary right; but the state of his health did not admit of his
attending regularly to business, or of his inspiring his rivals with much
fear. To diminish the weight of affairs which oppressed him, he resolved
on withdrawing a part of his immense fortune from commerce, recalling
all his loans made in partnership with other merchants, and laying out
this money in land. But this unexpected demand of considerable capital
occasioned a fatal shock to the commerce of Florence, at the same time
that it alienated all the debtors of the house of Medici, and deprived
it of much of its popularity. The death of Sforza also, which took place
on the 8th of March, 1466, deprived the Medicean party of its firmest
support abroad. Francesco Sforza, whether as condottiere or duke of
Milan, had always been the devoted friend of Cosmo. His son, Galeazzo
Sforza, who succeeded him, declared his resolution of persisting in
the same alliance; but the talents, the character, and, above all, the
glory of his father, were not to be found in him. Galeazzo seemed to
believe that the supreme power which he inherited brought him the right
of indulging every pleasure--of abandoning himself to every vice without
restraint. He dissipated by his ostentation the finances of the duchy of
Milan; he stained by his libertinism the honour of almost all the noble
families; and he alienated the people by his cruelty.
The friends of liberty at Florence soon perceived that Lucas Pitti and
Piero de’ Medici no longer agreed together; and they recovered courage
when the latter proposed to the council the calling of a parliament,
in order to renew the balia, the power of which expired on the 1st of
September, 1465: his proposition was rejected. The magistracy began again
to be drawn by lot from among the members of the party victorious in
1434. This return of liberty, however, was but of short duration. Pitti
and Medici were reconciled; they agreed to call a parliament, and to
direct it in concert; to intimidate it, they surrounded it with foreign
troops.
But Medici, on the nomination of the balia, on the 2nd of September,
1466, found means of admitting his own partisans only, and excluding
all those of Lucas Pitti. The citizens who had shown any zeal for
liberty were all exiled; several were subjected to enormous fines. Five
commissioners, called _accoppiatori_, were charged to open, every two
months, the purse from which the signoria were to be drawn, and choose
from thence the names of the gonfalonier and eight priori, who were to
enter office. These magistrates were so dependent on Piero de’ Medici,
that the gonfalonier went frequently to his palace to take his orders,
and afterwards published them as the result of his deliberations with his
colleagues, whom he had not even consulted. Lucas Pitti ruined himself
in building his palace. His talents were judged to bear no proportion to
his ambition; the friends of liberty, as well as those of Medici, equally
detested him, and he remained deprived of all power in a city which he
had so largely contributed to enslave.
Italy became filled with Florentine emigrants; every revolution, even
every convocation of parliament, was followed by the exile of many
citizens. The party of the Albizzi had been exiled in 1434; but the
Alberti, who had vanquished it, were, in turn, banished in 1466; and
among the members of both parties were to be found almost all the
historical names of Florence--those names which Europe had learned to
respect, either for immense credit in commerce, or for the lustre which
literature and the arts shed on them.
[Sidenote: [1466-1470 A.D.]]
Italy was astonished at the exile of so many illustrious persons. At
Florence, the citizens who escaped proscription trembled to see despotism
established in their republic; but the lower orders were in general
contented, and made no attempt to second Bartolommeo Colleoni, when he
entered Tuscany, in 1467, at the head of the Florentine emigrants, who
had taken him into their pay. Commerce prospered; manufactures were
carried on with great activity; high wages supported in comfort all who
lived by their labour; and the Medici entertained them with shows and
festivals, keeping them in a sort of perpetual carnival, amidst which the
people soon lost all thought of liberty.
