POSITION AND CONNECTIONS OF THE MEDICI.
THE house of Medici seemed to be blind to the gravity of the
situation, to judge by their outward behaviour. The days were passed
when an experienced man like Cosimo weighed everything with anxious
deliberation, and was afraid to show how high he stood in city and
State, or when his son was led to a retired life by illness and
inclination. A young man, brilliant, talented, self-conscious, early
called into active life, and who had grown up in a prominent position,
stood at the head of the State, and was determined to enjoy life. A
second was growing up, perhaps less gifted, but yet a genuine son of
a house in which intellectual capacities and the wish not to hide his
light under a bushel already appeared hereditary, powerful, splendid,
a born leader of youth. It was only natural that the youth of Florence
thronged around Lorenzo and Giuliano. The house and household in the
Via Larga were already grown beyond the modesty of the citizen. The
large income of the family derived from banks, trade, farming, estates,
made great expenditure possible; and if expenses of the most various
kinds, for public and private ends, perhaps began to exceed the income,
no one troubled himself about that. Lorenzo once expressed himself
concerning the considerable sums which were expended, especially in his
grandfather’s time, for churches and convents, for houses and villas,
on scientific and artistic objects, for household and social expenses,
in such a manner as to show how high he placed the gain resulting
from it. ‘I find,’ he says in his notices,[185] in an extract of the
accounts, ‘that we have spent a large sum of money from 1434 to the
end of 1471. This sum appears incredible; it amounts to 663,755 gold
florins for benevolent purposes, buildings and taxes, not to mention
the other expenses. I will not complain of it. Although many may think
it would be better for us to have a part of it in our purse, I feel
satisfied that this outlay does great honour to our position, and the
money is well spent, so that I am quite content.’ No house in Florence
was furnished with objects of art, antiquities, and luxury like that of
the Medici. When princes arrived in Florence for whom the quarters of
the popes in the convent of Sta. Maria Novella seemed too austere, or
when illustrious ladies came on a visit, they generally alighted at the
house of the Medici. In Florence men were accustomed to see them do the
honours; the Signoria needed only to provide for the suite, which was
then exceedingly numerous, even with princes of the second rank.
Of Lorenzo’s daily intercourse with scholars and artists, and of their
share in his domestic life, we shall speak further on. A learned
education was, however, so common in Florence, and the citizens, who
divided their time between commerce, State business, and literary
or scientific pursuits, were so numerous, that beside those who
made learning their calling as teachers, authors, collectors, there
existed a whole class of men whose learning, especially in ancient
literature, was as profound, while their views were much widened by
active business life, and by missions that carried them beyond the
narrower circle of the philologists and book-learned. Many of these
have been already mentioned; others we shall meet hereafter. Nearly all
belonged to the Medicean circle. It is evident that from such a centre
a powerful influence must be exercised over the whole of society. It
also contributed to raise Lorenzo into the princely position which he
assumed more and more, and to establish him there. It effected also at
the same time the dissemination of that higher culture, the combination
of intellectual with material interests, which have spread a glory
which cannot be pronounced deceptive over a state of things which had
its dark side, and over tendencies which were dangerous in many ways.
The Italian princes had already accustomed themselves to reckon the
Medici among their own class. The greater ones regarded them almost
as their equals, while the smaller ones looked up to them. Great and
small, the Aragonese and Sforza not excepted, needed Florentine money,
and knew that they could not obtain it without their intervention,
either from the State or from the banks. Even the Medici did not always
succeed in obtaining grants from the State; as in the spring of 1471,
when a loan requested by King Ferrante of 20,000 gold florins, not a
very large sum, was not granted, on account of the opposition of the
Gonfaloniere Bardo Corsi, who drew upon himself thereby the ill-will
of those in power. This, however, was an exceptional occurrence.
