"My word is pledged to the King of France," he replied disdainfully, "and go I must."

Duke Ercole, in a letter delivered to Cosimo by Alfonso, urged the former not in any way to dissuade his son from carrying out his intention. It was common knowledge, however, in Ferrara, and reported by members of the Prince's retinue to the courtiers of Florence, that Henry II. of France had made known to Duke Ercole his intention of repaying the three hundred thousand gold ducats he owed Ferrara. A condition accompanied the proposal, namely, that the Duke should withdraw from the alliance, and despatch his son at once to Paris, to a.s.sure the _bona fides_ of the new arrangement.

Moreover, Henry hinted not only at the advisability of separating the too youthful couple, and of giving the Prince military employment until his young wife attained a more mature age; but suggested that some way should be found, even at the eleventh hour, of allying Alfonso to a French princess.

Nevertheless, Alfonso claimed his Florentine bride, whilst Lucrezia appears to have conceived an attachment for the warlike young Prince, who caused a courier to inform his father that the Princess "seemed to like" him. Duke Ercole replied as follows: "I am much pleased that your bride is satisfied with you. I would rather have heard your own state of mind in regard to the matter...."

Letters to the Duke from the chief members of the Prince's suite a.s.sured him that the Prince really fell in love with the Princess at first sight, but there is no word of Alfonso's extant which shows that he cared in the least for the bride State policy had a.s.signed for him.

d.u.c.h.ess Eleanora was exceedingly provoked by the young Prince's demeanour and his insistence upon the observance of the unnatural condition. Moreover, she protested to the Duke her wish that the marriage might at least be postponed, pointing out, with a woman's intuition of trouble, that no good could come out of such an uncanny arrangement.

She, of course, was Spanish, and she seems to have forgotten that French blood flowed in Alfonso's veins--his mother, d.u.c.h.ess Renata, or Renea, being a daughter of Louis XII. Duke Ercole added to the trouble by deeply wounding the d.u.c.h.ess' susceptibilities with a suggestion that the young bride should be sent to Ferrara, immediately after the nuptial ceremony, under the care of chosen proxies for his son.

Haughtily she answered the Duke's representative: "A married daughter of the Medici, and of Spain, remains at her parents' palace until her husband, and no one else, takes her away."

The day fixed for the marriage was 3rd July--a Sunday--and the wedding Ma.s.s was celebrated in the private chapel of the Palazzo Pitti, by the Bishop of Cortona. One hundred and one comely Florentine gentlewomen formed a beauteous guard of honour for the bride, each arrayed splendidly in silk brocade and covered with costly jewels. As many young n.o.bles, with the accompaniment of music and dancing, performed a gorgeous pageant of Greeks, Indians and Florentines. In the Piazzo di Santa Maria Novella a State exhibition of the popular Florentine game of _Il Calcio_ (football), was given by sixty of the best-looking and most n.o.ble youths, attired in cloths of gold and silver.

The bride and bridegroom retired late at night to the Palazzo Medici in the Via Larga, set in order for them, but, on the third day, Prince Alfonso, as good as his word, set off for France! Don Francesco, Lucrezia's eldest brother, accompanied him as far as Scarperia, on the Bologna road, and there bade him a not too friendly farewell. The young man had made a very bad impression in Florence; he had kept himself entirely to himself, and had gone through his part of the ceremonials like a puppet.

Lucrezia moved like the fabled princess in a dream. Her eyes were wet with weeping, and, although she restrained her emotion, her disappointment and distress caused her silent and bitter suffering.

Accustomed as she was to obey implicitly the commands of her autocratic father, she knew that she must submit to the harshness of her spouse, and make the best of a most unfortunate and embarra.s.sing situation.

Alfonso had forbidden her to write to him, but appointed a faithful follower of his, Francesco da Susena, as confidential Chamberlain of the youthful Princess. He was to provide funds and disburse them for the expenses of the Princess, and to keep his master well posted in all that transpired, and, in particular, to inform him of every word and action of his forsaken girl-wife!

Ten days after the departure of the Prince from Florence, he wrote a letter to Lucrezia, which he bade da Susena read, and then give her. The Court was at Poggio a Caiano in _villeggiatura_, and the Chamberlain was in the company. He gave the Princess her husband's letter, and made the following report to his master:--

"I was taken to the slope of a hill, where Her Highness the Princess was walking with the d.u.c.h.ess Eleanora, who is always with her. I gave her the letter, which she took greedily, with exceeding joy, and retired apart with it. She read it over and over again, and then she questioned me about your Highness.... I told her that she had no occasion to fear, for your Highness would run no more risk than the king himself. She appeared much comforted, and told me to beg your Highness, in her name, to hasten your return to Florence." Within six months of Lucrezia's ill-fated marriage, Duke Ercole died at Ferrara, and her husband succeeded as Alfonso II. The life of Ercole and his d.u.c.h.ess Renata had been anything but happy. He was as ambitious as he was unscrupulous: Lord of Modena and Reggio and Papal Vicar of Ferrara, his possessions stretched from the Adriatic to the Apennines. Extravagant and devoted to amus.e.m.e.nt, he spared neither time nor money in the full enjoyment of pleasure.

