Part 12

The Archdeacon was at the point of death, but he is so much better that it is not expected he will die of this illness. I highly approve of thy thought of Pellegrino, and if the occasion had arisen would have shown him how greatly I desire to please and to serve him. When thou seest the Bishop of Raugia commend me to him, and also to Messer Lionardo Dati. No more. Christ guard thee.--On the 22nd day of March 1465 (1466).[105]

After the conspiracy against Piero de’ Medici had been discovered, Agnolo Acciaiuoli fled to Siena on his way to Naples. There he waited some time in the vain hope that Piero would relent and permit him to return to Florence. At last he wrote the following letter, which as given by Fabroni, who copied from the archives, differs somewhat from the more literary version given by Machiavelli.

Agnolo Acciaiuoli _to_ Piero de’ Medici. _Siena, 17th Sept. 1466_

_Spectabilis vir Frater honorande_,--I laugh at what I see. God has put it in thy power to cancel all the debts I have against thee, and thou dost not know how to do it. I lost my country and my estates for thy father, thou art in the position to restore all to me. I prevented his being despoiled, now corn and other belongings are taken from me; thou canst save them; be not tardy in showing thou art not ungrateful; I do not say this for my belongings, although I have need of them, so much as for thy reputation. I commend myself to thee.[106]

Piero de’ Medici _to_ Agnolo Acciaiuoli. _Florence, 22nd Sept. 1466_

_Magnifice eques tanquam Pater honorande_,--Your laughter is the cause of my not shedding tears, although I am sorry for your ill fortune. You have not shown your accustomed good sense, which in such cases is necessary. Your guilt, as I said in a former letter, is manifest and so great that neither my intercession nor that of any other person would be of any avail. My nature is to forget and forgive you, and all who have shown me enmity and hostility. I have pardoned every offence; the Republic cannot and may not lightly do so on account of the bad example, as you know better than I, having had experience of such matters and having proclaimed it in public and in private. You say you were exiled on my father’s account, and for having saved what belonged to him. I do not deny your friendship with my father and with us, which ought to have made you regard me as a son, and as such I considered myself. You were banished with my father and were recalled with him, according to the pleasure of the Republic, which has full power over us. I do not conceive that our friendship was in any way hurtful or dishonourable to you as can be clearly demonstrated, and if obligations and benefits were weighed, perhaps the scale would not be equal, although from what you write you do not seem to think so. I always considered myself beholden to you, but if you examine your conscience you will see that you have exempted me from any obligations; nevertheless I am willing to remain your debtor in so far as it touches me privately, but the public injury I cannot, will not, and may not pardon. For myself personally I forget everything, forgive all wrongs, and remain as a son ought to be towards such a father.[107]

In 1466 Piero de’ Medici’s daughter Nannina was married to Bernardo Rucellai, son of Giovanni, who built the beautiful palazzo Rucellai after the designs of his friend Leon Battista Alberti. Giovanni spent 3686 golden florins on the festivities for his son’s wedding, and for three days the Florentines danced, ate, drank and listened to music, in Via della Vigna Nuova. The street, and the loggia (one of the few still existing in Florence), which was temporarily enlarged so as to cover the small triangular square in front of the palace, were hung with blue cloth and decorated with flowers. One of Nannina’s sons, Giovanni, is well known as the author of _Rosmunda_ and of _Le Api_, the poetical gifts of Lucrezia thus descending to a second generation.

Luigi Pulci, _from Pisa_, _to_ Lorenzo de’ Medici _at Florence_

_Salve_, &c. I send thee some poems so that thou mayst remember me. I have a thousand phantasies in my head which thou shalt hear some day and which will please thee. The poem is nearly finished; then we must do a more important work, and perhaps three nymphs, who are here, will come to be judged by a better man than Paris, and we will bestow the prize to our liking. Whoever is ill pleased shall pay the expenses of a ball; but I mean to prepare a triumph which shall be praised by thee and that for me is always sufficient.

I have nought to say save that I am thine as ever. _Scriptum est._ Commend me to the Magnificent Piero and to Madonna Lucrezia, and to all at home. _Salutam Vale, et me dilige._--From Pisa, January 12, 1466 (1467). _Tuus servitor_,

Aloysius Pulcher.

