_From Fra Girolamo to Duke Cosimo_
"Vedendo lo omnipotente Dio multiplicare li peccati della Italia,
maxime nelli capi cosi ecclesiastici come seculari, non potendo
piu sostenere, determino purgare la Chiesa sua per uno gran
flagello. Et perche come e scripto in Amos propheta, Non faciet
Dominus Deus verbum nisi revelaverit secretum suum ad servos suos
prophetas: volse per la salute delli suoi electi accio che inanzi
al flagello si preparassino ad sofferire, che nella Italia questo
flagello fussi prenuntiato. Et essendo Firenze in mezzo la Italia
come il core in mezzo il corpo, s'e dignato di eleggere questa
citta; nella quale siano tale cose prenuntiate: accio che per lei
si sparghino negli altri luoghi."--_Savonarola._
_Gladius Domini super terram cito et velociter_, "the Sword of the
Lord upon the earth soon and speedily." These words rang ever in the
ears of the Dominican friar who was now to eclipse the Medicean rulers
of Florence. Girolamo Savonarola, the grandson of a famous Paduan
physician who had settled at the court of Ferrara, had entered the
order of St Dominic at Bologna in 1474, moved by the great misery of
the world and the wickedness of men, and in 1481 had been sent to the
convent of San Marco at Florence. The corruption of the Church, the
vicious lives of her chief pastors, the growing immorality of the
people, the tyranny and oppression of their rulers, had entered into
his very soul--had found utterance in allegorical poetry, in an ode
_De Ruina Mundi_, written whilst still in the world, in another, _De
Ruina Ecclesiae_, composed in the silence of his Bolognese
cloister--that cloister which, in better days, had been hallowed by
the presence of St Dominic and the Angelical Doctor, Thomas Aquinas.
And he believed himself set by God as a watchman in the centre of
Italy, to announce to the people and princes that the sword was to
fall upon them: "If the sword come, and thou hast not announced it,"
said the spirit voice that spoke to him in the silence as the daemon to
Socrates, "and they perish unwarned, I will require their blood at thy
hands and thou shalt bear the penalty."
But at first the Florentines would not hear him; the gay dancings and
the wild carnival songs of their rulers drowned his voice; courtly
preachers like the Augustinian of Santo Spirito, Fra Mariano da
Gennazano, laid more flattering unction to their souls. Other cities
were more ready; San Gemignano first heard the word of prophecy that
was soon to resound beneath the dome of Santa Maria del Fiore, even
as, some two hundred years before, she had listened to the speech of
Dante Alighieri. At the beginning of 1490, the Friar returned to
Florence and San Marco; and, on Sunday, August 1st, expounding the
Apocalypse in the Church of San Marco, he first set forth to the
Florentines the three cardinal points of his doctrine; first, the
Church was to be renovated; secondly, before this renovation, God
would send a great scourge upon all Italy; thirdly, these things would
come speedily. He preached the following Lent in the Duomo; and
thenceforth his great work of reforming Florence, and announcing the
impending judgments of God, went on its inspired way. "Go to Lorenzo
dei Medici," he said to the five citizens who came to him, at the
Magnifico's instigation, to urge him to let the future alone in his
sermons, "and bid him do penance for his sins, for God intends to
punish him and his"; and when elected Prior of San Marco in this same
year, 1491, he would neither enter Lorenzo's palace to salute the
patron of the convent, nor welcome him when he walked among the friars
in the garden.
Fra Girolamo was preaching the Lent in San Lorenzo, when the Magnifico
died; and, a few days later, he saw a wondrous vision, as he himself
tells us in the _Compendium Revelationum_. "In 1492," he says, "while
I was preaching the Lent in San Lorenzo at Florence, I saw, on the
night of Good Friday, two crosses. First, a black cross in the midst
of Rome, whereof the head touched the heaven and the arms stretched
forth over all the earth; and above it were written these words, _Crux
irae Dei_. After I had beheld it, suddenly I saw the sky grow dark,
and clouds fly through the air; winds, flashes of lightning and
thunderbolts drove across, hail, fire and swords rained down, and slew
a vast multitude of folk, so that few remained on the earth. And after
this, there came a sky right calm and bright, and I saw another cross,
of the same greatness as the first but of gold, rise up over
Jerusalem; the which was so resplendent that it illumined all the
world, and filled it all with flowers and joy; and above it was
written, _Crux misericordiae Dei_. And I saw all generations of men
and women come from all parts of the world, to adore it and embrace
it."
In the following August came the simoniacal election of Roderigo
Borgia to the Papacy, as Alexander VI.; and in Advent another vision
appeared to the prophet in his cell, which can only be told in Fra
Girolamo's own words:--
"I saw then in the year 1492, the night before the last sermon which I
gave that Advent in Santa Reparata, a hand in Heaven with a sword,
upon the which was written: _The sword of the Lord upon the earth,
soon and speedily_; and over the hand was written, _True and just are
the judgments of the Lord._ And it seemed that the arm of that hand
proceeded from three faces in one light, of which the first said: _The
iniquity of my sanctuary crieth to me from the earth._ The second
replied: _Therefore will I visit with a rod their iniquities, and with
stripes their sins._ The third said: _My mercy will I not remove from
it, nor will I harm it in my truth, and I will have mercy upon the
poor and the needy._ In like manner the first answered: _My people
have forgotten my commandments days without number._ The second
replied: _Therefore will I grind and break in pieces and will not have
mercy._ The third said: _I will be mindful of those who walk in my
precepts._ And straightway there came a great voice from all the three
faces, over all the world, and it said: _Hearken, all ye dwellers on
the earth; thus saith the Lord: I, the Lord, am speaking in my holy
zeal. Behold, the days shall come and I will unsheath my sword upon
you. Be ye converted therefore unto me, before my fury be
accomplished; for when the destruction cometh, ye shall seek peace and
there shall be none._ After these words it seemed to me that I saw the
whole world, and that the Angels descended from Heaven to earth,
arrayed in white, with a multitude of spotless stoles on their
shoulders and red crosses in their hands; and they went through the
world, offering to each man a white robe and a cross. Some men
accepted them and robed themselves with them. Some would not accept
them, although they did not impede the others who accepted them.
Others would neither accept them nor permit that the others should
accept them; and these were the tepid and the sapient of this world,
who made mock of them and strove to persuade the contrary. After this,
the hand turned the sword down towards the earth; and suddenly it
seemed that all the air grew dark with clouds, and that it rained
down swords and hail with great thunder and lightning and fire; and
there came upon the earth pestilence and famine and great tribulation.
