The Florentine Emerald: The Secret of the Convert's Ring

by Agustín Bernaldo Palatchi

  Mauricio was well-informed about the subtleties of the Holy Office. When the offenders against the faith were unable to be found, they burned their portraits for want of anything more corpulent to feed the flames. What Mauricio did not know was that Juan Sánchez had been condemned in Spain. Mauricio and his partner Bruno had understood the main reason for his presence in the city was to convince rich Florentine merchants of the great profits they would make if they invested in Columbus’s venture. In any case, it was logical that he had hidden this reason, for it could have driven away indecisive investors like themselves. It was too late to turn back now: a part of his fortune was sailing away on the visionary navigator’s ships.

  “So you see,” continued Elias, “the Hebrews do have a lot to do with Columbus’s voyage. Furthermore, the majority of the private Florentine and Genoese moneylenders who contributed to the half million maravedis are descendants of Jews.”

  “And as it turns out, by sheer coincidence, I am a Jewish descendant too,” said Mauricio.

  “Well, as you already know, I do not believe in coincidences.”

  78

  “You don’t look too happy,” remarked Pietro Manfredi.

  “Well, we lost the match in the last minute,” said Luca, justifying his mood but avoiding making any comments about other reasons for his irritation.

  Mauricio had insulted him by not coming to the game and Lorena had gone so far as to criticize his behavior during the match. She of all people, a woman without morals or principles. He had been on the point of accusing her of having lost her virginity to Mauricio before marriage, but had controlled himself at the last moment. Savonarola was perfectly right. The best place for a woman was at home and the less she said the better. He consoled himself by thinking that at least Mauricio had lost favor with the Medici household since Lorenzo’s death and was no longer invited to the palace, or to feasts and banquets. But apart from that, Luca was also annoyed because recently he had been obliged to shut down his textile business due to the bad state of the economy, and the fashion business in particular, whereas lucky Mauricio and his partner were making a success of the very business in which he had failed. He cheered up a little thinking of the rent he was getting from three shops and a house in Florence, which provided him with a very decent income without any need to work. Today, though, his blood was boiling with rage toward Lorena and her husband, and perhaps something could be done about it with the help of his friend Pietro.

  “Sorry you lost the game,” Pietro Manfredi comforted him. “I am sure you will be luckier next time than you were today. At least I can offer you some wine, sweetmeats, pastries … or anything else you might want.”

  “Maybe there is something you could do for me,” said Luca, lowering his voice. “You know Mauricio, that brother-in-law of mine, who is not exactly my favorite person.”

  “I know, I know,” said Pietro Manfredi. “As a matter of fact, I have discovered that his paternal grandparents were descendants of Jews converted to Christianity, in other words, his blood is not completely pure.”

  “You have taken the words right out of my mouth. I wonder if he practices Jewish rites in secret. I have no proof, but I would not be averse to certain rumors circulating around Florence to that effect. Obviously, I am not the person to start them. After all, he is my brother-in-law.”

  Luca would have liked to add that in the past Mauricio’s father had robbed certain trade secrets from the firm Rucellai, but it was better not to mention it. He had gleaned this information from Bernardo Rucellai one day when he had been drinking heavily, but Bernardo had begged him to be discreet. If gossip were to start spreading, he would be the first to be suspected. Friendship with someone as important as Bernardo was too valuable to risk losing.

  “Do not worry, Luca. I can assure you that everyone will learn of this without your name ever being mentioned.”

  “I am sincerely grateful. If there is anything you need that may be within my reach, do not hesitate to ask me.”

  “Well, since you mention it, there is something you could do by taking advantage of your close friendship with Bernardo Rucellai. As you know, he and Paolo Mauricio Soderini counted themselves among Lorenzo de Medici’s main advisers. The fact is they are two of the most astute people in Florence, but Piero de Medici, Lorenzo’s eldest son, is starting to fall out of favor with them.”

