The period of oligarchical rule in Florence—Maso and Rinaldo degli Albizzi—Niccolo da Uzzano—The opposition and Giovanni de’ Medici—War with Filippo Maria Visconti—The Catasto—Unsuccessful attack upon Lucca—Expulsion of the Medici—Fall of the Albizzi, and return of Cosimo de’ Medici—Character and methods of Cosimo’s rule—Luca Pitti and the coup d’état of 1458—Cosimo’s foreign policy—Piero de’ Medici and his opponents—Victory of Piero—Accession of Lorenzo de’ Medici—Approximation to monarchy—Alienation of Naples, and quarrel with Sixtus IV.—Conspiracy of the Pazzi—War in 1478 and 1479—Lorenzo goes to Naples—Conclusion of peace—Constitutional changes in 1480—Lorenzo’s later years—Importance of his death—Reckless conduct of the younger Piero.
The leaders of the Florentine democracy paid a heavy penalty for their momentary triumph in 1378. A violent |Oligarchical rule in Florence.| reaction in 1382 restored the oligarchy under the leadership of the Albizzi, and for the next fifty years the curious machinery of the civic constitution was carefully manipulated to secure the ascendency of the dominant faction. Although it is by no means the most famous, there can be no doubt that this is one of the most successful periods in Florentine history. Under the resolute guidance of a close oligarchy, Florence maintained a heroic struggle against the encroachments of Gian Galeazzo Visconti until his death in 1402 saved the city from almost inevitable submission. When the Milanese dominions fell to pieces, Florence seized the opportunity to gain a great prize; and the city of Pisa, which commanded the mouth of the Arno, was in 1406 compelled to surrender after an obstinate resistance (see p. 244). Then followed a long war with Ladislas of Naples, in the course of which Florence acquired the important town of Cortona. And in 1421 the commercial interests of the city were strengthened by the purchase from Genoa of a second port—Livorno.
For a long time the active leader of the victorious faction and the most influential politician in Florence was Maso degli Albizzi, a nephew of the Piero degli Albizzi who had been so prominent in the party strife of the fourteenth century (see p. 164). Maso had returned from exile in 1382, and at various times held most of the chief offices of the state. While he was gonfalonier in 1393 harsh measures were taken to complete the defeat of the democrats. But, apart from the severity shown to the unfortunate Alberti and their supporters, Maso showed himself a wise and tolerant ruler. When he died in 1417, his place was, to some extent, taken by his eldest son, Rinaldo, who displayed great industry and integrity, but less prudence and insight than his father. The almost hereditary prominence of these two men did much to accustom the Florentines to that disguised despotism which was afterwards established by the Medici. But the Albizzi never enjoyed such undivided ascendency as was held by Cosimo and Lorenzo de’ Medici. At least as influential a leader as Rinaldo was Niccolo da Uzzano, who is frequently spoken of by contemporaries as the head of the party. He seems to have been a sincere enthusiast for aristocratic rule, and it was greatly due to his influence that the Albizzi were prevented from making themselves absolute masters of the city. His reputation for wisdom and insight was deservedly high, and his death in 1432 proved a fatal blow to the party in whose counsels he had always been on the side of moderation.
In spite of the services which it rendered to the state, the oligarchical government did not succeed in averting discontent and hostility. The strongest political sentiment among the Florentines was the love of equality, which found practical expression in the system of filling offices by lot. This love of equality was more outraged by the domination of a clique of ruling families than it would have been by the government of a single despot. The lesser guilds and the lower classes resented their virtual exclusion from office; and many wealthy citizens, who had incurred the displeasure of the dominant faction, found themselves equally left in the cold. Moreover, the militant foreign policy of the government was extremely expensive; and the burden of taxation, as was always the case in Florence, fell more heavily upon the opponents than upon the supporters of the government. Gradually the cause of the opposition came to be more and more identified with the house of Medici. The action of Salvestro de’ Medici in 1378 had identified the name with the popular cause, though he did not personally profit by its short-lived victory. In 1393, when the severe measures of Maso degli Albizzi provoked a popular rising, it was to Vieri de’ Medici, a kinsman of Salvestro, that the mob appealed for guidance, and it was his moderate advice which checked the rebellion. But it was a member of another branch of the family—Giovanni de’ Medici—who, in the second decade of the fifteenth century, came to be regarded as the leader of those who disapproved of the conduct of affairs by the ruling party. Giovanni was a banker and money-changer, and was so successful in his business that he became the richest citizen in Florence, if not in Italy. He employed his wealth in extending his popularity, though he was extremely careful to avoid any action which might give the government a handle against him. In 1421 he was drawn as gonfalonier, and Niccolo da Uzzano wished to cancel the appointment as dangerous. But Giovanni’s hold on the people, and especially on the lesser guilds, made such a step perilous, and his two months of office passed uneventfully. Giovanni de’ Medici died in 1429, leaving two sons—Cosimo, afterwards the ruler of Florence, and Lorenzo, whose descendants in the sixteenth century became grand-dukes of Tuscany.
