Part 16

In 1502 the powers of the Podestà were curtailed by the institution of a Council of Justice, the _Ruota_, which necessitated great changes in the old palace. Room had to be found for the five judges constituting the council, and Baccio d’Agnolo and Giuliano da San Gallo were the architects selected by the Signoria to do the work. They abolished an old staircase which led up into the great hall (now filled with the works of Donatello) where the 300 citizens, forming the council of the Commune, used to meet, and built a new hall of audience looking out on the Piazza S. Apollinare (now Piazza S. Firenze). Fourteen rooms were decorated by the painters Agnolo Donnini and Domenico di Marco, while Bernardino of Settignano sculptured the windows and the doors. The judges’ rooms were on the ground floor, near the prisons and the torture chambers.[68] There were also a few underground cells, and in the courtyard suspected people, whom the Podestà wished to have under his own eye, were kept, but he could not detain them more than three days. A chain near the doorway marked the limit beyond which they were forbidden to go, under pain of severe punishment. In a curious and rare little pamphlet a list is given of the malefactors condemned to death in Florence from 1328 to 1759, and their crimes. Three hundred and three names, many of them of the most illustrious Florentine families, are set down; some were burnt alive, others hung and others decapitated. Such names as Alberti, Strozzi, Ridolfi, Salviati, Vitelli, Soderini, etc., are nearly all followed by the short sentence, “for affairs of state,” or “for speaking ill of the Republic,” or “for unknown reasons.” There are also common robbers and thieves and some heretics, the latter were always condemned to the stake.[69] Massimo d’Azeglio has taken one of the political “delinquents,” Niccolò de Lapo, as the hero of his well-known novel. But far more interesting is a description by Luca della Robbia, great-nephew of the famous Luca, of a night he passed in the Bargello with his friend Pietro Pagolo Boscoli, who was condemned to death. It is so curious a human document that I have translated the greater part.[70]

“I record how on the 22nd Feb. 1513, Agostino di Bernardo Capponi and Pietro Pagolo di Giachineotto Boscoli were condemned to death as conspirators against the house of Medici, for wishing to free the city and to kill Giuliano, Lorenzo and Messer Giulio. On the evening of Tuesday I, Luca di Simone di Marco della Robbia, having heard that they were to die and being impelled by a desire to console Pietro Pagolo, my great friend, went to the Bargello and remained there the whole night.... At about 2 the said Boscoli, having supped, was brought with his legs in irons into the chapel where were the Brethren of the Black Confraternity and others. The Captain in a low voice, not like one of the vulgar, spoke but two words, so that few were aware of what he said; until Pagolo exclaimed: Oh, Pietro Pagolo! Oh, poor Pietro Pagolo, whither hast thou been led! Then I, moved to great compassion seeing my beloved friend in such agony, as affectionately as I could, with gestures of sorrow went towards him and thus saluted him: God preserve thee, dearest of friends. _Noli timere eos qui occidunt corpus, animam autem non possunt occidere._ And he, as though he knew me not, only said: I wish for Fra Zanobi Acciaiuoli, I asked the Signoria, in case I had to die, to let me have a confessor for four hours and they promised; see that he comes. And I, comforting him, said he should be satisfied. Then came news that Fra Zanobi was not in Florence, and he said: Get me one from there [S. Marco], as I want a learned and a good man. I answered: Do not fear, it shall be done. And he continued: I have but little time and I have supped too heartily and of salted things; so that I seem unable to lift my spirit to God. And louder; God have mercy upon me, they have given me too much food. Shame on them! Had they told me before supper, I should have taken but a few mouthfuls. Agostino Capponi, also heavily ironed, then came up, and thinking Pagolo was lamenting, said: O Pietro Pagolo, Pietro Pagolo, do you die unwillingly? What are you about? And he replied: O Agostino, I die willingly, but I grieve for two things: one is that Anton Serristori and Piero Ridolfi held out to me this morning hopes of life, and in a manner I believed and clung to this hope; the other is that they have given me over-much food. How can I turn my heart to God? And Agostino: Never fear, we will die all the more merrily. Boscoli, sitting down, then said to me: You see, dear Luca. And I answered: Yes, dear friend; adding, some time ago I became convinced of a thing which, if you can sincerely believe, will doubtless aid you to take this step, which is a terrible one, with less pain. It is that not a leaf falls but by the will of God. He answered: I certainly believe so. But see, Luca, that I get this confessor, for time is very short and I have a great load. It is true that I owe no man anything. Then I: That is good. And he continued: O Luca, I have ever been ungrateful to God and have offended him in every way; yet I trust