Piero de’ Medici was always in too bad a state of health to exercise in
person the sovereignty he had usurped over his country; he left it to
five or six citizens who reigned in his name. Tommaso Soderini, Andrea
de’ Pazzi, Luigi Guicciardini, Matteo Palmieri, and Pietro Minerbetti,
were the real chiefs of the state. They not only transacted all business,
but appropriated to themselves all the profit; they sold their influence
and credit; they gratified their cupidity or their vengeance: but
they took care not to act in their own names, or to pledge their own
responsibility; they left that to the house of Medici. Piero, during the
latter months of his life, perceived the disorder and corruption of his
agents. He was afflicted to see his memory thus stained, and he addressed
them the severest reprimands; he even entered into correspondence with
the emigrants, whom he thought of recalling, when he died, on the 2nd of
December, 1469. His two sons, Lorenzo and Giuliano, the elder of whom was
not twenty-one years of age, were presented by Tommaso Soderini to the
foreign ambassadors, to the magistrates, and to the first citizens of the
ruling faction; which last he warned, that the only means of maintaining
their party was to preserve the respect of all for its chiefs. But the
two younger Medici, given up to all the pleasures of the age, had yet
no ambition. The power of the state remained in the hands of the five
citizens who had exercised it under Piero.
PIERO’S SONS AND THE CONSPIRACIES
Italy had reached the fatal period at which liberty can no longer be
saved by a noble resistance, or recovered by open force. There remained
only the dangerous and, most commonly, the fatal resource of conspiracy.
So far from experiencing the repugnance we now feel to assassination as a
means of delivering our country, men of the fifteenth century perceived
honour in a murder, virtue in the sacrifice, and historic grandeur in
conspiracy. Danger alone stopped them; but that danger must be terrible.
Tyrants, feeling themselves at war with the universe, were always on
their guard; and as they owed their safety only to terror, the punishment
which they inflicted, if victorious, was extreme in its atrocity. Yet
these terrors did not discourage the enemies of the existing order,
whether royalist or republican. Never had there been more frequent or
more daring conspiracies than in this century. The ill success of some
never deterred others from immediately treading in their steps.
The first plot was directed against the Medici. Bernardo Nardi, one of
the Florentine citizens, who had been exiled from his country in the time
of Piero de’ Medici, accompanied by about a hundred of his partisans,
surprised the gate of Prato, on the 6th of April, 1470. He made himself
master of the public palace, and arrested the Florentine podesta; he
took possession of the citadel and afterwards, traversing the streets,
called on the people to join him, and fight for liberty. He intended to
make this small town the stronghold of the republican party, whence to
begin his attack on the Medici. But although he had succeeded by surprise
in making himself master of the town, the inhabitants remained deaf
to his voice, and not one answered his call--not one detested tyranny
sufficiently to combat it, at the peril of the last extremity of human
suffering. The friends of the government, seeing that Nardi remained
alone, at last took arms, attacked him on all sides, and soon overpowered
him by numbers. Nardi was made prisoner, led to Florence, and there
beheaded with six of his accomplices; twelve others were hanged at Prato.
[Illustration: STREET COSTUME OF AN ITALIAN NOBLEMAN, FIFTEENTH CENTURY]
[Sidenote: [1476 A.D.]]
In 1476 a conspiracy was formed, at Milan, against Galeazzo Sforza, whose
yoke became insupportable to all who had any elevation of soul. There
was no crime of which that false and ferocious man was not believed
to be capable. Among other crimes, he was accused of having poisoned
his mother. It was remarked of him that, enjoying the spectacle of
astonishment and despair, he always preferred to strike the most suddenly
and cruelly those whom he had given most reason to rely on his friendship.
Not satisfied with making the most distinguished women of his states the
victims of his seduction or his violence, he took pleasure in publishing
their shame--in exposing it to their brothers or husbands. He not
unfrequently gave them up to prostitution. His extravagant pomp exhausted
his finances, which he afterwards recruited by the most cruel extortion
on the people. He took pleasure in inventing new and most atrocious forms
of capital punishment; even that of burying his victims alive was not the
most cruel. At last, three young nobles, of families who had courageously
resisted the usurpation of Francesco Sforza, and who had themselves
experienced the injustice and outrages of his son, resolved to deliver
their country from this monster; not doubting that, when he had fallen,
the Milanese would joyfully unite in substituting a free government for a
tyranny.
