# CHAPTER VIII

CHAPTER VIII

The Duke of Athens requires to be made prince of Florence--The Signory
address the duke upon the subject--The plebeians proclaim him prince
of Florence for life--Tyrannical proceedings of the duke--The city
disgusted with him--Conspiracies against the duke--The duke discovers
the conspiracies, and becomes terrified--The city rises against him--He
is besieged in the palace--Measures adopted by the citizens for
reform of the government--The duke is compelled to withdraw from the
city--Miserable deaths of Guglielmo da Scesi and his son--Departure of
the duke of Athens--His character.

These executions greatly terrified the middle class of citizens, but
gave satisfaction to the great and to the plebeians;--to the latter,
because it is their nature to delight in evil; and to the former, by
thus seeing themselves avenged of the many wrongs they had suffered from
the people. When the duke passed along the streets he was hailed with
loud cheers, the boldness of his proceedings was praised, and both
parties joined in open entreaties that he would search out the faults of
the citizens, and punish them.

The office of the Twenty began to fall into disuse, while the power
of the duke became great, and the influence of fear excessive; so that
everyone, in order to appear friendly to him, caused his arms to be
painted over their houses, and the name alone was all he needed to be
absolutely prince. Thinking himself upon such a footing that he might
safely attempt anything, he gave the Signory to understand that he
judged it necessary for the good of the city, that the sovereignty
should be freely given to him, and that as the rest of the citizens were
willing that it should be so, he desired they would also consent. The
Signory, notwithstanding many had foreseen the ruin of their country,
were much disturbed at this demand; and although they were aware of the
dangerous position in which they stood, that they might not be wanting
in their duty, resolutely refused to comply. The duke had, in order to
assume a greater appearance of religion and humanity, chosen for his
residence the convent of the Minor Canons of St. Croce, and in order
to carry his evil designs into effect, proclaimed that all the people
should, on the following morning, present themselves before him in the
piazza of the convent. This command alarmed the Signory much more than
his discourse to them had done, and they consulted with those citizens
whom they thought most attached to their country and to liberty; but
they could not devise any better plan, knowing the power of which the
duke was possessed, than to endeavor by entreaty to induce him either to
forego his design or to make his government less intolerable. A party of
them was, therefore, appointed to wait upon him, one of whom addressed
him in the following manner:--

"We appear before you, my lord, induced first by the demand which you
have made, and then by the orders you have given for a meeting of the
people; for it appears to us very clearly, that it is your intention
to effect by extraordinary means the design from which we have hitherto
withheld our consent. It is not, however, our intention to oppose you
with force, but only to show what a heavy charge you take upon yourself,
and the dangerous course you adopt; to the end that you may remember our
advice and that of those who, not by consideration of what is beneficial
for you, but for the gratification of their own unreasonable wishes,
have advised you differently. You are endeavoring to reduce to slavery a
city that has always existed in freedom; for the authority which we
have at times conceded to the kings of Naples was companionship and
not servitude. Have you considered the mighty things which the name
of liberty implies to such a city as this, and how delightful it is to
those who hear it? It has a power which nothing can subdue, time cannot
wear away, nor can any degree of merit in a prince countervail the loss
of it. Consider, my lord, how great the force must be that can keep a
city like this in subjection, no foreign aid would enable you to do it;
neither can you confide in those at home; for they who are at present
your friends, and advise you to adopt the course you now pursue, as soon
as with your assistance they have overcome their enemies, will at once
turn their thoughts toward effecting your destruction, and then take
the government upon themselves. The plebeians, in whom you confide, will
change upon any accident, however trivial; so that in a very short time
you may expect to see the whole city opposed to you, which will produce
both their ruin and your own. Nor will you be able to find any remedy
for this; for princes who have but few enemies may make their government
very secure by the death or banishment of those who are opposed to them;
but when the hatred is universal, no security whatever can be found, for
you cannot tell from what direction the evil may commence; and he who
has to apprehend every man his enemy cannot make himself assured of
anyone. And if you should attempt to secure a friend or two, you would
only increase the dangers of your situation; for the hatred of the
rest would be increased by your success, and they would become more
resolutely disposed to vengeance.