And I saw the Angels go through the midst of the people, and give to
those who had the white robe and the cross in their hands a clear wine
to drink; and they drank and said: _How sweet in our mouths are thy
words, O Lord._ And the dregs at the bottom of the chalice they gave
to drink to the others, and they would not drink; and it seemed that
these would fain have been converted to penitence and could not, and
they said: _Wherefore dost thou forget us, Lord?_ And they wished to
lift up their eyes and look up to God, but they could not, so weighed
down were they with tribulations; for they were as though drunk, and
it seemed that their hearts had left their breasts, and they went
seeking the lusts of this world and found them not. And they walked
like senseless beings without heart. After this was done, I heard a
very great voice from those three faces, which said: _Hear ye then the
word of the Lord: for this have I waited for you, that I may have
mercy upon you. Come ye therefore to me, for I am kind and merciful,
extending mercy to all who call upon me. But if you will not, I will
turn my eyes from you for ever._ And it turned then to the just, and
said: _But rejoice, ye just, and exult, for when my short anger shall
have passed, I will break the horns of sinners, and the horns of the
just shall be exalted._ And suddenly everything disappeared, and it
was said to me: _Son, if sinners had eyes, they would surely see how
grievous and hard is this pestilence, and how sharp the sword._"[20]
[20] This _Compendium of Revelations_ was, like the _Triumph of the
Cross_, published both in Latin and in Italian simultaneously. I have
rendered the above from the Italian version.
The French army, terrible beyond any that the Italians had seen, and
rendered even more terrible by the universal dread that filled all
men's minds at this moment, entered Italy. On September 9th, 1494,
Charles VIII. arrived at Asti, where he was received by Ludovico and
his court, while the Swiss sacked and massacred at Rapallo. Here was
the new Cyrus whom Savonarola had foretold, the leader chosen by God
to chastise Italy and reform the Church. While the vague terror
throughout the land was at its height, Savonarola, on September 21st,
ascended the pulpit of the Duomo, and poured forth so terrible a flood
of words on the text _Ecce ego adducam aquas diluvii super terram_,
that the densely packed audience were overwhelmed in agonised panic.
The bloodless mercenary conflicts of a century had reduced Italy to
helplessness; the Aragonese resistance collapsed, and, sacking and
slaughtering as they came, the French marched unopposed through
Lunigiana upon Tuscany. Piero dei Medici, who had favoured the
Aragonese in a half-hearted way, went to meet the French King,
surrendered Sarzana and Pietrasanta, the fortresses which his father
had won back for Florence, promised to cede Pisa and Leghorn, and made
an absolute submission. "Behold," cried Savonarola, a few days later,
"the sword has descended, the scourge has fallen, the prophecies are
being fulfilled; behold, it is the Lord who is leading on these
armies." And he bade the citizens fast and pray throughout the city:
it was for the sins of Italy and of Florence that these things had
happened; for the corruption of the Church, this tempest had arisen.
It was the republican hero, Piero Capponi, who now gave utterance to
the voice of the people. "Piero dei Medici," he said in the Council of
the Seventy called by the Signoria on November 4th, "is no longer fit
to rule the State: the Republic must provide for itself: the moment
has come to shake off this baby government." They prepared for
defence, but at the same time sent ambassadors to the "most Christian
King," and amongst these ambassadors was Savonarola. In the meantime
Piero dei Medici returned to Florence to find his government at an
end; the Signoria refused him admittance into the palace; the people
assailed him in the Piazza. He made a vain attempt to regain the State
by arms, but the despairing shouts of _Palle, Palle,_ which his
adherents and mercenaries raised, were drowned in the cries of _Popolo
e Liberta_, as the citizens, as in the old days of the Republic, heard
the great bell of the Palace tolling and saw the burghers once more in
arms. On the 9th of November Piero and Giuliano fled through the Porta
di San Gallo; the Cardinal Giovanni, who had shown more courage and
resource, soon followed, disguised as a friar. There was some pillage
done, but little bloodshed. The same day Pisa received the French
troops, and shook off the Florentine yoke--an example shortly followed
by other Tuscan cities. Florence had regained her liberty, but lost her
empire. But the King had listened to the words of Savonarola--words
preserved to us by the Friar himself in his _Compendium
Revelationum_--who had hailed him as the Minister of Christ, but
warned him sternly and fearlessly that, if he abused his power over
Florence, the strength which God had given him would be shattered.
On November 17th Charles, clad in black velvet with mantle of gold
brocade and splendidly mounted, rode into Florence, as though into a
conquered city, with lance levelled, through the Porta di San
Frediano. With him was that priestly Mars, the terrible Cardinal della
Rovere (afterwards Julius II.), now bent upon the deposition of
Alexander VI. as a simoniacal usurper; and he was followed by all the
gorgeous chivalry of France, with the fierce Swiss infantry, the light
Gascon skirmishers, the gigantic Scottish bowmen--_uomini bestiali_ as
the Florentines called them--in all about 12,000 men. The procession
swept through the gaily decked streets over the Ponte Vecchio, wound
round the Piazza della Signoria, and then round the Duomo, amidst
deafening cries of _Viva Francia_ from the enthusiastic people. But
when the King descended and entered the Cathedral, there was a sad
disillusion--_parve al popolo un poco diminuta la fama_, as the good
apothecary Luca Landucci tells us--for, when off his horse, he
appeared a most insignificant little man, almost deformed, and with an
idiotic expression of countenance, as his bust portrait in the
Bargello still shows. This was not quite the sort of Cyrus that they
had expected from Savonarola's discourses; but still, within and
without Santa Maria del Fiore, the thunderous shouts of _Viva Francia_
continued, until he was solemnly escorted to the Medicean palace which
had been prepared for his reception.
That night, and each following night during the French occupation,
Florence shone so with illuminations that it seemed mid-day; every day
was full of feasting and pageantry; but French and Florentines alike
were in arms. The royal "deliverer"--egged on by the ladies of Piero's
family and especially by Alfonsina, his young wife--talked of
restoring the Medici; the Swiss, rioting in the Borgo SS. Apostoli,
were severely handled by the populace, in a way that showed the King
that the Republic was not to be trifled with. On November 24th the
treaty was signed in the Medicean (now the Riccardi) palace, after a
scene never forgotten by the Florentines. Discontented with the amount
of the indemnity, the King exclaimed in a threatening voice, "I will
bid my trumpets sound" (_io faro dare nelle trombe_). Piero Capponi
thereupon snatched the treaty from the royal secretary, tore it in
half, and exclaiming, "And we will sound our bells" (_e noi faremo
dare nelle campane_), turned with his colleagues to leave the room.
Charles, who knew Capponi of old (he had been Florentine Ambassador in
France), had the good sense to laugh it off, and the Republic was
saved. There was to be an alliance between the Republic and the King,
who was henceforth to be called "Restorer and Protector of the Liberty
of Florence." He was to receive a substantial indemnity. Pisa and the
fortresses were for the present to be retained, but ultimately
restored; the decree against the Medici was to be revoked, but they
were still banished from Tuscany. But the King would not go. The
tension every day grew greater, until at last Savonarola sought the
royal presence, solemnly warned him that God's anger would fall upon
him if he lingered, and sent him on his way. On November 28th the
French left Florence, everyone, from Charles himself downwards,
shamelessly carrying off everything of value that they could lay hands
on, including the greater part of the treasures and rarities that
Cosimo and Lorenzo had collected.