Most of the petty princes and Signori depended on the protection
of the Republic, as we have said, or took mercenary service under
her, so that they naturally sought to retain the favour of the heads
of the Government. From all sides and in affairs of every kind,
recommendations, proposals, requests and representations were sent to
Lorenzo and his brother.[186] Most numerous of all are the letters
of Galeazzo Maria Sforza, who never ceased to address to Lorenzo
recommendations for the transfer of offices which were filled by
foreign nobles. When the command of the Milanese troops was granted
to the Marquis of Montferrat at the beginning of 1474, he hastened
to notify it to Florence. ‘I consider it my duty to inform Your
Magnificences of the matter, as I am convinced that you take interest
in all pleasant and honourable things which befall me, as becomes the
fraternal sympathy and friendship which have always existed between
us.’ When the same marquis sends his seneschal and councillor, Pietro
de Tebaldeschi, to Rome, he recommends him to the Medici. Ercole of
Este and his consort, Lodovico, Federigo, Rodolfo Gonzaga, Leonello
Pio of Carpi, Jacopo Appiani, the Sanseverini, with King René and his
son, Duke John, all turn to the Medici; King Edward IV. of England
applies to them in mercantile affairs; Ferdinand of Aragon and Sicily
recommends to them a nobleman who had conducted the administration
of Corsica, and who wished to be Podestà in Florence. Numerous are
the letters of Federigo of Montefeltro, whether they concern the
settlement of his pecuniary affairs, or his recommendation to offices,
or the like. ‘I know well,’ he writes in a letter addressed in April
1476 to Lorenzo, on behalf of M. Francesco da Sassatello, ‘that it is
unnecessary to recommend to you such as your friends and servants,
especially when I also am interested in them.’
Most numerous of all, however, are the communications with King
Ferrante and his family, after the year 1471. There are requests
of every kind, recommendations of Florentine merchants settled in
Naples, or Jews from Nola and Salerno, imprisoned in Florence, for
whose loyalty the king pledges himself. We find also intercessions for
Madonna Selvaggia, wife of Piero Gambacorta, of the family who formerly
ruled in Pisa, but had removed to Florence on account of a lawsuit; for
Raffaello Acciaiuoli, Agnolo’s son, who, like his father, was sentenced
to banishment in consequence of Diotisalvi Neroni’s conspiracy, for
the Abbot of St. Paul’s at Rome, and for numerous Neapolitans, who
had interests or business in the territory of the Republic. ‘If we,’
writes the king to Lorenzo on July 12, 1476, ‘wish to obtain any
kind of favour from the illustrious Republic, we long for no other
mediator and representative than Your Magnificence, as your great
authority is known to us, and we have always known by experience how
readily you fulfil our wishes.’ In September 1473, Ferrante begs him
to charge his business correspondents in Lyons and Vienne to forward
the despatches of the Neapolitan ambassador at the court of King Louis
XI. with their own communications. And so one letter follows another.
The same relations continued with the king’s sons, especially the two
eldest, Alfonso and Federigo. We have already spoken of the personal
connections of both with Lorenzo, and their repeated meetings; their
epistolary correspondence answered to this friendly relation, and the
sons added their recommendations to their father’s.
