The Tragedies of the Medici Part 17

Nothing does a woman of the world love more than to be a go-between where sentimental couples are concerned--be it for their weal or be it for their woe--and so the Marchesa sympathetically addressed herself to the diplomatic task of bringing the two young people together. She struck up a pa.s.sing acquaintance with Madonna Costanza, and upon the plea that she wished for the opinion of her daughter-in-law upon the question of a Venetian costume she was about to wear at a reception at the palace, asked her to bring Bianca to the Mondragone mansion.

Accordingly, a few days after the affair of the kid glove, the three women were closeted in the Marchesa's boudoir, where the Marchese joined them. Calling off Bianca to look at some jewellery, she whisked her into another room, and presently, leaving her absorbed in the beauty of the gems, retired.

Bianca looked up, somewhat annoyed to find herself alone, and, as she did so, she detected a slight movement behind the arras over the door.

The next moment it was raised, and there stepped into the apartment none other than Don Francesco de' Medici!

Bianca stood there, speechless and embarra.s.sed, but the Prince, approaching, took her hand in his, kissed it, and placed her beside him on a couch. When she had recovered from her surprise, Bianca fell upon her knees and, weeping, besought Francesco to befriend her and Pietro.

Raising her to the couch once more, he folded her in an impa.s.sioned embrace, and promised his protection and what she would besides!

Very greatly moved was the young man by Bianca's rare beauty of face and form, and by the tenderness of her voice, and, perhaps more than all, by the undoubting confidence she reposed in him. Bianca was such a very different sort of girl to cold, unattractive and ill-educated Giovanna.

Immediate steps were taken to obtain the recension of the punitive decrees of the Venetian Council, but they proved abortive, and nothing could be done in Venice for Bianca and Pietro. In Florence Don Francesco could do as he willed. His father, Cosimo, had already made over to him much of his sovereign authority.

In July 1564, Bianca Buonaventuri became the mother of a little girl, to whom the name Pellegrina--her own dear mother's name--was given. The days of convalescence quickly pa.s.sed, and Francesco paid his _innamorata_ increasing court. Upon Pietro and Bianca he bestowed a charming palace, on the Lung 'Arno, and provided them with ample means to maintain themselves and it. He appointed Pietro Keeper of his Wardrobe and Clerk of his Privy Closet, on condition that his fascinating girl-wife should be regarded pretty much as "_La cosa di Francesco_."

The more the Prince saw of Bianca the stronger grew his pa.s.sion. She was perfectly irresistible. After the fas.h.i.+on of the day, he poured forth his devotion in graceful madrigals--the first of which, began as follows:--

"A rich and s.h.i.+ning Gem hath Dame Nature Taken out of Heaven's treasury, and Wrapping it in a l.u.s.trous human veil Hath bestowed it on me, saying, 'To thee I give this beauteous Flora for thine own.'"

Meanwhile preparations were going forward for the reception and marriage of the Austrian Archd.u.c.h.ess, who reached Florence on 16th November 1565.

Reports of her husband's infatuation for Bianca Buonaventuri had of course travelled to Vienna, and Giovanna had not long to wait for their verification. She could not brook the fouling of the marriage-bed nor permit the _liaison_ to go on undenounced.

Francesco met her ill-humour with a frown. He pointed to the morals of her father's court, and to the Florentine cult of Platonism, and he bade her mind her own business and not make troubles. Her appeals to Duke Cosimo and to her brother the Emperor Maximilian were in vain. Francesco plainly hinted that she might go back to Vienna if she liked, for nothing that she could say or do would alter his admiration and his devotion for Bianca Buonaventuri. The strictness of married life had long ago disappeared from the conventions of Florentine society. Mutual relations.h.i.+ps proved that men might live as they pleased, so long as they did not renounce the offspring, even when they were a.s.sured that it was not their own. The term "_Part.i.ti_"--"Sharers" or "Partners"-- perhaps less literally but more emphatically, "kindred souls," was bestowed upon this relations.h.i.+p. Still at no time was Francesco a sensuous man or a libertine like his father. His devotionally-affected mother, Eleanora de Toledo, had trained him in moral ways, and had called forth in him regard for religion and sympathy for charitable objects. Possessed of great self-command and reticence, he never betrayed himself in any way; pa.s.sionate he was beyond the ordinary, but never revengeful. He loved one woman, and only one, and to her he proved himself faithful until death took them away together; but she was not Giovanna, his political wife, she was Bianca, the wife of his heart and mind.

