upon himself; and therefore, after that, by some message by one or two of
them, he had tasted of the Earl's consent, it was agreed that these four
should murder their master, the lieutenant, secretly, in the night, and
make their best of such money and portable goods of his as they should
find ready at hand, and get the keys of the Tower, and presently let
forth Perkin and the Earl. But this conspiracy was revealed in time,
before it could be executed. And in this again the opinion of the King's
great wisdom did surcharge him with a sinister fame, that Perkin was but
his bait to entrap the Earl of Warwick. And in the very instant while
this conspiracy was in working, as if that also had been the King's
industry, it was fated that there should break forth a counterfeit Earl
of Warwick, a cordwainer's son, whose name was Ralph Wilford; a young man
taught and set on by an Augustin friar, called Patrick. They both from
the parts from Suffolk came forward into Kent, where they did not only
privily and underhand give out that this Wilford was the true Earl of
Warwick, but also the friar, finding some light credence in the people,
took the boldness in the pulpit to declare as much, and to incite
the people to come in to his aid. Whereupon they were both presently
apprehended, and the young fellow executed, and the friar condemned to
perpetual imprisonment.
This also happening so opportunely, to represent the danger to the King's
estate from the Earl of Warwick, and thereby to color the King's severity
that followed; together with the madness of the friar so vainly and
desperately to divulge a treason before it had gotten any manner of
strength; and the saving of the friar's life, which nevertheless was,
indeed, but the privilege of his order; and the pity in the common
people, which, if it run in a strong stream, doth ever cast up scandal
and envy, made it generally rather talked than believed that all was
but the King's device. But howsoever it were, hereupon Perkin, that had
offended against grace now the third time, was at last proceeded with,
and by commissioners of oyer and determiner, arraigned at Westminster
upon divers treasons committed and perpetrated after his coming on
land within this kingdom, for so the judges advised, for that he was a
foreigner, and condemned, and a few days after executed at Tyburn; where
he did again openly read his confession, and take it upon his death to be
true. This was the end of this little cockatrice of a king that was able
to destroy those that did not espy him first. It was one of the longest
plays of that kind that had been in memory, and might perhaps have had
another end if he had not met with a king wise, stout, and fortunate.
[Footnote 1: Sister to Edward IV, and widow of Charles _le Téméraire_,
Duke of Burgundy.]
[Footnote 2: Bernard André, the poet laureate of Henry VII, states in his
manuscript life of his patron, that Perkin, when a boy, was "_servant_ in
England to a Jew named Edward, who was baptized, and adopted as godson by
Edward IV, and was on terms of intimacy with the King and his family."
Speed, mistranslating André's words, makes Perkin the _son_ of the Jew,
instead of the servant; and Bacon amplifies the error, and transforms
John Osbeck into the convert Jew, who, having a handsome wife, it might
be surmised why the licentious King "should become gossip in so mean a
house." Hume adds: "People thence accounted for that resemblance which
was afterward remarked between young Perkin and that monarch." The
surmise of Bacon, grounded upon the error of Speed, is clinched into the
positive assertion of Hume as to a popular belief for which there is not
the slightest ground.--_Charles Knight_.]
[Footnote:3 The Abbey of Beaulieu, near Southampton.]
SAVONAROLA'S REFORMS AND DEATH
THE FRENCH INVADE ITALY
A.D. 1494
PASQUALE VILLARI JEAN C. L. SISMONDI
Girolamo Savonarola, the great moral, political, and religious reformer
of Italy, was born in Ferrara, September 21, 1452. He was of noble
family, studied medicine, but renounced his intended profession and
became a Dominican monk. In 1491 he became prior of St. Mark's, Florence.
When he began to preach in the Church of St. Mark on the sins of the
time, he applied to Italy the prophetic language of the Apocalypse. He
predicted the restoration of the Church in Italy through severe divine
viistations. His power in the pulpit was overwhelming, and the fame
of his preaching was spread abroad, many regarding him as an inspired
prophet. In his denunciations he spared neither wealth nor position,
laity nor clergy, and he exhorted the people to order their lives by the
simple rules of Scripture.