It was now that all Florence turned to the voice that rang out from
the Convent of San Marco and the pulpit of the Duomo; and Savonarola
became, in some measure, the pilot of the State. Mainly through his
influence, the government was remodelled somewhat on the basis of the
Venetian constitution with modifications. The supreme authority was
vested in the _Greater Council_, which created the magistrates and
approved the laws; and it elected the _Council of Eighty_, with which
the Signoria was bound to consult, which, together with the Signoria
and the Colleges, made appointments and discussed matters which could
not be debated in the Greater Council. A law was also passed, known as
the "law of the six beans," which gave citizens the right of appeal
from the decisions of the Signoria or the sentences of the _Otto di
guardia e balia_ (who could condemn even to death by six votes or
"beans")--not to a special council to be chosen from the Greater
Council, as Savonarola wished, but to the Greater Council itself.
There was further a general amnesty proclaimed (March 1495). Finally,
since the time-honoured calling of parliaments had been a mere farce,
an excuse for masking revolution under the pretence of legality, and
was the only means left by which the Medici could constitutionally
have overthrown the new regime, it was ordained (August) that no
parliament should ever again be held under pain of death. "The only
purpose of parliament," said Savonarola, "is to snatch the sovereign
power from the hands of the people." So enthusiastic--to use no
harsher term--did the Friar show himself, that he declared from the
pulpit that, if ever the Signoria should sound the bell for a
parliament, their houses should be sacked, and that they themselves
might be hacked to pieces by the crowd without any sin being thereby
incurred; and that the Consiglio Maggiore was the work of God and not
of man, and that whoever should attempt to change this government
should for ever be accursed of the Lord. It was now that the Sala del
Maggior Consiglio was built by Cronaca in the Priors' Palace, to
accommodate this new government of the people; and the Signoria set up
in the middle of the court and at their gate the two bronze statues by
Donatello, which they took from Piero's palace--the _David_, an emblem
of the triumphant young republic that had overthrown the giant of
tyranny, the _Judith_ as a warning of the punishment that the State
would inflict upon whoso should attempt its restoration; _exemplum
salutis publicae cives posuere_, 1495, ran the new inscription put by
these stern theocratic republicans upon its base.
But in the meantime Charles had pursued his triumphant march, had
entered Rome, had conquered the kingdom of Naples almost without a
blow. Then fortune turned against him; Ludovico Sforza with the Pope
formed an Italian league, including Venice, with hope of Germany and
Spain, to expel the French from Italy--a league in which all but
Florence and Ferrara joined. Charles was now in full retreat to secure
his return to France, and was said to be marching on Florence with
Piero dei Medici in his company--no reformation of the Church
accomplished, no restoration of Pisa to his ally. The Florentines flew
to arms. But Savonarola imagined that he had had a special Vision of
the Lilies vouchsafed to him by the Blessed Virgin, which pointed to
an alliance with France and the reacquisition of Pisa.[21] He went
forth to meet the King at Poggibonsi, June 1495, overawed the fickle
monarch by his prophetic exhortation, and at least kept the French out
of Florence. A month later, the battle of Fornovo secured Charles'
retreat and occasioned (what was more important to posterity)
Mantegna's Madonna of the Victory. And of the lost cities and
fortresses, Leghorn alone was recovered.
[21] When Savonarola entered upon the political arena, his spiritual
sight was often terribly dimmed. The cause of Pisa against Florence
was every bit as righteous as that of the Florentines themselves
against the Medici.
But all that Savonarola had done, or was to do, in the political field
was but the means to an end--the reformation and purification of
Florence. It was to be a united and consecrated State, with Christ
alone for King, adorned with all triumphs of Christian art and sacred
poetry, a fire of spiritual felicity to Italy and all the earth. In
Lent and Advent especially, his voice sounded from the pulpit,
denouncing vice, showing the beauty of righteousness, the efficacy of
the sacraments, and interpreting the Prophets, with special reference
to the needs of his times. And for a while Florence seemed verily a
new city. For the wild licence of the Carnival, for the Pagan
pageantry that the Medicean princes had loved, for the sensual songs
that had once floated up from every street of the City of
Flowers--there were now bonfires of the vanities in the public
squares; holocausts of immoral books, indecent pictures, all that
ministered to luxury and wantonness (and much, too, that was very
precious!); there were processions in honour of Christ and His Mother,
there were new mystical lauds and hymns of divine love. A kind of
spiritual inebriation took possession of the people and their rulers
alike. Tonsured friars and grave citizens, with heads garlanded,
mingled with the children and danced like David before the Ark,
shouting, "_Viva Cristo e la Vergine Maria nostra regina._" They had
indeed, like the Apostle, become fools for Christ's sake. "It was a
holy time," writes good Luca Landucci, "but it was short. The wicked
have prevailed over the good. Praised be God that I saw that short
holy time. Wherefore I pray God that He may give it back to us, that
holy and pure living. It was indeed a blessed time." Above all, the
children of Florence were the Friar's chosen emissaries and agents in
the great work he had in hand; he organised them into bands, with
standard-bearers and officers like the time-honoured city companies
with their gonfaloniers, and sent them round the city to seize
vanities, forcibly to stop gambling, to collect alms for the poor, and
even to exercise a supervision over the ladies' dresses. _Ecco i
fanciugli del Frate_, was an instant signal for gamblers to take to
flight, and for the fair and frail ladies to be on their very best
behaviour. They proceeded with olive branches, like the children of
Jerusalem on the first Palm Sunday; they made the churches ring with
their hymns to the Madonna, and even harangued the Signoria on the
best method of reforming the morals of the citizens. "Out of the
mouths of babes and sucklings Thou hast perfected praise," quotes
Landucci: "I have written these things because they are true, and I
have seen them and have felt their sweetness, and some of my own
children were among these pure and blessed bands."[22]
[22] This Luca Landucci, whose diary we shall have occasion to quote
more than once, kept an apothecary's shop near the Strozzi Palace at
the Canto de' Tornaquinci. He was an ardent Piagnone, though he
wavered at times. He died in 1516, and was buried in Santa Maria
Novella.
But the holy time was short indeed. Factions were still only too much
alive. The _Bigi_ or _Palleschi_ were secretly ready to welcome the
Medici back; the _Arrabbiati_, the powerful section of the citizens
who, to some extent, held the traditions of the so-called _Ottimati_
or _nobili popolani_, whom the Medici had overthrown, were even more
bitter in their hatred to the _Frateschi_ or _Piagnoni_, as the
adherents of the Friar were called, though prepared to make common
cause with them on the least rumour of Piero dei Medici approaching
the walls. The _Compagnacci_, or "bad companions," dissolute young men
and evil livers, were banded together under Doffo Spini, and would
gladly have taken the life of the man who had curtailed their
opportunities for vice. And to these there were now added the open
hostility of Pope Alexander VI., and the secret machinations of his
worthy ally, the Duke of Milan. The Pope's hostility was at first
mainly political; he had no objection whatever to Savonarola reforming
faith and morals (so long as he did not ask Roderigo Borgia to reform
himself), but could not abide the Friar declaring that he had a
special mission from God and the Madonna to oppose the Italian league
against France. At the same time the Pope would undoubtedly have been
glad to see Piero dei Medici restored to power. But in the early part
of 1496, it became a war to the death between these two--the Prophet
of Righteousness and the Church's Caiaphas--a war which seemed at one
moment about to convulse all Christendom, but which ended in the
funeral pyre of the Piazza della Signoria.