The Duchess of Calabria, Ippolita Maria, always counted on the
friendship which united the Medici with the house of Sforza. That
intellectual and highly cultivated woman who once greeted Pope Pius
II. at the Congress of Mantua with a Latin speech, always kept up
communication with Lorenzo. Even in the lifetime of Piero de’ Medici,
in 1468, when she, three years after her marriage with the Aragonese
prince, was on a visit to Milan, she was already corresponding with
Lorenzo, and recommended to him a knight well known to her for the
office of Podestà in Florence. In 1473 she wrote to him concerning
Florentine merchants who had had a great quantity of coarse woollen
cloth (it was called Perpignano after the town where this kind was
first made) woven at Capua, and sought permission to import it. On
March 8, 1478, shortly therefore after the outbreak of the eventful
dissensions of which we shall speak in the course of this history,
she interceded with Lorenzo for the liberation from prison of Lorenzo
Cavalcanti, a man of an old noble family, describing to him the poverty
and distress of his family. Four years before, she had requested of
him a loan; her letter is a characteristic proof of the position which
the citizen and banker held towards the princes, to whose circle he
indeed belonged without the external insignia. ‘Illustrious and mighty
and paternally respected lord,’ so wrote Ippolita Maria d’Aragona
Visconti on July 10, 1474, from the Castle of Capuano, then the
residence of the Neapolitan heir-apparent,’the old existing kindness
and intimate friendship between the family of Your Magnificence and
our late illustrious parents, and your especial affection for our most
illustrious brother, the Duke of Milan, assure us, and fill us with the
certain hope, that you will support us in our great embarrassment, for
which we shall ever owe you gratitude. We beg you, therefore, to lend
us 2,000 ducats gratis for a time to be fixed by yourself, we promising
its punctual repayment on the word of an honourable woman (“a fede de
leale madama”). For the sake of the affection that Your Magnificence
cherishes for us, as well as the dear remembrance of our parents, and
your friendly relations with our brother, we hope that you will readily
fulfil our request. Should you, however, not have the sum ready to
hand, we beg you to use your influence with your friends and adherents
to procure it for us. As deposit we will send some of our jewellery
corresponding in value to the sum mentioned, and be ever grateful to
you for this service, according to our own character and our hereditary
custom. When Your Magnificence sends the sum we will deliver the jewels
to the messenger, or send a special messenger to you with them, in case
you should prefer it. So we beg you to send a kind and speedy answer by
the messenger who brings this, and recommend ourselves to you as always
ready for your service.’ We shall speak further of later communications
between the Duchess and Lorenzo, who received perfumed waters from the
Castle of Capuano.
If the Neapolitan Crown-Princess thus wrote, it is no wonder that
one of the victims of Mohammedan conquest and Christian feud which
the East then sent to Italy, Caterina, Queen of Bosnia—the most
unhappy of queens (‘omnium reginarum infortunatissima’), as she called
herself—adopted a yet humbler tone. From Rome, where the unfortunate
princess had found refuge in 1466, and, like so many princely exiles
before and after, lived by the Pope’s support, till, after twelve
years, she was buried in Sta. Maria Araceli, she turned on January
28, 1472, to Lorenzo and Giuliano, with whom she had already been
in communication for two years. The Medici bank in Rome was charged
with the payment of her annual pension; she begged for cash, instead
of being obliged, as frequently happened, to take payment in kind.
She also appealed to old connections of the Medici with her family,
which might have been through the mediation of Mathias Corvinus, and
to the universally famed magnanimity of the brothers, which befitted
their position. At the same time she recommended herself and her
interests to their mother, ‘the illustrious lady whom she loved as a
sister’—expressions which the Duchess of Milan, Bianca Maria Visconti
Sforza, had employed seven years before in a letter to Madonna Lucrezia.
While Italian and other princes stood on this footing with the Medici,
their clients must have been numerous in Florence itself. It is a
proof of the tact with which they understood how to manage their
fellow-citizens, that while making use of them they never forgot their
equality of rank, but treated them as confidants as well as friends.
In the first rank of these was Luigi Pulci, whom we have already known
as court-poet and _protégé_ of their mother. In the autumn of 1470 he
accompanied Madonna Lucrezia to Fuligno, from whence he proceeded to
Camerino, lying in the mountains between Umbria and the border land,
to execute a commission given him by Lorenzo to Giulio Cesare Varano,
lord of the little town and state. The Varani had risen in the latter
times of the Hohenstaufen dynasty, and had gradually, as usual, by the
administration of civil offices, attained a lordship restricted by the
church, and often endangered by quarrels and insurrections. From the
fourteenth century they had repeatedly entered the Neapolitan service.
In the Malatesta war, the lord of Camerino had fought on the Papal
side; he had an intention of breaking with the Florentines. When
Lorenzo sent Luigi Pulci to him, with what commission is not known, he
received him with the greatest deference. ‘He assured me,’ wrote Pulci
to his patron,[187] ‘that there was no one in all Italy for whom he
would do what he would for you. Your father had once procured him a
Florentine condotta, and he was much indebted to yourself.’