Savonarola refused to pay the customary homage of his office to the ruler
of Florence, who at this time was Lorenzo de' Medici. His own office,
the preacher declared, was received, not from Lorenzo, but from God.
Overlooking the slight, Lorenzo tried by all means to win Savonarola's
favor, but the reformer persisted in denouncing him. When a committee
asked the preacher to desist from his denunciations and prophetic
warnings, he bade them tell Lorenzo to repent of his sins, adding that,
if he threatened banishment, the ruler himself would soon depart, while
his censor would remain in Florence.
In 1492 Lorenzo died and his son Piero succeeded him. But Savonarola now
became the most powerful man in the republic, and he exerted himself for
reformation of his own monastery, the Church, and the state itself. Soon
he prophesied the downfall of the Medici, against whom he arrayed a
considerable part of the Florentine people. He predicted that one should
come over the Alps and wreak vengeance upon the tyrants of Italy. In 1494
Charles VIII of France invaded Italy, warred against Naples, and advanced
on Florence. Piero de' Medici, thoroughly frightened, surrendered his
strongholds and agreed to pay Charles two hundred thousand ducats.
Of Savonarola's career from this time, and the state of Florence up to
the day of his death, the two authors here selected give faithful and
vivid narratives. In _Romola_ George Eliot portrays the character and
acts of this great reformer with a legitimate intensifying, for artistic
purposes, of the certified facts of history.
PASQUALE VILLARI
The month of November, 1494, began under sinister auspices in Florence.
The unexpected, almost incredible news of the surrender of fortresses
which had cost the republic prolonged sieges and enormous expense, and
formed the key of the whole Tuscan territory, instantly raised a tumult
among the people, and the general fury was increased by letters received
from the French camp, and the accounts of the returned envoys. For they
told with what ease honorable terms might have been wrested from the
King; with what a mixture of cowardice and self-assertion Piero de'
Medici had placed the whole republic at the mercy of Charles VIII.
All gave free vent to their indignation, and the people began to gather
in the streets and squares. Some of the crowd were seen to be armed with
old weapons which had been hidden away for more than half a century; and
from the wool and silk manufactories strong, broad-set, dark-visaged men
poured forth. On that day it seemed as though the Florentines had leaped
back a century, and that, after patient endurance of sixty years'
tyranny, they were now decided to reconquer their liberty by violence and
bloodshed.
Nevertheless, in the midst of this general excitement, men's minds were
daunted by an equally general feeling of uncertainty and distrust. It
was true that the Medici had left no soldiers in Florence, and that the
people could at any moment make themselves masters of the whole city; but
they knew not whom to trust, nor whom to choose as their leader. The old
champions of liberty had nearly all perished during the last sixty years,
either at the block or in persecution and exile. The few men at all
familiar with state affairs were those who had always basked in the favor
of the Medici; and the multitude just freed from slavery would inevitably
recur to license if left to themselves. This, therefore, was one of
those terrible moments when no one could foretell what excesses and what
atrocities might not be committed. All day the people streamed aimlessly
through the streets, like an impetuous torrent; they cast covetous
glances on the houses of the citizens who had amassed wealth by acts
of oppression; but they had no one to lead them; only, at the hour of
Savonarola's sermon, they all flocked instinctively to the Duomo. Never
had so dense a throng been gathered within its walls; all were too
closely packed to be able to move; and when at last Savonarola mounted
the pulpit he looked down upon a solid and motionless mass of upturned
faces. Unusual sternness and excitement were depicted on every
countenance, and he could see steel corselets flashing here and there in
the cloaked crowd.
The friar was now the only man having any influence over the people, who
seemed to hang on his words and look for safety to him alone. One hasty
word from his mouth would have sufficed to cause all the houses of the
principal citizens to be sacked, to revive past scenes of civil warfare,
and lead to torrents of blood. For the people had been cruelly trampled
on, and were now panting for a cruel revenge. He therefore carefully
abstained from all allusion to politics; his heart was overflowing with
pity; he bent forward with outstretched arms from the pulpit, and, in
tones which echoed throughout the building, proclaimed the law of peace
and charity and union.