Girolamo Olgiati, Carlo Visconti, and Andrea Lampugnani resolved, in
concert, to trust only to themselves, without admitting one other person
into their secret. Their enthusiasm had been excited by the lessons of
their literary instructor, Colas di Montano, who continually set before
them the grandeur of the ancient republics, and the glory of those who
had delivered them from tyranny. Determined on killing the duke, they
long exercised themselves in the handling of the dagger, to be more sure
of striking him, each in the precise part of the tyrant’s body assigned
to him. Animated with a religious zeal, not less ardent than their
republican enthusiasm, they prepared themselves by prayer, by vows to
St. Stephen, and by the assistance of the mass, for the act which they
were about to perform. They made choice of the 26th of December, 1476,
St. Stephen’s Day, on which they knew that the duke Galeazzo would go in
state to the church of the saint. They waited for him in that church;
and when they saw him advance between the ambassadors of Ferrara and
Mantua, they respectfully approached him, their caps in hand. Feigning to
keep off the crowd, they surrounded him, and struck him all at the same
instant, in the midst of his guards and courtiers. Galeazzo Sforza fell
dead under their weapons; and the crowd which filled the church saw the
tumult and heard the cries, without comprehending the cause.
[Sidenote: [1476-1478 A.D.]]
The three conspirators endeavoured to escape from the church, to call
the people to arms and liberty; but the first sentiments which they
encountered were astonishment and terror. The guards of the duke drew
their swords only to avenge him. Lampugnani, in attempting to avoid them,
got entangled in the trains of the kneeling women, was thrown down, and
killed by an esquire of Galeazzo; a few steps from him, Visconti also was
put to death by the guards. But Olgiati had the misfortune to escape,
in this first moment, from all who pursued him; and, running through
the streets, called loudly to arms and liberty; not one person answered
the call. He afterwards sought to conceal himself, but was discovered,
seized, and put to the most excruciating torture. In the interval between
that infliction and his death, he wrote or dictated the narrative
demanded of him, and which has been handed down to us. It is composed
in a strain of the noblest enthusiasm, with a deep religious feeling,
with an ardent love of liberty, and with the firm persuasion that he had
performed a good action. He was again delivered to the executioner to
have his flesh torn with red-hot pincers. At the time of his martyrdom he
was only twenty-two years of age.[e]
_The Pazzi Conspiracy_
The public agitation excited by the assassination of the duke of Milan
had scarcely subsided, before an event took place at Florence of a much
more atrocious nature, inasmuch as the objects destined to destruction
had not afforded a pretext, in any degree plausible, for such an attempt.
Accordingly, we have now to enter on a transaction that has seldom been
mentioned without emotions of the strongest horror and detestation; and
which, as has justly been observed, is an incontrovertible proof of the
practical atheism of the times in which it took place--a transaction in
which a pope, a cardinal, an archbishop, and several other ecclesiastics
associated themselves with a band of ruffians, to destroy two men who
were an honour to their age and country; and purposed to perpetrate their
crime at a season of hospitality, in the sanctuary of a Christian church,
and at the very moment of the elevation of the Host, when the audience
bowed down before it, and the assassins were presumed to be in the
immediate presence of their God.
