AT THE START of September 1433 the new gonfaloniere and his Signoria were duly installed in the Palazzo della Signoria, whereupon an official message was despatched to Cosimo de’ Medici in the Mugello, requiring him to return forthwith to Florence and present himself before the Signoria for ‘some important decisions to be made’. Cosimo at once set out for Florence ‘though many friends dissuaded him from it’, according to Machiavelli in his somewhat partisan History of Florence, whose description of the ensuing events drew heavily on eyewitness accounts spiced with generally accepted gossip. According to the equally biased diary of these events written down by Cosimo himself some time later, he arrived in Florence on 4 September and went straight away to see Gonfaloniere Bernardo Guadagni and the members of his Signoria at the Palazzo della Signoria. Cosimo at once brought up the worrying rumours that had been reaching him in the Mugello – namely, that the Signoria was planning a revolution in Florence, with the aim of seizing his property and destroying him. But, in Cosimo’s words: ‘When I told them what I had heard, they denied it, and told me to be of good cheer, as they hoped to leave the city in the same condition as they had found it when their time was up.’ If he had any worries, he should voice them at the meeting of the Signoria in three days’ time, which he was invited to attend.
Cosimo left, and proceeded to the premises of the bank in the nearby Via Porta Rossa, where he made arrangements for the trusted Lippaccio de’ Bardi, Contessina’s cousin, to take over as general manager of the entire Medici Bank and see it through any future events. Three days later, on the morning of 7 September, Cosimo duly arrived at the Palazzo della Signoria, and was surprised to find that the Signoria was already in session. He was escorted up the stairs by the captain of the guard and his men-at-arms, but to his consternation they led him past the closed door where the meeting was taking place, and up the stairs into the tower. Here he was hustled up the dark stone steps to the very top of the 300-foot tower, and thrust into the poky cell popularly known by the citizens of Florence as the alberghetto (the little inn).
Fig 4 Palazzo della Signoria (now Palazzo Vecchio)
As Cosimo wrote: ‘On hearing of this, the whole city rose up.’ This is at best an exaggeration: what in fact happened was that Rinaldo degli Albizzi ordered his son and a band of armed followers to occupy the piazza in front of the palazzo, to make a show of strength and dissuade any potential protesters, or any attempts to rescue Cosimo. Inside the palazzo it was a different picture. The Signoria and the palace guard were in a panic, alarmed at the enormity of what they had done, and in the words of an eyewitness there were ‘arms everywhere; some ran upstairs, some down, some talked, some shouted; everything was full of passion, excitement, and fear’. Eventually Rinaldo degli Albizzi managed to regain some sort of order, the gonfaloniere and his Signoria met and were prevailed upon to pass sentence on Cosimo. The prisoner was charged with ‘attempting to raise himself above the rank of an ordinary citizen, an apparently innocuous charge, though in fact one of the most serious that could be brought against a citizen of the Florentine Republic, carrying the death penalty. Cited as confirmation of the charge against Cosimo was the palazzo that he was building for himself on the Via Larga; for despite Cosimo’s precautions concerning the design, it was described as being far too ostentatious to house any ordinary citizen of the republic, and much more like the palace of a potential tyrant. The message implied in the charge was clear: Cosimo de’ Medici was planning to take over the city – he was a traitor, and deserved a traitor’s fate.
In the event, the Signoria proved too terrified to pass the death penalty that Rinaldo had demanded, and instead sentenced Cosimo to banishment from the city for five years. Meanwhile Cosimo crouched in his cell, peering apprehensively down at the clamour of armed men in the piazza far below; he did not know exactly what was happening, but feared the worst. By now his imagination was running away with him: they might not even execute him, but instead simply have him thrown from the top of the tower – such things had happened before.
When the jailer pulled open the cell door to read the prisoner his sentence, reliable sources report that Cosimo ‘fell into a swoon’. This episode is not mentioned in Cosimo’s diary, though he does describe other reactions to his sentence: ‘This decision was at once made known to my brother Lorenzo, who was in the Mugello, and to Averardo, my cousin, who was at Pisa . . . Lorenzo came to Florence that same day, and the Signoria sent for him, but he, being warned why they wanted him, left at once, and returned to Il Trebbio. Averardo also left Pisa in haste, as they had given orders to seize him. Had they taken us all three, we should have been in evil plight.’ Cosimo goes on to mention that: ‘The news was also sent to Niccolò da Tolentino, captain of the Commune, who was my good friend.’ The significance of this news would only later become apparent.