"That time can neither destroy nor abate the desire for freedom is most
certain; for it has been often observed, that those have reassumed their
liberty who in their own persons had never tasted of its charms, and
love it only from remembrance of what they have heard their fathers
relate; and, therefore, when recovered, have preserved it with
indomitable resolution and at every hazard. And even when their
fathers could not remember it, the public buildings, the halls of the
magistracy, and the insignia of free institutions, remind them of it;
and these things cannot fail to be known and greatly desired by every
class of citizens.

"What is it you imagine you can do, that would be an equivalent for
the sweets of liberty, or make men lose the desire of their present
conditions? No; if you were to join the whole of Tuscany to the
Florentine rule, if you were to return to the city daily in triumph
over her enemies, what could it avail? The glory would not be ours,
but yours. We should not acquire fellow-citizens, but partakers of our
bondage, who would serve to sink us still deeper in ignominy. And if
your conduct were in every respect upright, your demeanor amiable, and
your judgments equitable, all these would be insufficient to make you
beloved. If you imagine otherwise, you deceive yourself; for, to one
accustomed to the enjoyment of liberty, the slightest chains feel
heavy, and every tie upon his free soul oppresses him. Besides, it is
impossible to find a violent people associated with a good prince, for
of necessity they must soon become alike, or their difference produce
the ruin of one of them. You may, therefore, be assured, that you
will either have to hold this city by force, to effect which, guards,
castles, and external aid have oft been found insufficient, or be
content with the authority we have conferred; and this we would advise,
reminding you that no dominion can be durable to which the governed do
not consent; and we have no wish to lead you, blinded by ambition, to
such a point that, unable either to stand or advance, you must, to the
great injury of both, of necessity fall."

This discourse did not in the slightest degree soften the obdurate mind
of the duke, who replied that it was not his intention to rob the city
of her liberty, but to restore it to her; for those cities alone are in
slavery that are disunited, while the united are free. As Florence, by
her factions and ambition, had deprived herself of liberty, he should
restore, not take it from her; and as he had been induced to take this
charge upon himself, not from his own ambition, but at the entreaty of
a great number of citizens, they would do well to be satisfied with that
which produced contentment among the rest. With regard to the danger he
might incur, he thought nothing of it; for it was not the part of a good
man to avoid doing good from his apprehension of evil, and it was the
part of a coward to shun a glorious undertaking because some uncertainty
attended the success of the attempt; and he knew he should so
conduct himself, that they would soon see they had entertained great
apprehensions and been in little danger.

The Signory then agreed, finding they could not do better, that on the
following morning the people should be assembled in their accustomed
place of meeting, and with their consent the Signory should confer
upon the duke the sovereignty of the city for one year, on the same
conditions as it had been intrusted to the duke of Calabria. It was upon
the 8th of November, 1342, when the duke, accompanied by Giovanni della
Tosa and all his confederates, with many other citizens, came to the
piazza or court of the palace, and having, with the Signory mounted upon
the ringhiera, or rostrum (as the Florentines call those steps which
lead to the palace), the agreement which had been entered into between
the Signory and himself was read. When they had come to the passage
which gave the government to him for one year, the people shouted, "FOR
LIFE." Upon this, Francesco Rustichelli, one of the Signory, arose to
speak, and endeavored to abate the tumult and procure a hearing; but the
mob, with their hootings, prevented him from being heard by anyone; so
that with the consent of the people the duke was elected, not for one
year merely, but for life. He was then borne through the piazza by the
crowd, shouting his name as they proceeded.

It is the custom that he who is appointed to the guard of the palace
shall, in the absence of the Signory, remain locked within. This office
was at that time held by Rinieri di Giotto, who, bribed by the friends
of the duke, without waiting for any force, admitted him immediately.
The Signory, terrified and dishonored, retired to their own houses; the
palace was plundered by the followers of the duke, the Gonfalon of the
people torn to pieces, and the arms of the duke placed over the palace.
All this happened to the indescribable sorrow of good men, though to
the satisfaction of those who, either from ignorance or malignity, were
consenting parties.