At the head of this conspiracy were Sixtus IV and his nephew, Girolamo
Riario. Raffaello Riario, the nephew of this Girolamo, who, although
a young man then pursuing his studies, had lately been raised to the
dignity of cardinal, was rather an instrument than an accomplice in the
scheme. The enmity of Sixtus to Lorenzo had for some time been apparent,
and if not occasioned by the assistance which Lorenzo had afforded to
Niccolo Vitelli, and other independent nobles, whose dominions Sixtus
had either threatened or attacked, was certainly increased by it. The
destruction of the Medici appeared, therefore, to Sixtus as the removal
of an obstacle that thwarted all his views, and by the accomplishment of
which the small surrounding states would soon become an easy prey. There
is, however, great reason to believe that the pope did not confine his
ambition to these subordinate governments, but that if the conspiracy
had succeeded to his wish, he meant to have grasped at the dominion of
Florence itself. The alliance lately formed between the Florentines,
the Venetians, and the duke of Milan, which was principally effected by
Lorenzo de’ Medici, and by which the pope found himself prevented from
disturbing the peace of Italy, was an additional and powerful motive of
resentment. One of the first proofs of the displeasure of the pope was
his depriving Lorenzo of the office of treasurer of the papal see, which
he gave to the Pazzi, a Florentine family, who, as well as the Medici,
had a public bank at Rome, and who afterwards became the coadjutors of
Sixtus in the execution of his treacherous purpose.
The conspiracy, of which Sixtus and his nephew were the real instigators,
was first agitated at Rome, where the intercourse between the count
Girolamo Riario and Francesco de’ Pazzi, in consequence of the office
held by the latter, afforded them an opportunity of communicating to each
other their common jealousy of the power of the Medici, and their desire
of depriving them of their influence in Florence; in which event it is
highly probable that the Pazzi were to have exercised the chief authority
in the city, under the patronage, if not under the avowed dominion,
of the papal see. The principal agent engaged in the undertaking was
Francesco Salviati, archbishop of Pisa, to which rank he had lately been
promoted by Sixtus, in opposition to the wishes of the Medici, who had
for some time endeavoured to prevent him from exercising his episcopal
functions. If it be allowed that the unfavourable character given him by
Politian is exaggerated, it is generally agreed that his qualities were
the reverse of those which ought to have been the recommendations to such
high preferment. The other conspirators were Jacopo Salviati, brother of
the archbishop; Jacopo Poggio, one of the sons of the celebrated Poggio
Bracciolini, and who, like all the other sons of that eminent scholar,
had obtained no small share of literary reputation; Bernardo Bandini,
a daring libertine, rendered desperate by the consequences of his
excesses; Giovan Battista Montesicco, who had distinguished himself by
his military talents as one of the condottieri of the armies of the pope;
Antonio Maffei, a priest of Volterra, and Stefano de Bagnone, one of the
apostolic scribes, with several others of inferior note.
In the arrangement of their plan, which appears to have been concerted
with great precaution and secrecy, the conspirators soon discovered that
the dangers which they had to encounter were not so likely to arise
from the difficulty of the attempt, as from the subsequent resentment
of the Florentines, a great majority of whom were strongly attached to
the Medici. Hence it became necessary to provide a military force, the
assistance of which might be equally requisite whether the enterprise
proved abortive or successful. By the influence of the pope, the king of
Naples, who was then in alliance with him, and on one of whose sons he
had recently bestowed a cardinal’s hat, was also induced to countenance
the attempt.
These preliminaries being adjusted, Girolamo wrote to his nephew, the
cardinal Riario, then at Pisa, ordering him to obey whatever directions
he might receive from the archbishop. A body of two thousand men were
destined to approach by different routes towards Florence, so as to be in
readiness at the time appointed for striking the blow.
Shortly afterwards, the archbishop requested the presence of the cardinal
at Florence, whither he immediately repaired, and took up his residence
at a seat of the Pazzi, about a mile from the city. It seems to have been
the intention of the conspirators to effect their purpose at Fiesole,
where Lorenzo then had his country residence, to which they supposed that
he would invite the cardinal and his attendants. Nor were they deceived
in this conjecture, for Lorenzo prepared a magnificent entertainment on
this occasion; but the absence of Giuliano, on account of indisposition,
obliged the conspirators to postpone the attempt. Being thus disappointed
in their hopes, another plan was now to be adopted; and on further
deliberation it was resolved that the assassination should take place
on the succeeding Sunday, in the church of the Reparata, since called
Santa Maria del Fiore, and that the signal for execution should be the
elevation of the Host. At the same moment, the archbishop and others
of the conspirators were to seize upon the palace, or residence of the
magistrates, whilst the office of Jacopo de’ Pazzi was to endeavour, by
the cry of “Liberty!” to incite the citizens to revolt.
