Death in Florence: the Medici, Savonarola and the Battle for the Soul of the Renaissance City

by Paul Strathern

  Just a week after the riot in Florence Cathedral, Alexander VI finally decided to act against Savonarola. Previously he had held back, expecting the entire situation to be resolved by Piero de’ Medici’s restoration, followed by Florence joining the Holy League. But now Piero had failed, and Savonarola continued to defy Alexander VI, to the point where things were getting out of hand and the pope saw no alternative but to assert his authority. At last he took the ultimate step of officially excommunicating Savonarola ‘on suspicion of heresy’.3 This banned him from preaching, administering or taking Holy Communion, whilst at the same instructing that ‘all people are forbidden to assist him in any way, either to speak to him or to approve of anything he does or says, or they too will be excommunicated’. However, in order to take effect, the pope’s Brief of Excommunication had to be delivered from Rome to Florence, a task that Alexander VI was aware might involve some difficulty. Significantly, this was entrusted to the learned theological scholar Gianvittorio da Camerino, who just two months earlier had delivered a sermon in Florence vehemently attacking Savonarola. Despite the Signoria’s Arrabbiati sympathies, they had viewed da Camerino’s sermon as a flagrant incitement to civil disorder and had expelled him from the city, a sentence that put him in line for the death-penalty if he returned. The choice of da Camerino was almost certainly influenced by the pope’s advisers, notably Genazzano, and was intended as a direct provocation with the aim of bringing matters to a head.

  Da Camerino set out at once from Rome for Florence, but on entering Tuscan territory he became mindful of the fact that, despite his position as the pope’s emissary, this might not in fact grant him full diplomatic immunity from the Signoria’s decree. In consequence, he quietly withdrew to the safety of Siena, where he sent a message ahead to the Signoria in Florence requesting a letter granting him safe conduct so that he could fulfil his papal mission. There was no immediate reply to this; indeed, after more than three weeks of waiting it became clear to da Camerino that his message was unlikely to receive acknowledgement of any kind. The Signoria was well aware of the purpose of da Camerino’s mission, and the effect upon the city that its successful accomplishment was liable to cause. Meanwhile in Rome the pope was unable to ascertain the whereabouts of da Camerino: his Brief of Excommunication appeared to have vanished into thin air. After almost a month of waiting, da Camerino decided to entrust copies of the papal Brief to an anonymous courier, who was instructed to deliver these to the five centres of clerical opposition to Savonarola in Florence for whom they were intended – most notably the Franciscan Church of Santa Croce, the Church of Santa Maria Novella (whose Dominicans remained loyal to the pope), as well as the Augustinian Church of Santo Spirito. And it was at these five churches, on 18 June, before their gathered Sunday congregations, that Savonarola’s excommunication by the pope was formally proclaimed with bell, book and candle.4 This time-honoured ritual involved the solemn tolling, as at a funeral (the bell), the closing of the Bible (the book) with the proclamation ‘We judge him damned, with the Devil and his angels, to the eternal fires of Hell’, and finally the snuffing out of the flame of a taper (the candle) to mark the exclusion of the excommunicated soul from the light of God. At Santo Spirito, this ritual was triumphantly performed by Savonarola’s enemy Fra Leonardo da Fivizzano, who had preached against him throughout the previous Lent.