The duke, having acquired the sovereignty of the city, in order to strip
those of all authority who had been defenders of her liberty, forbade
the Signory to assemble in the palace, and appointed a private dwelling
for their use. He took their colors from the Gonfaloniers of the
companies of the people; abolished the ordinances made for the restraint
of the great; set at liberty those who were imprisoned; recalled the
Bardi and the Frescobaldi from exile, and forbade everyone from carrying
arms about his person. In order the better to defend himself against
those within the city, he made friends of all he could around it, and
therefore conferred great benefits upon the Aretini and other subjects
of the Florentines. He made peace with the Pisans, although raised to
power in order that he might carry on war against them; ceased paying
interest to those merchants who, during the war against Lucca, had lent
money to the republic; increased the old taxes, levied new ones, and
took from the Signory all authority. His rectors were Baglione da
Perugia and Guglielmo da Scesi, who, with Cerrettieri Bisdomini,
were the persons with whom he consulted on public affairs. He imposed
burdensome taxes upon the citizens; his decisions between contending
parties were unjust; and that precision and humanity which he had at
first assumed, became cruelty and pride; so that many of the greatest
citizens and noblest people were, either by fines, death, or some new
invention, grievously oppressed. And in completing the same bad system,
both without the city and within, he appointed six rectors for the
country, who beat and plundered the inhabitants. He suspected the great,
although he had been benefited by them, and had restored many to their
country; for he felt assured that the generous minds of the nobility
would not allow them, from any motives, to submit contentedly to his
authority. He also began to confer benefits and advantages upon the
lowest orders, thinking that with their assistance, and the arms of
foreigners, he would be able to preserve the tyranny. The month of May,
during which feasts are held, being come, he caused many companies to
be formed of the plebeians and very lowest of the people, and to these,
dignified with splendid titles, he gave colors and money; and while
one party went in bacchanalian procession through the city, others were
stationed in different parts of it, to receive them as guests. As the
report of the duke's authority spread abroad, many of French origin came
to him, for all of whom he found offices and emoluments, as if they
had been the most trustworthy of men; so that in a short time Florence
became not only subject to French dominion, but adopted their dress
and manners; for men and women, without regard to propriety or sense
of shame, imitated them. But that which disgusted the people most
completely was the violence which, without any distinction of quality or
rank, he and his followers committed upon the women.

The people were filled with indignation, seeing the majesty of the state
overturned, its ordinances annihilated, its laws annulled, and every
decent regulation set at naught; for men unaccustomed to royal pomp
could not endure to see this man surrounded with his armed satellites on
foot and on horseback; and having now a closer view of their disgrace,
they were compelled to honor him whom they in the highest degree
hated. To this hatred, was added the terror occasioned by the continual
imposition of new taxes and frequent shedding of blood, with which he
impoverished and consumed the city.

The duke was not unaware of these impressions existing strongly in the
people's minds, nor was he without fear of the consequences; but still
pretended to think himself beloved; and when Matteo di Morozzo, either
to acquire his favor or to free himself from danger, gave information
that the family of the Medici and some others had entered into a
conspiracy against him he not only did not inquire into the matter, but
caused the informer to be put to a cruel death. This mode of proceeding
restrained those who were disposed to acquaint him of his danger and
gave additional courage to such as sought his ruin. Bertone Cini, having
ventured to speak against the taxes with which the people were loaded,
had his tongue cut out with such barbarous cruelty as to cause his
death. This shocking act increased the people's rage, and their hatred
of the duke; for those who were accustomed to discourse and to act upon
every occasion with the greatest boldness, could not endure to live with
their hands tied and forbidden to speak.

This oppression increased to such a degree, that not merely the
Florentines, who though unable to preserve their liberty cannot endure
slavery, but the most servile people on earth would have been roused to
attempt the recovery of freedom; and consequently many citizens of all
ranks resolved either to deliver themselves from this odious tyranny or
die in the attempt. Three distinct conspiracies were formed; one of the
great; another of the people, and the third of the working classes; each
of which, besides the general causes which operated upon the whole, were
excited by some other particular grievance. The great found themselves
deprived of all participation in the government; the people had lost the
power they possessed, and the artificers saw themselves deficient in the
usual remuneration of their labor.

