A Criminal History of Mankind (55 page)

The boy Raffaello was told nothing about the plot. He was due to collect Lorenzo at his house on Easter Sunday and then go on to the cathedral to perform Mass. When the plotters arrived at Lorenzo’s house, they were told that he had already gone ahead with Raffaello. But his brother was still in bed. Pazzi and Baroncelli asked to see Giuliano, exerted their powers of persuasion, and finally got him to dress and accompany them to the cathedral. As they walked in, Pazzi gave Giuliano a friendly squeeze around the waist: he was actually feeling to see if he had brought his dagger. Giuliano was unarmed.

At the given signal, Baroncelli shouted ‘Traitor’ and plunged his dagger into Giuliano’s side. Then other members of the Pazzi family rushed forward and stabbed him another eighteen times. Giuliano died almost immediately. But the priest Maffei was less successful with Lorenzo. Instead of striking first, he placed a hand on Lorenzo’s shoulder to steady him for a powerful blow. Lorenzo, more alert than his sick brother, turned quickly, and received a stab wound in the neck. As Pazzi and Baroncelli rushed up to stab him, Lorenzo was surrounded by his friends and hustled into the sacristy, which had bronze doors. The assassins battered on these in vain, then decided it was time to leave. Lorenzo waited until the cathedral was empty and was led home by his friends.

Meanwhile, the head of the Pazzi family was riding around outside waving his sword and shouting ‘Liberty and the republic’ at the top of his voice. The angry crowd shouted ‘Balls’, not a reference to that part of the anatomy but to the balls on the Medici coat of arms. When the crowd showed signs of turning ugly, Jacopo rode out of the city gate to his country estate.

Archbishop Salviati’s part of the plot was to hurry to the Signoria Palace, where the town councillors - the priors - were meeting and announce that he was taking over the government of the city. His crowd of hired bravos were to rush in shortly afterwards to intimidate the priors. But having entered the courtyard, and let Salviati into the palace, they closed the door behind him, unaware that it had recently been fitted with a spring lock, so that they could not get in. So when, stuttering and stammering, Salviati tried to make his announcement - looking anxiously over his shoulder and wondering what had happened to his bravos - the head of the town council called his guards and arrested the archbishop.

Meanwhile news of Giuliano’s murder had spread, and an angry crowd gathered outside the palace. When the gate was forced open they found the trapped bravos and massacred them. Some of the crowd rushed to the Pazzis’ house, where Francesco had retired to bed with a wound in his leg; he was dragged back to the palace. Then, as the crowd below screamed ‘Balls!’, the body of Francesco shot out of the upstairs window, a rope around the neck, and stopped with a grotesque jerk. There was a sound of screaming, and Archbishop Salviati fell out of the same window; he was actually seen to bite Pazzi in the breast as he dangled on the end of the rope, then try to bite through the rope with his teeth. Two more of the plotters followed him. In the square, anyone who was suspected of being in the plot was hacked to death. The boy cardinal had to be escorted back home, while the crowd shouted threats about lynching. Finally, Lorenzo himself appeared at the window of the Signoria, his neck bandaged, and asked the crowd to go to their homes. They obeyed him.

The other two Pazzis - Jacopo and Renato - were caught two days later. Jacopo was tortured and then hanged naked. The innocent Renato, who had opposed the plot, was also hanged on Lorenzo’s orders. Such sternness was uncharacteristic of Lorenzo; but he had loved his brother very deeply. The two priests who had tried to stab him were found in hiding; their ears and noses were sliced off, then they were hanged. The hired killer Montesecco was also caught and tortured; he made a full confession implicating the pope, and as a result was allowed a soldier’s death by the sword.

Pope Sixtus was understandably furious at the failure of the plot, and the murder of Salviati seemed a direct challenge to his power. He ordered that Lorenzo should be sent to Rome to be tried for the crime. Florence, of course, refused. So the pope excommunicated the city and called for a crusade to destroy it. There were many rival cities who were delighted to answer the call: Siena, Urbino, Naples. The Sienese began to raid Tuscany as did the dukes of Calabria and Urbino. And, most dangerous of all, so did the armies of King Ferrante of Naples, known as one of the toughest and least scrupulous rulers in Italy. Florence’s half-hearted mercenaries allowed themselves to be driven back; soon Ferrante commanded most of the Mediterranean coast. Then, as Florence fought with its back to the wall, the plague suddenly arrived, and people began to die at the rate of eight a day. Lorenzo knew his Florentines just as well as Dante knew them; it could only be a matter of time before they decided to hand him over.