in his mercy. I answered: That is the important thing. _Quare igitur tristis est anima tua, et quare conturbat te? Spera in Deo quoniam adhuc confiteberis illi, salutare vultus tui, et Deus tuus._ Then he said: ’Tis well. And raising himself from the chair he placed himself on the mattress with his chained legs, and continued: Since it pleases God that we are to be the first to give an example to the people, let us begin. But Luca, this confessor? And I: Yes, but you understand that I am not sure if you can have a friar of S. Marco, you know they are gravely suspected and I doubt if they will come here. Is there no one in the Badia you would like? Who is there? he asked. There is the Abbot, Don Giovanni Battista Sacchetti, I replied, and some others who are held to be good confessors. Then he said: I need a man who can touch my heart, see if I can have such a one. Stefano the miniature painter came up and offered to go to S. Marco, in order that he might be contented; then another said: Messer Jacopo Manegli is here, you can have him. But with loud and clear voice he answered: I will not have Messer Jacopo, and turning to Stefano said: Go to S. Marco and fetch him of Lucca (meaning Fra Santi). And I added: If he cannot come, bring Fra Serafino (a friar whose nature I considered was much allied to Boscoli’s). Then addressing those around he said: I pray you do not confuse my head (for one or another was ever going up to him), Luca suffices, he knows my character; if I want anything I can tell him. And taking from his sleeve a paper written by him in prison for his brothers, he told me to give it to them, saying: All my wishes are written here. I leave no burthen on any one, save to pray to God sometimes for me.... Then naming his mother he said: Who will console her in such affliction? Poor woman, the blow will be a hard one. So I replied: Pagolo, I have spoken with her. And he: Is it true? Yes, I answered, I have been there every day since last Sunday, and although the body is weak, nevertheless the spirit is upheld by God; for you know she is of high quality. He answered: Yes, truly she is of high quality.... Now Luca, help me to drive Brutus from my head, that I may die like a good Christian. And I: That will not be difficult as you desire to die a Christian. Besides you know these Roman stories are not written simply and nakedly, but dressed out with much art. He replied: And even if true, what matter they to me as they do not contain the true faith. And I: See, you have answered and helped yourself. Luca, he said, do not praise me. And I: I am here to aid you. Tell me all your wants, with God’s help, I will try to comfort you; and yet, ’tis you who comfort me. He replied: My intellect, but with difficulty, believes in the true faith and desires to die like a Christian. But my heart seems hard, and I cannot explain my thoughts even to myself. And I: I understand; you desire a tender love of God, with tears and sobs, and that your intellect should accept the true faith. Then he: Yes, that is so. And I: Pietro Pagolo, this last is necessary for salvation, but ’tis well also to have the former. You must force your intellect to submit to the faith; I am sure you will soon find it needs no forcing, and then tears will come, because you will be helped by confession, communion, indulgences and the prayers of those around. Fear not, let all your thoughts be concentrated on God, for does he not say: _fili, præbe mihi cor tuum_. Give him your heart and leave the rest in his hands. He replied: If that be sufficient, I do so; but is it? Adding: Lord, I am thine, do with me what thou wilt, if only I am pleasing to thee.... O Luca, you must have known I was lost when you heard I had been seized. And I: You may believe I knew the danger; I prayed to God for you and shed many tears. Then I said to myself, if Pagolo saw me he would reprove me, and say that friendship should not be weak and effeminate. He answered: You know full well that death has no sting for me, for we must all die; but my Mother stands ever before me. Am I not even to see my brothers? And I: Christ is your mother and your brothers according to Scripture.... I have scant time, Luca, he said, I should need to be for a month with the friars, then might I become full of faith; but I trust that God will help me this night. Then he asked for water to quench the thirst arising from the salt food, and drinking with a good grace, he said: Luca, they put me eight times to torture, and then I understood that I was lost: nevertheless, thanks to God, I feel no spark of hatred against any citizen.... I asked him: Shall we say a psalm? And he: Luca, I can only say paternosters and _Ave Maria’s_; meaning that he knew no psalms by heart--and this he said with sorrow. And I: That is the best prayer there is: say, if it pleases you, a paternoster to yourself. And with great devotion he did so.... Then to me: Read me the Creed of St. Athanasius; and when I had found it, he said: It will be better I read it myself, and holding the booklet between his handcuffs, he read about twelve verses with such expression that all around cried.... Seeing me cry, he said: Luca, do not do so, help