This day Tanai[108] and his wife with about a hundred horse entered Pisa in great triumph, and _Palle_ resounded everywhere; we shall amuse ourselves and talk much of thee.[109]

Several brides had been proposed for Lorenzo, and at last Piero decided for a daughter of the proud house of Orsini. The suggestion was first made by his brother-in-law Giovanni Tornabuoni, head of the Medici bank at Rome, and treasurer to Sixtus IV. But Lucrezia insisted on seeing the girl with her own eyes before coming to a final decision, and in March 1467 set out for Rome, from whence she wrote to her husband:

Lucrezia de’ Medici _to her husband_ Piero

On the way I wrote to thee often and told thee about the roads. I arrived on Thursday, and was received with much joy by Giovanni, as thou canst imagine. I have had thy letter of the 21st which consoled me greatly, hearing that the pains had ceased. But every day seems to me a year until I return for thy and my consolation.

On the way to S. Peter on Thursday morning I met Madonna Maddalena Orsini, sister to the Cardinal [Latino Orsini], with her daughter, who is about fifteen or sixteen years old. She was dressed in the Roman fashion with a _lenzuolo_ [long loose shawl or cloak]. In this dress she seemed to me handsome, fair, and tall, but being so covered up I could not see her to my satisfaction. Yesterday I paid a visit to the said Monsignor Orsini in his sister’s house, which adjoins his. When I had saluted him in thy name his sister came in with the maiden, who had on a tight frock of the fashion of Rome without the _lenzuolo_. We talked for some time and I looked closely at the girl. As I said she is of good height and has a nice complexion, her manners are gentle, though not so winning as those of our girls, but she is very modest and would soon learn our customs. She has not fair hair, because here there are no fair women; her hair is reddish and abundant, her face rather round, but it does not displease me. Her throat is fairly elegant, but it seems to me a little meagre, or to speak better, slight. Her bosom I could not see, as here the women are entirely covered up, but it appeared to me of good proportions. She does not carry her head proudly like our girls, but pokes it a little forward; I think she was shy, indeed I see no fault in her save shyness. Her hands are long and delicate. In short I think the girl is much above the common, though she cannot compare with Maria, Lucrezia, and Bianca.[110] Lorenzo has seen her and thou canst find out whether she pleases him. Whatever thou and he determine will be well done, and I shall be content. Let us leave the issue to God.

The girl’s father is Signor Jacopo Orsini of Monte Rotondo, and her mother is the Cardinal’s sister. She has two brothers; one a soldier in the good graces of Signor Orso, the other a priest, sub-deacon of the Pope. They own the half of Monte Rotondo, the other half belongs to their uncle, who has two sons and three daughters. Besides this there are three other castles belonging to her brothers, and as far as I can learn they are otherwise well provided. They will be still better off in the future because besides the Cardinal, the Archbishop, Napoleon, and the Cavalier, being their uncles on the mother’s side, they are cousins through the father, who is a second cousin in direct line of the aforesaid gentlemen, and they are all very fond of them. This is what I have heard. If before treating this matter it seems well to thee to await our return do as thou thinkest best.

I intend to leave on Monday week and shall write on the way. So I shall be at home at the time fixed. I pray God in His mercy to guide me safely and to keep thee in good health. I do not write to Madonna Contessina, it seems to me useless. Commend me to her and salute the girls and Lorenzo and Giuliano.--In Rome, 27th March 1467.

Thy Lucrezia.

A few days later Lucrezia wrote again on the subject which engrossed all her thoughts:

Lucrezia de’ Medici _to her husband_ Piero

As I told thee in my last letter dictated to Giovanni, our seeing the girl was managed quietly, without ceremony; so should nothing come of it thou wilt lose nought, as there has been no parleying. The maiden has two good qualities, she is tall and fair; her face is not pretty, but it is not common, and her figure is good. Lorenzo has seen her, find out whether she pleases him, there are so many advantages that if he likes her we may be content. Her name is Crarice.

Thy Lucrezia.

Like a true Florentine, Lucrezia turns the _l_ in Clarice into an _r_. Lorenzo had seen the girl without her mother’s knowledge one day at mass. On the homeward journey Lucrezia writes in answer to a letter from her husband:

Lucrezia de’ Medici _to her husband_ Piero

I have thy letter by Donnino and see the determination thou hast taken, which pleases me. I am sure when I get home and tell thee all thou wilt be well satisfied, particularly as Lorenzo is pleased. We did not see the girl again, but that does not surprise me. Thou sayest I write coldly about her: I do it not to raise thy hopes too high: there is no handsomer girl at present unmarried in Florence. On my return I will tell thee all, and as I said before we shall be able to arrange matters, so at present I will say no more. I arrived here very tired, the road was so bad, and we had so much rain that little was left of me, but after resting I am well. We were to have left on Monday, but it does nothing but rain, so they have persuaded me to wait a little. All is ready, and as soon as the weather is favourable we shall start, for it seems to me a thousand years since I left. I commend myself unto thee.--April 1, 1467.