As long as the oligarchical government was successful, there was little prospect of its overthrow, but from 1421 its credit steadily declined. The reunion of the |War with Filippo Maria Visconti.| Milanese territories under Filippo Maria Visconti constituted a serious menace to Florence, and the imperative duty of self-defence compelled the republic to embark once more in a desperate struggle for existence. In 1424 the Florentine army, under Pandolfo Malatesta, was defeated with great loss in the battle of Zagonara. A despairing appeal was made to Venice for assistance, and the intervention of Carmagnola saved Florence from annihilation. But the spoils of victory were monopolised by Venice, and the aggrandisement of their ally was by no means popular with the Florentines. The power of the oligarchy had rested upon the success of their foreign policy, and alarming discontent was the inevitable result of an unsuccessful war. Two important measures were resorted to in the hope of restoring the prestige of the dominant faction. The heavy expenses of the war had called attention to the old grievance of arbitrary taxation, and in 1427 a reform was introduced to provide a more |The Catasto of 1427.| equitable basis of assessment. According to Machiavelli, the acceptance of the Catasto, as it was called, was due to the influence of Giovanni de’ Medici. Every citizen was to report to the gonfalonier of his district his whole income from every source; and concealment was to be punished by confiscation. From fixed capital the income was to be estimated at seven per cent. These reports were to be collected into four books, one for each quarter of the city; and henceforth the assessment of taxation was to be determined by them instead of depending upon a man’s political position and opinions. As wealth fluctuated rapidly in a mercantile community, a new catasto was to be made every three years. It was a notable sacrifice on the part of the ruling clique, and probably tended to weaken their unanimity, but it helped to pacify public opinion for a time. Rinaldo degli Albizzi now came forward with a new scheme for restoring the credit of his party. Ever since the days of |Attack upon Lucca, 1430.| Castruccio Castracani, the annexation of Lucca had been a darling object of Florentine ambition. Lucca was, at this time, ruled by one of its own citizens—Paolo Guinigi—who had sided with Milan in the recent war. Rinaldo proposed to treat this as a pretext for attacking Lucca. It was in vain that Niccolo da Uzzano pointed out the risks of the enterprise. Giovanni de’ Medici was dead, and his son Cosimo supported the proposal of Rinaldo. His conduct on this occasion has exposed him to the suspicion that he foresaw the failure of the enterprise, and was willing to ruin his opponent even at the expense of the state. War was declared in 1430, and Rinaldo degli Albizzi was appointed one of the commissioners to superintend the siege of Lucca. The enterprise was as unsuccessful as it was unjust, and its failure was ultimately fatal to the party in power. Rinaldo, unjustly accused of peculation, threw up his command in disgust. The duke of Milan was drawn into the war, and the two most famous condottieri of the day—Francesco Sforza and Niccolo Piccinino—were employed in his service. After suffering serious reverses in the field, the Florentines were glad to accept the mediation of the emperor Sigismund, and in 1433 peace was made, leaving things as they were before the war.
But no treaty could restore the previous conditions within the city. Niccolo da Uzzano had died in 1432, and his death |Expulsion of the Medici, 1433.| deprived his party of their strongest support, while it removed the moderating influence on their conduct. Cosimo de’ Medici was at once more ambitious and less cautious than his father, and he and Rinaldo degli Albizzi were now avowed rivals for ascendency. The latter, conscious of his growing weakness, determined to have recourse to violence. In September 1433, when the signoria was composed of Rinaldo’s adherents, Cosimo de’ Medici was summoned to appear before the magistrates, and was imprisoned while his fate was deliberated upon. For some time it was generally expected that he would be put to death. But the wealth which his father had collected stood him in good stead, and his judges were not proof against corruption. The majority decided for a milder sentence. Cosimo was banished for ten years to Padua, and his brother Lorenzo for five years to Venice. Most of their prominent adherents shared their exile, and the Medici were declared incapable of holding any office in Florence.
The victory of Albizzi seemed to be assured when Cosimo went into exile in October 1433. The ordinary machinery of a Florentine coup d’état had been set in motion. The people had been convened in the piazza, and had approved the appointment of a balia or revolutionary committee. But by a strange oversight on the part of so experienced a partisan, Rinaldo had failed to obtain for this committee the right of refilling the bags with the names of candidates for office. The result was that the weakness of his position was only slightly modified. His own party was divided and inclined to be mutinous because the catasto was not abolished. And the alienation of public opinion by military failures could only be removed by some conspicuous success. In 1434 Florence became involved in a war in Romagna between Filippo Maria Visconti and the Pope. Again her troops were defeated in the field, and her ally, Eugenius IV., driven from Rome by the Colonnas, was forced to seek a refuge within her walls. In this moment of depression the accident of lot resulted in the formation of a signoria in September 1434, which was favourable to the Medici. Rinaldo |Recall of the Medici, 1434.| in his turn was summoned before a hostile magistracy, and he came accompanied by eight hundred armed men. But he lost the favourable opportunity for overawing his opponents by consenting to an interview with Eugenius IV., who had offered his mediation. This delay proved fatal. The popolo minuto took up arms and surrounded the piazza; while the signoria called in armed peasants from the country. The parliament created a balia in the interests of the party, which had for the moment the upper hand. The Medici and Alberti families were recalled and declared eligible for office. Rinaldo degli Albizzi with his son and about seventy partisans were banished from Florence, and few of them ever returned to their native city. Cosimo de’ Medici, who was in Venice when the news of this sudden revolution reached him, re-entered Florence on October 6, 1434. For the next three centuries the history of Florence is bound up with the history of the house of Medici.