From Umbria the poet and man of business repaired to Naples,
proclaiming on the way, as he writes, ‘from Monterotondo, and in Rome
and Bracciano and wherever there were Orsini, the wonders of Madonna
Clarice, so that her picture will be hung up everywhere.’ When Lorenzo
needed a man of heart and tongue to be with the king and duke, he might
rely upon him. ‘All the world speaks here of you, your position, your
demeanour, and holds you and us in high honour. In especial, you are
a favourite of the king.’ The king sent Lorenzo two beautiful horses,
and a third to Guglielmo de’ Pazzi; the Duke of Calabria wished much
that the Medici would set up a bank in Naples, like the Strozzi, &c.
True, Florentine affairs were not quite satisfactory. ‘They are arming
here with all their might against the Turks, but the ambassador of the
king announces that little assistance is to be expected from you. I
hope God may convert you during this Lent, and that you also may wish
to be Christians’ (1471). But more serious affairs ensued. Galeazzo
Maria Sforza, of whom more will be said presently, tried to use his
familiarity with Lorenzo to obtain his assistance in a treacherous
attack on the lord of Piombino, and it is not to Lorenzo’s honour
that he consented to give it. The intrigue failed, but it created
discontent both at Naples and at Venice. The intimacy between the
Duke of Milan and the Medici continued. In the month of March 1471,
Galeazzo Maria paid a visit to his Florentine friends. He was in
every way dissimilar to his father, who had been fully acquainted with
the serious side of life before attaining to sovereignty over a large
city. As he was of a coarse sensual nature, and regarded neither right
nor law where it concerned the gratification of his desires, so he
also showed a childish love of pomp and splendour, even far beyond his
means and those of his country, although he oppressed the inhabitants
with taxes. However much we must guard ourselves in judging of the
luxury and expenses of former days, from giving implicit faith to the
complaints of contemporaries (the Milanese complained, for instance,
of the heavy burden laid upon them by the paving of the streets),
yet the details which we possess respecting Galeazzo Maria’s and his
consort’s journey to Florence, show that all reasonable measure was
exceeded. Never had Florence witnessed similar pomp. The duke’s suite
was endless. Vassals and councillors accompanied him, all clothed in
gold and silver cloth, and with numerous servants, the courtiers in
velvet and brocade, the chamberlains in rich embroidery, forty of them
with gold chains of honour, the least of which was worth a hundred
gold florins. Fifty grooms appeared in costumes of cloth of silver,
partly of silk brocade; even the kitchen-boys glittered in velvet and
silk; fifty war-horses with saddles of gold brocade, gilded stirrups
and silk embroidered bridles, each one led by a groom in rich livery
with the Sforza-Visconti arms on his doublet. The guard was formed of
a hundred heavily-armed knights, each with the rank of captain, and
500 select foot. No less splendid was the suite of the Duchess Bona.
Fifty palfreys with gold and silver saddles and trappings were led by
richly clad pages; twelve transport waggons, with coverings of gold
brocade, adorned with coats-of-arms, contained mattresses and cushions
covered with crimson silk and gold embroidery, and were brought over
the mountains by mules. The entire suite needed 2,000 horses and 200
mules, whose drivers wore new liveries. On all sides only gold and
silver cloth, velvet and silk, were to be seen. The ducal party
was followed by a numerous troop of hunters, with dogs, falcons,
sparrowhawks, forty trumpeters and pipers, musicians and merrymakers.
The cost of the equipment was calculated at 200,000 gold florins. No
emperor had travelled as did the son of a condottiere of Romagna, who
called himself duke of the Imperial fief of Milan, in defiance of the
powerless emperor and empire.
