← Table of ContentsLorenzo de' Medici, the Magnificent (vol. 1 of 2)

CHAPTER VI.

LORENZO DE’ MEDICI IN NAPLES. PEACE WITH THE KING AND WITH THE POPE.

ON the evening of December 10 two Neapolitan galleys arrived at the

little port of Vada, not far from the mouth of the Cecina in the Pisan

Maremma, having on board Gian Tommaso Caraffa, son of the Count of

Maddaloni, chief counsellor of the king, and Prinzivalle di Gennaro,

the confidant of the Duke of Calabria. On the following morning Lorenzo

entered Vada. ‘Pray God,’ he had written from Pisa to the Ferrarese

ambassador,[300] ‘I may journey there and back in safety, and my

purpose may be attained.’ On the afternoon of the 18th, a Saturday,

the galleys ran into the port of Naples. Informed of his approaching

arrival, the king not only sent vessels to meet and welcome him,

but his son Federigo and Ferrandino, Prince of Capua, were on the

landing-place to receive him. A great crowd had assembled to see

the man whose name had long been in the mouths of all. The house of

Pasquale Diaz Garloni, Count of Alife, opposite the Castelnuovo, the

usual residence of the king, was destined for the guest.[301] The

reception was honourable, and the first meeting with the king very

cordial.[302] Ferrante could not shake off the impression which Lorenzo

made on him personally. It must have been clear to him that if he

made it up with this man who exhibited in his youth so much shrewdness

and skill, and such great political sagacity, he could rely directly

on the Republic; and, while securing Lorenzo’s authority at home by

peace and by alliance, he would be strengthening and establishing his

own influence on Italian affairs. Thus far it must have been easy

for Lorenzo to persuade the king, who was not expected to give the

preference to a popular form of government. But a number of the most

varied considerations had to be weighed by Ferrante. He had to consider

the Pope, of whom he was not fond, and whom, remembering the position

of the Holy See at Naples, he did not trust, but whom he neither dared

nor wished to offend on account of this very position. The Venetians

had to be considered; they were dangerous neighbours for him as well

as the Pope, on account of their constant endeavours to extend their

dominion on the Adriatic coasts; while a good understanding with them

was all the more uncertain because their policy was mostly determined

by conjunctures which were foreign to the relations of the other

Italian States. Siena, too, must not be overlooked, which the king and

his son had their eye upon; nor Milan, where a change was in progress

the extent of which could not be appreciated. All this, combined with

the traditions of the policy of the times—namely the policy of a ruler

surrounded by foreign and domestic difficulties from the beginning of

his reign—must have caused Ferrante to hesitate long. Besides, it

cannot be doubted that he wished to see what turn Florentine affairs

would take in Lorenzo’s absence.

From various causes things were still unsettled in Florence. Lorenzo’s

determination and sudden journey had not made the same impression on

all the allies. Lodovico il Moro had assisted in it, and the Venetians

were taken by surprise. They expressed their distrust and vexation in

plain language. The Venetians, relates Francesco Guicciardini,[303]

persuaded themselves that peace had been concluded between Naples and

Florence; that Lorenzo had only gone thither for the ratification of

peace, and that they were left at their enemies’ discretion. But in

order to hinder the treaty in case it were not yet concluded, or, in

other words, to secure themselves, it seemed necessary for them to be

as well armed as possible. They recalled their troops from Tuscany, but

at the same time offered to Milan and Florence a renewal of the compact

hitherto existing. The news had spread as far as Rome and elsewhere

that this alliance had been dissolved on account of non-fulfilment of

the conditions, so that it seemed necessary to renew it formally. In

order not to render the negotiations with Naples more difficult, the

offer was declined in Florence. When the Venetians offered the command

of their troops to Roberto Malatesta—who would have been unable to

accept it without the consent of Florence—permission was granted him

by the latter, though unwillingly, in order not to offend Venice.

‘The ambassadors of our allies,’ wrote Bartolommeo Scala, on January

4, 1480, to Lorenzo,[304] ‘give us trouble enough. They have become

suspicious, but I do not believe they are agreed among themselves.

They besiege us daily, officially and privately, in order to obtain

news. It will not be easy to come to an understanding, especially with

the Venetians; but we must keep to that which was given to you at

your departure. The affair has its difficulties, and it will be best

to conclude it with your aid. Now when you are far away, we, like the

fools we are, have learnt to know you better.’ The Venetian ambassador

in France expressed the same anxiety that in the new alliance which

Lorenzo was endeavouring to effect at Naples, Venice would not only be

excluded, but would have to suffer herself.[305]

That the most varied tendencies were manifested at home was but

natural. Not only the ancient opponents of the Medici raised their

heads but even a few of their own party showed themselves lukewarm

or disaffected. The heavy losses made the game easy for the former.

