CHAPTER V.

HOME AND FOREIGN AFFAIRS IN THE EARLY YEARS OF LORENZO’S GOVERNMENT.

‘ON the second day after my father’s death,’ so we read in Lorenzo

de’ Medici’s memoirs, ‘the most distinguished men of the State and of

the ruling party came to our house to express their condolence, and

at the same time to request me to undertake the conduct of affairs

in the city and government, as my father and grandfather had done.

As such a responsibility seemed too great for my inexperience (I was

only twenty-one), and involved so much labour and so many dangers,

I accepted it unwillingly and only for the sake of our friends and

fortune, for those who are shut out from political influence have a

bad position in Florence. Hitherto (the beginning of 1471) all has

succeeded to the general honour and satisfaction, not in consequence of

my wisdom, but by God’s grace and by reason of the wise measures of my

predecessors.’

These words show clearly how the matter stood, and justify the opinion

which Francesco Guicciardini[181] puts into the mouth of one of his

interlocutors. ‘The government of the Medici,’ says Bernardo del Nero,

‘was a party government, usurped by the party, preserved by tyranny,

neither violent nor cruel, except in a few cases in which they were

constrained by necessity, but founded upon the policy of favouring the

lower classes, uniting the interests of the stronger with their own

interests, and suppressing all who seemed inclined to go their own way.

As the power passed from father to son, the memory of ancient rivalry

and enmity lived on. The Medici had always more their private advantage

at heart than the general good. But as they had neither any position

nor Signoria abroad, their interest was generally one with that of the

commonwealth, whose glory and fame were likewise theirs. But even with

so keen-sighted a man as Lorenzo, such a position might easily lead to

errors, and we shall see what mistakes he did make in important cases

to the great disadvantage of the State, either by allowing himself to

be carried away by passion or by regarding only his personal position

and advantage, always under the pretext that his greatness and that of

his family was necessary to the common good.

Lorenzo had taken so large a share in the conduct of affairs in his

father’s last years, and displayed such capabilities, that we need

not be surprised if, after the authority of the Medici had been

acknowledged now for two generations, all eyes should have been

directed towards him, notwithstanding his youth, which excluded him

from offices of State. Without an understanding between the heads of

the party, however, he could not have been offered the responsible

position of which he has told us. Piero had, on his death-bed,

recommended his two sons to his brother-in-law, Tommaso Soderini, on

whose prudence and attachment he placed great reliance. Since Tommaso

had essentially contributed to save the cause of the Medici in the

conspiracy of 1466, he had been in constant activity. He had not been

able to persuade the Venetians to hinder Colleone’s proceedings, but,

as member of the magistracy of war, and during the fourth year that

he was elected Gonfaloniere in 1467, he had exercised a favourable

influence on the conduct of affairs, and honestly exerted himself

for the restoration of peace with Borso d’Este, first in Venice and

afterwards in Milan. The opinion of him was so high in Florence that

he could easily have raised himself to the leadership of the ruling

party. But whether it was that he would not betray the confidence

reposed in him, or that he was of opinion that the preservation of this

family in the position they had held now for thirty-five years was at

the same time the preservation of the peace and safety of the State at

home, as well as of its connections with foreign states, he abstained

from following Diotisalvi Neroni’s example. Immediately after Piero’s

death, on the evening of the day when he had been interred, Soderini

summoned to him all the distinguished citizens attached to the existing

government. More than six hundred, ‘the flower of the city,’ assembled

in the convent of Sant’Antonio, in the neighbourhood of Porta Faenza.