The immediate assassination of Giuliano was committed to Francesco de’
Pazzi and Bernardo Bandini, and that of Lorenzo had been intrusted to the
sole hand of Montesicco. This office he had willingly undertaken whilst
he understood that it was to be executed in a private dwelling, but he
shrank from the idea of polluting the house of God with so heinous a
crime. Two ecclesiastics were therefore selected for the commission of a
deed from which the soldier was deterred by conscientious motives. These
were Stefano da Bagnone, the apostolic scribe, and Antonio Maffei.
The young cardinal having expressed a desire to attend divine service
in the church of the Reparata, on the ensuing Sunday, being the 26th
day of April, 1478, Lorenzo invited him and his suite to his house in
Florence. He accordingly came with a large retinue, supporting the united
characters of cardinal and apostolic legate, and was received by Lorenzo
with that splendour and hospitality with which he was always accustomed
to entertain men of high rank and consequence. Giuliano did not appear, a
circumstance that alarmed the conspirators, whose arrangements would not
admit of longer delay. They soon, however, learned that he intended to be
present at the church. The service was already begun, and the cardinal
had taken his seat, when Francesco de’ Pazzi and Bandini, observing that
Giuliano was not yet arrived, left the church and went to his house, in
order to insure and hasten his attendance. Giuliano accompanied them,
and as he walked between them they threw their arms round him with the
familiarity of intimate friends, but in fact to discover whether he had
any armour under his dress; possibly conjecturing, from his long delay,
that he had suspected their purpose. At the same time, by their freedom
and jocularity, they endeavoured to obviate any apprehensions which he
might entertain from such a proceeding. The conspirators, having taken
their stations near their intended victims, waited with impatience for
the appointed signal. The bell rang, the priest raised the consecrated
wafer, the people bowed before it, and at the same instant Bandini
plunged a short dagger into the breast of Giuliano.
On receiving the wound, he took a few hasty steps and fell, when
Francesco de’ Pazzi rushed upon him with incredible fury, and stabbed him
in different parts of his body, continuing to repeat his strokes even
after he was apparently dead. Such was the violence of his rage that
he wounded himself deeply in the thigh. The priests who had undertaken
the murder of Lorenzo were not equally successful. An ill-directed blow
from Maffei, which was aimed at the throat, but took place behind the
neck, rather roused him to his defence than disabled him. He immediately
threw off his cloak, and holding it up as a shield in his left hand, with
his right he drew his sword, and repelled his assailants. Perceiving
that their purpose was defeated, the two ecclesiastics, after having
wounded one of Lorenzo’s attendants who had interposed to defend him,
endeavoured to save themselves by flight. At the same moment, Bandini,
his dagger streaming with the blood of Giuliano, rushed towards Lorenzo;
but meeting in his way with Francesco Nori, a person in the service of
the Medici, in whom they placed great confidence, he stabbed him with a
wound instantaneously mortal. At the approach of Bandini, the friends
of Lorenzo encircled him, and hurried him into the sacristy, where
Politian and others closed the doors, which were of brass. Apprehensions
being entertained that the weapon which had wounded him was poisoned,
a young man attached to Lorenzo sucked the wound. A general alarm and
consternation commenced in the church; and such was the tumult that
ensued that it was at first believed that the building was falling in;
but no sooner was it understood that Lorenzo was in danger, than several
of the youth of Florence formed themselves into a body, and receiving him
into the midst of them, conducted him to his house, making a circuitous
turn from the church, lest he should meet with the dead body of his
brother.