It was said to be time to change a system which had lasted so long,

and united all political power in the hands of a comparatively small

number of families. Offices as well as burdens should for the future

be no longer dispensed at the will of these few, but be granted and

distributed by the old councils. The uncertainty of Lorenzo’s fate gave

this party courage, while it made many of his adherents inclined to

come to terms with them by a compromise. It seems, indeed, that they

thought of choosing Girolamo Morelli, the former ambassador in Milan,

as a new leader. The friends of the Medici thought they had gained much

if they prevented a change till Lorenzo’s return. Piero Guicciardini,

the historian’s father, was one of those most active in his behalf. The

unfavourable position of foreign affairs had been rendered still worse

at the moment of his departure. Without regarding the armistice still

existing, Lodovico and Agostino Fregoso had by a _coup-de-main_ seized

upon Sarzana, which had been only eleven years in the possession of

Florence. When the Republic complained to the leaders of the Neapolitan

and Papal army, these expressed themselves angry at the breach of peace

by the Genoese, and commanded them to leave the city. But they were

not expelled; and the Florentines suspected, certainly not without

ground, that the Duke of Calabria had had a hand in the game, in order

to increase, for his advantage, the number of claims in the forthcoming

treaties of peace. The military situation was likewise much injured by

the departure of the Venetians, and the exhaustion and disunion of the

Florentines gave no prospect of improvement.[306]

The connection with the lords of Romagna was also uncertain. As may

easily be understood, the latter followed the negotiations of the

Florentines with their former enemies with the greatest anxiety, for

their very existence depended on the result. This was particularly

the case with Galeotto Manfredi. After the defeat at Poggio Imperiale

Costanzo Sforza had marched to Romagna with as many men as could be

spared, in order to protect his own territories and those of the

Malatesta and Manfredi from an attack which was most to be dreaded by

the latter if it came from Imola. But the precaution was not sufficient

to pacify Galeotto. On the other side the Florentines could not submit

to the capture of their best general Roberto Malatesta, so they

ordered an ambassador and 200 men to Faenza in order to protect its

master. Gismondo Manfredi, Taddeo’s son, remained in the service of

the Republic, and also Antoniello Ordelaffi, Cecco’s son, the rightful

heir to Forli, which was withheld from him by his uncle Pino, whom the

Pope favoured. Costanzo Sforza felt safer than the other petty lords on

account of the Milanese relationship; but a real mutual confidence was

not to be thought of, even here.[307]

While affairs were in this state in Florence, Lorenzo de’ Medici was

occupied with troubles of another kind.

His appearance in Naples was exceedingly distasteful to the Pope. From

the first Sixtus had perceived the king’s inclination to agree to

favourable terms, the final result of which he easily foresaw. But,

if powerless to prevent an understanding, he would at least have a

personal share in it, and insisted that Lorenzo should come to Rome.

However, the latter showed no inclination to take the journey, and

was strengthened in his objection by Ferrante.[308] Lorenzo Giustini,

who had been deputed to Naples by the Pope, left no argument unused

to persuade him. When all this resulted in nothing, and the treaty

between the king and Florence seemed to take a favourable course,

Sixtus IV. despatched a special plenipotentiary Antonio Crivelli.

The detailed instructions given to this man put the whole course of

affairs and the relations of the Pope and king in the clearest light.

‘After the events in Florence had taken a course so displeasing to the

Church,’ says the Pope in this remarkable document,[309] ‘we held it

best to hear the king’s opinion of the imprisonment of the cardinal and

other things; and, as his Majesty by several writings not only agreed

with us, but called upon and encouraged us to take up arms, with the

offer and promise to make every exertion and put his son’s and his own

life at stake, in order to avenge this insult shown to the Holy See,

it was unanimously determined to begin the war against Lorenzo and his

adherents as the stumbling-block and disturber of the peace of Italy.

At the same time the freedom of Florence must be restored, to which we

and the king’s Majesty have pledged ourselves by autograph and other

documentary writings, being moved thereto by Lorenzo’s evil proceedings

and the disturbances caused by him in Italy. Lorenzo likewise has

endeavoured to sow dissension between us and the king, and to dissolve

the alliance in favour of one drawn up by himself.’