me this little while, and when I am dead pray to God for me. And I, restraining my tears as well as I could, said: I will; and when you are among the Blessed, where I trust surely you will go, remember me. He answered: I will, adding: What death are we to die? And I: I know not. He said: God’s will be done, and then suddenly: Luca, I have a fantastic wish to know when I spoke to you last before I was taken? And I: It was on Friday evening about 24 o’clock, in the shop of Pier Guicciardini, and Lorenzo Segni was there. I held your hand awhile, desiring to accompany you to the Palace whither you were bound, and you refused. About 2 I think you were taken. He answered: It was then in the evening? I said: Yes. And he: ’Tis true, I now remember well. Luca, do not abandon me; you are put to great trouble. I said: Ah, Pietro Pagolo, abandon you! why am I here? You know the love I have always borne you. And he: It is reciprocal, and not without reason. ’Tis well, read me a passage, what you will. So I took S. John, but before I began to read he said: Whenever an explanation is needed, make it. And I: Pagolo, that is a heavy load for my shoulders; I have not the knowledge, neither am I well exercised in Holy Writ. This is no time for ceremony, he answered; do as I tell you, and what God inspires you say. And thus I began to read, and where I thought well, God aiding, I spoke, and it seemed to comfort him.... Then reading the passage where S. Peter denies Jesus, I stopped, and motioned the others to withdraw a little, and in an undertone said: Pagolo, a man of great worth was once in the same position as yourself--Savonarola. And he: I understand you. I continued: Whilst explaining the _Misere mei Deus_ and meditating over the denial of S. Peter, he obtained faith that God would pardon him, therefore take you courage and have faith.... And he: Fools that we are! Lord have mercy on me, for I will follow thee this night as well as I can. O Luca, these explanations have entered into me. Fra Hieronimo was a great man; he was learned; but I am not as he. I replied: Here is no question of learning, only of faith, hope and charity. He was in the midst of religion in a convent studying the Scriptures, and so it is no great wonder that he died with discernment. It is enough for you that God gives you grace to take this step for his honour, that is for the love of him, repenting of your sins.... I was then called away to see the confessor, Fra Cipriano of S. Marco.... Returning to Pagolo I said: The confessor has come. His name is Fra Cipriano, son of a peasant at Pont’ a Sieve, a learned and a good man; God has sent him to you, I doubt not he will satisfy you. And he: God be praised! bring him to me. So Fra Cipriano came to Boscoli, who received him with every mark of respect; for lying on a mattress, with his legs manacled and handcuffs on his hands, he raised himself as far as he was able and uncovered himself with both hands, replying to Fra Cipriano, who had said God preserve thee beloved brother: And you also, my father, you are most welcome. Then turning to me: Arrange things a little, so that he may be as much at ease as possible. And we did so, and then retired a little so that he might confess in secret.... The Black Brethren now began, as is their custom, to sing the penitential psalms and to recite; whereupon Pagolo in a quick, loud voice exclaimed: Fathers and brethren, I dislike such noise, it much annoys me. I have but a short time: I pray you be silent so that I may make my confession, your singing disturbs me. If you will pray to God for me in your hearts, I shall be beholden to you. And Fra Cipriano added: Yes, pray each one silently, that will be as good and not disturb us.... Pagolo called me several times during his confession, recalling his life, and once said: Luca, as a youth I made a vow to go on foot to Santa Maria Impruneta, which I have not fulfilled. I pray you take my vow on yourself; I impose it on you _jure amicitiæ_. I answered: I accept it. Another time he said: Luca, I commend my Mother to you; be to her a third son. Console her with all your strength, she needs it; go and visit her often during her life, which will not be long, for I know she will soon follow me. Go to the house, talk to her, exhort her to have patience, tell her I die willingly and that she is to pray to God for me. And I, with tears, promised.... Seeing that preparations were being made to give him the communion he turned to Fra Cipriano, saying: Will not the sacrament I am about to take give me greater courage? You well know that it will, answered the friar; _ambulabis in fortitudine cibi isitus usque ad montem Dei Oreb_. And he: I trust so.... The Holy Sacrament was then brought, and Pagolo exclaimed: O infinite goodness! O boundless charity! O salvation of the world! Be merciful to me. And the tears streamed from his eyes with such devotion and tenderness that he seemed a young girl.... Agnolo, the bookseller, came up afterwards and he said: O my Agnolo, kiss me. And when Agnolo consoled him with loving words, he said: Agnolo, I am prepared to die, but I would give myself entirely up to God and I cannot. I cannot satisfy