Renaissance Murders

by Michael Hone

  Maximilian requested Perkin’s freedom. Philip turned his back on Perkin, provoking his father Maximilian to note the boy’s willfulness and lack of cooperation. Katherine, bless her, remained faithful to Perkin, even after Henry had divulged all, but although Henry allowed them to meet at court, in public, he kept them separated physically, his way, perhaps, of unmanning the lad.

  The power of love-making has always totally amazed and captivated me. Where along the evolutionary line did something available to nearly every living thing on the planet become an obsession, to such an extent that psychologists say a boy is no longer controllable once he has wet his brush, as the French say (se tremper le pinceau). The concept rules the locker room, occupying every thinking moment and expression between young men: ‘’I made her cum three times last night.’’ Even the word fuck itself is the ultimate in the English language. In the throes of orgasm it’s cried out, as it is when a lad hits his finger with a hammer. Here Henry unmanned the boy Perkin by separating cock and cunt. At any rate, it was due to this deprivation that Perkin would attempt escape, and herald in his own death.

  Perkin was free to roam the royal premises and the grounds, on foot or horse, accompanied by two unarmed guards that those not in the know took for his servants. Perkin was in fact so free of restraints that Henry had to defend himself by saying that the boy was indeed being punished, this to the obvious disbelief of those who had access to both men. Perkin slept in a small room near the king’s, and had a tailor paid by Henry. He was at court with Simnel, and one wonders if they were not looked down on, both just lowly fakes, after all, of lesser importance than the fire-eater or sword-swallower who, at least, both earned their keep through amusing the court. Perhaps they were both just tolerated because Henry tolerated them, and the king was the measure of all things. For Perkin, without his Katherine, the humiliation must have been unbearable.

  All hell broke out when he escaped. The king offered 100 pounds for his capture, a huge sum. The reasons for Perkin’s escape are unknown: A need to physically reunite with Katherine, hatred at being penned up and exhibited, or perhaps Margaret and Maximilian had offered him exile as a free man. Henry was said to have been indifferent, and even though the boy had tried to usurp his place, had cost him a fortune, and had been the cause of the loss of thousands of lives, this may have become the case.

  He was caught four days later, totally undone, turned over by the monks from whom he had begged sanctuary. The end is painful to reveal. When Paris in Troy won a footrace, the crowds went wild in his favor because, said one, ‘’the boy is young and beautiful and when offered the laurels, he wept.’’(3) Perkin too was young, just 23, and beautiful, but he lost, and as such he was put on exhibit before the people who spat on him. News about the boy, his history, his adventures, his captivity, his escape and recapture, kept the known world breathless: Ferdinand and Isabella begged their ambassador to send more news of this Perkin; the Emperor of the Romans had dispatched a ship to his rescue the moment he learned of his flight; Charles VIII, King of France, jumped up and down with glee at Henry’s embarrassment, beside himself with joy; and James of Scotland, on his knees before God, begged Him to save the life of his friend, unaware that God’s chosen few had denied the boy sanctuary.

  Contrary to popular belief, the Tower had more or less furnished rooms--the richness of which depended on the importance of the occupant--not cells. Perkin’s was small, with a small bed, table and chair, and a window so small a single bar sufficed to make it escape-proof. Some occupants had freedom of movement throughout the Tower. Perkin did not and may even have worn shackles and an iron neck collar. The cleanliness of the rooms, their salubriousness, depended too on the nobility of the inhabitant.

  A delegation from Burgundy was sent by Margaret and Maximilian’s son Philip in order to resolve certain questions between Henry and Burgundy, one of which was the health of Perkin, of upmost importance to Margaret. Ferdinand and Isabella’s ambassador was invited to see the boy too, as the lad continued to be an obsession to the Spanish, a kind of pop star whose every movement was of significance. Henry himself escorted visiting royalty to Perkin’s room. In front of them Perkin admitted that he was a fake, news to none present but something Henry insisted on during every visit by outsiders. The Spanish ambassador claimed Henry had had the boy disfigured, that he had beaten the last remnant of beauty out of him. In public Henry expressed his disgust of Maximilian and James, and his utter hatred of Margaret, the mastermind behind the entire hoax, according to him. It seems that Margaret wrote to Henry, abjectly demanding his pardon.

  The reader may remember that on gaining power Henry had imprisoned Edward, the son of Clarence, brother of Eduard IV and Richard III. He had been imprisoned because he had had a better claim to the throne than Henry himself. Since then, plots unceasingly came to Henry’s ears concerning Yorkists who dreamed of having Edward on Henry’s throne. Other plotters wanted to place Perkin on the throne, as his right to it, as Edward IV’s son, was far stronger than Edward’s. It had become obvious, for years, that Henry would never know peace so long as both men continued to breathe.

  We know that both Perkin and Edward were allowed to share the same bed, with guards nearby who were there for the purpose of not leaving either man alone. These guards were also conveyers of messages from the outside so that at all times Perkin and Edward were aware of the plans to save them. Whether the guards were motivated by Yorkist loyalty or by gain or both depends on who recounts their stories. It is known too that the guards provided a human, comforting presence. The guards and Perkin and Edward were of the same age, young and virile. Perkin was age 24. Edward was age 24. Words and gestures of love between them were witnessed by others, sighs of lovemaking overhead, comforting solace that at the end neither Perkin nor Edward lacked for living presence and understanding.