When the procession approached the Porta San Gallo—it was on March
15—many distinguished men and youths went to meet it, accompanied by
various bands of young men in various costumes, with women and maidens
singing songs in praise of the eminent guests. The duke rode in front,
the duchess slightly behind him, and on they went through the crowded
and decorated streets to the square of the Signoria, who awaited them
at the Ringhiera, in company with many illustrious citizens. When the
duke drew near he dismounted, while his consort did the same, and the
Signori, the Gonfaloniere, Gino Capponi, Neri’s son at their head, came
to meet him, and all gave one another their hand. The Gonfaloniere said
a few words bidding them welcome, which Galeazzo Maria answered, upon
which the ducal pair mounted again, and the Signori returned to the
palace. The new-comers now rode to the church of the Annunziata, to
perform their devotions in the chapel built by Piero de’ Medici, and
from thence by the square of San Marco to Via Larga, where they were
lodged in the house of the Medici. They had chosen to reside here,
while their suite was provided for in the city, and entertained at the
public cost, which was no trifle. Whatever splendour Sforza might be
accustomed to, he was yet astonished at the immense wealth of the house
where he lodged—at the number of paintings, sculptures, antiques,
and the large and rare vases and other objects of precious kinds of
stone, partly from distant countries, at the medals, carved stones,
jewels, rare and rich manuscripts—in short, at a quantity of things
he had never seen before in such abundance, as he confessed. Everyone
flocked to do the guests honour, and as Galeazzo Maria showed himself
friendly and conciliating, displayed great liberality, remembering the
long-standing connection of his father with the city and the Medici,
and had enjoined his followers to avoid everything which could excite
displeasure, affairs went off to the general satisfaction.
On the day after his arrival the duke made a visit of ceremony to the
Signoria, accompanied by many distinguished citizens, after having
announced himself, and expressed the wish to meet the most illustrious
men of the State. The Signori went across the Piazza to meet him,
and escorted him into the festively decorated council-hall, where
all took their places, Galeazzo Maria beside the Gonfaloniere. The
Duke now spoke in detail of recent events, explained and justified
his conduct at and after the conclusion of the general confederacy,
offered to maintain the number of troops for the Republic which she
had bound herself to keep up, and declared his readiness to go with
the Florentine people in everything. On the following day the Signori
repaired with him to the house of the Medici. The exclusiveness
imposed upon the members of the highest magistracy during their term
of office did not hold good in such cases. To celebrate the visit the
city caused three sacred dramas to be acted in churches. In San Felice
the Annunciation was given, in Carmine the Ascension, and in Sto.
Spirito the Descent of the Holy Ghost. Unfortunately, fire broke out
during the last festival, which seriously injured the interior of the
beautiful church, and necessitated a restoration, for which the duke
expended two thousand gold florins. The visit of the Milanese prince
and the Florentine festivals were much spoken of at foreign courts;
Giovanni Bentivoglio and the lords of Romagna were expected, but did
not appear. The duke and duchess, after eight days’ residence, left
the city and the hospitable house with gratitude and affectionate
remembrance, and went to Lucca, where they were also received with
rejoicing. The Lucchesi actually made a new gate in the city wall,
in eternal commemoration of so great an event! Sforza’s all-powerful
private secretary, Cecco Simonetta, received the right of citizenship.