But he fought back grimly. His ally the French ambassador managed to stop Lucca from declaring war by threatening to freeze the city’s goods in French ports. Florence’s allies, Venice and Milan, were persuaded to attack the forces of the pope and King Ferrante in the rear, which at least created a diversion. The pope countered by hiring Swiss troops to cross the Alps into Italy. Things began to look desperate.

And at this point, Lorenzo played the masterstroke of his career. As a man who kept his ear to the ground, he gathered that King Ferrante would like to see Florence humbled, but not destroyed. Besides, the French King Louis XI believed he had a claim to the throne of Naples. As a friend of Lorenzo’s, he would be sure to try to avenge his death by turning his armies against Naples. It was not good sense for Ferrante to place his head on the block merely to oblige a thoroughly treacherous pope.

And so Lorenzo walked straight into the lion’s mouth - into Naples. It was a dangerous thing to do - Ferrante was known as a man who would offer a safe conduct and then stab his guest in the back. Lorenzo was, quite simply, relying on his famous charm, and on the fact that he knew more about Italian politics than any other man. It took three months, but finally Lorenzo’s charm and good sense carried the argument. King Ferrante agreed to peace. The pope was furious and helpless. As Lorenzo returned to Florence, crowds cheered until they were hoarse and every bell in the city rang all day.

In the fluid state of Italian politics, the tide would no doubt have turned against Lorenzo sooner or later - in fact, the king of Naples regretted his decision as soon as he made it, and tried to get Lorenzo to return when he was on the high seas. Then, in 1480, Florence received aid from an unlikely ally - the Turks. They had taken Constantinople in 1453; now they besieged Otranto, in the ‘heel’ of Italy. And the man behind it - so everyone believed - was Lorenzo; he had casually told King Ferrante that he had some influence with the Turks, and now it looked as if he was telling the truth. Otranto fell, and there was a general belief that Mahomet II intended to march on Rome. The pope decided it was time to make peace. He received an embassy from Florence - naturally, Lorenzo stayed away - and granted the city absolution, while a crowd outside screamed orchestrated abuse at the ‘Florentine dogs’. Mahomet II died the following year, and Florence entered on a well-deserved period of peace that lasted until Lorenzo’s death in 1492.

By that time, Pope Sixtus had been dead for eight years, replaced by a belligerent nonentity called Innocent VIII. He died in the same year as Lorenzo the Magnificent. It was known that his own choice as a successor was the nephew of Pope Sixtus, Giuliano della Rovere; in fact, at the first ballot, the cardinals unhesitatingly elected him. Then the rival candidate proceeded to distribute enormous bribes - not just money but palaces and promises of high office. At the second ballot, he won easily. He became Pope Alexander VI, and historians show a rare unanimity in agreeing that he was the most corrupt, ungodly and ambitious man who had occupied the throne so far. His name was Rodrigo Borgia.

Rodrigo had a passion for young girls, and since - like most of the Borgias - he had charm and good looks, he was able to lead a life that Casanova would have envied. The previous pope had to reprimand him for holding an open-air orgy in his garden with crowds of expensive courtesans. (These were the days before Columbus brought the clap back from America and even mass promiscuity was perfectly safe.) His favourite mistress was a virtuous lady named Vannozza Cattanei, who regarded herself as his wife. On her Rodrigo fathered three bastards in succession: Juan, Cesare and Lucrezia. Juan was the eldest and most handsome; he inherited his father’s easygoing nature. Cesare was less handsome (although, like all the Borgias, he had nothing to complain about), but more passionate and self-assertive. The youngest, Lucrezia, born in 1480, was pretty and gentle, with a receding chin and a temperament that seemed to beg to be dominated. Both brothers obliged enthusiastically, and vied in teaching their sister erotic games. She was probably the mistress of both of them before she reached her teens.

At the time she was pregnant with Lucrezia, Vannozza was in her late thirties, and felt that her position ought to be legalised. Rodrigo was unable to marry her, but he found her a husband - who became the pope’s secretary as a reward. Rodrigo seems to have specified that she should not be unfaithful to him with her new husband, and when she produced a son named Joffre in 1482, suspected she had broken her side of the bargain; nevertheless, he gave the boy the same lavish affection as his brothers Juan and Cesare. One of these two would have to become a soldier, for Rodrigo had secret plans of becoming the master of all Italy. The other, of course, would have to enter the Church, because he would in due course become pope. To Cesare’s furious disgust, Juan was chosen for a military career while he was made a priest.