After the Pope had remarked that the ingratitude of Lorenzo was all

the greater because he had won treasure by means of the Holy See,

he expatiated on the course of the war, which was only begun when

spiritual weapons availed nothing, on the attempts of foreign powers

to terminate the strife with due respect to the Holy See and the king,

and the great advantages obtained in 1479. When peaceful overtures were

made by Milan, the king declined them. At the time it had been remarked

by several cardinals that he only did this in order to transfer the

negotiations to Naples, and be able to ascribe all the merit to

himself, and likewise to negotiate with Lorenzo without any regard

to the Holy See, as at present was actually the case, according to

the report of the royal ambassador. While the Pope was led to believe

that the king agreed with him in views and treatment of affairs, the

latter had let a number of other considerations influence him. They

had decided to insist upon Lorenzo’s banishment from Florence; and

then came the king’s doubt as to whether it would be possible to

attain this, and whether there was not danger of his returning like

his grandfather Cosimo. Little as the Pope believed in the validity

of the reasons urged, as he thought that the principal end of the

undertaking was overlooked, and that Lorenzo, having shown himself to

be so bad when they were doing him good, would be found still worse

now that he was irritated, he had yet persuaded himself to agree to

a reconciliation with Lorenzo as the king wished, if the conditions

demanded by him through his ambassador could be obtained, while,

if this did not happen, the war should be continued. The king had

commanded the captains of his army to continue operations although they

thought of pacification, and on the showing of the Duke of Calabria the

prospect of reconciliation offered by the enemy diminished the prospect

of success. He had answered that by negotiation he would neither tie

his own hands nor those of the army. Even then the Pope had complied

with the king’s wishes, although his son’s opinion had seemed to him

correct.

‘Scarcely had this occurred,’ continued Sixtus, ‘than the armistice

followed, which filled us with surprise and displeasure, and confirmed

us in the suspicion awakened. Therefore we refused decidedly to

acknowledge it, and only yielded to the ambassador’s urgency, and

because we perceived that we could not continue the war alone; under

the express stipulation, however, that, if the conditions of peace

should suffer thereby, we should never pardon the king for it. We made

a virtue of necessity, but to our serious displeasure, for we saw how

we missed the victory while we were deprived of the satisfaction of

liberating Florence from these tyrants, and restoring freedom and quiet

to her and peace to all Italy. The hope still remained to us that as

the king had turned us whither he wished, he would at least conclude

peace on the conditions mentioned, and would have some regard to the

honour of God, the Church, and himself. Lorenzo went to Naples. The

king announced to us he knew nothing of his movements, but in spite of

all, if Lorenzo should refuse to accept the stipulations agreed upon,

he would dismiss him. In a case of this kind we must stake the tiara

and the whole States of the Church, and his Majesty would venture the

crown and ten kingdoms, if he had them, to effect Lorenzo’s expulsion

and complete ruin.’ The Pope had demanded that Lorenzo should come

to Rome and beg for forgiveness, and that the lords of Romagna, who

were guilty of rebellion, should do the same. Lorenzo so decidedly

declined the former, that the king requested the Pope to withdraw this

demand. He, Sixtus, refused this, however, for it was a point which

the king disregarded—the only satisfaction he would receive in the

whole affair. Respecting the lords of Romagna, the king desired that

time might be afforded to them to fulfil their obligations, if the Pope

would not leave it to the king to arrange the matter with them. Both

conditions were refused, as also the proposal to send ambassadors to

Milan at the same time as the king, to settle the other conditions of

peace. The Pope had repeatedly shown that the king had it in his power

to terminate the matter by force of arms if he fulfilled the conditions

of alliance; and as Lorenzo was in his power, and would yield to him

whether willing or not, he might also be induced to negotiate. Instead,

however, of breaking with Lorenzo as he had hinted he should in case

the latter refused to accept the conditions offered him, he treated

him more kindly every day he was in Naples. The Pope wished for peace.

In order to attain this peace he had begun the war, which had already

cost him a heap of money. But he would purchase no peace with his

dishonour.

The position of affairs is rendered quite clear by these instructions.