On Ash Wednesday, February 17th, Fra Girolamo, amidst the vastest
audience that had yet flocked to hear his words, ascended once more
the pulpit of Santa Maria del Fiore. He commenced by a profession of
most absolute submission to the Church of Rome. "I have ever believed,
and do believe," he said, "all that is believed by the Holy Roman
Church, and have ever submitted, and do submit, myself to her.... I
rely only on Christ and on the decisions of the Church of Rome." But
this was a prelude to the famous series of sermons on Amos and
Zechariah which he preached throughout this Lent, and which was in
effect a superb and inspired denunciation of the wickedness of
Alexander and his Court, of the shameless corruption of the Papal
Curia and the Church generally, which had made Rome, for a while, the
sink of Christendom. Nearly two hundred years before, St Peter had
said the same thing to Dante in the Heaven of the Fixed Stars:--
"Quegli ch'usurpa in terra il loco mio,
il loco mio, il loco mio, che vaca
nella presenza del Figliuol di Dio,
fatto ha del cimitero mio cloaca
del sangue e della puzza, onde il perverso
che cadde di quassu, laggiu si placa."[23]
[23] "He who usurpeth upon earth my place, my place, my place, which
in the presence of the Son of God is vacant,
"hath made my burial-ground a conduit for that blood and filth,
whereby the apostate one who fell from here above, is soothed down
there below."--_Paradiso_ xxvii.
Wicksteed's Translation.
These were, perhaps, the most terrible of all Savonarola's sermons and
prophecies. Chastisement was to come upon Rome; she was to be girdled
with steel, put to the sword, consumed with fire. Italy was to be
ravaged with pestilence and famine; from all sides the barbarian
hordes would sweep down upon her. Let them fly from this corrupted
Rome, this new Babylon of confusion, and come to repentance. And for
himself, he asked and hoped for nothing but the lot of the martyrs,
when his work was done. These sermons echoed through all Europe; and
when the Friar, after a temporary absence at Prato, returned to the
pulpit in May with a new course of sermons on Ruth and Micah, he was
no less daring; as loudly as ever he rebuked the hideous corruption of
the times, the wickedness of the Roman Court, and announced the
scourge that was at hand:--
"I announce to thee, Italy and Rome, that the Lord will come forth out
of His place. He has awaited thee so long that He can wait no more. I
tell thee that God will draw forth the sword from the sheath; He will
send the foreign nations; He will come forth out of His clemency and
His mercy; and such bloodshed shall there be, so many deaths, such
cruelty, that thou shalt say: O Lord, Thou hast come forth out of Thy
place. Yea, the Lord shall come; He will come down and tread upon the
high places of the earth. I say to thee, Italy and Rome, that the Lord
will tread upon thee. I have bidden thee do penance; thou art worse
than ever. The feet of the Lord shall tread upon thee; His feet shall
be the horses, the armies of the foreign nations that shall trample
upon the great men of Italy; and soon shall priests, friars, bishops,
cardinals and great masters be trampled down....
"Trust not, Rome, in saying: Here we have the relics, here we have St
Peter and so many bodies of martyrs. God will not suffer such
iniquities! I warn thee that their blood cries up to Christ to come
and chastise thee."[24]
[24] Sermon on May 29th, 1496. In Villari and Casanova, _Scelte di
prediche e scritti di Fra Girolamo Savonarola_.
But, in the meanwhile, the state of Florence was dark and dismal in
the extreme. Pestilence and famine ravaged her streets; the war
against Pisa seemed more hopeless every day; Piero Capponi had fallen
in the field in September; and the forces of the League threatened her
with destruction, unless she deserted the French alliance. King
Charles showed no disposition to return; the Emperor Maximilian, with
the Venetian fleet, was blockading her sole remaining port of Leghorn.
A gleam of light came in October, when, at the very moment that the
miraculous Madonna of the Impruneta was being borne through the
streets in procession by the Piagnoni, a messenger brought the news
that reinforcements and provisions had reached Leghorn from
Marseilles; and it was followed in November by the dispersion of the
imperial fleet by a tempest. At the opening of 1497 a Signory devoted
to Savonarola, and headed by Francesco Valori as Gonfaloniere, was
elected; and the following carnival witnessed an even more emphatic
burning of the vanities in the great Piazza, while the sweet voices of
the "children of the Friar" seemed to rise louder and louder in
intercession and in praise. Savonarola was at this time living more
in seclusion, broken in health, and entirely engaged upon his great
theological treatise, the _Triumphus Crucis_; but in Lent he resumed
his pulpit crusade against the corruption of the Church, the
scandalous lives of her chief pastors, in a series of sermons on
Ezekiel; above all in one most tremendous discourse on the text: "And
in all thy abominations and thy fornications thou hast not remembered
the days of thy youth." In April, relying upon the election of a new
Signoria favourable to the Mediceans (and headed by Bernardo del Nero
as Gonfaloniere), Piero dei Medici--who had been leading a most
degraded life in Rome, and committing every turpitude imaginable--made
an attempt to surprise Florence, which merely resulted in a
contemptible fiasco. This threw the government into the hands of the
Arrabbiati, who hated Savonarola even more than the Palleschi did, and
who were intriguing with the Pope and the Duke of Milan. On Ascension
Day the Compagnacci raised a disgraceful riot in the Duomo,
interrupted Savonarola's sermon, and even attempted to take his life.
Then at last there came from Rome the long-expected bull of
excommunication, commencing, "We have heard from many persons worthy
of belief that a certain Fra Girolamo Savonarola, at this present said
to be vicar of San Marco in Florence, hath disseminated pernicious
doctrines to the scandal and great grief of simple souls." It was
published on June 18th in the Badia, the Annunziata, Santa Croce,
Santa Maria Novella, and Santo Spirito, with the usual solemn
ceremonies of ringing bells and dashing out of the lights--in the
last-named church, especially, the monks "did the cursing in the most
orgulist wise that might be done," as the compiler of the _Morte
Darthur_ would put it.
The Arrabbiati and Compagnacci were exultant, but the Signoria that
entered office in July seemed disposed to make Savonarola's cause
their own. A fresh plot was discovered to betray Florence to Piero dei
Medici, and five of the noblest citizens in the State--the aged
Bernardo del Nero, who had merely known of the plot and not divulged
it, but who had been privy to Piero's coming in April while
Gonfaloniere, among them--were beheaded in the courtyard of the
Bargello's palace, adjoining the Palazzo Vecchio. In this Savonarola
took no share; he was absorbed in tending those who were dying on all
sides from the plague and famine, and in making the final revision of
his _Triumph of the Cross_, which was to show to the Pope and all the
world how steadfastly he held to the faith of the Church of Rome.[25]
The execution of these conspirators caused great indignation among
many in the city. They had been refused the right of appeal to the
Consiglio Maggiore, and it was held that Fra Girolamo might have saved
them, had he so chosen, and that his ally, Francesco Valori, who had
relentlessly hounded them to their deaths, had been actuated mainly by
personal hatred of Bernardo del Nero.