Next to his love of Bianca was his love of money: no prince of his house was ever half so wealthy or so sparing. Avarice came to him through the rapacity of Giovanna's German followers and through her own extravagance.

The year after his marriage, Bianca Buonaventuri was introduced at Court as Bianca Cappello. The young d.u.c.h.ess of course was furious, and pointedly refused all intercourse with her rival. Bianca, on the other hand, laid herself out to propitiate the dour Austrian princess and to stifle slander. Still a mere girl, she was in full command of all the moves in woman's strategy. There was no school like that of Venice for the display of tact and fascination. To be sure, she was living in a crystal palace, but she was perfectly ready to repair all damages.

Bianca was severely upon her guard, and her conduct was perfectly correct in every way.

Very rarely did young Cardinal Ferdinando visit Florence, but in 1569, Cosimo, his father, sent for him, that he might embrace him before he died, being, as he thought, on the point of death. At the magnificently immoral Court of the Vatican he had heard the gossip about the lovely Venetian girl who had so completely captured his brother Francesco.

Quite naturally, the by no means ascetic young ecclesiastic desired greatly to see for himself the Venetian charmer, and he journeyed to Florence, bent upon judging for himself.

Francesco greeted Ferdinando quite affectionately--there was no reason why he should not--and unhesitatingly introduced him to Bianca. At the impressionable age of twenty, the young Prince fell at once under the spell of those bewitching eyes. Who could resist her? In the fulness of her womanhood Bianca Buonaventuri was without rival among the fair women of Florence, and the boy-Cardinal made, like all the rest, impa.s.sioned love to her.

Back again in Rome and busy with his plans for the great Medici Palace in the Eternal City he lost none of his admiration for his brother's "Flora," till evil tongues began to wag around him. Was not he, Ferdinando, Don Francesco's heir-presumptive? d.u.c.h.ess Giovanna had given her husband none but daughters; she, too, was in delicate health and might die without a son being born. What then? Why, of course, Francesco would marry Bianca Buonaventuri, and by her secure the succession.

Whether he was destined for the Papacy or not, the Grand Duchy was his by inheritance, and it behoved him, they said, to guard his rights and further his expectations!

Ferdinando listened to this t.i.ttle-tattle and it caused ambitious distrust of Francesco and Bianca. As heir-presumptive to a temporal sovereignty, he began to surround himself with all the attributes and circ.u.mstances of his position. His palace was regal in its magnificence, his entertainments were upon a princely scale, and he a.s.sumed an overbearing demeanour in his relations with Francesco.

Instigated by inveterate intriguers in his entourage, he quite hypocritically affected to be shocked at his brother's _liaison_ with Bianca, although he made no demur at his father's relations with Eleanora degli Albizzi, Cammilla de' Martelli, and other _innamorate_.

Giovanna was only too delighted to have the invaluable a.s.sistance of the young Cardinal in her campaign against "the hated Venetian." At length he took the bold step of expostulating with Francesco upon his intercourse with the captivating rival of Giovanna. The Prince was furious, and warned his brother never to name the subject again, and on no account to meddle with his private affairs.

Ferdinando replied that he was quite content to abstain at a price. The truth was, that his lavish extravagance had exhausted his revenue and restricted his powers of borrowing, and he was in lack of funds for the maintenance of his state in Rome.

In a weak moment Francesco gave heed to Ferdinando's stipulations, and provided him with funds and increased his family allowance. In grat.i.tude, the Cardinal threw into his brother's teeth the fact of his position as heir-presumptive, and insisted upon the purchase of a piece of land at the confluence of the Pesa with the Arno. There he built his Villa Ambrogiana, which became the seat of an anti-Francesco cabal and the headquarters of an elaborate system of paid spies and toadies.