Ferrante was inclined to come to terms with Lorenzo, but the Pope’s

representations could not fail to make some impression on him. Lorenzo

did not conceal this from himself, though he appeared content and

cheerful before others, but when alone he had many heavy and anxious

hours. His letters to the Ten prove this, by the manner in which he

describes the rising and falling of his hopes. The affairs of Romagna

increased the difficulties considerably; for if Ferrante believed that

he had freedom to act in regard to Florentine affairs, inasmuch as he

had not to pay attention to Siena, he found himself tied here towards

the Pope. Florence did not cease to urge including the dynasties of

Romagna in the peace. ‘The lords of Romagna who are in our pay,’ wrote

Agnolo della Stufa on January 4, 1480,[310] ‘are warmly commended to

you for our own honour’s sake. For if they are left to the will of

the Pope, I consider them as lost, for I know how the priests act. No

one will believe in our protection any more. If the king, as I hope,

receives us as his devoted sons, he must be also careful to preserve

us this reputation as long as he can.’ No less skill was needful to

continue the negotiation, as the Duke of Calabria, who speculated on

the weakness of the Florentines, was exceedingly disinclined towards

it. Perhaps Lorenzo’s aim would not have been attained had he not won

over the most distinguished counsellor of the king, Diomede Carafa,

Count of Maddaloni, son of that Malizia Carafa who had been so active

in the cause of King Alfonso of Aragon. In the endless street which

the people had named Spacca-Napoli, near the Dominican convent, is the

palace where he resided—a building of architectural value. In the

court of this house, once adorned with the colossal antique horse’s

head, the arms of the city, King Ferrante had on one occasion stood

waiting for the faithful servant who was to accompany him. Diomede

Carafa was a man of distinction. He had served under King Alfonso,

aided in the conquest of Naples, and penetrated within a few miles of

the capital in the Florentine war of 1452. As superintendent of finance

he had great influence on the administration—an influence which

brought him into violent opposition to the king’s private secretary,

a quarrel the fatal ending of which cast a dark shadow on the later

period of Ferrante’s reign. With the king and his children, especially

the second son Don Federigo, he stood in the most intimate connection.

He shared Lorenzo de’ Medici’s interest in literature and art; and, if

he was far from rivalling him in his high literary gifts, he showed

in several smaller works of a didactic kind, in books on war and

courtlife, in the rules of behaviour for the king’s daughters Beatrice

and Eleonora, a practical understanding, knowledge of business, and

experience of the world that was very rare.

The Count of Maddaloni was not the only one whom Lorenzo gained over

to his interest. Naples at that time was a city full of busy life and

varied culture, which had been promoted first by King Alfonso and then

by his sons, in which Lorenzo must have felt himself all the more at

home as the literary connections with his native city were various, and

many of the artistic circle which had been so intimate with his family

for three generations, beginning with Donatello, had laboured here,

while the Florentine banking-houses had the greater part of the money

matters of the Neapolitans in their own hands. From the royal family,

members of which had repeatedly been his guests, to the citizens and

country people, increasing affection was shown him, as Pope Sixtus had

said. The Duchess of Calabria, remembering old friendship, became,

as the king expressed it, his fellow-ally, and reminded him in later

years of their wanderings at the villa—probably that near the Riviera

di Chiaja of the present day—between the banks and the heights of

Vomero, then with a free prospect over sea and shore, which is now

changed into the Ferrandina palace with the adjoining gardens and

buildings. ‘The present letter will not be one of those which refer to

alliance and State affairs, but will merely bring to your remembrance

that we always think of you, although we are by no means certain that

you often think of our garden, which is now most beautiful and in full

bloom.’[311] The century was not wanting in highly-cultivated women,

but Ippolita Maria, who excelled so many in grace, also exceeded the

ladies of her time in literary knowledge; and as her familiarity with

Cicero’s writings was praised, so did she also shine in her knowledge

of Greek, in which Constantinos Lascaris had been her teacher. Her

learning did not diminish her womanly charm.[312] Lorenzo lived in

Naples _en grand seigneur_, spared no expense, gave banquets and made

presents, and dowered poor girls who came to him from the provinces.

He purchased the freedom of a hundred galley-slaves, and gave them new

clothes.[313] But that he urgently wished to attain his purpose and be

able to return home may be well understood, for the ground under him

was not safe either here or there. When the king presented him with a

beautiful horse, he remarked, in thanking him, that the man who would

be the bearer of good news needed indeed a swift steed.

At length the main conditions of the treaty were agreed upon, and

without having come to a formal conclusion Lorenzo deemed it possible

to quit Naples, and to leave further steps to the Republic. At the end

of February he departed by sea as he had arrived. Three months had

passed, a time full of doubts and fears, but crowned with success.