It was very important to the little Republic to remain on good terms
with the son of the man to whom they owed perhaps the maintenance of
their existence as a state, and they had willingly taken part in the
new confederacies. The ducal pair returned to Milan by Genoa.[188]
For the sake of contrast, after the extravagant pomp of a duke
belonging to a family which had just arisen, may be mentioned the
simplicity with which a Northern sovereign appeared in Florence three
years later, by no means to his prejudice in the eyes of reasonable
men. It was King Christiern,[189] with whom, in 1449, the house of
Oldenburg ascended the Danish-Norwegian throne. The wars for Sweden,
which had withdrawn from the Colmar union of the three kingdoms, the
difficulties with the dukedoms of Schleswig and Holstein, which he did
not succeed in uniting to the Danish throne, and the disputes with
the Hanseatic League, which had the trade of Norway in its hands, had
preyed upon the king’s strength and courage, when at the age of fifty
he resolved upon a pilgrimage to Jerusalem. Through Spain, where he
had visited the shrine of San Jago di Compostella, and Milan, where he
had been entertained by the Duke Galeazzo Maria, he reached Florence
on the afternoon of March 29, 1474. His suite consisted of about a
hundred and forty riders, mostly noblemen and prelates, with but
little baggage; he had accomplished a considerable part of the way
on foot. At the gate of San Gallo he was met by the Signoria, with
the Gonfaloniere, Donato Acciaiuoli, at their head, as was the custom
with crowned heads; but the king would not advance under the canopy
offered him, nor enter the city before the magistrates and government
had returned to their palace. He also refused a guard of honour as he
rode through the streets. On the following day he inspected the city,
paid a visit to the Signoria, and begged to be allowed to see the Greek
manuscript of the Gospels, which had been brought from Constantinople,
and the Codex of Pandects preserved at Pisa. He regarded these books
with veneration, and said these were the true treasures for princes,
which was thought to be an allusion to the extravagant splendour at
the court of Galeazzo Maria. Christiern was a grave man, with a long
grey beard, and his whole bearing was calm and sensible. In Rome, where
Pope Sixtus presented him with the golden rose, and released him from
the vow of pilgrimage to the Holy Land, he remained for several weeks,
greatly honoured. On May 3 he came again to Florence, and was once more
received by the Signoria, but declined all ceremonies. In Sta. Maria
Novella, where he was lodged, the priors, with the Gonfaloniere, Maso
degli Albizzi, visited him. On the 6th he quitted the city, pleased
with the reception accorded to him here, and rode to Bologna over the
Apennines. One result of his residence at Rome was the founding of the
University of Copenhagen, for which he had obtained Papal privileges.
There is no mention of a meeting between the king and the Medici in the
records of the time.
How the Medici stood in relation to the lords of Bologna we have
already seen. Giovanni Bentivoglio, who held a similar position to that
of Lorenzo, not only shared his preference for domestic splendour, but
surpassed him in his love of tournaments and festal processions; and if
these are not so celebrated as those of Florence, it was not because
they were less splendid. It was because the blind poet, Francesco, a
Florentine residing in Cento, who celebrated the tournament at Bologna,
in 1470, in 200 stanzas, which unite Madonna and the saints with Mars
and Minerva, was neither a Pulci nor a Politian. As well as the Varani
and the Aragonese, the poet of the Morgante counted also Bentivoglio
among his patrons, and was repeatedly with him from 1473 to 1475.
Lorenzo seems by no means to have been always on friendly terms with
his Bolognese friend. Pulci was once charged to declare to the latter
that he (Lorenzo) would do all that lay in his power for him, but could
not prevent his being himself censured in Rome as well as Florence, as
the city had always been jealous of her freedom.[190] This probably
referred to a vexatious circumstance in Bologna, in which Bentivoglio
had come out rather too arrogantly as an arbitrary ruler.
The most telling proof of the princely esteem which Lorenzo enjoyed,
even in his youthful years, was afforded by the mediation sought by
King Louis XI. respecting the marriage of the Dauphin. Louis d’Amboise,
the king’s councillor, and later Bishop d’Albi, brother of the
Cardinal-Archbishop of Rouen, who was all-powerful under Louis XII.,
and even believed the dignity of pope to be within his grasp, had
been in Florence on his return from Rome, and seems to have described
Lorenzo’s position—it was after the events which will be alluded to
presently—in the most glowing colours. On June 19, 1473, the king
addressed a remarkable letter from Amboise to the Florentine. He had
heard, he writes, that King Ferrante intended to marry his eldest
daughter to the young Duke of Savoy, under guarantee of a dowry of
300,000 ducats. It seemed to him, however, more suitable to mutual
interests that an alliance between the princess and his son, the
Dauphin of Vienne, should be brought about. The amount of the dowry
might be fixed by Lorenzo, in case Ferrante should be at all inclined
to accede to the proposal. The family connection should go hand in hand
with a political league; friends and foes should be common to both
monarchs. The Neapolitan king would be aided by the league against the
house of Anjou; he, Louis, against the ruler of Aragon. If Lorenzo
would take the matter in hand, let him send a confidential messenger
to France, to consult with himself about the matter, to the exclusion
of all princes of the blood and other distinguished men, while royal
ambassadors would proceed to Florence. Ferrante’s answer to Lorenzo,
dated August 9, from Castel Nuovo at Naples, was a decided refusal.