"Behold the sword has come upon you, the prophecies are fulfilled, the
scourges begun! Behold! these hosts are led by the Lord! O Florence! the
time of singing and dancing is at an end; now is the time to shed floods
of tears for thy sins. Thy sins, O Florence! thy sins, O Rome! thy sins,
O Italy! They have brought these chastisements upon thee! Repent ye,
then; give alms, offer up prayers, be united! O my people! I have long
been as thy father; I have labored all the days of my life to teach ye
the truths of faith and of godly living, yet have I received naught but
tribulation, scorn, and contumely; give me at least the consolation of
seeing ye do good deeds! My people, what desire hath ever been mine but
to see ye saved, to see ye united? 'Repent ye, for the kingdom of heaven
is at hand!' But I have said this so many times, I have cried to ye so
many times; I have wept for thee, O Florence! so many times, that it
should be enough. To thee I turn, O Lord, to thee, who didst die for love
of us and for our sins; forgive, forgive, O Lord, the Florentine people,
that would fain be thy people."
In this strain he continued to exhort his hearers to charity, faith, and
concord with such succeeding earnestness and fervor that he was exhausted
and almost ill for several days after. These sermons were less eloquent
than some of the others, since he was too deeply moved for reflection or
for studied effects; but the tenderness with which he spoke dominated and
soothed the people, who, fresh from the tumults without, entered this
place of peace to hear the words of the Gospel. So magical was the power
of Savonarola's voice in those days that, in all this great stir of
public excitement, not a single excess was committed, and the revolution
that seemed on the point of being effected by violence on the Piazza was
quietly and peacefully accomplished within the walls of the palace.
And this miracle, unprecedented in Florentine history, is unanimously
attributed by the historians of the time to Savonarola's beneficial
ascendency over the minds of the people.
On November 4th, the seigniory called a special meeting of the Council of
Seventy, in order to decide what course to adopt. All the members were
adherents and nominees of the Medici, but were so enraged by the cowardly
surrender of the fortresses that they already had the air of a republican
assembly. According to the old Florentine law and custom, no one was
allowed to speak unless invited to do so by the seigniory, and was then
only expected to support the measures which they had proposed. But in
moments of public excitement neither this nor any other law was observed
in Florence. On this day there was great agitation in the council; the
safety of the country was at stake; the seigniory asked everyone for
advice, and all wished to speak. Yet so much were men's minds daunted by
the long habit of slavery that when Messer Luca Corsini broke through the
old rule, and, rising to his feet uninvited, began to remark that things
were going badly, the city falling into a state of anarchy, and that some
strong remedy was required, everyone felt amazed. Some of his colleagues
began to murmur, others to cough; and at last he began to falter and
became so confused that he could not go on with his speech.
However, the debate was soon reopened by Jacopo di Tanai de' Nerli, a
youth of considerable spirit, who warmly seconded Corsini's words; but
he too presently began to hesitate, and his father, rising in great
confusion, sought to excuse him in the eyes of the assembly by saying
that he was young and foolish.
Lastly Piero di Gino Capponi rose to his feet. With his finely
proportioned form, white hair, fiery glance, and a certain air of buoyant
courage like that of a war-horse at sound of trumpet, he attracted
universal attention and reduced all to silence. He was known to be a man
of few but resolute words and of still more resolute deeds. He now spoke
plainly and said: "Piero de' Medici is no longer fit to rule the state;
the republic must provide for itself; _the moment has come to shake off
this baby government_. Let ambassadors be sent to King Charles, and,
should they meet Piero by the way, let them pass him without salutation;
and let them explain that he has caused all the evil, and that the city
is well disposed to the French. Let honorable men be chosen to give a
fitting welcome to the King; but, at the same time, let all the captains
and soldiery be summoned in from the country and hidden away in cloisters
and other secret places. And besides the soldiery let all men be prepared
to fight in case of need, so that when we shall have done our best to act
honestly toward this most Christian monarch, and to satisfy with money
the avarice of the French, we may be ready to face him and show our teeth
if he should try us beyond our patience, either by word or deed. And
above all," he said in conclusion, "it must not be forgotten to send
Father Girolamo Savonarola as one of the ambassadors, for he has gained
the entire love of the people." He might have added: because he has the
entire respect of the King; for Charles had conceived an almost religious
veneration for the man who had so long foretold his coming, and declared
it to be ordained by the Lord.