The ascendency which the dramatic events of 1433 and 1434 gave to Cosimo de’ Medici was not only retained |Character of Medicean Rule.| during his life, but became for a time a hereditary possession. Yet it is impossible to point to any great apparent change in the constitution. The old magistracies and councils continued to exist and to fulfil their former functions. Cosimo was extremely careful to avoid any outward signs of despotism. He continued to live in his former residence; and nothing in his dress or his manner of life distinguished him from his fellow-citizens. Like his defeated rival, he surrounded himself with a sort of body-guard of allied families, whose interests he skilfully identified with his own. To all appearance this was as much an oligarchy as the government which it had displaced. The difference is to be found in two points. On the one hand Cosimo was enabled, partly by his wealth, and partly by his extensive foreign connections, to exercise a far stronger control over his adherents and over the state than either Maso or Rinaldo degli Albizzi had ever been able to wield. And, on the other hand, the influential families who rose to power under Cosimo did not represent the domination of a class as the rule of the Albizzi had done. The Medici never forgot that they owed their original rise to their championship of democratic equality; and they were careful to avoid any unnecessary collision with the prejudices of the mob. Even a disguised despotism must aim at the obliteration of classes, and this can be clearly traced in the policy of Cosimo. He transferred several families from the lesser to the greater guilds, and thus obscured a distinction which had been at one time of supereminent importance. And he even procured the repeal of the disqualifications against the old nobility on which the foundations of the historic municipality had been built.
It is not difficult to trace the methods by which Cosimo maintained the power which had fallen into his hands. He had two primary objects to attain: he must prevent |Methods of Cosimo’s Government.| the more important offices from falling into the hands of malcontents, and he must diminish their number by bringing home to them the hardships and dangers of opposition and the rewards that were to be gained by loyalty. Cosimo boasted of the humanity of his rule, and he was always careful to intrust to his followers the initiation of harsh proposals. But his policy was really one of proscription. The Albizzi and their allies were treated with the greatest severity. Not only were they banished, but their place of exile was constantly changed, and they were hunted about Italy like wild beasts. It was no wonder that their patriotism gave way to a desire for revenge, and they joined the duke of Milan against their native city. But the battle of Anghiari in 1440 destroyed all hope of success, while their treason gave a pretext for more merciless treatment. The financial administration was employed to the same ends. The catasto of 1427 was abolished, and the system of arbitrary assessment was revived. This enabled Cosimo to reward his adherents and to punish malcontents. Giannozzo Mannetti, a harmless student, whose only offence was his popularity, was called upon to pay taxes to the amount of 135,000 florins, and could only avoid ruin by going into voluntary exile. It was a common saying that Cosimo employed the taxes, as northern princes used the dagger, to rid himself of his opponents.
For the regulation of offices Cosimo employed the revolutionary machinery which was in theory the ultimate enforcement of popular sovereignty. The balia which had recalled the Medici in 1434 had received from the parliament full power to reform the state. Every five years this power was renewed—in 1439, 1444, 1449, and 1454. The most important act of the balia was the appointment of ten accoppiatori to superintend the filling of the bags with the names of those who were eligible for office. This was in itself a fairly ample assurance that no opposition to the Medici could be anticipated from the magistracy; and to make it doubly sure, the names of the gonfalonier and priors were selected every two months by the accoppiatori. They were made, as the phrase went, not by lot, but by hand. But as time went on, this prolonged departure from normal procedure gave rise to grumbling; and as there were good reasons for avoiding at the moment any appearance of disunion in the city, Cosimo determined to yield. In 1455 the balia, which had been renewed the year before, was abolished, and the practice of drawing the names of the signoria was revived. The concession was more apparent than real; for the bags had only recently been refilled, and three years would elapse before a new squittinio would be necessary. For that time the ascendency of the Medici party was secure, and before it had elapsed measures might be taken to prolong it. But that the revival of liberty was of some moment is proved by the proposal in the signoria of January 1458 to restore the catasto. Cosimo’s partisans urged him to employ energetic measures to defeat a scheme which attacked their own pockets. But he was not unwilling to teach them how dependent they were upon his support, and he allowed the system of strict and impartial assessment to be revived.
There was one very obvious danger to which such a government as that of Cosimo de’ Medici was exposed. Jealousy and ill-will might arise among his intimate associates. It was his deliberate policy to place them in prominent positions, and they were perforce intrusted with the secrets of his administration. One or more of them might seek to use their experience for their own advancement and to free themselves from the control of their patron. This danger was partially realised in Cosimo’s later years, and serious difficulties arose from the same source in the time of his son. In 1458 it had become a grave question how far the revival of republican freedom should be allowed to go. The death of Alfonso of Naples removed one great motive for continuing the conciliatory policy of the last three years; and the appointment to the gonfaloniership of Luca Pitti, one of the oldest and closest of Cosimo’s adherents, gave the opportunity for decisive action. After careful precautions had been taken to control the avenues to the piazza and to impress the mob, a parliament was convened by the ringing the great bell of the Palazzo Publico. A balia |Coup d’état of 1458.| of 350 citizens, together with the existing signoria, was endowed with full authority. Accoppiatori were appointed to fill the bags, and a permanent committee, the Otto di Balia, received the control of the civic police. By a curious irony it was announced to the people that the priors should henceforth be called, not priori delle arti, but priori della Liberta. The name was chosen, says Machiavelli, to designate what had been lost.
But in this revolution to confirm the previous revolution Cosimo had carefully abstained from taking any active share. In the eyes of the mob the victorious politician |Luca Pitti.| was Luca Pitti, who seemed to himself, as to others, to overshadow his employer. Puffed up with ambition, he began to build the magnificent palace on the southern side of the Arno, which, afterwards the residence of the grand-dukes of Tuscany, and now the shrine of one of the greatest picture galleries in the world, has done more than any political achievement to preserve to posterity the name of its founder. Cosimo was probably convinced that little real danger was to be dreaded from Luca Pitti, and he made no attempt to alter or correct the popular impression. As long as his influence was really unimpaired he cared little who had the appearance and pomp of supremacy.