  “Bernardo told me something about this,” confirmed Luca. “It seems they are both advising Lorenzo’s son to be prudent, to place qualified people in high government positions instead of those brainless flatterers, to refrain from being so ostentatious in flaunting his wealth and to try and avoid becoming the envy of the Florentines. However, it seems that Piero de Medici is not paying the slightest attention to them and far from being moderate in his use of power, behaves like a conceited tyrant.”

  “Absolutely. Lorenzo’s scatterbrained offspring is far more interested in using his legs to play ball than his head for affairs of state. So for the time being, he prefers to listen to the advice of such people as Piero de Bibbiena and Francesco Valori. Bernardo Rucellai’s indignation has reached such a point that he is contemplating the possibility of marrying off one of his sons to a daughter of Filippo Strozzi without asking Piero de Medici’s opinion.”

  “The union of two such noble and wealthy families, without even bothering to ask for his consent, would absolutely infuriate Piero de Medici!” exclaimed Luca.

  “Exactly. And that is where you come in. When Bernardo tells you about his intentions, I’d like you to encourage him to arrange this marriage with the Strozzi. Fuel his anger against Piero de Medici with all the means at your disposal. You are his friend, you know him, so it should be easy for you.”

  “And what do we get out of it?” asked Luca.

  “The great events of state often take shape in the silence of one heart. A breath of air provoking a particular emotion in the right man, at the right time, can change the world and certainly the way Florence is governed. Bernardo has his doubts now, but if he eventually decides to marry off one of his sons to a Strozzi, the consequences are more than predictable. Piero de Medici would never trust Bernardo Rucellai again and by extension would break all links that still bind him to the old guard of Lorenzo’s counselors.”

  “Very true,” reasoned Luca, “inasmuch as Lorenzo’s firstborn is not only incompetent but mistrustful and Bernardo Rucellai is the visible head of Lorenzo’s old advisers.”

  “For that reason, Piero de Medici will end up throwing himself into the arms of these friends who are as arrogant and ignorant as he is. Right now, the Medici machinery is a mechanism whose components are perfectly assembled together. But if machines are ill-treated instead of being cared for, they end up breaking down. This is what will happen eventually if Piero finally stops listening to his best advisers. One by one, the components will start failing until the machinery grinds to a halt. When that moment comes, Florence will demand the expulsion of Piero de Medici and Savonarola will end up being the only legitimate leader for the people. And we prefer Savonarola to the Medici, don’t we?”

  “Of course.”

  “Well, if you wish to see the corpse of your enemy file past the window of your house, just follow my advice and time will tell.”

  The Medici expelled from Florence and Savonarola reigning over the city … That, thought Luca, sounded good. He stole a glance at the dark bronze angels holding their fists up to the heavens. Why would his friend Pietro call those angels the Resplendent Ones? His mind wandered off dreamily with images of humiliation for the Medici and recovered grandeur for the Albizzi. Time will tell, his friend Pietro Manfredi had said …

  79

  Florence

  November 11, 1494

  Shouts of “Popolo e libertà” echoed loudly in the Piazza della Signoria, asking for parley through the unmistakable resounding of pealing bells. Parliament was only called to assemble when exceptional situations demanded that all citizens gather in the pi
azza and publicly express their wishes. When these demands were clear, they prevailed over any other government institution. And from what Lorena could see, it was very clear that the people were clamoring against the tyranny of Piero de Medici.

  The enormous square started filling up with men and women from all walks of life. Streams of people marched around following banners from the different districts of the city. Groups of armed men, rich citizens on horseback, artisans clutching hammers, farmers brandishing their hoes—all chanting the same slogan in unison “Popolo e libertà.” The same cry was coming from the houses, but not one single voice was heard to call out the “Palle, palle, palle” of the Medici.

  “It looks as if Piero’s days are numbered,” remarked Lorena. “Not even the combined forces of his mercenaries and followers could stand up to this multitude.”