In September 1571, Francesco issued a decree which enn.o.bled the family of Bianca's husband, and Ser Zen.o.bio, unambitious, pottering notary that he was, and Pietro, and all their male kith and kin, were enrolled "_inter n.o.biles, inter agnationes et familias ceusetas et connumeratus._" Pietro was now a gentleman of Florence, and he at once a.s.sumed the airs of such, as he conceived they should be, but his bad manners and his arrogance brought upon him the contempt of the whole Court.

Francesco at first s.h.i.+elded his protege, but his overbearing conduct and his importunities at length alienated his regard, and he made no attempt to conceal his displeasure. Bianca pleaded with her husband in vain, success had turned his head, and now came "the parting of the ways."

Pietro had consented that Bianca should be "_La cosa di Francesco_"; he too would enjoy life, and he sought his compensation in the embraces of the most attractive and most scheming flirt in Florence, Madonna Ca.s.sandra, the wealthy widow of Messer Simone de' Borghiani--born a Riccio. Although well over thirty years of age, she was run after by all the young gallants of the Court and city. Two already had been done to death for love of her--mere boys--Pietro del Calca and Giovanni de'

Cavalcanti.

Pietro Buonaventuri vowed he would marry her, but the Ricci would have none of him; and he fell, one summer's night, under the very windows of his wife's bedchamber, pierced with twenty-five savage dagger thrusts.

That same night--it was 27th August 1572--Madonna Ca.s.sandra was stabbed, in her own apartment, also twenty-five times, and two stark, mutilated corpses were mercifully borne away, in the dawn, by the brethren of the _Misericordia_, and given burial.

Bianca, widowed, demanded at the hand of her princely lover justice for the spilling of her husband's blood; but, for answer, Francesco drew her gently to his heart and said: "The best thing I can do now, my own Bianca, is to make you, before long, Grand d.u.c.h.ess of Tuscany!"

The Cardinal was keenly interested in this tragedy, not indeed that he took any part therein, but it had a distinct bearing upon his line of conduct, and he noted with apprehension the redoubling of Francesco's devotion to "the hated Venetian."

Bianca, of course, was perfectly aware that she was the real cause of Ferdinando's animosity, in spite of his protestations of admiration and the like. She set about to unmask his real intentions and to circ.u.mvent his hypocrisy. Her methods were at once original and full of tact, for she disarmed his aggression by playing to his personal vanity and by furthering his l.u.s.t for money.

Not once, nor twice, but many times, did Bianca plead with Francesco for his brother, and always with success, and many a substantial sum of money was lodged in the Roman Medici bank at his disposal. Ferdinando began to realise that the only way to his brother's purse was by Bianca's favour, and he began to evince a distinctly amiable spirit in his relations with her.

As marking the improvement in the situation, the Cardinal accepted an invitation to a family gathering at Poggio a Caiano in the autumn of 1575. The Grand d.u.c.h.ess Giovanna quite properly was the hostess, but Bianca Buonaventuri, who was installed in a Casino in the park, which Francesco had given her, and called "Villetta Bini," was of the party, the life and soul of all the entertainments.

During the festivities Bianca managed to be _tete-a-tete_ with her brother-in-law in a secluded summer-house. The fascination of three years before was again transcendent. "The Venetian is irresistible," he said afterwards, "I cannot hate her, try how I will!" The truth was, he was madly in love, and he owned it, but his love was, after all, like the hot fumes of a lurid fire.

The year 1576 was a black one in the annals of the Medici. Two beautiful and accomplished princesses of the ruling house were done to death by jealous, unfaithful husbands.

Bianca Buonaventuri was stunned by the terrible end of her dear sister-friends, Isabella de' Medici and Eleanora de Garzia de Toledo.

Would her turn come next? The three had been called "The Three Graces of Florence," and certainly each had vied with the other in elegance and fascination, but to Bianca the golden apple had been accorded unanimously. Beauty and charm seemed to be magnets of destruction, and Bianca was upon her guard!