‘He landed,’ says Niccolò Valori, ‘in Livorno, from whence he went to

Pisa. In the harbour and town he was received with such a manifestation

of joy, with such signs of attachment and shouts of applause from

the whole population, that the place itself seemed to join in the

rejoicing. But it is impossible to describe how he was received at his

entry into Florence. Young and old, men and women, flocked together.

The people and the nobles rejoiced together to see him return safely.

To all he gave his hand kindly and gratefully. The people embraced each

other for joy.’ But a reaction soon set in. On the evening of March

17 a compact was published, which had been concluded on the 13th at

Naples by Agostino Biliotti and Niccolò Michelozzi in the name of the

Republic.[314] They had made peace; but the conditions were not easy,

and the suspicion arose among the people that the most oppressive

articles were kept secret. If all the circumstances are considered,

however, the conditions were supportable. The Florentines had been

conquered, and from whatever point of view the cause of the war might

be judged, the fact of defeat could not be denied.

On March 25, 1480, the feast of the Annunciation, peace and alliance

were formally proclaimed throughout Florence, and a grand procession

took place headed by the statue from Sta. Maria dell’Impruneta, which

was brought into the city for the purpose. The two opponents bound

themselves mutually to defend their states; the occupied places should

be restored to the Florentines, but at the king’s own time, and with

the exception of Castellina and a part of the Chianti, which was

to be given to Siena. The Duke of Calabria was to be paid a salary

under the name of _condotta_. The Pazzi imprisoned in the tower of

Volterra were to be restored to freedom. The lords of Romagna were

not included in the treaty of peace but the king pledged himself to

preserve their interests. Lorenzo had exerted himself in vain in this

respect. Ferrante out of regard for the Pope was not to be moved. The

dynasties, with the exception of the Ordelaffi, had not to complain

later, as we shall see. Efforts on behalf of the Chianti had likewise

been fruitless. Lorenzo endeavoured to show how advantageously it would

affect the future connections of the Republic with the king if their

territory remained undiminished.[315] It offended the Florentines most

of all that they did not even receive a promise respecting Sarzana, the

restitution of which they had tried to obtain during the negotiations,

in order to diminish the number of claims of compensation from their

opponents. The demand of payment to Girolamo Riario which had been

threatened them, and would indeed have been an insult, was allowed to

remain in abeyance. ‘The conditions,’ remarks Francesco Guicciardini,

‘were not unfavourable to the vanquished.’ But the populace in Florence

were not of the same opinion. That they were not satisfied with the

demeanour of Lodovico Sforza and his influence on the negotiation is

shown by a letter of the Duke of Ferrara to his ambassador, wherein he

requires him to represent to Lorenzo that he would do well to go as

much as possible hand in hand with Milan, even if some things in the

compact were displeasing. He was not to forget that Florence and Milan

were two states whose interests coincided, and whose true union would

be useful to both, as it had been before.[316]

At Rome and Milan the compact was made known on the same day as at

Florence. In the presence of the Pope and his cardinals, Ambrogio

Cerano, general of the Augustinians, announced peace[317] from the

pulpit in Sta. Maria del Popolo, where the Papal service took place on

the feast of the Annunciation.

The position with regard to Sixtus IV. remained, however, as uncertain

as before. Scarcely had Lorenzo left Naples when the king received

through Lorenzo Giustini, new proposals of agreement which appeared

to him of sufficient importance to justify his sending after Medici,

and requesting him to return from Gaeta or Pisa in order to effect an

agreement with Sixtus. The latter, so wrote the king, had displayed

the greatest readiness to agree to the proposals made by Florence and

Milan; and as Girolamo Riario had expressed himself in like manner,

Lorenzo’s return appeared to him highly desirable to bring the matter

to a conclusion, all the more so as the Pope had regarded his departure

as a sign of ill-will. He, the king, had indeed answered that this

departure had been caused by affairs at Florence; but he advised him

to announce at home that bad weather had hindered him on the way, and

as, meanwhile, the Papal decision had arrived, he had considered it

necessary to return in order not to delay the complete conclusion of

the affair. In this manner he would render the League and Milan a real

service, put an end to the Pope’s suspicion, recover his affection,

and promote the king’s interests also. The negotiation could then

proceed without delay on the part of the Milanese ambassadors, who

had a time of departure appointed them, and he would return with the

fame of having completed his work.[318] In this suggestion a cunning

intention has sometimes been suspected, as if the king, enticed by the

new proposals of the Pope, had repented his compact with Lorenzo, and

tried to get the latter into his power again in order to dictate his

will to him. Ferrante’s whole subsequent behaviour affords no ground

for such a suspicion. But that Lorenzo did not accede to the king’s

wishes is explained sufficiently by the painful suspense in which the

Papal policy had kept him so long, and by the necessity of his presence

at home. Probably, too, the king expected no result from this step,

which he was obliged to take for the sake of the Pope. Sixtus IV.