[25] Professor Villari justly remarks that "Savonarola's attacks were
never directed in the slightest degree against the dogmas of the Roman
Church, but solely against those who corrupted them." The _Triumph of
the Cross_ was intended to do for the Renaissance what St Thomas
Aquinas had accomplished for the Middle Ages in his _Summa contra
Gentiles_. As this book is the fullest expression of Savonarola's
creed, it is much to be regretted that more than one of its English
translators have omitted some of its most characteristic and important
passages bearing upon Catholic practice and doctrine, without the
slightest indication that any such process of "expurgation" has been
carried out.
But Savonarola could not long keep silence, and in the following
February, 1498, on Septuagesima Sunday, he again ascended the pulpit
of the Duomo. Many of his adherents, Landucci tells us, kept away for
fear of the excommunication: "I was one of those who did not go
there." Not faith, but charity it is that justifies and perfects
man--such was the burden of the Friar's sermons now: if the Pope gives
commands which are contrary to charity, he is no instrument of the
Lord, but a broken tool. The excommunication is invalid, the Lord will
work a miracle through His servant when His time comes, and his only
prayer is that he may die in defence of the truth. On the last day of
the Carnival, after communicating his friars and a vast throng of the
laity, Savonarola addressed the people in the Piazza of San Marco,
and, holding on high the Host, prayed that Christ would send fire from
heaven upon him that should swallow him up into hell, if he were
deceiving himself, and if his words were not from God. There was a
more gorgeous burning of the Vanities than ever; but all during Lent
the unequal conflict went on, and the Friar began to talk of a future
Council. This was the last straw. An interdict would ruin the commerce
of Florence; and on the 17th of March the Signoria bowed before the
storm, and forbade Savonarola to preach again. On the following
morning, the third Sunday in Lent, he delivered his last sermon:--
"If I am deceived, Christ, Thou hast deceived me, Thou. Holy Trinity,
if I am deceived, Thou hast deceived me. Angels, if I am deceived, ye
have deceived me. Saints of Paradise, if I am deceived, ye have
deceived me. But all that God has said, or His angels or His saints
have said, is most true, and it is impossible that they should lie;
and, therefore, it is impossible that, when I repeat what they have
told me, I should lie. O Rome, do all that thou wilt, for I assure
thee of this, that the Lord is with me. O Rome, it is hard for thee to
kick against the pricks. Thou shalt be purified yet.... Italy, Italy,
the Lord is with me. Thou wilt not be able to do aught. Florence,
Florence, that is, ye evil citizens of Florence, arm yourselves as ye
will, ye shall be conquered this time, and ye shall not be able to
kick against the pricks, for the Lord is with me, as a strong
warrior." "Let us leave all to the Lord; He has been the Master of all
the Prophets, and of all the holy men. He is the Master who wieldeth
the hammer, and, when He hath used it for His purpose, putteth it not
back into the chest, but casteth it aside. So did He unto Jeremiah,
for when He had used him as much as He wished, He cast him aside and
had him stoned. So will it be also with this hammer; when He shall
have used it in His own way, He will cast it aside. Yea, we are
content, let the Lord's will be done; and by the more suffering that
shall be ours here below, so much the greater shall the crown be
hereafter, there on high."
"We will do with our prayers what we had to do with our preaching. O
Lord, I commend to Thee the good and the pure of heart; and I pray
Thee, look not at the negligence of the good, because human frailty is
great, yea, their frailty is great. Bless, Lord, the good and pure of
heart. Lord, I pray Thee that Thou delay no longer in fulfilling Thy
promises."
It was now, in the silence of his cell, that Savonarola prepared his
last move. He would appeal to the princes of Christendom--the Emperor,
Ferdinand and Isabella of Spain, Henry VII. of England, the King of
Hungary, and above all, that "most Christian King" Charles VIII. of
France--to summon a general council, depose the simoniacal usurper who
was polluting the chair of Peter, and reform the Church. He was
prepared to promise miracles from God to confirm his words. These
letters were written, but never sent; a preliminary message was
forwarded from trustworthy friends in Florence to influential persons
in each court to prepare them for what was coming; and the despatch
to the Florentine ambassador in France was intercepted by the agents
of the Duke of Milan. It was at once placed in the hands of Cardinal
Ascanio Sforza in Rome, and the end was now a matter of days. The
Signoria was hostile, and the famous ordeal by fire lit the
conflagration that freed the martyr and patriot. On Sunday, March
25th, the Franciscan Francesco da Puglia, preaching in Santa Croce and
denouncing Savonarola, challenged him to prove his doctrines by a
miracle, to pass unscathed through the fire. He was himself prepared
to enter the flames with him, or at least said that he was. Against
Savonarola's will his lieutenant, Fra Domenico, who had taken his
place in the pulpit, drew up a series of conclusions (epitomising
Savonarola's teaching and declaring the nullity of the excommunication),
and declared himself ready to enter the fire to prove their truth.
Huge was the delight of the Compagnacci at the prospect of such sport,
and the Signoria seized upon it as a chance of ending the matter once
for all. Whether the Franciscans were sincere, or whether it was a
mere plot to enable the Arrabbiati and Compagnacci to destroy
Savonarola, is still a matter of dispute. The Piagnoni were confident
in the coming triumph of their prophet; champions came forward from
both sides, professedly eager to enter the flames--although it was
muttered that the Compagnacci and their Doffo Spini had promised the
Franciscans that no harm should befall them. Savonarola misliked it,
but took every precaution that, if the ordeal really came off, there
should be no possibility of fraud or evasion. Of the amazing scene in
the Piazza on April 7th, I will speak in the following chapter;
suffice it to say here that it ended in a complete fiasco, and that
Savonarola and his friars would never have reached their convent
alive, but for the protection of the armed soldiery of the Signoria.
Hounded home under the showers of stones and filth from the infuriated
crowd, whose howls of execration echoed through San Marco, Fra
Girolamo had the _Te Deum_ sung, but knew in his heart that all was
lost. That very same day his Cyrus, the champion of his prophetic
dreams, Charles VIII. of France, was struck down by an apoplectic
stroke at Amboise; and, as though in judgment for his abandonment of
what the prophet had told him was the work of the Lord, breathed his
last in the utmost misery and ignominy.
The next morning, Palm Sunday, April 8th, Savonarola preached a very
short sermon in the church of San Marco, in which he offered himself
in sacrifice to God and was prepared to suffer death for his flock.
_Tanto fu sempre questo uomo simile a se stesso_, says Jacopo Nardi.
Hell had broken loose by the evening, and the Arrabbiati and
Compagnacci, stabbing and hewing as they came, surged round the church
and convent. In spite of Savonarola and Fra Domenico, the friars had
weapons and ammunition in their cells, and there was a small band of
devout laymen with them, prepared to hold by the prophet to the end.
From vespers till past midnight the attack and defence went on; in the
Piazza, in the church, and through the cloisters raged the fight,
while riot and murder wantoned through the streets of the city.
Francesco Valori, who had escaped from the convent in the hope of
bringing reinforcements, was brutally murdered before his own door.