Cosimo remained incarcerated, while Rinaldo degli Albizzi persisted with his efforts to force the death penalty – or settle matters in his own way. During this terrifying period Cosimo did not eat for two days, fearing that his food would be poisoned; and his fears appear to have been justified, as it is now known that Rinaldo secretly paid two members of the guard to poison Cosimo at the earliest opportunity.
On 9 September Cosimo was stunned by the sound of the palazzo bell sounding above his head in the belfry of the tower. This large bell was known as the vacca (cow), on account of the mooing boom that rang out over the city when it was pealed to summon the citizens of Florence to the Piazza della Signoria in an emergency. This gathering of all citizens eligible to vote was known as a Parlamento – the Italian word aptly catches the aspects of both parley and parliament: this was a meeting where citizens spoke and voted on matters of crucial importance for the government of the city, including changes to the constitution. But this time Rinaldo degli Albizzi’s armed men had mounted guard at each street leading into the wide piazza, and all citizens who were known to be Medici supporters (or even judged likely to support their cause) were turned back. Cosimo watched helplessly from his tiny cell window high in the tower of the palazzo; the Albizzi were evidently taking no chances, and according to Cosimo, only twenty-three people were allowed into the piazza to form the Parlamento.
In the customary manner, the members of the Signoria assembled on the raised stone terrace in front of the palazzo, and the gonfaloniere formally asked the assembled Parlamento to vote on whether a Balía should be set up ‘to reform the city for the good of the people’. The Balía was a committee of 200 citizens, newly selected on each occasion, which was required to sanction all changes to the constitution of the city, or important decisions taken in the city’s name. The twenty-three assembled yes-men of the Parlamento duly shouted ‘Si! Si!’, a Balía was agreed upon and immediately the Albizzi faction began preparing the lists, making sure that when the Balía met it would be packed with their men.
Machiavelli vividly brings to life how Cosimo remained confined in his cell, with one Federigo Malavolti as his jailer:
In this place, hearing the assembly of the Councils, the noise of arms which proceeded from the piazza, and the frequent ringing of the bell to assemble the Balía, he was greatly apprehensive for his safety, but still more lest his private enemies should cause him to be put to death in some unusual manner. He scarcely took any food, so that in four days he ate only a small quantity of bread. Federigo, observing his anxiety, said to him, ‘Cosimo, you are afraid of being poisoned, and are evidently hastening your end with hunger. You wrong me if you think I would be party to such an atrocious act. I do not imagine your life to be in danger, since you have so many friends both within the palace and without; but if you should eventually lose it, be assured they will use some other medium than myself for that purpose, for I will never imbue my hands in the blood of any, still less in yours, who never injured me; therefore cheer up, take some food, and preserve your life for your friends and your country. And that you may do so with greater assurance, I will partake of your meals with you.’ These words were a great relief to Cosimo, who, with tears in his eyes, embraced and kissed Federigo, earnestly thanking him for so kind and affectionate conduct, and promising, if ever the opportunity were given him, he would not be ungrateful.
After this Cosimo slowly began to regain his composure, and when he was given his dinner Federigo brought in someone to keep him company and cheer him up, a local character called Il Farnagaccio (an affectionate nickname, loosely translated as ‘The Crazy Guy’). Cosimo knew Il Farnagaccio well, and also knew that he was a friend of Gonfaloniere Guadagni, so while Federigo the jailer tactfully absented himself, Cosimo passed a piece of paper to Il Farnagaccio. Cosimo told him to go at once to the director of the Santa Maria Nuova Hospital; on receipt of the note, the director would give him 1,100 Venetian ducats. II Farnagaccio was instructed to keep 100 ducats for himself, and then pass on the rest as discreetly as possible to Gonfaloniere Guadagni.