  Savonarola’s reply was soon in coming. The very next day he wrote, and had printed for distribution, a letter entitled Contro la escomunicazione surrettizia (‘Against surreptitious excommunication’). Indicatively, this was written not in scholarly Church Latin, but in Italian, the language of the people, and was addressed ‘To All Christians and those beloved of God’.5 In this letter, Savonarola defended himself against Rome, making it quite clear that he had no intention of accepting his excommunication and rallying his faithful flock around him, claiming: ‘God will vouchsafe us from all danger and grant us a great victory.’ Soon afterwards he would publish a second letter, in Latin, entitled Contra sententiam excommunicationis (‘Against sententious excommunications’). This was intended for the eyes of the theologians, together with other academics and learned authorities, and in it he brought the full power of his intellect and learning to bear on the matter of his excommunication. He had only been accused of ‘suspicion of heresy’: there had been no proof or evidence given, no charge had been brought against him, there had been no trial, and he had not been found guilty. In this more scholarly defence he quoted precedents where members of the clergy had been urged to defy wrongful excommunications. He even went so far as to recall the advice issued earlier in the century by Martin V, the much-admired pope whose election had brought an end to the Great Schism.fn1 Martin V had pronounced that Christians were under no obligation to ignore anyone who had been excommunicated, unless explicit papal instructions had been issued to do so. Despite Alexander VI having done precisely this, Savonarola felt himself to be under no obligation to cease preaching. On 19 June, the very day after his excommunication by Alexander VI had been publicly read from the pulpits of five of Florence’s major churches, Savonarola preached a sermon at San Marco that attracted a large crowd of his admirers from throughout the city.

  Yet by this time the atmosphere in Florence had undergone a transformation. The new Arrabbiati Signoria had begun relaxing many of the prohibitions put in place by earlier Signoria on the advice of Savonarola. On 11 June, Landucci recorded:

  The paliofn2 of Santa Barbara was held. This race has not been run for years in Florence, because of Savonarola’s sermons. This Signoria decided that it should be allowed to take place, ignoring Savonarola, saying: ‘Let’s cheer the people up a little; should we all behave like monks?’6

  A week later, news of Savonarola’s excommunication had been greeted with outbreaks of public rejoicing – in part spontaneous, but certainly encouraged by the Bigi and the Arrabbiati. The less virulent Tiepidi and the secular liberal Bianchi also welcomed the apparent end of Savonarola’s rule. People danced in the piazzas and prostitutes reappeared overnight in the streets where they had traditionally been permitted. Public ballads ridiculing Savonarola, his monks and the Piagnoni were circulated and sung in the revived taverns, whilst crowds gathered outside San Marco to jeer at Savonarola and his followers, singing their ballads and yelling obscenities.

  Yet these revelries took place against a background of public alarm, which may well have played a part in inspiring the devil-may-care attitude of the revellers. As many had feared, after the reports of isolated cases of the plague in the slums during the winter, the advent of summer – with the usual putrid smells and increased vermin pervading the streets – brought a more serious outbreak of the disease. Landucci’s diary makes grim reading, and what it recorded must have sent a chill through the heart of all Florentines, whether rejoicing or lamenting the rescinding of Savonarola’s puritan laws:

  28th June. They say there were 60 deaths a day from fever.

  30th June. The plague has struck in several houses in the city, and in

  eight houses in the Borgo di Ricorbolifn3 …

  3rd July. Yet more houses infected with plague have been discovered, making everyone think of fleeing.

  In the midst of all this, the pro-Savonarolan Domenico Bartoli was elected gonfaloniere and took up office on 1 July, and this fortuitous appointment may well have saved Savonarola’s life, preventing the Arrabbiati from taking things into their own hands.

  *

  Fresh supplies of corn were beginning to reach the city from the port of Livorno, and the new administration immediately took measures to alleviate the suffering of the Piagnoni. At one time the price of corn had risen to well over five lire (100 soldi). By 8 July the new administration had ensured sufficient reserves for Landucci to record: ‘The officials of the Abbondanzafn4 fixed the price of corn at the corn market at 35 soldi.’ Even so, this was still over double the normal price.

  Throughout July the situation remained conflicted, but not vio
lently so, largely because of the depleted population. Landucci recorded:

  29th July. There was an eclipse of the sun, and many people were dying of plague and fever, which caused the city to empty itself of its inhabitants, everyone who could going into the country.

  Many of the superstitious, especially amongst the poor who were unable to retire to the country, saw the eclipse as an evil omen, whilst amongst the others who stayed behind in the city were a number who remained secretly determined to overthrow the government.