[Illustration: PALAZZO VECCHIO, FLORENCE]
While these transactions passed in the church, another commotion arose
in the palace, where the archbishop, who had left the church, as agreed
upon before the attack on the Medici, and about thirty of his associates,
attempted to overpower the magistrates, and to possess themselves of the
seat of government. Leaving some of his followers stationed in different
apartments, the archbishop proceeded to an interior chamber, where Cesare
Petrucci, then gonfalonier, and the other magistrates were assembled. No
sooner was the gonfalonier informed of his approach than, out of respect
to his rank, he rose to meet him. Whether the archbishop was disconcerted
by the presence of Petrucci, who was known to be of a resolute character,
of which he had given a striking instance in frustrating the attack of
Bernardo Nardi upon the town of Prato, or whether his courage was not
equal to the undertaking, is uncertain; but instead of intimidating the
magistrates by a sudden attack, he began to inform Petrucci that the pope
had bestowed an employment on his son, of which he had to deliver to him
the credentials. This he did with such hesitation, and in so desultory a
manner, that it was scarcely possible to collect his meaning. Petrucci
also observed that he frequently changed colour, and at times turned
towards the door, as if giving a signal to someone to approach.
Alarmed at his manner, and probably aware of his character, Petrucci
suddenly rushed out of the chamber, and called together the guards and
attendants. By attempting to retreat, the archbishop confessed his guilt.
In pursuing him, Petrucci met with Jacopo Poggio, whom he caught by the
hair, and throwing him on the ground, delivered him into the custody of
his followers. The rest of the magistrates and their attendants seized
upon such arms as the place supplied, and the implements of the kitchen
became formidable weapons in their hands. Having secured the doors of the
palace, they furiously attacked their scattered and intimidated enemies,
who no longer attempted resistance. During this commotion, they were
alarmed by a tumult from without, and perceived from the windows Jacopo
de’ Pazzi, followed by about one hundred soldiers, crying out, “Liberty!”
and exhorting the people to revolt. At the same time they found that the
insurgents had forced the gates of the palace, and that some of them were
entering to defend their companions. The magistrates, however, persevered
in their defence, and repulsing their enemies, secured the gates till a
reinforcement of their friends came to their assistance. Petrucci was now
first informed of the assassination of Giuliano, and the attack made upon
Lorenzo. The relation of this treachery excited his highest indignation.
With the concurrence of the state counsellors, he ordered Jacopo Poggio
to be hung in sight of the populace, out of the palace windows, and
secured the archbishop, with his brother, and the other chiefs of the
conspiracy. Their followers were either slaughtered in the palace, or
thrown half alive through the windows. One only of the whole number
escaped. He was found some days afterwards concealed in the wainscots,
perishing with hunger, and in consideration of his sufferings received
his pardon.
The young cardinal Riario, who had taken refuge at the altar, was
preserved from the rage of the populace by the interference of Lorenzo,
who appeared to give credit to his asseverations that he was ignorant of
the intentions of the conspirators. Ammirato[m] asserts that his fears
had so violent an effect upon him that he never afterwards recovered his
natural complexion. His attendants fell a sacrifice to the resentment of
the citizens. The streets were polluted with the dead bodies and mangled
limbs of the slaughtered. With the head of one of these unfortunate
wretches on a lance, the populace paraded the city, which resounded with
the cry of “_Palle! Palle!_” (Perish the traitors.) Francesco de’ Pazzi,
being found at the house of his uncle, Jacopo, where on account of his
wound he was confined to his bed, was dragged out naked and exhausted
by loss of blood, and being brought to the palace, suffered the same
death as his associate. His punishment was immediately followed by that
of the archbishop, who was hung through the windows of the palace, and
was not allowed even to divest himself of his prelatical robes. The last
moments of Salviati, if we may credit Politian, were marked by a singular
instance of ferocity. Being suspended close to Francesco de’ Pazzi, he
seized the naked body with his teeth, and relaxed not from his hold even
in the agonies of death.