It was here determined to preserve unity and the present state of

affairs, and to leave Piero’s sons in their father’s position. ‘Messer

Tommaso Soderini,’ writes the Ferrarese ambassador, ‘took the word as

eldest, and explained how Piero had left his sons already grown up

and gifted with good judgment and intellect. Out of regard for their

predecessors, and especially Cosimo and Piero, who had always been

friends, protectors, and preservers of the commonwealth and benefactors

of the State, for which reason they had taken the first rank and

borne the whole weight of government wisely and with dignity, always

displaying courage and mature judgment, it seemed to him that they

should leave to Piero’s family and sons, notwithstanding their youth,

the honourable position which he himself and Cosimo had enjoyed. He

added that he saw the two no less considerate and desirous of winning

the good opinion of the commune, and of all the Florentine citizens,

than their grandfather and father. This was confirmed by three or four

of those present, by Messer Manno, son-in-law of Messer Luca Pitti,

who was not himself present, by Messer Giannozzo Pitti, and Domenico

Martelli. The last two remarked that a master and a head was needed to

give the casting-vote in public affairs.[182] The whole city,’ adds

Guicciardini, ‘agreed to this, chiefly through the exertions of Messer

Tommaso Soderini, who at that time enjoyed more authority than any

other citizen, and was, perhaps, the wisest of all. He thought that

Lorenzo, on account of his youth, and because he owed his position to

him, so to speak, would allow himself to be guided by him; in this,

however, he was mistaken.’[183]

That Lorenzo considered the favourable opinion of himself as by no

means sufficient to secure his authority, shows on the one hand how

he, young as he was, had sounded the unsteady basis on which the whole

fabric of the State rests in a commonwealth of this kind, and on the

other hand, how his thoughts were immediately directed to gaining a

position no longer dependent upon internal agitation, such as had

disturbed his grandfather’s administration and endangered the life of

his father. A report of the Ferrarese ambassador plainly shows how the

heads of the ruling party hoped to conduct affairs after Piero’s death.

‘They are agreed that the private affairs of the Signoria shall pass

through Lorenzo’s hands in the same manner as previously through those

of his father, for which purpose his friends will take care to procure

him credit and reputation from the beginning. They can easily do so,

for they have the government in their hands, and the ballot-boxes at

their disposal. Others with whom I have spoken are of a different

opinion, and think that within a few days all affairs will again be

disposed of in the palace (_i.e._ by the magistrates themselves).

If, however, they guide the bark rightly at the beginning, and while

they can influence the election of the magistrates, I believe they

will reach the desired haven, for the philosopher says, “Principium

est plus quam dimidium totius.”’ The ambassador was right; he could

not, however, foresee the measure of Lorenzo’s personal share in this

gradual change of a republican constitution into one that was guided

by the will of a single man. He had scarcely attained the head of the

State when he began the work which he brought to a termination ten

years later, after the violent storm which had threatened his life.

The deliberation of September 6, 1466, had placed the election of the

highest magistrates for ten years in the hands of electors appointed

by the Council of a Hundred. The heads of the party were accustomed to

decide upon the names of these electors in an extraordinary meeting,

and to lay them before the said council, which usually accepted them

without further scruple, since only those not unfavourable to the

party, even if they did not belong to its actual partizans, sat in

this council. Sometimes, however, it occurred that the candidates

were not all accepted, so that anxiety arose in the minds of Lorenzo

and his confidants lest electors disagreeable to them might some day

be appointed, and their influence over the Signoria and other high

magistrates be thus limited. This seemed serious to them. However

large, too, and constantly increasing an authority might be which

was independent of the responsible magistrates forming the fabric of

the State, the respect for forms was equally great, and is indeed a

characteristic feature of these Italian communes; and their endeavour

was to give to measures which gradually destroyed the spirit of the

constitution the appearance of legality. In the summer of 1470, the

Signoria, which was entirely subject to the Medici, made the first

attempt in this direction. They proposed to the Council of a Hundred

to form out of all the electors from the year 1434 who were still

living, forty in number, and five new ones, a College of Electors. From

this for the next sixteen years five might be annually drawn, with

power to appoint the Signori and Gonfaloniere out of the lists or

ballot-boxes containing the names of the citizens capable of office.