did, indeed, ratify the peace, as we have seen; but he was very ill

satisfied with the whole course of the matter, and Lorenzo Giustini,

who had conducted the negotiation, lost the confidence of the Pope

and his nephew, which he had long enjoyed.[319] Antonio Ridolfi and

Piero Masi were sent to Rome to defend the cause of the Republic. They

accomplished little. The Pope demanded that Lorenzo himself should come

to Rome, for which the latter showed no inclination, and which was also

advised against by others, Ferrara for example.[320] Sixtus complaining

that the agreement and new alliance were to the disadvantage of the

Church, allied himself with the Venetians, who regarded their ancient

relation to Milan and Florence as dissolved, and left the Florentines

still under the pressure of the interdict laid upon them.

Evils soon followed this policy in Romagna. Costanzo Sforza was in

a difficulty, but his powerful relations came to his aid this time

also against the plans of the Pope’s nephew. In Forli, on the other

hand, affairs took a turn very unfavourable for the Republic. Pino

degli Ordelaffi, whom we saw in 1466 violently freed from his brother

Cecco, almost the only one of these lords of Romagna who took the side

of Sixtus IV., had died on February 10, worn out by his dissipated

life, which made it impossible for him to support the fatigues of a

short campaign, which did not tax him heavily. In 1473 be had obtained

from the Pope the renewal of his vice-regency for his own natural

descendants, to the exclusion of his nephew Antonio or Antoniello, to

whom, according to previous family statutes, the joint government of

Forli belonged, and who, like his father, held to Florence as firmly as

Pino to the opposite party. The natural son of the latter, Sinibaldo,

a boy of thirteen years, had been acknowledged by the inhabitants of

Forli as his successor. His stepmother and guardian, Zaffiera Manfredi,

soon made herself so hated that an insurrection broke out as early as

the beginning of July, in consequence of which Antoniello on the 8th

entered Forli. Here the people were still fighting the mercenaries

of Sinibaldo, who had sought protection in the fortress of Ravaldino.

Sixtus IV. took advantage of this opportunity. The Duke of Urbino

received a command to march to Forli; Antoniello was declared deprived

of all his rights, and as the boy Sinibaldo died about this time—how

is unknown—the Pope granted Forli to Girolamo Riario as a lapsed fief.

The citizens at first showed themselves willing to defend the cause

of the rightful heir; but when the duke approached the city, and a

few skirmishes had ended unfavourably, neither provisions nor money

for a longer opposition were existing, and Antoniello recognised the

impossibility of maintaining himself. On August 8 he quitted Forli and

repaired to Florentine territory, and on the following day the Papal

army entered, and Riario was proclaimed lord of Forli. How displeased

they were in Florence to see these embittered enemies at their frontier

with increased powers, may be understood. Two conspiracies in favour of

the Ordelaffi, which broke out in the course of the year, failed, and

Antoniello, who remained in the service of the Republic, awaited better

times.

Far more serious cause of anxiety was afforded by affairs in Siena.

Peace had been proclaimed on March 25 at Siena, but the Duke of

Calabria made no sign of evacuating the territory of that Republic.