The new ambassadors were elected on November 5th, and consisted of
Pandolfo Rocellai, Giovanni Cavalcanti, Piero Capponi, Tanai de' Nerli,
and Savonarola. The latter allowed the others to precede him to Lucca,
where they hoped to meet the King, while he followed on foot according
to his usual custom, accompanied by two of his brethren. But, before
starting, he again addressed the people, and preached a sermon ending
with these words: "The Lord hath granted thy prayers, and wrought a great
revolution by peaceful means. He alone came to rescue the city when it
was forsaken of all. Wait and thou shalt see the disasters which will
happen elsewhere. Therefore be steadfast in good works, O people of
Florence; be steadfast in peace! If thou wouldst have the Lord steadfast
in mercy, be thou merciful toward thy brethren, thy friends, and thy
enemies; otherwise thou too shalt be smitten by the scourges prepared for
the rest of Italy. '_Misericordiam volo_,' crieth the Lord unto ye. Woe
to him that obeyeth not his commands!" After delivering this discourse
he started for Pisa, where the other ambassadors, and also the King,
speedily arrived.
Meanwhile disturbances went on increasing, and the populace seemed
already intoxicated with license. The dwellings of Giovanni Guidi, notary
and chancellor of the Riformagioni, and of Antonio Miniati, manager of
the Monte, were put to the sack, for both these men, having been faithful
tools of the Medici, and their subtle counsellors in the art of burdening
the people with insupportable taxes, were objects of general hatred. The
house of Cardinal Giovanni de' Medici was also pillaged, together with
the garden by St. Mark's, in which so many treasures of art had been
collected by Lorenzo. So far, with the exception of a few dagger-thrusts,
no blood had been shed; but many were eager for conflict, and it would
have certainly begun had not Savonarola's partisans done their best to
keep the peace, and had not the friar been hourly expected from Pisa,
whither he had repaired on the 13th day of the month with a second
embassy. The seigniory also endeavored to quell the disturbances by means
of edicts of the severest kind.
But the popular discontent was now heightened by the arrival of other
envoys from Pisa with very unsatisfactory tidings. They had informed the
King that Florence was friendly to him, and already preparing to welcome
him with all the honors due to his royalty; they only asked that, being
received as a friend, he should bear himself in that light, and deign to
name his terms at once, so that free vent might be given to the public
joy. But the only reply Charles condescended to give was that, "Once in
the great town, all should be arranged." And it was evident from his
majesty's coldness that the solicitations of Piero de' Medici, his
earnest prayers, lavish promises of money, and submissive obedience had
turned him not in his favor. Consequently the ambassadors had to leave
without any definite answer, and could only say that the monarch was by
no means well disposed to the republic.
But when the foiled envoys had left Pisa, Savonarola repaired to the
French camp, and, passing through that great host of armed men, made his
way to the King's presence. Charles, who was surrounded by his generals,
received him very kindly, and thereupon, without wasting much time in
preliminaries, the friar, in sonorous and almost commanding accents,
addressed him with a short exhortation beginning as follows: "O most
Christian King, thou art an instrument in the hand of the Lord, who
sendeth thee to relieve the woes of Italy, as for many years I have
foretold; and he sendeth thee to reform the Church, which now lieth
prostrate in the dust. But if thou be not just and merciful; if thou
shouldst fail to respect the city of Florence, its women, its citizens,
and its liberty; if thou shouldst forget the task the Lord hath sent thee
to perform, then will he choose another to fulfil it; his hand shall
smite thee, and chastise thee with terrible scourges. These things say I
unto you in the name of the Lord." The King and his generals seemed much
impressed by Savonarola's menacing words, and to have full belief in
them. In fact, it was the general feeling of the French that they were
divinely guided to fulfil the Lord's work, and Charles felt a strong
veneration for the man who had prophesied his coming and foretold the
success of his expedition. Consequently the friar's exhortation inspired
him with real terror, and also decided him to behave more honorably to
the Florentines. Thus, when Savonarola returned to the city shortly
after the other ambassadors, he was the bearer of more satisfactory
intelligence.