Agnolo Acciajuoli was at this time archbishop of Florence, and by his
discourses had formerly greatly favored the duke, and procured him many
followers among the higher class of the people. But when he found him
lord of the city, and became acquainted with his tyrannical mode of
proceeding, it appeared to him that he had misled his countrymen; and to
correct the evil he had done, he saw no other course, but to attempt the
cure by the means which had caused it. He therefore became the leader
of the first and most powerful conspiracy, and was joined by the Bardi,
Rossi, Frescobaldi, Scali Altoviti, Magalotti, Strozzi, and Mancini. Of
the second, the principals were Manno and Corso Donati, and with them
the Pazzi, Cavicciulli, Cerchi, and Albizzi. Of the third the first
was Antonio Adimari, and with him the Medici, Bordini, Rucellai, and
Aldobrandini. It was the intention of these last, to slay him in the
house of the Albizzi, whither he was expected to go on St. John's day,
to see the horses run, but he not having gone, their design did not
succeed. They then resolved to attack him as he rode through the
city; but they found this would be very difficult; for he was always
accompanied with a considerable armed force, and never took the same
road twice together, so that they had no certainty of where to find him.
They had a design of slaying him in the council, although they knew that
if he were dead, they would be at the mercy of his followers.

While these matters were being considered by the conspirators, Antonio
Adimari, in expectation of getting assistance from them, disclosed
the affair to some Siennese, his friends, naming certain of the
conspirators, and assuring them that the whole city was ready to rise at
once. One of them communicated the matter to Francesco Brunelleschi,
not with a design to injure the plot, but in the hope that he would join
them. Francesco, either from personal fear, or private hatred of some
one, revealed the whole to the duke; whereupon, Pagolo del Mazecha and
Simon da Monterappoli were taken, who acquainted him with the number and
quality of the conspirators. This terrified him, and he was advised to
request their presence rather than to take them prisoners, for if they
fled, he might without disgrace, secure himself by banishment of the
rest. He therefore sent for Antonio Adimari, who, confiding in
his companions, appeared immediately, and was detained. Francesco
Brunelleschi and Uguccione Buondelmonti advised the duke to take as many
of the conspirators prisoners as he could, and put them to death;
but he, thinking his strength unequal to his foes, did not adopt this
course, but took another, which, had it succeeded, would have freed him
from his enemies and increased his power. It was the custom of the duke
to call the citizens together upon some occasions and advise with them.
He therefore having first sent to collect forces from without, made
a list of three hundred citizens, and gave it to his messengers, with
orders to assemble them under the pretense of public business; and
having drawn them together, it was his intention either to put them to
death or imprison them.

The capture of Antonio Adimari and the sending for forces, which could
not be kept secret, alarmed the citizens, and more particularly those
who were in the plot, so that the boldest of them refused to attend, and
as each had read the list, they sought each other, and resolved to rise
at once and die like men, with arms in their hands, rather than be
led like calves to the slaughter. In a very short time the chief
conspirators became known to each other, and resolved that the next day,
which was the 26th July, 1343, they would raise a disturbance in the Old
Market place, then arm themselves and call the people to freedom.

The next morning being come, at nine o'clock, according to agreement,
they took arms, and at the call of liberty assembled, each party in its
own district, under the ensigns and with the arms of the people,
which had been secretly provided by the conspirators. All the heads of
families, as well of the nobility as of the people, met together, and
swore to stand in each other's defense, and effect the death of the
duke; except some of the Buondelmonti and of the Cavalcanti, with those
four families of the people which had taken so conspicuous a part in
making him sovereign, and the butchers, with others, the lowest of the
plebeians, who met armed in the piazza in his favor.

The duke immediately fortified the place, and ordered those of his
people who were lodged in different parts of the city to mount upon
horseback and join those in the court; but, on their way thither, many
were attacked and slain. However, about three hundred horse assembled,
and the duke was in doubt whether he should come forth and meet
the enemy, or defend himself within. On the other hand, the Medici,
Cavicciulli, Rucellai, and other families who had been most injured by
him, fearful that if he came forth, many of those who had taken arms
against him would discover themselves his partisans, in order to deprive
him of the occasion of attacking them and increasing the number of
his friends, took the lead and assailed the palace. Upon this, those
families of the people who had declared for the duke, seeing themselves
boldly attacked, changed their minds, and all took part with the
citizens, except Uguccione Buondelmonti, who retired into the palace,
and Giannozzo Cavalcanti, who having withdrawn with some of his
followers to the new market, mounted upon a bench, and begged that those
who were going in arms to the piazza, would take the part of the duke.
In order to terrify them, he exaggerated the number of his people and
threatened all with death who should obstinately persevere in their
undertaking against their sovereign. But not finding any one either
to follow him, or to chastise his insolence, and seeing his labor
fruitless, he withdrew to his own house.