Thy Lucrezia.[111]

The long journey and the damp told on Lucrezia who was never strong, and at Foligno she fell seriously ill.

Lucrezia de’ Medici _to her husband_ Piero

I know not, she writes, whether it is thanks to these doctors or to thy letter received last night, but this morning I felt so well that I hope to set forth in three days. Maestro Girolamo will tell thee exactly the state of my health, which I think will content thee. I only lament the many annoyances I have caused thee on my journey. But believe me, wherever I might have been I should have been ill, for I have brought up much phlegm and nastiness which must have been there for a long time. Commend me to Mona Contessina and beg her to have patience, for soon, as soon as it pleases these doctors, I shall return to her and maybe she will take better care of me, though here, thanks be to God, I have wanted for nothing. I know not whether I should even have had such conveniences at home, certainly not at Rome. If it seems good to thee that I should send back Messer Gentile for Giuliano let me know before we start.[112] I shall wait to get quite well as thou sayest, and to recoup. Meanwhile and always I commend myself to thee and beg thee to be patient with me.--In Foligno, May 4, 1467, at 1 o’clock.

Thy Lucrezia.

Yesterday and last night I slept, as the Maestro will have told thee, as though quite well.[113]

After her return to Florence the doctors sent Lucrezia early in September to Bagno a Morba, a place already mentioned in earlier pages. But here, where several letters are given written by Lucrezia from that celebrated spring, a few words may be added on the bathing habits of the fifteenth century to show how large a part they played in the social life of the time. For it is a delusion to think that the frequent use of water, cold or hot, is a modern virtue. It is true that from the middle of the sixteenth century till the end of the eighteenth men and women washed but sparingly. Marguerite de Valois could say to her lover, “See these fair hands. Though they have not been washed for eight days, they are cleaner than yours.” Manuals of Etiquette, published in 1667 and in 1782, recommend ladies and gentlemen to clean their faces with a dry white linen cloth, because to wash the face with water makes it more susceptible to cold in winter and to tan in summer. But in the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries the use of water was nearly as common as it is now. The whole population, whether north or south of the Alps, rejoiced in bathing. They used cold baths, hot baths, and steam baths; they gathered to bathe in mineral water; above all they delighted in baths when the water came from hot springs, and those were most prized which were strongly impregnated with sulphur, as was the case at Morba. The site of many an Italian monastery was selected simply because it was near enough a hot spring for the monks to enjoy what was looked on almost as necessary to healthy living. Indeed one of the punishments inflicted on unruly members of the community was a prohibition to use the bath. The Italian doctors distinguished between _Stupha_, or hot air, and _Balneum_, or hot water baths. Rubbing and even scratching whilst bathing was recommended, and Arnaldo di Villa Nuova (1300-1366) ordered his elderly patients to be well rubbed when in the water, and to take a herb-bath four times a month. Soap, and sometimes lye, was used, and Italian soap was in great request, particularly in Germany.

The hot sulphur springs of Morba had been known for centuries, and belonged to the Commune of Volterra, as is mentioned in a document of 1297. They lie some ten miles south of the old Etruscan city, in that part of the Apennines dominated by the imposing Monte Cerbole, in a region which then and now produced borax and alum. The wild desolate scenery gave rise to legends. It was said that on stormy nights a fiery chariot drawn by fiery horses rushes along the mountain side, and then with a terrific noise which drowns thunder and wind, dashes down into the valley leading to the lagoons of Larderello, which were supposed to be the mouths of hell, and disappears. After the apparition of the chariot, the jets of white sulphureous smoke which always rise more or less from the grey soil are more dense and hiss like great serpents as they curl upwards to the sky. It is altogether an uncanny place. Here and there the black mud bubbles and boils, rising up in small cones which subside with a strange rumbling noise like the hoarse barking or growling of a distant watchdog. The ground sounds hollow under foot, and shakes if you walk near any of the blowholes, while the smell of rotten eggs, so characteristic of sulphur springs, is overpowering,