The opposition to a measure which would have placed forty-five tyrants

over the people was, however, so strong that the Signoria judged it

advisable to withdraw the proposal. Six months later, in January 1471,

something similar was, nevertheless, carried out. Instead of leaving

the electors to be appointed by the Council of a Hundred, the Signoria

sitting in July and August, together with the electors acting for the

current year, agreed that they should appoint the new ones, the Council

of a Hundred only confirm them, and a single voice above the half of

the members present should give the casting-vote, whereas a majority

of two-thirds of voices had previously been requisite. The same thing

happened in the following July, and when the votes were collected it

naturally followed that only the names of persons considered reliable

came upon the electing tickets, so that the threads of the whole

administration were more than ever confined to a few hands. Immediately

after Piero de’ Medici’s death, under the plausible pretext that the

war occasioned by the Malatesta affair was not yet at an end, an

extraordinary tax of 300,000 gold florins was levied, so that the

government was provided with funds for all emergencies.

‘By such measures,’ remarks Francesco Guicciardini, ‘Lorenzo de’

Medici began to gain firm footing in Florence. The prevailing party

strengthened itself, and he obtained influence and reputation. So he

began to wish to be lord and master. Instead of allowing himself to

be guided by others, he took care that Messer Tommaso and the others

who enjoyed high influence, and had a large number of relations to

support them, should not become too strong. Although he never refused

to send them on embassies, and confer on them the highest honours and

offices, he held them within bounds, frustrated their intentions in

several cases, and brought forward others who caused him no anxiety, as

at first Messer Bernardo Buongirolami and Antonio Pucci, afterwards

Messer Agnolo Niccolini, Bernardo del Nero, Pier Filippo Pandolfini,

&c. He was accustomed to say that if his father had done so, and

somewhat restrained Messer Diotisalvi and his companions, he would not

have been in danger of losing his position in 1466.’ Another measure

was taken with the evident intention of withdrawing the government

of the city by degrees from all other influences than those of the

Medici and their confidants. This time it concerned the lower classes,

as that just mentioned did the higher. On September 20, 1471, the

Balia appointed in July to superintend the new elections, reduced the

number of smaller guilds from fourteen to five, so that there should

be altogether only twelve guilds; but the property of the dissolved

corporations should serve to form a new credit-fund for the salaries of

the officials. But this measure, which had a wider significance than

people seemed inclined to attribute to it in the first moment, was

never carried into practice.[184]

When Piero died, foreign affairs were by no means secure. The dispute

about Rimini was not terminated. Pope Paul II. was extremely indignant

at the assistance which Florence and Naples had given his disobedient

vassal, and by means of which this vassal had been able to oppose him

successfully. He indulged in the most violent expressions against

the Medici, even before the assembled Consistorium. His rage against

Ferrante even led to action. The old quarrel between Rome and Naples on

account of the feudal relation injurious to both, but still legal, had

also come to an outbreak between Ferrante and Paul. The king did not

pay the tribute, and, when enjoined to do so, was always ready with one

excuse or another. Now it was the embarrassment into which troubles at

home had plunged him, now it was the expenses for the aid granted to

the Church in the contest with the restless counts of Anguillara. If

pressed, he answered by claiming Benevento and Terracina and places

in the Abruzzi, claims which were not always unfounded, in consequence

of the complicated and wavering connections of the empire with the

Church. At last, when all seemed to be peacefully settled, a quarrel

broke out between the Pope and the Orsini, on account of the rights

claimed by the latter over the Alum district of Tolfa, which Paul had

contested with force of arms, while the king defended them in like

manner. It went so far that Ferrante threatened to league himself with

the Turks; the Pope, however, answered him by not only threatening to

drive him from Naples, but by actually planning a new campaign against

the Aragonese with John of Anjou. This happened just after the affair

with Malatesta had ended, and who knows what intrigues would have been

begun, had not the war of the Catalans against the Aragonese, in which

Anjou commanded, occupied him till a higher hand interfered?