During the winter he had been frequently in the city, and he managed

to make himself beloved by the inhabitants. They gave him festivals in

the palace, balls, banquets, and masquerades; and in return he bestowed

knighthood, stood sponsor for children, and was present at the election

of magistrates. In February he had been with troops in the Maremma,

whence an attack from the Duke of Lorraine was feared. Three days after

the proclamation of peace Alfonso went to Viterbo in order to consult

with the Duke of Urbino, who was taking the baths there; and when he

returned, the city sent him to Buonconvento, where the greater part

of his troops were encamped, to meet three illustrious citizens with

the ostensible object of welcoming him, and inviting him to Siena—in

reality, to discover his intentions. For suspicion was already roused

regarding Neapolitan affairs, and not without reason. Twice already

in King Alfonso’s as well as in Ferrante’s days, the Aragonese had

sought to gain ground in Siena. The discord which had always prevailed

more in this city than in any other offered frequent opportunity for

intervention. One happened at this very time. The Duke of Calabria,

who had a residence in Siena, although he was chiefly in the camp, had

put himself in communication with the disaffected of the aristocratic

party, the Monte de’ Nove, the heads of which had lived in banishment

since 1456 or stood aloof from government. His repeated endeavours to

obtain the recall of the exiles had remained without result. It was now

attempted in another way. On the morning of June 22, the friends of the

duke, with the help of some of his troops, who were secretly admitted

into the city, seized on the piazza and palace of the commonwealth,

summoned a council of the people to which only their own adherents

were admitted, abolished the government which had existed hitherto,

and excluded its heads and partisans from office, appointing for the

next two months a new magistracy composed entirely of members of their

party. Without violence or bloodshed, an entire faction of the citizens

which had ruled the city for seventy-seven years was expelled from home

and position.

The duke was in Buonconvento when this revolution took place, either

in order not to seem to countenance it, or to avoid danger in case the

citizens rose in favour of the government, as they had done once before

in the Emperor Charles IV.’s time. He calculated that the victors would

call upon him, if only to accept the military aid without which they

were too weak to maintain themselves permanently—and he calculated

rightly. The Signory and magistrates went to meet him at the gates

on his entry; and during his stay of several days the people were

so amused by festivities that the new rulers had time to recall the

exiles, and weaken their enemies by banishment and fines. All this was

of a kind to inspire the Florentines with the most serious anxiety;

for if the Aragonese obtained a firm footing in Tuscany, their own

independence was much more endangered, for late events had shown how

inferior their military power was to that of the king. ‘Suspicion,’

remarks Machiavelli, ‘seized not only the people, but the heads of the

State likewise;’ and it is considered that the city had never been in

such danger of losing her freedom. This suspicion was strengthened by

events on the Ligurian frontier, in which from the first the Duke of

Calabria’s hand had been recognised. Sarzana was not only not given up

to the Republic, but the garrison disturbed the neighbouring territory

so that Giovanni Aldobrandini, commander of the fortress of Sarzanello,

received commands to repel force by force.

Such was the position of affairs when an unexpected occurrence

produced a decided reaction in the political situation of Central

Italy. The quarrels of the Christian princes, which armed Louis XI.

against Maximilian of Austria, and Mathias Corvinus against Ladislaus

of Poland, the Tuscan war, and the Venetian peace, had been very

advantageous for Mohammed II. The aged sultan wished to crown the

series of his conquests with a brilliant feat of arms. The Sicilian

coasts had been threatened in 1479. In May 1480 a numerous Turkish

fleet attacked Rhodes. The heroic courage of Pierre d’Aubusson and

his knights saved the island, which was held to be the bulwark of

Christendom. Returning from the fruitless siege, a part of the squadron

took a westerly direction, and, sailing by the Venetian islands of

the Ionian sea, landed a considerable number of troops—about seven

thousand men—on the southern coast of Apulia (July 28), where, after

a terrible slaughter of the neighbouring population, the blockade of

Otranto began. On August 11, after a hard struggle, the town fell into

the hands of the inhuman opponents of the Christians.

The blow was stunning. The whole of Italy was in a flame. The threat

of Mohammed to plant the Crescent instead of the Cross in Rome was

remembered. It is said that in his first terror the Pope thought of

quitting the city and retiring to Avignon. But Sixtus IV. was not a man

to lose courage. He wrote to all the Christian princes, representing

the urgent danger to them. Cardinal Gabriele Rangoni went to Naples,

Cardinal Savelli to Genoa, to mediate between the disputants, Cardinal

Giuliano Cesarini to France and England. A French fleet was to combine

with the Neapolitan. The first result for the Florentines was the

return of the Duke of Calabria to Naples. On August 1 the king had

received news of the Turks, and he immediately recalled his son.[321]

The advantage accruing to the Florentines from the new position of

affairs was so great and so evident that many voices were heard

accusing Lorenzo de’ Medici of having encouraged the sultan to attack

Apulia. The friendly relations with Mohammed II., which had been proved

at the Pazzi conspiracy, must have likewise afforded grounds for such

an accusation, the influence of which is, however, not discernible in

the subsequent attitude of the king.[322] On August 7 the duke quitted

Siena. If he accused fate of wresting from him the fruits of his two

years’ exertions in Tuscany the very moment he believed himself certain

of success, he caused those to complain who had calculated on his

assistance, and now feared having to yield for want of it. The same

Prinzivalle di Gennaro who had accompanied Lorenzo was entrusted with

the superintendence of the place which, for the present, was to remain

in the king’s hands, and be given back to the Florentines at the end

of March of the next year. The reconciliation of the Republic with

the Pope could be no longer delayed. It must have been especially

important to him to leave no cause for discontent in Florence when such

danger threatened Christendom.