As a great banker, Cosimo de’ Medici was an important personage in many foreign courts, quite apart from his |Cosimo’s Foreign Policy.| political position in Florence. With very notable dexterity he played his two parts so as to make each improve the other. He employed his financial relations to strengthen his hold upon the strings of Florentine policy, and he utilised his political influence to increase his business and his profits. It is in foreign affairs far more than in domestic administration that he showed himself to be the real ruler of Florence. He inherited from the Albizzi a struggle against Filippo Maria Visconti and an alliance with Venice. As long as the duke of Milan threatened the independence of Florence, and especially when he espoused the cause of the exiled Albizzi, Cosimo could not safely depart from the traditional policy of Florence. But the death of Filippo Maria in 1447 and the establishment of a republic in Milan gave him more scope for originality. He had to choose between the aggrandisement of Venice in Lombardy, which must have been the inevitable result of the maintenance of the Milanese republic, and the erection of a military power in Milan which should hold Venice in check. Without any hesitation he decided for the latter alternative, and the later history of Italy was vitally influenced by his choice. The financial and other aid which he received from Florence was one of the most potent factors in enabling Francesco Sforza to obtain the lordship of Milan in 1450, and to conclude the treaty of Lodi with Venice in 1454.
Another hardly less momentous question for Italy arose after the death of Alfonso V. of Naples, when in 1460 the Angevin claim was revived in antagonism to Ferrante. Although Florence was closely allied with France by her Guelf traditions and her commercial interests, Cosimo was resolute in his support of Ferrante and in urging Francesco Sforza to do the same. Again his attitude helped to turn the scale in a struggle where, for a time, the balance was undecided. He just lived to hear of the retirement of John of Calabria, which secured the bastard house of Aragon from serious attack for the next thirty years. By his action in these two great crises Cosimo must be regarded as the real author of that triple alliance between Naples, Milan, and Florence, of which his grandson in later years made such a masterly use.
Cosimo’s death in 1464 left the headship of the family to his only surviving son, Piero, who was already middle-aged |Piero de’ Medici and his opponents.| and in feeble health. The five years during which he survived his father are chiefly noteworthy because they witnessed the great split in the Medicean party, which careful observers must have seen for some time to be inevitable. Four of the most prominent associates of Cosimo—Luca Pitti, Diotisalvi Neroni, Angelo Acciaiuoli, and Niccolo Soderini—were unwilling to give to the son the deference which they had shown to the father. Luckily for the Medici, their unanimity did not go far. The first three were actuated by motives of personal ambition, which might easily lead them to quarrel with each other, while Niccolo Soderini was an enthusiast for democracy, and had no desire to humble Piero in order to exalt another in his place. Neroni was the ablest of the leaders, but he was lacking in personal courage, and preferred to employ intrigue and constitutional methods rather than violence. It was only gradually that two parties were organised in avowed opposition to each other. The anti-Medicean party received the nickname of the Mountain, because the great palace of Luca Pitti was rising on the hill of San Giorgio. The residence of the Medici stood on level ground to the north of the Arno, and hence Piero’s adherents were known as the Plain.
The first trial of strength took place in 1465, when the opposition made a bid for popularity by proposing to abolish the balia of 1458 and to restore the constitutional method of filling offices by lot. Piero was too cautious to oppose such a measure, and it was carried with virtual unanimity. In November the first draw took place, and Niccolo Soderini became gonfalonier. Disunion among the leaders prevented any use being made of the advantage which chance had given them, and Soderini went out of office at the end of December without having effected any further change in the constitution. In the next year the party strife was extended to foreign politics. Venice had never forgotten or forgiven the part which Florence had played in establishing the Sforzas in Milan. Now that Francesco was dead and succeeded by the more reckless Galeazzo Maria, there was some possibility of evicting a dynasty which was a perpetual bar to Venetian expansion in Lombardy. But to overthrow the Sforzas it was first necessary to overthrow the Medici. And so the leaders of the Mountain made overtures to Venice, regardless of the consideration that a complete reversal of foreign policy might damage the interests of Florence. The Venetians were too cautious to commit themselves to an alliance with a faction which might fail, and moreover they had the Turkish war on their hands. But there was a secret understanding that if Piero de’ Medici were got rid of, either by the dagger or by a revolution, his opponents would be aided by troops under Bartolommeo Coleone, a condottiere in the pay of Venice, and Ercole d’Este, brother of the duke of Ferrara.
Piero knew enough of these schemes to induce him to draw closer the alliance with Milan and Naples which his |Crisis of 1466.| father had bequeathed to him. His elder son, Lorenzo, received his first experience of diplomacy by being sent on an embassy to Ferrante. The news that Ercole d’Este had advanced in the direction of Pistoia brought matters to a crisis. Piero hurried to Florence from his villa at Careggi, and is said to have escaped an ambush on the way through the vigilance and acuteness of Lorenzo. Galeazzo Maria Sforza was invited to send troops to the assistance of Florence, and the peasants from the Medici estates were armed and brought into the city. On the other side Niccolo Soderini collected two hundred men who were kept in arms in the Pitti palace. Civil war seemed inevitable, but by a tacit agreement active violence was postponed till the new signoria was drawn at the end of August. Fortune or skill favoured the Medici, and a gonfalonier and priors devoted to their interests took up office on September 1. On the next day the great bell called the people to a parliament in the piazza. The armed adherents of Piero commanded every entrance, and the dissentients who obtained admission were too few or too timid to make themselves heard. A numerous balia was proposed by the signoria and approved by acclamation. For the next ten years the priors were to be made by hand. Neroni, Acciaiuolo, and Niccolo Soderini were banished. Luca Pitti, who had been bribed or persuaded to desert his associates, was allowed to remain, but his ostentation had made him unpopular, and he spent the rest of his life in harmless insignificance. His gigantic palace remained unfinished till it was completed by the Medici in the next century.