Under circumstances of this kind, the necessity of attaching themselves

as firmly as possible to Naples and Milan was made clear to the people

of Florence, and as long as Lorenzo lived this necessity always

remained uppermost with him, even through momentary fluctuations. The

conviction that no firm reliance was to be placed upon the two other

great powers of Italy, Venice and the Pope, made the Florentines regard

such an alliance as the salvation of Italy. Venice could not be trusted

because her thirst for Italian conquest was proportionate to the danger

of her Levantine possessions; nor the Pope, because the papal policy

changed with every new ruler, nay, it altered several times under the

same ruler. When the Pope, displeased with the Venetians, began to

lean towards reconciliation, these natural allies determined to agree

beforehand on the position to assume towards him. Plenipotentiaries

from Naples and Milan came in the spring of 1470 to Florence for this

purpose. But when difficulties arose, the consultation was transferred

to Naples, whither Otto Niccolini went on behalf of Florence. On

July 12 the news reached Florence that the alliance between the

three states was prolonged for fifteen years, reserving the power of

bringing about a general alliance of the Italian powers beside this

special one—a piece of news which was celebrated with festivals and

bonfires. It was indeed high time to unite. On the same July 12, the

Turks took Negroponte. The besiegers suffered severe losses, but they

avenged themselves by a fearful slaughter among the inhabitants and

the garrison, and the Venetians had to expiate heavily their neglect

in defending one of their most important fortresses. On August 7, they

heard of the sad event through an announcement of King Ferrante’s.

From all sides unity was now urged, in order to resist the formidable

enemy, before whom the whole Archipelago, the Ionian Sea, and the

entrance to the Adriatic, lay open. The Pope summoned an assembly of

plenipotentiaries of all the Italian States to Rome, while at the same

time he determined to compose the Malatesta contest by mediation. To

effect an understanding was, however, difficult, because the three

powers reserved their separate alliance, and Paul consented to this

very unwillingly. Nevertheless, the treaty was concluded at Rome on

December 22, express emphasis being laid on the article that the new

league should rest on the basis of that which had been agreed upon

at Venice at the end of August 1454, by the active mediation of Pope

Nicholas V., when the conquest of Constantinople had first brought the

threatened danger home to all. During the seventeen years which had

elapsed since then, affairs had only grown worse. The Pope, the King

of Naples, the Duke of Milan, the Republics of Venice and Florence,

and Borso of Este, to whom the title of Duke of Ferrara had not long

been granted, joined the alliance, which was to be extended over all

Christendom, for which purpose Paul II. appointed the Cardinal of

Siena, Francesco Todeschini Piccolomini, as legate to the Emperor and

Empire. Jacopo Guicciardini had concluded the treaty on the part of

Florence.

But this time also the result by no means corresponded to the general

expectation. Sforza did not ratify the treaty, because the purport of

the document did not suit his wishes in some important particulars.

Although the Signoria of Florence sent in their ratification,

Guicciardini suppressed it, because Lorenzo de’ Medici, who wished to

hold with Milan, had given him secret instructions not to sign, so

that things remained unsettled. In Germany and Hungary, where the Pope

and Venice placed their chief hopes on King Mathias Corvinus, it was

not much better. After the sanguinary Bohemian war, which the latter

had waged against George Podiebrad, had weakened their strength on

both sides, and the Turks, pressing on from Bosnia through Croatia

and Carniola, had already set foot on the soil of the empire, and

roused Emperor Frederick from his sleep, still nothing could be really

effected by the Ratisbon Congress in the spring of 1471. As the princes

here were dilatory and the towns disinclined for action, quarrels

began anew in Italy. Not to mention the contest between Pope and King,

disagreeable communications passed between the former and Florence. The

Florentines were willing indeed to furnish subsidies for the Turkish

war, but insisted upon including the clergy in the taxes, which the

Pope refused to permit.

While this was proceeding, Paul II. died in the night between July

25 and 26, not fifty-four years old, and apparently in the enjoyment

of perfect health. At a time when Christendom was everywhere torn by

factions and threatened from without, when Italy saw herself exposed

to the attacks of the infidels, as in the ninth century, the unity

of her states being always problematical, the election of a Pope was

of more importance than ever. Shortly before, several princes had

passed away who had exercised more or less influence on the course of

affairs—George Podiebrad, King of Bohemia, Borso of Este, John of

Anjou, who concluded a life more eventful than successful at Barcelona,

having only attained the age of forty-five years, and carrying with

him to the grave the hopes of his old father René, and of his house.

In him, a still numerous party in the south of Italy lost their head;

yet they could not make up their minds to give in their allegiance

decidedly to the Aragonese government, which seemed daily to grow

stronger by its activity, talents, and alliances.