As the King's intentions were still unknown, fresh relays of ambassadors
were sent out to him. But meanwhile French officers and men passed the
gates in little bands of fifteen or so at a time, and were seen roving
about the town unarmed, jaunty, and gallant, bearing pieces of chalk in
their hands to mark the houses on which their troops were to be billeted.
While affecting an air of contemptuous indifference, they were unable to
hide their amazement at the sight of so many splendid buildings, and at
every turn were confounded by the novel scenes presented to their gaze.
But what struck them most of all was the grim severity of the palaces,
which appeared to be impregnable strongholds, and the towns still scarred
with the marks of fierce and sanguinary faction fights. Then, on November
15th, they witnessed a sight that sent a thrill of fear to their souls.
Whether by accident or design, a rumor suddenly spread through the town
that Piero de' Medici was nearing the gates. Instantly the bell of the
seigniory clanged the alarm; the streets swarmed with a furious mob;
armed men sprang, as by magic, from the earth, and rushed toward the
Piazza; palace doors were barred; towers bristled with defenders;
stockades began to be built across the streets, and on that day the
French took their first lesson in the art of barricades. It was soon
ascertained that the rumor was false, and the tumult subsided as quickly
as it had risen. But the foreign soldiers were forced to acknowledge that
their tactics and stout battalions would be almost powerless, hemmed in
those streets, against this new and unknown mode of warfare. In fact, the
Florentines looked on the Frenchmen with a certain pert assurance, as if
they would say, "We shall see!" For, having now regained its liberty,
this people thought itself master of the world, and almost believed that
there was nothing left for it to fear.
Meanwhile splendid preparations were being made in the Medici palace for
the reception of King Charles; his officers were to be lodged in the
houses of the principal citizens, and the streets through which he was to
pass were covered with awnings and draped with hangings and tapestries.
On November 17th the seigniory assembled on a platform erected by the San
Frediano gate; and numbers of young Florentine nobles went forth to meet
the King, who made his state entry at the twenty-first hour of the day.
The members of the seigniory then rose and advanced toward him to pay
their respects, while Messer Luca Corsini, being deputed to that office,
stood forth to read a written address. But just at that moment rain began
to fall, the horses grew restless and hustled against one another, and
the whole ceremony was thrown into confusion.
Only Messer Francesco Gaddi, one of the officers of the palace, had
sufficient presence of mind to press his way through the throng and make
a short speech suited to the occasion in French, after which the King
moved forward under a rich canopy. The monarch's appearance was in
strange contrast with that of the numerous and powerful army behind him.
He seemed almost a monster, with his enormous head, long nose, wide,
gaping mouth, big, white, purblind eyes, very diminutive body,
extraordinarily thin legs, and misshapen feet. He was clad in black
velvet and a mantle of gold brocade, bestrode a tall and very beautiful
charger, and entered the city riding with his lance levelled--a martial
attitude then considered as a sign of conquest. All this rendered the
meanness of his person the more grotesquely conspicuous. By his side rode
the haughty Cardinal of St. Piero in Vincoli, the Cardinal of St. Malo,
and a few marshals. At their heels came the royal bodyguard of one
hundred bowmen, composed of the finest young men in France, and then
two hundred French knights marching on foot with splendid dresses and
equipment. These were followed by the Swiss vanguard, resplendent and
party-colored, bearing halberds of burnished steel, and with rich waving
plumes on their officers' helmets. The faces of these men expressed the
mountaineer spirit of daring, and the proud consciousness of being the
first infantry in Europe; while the greater part of them had scornfully
thrown aside the cuirass, preferring to fight with their chests bared.
The centre consisted of Gascon infantry, small, light, agile men, whose
numbers seemed to multiply as the army advanced. But the grandest sight
was the cavalry, comprising the flower of the French aristocracy, and
displaying finely wrought weapons, mantles of gorgeous brocade, velvet
banners embroidered with gold, chains of gold, and other precious
ornaments. The cuirassiers had a terrible aspect, for their horses seemed
like monsters with their cropped tails and ears. The archers were men of
extraordinary height, armed with very long wooden bows; they came
from Scotland and other northern countries, and, in the words of a
contemporary historian, "seemed to be beast-like men" _("parevano uomini
bestiali")_.