## particularly after rain.

The famous baths are not far off. They had been largely deserted, conduits broken, bathing-houses tumbling down, everything neglected and falling to ruin. The sulphureous springs, left to find their way through the rocks and the soil, were wasted and produced nothing but evil-smelling ooze. When the Florentines became masters of Volterra they sent Doctor Ugolino da Montecatini with their Chancellor Colucci da Salutati to report on the virtues of the waters in 1388. Something was done to render the baths useful and productive. The village with its small castle was rebuilt and surrounded with a sheltering wall. Visitors were protected from the sudden assaults of the robber nobles whose castles crowned neighbouring heights, and who swooped down on the bathers in hopes of plunder and ransom. The baths regained some of their old prosperity, and gouty or rheumatic Florentines braved the discomforts of the road to make use of the waters. Cosimo Pater Patriæ visited them frequently, and on a memorable occasion a favourite pair of scissors were left in his lodgings, which Contessina tells her son Giovanni to send back to Florence (p. 55). The probability is, however, that the arrangements were anything but luxurious when Lucrezia first tried and found the benefits of the healing springs.

She soon saw the advantages of the position, and after buying the village and baths of Morba in 1477 from the Commune of Florence, in true Florentine fashion at once made plans which would benefit the place, its visitors, her own health, and her pocket. The valuable water was largely wasted; cisterns were needed; more springs might be discovered. Accordingly experts were engaged, the ground was investigated, and work was carefully planned. The known springs were cleared, the water was carefully collected and brought into a great covered cistern built of well-burnt bricks and covered with tiles according to the most approved pattern of the day. Search was made for other springs; the streamlets were followed back to their sources in neighbouring rocks. Soon the supply of water was more than doubled. Meanwhile the bathing-houses with their twelve separate baths were rebuilt. Old engravings enable us to form some idea of these Italian baths, which were made much more luxurious than those north of the Alps. There is no trace of that promiscuous bathing so common in Germany. Either the sexes had separate bathing-houses or, what is more probable, used the same baths at different hours. We see a room with one or more oblong baths set in the floor, and to each bathroom was attached a smaller apartment with a bed for the hour of repose enjoined after bathing. The bathing establishment was a long row of such bathrooms completely separate from each other. At first the same stream of water served all the baths at Morba, but it was found that those nearest the cisterns were too hot, while those furthest from them were too cold. The defect was remedied by an ingenious system of conduits. Provision was made in each bathroom for shower or douche baths, the water being conducted along the walls in open gutters pierced with holes above each wooden tub. Lucrezia also built a large house which served as an hotel and, as at Cauterets--the favourite bathing resort of Marguerite d’Angoulême, the Queen of Navarre, where there was a _Maison du Roi_, while the other bathers lived in _cabanes et logis_--there was a “small palace” for her own use and that of her family. It must have been a thorough holiday for the energetic and busy woman, for, as the Queen of Navarre said, “while at the baths one must live as free from care as a child.”

Lorenzo accompanied his mother to Morba, but there was a report which seems to have been well founded, though Piero in his letter to her treats it as an idle dream, that the Florentine exiles had resolved to attack the place and capture both mother and son. So Lucrezia invented some pretext to send him back to Florence, and the family doctor prevented his return. It will be noticed that although children in those days spoke of their parents by their Christian names, yet they almost always wrote _voi_ (you) in addressing them. Only husband and wife and parents used the familiar _tu_ (thou). _Lei_, now universally used to all but near relations or great friends, is never met with.

Lorenzo de’ Medici _to his mother_ Lucrezia _at Bagno a Morba_

I thought I should have been with you by now, but the weather has become much cooler, and Maestro Mariotti does not think it would be good for my eczema to return there. Therefore I have determined not to come. Piero has promised to go and see you either with Messer Benedetto or soon afterwards. Let us find that you are so improved in health that nothing more will be necessary. We are all well here,

## particularly Piero, whose only need is to hear oftener about you; in

truth, whether from the negligence of the writer or perhaps of the messenger, till now we have had but scant news. Therefore to satisfy us all, more particularly Piero, see that we get your answers more quickly, and apply yourself diligently to benefit from your sojourn there. I commend myself to you.--In Florence on the 19th day of September 1467.

I should be glad if you send me back my purple _cioppetta_ (tunic) as I have nought to wear, the other things I do not want.

Your Lorenzo de’ Medici.[114]

Piero de’ Medici _to his wife_ Lucrezia _at Morba_