There still remained the danger of foreign intervention. Neroni, who had been banished to Sicily, defied the decree and repaired to Venice. It was decided to carry |Failure of the anti-Mediceans.| out the scheme which had been arranged in the previous year. Bartolommeo Coleone was to conduct in the interest of the exiles what was ostensibly a private enterprise. He was joined in the spring of 1467 by Ercole d’Este and several of the smaller princes of Romagna. Neapolitan and Milanese auxiliaries were sent to the aid of Florence, whose forces were under the supreme command of Federigo da Montefeltro, duke of Urbino. Italy watched with eager interest the progress of the campaign, which was conducted with the punctilious precision so dear to the professional soldier of Italy. There was a great deal of marching, but very little fighting and very little execution. The armies never came anywhere near Florence, whose fate was supposed to be at stake, and no decisive advantage was gained by either side. But this was in itself decisive enough. It was sufficient for the Medici to avoid defeat; the exiles could hope for nothing unless they gained a great victory. In 1468 peace was negotiated by Pope Paul II., leaving matters in statu quo. The exiles lost all hope of returning to Florence. Niccolo Soderini died in Germany in 1474; Neroni lived in Rome till 1482; Angelo Acciaiuoli entered a Carthusian monastery in Naples.
The struggle of 1466 and 1467 removed any possible doubt as to the position of the Medici. The whole aim of the opposition and their supporters had been to effect their overthrow, and the attempt had failed. They were undistinguished by any title, but they were as obviously the rulers of Florence as if they called themselves dukes or counts. This was made clear after the death of Piero de’ Medici on December 3, 1469. Tommaso Soderini, Niccolo’s brother, who had remained faithful during the recent crisis, convened a pratica or |Accession of Lorenzo.| informal meeting of the principal citizens. He proposed that Lorenzo de’ Medici, who was only twenty-one, and therefore below the legal age for holding any magistracy in the republic, should be invited to exercise the power that had been wielded by Cosimo and Piero. A deputation was chosen to carry the offer, which Lorenzo accepted after a becoming show of hesitation.
Lorenzo’s conduct shows that he was fully conscious of the altered position which events had enabled him to assume. Hitherto the Medici had been content to intermarry with Florentine families, and thus to recognise their equality of rank. But Lorenzo, as a prince, must seek a foreign bride, and he married Clarice Orsini, a daughter of the famous family of Roman nobles. Though his own tastes led him to show an interest in art and literature, and to encourage |Constitutional changes.| the amusements of the people, he was also inspired by the wish to establish a court on the lines which had become familiar in the principalities of Italy. In their intercourse with Lorenzo the Florentines showed a deference and even a servility which would have been deemed wholly out of place in the days of Cosimo and Piero. This growth of a monarchical element within the republic is probably the explanation of the numerous and obscure constitutional changes which were made or attempted in the early years of Lorenzo’s administration. Their essential object was to secure absolute control of appointments to the signory. In 1470 it was proposed that the accoppiatori should be chosen every year by a new college of forty-five, consisting of men who had discharged this function since the return of the Medici in 1434. The scheme was denounced as an attempt to subject the city to forty-five tyrants, and failed to pass the council of a hundred. In the next year, however, the same object was attained in a different way. The existing accoppiatori were associated with the sitting members of the signoria as a permanent committee, and the names which they proposed were to be carried in the Hundred by a bare majority, instead of by the usual majority of two-thirds. In the same year the legislative functions of the old councils of the people and of the commune were suspended for ten years. It is difficult to estimate the precise significance of these and other changes, but their general effect was to narrow the circle of families among whose members the more important offices circulated. This was certain to excite dissatisfaction; and among the malcontents we find the Pazzi, an old noble family which had devoted itself to commerce, and now became rivals of the Medici in business as well as in politics.
Events proved that discontent within Florence was not very formidable, unless it was reinforced by |Foreign policy.| difficulties in foreign relations. Lorenzo had been brought up by his grandfather to regard Milan and Naples as the normal allies of Florence, Venice as a dangerous rival of Florence and a resolute opponent of the Medici ascendency, and the papacy as a variable force depending on the idiosyncracies of rapidly changing popes, and requiring to be very carefully watched. Lorenzo had learned the lesson, but with the egotism and self-sufficiency of youth he was not disinclined to attempt a few experiments on his own account. If he could establish friendly relations with the papacy and with Venice, he might make his own position stronger than ever, and might pose as mediator and almost as arbiter in the relations of the Italian states. On the election of Sixtus IV. in 1471, Lorenzo went in person as Florentine envoy to carry the usual congratulations. He returned not only with a confirmation of his banking privileges in Rome, but with the lucrative appointment of receiver of the papal revenues. At the same time he opened negotiations with Venice, which led in 1474 to the embassy of Tommaso Soderini and the conclusion of an alliance between Venice, Milan, and Florence.