At the request of King Ferrante, the Signoria, who had conducted

the government during the two last months of the year 1480 with the

Gonfaloniere Bernardo Rucellai, appointed a solemn embassy which

should request Sixtus IV. to revoke the spiritual interdict. The

most distinguished men of the city undertook the mission: Francesco

Soderini, Bishop of Volterra, and afterwards Cardinal, Luigi

Guicciardini, Bongianni Gianfigliazzi, Piero Minerbetti—who all three

possessed the dignity of knighthood—Guid’Antonio Vespucci, Maso

degli Albizzi, Gino Capponi, Jacopo Lanfredini, Domenico Pandolfini,

Giovanni Tornabuoni, Antonio de’ Medici—names some of which have

already appeared in the course of this history, others yet to be

seen. Antonio Ridolfi, who was in Rome holding the office of regular

ambassador of the Republic, was to join them. The instructions given

to the deputies[323] were conciliatory, but moderate and dignified.

‘After the disturbances permitted by God,’ it says, ‘which have been

principally pacified by the grace of his Holiness, peace and quiet

never appeared so sweet to us as at present, for the true peace of our

people devoted to the Holy See depends on the right understanding with

him whom Divine Providence has placed there, and appointed vicegerent

of Christ and successor of Peter. We know that in public and private

we have committed various errors from human weakness, which the Holy

Father has perceived better than we, and therefore send you to entreat

pardon for the same and acknowledge our guilt, and commend our city

and citizens, clergy and laity, to his protection for the future.’

But the ambassadors were at the same time recommended to watch over

the honour and interests of city and State, to give way in reasonable

matters, to refuse unreasonable and dishonourable demands prompted by

secret motives, whether they referred to a public demonstration of

obedience, payments of money, or other things; they were to depart with

their protest in case it should not seem suitable to send for fresh

instructions. The affairs of Lorenzo de’ Medici were to be included in

the general instructions; for special cases Antonio de’ Medici was to

represent him. The Archbishop Rinaldo Orsini, residing at Rome, should

be informed of all, and his mediation with the Pope claimed.

Sixtus IV. had long resolved on reconciliation. On St. Catherine’s

day, November 25, the ambassadors arrived at Rome, welcomed only by

their adherents in the State and friends, as the interdict was still

in force. Two days later they were admitted to the secret consistory,

where the Bishop of Ferrara made a suitable and well-composed speech.

On the first Advent Sunday, December 3, the solemn abrogation took

place in the portico of St. Peter’s. Before the closed bronze gate

of the central nave of the basilica, seated on a throne covered with

purple silk, surrounded by the cardinals, prelates, and officers, and

in presence of a great crowd, the Pope received the ambassadors, who

kissed his foot, and on bended knee besought his forgiveness in the

name of the city, and promised to fulfil the conditions prescribed.

Luigi Guicciardini, an aged man, spoke, but his address was brief,

and difficult to be understood from the noise. An apostolic notary

then read aloud the conditions in the presence of the fiscal advocate

and procurators, to which the ambassadors bound themselves by oath.

The Pope then addressed them, reproved them briefly for what they had

done against the Church, and then declared them free by touching the

shoulder of each lightly with a staff such as penitents were accustomed

to carry, with the words ‘Miserere mei Deus,’ to which the cardinals

responded. Hereupon the ambassadors again kissed the Pope’s foot, and

received his blessing, after which the gates were opened, and Sixtus

IV. being raised on his throne, all went into church, and high mass was

celebrated.

Peace was restored. Most of the members of the embassy returned

immediately to Florence. Only Francesco Soderini and Guid’Antonio

Vespucci remained in order to arrange matters. They also quitted Rome

on December 18 with small pomp and suite, and by no means in a cheerful

frame of mind. For among the conditions imposed on them by the Pope

was the one that the Republic should furnish fifteen galleys for the

war with the Turks;[324] a severe condition considering the depressed

position in which Florence found herself at the end of a war which had

required the hardest pecuniary sacrifices, and desolated a great part

of her territory.

_FOURTH BOOK._

THE MEDICI IN THEIR RELATION TO LITERATURE AND ART.

FIRST PART.

_THE HUMANISTS AND POPULAR LITERATURE TO THE SECOND HALF OF THE

FIFTEENTH CENTURY._