By the time his father became Pope Alexander VI in 1492, Cesare was already displaying signs of that peculiar temperament that would make him the most hated man in Italy. He was a youth of immense self-assertiveness, and he had been spoiled from birth, adored by his mother, later worshipped by his sister, loved and protected by his immensely powerful father. It was the kind of background that had created Caligula and Nero. Cesare was handsome, intelligent and athletic. He could see no earthly reason why his wishes should ever be frustrated. If they were, he exploded into rage. He never forgave an insult or slight. At sixteen, he put off his clerical vestments and rode around Rome fully armed, often with the current mistress by his side. He openly behaved like a lover towards his sister, who was just emerging into her teens, putting his arm round her in public. It may have been this that made the new pope decide that it was time Lucrezia got married. The husband he chose was a minor princeling, Giovanni Sforza, related to the family who governed Milan. Sforza seems to have been delighted at the prospect of an alliance with the most powerful family in Italy. But when he caught the look of brooding hostility on the face of his new brother-in-law, and heard of his reputation for disposing of his enemies with untraceable poisons, he must have realised that he had made a mistake. For the time being, in any case, he could not consummate the marriage, because Lucrezia was under age. At an early opportunity, he slipped off back to his estates at Pesaro.

The pope had fallen in love again, with a young girl named Giulia Farnese, who had long blond hair strikingly similar to Lucrezia’s. Giulia was betrothed to the pope’s nephew, Orsino, a child with a bad squint. Giulia did not resist the handsome Rodrigo for long; she became Orsino’s wife and Rodrigo’s mistress. The alliance was the beginning of the immense fortunes of the Farnese family. The boy Orsino did not seem to mind being cuckolded by his uncle, or if he did, he had no choice. As a reward for the Farnese family, the pope decided to make Giulia’s brother a cardinal - although he was aware that this was a move that would meet with strong opposition. While he was about it, it seemed good sense to make Cesare a cardinal as well. He waited until half the cardinals were out of Rome, then called the other half together and bullied and threatened them into creating the two new cardinals.

When the much-hated King Ferrante of Naples died in 1494, his son Alfonso came to the throne, and the pope decided to confirm his friendship by marrying his twelve-year-old son Joffre to Alfonso’s pretty illegitimate daughter Sanchia. At sixteen, Sanchia already had a reputation for promiscuity; she seemed a suitable addition to the Borgia clan. Besides, the pope liked young girls. But his bargain caused another menace to loom on the horizon. The French King Charles VIII - successor to Louis XI - felt he had a claim on Naples. In 1494, the worst happened, and Charles invaded Italy to claim his throne. It was to be the beginning of four centuries of foreign invasions and foreign domination.

For the Medicis in Florence, the invasion was disastrous. The new ruler of Florence was Lorenzo’s son Piero; but he was not half the man his father was. He had inherited the chief of his father’s troubles - a fiery monk called Savonarola, a kind of mad puritan who seethed with rage at the carnivals organised by the Medicis, and who had refused to give Lorenzo absolution on his deathbed. As the French army marched into Italy - defeating Alfonso at Rapallo -Savonarola went to meet the king at Pisa and announced that he was God’s agent who had come to restore the Church to its old virtues. As Charles drew near to Florence, Piero began to suffer convulsions of guilt and bad conscience; he had been partly responsible for the invasion by supporting Alfonso. Charles was not interested in Florence, but he was glad to accept the gold that Piero offered him, and the use of Florentine fortresses. The people of Florence were enraged at this pusillanimous conduct; they stoned Piero in the streets and chased the Medicis out of Florence. Then Florence declared itself a republic. In fact, Savonarola was its ruler. He encouraged the destruction of all ‘vanities’, including books and art treasures. The Medici palaces were attacked and priceless books, paintings and sculptures destroyed. During the carnival in 1497, a great bonfire was built in the square outside the Signoria palace, piled high with all of the usual carnival apparel - false beards and wigs, masquerade dresses - as well as books, paintings and other vanities; as the bonfire blazed, the people sang a
Te Deum
. But they soon grew tired of wearing sober clothes and singing hymns. Savonarola had gained his influence by telling them that the old times were the best, that the men of the past had all the virtues of decency; the Florentines were always susceptible to sentimental nostalgia. Now they had a chance to make a realistic assessment of the ‘old ways’ and their response was to have Savonarola arrested. The man who was really behind this was the pope, Rodrigo Borgia; he was growing nervous as Savonarola denounced the corruption of the Church. He ordered Savonarola to be tortured continually until he confessed something that would allow them to sentence him to death: on one single day, the monk was placed on the rack fourteen times. On the morning of 23 May 1498, Savonarola was taken to a scaffold that stood on the exact spot where the ‘bonfire of vanities’ had been held the year before and hanged with two companions; then his body was burned in front of the crowd. Rodrigo Borgia had once again silenced the opposition.