But these new connections were dearly purchased by the alienation of Naples. Ferrante regarded Venice as the inveterate enemy of his kingdom and his family. As long as the Medici had identified their interests with his own he had been eager to uphold |Alienation of Naples and quarrel with Sixtus IV.| their power in Florence. But a good understanding of Milan and Florence with Venice threatened Naples with isolation, and Ferrante must seek support elsewhere. Sixtus had already allowed the Neapolitan tribute to be commuted for a formal gift; and as the ties between Naples and the papacy were drawn closer, a coolness grew up between Sixtus and Lorenzo. The origin of the quarrel is to be found in the opposition of Florence to the aggrandisement of Girolamo Riario (see p. 282). Lorenzo refused to find the money for the purchase of Imola, and the Pope transferred the post of receiver-general from the Medici to the Pazzi. The dispute was speedily embittered. Sixtus appointed Francesco Salviati to the archbishopric of Pisa without consulting Lorenzo, and in defiance of his wishes. The Florentines, on their side, refused to admit the archbishop to his see; they supported the Vitelli in Citta di Castello, and in many ways showed an inclination to thwart the Pope’s schemes in Romagna. For some time, however, the dispute did not seem likely to lead to serious results. But the death of Galeazzo Maria Sforza in 1476, and the obvious weakness of the government of the regent, Bona of Savoy, encouraged the opponents of the Medici to bolder acts than they would have contemplated when Milan could give efficient support to Florence. In 1477 Girolamo Riario and Francesco Pazzi began to discuss in Rome |Conspiracy of the Pazzi.| how to overthrow a family which stood in the way of both of them. By the beginning of 1478 the main outlines of the conspiracy had been agreed to. Francesco Salviati and Jacopo Pazzi, the head of the family in Florence, had agreed to take part in the plot. It was understood that the Pope and the king of Naples would give active support, but they took no responsibilities for the actual means by which the desired end was to be attained. Assassination was a recognised weapon in Italian politics, and it was obviously difficult to effect a revolution in Florence without it. Sixtus IV. might plead that he was ignorant of this part of the design, but morally the plea is worthless. If the Medici government had been unpopular in Florence, it might have been possible to organise a rebellion and to overthrow them by means of a parliament. But there was no widespread discontent in the city, and the Pazzi had no strong following among either the lower or the wealthy classes. It was decided, therefore, to kill Lorenzo and his brother Giuliano, and to trust to the resultant confusion and foreign intervention. A number of hired mercenaries, headed by Giovanni Battista da Montesecco, were engaged to carry out the two immediate objects—the murder of the brothers and the seizure of the magistrates. It says much for the fidelity of the plotters that no one was found to betray the design, in spite of the discouragement caused by unavoidable delays. The great practical difficulty arose from the necessity of assassinating Lorenzo and Giuliano at the same moment, for fear that one might receive warning from the fate of the other. And unless both were removed, the plot would end in failure. At last the desired opportunity was offered by a banquet which the Medici gave in honour of Cardinal Raffaelle Riario, a great-nephew of the Pope. But Giuliano was too unwell to attend, and the time and place had to be altered. On Sunday, April 26, 1478, the two brothers were to be present at divine service in the cathedral, and the elevation of the host was to be the signal to the assassins. This gave rise to an unexpected difficulty. Montesecco, who had undertaken to slay Lorenzo, refused to commit sacrilege by shedding blood in a church, and two priests were chosen to take his place. But the priests, though they did not share the scruples, also lacked the strength and skill of the soldier. As the little altar bell tinkled, Giuliano was struck down, and Francesco Pazzi dealt the final deathblow. But Lorenzo was only wounded in the shoulder, and in the confused scuffle which followed he succeeded in escaping to the sacristy, where his friends closed the bronze doors in the face of the murderers. Elsewhere the conspirators were equally unsuccessful. Archbishop Salviati, who had gone to the Palazzo to superintend the seizure of the gonfalonier and priors, excited suspicion by his obvious agitation, and was seized with several of his followers. Jacopo Pazzi headed a procession through the streets with shouts of ‘Liberty,’ but the people raised the counter-cry of ‘Palle! Palle!’ in favour of the Medici, and the leaders of the demonstration were carried by the mob to the Palazzo. On the arrival of the news that Giuliano de’ Medici was dead, Francesco Pazzi, the archbishop of Pisa, and several other prisoners were promptly hanged from the windows. Vindictive severity was shown to the Pazzi and their allies. Guglielmo Pazzi, who had married Lorenzo’s sister, was the only member of the family who escaped. The two priests who had taken refuge in a monastery were dragged from their sanctuary by the mob and barbarously murdered. Montesecco had left Florence, but he was captured, and after giving evidence which implicated the Pope in the conspiracy, was executed. One of the murderers succeeded in reaching Constantinople, but even there the vengeance of the Medici was able to reach him. He was handed over by Mohammed II., and brought back to Florence, where in 1479 he shared the fate of his accomplices.