The great bell of the convent tolled and tolled, animating both
besieged and besiegers to fresh efforts, but bringing no relief from
without. Savonarola, who had been prevented from following the
impulses of his heart and delivering himself up to the infernal crew
that thirsted for his blood in the Piazza, at last gathered his
friars round him before the Blessed Sacrament, in the great hall of
the Greek library, solemnly confirmed his doctrine, exhorted them to
embrace the Cross alone, and then, together with Fra Domenico, gave
himself into the hands of the forces of the Signoria. The entire
cloisters were already swarming with his exultant foes. "The work of
the Lord shall go forward without cease," he said, as the mace-bearers
bound him and Domenico, "my death will but hasten it on." Buffeted and
insulted by the Compagnacci and the populace, amidst the deafening
uproar, the two Dominicans were brought to the Palazzo Vecchio. It
seemed to the excited imaginations of the Piagnoni that the scenes of
the first Passiontide at Jerusalem were now being repeated in the
streets of fifteenth century Florence.
The Signoria had no intention of handing over their captives to Rome,
but appointed a commission of seventeen--including Doffo Spini and
several of Savonarola's bitterest foes--to conduct the examination of
the three friars. The third, Fra Silvestro, a weak and foolish
visionary, had hid himself on the fatal night, but had been given up
on the following day. Again and again were they most cruelly
tortured--but in all essentials, though ever and anon they wrung some
sort of agonised denial from his lips, Savonarola's testimony as to
his divine mission was unshaken. Fra Domenico, the lion-hearted soul
whom the children of Florence had loved, and to whom poets like
Poliziano had turned on their death-beds, was as heroic on the rack or
under the torment of the boot as he had been throughout his career.
Out of Fra Silvestro the examiners could naturally extort almost
anything they pleased. And a number of laymen and others, supposed to
have been in their counsels, were similarly "examined," and their
shrieks rang through the Bargello; but with little profit to the
Friar's foes. So they falsified the confessions, and read the
falsification aloud in the Sala del Maggior Consiglio, to the
bewilderment of all Savonarola's quondam disciples who were there. "We
had believed him to be a prophet," writes Landucci in his diary, "and
he confessed that he was not a prophet, and that he had not received
from God the things that he preached; and he confessed that many
things in his sermons were the contrary to what he had given us to
understand. And I was there when this process was read, whereat I was
astounded, stupified, and amazed. Grief pierced my soul, when I saw so
great an edifice fall to the ground, through being sadly based upon a
single lie. I expected Florence to be a new Jerusalem, whence should
proceed the laws and splendour and example of goodly living, and to
see the renovation of the Church, the conversion of the infidels and
the consolation of the good. And I heard the very contrary, and indeed
took the medicine: _In voluntate tua, Domine, omnia sunt posita._"
A packed election produced a new Signoria, crueller than the last.
They still refused to send the friars to Rome, but invited the Pope's
commissioners to Florence. These arrived on May 19th--the Dominican
General, Torriani, a well-intentioned man, and the future Cardinal
Romolino, a typical creature of the Borgias and a most infamous
fellow. It was said that they meant to put Savonarola to death, even
if he were a second St John the Baptist. The torture was renewed
without result; the three friars were sentenced to be hanged and then
burnt. Fra Domenico implored that he might be cast alive into the
fire, in order that he might suffer more grievous torments for Christ,
and desired only that the friars of Fiesole, of which convent he was
prior, might bury him in some lowly spot, and be loyal to the
teachings of Fra Girolamo. On the morning of May 23rd, Savonarola said
his last Mass in the Chapel of the Priors, and communicated his
companions. Then they were led out on to the Ringhiera overlooking the
Piazza, from which a temporary _palchetto_ ran out towards the centre
of the square to serve as scaffold. Here, the evening before, the
gallows had been erected, beam across beam; but a cry had arisen among
the crowd, _They are going to crucify him._ So it had been hacked
about, in order that it might not seem even remotely to resemble a
cross. But in spite of all their efforts, Jacopo Nardi tells us, that
gallows still seemed to represent the figure of the Cross.
[Illustration: THE DEATH OF SAVONAROLA
(From an old, but quite contemporary, representation)]
The guards of the Signoria kept back the crowds that pressed thicker
and thicker round the scaffold, most of them bitterly hostile to the
Friars and heaping every insult upon them. When Savonarola was
stripped of the habit of Saint Dominic, he said, "Holy dress, how much
did I long to wear thee; thou wast granted to me by the grace of God,
and to this day I have kept thee spotless. I do not now leave thee,
thou art taken from me." They were now degraded by the Bishop of
Vasona, who had loved Fra Girolamo in better days; then in the same
breath sentenced and absolved by Romolino, and finally condemned by
the Eight--or the seven of them who were present--as representing the
secular arm. The Bishop, in degrading Savonarola, stammered out:
_Separo te ab Ecclesia militante atque triumphante_; to which the
Friar calmly answered, in words which have become famous: _Militante,
non triumphante; hoc enim tuum non est._ Silvestro suffered first,
then Domenico. There was a pause before Savonarola followed; and in
the sudden silence, as he looked his last upon the people, a voice
cried: "Now, prophet, is the time for a miracle." And then another
voice: "Now can I burn the man who would have burnt me"; and a
ruffian, who had been waiting since dawn at the foot of the scaffold,
fired the pile before the executioner could descend from his ladder.
The bodies were burnt to ashes amidst the ferocious yells of the
populace, and thrown into the Arno from the Ponte Vecchio. "Many fell
from their faith," writes Landucci. A faithful few, including some
noble Florentine ladies, gathered up relics, in spite of the crowd and
the Signory, and collected what floated on the water. It was the vigil
of Ascension Day.
* * * * *
Savonarola's martyrdom ends the story of mediaeval Florence. The last
man of the Middle Ages--born out of his due time--had perished. A
portion of the prophecy was fulfilled at once. The people of Italy and
their rulers alike were trampled into the dust beneath the feet of the
foreigners--the Frenchmen, the Switzers, the Spaniards, the Germans.
The new King of France, Louis XII., who claimed both the Duchy of
Milan and the kingdom of the Two Sicilies, entered Milan in 1499; and,
after a brief restoration, Ludovico Sforza expiated his treasons by
being sold by the Swiss to a lingering life-in-death in a French
dungeon. The Spaniards followed; and in 1501 the troops of Ferdinand
the Catholic occupied Naples. Like the dragon and the lion in
Leonardo's drawing, Spain and France now fell upon each other for the
possession of the spoils of conquered Italy; the Emperor Maximilian
and Pope Julius II. joined in the fray; fresh hordes of Swiss poured
into Lombardy. The battle of Pavia in 1525 gave the final victory to
Spain; and, in 1527, the judgment foretold by Savonarola fell upon
Rome, when the Eternal City was devastated by the Spaniards and
Germans, nominally the armies of the Emperor Charles V. The treaty of
Cateau-Cambresis in 1559 finally forged the Austrian and Spanish
fetters with which Italy was henceforth bound.