  “You are probably right,” admitted Mauricio. “But I think we should return home just in case they decide to go into battle. We must not forget you are pregnant.”

  How could she possibly forget? It had been two months now since she had discovered she was expecting and shortly after announcing the happy news to Mauricio, he had sunk into a strange state of mind: his mood had become so melancholic that he could barely face leaving the house. Lorena attributed this to the catastrophic events that were taking place in Florence, yet it was precisely because of this that it was even more important for her husband to recover his vitality. She was at a loss to know how to raise his spirits, but what was most important now was to get home. With so many people wielding weapons and the angry mood of the crowd, anything could happen. Even the French soldiers who were now garrisoned in the city might take up sides with Piero de Medici.

  As they left the piazza they saw Cardinal Giovanni, Piero de Medici’s brother, arriving on horseback, flanked by a large group of soldiers. Surprisingly enough they were not shouting “Palle, palle, palle!” but “Popolo e libertà.” Doubtless the cardinal, having considered Piero’s downfall as inevitable, preferred to make it quite clear publicly that his position was also contrary to his brother’s. Or perhaps he had arrived with the intention of helping Piero and intimidating the mob with his men, but on seeing such a multitude had decided to back the winning horse in order to safeguard his physical integrity. Whichever it was, all weapons were turned toward them menacingly as the excited mob accused him of treason. Bringing the horses to a halt, the cardinal and his entourage turned on their heels without having managed to enter the piazza and without anybody having dared to engage with such a well-equipped retinue. Making the most of the gap they had left, Mauricio and Lorena were able to reach the exit leading out of the piazza.

  “Piero de Medici deserves everything that is happening to him,” said Lorena.

  “Yes he does,” said Mauricio. “In no more than two and a half years since his father’s death he has not only managed to exasperate the humble country folk and hardworking laborers, but also the most distinguished citizens and every kind of merchant … ”

  “Furthermore, his father left him such an excellent legacy that it was not easy to squander it all in such short a time!” exclaimed Lorena.

  “Yes, Piero dug his own grave by making enemies with his father’s advisers and surrounding himself with others who could not have been worse had they been chosen by his own enemies.”

  On arriving at the Via de’ Martelli, very near the Duomo, heralds of the Signoria were proclaiming out loud that anyone caught helping Piero de Medici would be condemned to death. Also that all foreigners were forbidden to carry weapons in public.

  Using the word “foreigner” was, in fact, a euphemism to avoid alluding directly to the French, who had unwittingly provoked the furious popular reaction against Piero de Medici. Lorena went over in her mind all the events that had occurred in the past few months. King Charles of France, spurred on by the Duke of Milan, had decided to claim his Angevin rights to the kingdom of Naples. Preparing their march, envoys of King Charles asked Piero for permission to pass freely through Tuscany and be provided with supplies as they did so. However, Piero, going against the opinion of the Florentines, sent the French emissaries a message of categorical refusal. This measure provoked anger among the citizens, in the first place because it could provoke a most terrible war against a formidable enemy over a matter that was strictly the concern of Naples, and secondly because the French were appreciated in Florence much more than the Neapolitans, whose king belonged to the house of Aragon. Furthermore, Savonarola had taken sides with King Charles some time ago and thanks to his charisma had persuaded the majority of Florentines that the French monarch was the instrument chosen by God to purify the sins of Italy with his sword. Florence, however, would be exempt from punishment if it repented of its sins. With this in mind, Savonarola had an audience with the king of France and advised him to invade Naples first, then Rome, in order to depose the depraved Pope Borgia and to abstain from causing any damage to the city of Florence.