Within Florence all danger was at an end. The cowardly nature of the attack rallied public opinion to the Medici; and |War with Naples and the Papacy.| the death of a brother, who had hitherto enjoyed the larger share of popular favour, served to exalt the survivor and to remove from his way a possible rival. The fate of the conspirators was a striking object-lesson to future malcontents. But Lorenzo’s signal triumph only exasperated the foreign enemies whom his reckless policy had alienated. He had broken up the triple alliance, in which Florence served as a link between Milan and Naples, and had divided Italy into a northern and a southern league. These were now brought into collision by the failure of the Pazzi conspiracy. Both Sixtus IV. and Ferrante of Naples had good reasons for desiring the overthrow of Lorenzo, and these reasons were multiplied now that success had made him more formidable. The Pope, urged on by Girolamo Riario, and infuriated by the execution of an archbishop and the murder of priests, called upon the Florentines to banish Lorenzo, who was to be made the scapegoat for the crime of his opponents. The citizens refused to give up their leader, and published the confession of Montesecco. Sixtus laid the city under an interdict, and prepared for war. The papal troops under Federigo da Montefeltro and a Neapolitan army under Alfonso of Calabria marched into southern Tuscany, where the adhesion of Siena gave the invaders a convenient base of operations. Florence appealed to her allies, and obtained assistance from Milan under Gian Jacopo Trivulzio, and from Venice under Galeotto Pico of Mirandola. Ercole d’Este was appointed commander-in-chief for the republic. Great hopes were also entertained of the intervention of France, and Louis XI. despatched Philippe de Commines to Italy to try what diplomacy could effect in favour of Lorenzo de’ Medici.
In 1478 Florence made a creditable resistance against superior forces. The fortification of Poggio Imperiale blocked the Val d’Elsa, the most vulnerable approach to |Campaigns of 1478 and 1479.| the city; and when the disappointed invaders turned eastwards to the valley of the Chiana, they had only completed the preliminary operation of taking Monte San Savino when winter put an end to operations. But in the campaign of 1479 fortune turned decisively against the Florentines. A revolution in Milan, which was dexterously organised by Ferrante, not only compelled the withdrawal of the Milanese troops; but by substituting the rule of Ludovico Sforza for that of Bona of Savoy, detached Milan for a time from the Florentine alliance. The Turkish attack on Scutari, which reduced Venice to such straits that it was necessary to make the peace of Constantinople, and to refrain from any vigorous action in Italy, was also attributed by contemporary suspicion to the wily suggestions of the Neapolitan king. Worst of all, France would not take action. A few hundred French lances would have been worth far more than the threat of a general council which the Pope knew would not be carried out. Florence found herself isolated and exposed to a crushing attack. The plague broke out within the walls, Poggio Imperiale was stormed, and nothing but the ponderous tactics of a mercenary army saved the city from the necessity of an ignominious surrender. Lorenzo de’ Medici was in a very difficult position. In a sense the city was enduring these sufferings and risks on his behalf, and the loyalty of the citizens might give way under an intolerable strain. He sought and found a way out of the dilemma by an enterprise which his adherents and apologists have agreed to consider |Lorenzo goes to Naples.| heroic. In December 1479 he set out on an embassy to Naples. The fate of Jacopo Piccinino was sufficiently recent to convince people that it was dangerous to trust to the good faith of Ferrante, yet it is difficult to believe that Lorenzo undertook the journey without some fairly substantial assurance that there was less risk in it than appeared on the surface. After all, Ferrante had originally been the cordial friend of Lorenzo; and although he had since then taken offence, he might be appeased by a renewal of the old understanding. Events had proved that it was not worth while to alienate Naples in order to establish better relations with Venice, and Lorenzo was quite willing to do penance for his blunder. And the alliance between Naples and the Pope did not rest upon very substantial foundations. Lorenzo could point out that Sixtus only cared for the aggrandisement of his nephew, that he was already preparing to expel the Ordelaffii from Forli in order to give a duchy to Girolamo, and that a strong secular power in the papal states was by no means likely to benefit Naples. There was an ultimate argument in the relations of the Medici with France. The revival of the Angevin claim was a perpetual nightmare to Ferrante and his son, and it might well prove that the house of Aragon would find in a Florentine alliance a substantial bulwark to their throne. At all events, whether hazardous or not, the enterprise was successful. Lorenzo returned to Florence in 1480 with a treaty of |Conclusion of peace, 1480.| peace. It was not, of course, a very glorious agreement: the southern districts of Florentine territory were ceded to Siena, the allies in Romagna were left at the mercy of the Pope, and there was no provision for the restoration of the northern fortress of Sarzana, which had been seized during the war by the Fregosi of Genoa. But anything was better than the continuance of the war, and Lorenzo was hailed as the saviour of the state. It is true that there was a momentary reaction, when it was found that the Neapolitan forces were in no hurry to quit Tuscany, and that Alfonso was apparently taking advantage of party feuds in Siena to maintain a permanent foothold in the province. But the Turks intervened to checkmate any such design, and the occupation of Otranto compelled Alfonso and his troops to retire for the defence of their own territory. Even the obstinate Pope was forced to give way by the danger from the infidel. Sixtus ceased to insist that Lorenzo should make another more humiliating, and perhaps more perilous journey to Rome, and withdrew the interdict which he had launched against Florence for venturing to punish ecclesiastics for a flagrant crime.