The death of Savonarola did not materially alter the affairs of the
Republic. The Greater Council kept its hold upon the people and city,
and in 1502 Piero di Tommaso Soderini was elected Gonfaloniere for
life. The new head of the State was a sincere Republican and a genuine
whole-hearted patriot; a man of blameless life and noble character,
but simple-minded almost to a fault, and of abilities hardly more than
mediocre. Niccolo Machiavelli, who was born in 1469 and had entered
political life in 1498, shortly after Savonarola's death, as Secretary
to the Ten (the Dieci di Balia), was much employed by the Gonfaloniere
both in war and peace, especially on foreign legations; and, although
he sneered at Soderini after his death for his simplicity, he
co-operated faithfully and ably with him during his administration. It
was under Soderini that Machiavelli organised the Florentine militia.
Pisa was finally reconquered for Florence in 1509; and, although
Machiavelli cruelly told the Pisan envoys that the Florentines
required only their obedience, and cared nothing for their lives,
their property, nor their honour, the conquerors showed unusual
magnanimity and generosity in their triumph.
These last years of the Republic are very glorious in the history of
Florentine art. In 1498, just before the French entered Milan,
Leonardo da Vinci had finished his Last Supper for Ludovico Sforza; in
the same year, Michelangelo commenced his Pieta in Rome which is now
in St Peter's; in 1499, Baccio della Porta began a fresco of the Last
Judgment in Santa Maria Nuova, a fresco which, when he entered the
Dominican order at San Marco and became henceforth known as Fra
Bartolommeo, was finished by his friend, Mariotto Albertinelli. These
three works, though in very different degrees, represent the opening
of the Cinquecento in painting and sculpture. While Soderini ruled,
both Leonardo and Michelangelo were working in Florence, for the Sala
del Maggior Consiglio, and Michelangelo's gigantic David--the Republic
preparing to meet its foes--was finished in 1504. This was the epoch
in which Leonardo was studying those strange women of the Renaissance,
whose mysterious smiles and wonderful hair still live for us in his
drawings; and it was now that he painted here in Florence his Monna
Lisa, "the embodiment of the old fancy, the symbol of the modern
idea." At the close of 1504 the young Raphael came to Florence (as
Perugino had done before him), and his art henceforth shows how
profoundly he felt the Florentine influence. We know how he sketched
the newly finished David, studied Masaccio's frescoes, copied bits of
Leonardo's cartoon, was impressed by Bartolommeo's Last Judgment.
Although it was especially Leonardo that he took for a model, Raphael
found his most congenial friend and adviser in the artist friar of San
Marco; and there is a pleasant tradition that he was himself
influential in persuading Fra Bartolommeo to resume the brush.
Leonardo soon went off to serve King Francis I. in France; Pope Julius
summoned both Michelangelo and Raphael to Rome. These men were the
masters of the world in painting and sculpture, and cannot really be
confined to one school. Purely Florentine painting in the Cinquecento
now culminated in the work of Fra Bartolommeo (1475-1517) and Andrea
del Sarto (1486-1531), who had both been the pupils of Piero di
Cosimo, although they felt other and greater influences later. After
Angelico, Fra Bartolommeo is the most purely religious of all the
Florentine masters; and, with the solitary exception of Andrea del
Sarto, he is their only really great colourist. Two pictures of his at
Lucca--one in the Cathedral, the other now in the Palazzo
Pubblico--are among the greatest works of the Renaissance. In the
latter especially, "Our Lady of Mercy," he shows himself the heir in
painting of the traditions of Savonarola. Many of Bartolommeo's
altar-pieces have grown very black, and have lost much of their effect
by being removed from the churches for which they were painted; but
enough is left in Florence to show his greatness. With him was
associated that gay Bohemian and wild liver, Mariotto Albertinelli
(1474-1515), who deserted painting to become an innkeeper, and who
frequently worked in partnership with the friar. Andrea del Sarto, the
tailor's son who loved not wisely but too well, is the last of a noble
line of heroic craftsmen. Although his work lacks all inspiration, he
is one of the greatest of colourists. "Andrea del Sarto," writes Mr
Berenson, "approached, perhaps, as closely to a Giorgione or a Titian
as could a Florentine, ill at ease in the neighbourhood of Leonardo
and Michelangelo." He entirely belongs to these closing days of the
Republic; his earliest frescoes were painted during Soderini's
gonfalonierate; his latest just before the great siege.
In the Carnival of 1511 a wonderfully grim pageant was shown to the
Florentines, and it was ominous of coming events. It was known as the
_Carro della Morte_, and had been designed with much secrecy by Piero
di Cosimo. Drawn by buffaloes, a gigantic black chariot, all painted
over with dead men's bones and white crosses, slowly passed through
the streets. Upon the top of it, there stood a large figure of Death
with a scythe in her hand; all round her, on the chariot, were closed
coffins. When at intervals the Triumph paused, harsh and hoarse
trumpet-blasts sounded; the coffins opened, and horrible figures,
attired like skeletons, half issued forth. "We are dead," they sang,
"as you see. So shall we see you dead. Once we were even as you are,
soon shall you be as we." Before and after the chariot, rode a great
band of what seemed to be mounted deaths, on the sorriest steeds that
could be found. Each bore a great black banner with skull and
cross-bones upon it, and each ghastly cavalier was attended by four
skeletons with black torches. Ten black standards followed the
Triumph; and, as it slowly moved on, the whole procession chanted the
_Miserere_. Vasari tells us that this spectacle, which filled the city
with terror and wonder, was supposed to signify the return of the
Medici to Florence, which was to be "as it were, a resurrection from
death to life."
And, sure enough, in the following year the Spaniards under Raimondo
da Cardona fell upon Tuscany, and, after the horrible sack and
massacre of Prato, reinstated the Cardinal Giovanni dei Medici and
Giuliano in Florence--their elder brother, Piero, had been drowned in
the Garigliano eight years before. Piero Soderini went into exile, the
Greater Council was abolished, and, while the city was held by their
foreign troops, the Medici renewed the old pretence of summoning a
parliament to grant a balia to reform the State. At the beginning of
1513 two young disciples of Savonarola, Pietro Paolo Boscoli and
Agostino Capponi, resolved to imitate Brutus and Cassius, and to
liberate Florence by the death of the Cardinal and his brother. Their
plot was discovered, and they died on the scaffold. "Get this Brutus
out of my head for me," said Boscoli to Luca della Robbia, kinsman of
the great sculptor, "that I may meet my last end like a Christian";
and, to the Dominican friar who confessed him, he said, "Father, the
philosophers have taught me how to bear death manfully; do you help
me to bear it out of love for Christ." In this same year the Cardinal
Giovanni was elected Pope, and entered upon his splendid and
scandalous pontificate as Leo X. "Let us enjoy the Papacy," was his
maxim, "since God has given it to us."
Although Machiavelli was ready to serve the Medici, he had been
deprived of his posts at the restoration, imprisoned and tortured on
suspicion of being concerned in Boscoli's conspiracy, and now,
released in the amnesty granted by the newly elected Pope, was living
in poverty and enforced retirement at his villa near San Casciano. It
was now that he wrote his great books, the _Principe_ and the
_Discorsi sopra la prima deca di Tito Livio_. Florence was ruled by
the Pope's nephew, the younger Lorenzo, son of Piero by Alfonsina
Orsini. The government was practically what it had been under the
Magnificent, save that this new Lorenzo, who had married a French
princess, discarded the republican appearances which his grandfather
had maintained, and surrounded himself with courtiers and soldiers.