  Back in Rome, Piero de’ Medici had finally fallen out with his close friend Lamberto dell’Antella, putting him in fear of his life. Although dell’Antella was exiled from Florence, he decided to travel to Siena, from where he wrote to various influential friends in Florence, imploring them to appeal to the Signoria on his behalf, begging for a pardon. If he was allowed to return, dell’Antella made it plain that he was willing to provide the Signoria with much vital information concerning the Medici and the activities of their supporters in Rome.

  Following Piero de’ Medici’s abortive invasion, the Signoria had set up an elaborate spy network in the countryside surrounding the city, so that they could receive at once any information concerning the approach of travellers who might be reconnoitring for any future invasion. When dell’Antella became impatient with the lack of any reply from Florence, and decided to pay a clandestine visit to his family estate just four miles outside the city, the authorities were at once alerted of his movements. As he approached his estates he was arrested and taken to Florence under armed escort. Here he was immediately subjected to the usual treatment meted out to such prisoners: he was tortured by the traditional Florentine method known as the strappado. This involved the prisoner’s hands being bound behind his back and then hooked to a pulley, which was raised, hauling the prisoner into the air suspended by his wrists. The pulley was then released so that his body dropped until he was suspended just above the ground, his fall broken by the rope tied around his wrists. The pain was excruciating, and the drop was liable to dislocate the shoulders (which would then be manipulated back into place by an attendant surgeon, so that the procedure could continue). Prisoners would be subjected to several strappados, usually in the presence of members of the policing committee and some of the Signoria, so that they could hear at first hand his confession.

  Dell’Antella’s motives for returning to Florence do not appear to have been entirely pure, for when he was arrested he was found to be carrying a number of secret messages. After several strappados dell’Antella produced the names of the people for whom these documents were intended, as well as confessing all that he knew about the activities of the Medici and their supporters in Rome.fn5 Dell’Antella then named the leading citizens in Florence whom Piero de’ Medici had sworn to put to death on his return to power, and he also confessed a whole list of traitors within the city who were actively plotting to overthrow the government in favour of the return of Piero de’ Medici. Before fleeing into exile to join Piero de’ Medici, dell’Antella had accumulated several enemies amongst the influential families of Florence and certainly had several old scores to settle. As a result, many contemporaries (including those present at his confession) had certain doubts about the extensive list of ‘traitors’ that eventually emerged.

  The Signoria immediately began making plans for the arrest of those on the list. Amongst these were several eminent figures and members of the city’s most distinguished families. They included Gino Capponi, Andrea de’ Medici (a relative of Lorenzo di Pierfrancesco), Lorenzo Tornabuoni (from the family of Lorenzo the Magnificent’s wife), the leading Bigi member Niccolò Ridolfi, and even former gonfaloniere Bernardo del Nero, who had refused to open the city gates for Piero. The last three were so unsuspecting of their predicament that when they were invited to the Palazzo della Signoria they attended voluntarily, assuming that they were to be consulted for advice concerning the difficult situation in which dell’Antella’s confessions had placed the city. All three, including the seventy-two-year-old del Nero, were immediately arrested, marched off to the police headquarters at the Bargello and subjected to the strappado.

  Just five days after dell’Antella’s arrest, Landucci recorded:

  10 August. Everyone in the city was talking about what should be done with the prisoners; some said they were not guilty, others insisted they were guilty.7

  These three, along with two others, were put on trial on 17 August. All five were quickly found guilty and sentenced to death, with their families banished into exile. In line with the reforms brought in at Savonarola’s suggestion, their defence counsel Messer Guidantonio Vespucci lodged an appeal. The city was soon filled with wild, conflicting rumours as to their fate. Were they in fact innocent? Would the Signoria dare to put to death such important citizens? If they were put to death would this inflame the situation, causing an outbreak of civil war? News now spread that Piero de’ Medici had bestirred himself from Rome and had travelled once more to Siena, hoping to recruit sufficient troops to march on Florence. This time his appearance at the city walls was bound to provoke an uprising of some sort. The appeal of the five men sentenced to death had to be dealt with as soon as possible.