In the meantime, the contest in the piazza between the people and the
forces of the duke was very great; but although the place served them
for defense, they were overcome, some yielding to the enemy, and others,
quitting their horses, fled within the walls. While this was going on,
Corso and Amerigo Donati, with a part of the people, broke open the
stinche, or prisons; burnt the papers of the provost and of the public
chamber; pillaged the houses of the rectors, and slew all who had held
offices under the duke whom they could find. The duke, finding the
piazza in possession of his enemies, the city opposed to him, and
without any hope of assistance, endeavored by an act of clemency to
recover the favor of the people. Having caused those whom he had made
prisoners to be brought before him, with amiable and kindly expressions
he set them at liberty, and made Antonio Adimari a knight, although
quite against his will. He caused his own arms to be taken down, and
those of the people to be replaced over the palace; but these things
coming out of season, and forced by his necessities, did him little
good. He remained, notwithstanding all he did, besieged in the palace,
and saw that having aimed at too much he had lost all, and would most
likely, after a few days, die either of hunger, or by the weapons of his
enemies. The citizens assembled in the church of Santa Reparata, to
form the new government, and appointed fourteen citizens, half from
the nobility and half from the people, who, with the archbishop, were
invested with full authority to remodel the state of Florence. They also
elected six others to take upon them the duties of provost, till he who
should be finally chosen took office, the duties of which were usually
performed by a subject of some neighboring state.

Many had come to Florence in defense of the people; among whom were a
party from Sienna, with six ambassadors, men of high consideration in
their own country. These endeavored to bring the people and the duke
to terms; but the former refused to listen to any whatever, unless
Guglielmo da Scesi and his son, with Cerrettieri Bisdomini, were
first given up to them. The duke would not consent to this; but being
threatened by those who were shut up with him, he was forced to comply.
The rage of men is certainly always found greater, and their revenge
more furious upon the recovery of liberty, than when it has only been
defended. Guglielmo and his son were placed among the thousands of their
enemies, and the latter was not yet eighteen years old; neither his
beauty, his innocence, nor his youth, could save him from the fury of
the multitude; but both were instantly slain. Those who could not wound
them while alive, wounded them after they were dead; and not satisfied
with tearing them to pieces, they hewed their bodies with swords, tore
them with their hands, and even with their teeth. And that every sense
might be satiated with vengeance, having first heard their moans, seen
their wounds, and touched their lacerated bodies, they wished even the
stomach to be satisfied, that having glutted the external senses, the
one within might also have its share. This rabid fury, however hurtful
to the father and son, was favorable to Cerrettieri; for the multitude,
wearied with their cruelty toward the former, quite forgot him, so that
he, not being asked for, remained in the palace, and during night was
conveyed safely away by his friends.

The rage of the multitude being appeased by their blood, an agreement
was made that the duke and his people, with whatever belonged to him,
should quit the city in safety; that he should renounce all claim, of
whatever kind, upon Florence, and that upon his arrival in the Casentino
he should ratify his renunciation. On the sixth of August he set out,
accompanied by many citizens, and having arrived at the Casentino he
ratified the agreement, although unwillingly, and would not have kept
his word if Count Simon had not threatened to take him back to Florence.
This duke, as his proceedings testified, was cruel and avaricious,
difficult to speak with, and haughty in reply. He desired the service of
men, not the cultivation of their better feelings, and strove rather
to inspire them with fear than love. Nor was his person less despicable
than his manners; he was short, his complexion was black, and he had a
long, thin beard. He was thus in every respect contemptible; and at the
end of ten months, his misconduct deprived him of the sovereignty which
the evil counsel of others had given him.