Meanwhile a stormy meeting of the Balía was under way, for despite the strongest possible urging from Rinaldo degli Albizzi, they were reluctant to come to a decision, and many of the 200 hand-picked members were starting to have second thoughts about what was expected of them. Amidst an uproar of arguments the Balía was beginning to separate into factions, and according to Machiavelli, some ‘urged Cosimo’s death, some his exile, some were silent, either out of compassion for him or out of fear’. Eventually order was restored, and the Balía voted that Cosimo should be banished for ten years. Whilst apparently accepting this decision, Rinaldo degli Albizzi now decided that it was time to take matters into his own hands.
Though still imprisoned in his cell, Cosimo soon learned further news about what was happening outside the city: his good friend’ Niccolò da Tolentino had acted according to prearranged instructions and immediately summoned his company of armed mercenaries; they had then marched from Pisa up the Po valley to Lastra, just six miles from the walls of Florence. Here they had halted, hoping for an uprising in the city, fearful that if they marched any closer they might precipitate the murder of Cosimo. By now the news of Cosimo’s arrest had also spread through the mountains of the Romagna, above and beyond the Medici stronghold in the Mugello, and in response many of the local peasants had taken up arms and flocked to Lorenzo’s support, gathering outside the fortified villa of Il Trebbio where he and his family had taken refuge. But Lorenzo was advised not to make a move on the city, for fear of what might befall Cosimo – though when Cosimo heard that his brother had heeded this advice, his fragile composure broke into exasperated rage. In his own words: Although this advice was given by relations and friends, and in all sincerity, yet it was not good, for had they advanced at once I should have been free, and he who was the cause of it all would have been undone.’
While Cosimo’s would-be rescuers dithered, Rinaldo degli Albizzi moved into action, despatching armed men to round up and imprison a number of well-known Medici supporters, amongst whom was Cosimo’s friend, the humanist poet and notary Niccolò Tinucci, who was immediately put to torture. After several gruesome hours on the rack, Tinucci finally broke down and was made to sign a confession, stating that Cosimo had intended to foment a revolution in Florence with the aid of foreign troops, after which he planned to install himself as tyrant. Here at last was incontrovertible evidence of treason, and Rinaldo degli Albizzi knew that for this offence there could be no question of banishment; this was undeniably a hanging offence.
But by now word of Cosimo’s fate had spread far beyond the borders of the Florentine Republic and was meeting with an international response. Cosimo’s services as a banker had proved indispensable to several foreign powers, who quickly made their feelings plain: the first to respond was the ruler of nearby Ferrara, who had good reason to be grateful to Cosimo for extensive loans and was outraged at this blow to his potential expenditure. A message in the strongest possible terms was despatched by fast messenger seventy miles down the road to Florence – but both Rinaldo degli Albizzi and Cosimo de’ Medici were well aware that this could be ignored: Ferrara was not a major power.
Venice, on the other hand, was a more difficult proposition for Rinaldo. A branch of the Medici Bank had been established in the Venetian Republic as early as 1402, and by now the bank had become deeply involved in the far-flung trade of the Venetian Republic – dealing in wool from Valencia, and handling spice and amber shipped in from the Orient by Venetian merchants. The libro segreto for 1427 shows that the Venetian branch had a turnover equivalent to 50,568 florins, a colossal sum – generating a profit equivalent to 4,080 florins – that is, around 8 per cent). The merchants who dealt with the Medici Bank were among the leading families of the Venetian Republic, and a delegation consisting of three ambassadors was sent post-haste to Florence with orders to secure the immediate release of Cosimo de’ Medici.
A similar response came from Rome, for Pope Eugenius IV was the son of a Venetian merchant and well knew of Cosimo’s beneficial involvement in the city’s commerce. More importantly, Cosimo was also the papal banker. Eugenius IV sent word to Florence ordering intervention on Cosimo’s behalf by the local papal representative, who happened to be Ambrogio Traversari, Cosimo’s humanist friend who had translated several of his rare manuscripts. When Traversari demanded to know why Cosimo had been imprisoned, he was informed of Niccolò Tinucci’s confession that Cosimo was planning to take over the city with the aid of foreign troops. Not for one moment did Traversari believe this ‘confession’ by his fellow humanist and friend, and the three Venetian ambassadors were similarly unimpressed with such flimsy evidence – all were by now well aware of how it had been obtained.