  A matter of such great importance could only be democratically decided by a meeting of the Great Council. Yet there was simply no time to summon sufficient members, as so many had left the city for their farms and villas in the countryside. This was very much the custom during the hot months of summer, but the outbreaks of the plague and fever had resulted in a particularly large exodus that year. Consequently, the idea of calling a meeting of the Great Council was dismissed, and instead on 21 August the pro-Savonarolan gonfaloniere Domenico Bartoli used his prerogative to summon the smaller council known as the Pratica. This consisted of around 200 men, including the Signoria, senior figures in the administration and others of experience in the city. They would debate the merits of the appeal by the five condemned men, which would then be decided by a vote of the Signoria. The condemned remained in their cells at the nearby Bargello and were not permitted to be present at their appeal, nor was their defence lawyer Messer Vespucci allowed to attend; Savonarola, who held no post in the administration, was of course also absent, though his views were certainly represented. From the outset, those present were bitterly divided. The meeting began in the morning, and would continue through the afternoon and on into the night. Soldiers patrolled the Piazza della Signoria outside, in order to prevent any public demonstrations, and at eleven o’clock that night they heard the raised voices of men shouting in anger, from the open windows of the palazzo above them where the meeting was taking place. The very nature of the republic, and its future course, was being argued out amidst the flames of the flickering candles. All five of the condemned were important citizens – members of ancient distinguished families, prosperous merchants, senior guild members, a former gonfaloniere. Despite their known pro-Medici sympathies, they were moderates. They were also respected, for the most part popular figures (even with many who favoured Savonarola), and few amongst the citizenry at large were convinced of their guilt. If such men could be summarily executed, their families stripped of their assets and despatched into exile, this would mark a serious transformation in the politics of the republic. Such a prospect stirred fierce passions, and by midnight the meeting to discuss the appeal had degenerated to the extent that:

  the Palace that night was like a forge, or rather, a cavern of fury, and all the men present driven by contempt and as if by a mad rage, with weapons in hand, wounding words, and full of quarrels … so that a number of noblemen feared for their safety.8

  Still the situation remained in deadlock. For the appeal to be successful, six of the eight Signoria had to vote in favour, but by now only four or five had been convinced. At one point the nobleman Carlo Strozzi advanced on the seated Signoria, seized Piero Guicciardinifn6 and threatened to throw him from the opened window into the square below if he did not reverse his vote and
come out against the appeal. This physical attack constituted a serious crime, but by now matters had progressed far beyond legal niceties. Indeed, the contemporary Cerretani goes so far as to claim that if the defence lawyer Vespucci had been present, and had begun putting forward arguments in favour of the defendants, he would certainly have been thrown out of the window.

  At two in the morning the meeting was finally brought to a climax by Francesco Valori, the leader of the Piagnoni, who had also been appointed to a senior post in the administration. According to the historian Guicciardini (who doubtless heard a first-hand account from his father):

  Francesco Valori at last leapt to his feet in a rage, seizing the ballot box in his hand and pounding loudly on the table before the Signoria, demanding that either justice be done or all hell would break loose. He then gave a fierce ultimatum, declaring that either he would die or the conspirators would die.9 fn7

  This particular confrontation caused one member of the Signoria, an artisan called Niccolò Zati, to fear for his own safety. As a result he decided to change his vote, casting it against the appeal, thus making up the required six votes. The death-penalty was confirmed. Immediately word was sent to the public executioner, and with undue haste the five condemned men were led out of their cells, one by one, barefoot and in chains, to the traditional place of execution, the courtyard of the Bargello. The executioner’s block was surrounded by a layer of hay, and after each beheading a further layer of hay was spread over this so as to prevent the condemned man from seeing the splattered blood of his predecessor. By four in the morning it was all over.