He recognised with due appreciation the good intention of Medici, as
he esteemed the advantage and honour which would arise to him and his
house from a connection with the most powerful king of the world. The
conditions, however, he added, were contrary to his honour. Neither
against his uncle of Aragon nor his ally the Duke of Burgundy would
he ever act, and respecting Anjou, King Louis must judge himself what
chastisement he had to inflict on one who was his own enemy. He was
not to take it ill that he, Ferrante, was determined to preserve his
honour and knightly word as well as the best of his family, instead
of drawing distrust and contempt upon himself. He ought to be content
with his beautiful kingdom, and thank God that it was at peace,
instead of longing for the possessions of others. If Lorenzo could
make more honourable conditions, acceptable to the king, he would be
well inclined to accede to such.[191] The affair went no farther. By
Louis XI. the proposal could hardly have been seriously intended, but
was only a feeler. That he exposed himself, however, to such sharp
observations as those of the Neapolitan might excite surprise, were
it not that the language adopted in the diplomatic writings of the
time, and the communications of princes with one another, was not
particularly measured or courteous.
While foreign rulers had such intercourse with Lorenzo, his
fellow-citizens did not yield to strangers in the honours they showed
to him. They were accustomed to the pre-eminence which he and his
house assumed. In December 1470, the Commune determined to bestow the
dignity of knighthood for services to the State on the Gonfaloniere, at
that time Bongianni Gianfigliazzi, an elderly man, of an illustrious
and rich family, whose houses, near the bridge of Sta. Trinità,
enclosed the church of the same name on both sides; and Lorenzo was
chosen, notwithstanding his youth, as syndic of the people, according
to custom, to perform the ceremony, which was usually done either
by princes of reigning houses or by wise and distinguished men who
were themselves knights. When the same distinction had been shown the
year before to the retiring Gonfaloniere, Jacopo de’ Pazzi, uncle of
Lorenzo’s brother-in-law, Tommaso Soderini, upon whom Pope Paul II.
had conferred this dignity, represented the Commune, and the ceremony
took place in the Baptistery, on a scaffolding built over the great
font, well known from Dante’s time downwards. House and villas were
always full of guests. Lorenzo divided his time between his residences
in the city and the country, especially Careggi and Cafaggiuolo, which
was the most agreeable residence in the hot summer on account of its
high situation and shady woods. In Piero’s lifetime we already find him
and his brother in the grey mountain convents, whose natural beauty
was enhanced by the historical reminiscences of the founders of Holy
Orders—in Vallombrosa on the Pratomagno, the foundation of St. John
Gualbert; and in Camaldoli in the Casentino, which St. Romualdo of
Ravenna founded in the days of the Emperor Otto III. and Henry II. Of
the visit of the last-mentioned a literary trace has remained in the
Camaldulensian conversations of Cristoforo Landino.