  Henry had his fortune told by a priest, a practice forbidden since Roman times (because the information gleaned could be used against them). The priest foretold certain terrible events. Henry swore him to secrecy and then locked up everyone the priest spilled the beans to when in his cups.

  The four guardians responsible for Perkin and the four responsible for Edward were accused of treason for conspiring to free the prisoners. They were hanged until nearly dead, disemboweled, quartered (literally cut into four pieces) and beheaded. Edward was found guilty of treason and, thanks to his nobility, only beheaded. After all, he had been the son of a brother to two kings. Perkin was found guilty and hanged with the aid of a ladder that was carefully withdrawn, allowing the noose to tighten and gradually bring death by strangulation, as long as an hour later.

  This unique son of man ended his short journey on an earth wondrously bountiful, heartbreakingly beautiful and totally uncaring, having known vicissitudes well beyond those of mere mortals, having given of himself, having known the true devotion of a good woman and that of a loyal friend.

  THE PAZZI PLOT TO KILL IL MAGNIFICO

  1478

  Pope Sixtus IV had met the twenty-year-old Lorenzo de’ Medici and had found Lorenzo to be a darling boy, the reason he asked Lorenzo, as the head of the Medici banking system, for a loan of 40,000 florins in order to buy Imola. Sixtus wanted Imola as a gift to his son Girolamo Riario, whom the pope passed off as one of his numerous nephews. Because the pope already owed 10,000 florins to the Medici bank, Lorenzo hesitated, a hesitation that would cost him dearly. The pope, apoplectic, turned to the Pazzi, bankers who immediately agreed. The Pazzi were an old family with money that went way back. The manager of the Rome branch of the Pazzi bank, Francesco de’ Pazzi, hated Lorenzo whom he found arrogant and far too rich for a parvenu. He hatched a plan to assassinate both Lorenzo and his brother Giuliano. For this he turned to Girolamo Riario, now lord of Imola, and Francesco Salviati, an enemy of the Medici, whom Lorenzo had forbidden to cross Florentine territory. Salviati wanted to get to Pisa where Sixtus had named him archbishop and Lorenzo’s refusal to let him pass deprived him of
huge sums of money. The conspirators went to get Sixtus’s permission ‘’to take care of Lorenzo’’ which the pope gave, although piously adding that he wanted no bloodshed. The conspirators then went to see Jacopo de’ Pazzi, the head of the clan, who refused his consent until he was told that the pope himself had blessed the endeavor.

  Sixtus IV

  On the day of the planned murders, Easter Sunday, Francesco de’ Pazzi went to the Medici palace in search of Giuliano who said he wouldn’t be going to church because he felt ill. Giuliano was an exception among the Medici for several reasons. Although older than Lorenzo, he was never offered a position of real power by his brother. He was far handsomer than the younger Lorenzo and liked to think of himself as a woman killer, which made his entourage laugh because he lacked his brother’s charm, meaning that his bed was often empty whereas Lorenzo’s never lacked for company. In addition, the youths laughed behind his back because when he did find someone, far from being the heartless enslaver of women’s hearts he said he was, he would fall head over heels in love, love that invariably ended with his heart broken. Francesco de’ Pazzi was accompanied to Lorenzo’s palace to fetch Giuliano by Bernardo Baroncelli, a banker and friend of both Francesco and the Medici. They persuaded Giuliano to go to church, giving him a friendly manly hug when he consented--in order to find out if he was wearing armor under his cloak.

  In the cathedral Giuliano was separated from Lorenzo by a few yards. Sometime during the High Mass, thanks to a predefined signal, Baroncelli struck Giuliano with his dagger that pierced his brain. Francesco followed with more blows, twenty in all. Giuliano was dead before he hit the marble floor. Nearby two priests attached Lorenzo, one of whom nicked his neck with a dagger, but Lorenzo whipped off his cloak and held it up as protection, his sword already in his hand. As friends came to Lorenzo’s aid, the attackers fled. One friend risked his life by sucking the blood oozing from Lorenzo’s wound, afraid the dagger had been poisoned. Lorenzo ran to his palace, perhaps believing that his brother, whom he had not seen fall, had already returned there.

  Giuliano de’ Medici

  The second act of the drama took place at the Palazzo della Signoria, the Florentine Town Hall, a wonderful crenellated tower that overlooks the Piazza della Signoria and the God-inspired statue of Michelangelo’s David. Here Salviati, the man Lorenzo had forbidden to cross Florentine land so that he could take up his position as archbishop of Pisa, led a pack of thirty mercenaries. Due to the archbishop’s renown, he was allowed to enter the Palazzo della Signoria but due to his incredible nervousness the guards felt that something was terribly amiss. The archbishop was separated from his men who were invited into a nearby chamber that one the guards immediately locked. Government officials sounded the alarm, bells that tolled in emergencies, the ringing of which automatically set in motion the ringing of other bells in other churches surrounding Florence, until the entire countryside knew that something was wrong and, in response, sent armed men to the Piazza della Signoria. The moment the guards at the Palazzo found out what had happened, they killed the thirty followers of Salviati, throwing them from the windows of the crenellated tower. Francesco was found at his palace, badly wounded by a knife blow he had inflicted on himself while stabbing Giuliano. He was taken naked to the Palazzo and hung by the neck from an upper window. Archbishop Salviati himself was flung from the same window, in full vestments. Eerily, he sank his teeth into Francesco, perhaps in revenge for getting him into such a mess, perhaps to ease the noose around his neck, perhaps due to an involuntary convulsion.