The conspirators had failed, and foreign enemies had failed, to overthrow the Medici, and their failure necessarily strengthened the dynasty against which these strenuous |Constitutional changes in 1480.| attacks had been directed. In 1480 Lorenzo was able to carry through vital changes in the constitution which for the rest of his life secured his authority against serious attack. It is noteworthy that no use was made of the parliament, as on previous occasions, when revolutionary decrees had to be enacted. The proposals were made by the signoria and carried in the ordinary way through the three councils. A constituent body of thirty was nominated by the signory. These were to appoint a ‘greater council’ of two hundred and ten members, afterwards enlarged to two hundred and fifty-eight, who were to act as a temporary balia, having power to legislate and to control the filling of the bags with the names of suitable candidates for office. In order to secure a wide distribution of influence, no family, except two specially named, was to have more than three members on the council. By a far more important provision the thirty were to nominate another forty, and with them were to constitute a permanent Council or Senate, known as the Seventy. The Seventy held office for life, and filled vacancies by co-optation. From among them were to be chosen the two important executive committees—the Otto di Pratica, who took the place of the occasional committees of eight or ten whom it had been usual to appoint in time of war, and the Otto di Balia, who superintended the police of the city. The institution of the Seventy did not abolish any of the old magistracies and councils; these still continued as a means of rewarding supporters and flattering men’s love of importance. But it placed side by side with them what Florence had not for a long time possessed, a permanent machinery of government, and thus supplied the stability, the want of which had been the chief cause which raised the Medici to their anomalous and ill-defined position in the state. It was inevitable that the Seventy, with its two standing committees, should gradually draw into its hands the real power which could never be effectually employed by officials who changed every two months.
The troubles of the last three years had taught Lorenzo a lesson which he never forgot. The prompt punishment which followed his youthful errors in statecraft had been |Lorenzo’s later years.| an invaluable training to him. For the next twelve years the internal history of Florence is absolutely uneventful, a fact which is itself the best evidence of the capacity of its ruler. Freed from the fear of domestic opposition, Lorenzo could concentrate his attention on external affairs, and he became the foremost statesman in Italy. Reverting to the sound traditions which his grandfather had handed down, he maintained an alliance with Naples on the one side, and with Milan on the other, and was thus enabled to check the aggressive tendencies of Venice and the papacy, and at the same time to avert the danger of foreign intervention. In the war of Ferrara (1482-84) he was an active member of the coalition which saved the house of Este from annihilation, though he was chagrined that the interested defection of Ludovico Sforza enabled Venice not only to escape well-deserved punishment, but also to retain the polesina of Rovigo. In 1485 a more serious difficulty arose when the Neapolitan rebels, backed up by Innocent VIII., endeavoured to revive the Angevin claims. Florence had no love for the house of Aragon, and was closely connected by many ties with France. Fortunately, the appeal was made to Réné of Lorraine instead of to Charles VIII., and so Lorenzo could support the cause of Ferrante without any overt breach of the French alliance. And while engaged in these questions of high policy, Lorenzo never lost sight of the immediate interests of Florence. He took advantage of party feuds in Siena to procure the restoration of most of the territories which had been ceded in 1480. And he not only recovered Sarzana from Genoa, but he added to it the neighbouring fortresses of Pietrasanta and Sarzanella, thus giving to Florence a strong frontier on the ridge of the Apennines, which, if properly garrisoned, would have enabled the republic to check the invasion of Charles VIII.
In Lorenzo’s last years a new and momentous political problem was created by the growing alienation between Naples and Milan. Ludovico Sforza could not carry out his designs upon his nephew’s duchy without incurring |Importance of Lorenzo’s death.| the hostility of Ferrante and Alfonso; and upon Florence, as the middle state of the league, devolved the responsibility of mediating between her two allies. It was a task which required all Lorenzo’s tact, experience, and patience, and it may be doubted whether even he could have ultimately succeeded in averting a collision. It is just possible, however, that consummate prudence on the part of Florence might have prevented French intervention in Italy, and in that case the whole course of European history might have been altered. But in 1492, when the fate of Italy was trembling in the balance, Lorenzo died; and his death at this critical moment must be ranked with those other events—the discovery of America, the conquest of Granada, and the election of Alexander VI.—which make 1492 one of the most memorable years in the history of Europe.
Enough has been said of the Florentine constitution to show that the power of the Medici did not rest upon very solid foundations. They had no military force |Recklessness of Piero de’ Medici.| behind them; none of the ordinary securities on which a despotism must rely for its permanence. They ruled, partly because they supplied an element of stability, which the civic constitution notoriously lacked, partly because they maintained the credit and the influence of the state in Italy and in Europe, but mainly because they had managed to conciliate the interests and the allegiance of a majority of the citizens. But if the Florentines once felt that their own interests and the security of the republic were endangered by the ascendency of the Medici, that ascendency must inevitably fall. And this was precisely the impression which Piero, Lorenzo’s eldest son, set himself to produce. Discarding all pretence of civic equality, he indulged in the airs and pretensions of a prince born in the purple. And while his haughtiness disgusted the mass of the citizens, he made no effort to retain the support of the prominent families with whom his father had lived on familiar terms. But his most fatal blunder was in foreign relations. His mother was an Orsini, and his wife was an Orsini, and under the influence of his foreign relatives he abandoned the mediating position of Lorenzo, and allied himself unconditionally with the rulers of Naples. This action had a double result. It completed the exasperation of the Florentines, who had never loved the Neapolitan alliance even when their trust in the wisdom of Cosimo or Lorenzo had convinced them that it was to their interest to adhere to it. And it drove Ludovico Sforza into that desperate appeal to France which was the immediate cause of Charles VIII.’s invasion. When the French came, Piero showed himself to be pusillanimous as well as incompetent. He took no steps to hold the defensible passes of the Apennines against the invaders; and when they had reached Pisa, he sought to disarm their hostility by a more ruinous surrender than the most extreme supporter of a French alliance would have advocated. The patience of the citizens was exhausted; and Piero’s flight was followed by the expulsion of his family and the restoration for a few troubled years of republican independence in Florence.