myself. I wish to meet death without fear and to attain God with my intellect. Then Agnolo, and Giovanni Covoni who had joined us, both said: Pagolo, have no fear; have faith and do not lose yourself in subtleties. The Lord is merciful; give yourself to him, that is sufficient. I do, he answered, adding: _Deus in adjutorium meum intende, Domine ad adjuvandum me festina. In te, Domine, speravi; non confundar in æternum._ O Giovanni, pray God to give me strength, for the time is drawing nigh.... Turning to Fra Cipriano, he said: Do not leave me till the last; aid me to complete the sacrifice; God will repay you for me. And the friar: Have no fear, my brother. I shall be with thee, and Luca, thy beloved friend, will also aid thee. So be it, he replied, I entreat thee, Luca. And I: Eh! we will not fail thee; but put thy hope in God. _Viriliter age, confortetur cor tuum, et sustine Dominum._ And the time having come he rose with great courage, and when one of the police wished to put the cloak on him, he exclaimed: There is no need for the cloak, and turning to me with a gesture of affection said: Farewell, and nought else. And the word nigh broke my heart, I felt such grief; and could only reply: _Vale_, God is with thee. Thus we went down, the friar comforting him with verses from the psalms.... And as he descended the stairs he kept his eyes on the little picture and with most loving accent said: Lord, thou art my love; I give to thee my heart; I love thee only and therefore I love all things, for I love all for love of thee. Here am I, Lord; I come willingly; grant me courage and strength. And this he said with such tenderness that all who heard were in tears.... And half-way down the stairs he met the Crucifix of the Brotherhood, and said: What ought I to do? And the friar replied: This is your captain, who comes to arm you. Salute him, honour him and pray that he may give you strength. Then he: _Salve Domine Jesu; adoro te in croce pendentem_. Let me, I pray thee, partake of thy passion. True Lord, I beg for peace. And whilst descending the second flight of steps, he ceased not to pray, saying: _In manus tuas, Domine, commendo spiritum meum. Redemisti me, Domine, Deus veritas._... The head executioner, advancing to blindfold him, asked his pardon and offered to pray for him, and Pagolo answered: Do what thou hast to do; but when thou hast placed me on the block let me remain for a short while, and then finish me; that thou prayest to God for me, I accept.... Before he was placed on the block he drew himself up very straight and standing firmly said: I submit myself in the faith of Jesus Christ and desire to die in it; and although my offences against the divine goodness have been infinite, nevertheless I hope to be saved through the blood of Christ and by nought else. As it is pleasing to thee, Jesus mine, that I suffer this death, I accept it willingly for love of thee, and he knelt down. The executioner, giving him but a very short reprieve, severed his head at one blow, and for a time his mouth twitched somewhat. Then Agostino, fervently praying, advanced with great courage, and the executioner cut off his head with two strokes. The Brethren then took the body of Boscoli, and his head was like that of an angel. He was borne to his vault in the Badia, and I begged to be allowed to carry the head, and it was granted to me. Thus I was able to fulfil the demands of friendship, and perhaps, or rather certainly, those of patriotism. He was buried amid the tears of all, many of the monks being present. I saw Agostino also after death, and his face still bore a sort of sneer. He was buried in his vault in S. Spirito. God be merciful to them. This is the truth, in memory thereof I have writ these pages, foolish perhaps, but true....”

Notwithstanding the execution of Boscoli and Capponi, another plot to assassinate the Cardinal Giulio de’ Medici was discovered a few years later. A French courier was arrested in Florence, and although nothing of a treasonable nature was found upon him he was condemned to death. A police spy, dressed as a friar, was sent to hear his last confession, and learned that the wretched man had a letter, pieces of which were sewn in his cloak. The courier disappeared, and the letter went to the Cardinal. In the evening Jacopo Diaceto, already ill looked upon because he frequented the Rucellai gardens, where the Alamanni, Buondelmonti and others hostile to the Medicean rule met, was arrested. At the first turn of the rack he confessed everything, and answered every question. When at the point of death, Nardi tells us that the poor young fellow begged his confessor, in the hearing of the Black Brethren, to inform the judges that he had been driven by fearful torture to inculpate Tommaso Soderini, who was innocent. The poet Luigi Alamanni was at his villa near Figline, and a friend took horse and rode hard to warn him of his danger. He got away to Urbino, but his cousin and namesake, who was at Arezzo, was seized, brought to Florence and beheaded, together with Jacopo Diaceto, in the courtyard of the Bargello on 7th June, 1522. Zanobi Buondelmonti escaped, thanks to his wife’s presence of mind (see p. 59).