  Lorena had doubted whether Savonarola would be capable of wielding the same influence on the French king as he did with his fellow citizens. The same doubt must have been gnawing away at Piero de Medici, for as soon as he heard that King Charles had entered Tuscan territory he was thrown into a state of complete panic. Incapable of reasoning calmly, he tried to emulate his father and rode out of the city to talk personally with the French monarch. Sadly though, just as he was resolute at a distance, once in the presence of the king of France he weakened and yielded, without a fight, the strongholds of Pisa, Sarzana, Pietrasanta, Fivizziano, Luligiana, and the port of Livorno. With the loss of these cities, Florence lost its eyes and its ears, after so much bloodshed and effort put into their conquest in the past. Florence was now in an extremely weak position, which had not been necessary, because although the French army was superior, its situation was not enviable either. In enemy territory, lacking supplies, surrounded by snowcapped mountains and lashed by winter winds, they were in an extremely precarious position. It is true they could have besieged the cities that had been handed over, reasoned Lorena, though this would have incurred enormous losses. And if these concessions were not enough, Piero had also invited the French army to set up residence in Florence until they decided to leave for Naples.

  Lorenzo’s son had demonstrated with his erratic behavior that he possessed none of his father’s qualities. The result was a situation that should never have been reached, as it would have been possible to come to a far more advantageous agreement. These thoughts, however, were just crying over spilled milk. Lorenzo, Italy’s compass, had died and the equilibrium was now broken. Piero was incapable of weaving together the delicate threads of diplomacy with the same subtlety as his father.

  It came as no surprise that the accumulated anger directed against Piero finally exploded in the face of a build-up of absurdities. On reaching their mansion, a sign on the door reminded Lorena of what was in store for them. A few days before, French emissaries had entered the city and marked with white chalk the houses in which their troops would lodge during their stay in Florence. It would certainly have been quicker to mark the ones that would not be occupied, because nearly all the houses in the city had been selected. In some of them, French troops were already established in advance of the rest of the army, which would soon be entering the city. In theory, they had promised to pay for the expenses they might incur during their stay in Florence, but the general opinion was that they would be lucky if the troops actually left the city without sacking it. To fling the doors of Florence wide-open for such a colossal army was far too risky an option.

  She had debated with Mauricio whether or not to put Simonetta in a convent while the occupation lasted. Unfortunately, if the French broke their word and started plundering, the outrages and raping of women and young girls was nearly guaranteed. They had finally discarded the idea, for were things to go that far, even convent walls would be incapable of protecting its occupants from the brutality of the soldiers.

  As they e
ntered their home, which soon they would be sharing with foreign mercenaries, Lorena pondered on her husband’s long silences. Mauricio had hardly opened his mouth since they had left the Via de’ Martelli. For weeks now, he had been strange and uncommunicative. She suspected that, apart from the critical situation which the city was undergoing, there was perhaps something else worrying Mauricio that he preferred to keep from her. It was a difficult time for commerce and business in general. Had he incurred debts that he was unable to repay? Maybe the rumors going around the city regarding his Jewish ancestry were causing him more pain than she thought was possible? Her husband was an exemplary Christian, but under Savonarola’s rigid influence more and more citizens were passing the most severe judgment on all those who did not strictly adhere to the preacher’s narrow vision. Was Savonarola truly a prophet or rather a false visionary? This was the question that was dividing the Florentines, although as far as she was concerned the only truly important question was: what was happening to her husband?

  Perhaps the answer was related to the strange looting of their country villa some weeks before. The assailants, making the most of the absence of the caretakers who had gone to Florence to make some purchases, caused havoc in the house and stole some valuable objects. But what proved to be most disturbing was that they had dug up the earth around the entire property, seemingly searching for hidden treasure. Mauricio had soothed Lorena, assuring her that it was an isolated robbery that any unprotected house was exposed to, but she feared that this violent incident was somehow related to the crisis Mauricio was suffering.

  80

  Night had already fallen when Luca returned home. Armed gonfalonieri lit up the night with their flaming torches. Hours of indiscriminate pillaging in the mansions of those closely connected with the Medici had led the Signoria into issuing a decree prohibiting looting under pain of death, while also ordering the guard to patrol the streets. It had been a confusing day, but Luca felt victorious. At long last, the Medici had been banished from Florence.