A meeting of the gonfaloniere and his Signoria was called, but by this stage Gonfaloniere Guadagni had gratefully accepted his 1,000 ducats from Cosimo and decided it would be wiser to hedge his bets; while a number of others on the Signoria had accepted lesser bribes from the same source. As Cosimo remarked in his diary: They had small intelligence, for they might have had 10,000 or more for allowing me to escape from peril.’ Gonfaloniere Guadagni informed the Signoria that he was too ill to attend the meeting, and delegated his vote to another member (who also happened to have been bribed by Cosimo).
Rinaldo degli Albizzi was quick to recognise what was happening, and was also pressingly aware of the effect on the city of Niccolò da Tolentino and his mercenary troops waiting at Lastra. He knew he had to act quickly, and decisively, before all his support melted away, for if Cosimo got off scot-free, as now seemed possible, then it would be the Albizzi who would be fighting for their lives. On 28 September yet another meeting of the ruling Signoria was called, for Rinaldo knew that despite Cosimo’s bribes, in the last resort the Albizzi still had a firm hold on seven members out of the nine. The Signoria decided once again that Cosimo should be banished, to Padua, for ten years, together with other leading members of the Medici family: Averardo to Naples for ten years, Lorenzo to Venice for five years, and others for varying terms. Futhermore, the Medici faction was to be excluded for ever from holding any public office in the city. At a stroke, the Medici power in Florence had been emasculated, and afterwards a grateful Rinaldo degli Albizzi assured the seven loyal members of the Signoria that they would be appointed to suitable sinecures as a reward.
On 3 October Cosimo de’ Medici was led down from his cell and escorted by armed guards to face the Signoria, where his sentence was formally read out to him. Opinions differ as to precisely how Cosimo reacted to this. According to Machiavelli (a staunch supporter of the Medici): ‘Cosimo received his sentence with a cheerful look.’ On the other hand, the modern historian Christopher Hibbert (with no axe to grind) takes a different view: judging from his own interpretation of the conflicting reports, he describes Cosimo as being ‘abject’, commenting that his ‘many virtues seem not to have included physical courage’.
But was there perhaps more to all this than meets the eye? In Cosimo’s reply to the Signoria, he declared that he was willing to go into exile wherever they chose to send him, even ‘to live among the Arabs, or any other people alien to our custom’. He went on: ‘As disaster comes to me by your orders, I accept it as a boon, and as a benefit to me and my belongings.’ This certainly sounds like grovelling behaviour, yet it soon becomes clear that Cosimo was in fact pleading for his life, as is evident from his final request to the Signoria: ‘Have a care that those who stand outside in the piazza with arms in their hands anxiously desiring my blood, should not have their way with me.’ Adding, with a sting in the tail, that should he die: ‘My pain would be small, but you would earn perpetual infamy.’ Having cajoled the Signoria, he was now plainly warning them of the consequences, should he be ‘accidentally’ stabbed in the mêlée by one of the Albizzi supporters waiting outside as he was escorted across the piazza. He had guessed what Rinaldo degli Albizzi had in store for him, and there is every reason to believe that Cosimo had guessed right.
His words of warning evidently had their effect on the Signoria, for they realised that if Cosimo was assassinated there might be heavy blood-shed. Florence was already in turmoil, Niccolò da Tolentino and his mercenaries were liable to march on the city, and the ruling oligarchy would flood the streets with armed men. There was no telling how it would end. The Signoria gave instructions that Cosimo should be held at the Palazzo della Signoria until nightfall and the crowd in the piazza had dispersed. Under cover of darkness, and protected by the palace guards, he could then be smuggled through the streets to the northern gate in the city walls, the Porta San Gallo, from where he would be taken under armed guard the forty miles north-east to the border of the Florentine Republic. On 5 October 1433 Cosimo de’ Medici was escorted up the high mountain pass below the snow-streaked peak of Mount Cimone as far as the frontier, where he rode on into exile.