For him and for Giuliano, the Pope cherished designs of carving out
large princedoms in Italy; and Machiavelli, in dedicating his
_Principe_ first to Giuliano, who died in 1516, and then to Lorenzo,
probably dreamed that some such prince as he described might drive out
the foreigner and unify the nation. In his nobler moments Leo X., too,
seems to have aspired to establish the independence of Italy. When
Lorenzo died in 1519, leaving one daughter, who was afterwards to be
the notorious Queen of France, there was no direct legitimate male
descendant of Cosimo the elder left; and the Cardinal Giulio, son of
the elder Giuliano, governed Florence with considerable mildness, and
even seemed disposed to favour a genuine republican government, until
a plot against his life hardened his heart. It was to him that
Machiavelli, who was now to some extent received back into favour,
afterwards dedicated his _Istorie Fiorentine_. In 1523 the Cardinal
Giulio, in spite of his illegitimate birth, became Pope Clement VII.,
that most hapless of Pontiffs, whose reign was so surpassingly
disastrous to Italy. In Florence the Medici were now represented by
two young bastards, Ippolito and Alessandro, the reputed children of
the younger Giuliano and the younger Lorenzo respectively; while the
Cardinal Passerini misruled the State in the name of the Pope. But
more of the true Medicean spirit had passed into the person of a
woman, Clarice, the daughter of Piero (and therefore the sister of the
Duke Lorenzo), who was married to the younger Filippo Strozzi, and
could ill bear to see her house end in these two base-born lads. And
elsewhere in Italy Giovanni delle Bande Nere (as he was afterwards
called, from the mourning of his soldiers for his death) was winning
renown as a captain; he was the son of that Giovanni dei Medici with
whom Piero had quarrelled, by Caterina Sforza, the Lady of Forli, and
had married Maria Salviati, a grand-daughter of Lorenzo the
Magnificent. But the Pope would rather have lost Florence than that it
should fall into the hands of the younger line.
But the Florentine Republic was to have a more glorious sunset. In
1527, while the imperial troops sacked Rome, the Florentines for the
third time expelled the Medici and re-established the Republic, with
first Niccolo Capponi and then Francesco Carducci as Gonfaloniere. In
this sunset Machiavelli died; Andrea del Sarto painted the last great
Florentine fresco; Michelangelo returned to serve the State in her
hour of need. The voices of the Piagnoni were heard again from San
Marco, and Niccolo Capponi in the Greater Council carried a
resolution electing Jesus Christ king of Florence. But the plague fell
upon the city; and her liberty was the price of the reconciliation of
Pope and Emperor. From October 1529 until August 1530, their united
forces--first under the Prince of Orange and then under Ferrante
Gonzaga--beleaguered Florence. Francesco Ferrucci, the last hope of
the Republic, was defeated and slain by the imperialists near San
Marcello; and then, betrayed by her own infamous general Malatesta
Baglioni, the city capitulated on the understanding that, although the
form of the government was to be regulated and established by the
Emperor, her liberty was preserved. The sun had indeed set of the most
noble Republic in all history.
Alessandro dei Medici, the reputed son of Lorenzo by a mulatto woman,
was now made hereditary ruler of Florence by the Emperor, whose
illegitimate daughter he married, and by the Pope. For a time, the
Duke behaved with some decency; but after the death of Clement in
1534, he showed himself in his true light as a most abominable tyrant,
and would even have murdered Michelangelo, who had been working upon
the tombs of Giuliano and Lorenzo. "It was certainly by God's aid,"
writes Condivi, "that he happened to be away from Florence when
Clement died." Alessandro appears to have poisoned his kinsman, the
Cardinal Ippolito, the other illegitimate remnant of the elder
Medicean line, in whom he dreaded a possible rival. Associated with
him in his worst excesses was a legitimate scion of the younger branch
of the house, Lorenzino--the _Lorenzaccio_ of Alfred de Musset's
drama--who was the grandson of the Lorenzo di Pier Francesco mentioned
in the previous chapter.[26] On January 5th, 1537, this young man--a
reckless libertine, half scholar and half madman--stabbed the Duke
Alessandro to death with the aid of a bravo, and fled, only to find a
dishonourable grave some ten years later in Venice.
[26] See the Genealogical Table of the Medici.
[Illustration: THE DAWN
BY MICHELANGELO]
Florence now fell into the hands of the ablest and most ruthless of
all her rulers, Cosimo I. (the son of Giovanni delle Bande Nere), who
united Medicean craft with the brutality of the Sforzas, conquered
Siena, and became the first Grand Duke of Tuscany. At the opening of
his reign the Florentine exiles, headed by the Strozzi and by Baccio
Valori, attempted to recover the State, but were defeated by Cosimo's
mercenaries. Their leaders were relentlessly put to death; and Filippo
Strozzi, after prolonged torture, was either murdered in prison or
committed suicide. A word will be said presently, in chapter ix., on
Cosimo's descendants, the Medicean Grand Dukes who reigned in Tuscany
for two hundred years.
The older generation of artists had passed away with the Republic.
After the siege Michelangelo alone remained, compelled to labour upon
the Medicean tombs in San Lorenzo, which have become a monument, less
to the tyrants for whom he reared them, than to the _saeva indignatio_
of the great master himself at the downfall of his country. A madrigal
of his, written either in the days of Alessandro or at the beginning
of Cosimo's reign, expresses what was in his heart. Symonds renders
it:--
"Lady, for joy of lovers numberless
Thou wast created fair as angels are;
Sure God hath fallen asleep in heaven afar,
When one man calls the bliss of many his."
But the last days and last works of Michelangelo belong to the story
of Rome rather than to that of Florence. Jacopo Carucci da Pontormo
(1494-1557), who had been Andrea del Sarto's scholar, and whose
earlier works had been painted before the downfall of the Republic,
connects the earlier with the later Cinquecento; but of his work, as
of that of his pupil Angelo Bronzino (1502-1572), the portraits alone
have any significance for us now. Giorgio Vasari (1512-1574), although
painter and architect--the Uffizi and part of the Palazzo Vecchio are
his work--is chiefly famous for his delightful series of biographies of
the artists themselves. Benvenuto Cellini (1500-1571), that most piquant
of personalities, and the Fleming Giambologna or Giovanni da Bologna
(1524-1608), the master of the flying Mercury, are the last noteworthy
sculptors of the Florentine school. When Michelangelo--_Michel,
piu che mortale, Angel divino_, as Ariosto calls him--passed away on
February 18th, 1564, the Renaissance was over as far as Art was
concerned. And not in Art only. The dome of St Peter's, that was
slowly rising before Michelangelo's dying eyes, was a visible sign of
the new spirit that was moving within the Church itself, the spirit
that reformed the Church and purified the Papacy, and which brought
about the renovation of which Savonarola had prophesied.