  The fifty-seven-year-old Jacopo ran for his life into the country where he was recognized by peasants, arrested, sent to a dungeon and tortured. He was then taken to the Palazzo della Signoria from whose tower he too was hurtled, dressed only in his drawers. His body was cut down and pulled through the streets of Florence by boys beating it with sticks before being nailed to the door of his palace against which they banged his head, yelling out, ‘’Open up, the master is back!’’ Other deaths followed, more than a hundred in all as plotters and believed plotters were hounded down.

  Da Vinci drawing of Bernardo Baroncelli.

  Sixtus, sick with rage that an archbishop had been hung by the neck in his ceremonial robes, excommunicated all of Florence when the citizens refused to turn over Lorenzo to a papal court. The pope declared war on the city-state and turned to Lorenzo’s dear friend, King Ferrante of Naples, for troops which the king provided. The pope named Montefeltro, Duke of Urbino, to head the forces. Now old, the duke proved far less valorous than in times gone by. In the meantime, excommunication had put Florence in the position of a leper, cold-shouldered by its neighbors. Bands of armed youths descended on the city, robbing and raping and depriving it of food. Last rites couldn’t be given and so the dead couldn’t be buried. Later, when Sixtus saw that he needed Florence at his side in his attempt to mount a crusade against the Turks, he lifted the excommunication.

  Lorenzo Il Magnifico, a Renaissance glory.

  FERDINAND MAGELLAN

  1480 – 1521

  Ignorance and superstition took a huge hit when Ferdinand Magellan’s crew circumnavigated the world, proving it was not flat. The forces that push some men to do what they do are truly mindboggling, and both Alexander VI and Magellan possessed those forces. In 1494 Alexander VI divided the world in two parts, West of a line that divided the Atlantic down the middle went to Spain, the East went to Portugal. Alexander got the king of Spain to agree to the division and, while he was at it, he gave King Ferdinand and Queen Isabella permission to initiate the Inquisition and rid Spain of Jews and Moors (it must be remembered that Alexander, a Borgia, was himself Spanish). Magellan was a totally fearless warrior, many times wounded in battles against the Arabs. Magellan set out from Seville to discover a route to the Spice Islands, the source of spices that, at the time, far outweighed gold in value. He was given five ships--all totally black due to the pitch that covered even the masts--and 260 sailors, for the most part illiterate scum who thought only of their stomachs and scrotums. They sailed first to the Canary Islands and then to Brazil. During the trip a sailor was caught sodomizing a page. Pages, aged eight to fifteen, were shanghaied to do the menial jobs onboard. The general rule at sea was simply to look away when one was caught in a sex act, the norm being that sailors, in their teens and twenties, took care of each other’s carnal needs. For some unknown reason Magellan took offense now, perhaps because the boy was very young. The sailor was garroted (a rope encircled his throat and a stick--called garrote in Spanish--was introduced between the neck and rope and turned until the man was strangled to death). What happened to the lad is unclear. Either he jumped overboard or was thrown; at any rate, he too died. On the coast of Brazil the sailors enjoyed accepted sex with native women, the price being a nail or any other metal object. The crewmembers were careful not to venture far from the ships, as they knew that the natives practiced cannibalism and human sacrifices. The men suffered terribly from heat in summer, as well as from rats and mice that left feces and urine in their food, and lice, bedbugs and cockroaches.

  Alexander VI’s map dividing the world between the Spanish and the Portuguese.

  The Straits of Magellan were called, at the time, the Dragon’s Tail due to their incredible complexity. To find the passage Magellan had to investigate countless dead ends. Then winter set in. At this latitude winters were terrible: blizzards, storms, howling winds and cold so intense it was a wonder any of them survived. Magellan put the crew on half rations and because no one really believed that a passage existed and because Magellan was inflexible and unfeeling, mutiny was in the air. The first mutiny was foiled because a few crew members, loyal to Magellan, managed to trick the mutiny leader into thinking they were on his side, giving them the opportunity to grab him by the beard and plunge a dagger into both his throat and head. A priest who had taken part in the revolt was abandoned, in the snow, on an island, while other traitors were mercilessly beaten but not killed as they
were needed to run the ships. A few days later, under the cover of night, another ship mutinied by setting a course back to Spain. During my research I discovered an incredible quirk that existed at the time. Saints were listed as being veritable members of the crew! For example, Santo Antonio because he was known to rescue ships and Santa Barbara because she calmed storms. More incredible still, they received a percentage of the profits when the ships returned to port, profits that were turned over to the church.