So far as she herself was concerned, she knew that at any time she might still fall a victim to a Venetian desperado, or to a Florentine a.s.sa.s.sin, and under every friendly guise she feared a foe.

With respect to the Grand d.u.c.h.ess Giovanna and her detestation of Bianca, a story may be told which has all the appearance at least of probability. Giovanna expressed, not once, but often, her wish for Bianca's death. This, indeed, in those days, and in Florence, the "City of a.s.sa.s.sins," was as good as a judicial sentence. The Grand d.u.c.h.ess, moreover, it was reputed, followed up her words by action. "One day,"

the story goes, "in the month of March 1576, her carriage chanced to meet that of Bianca's upon the Ponte SS. Trinita. She besought her coachman to try and upset her rival, hoping that she might fall into the river below and be drowned! Conte Eliodoro del Castello, her Chamberlain, saw the manoeuvre and prevented a deplorable fatality."

Be this as it may, the Grand Duke not only sympathised with Bianca's fears, but appointed certain of his own bodyguard to take up similar duties near the person of Madonna Buonaventuri, and her progresses henceforward were watched with as much circ.u.mstance as his own. At the same time his devotion to the woman he loved increased from day to day.

The perils she was called upon to meet were incurred through her unquestioning love of him. This he knew well enough.

Writing on 29th March 1576, Carlo Zorzi, the Amba.s.sador of the Serene Republic, and a warm adherent of his fascinating fellow-countrywoman, says: "I visited the Grand Duke's Villa Pratolino, and also Madonna Bianca Buonaventuri's charming retreat, the Orte Oricellari, and her pretty Villa della Tana, which he had lately given her, looking upon the Arno, and I observed Don Francesco's intimacy with the Madonna. I noted also her extraordinary influence for good upon him.... They appear to be made for one another, and to be absorbed in the same occupations and interests.... She had but to name an object for charity or patronage, and at once she had his hearty approval."

Francesco never concealed his concern at having no son. With his own physicians and the physicians of the Grand d.u.c.h.ess he held many consultations: not a few quacks and empirics also were sought to for nostrums and charms which should obtain by science what nature had so far withheld. He and Bianca held anxious counsel, for he knew that she would lay down her life for him, and would grant him every facility which it was in her loving power to supply.

Reflecting deeply, Bianca saw only one situation: Giovanna was barren of male issue, why should not she herself become once more a mother--the mother of a son, a son of Francesco!

This idea haunted her, but all the same she had no conception; and then a design presented itself to her weary brain--as natural as it was indefensible. For some time she had been getting stout--her age, her const.i.tution, and her rich living were all conducive to that condition.

If she was not to be the mother of his child by natural means, she could be so by a subterfuge, which her _embonpoint_ would uphold!

In the spring of 1576 Bianca Buonaventuri gave out that she was _enceinte_ and began forthwith her preparations for _accouchement_. She left her palace in the Via Maggio, under the shadow of the Pitti Palace, and took up her abode in the Casino of the Orte Oricellari, which she had lately purchased from the family of Rucellai, and surrounded herself with confidential friends and attendants.

The _denouement_ came on 29th August, when the Grand Duke was informed by Bianca's surgeon-accoucheur, that she had been delivered of a child--a boy! Francesco was almost frantic with delight, and he hastened to his beloved Bianca's bedside. Picking up _his_ child, he fondled him tenderly and almost smothered him with kisses, and at once gave orders for a ceremonial baptism. Antonio, he called him--after the kindly patron saint of that auspicious day--when he personally handed the child to the Archbishop at the font.

The Grand d.u.c.h.ess was inexpressibly shocked, she refused to see her husband, shut herself up in her own apartments, and demanded an escort to Vienna! The news was not long in reaching Rome, and it made Cardinal Ferdinando furious. In a moment all the blandishments of "the Venetian"

were dissipated; the better terms lately established in Florence were renounced, and the angry Prince, in unmeasured language, a.s.serted that the child was not Francesco's.