It is unnecessary to say that the members of his family shared in the
honours shown to him. In the spring of 1472 Madonna Clarice visited her
Roman relations, and among her escort was Luigi Pulci, who had also
resided in Umbria shortly before. One of his letters to Lorenzo[192]
describes most delightfully the visit which Clarice made in May at
Fuligno to the daughter of the despot of Morea, Zoe Palæologus. This
man’s father, Thomas, a brother of the last Greek emperor, after
unhappy quarrels in his own family, not silenced by the threatened
danger from the Turks, had lost his possessions to Mohammed II. In the
spring of 1461 he came to Rome, where a tabernacle, with the statue of
the Apostle Andrew, in the vicinity of the Milvian bridge, indicates
the spot on which Cardinal Bessarion, in the name of Pope Pius II.,
received the head of the saint from his hands. Thomas died four years
later at Rome, where his three children were educated under Bessarion’s
superintendence, as their mother, Caterina Centurione, of a Genoese
family transplanted to the Levant, had died before him. There was
abundant opportunity in Italy of becoming acquainted with distinguished
Levanters; and yet their appearance and demeanour always appeared
singular to the Italians, as is shown, among others, by Pope Pius II.’s
description of Charlotte of Lusignan, who yet appears to have been very
much Europeanised in comparison to the Princess Palæologus. ‘I saw a
mountain of fat before me,’ writes Pulci. ‘Never should I have thought
that there was the like in Germany or Sardinia. Her two eyes might do
duty for four, and a little mouth lay between fat red cheeks.’ The
figure was equally striking to our Florentine. This Oriental beauty
married not long afterwards a Muscovite grand duke, who promised to
reconquer the Morea for her brothers, one of whom died in Rome, and the
other escaped from the executioners of his imperial uncle. A few days
later Pulci wrote from Rome as follows: ‘We have spent some time at
Monterotondo, where we were truly received most brilliantly. Yesterday
(June 5) we arrived at Rome with about eighty horses. Our Madonna
Clarice has done you honour everywhere, and has not herself been
neglected. I go in two days to the frontiers, and then back to you.
The residence of your wife here will be short, for there is no wedding
taking place just now, and the little Lucrezia and Pierino are strong
magnets for their mother.’
The health of Lorenzo’s mother made repeated journeys to baths
necessary, which seem to have led her mostly, if not always, to the
Bagno a Morba. She carried on a constant correspondence with her son,
and her letters to him show equally her sincere affection and a certain
deference to the head of the family and the State. In June 1477, she
wrote from Bagno,[193] which she had reached not without difficulty
on account of the badness of the roads. ‘Hail to you, my dearest son
(Salvus sis mi suavissime fili)! To-day the letter written in your
name has reached me; and it has been a joy and consolation to me to
learn that you are well, and, with you, your whole family, for which
God be praised. With the greatest satisfaction I received the news of
the betrothal of Cosimino Rucellai with the daughter of the Marchese
Gabriello, which was for me most unexpected news, fresh as the coin
from the mint.[194] I think it is a happy event, the result of which
will justify the good beginning, and which we will celebrate here
joyfully with the whole society of the place. God give His blessing!
Now to other matters: I am well, Heaven be praised, and the baths are
doing me good. If God will, I purpose setting out on the 21st inst.
and passing the night at Madame Tita’s, the widow of Martino Cortesi,
at San Gemignano. She stayed here several days in order to beg me to
do so, and then sent her son, who has gone away early this morning,
to obtain my certain promise, which I could not refuse to repeated
requests, and, as she is a wife and widow, without offending you. So we
have agreed to make a short stay without ceremonies, in order to be in
Florence on Monday, the eve of the feast of St. John. I shall not come
before, because I am rather weak and languid from the bath. Should it
be necessary, however, for me to come earlier, tell me so, and I will
leave all else. Send me the horses when you like, so that they arrive
here on the 19th, and may rest on the 20th, as we think of setting out
on the 21st, as I have said. We need seven horses; nothing else. I
commend myself to you.—In haste, on June 9, LUCREZIA, in the Bagno a
Morba.’
Cosimo’s widow lived in the house of her grandson till the autumn of
1473. Luigi Pulci, who had been to Bologna on an errand for Lorenzo,
wrote from Florence, to Madonna Lucrezia at Careggi, on October
26,[195] ‘I have returned and found our Madonna Contessina no more.
This grieved me much. Would that I had at least been permitted to
see her once more! I pray God to receive her soul to His mercy, and
preserve those left, whom I enjoin to submit with patience.’ How much
this woman had seen in the fifty-nine years since Cosimo de’ Medici,
her husband, had accompanied Pope John XXIII. to the Council of
Constance!