The Court of Ferrara became under him the most splendid Court in Europe--famous for the excellence of its music and its dancing and the superiority of its theatre--Carnival lasted from New Year's Day to Ash Wednesday. d.u.c.h.ess Renata never loved her husband nor his people. Until she fell under the influence of Calvin she was discontented, pa.s.sionate, and bigoted. The Duke scouted her ill-humour and treated her cruelly.

"_Peu d'amys, qui conques est loing d'eulx_" was said of unhappy Renata.

She gave her disposition to her son, but he did not follow her religious predilections. He enclosed her in a convent--the sanctuary of princely widows and orphans--where she died in 1597.

Duke Alfonso sent to Florence for his consort early in 1560, but, true to her determination, d.u.c.h.ess Eleanora required him to come for Lucrezia in person! With perhaps less frigidity than he had exhibited the year before, but with very little more friendliness, Alfonso made his second appearance in Florence. He was accompanied by Cardinal de' Medici, his brother-in-law--so soon to come to a tragical and untimely end in the Maremma--and a princely escort of two thousand five hundred hors.e.m.e.n.

The young d.u.c.h.ess, not yet sixteen, mounted upon a cream-white palfrey, rode out of the Porta San Gallo, by the side of her husband. The day was gloomy and the purple and white crocuses, which children scattered before her, betokened, so it was said, disaster.

Anyhow, it was a sorrowful parting with her parents, and with Florence.

Never again was she destined to see them or it. The days of her childhood, spent happily enough with her brothers and sisters, were over: the fatigues and intrigues of a hostile Court were before her, and, already, trouble had marked her young life with scars--more were to follow.

The Duke and d.u.c.h.ess entered Ferrara in full State, on 21st February, but their reception was as cold as was the weather. The dynastic dispute, whilst ostensibly healed at its head, still affected the limbs of the Duchy. The people were, to a man, and perhaps to a woman, anti-Medicean, and showed their disapproval of their Sovereign's consort, by abstaining from taking their share in the festivities.

One's heart bleeds for this child-bride of seven months introduced unguarded to the gayest, maddest, and most corrupt Court in Italy. Of the Ferrarese it has been justly said: "By nature they are inclined only for pleasure and revenge." True enough, happiness and tragedy are close partners in life's story. No one loved Lucrezia de' Medici in Ferrara--least of all her husband.

Perhaps the position may be succinctly stated--"the bride of three nights was not _enceinte_! Had she only possessed the attributes of coming motherhood, Lucrezia's origin might have been condoned. But surely it was foul cruelty which fixed the fault on her alone. As it was, the poor young d.u.c.h.ess was accorded at her husband's court the position of a '_Cosa della lussuria_'--to be set aside as soon as the novelty had pa.s.sed away!"

The d.u.c.h.ess determined, possessed as she undoubtedly was, though so young, of much of the force of character of her family, to put a good face upon things. Her letters to her parents, written during the Carnival, are full of pleasant details of her new life. She was enjoying, with girlish zest, the gaieties around her, and entering fully into the merry prospects of the Court masquerades. Whether her expressions are quite sincere, is, perhaps, immaterial under the circ.u.mstances--she knew her father's disposition too well to make complaints.

The anniversary of her wedding came round to find her childless and devoid of any prospect of issue. Duke Alfonso was far too much engaged in politics and pleasure to give his due to his wife, who yearned in vain for the fulfilment of the conjugal vow. d.u.c.h.ess Renata had her party at Court, a party opposed, as she was, to anything and everything Florentine: her son gave heed to her cautions, and thus the breach widened.

Alfonso's long absences from home, and his disinclination for his wife's society, left Lucrezia to seek necessary consolations elsewhere. She did not fail of admirers in that giddy Court: the wonder is that she maintained her dignity as well as she did. The Duke became jealous, of course, of his neglected wife--all faithless husbands are the same. He paid spies to report to him the daily occupations of the d.u.c.h.ess, with the names of her visitors and friends. Thus evil eyes and ears were opened, and evil tongues began to wag, until they caused the utter undoing of the innocent young d.u.c.h.ess.

Alfonso, in vain, tried to fix the lovers of his wife--she was as tactful as they were prudent--but he was not without means to his end.

The d.u.c.h.ess early gave symptoms of ill-health. In Florence she was the strongest of all her father's family, but at Ferrara she became delicate and a victim to incessant sickness. What could it be?

The Court physician hinted at pregnancy, but the Duke knew that was impossible, so far as he was personally concerned, nevertheless it served its purpose. The winter came on and the d.u.c.h.ess was confined to her apartments in the palace, suffering from continual fever and nausea.

Maestro Bra.s.savola--of good report as a specialist in feminine ailments--treated her unsuccessfully. Unhappy Lucrezia--no mother to console her, no friend to speak to her, all alone in the big palace with unkindly attendants--nearly sobbed herself to death. Daily bleedings and cuppings further diminished her strength. Some say that Don Francesco, her brother, was urged, by his mother, to pay Lucrezia a visit, but the bad terms upon which he stood with Duke Alfonso was an effectual bar to his mission. Whether from craven fear or premeditated cruelty, the Duke never entered the sick-room, and seemed entirely indifferent to his poor young wife. Indeed, he continued his life of prodigality and self-indulgence unrebuked, as we must suppose, by his conscience.

At last the d.u.c.h.ess' condition became so critical that the physicians could no longer disguise the danger, and they intimated to the Duke the approach of death. Then, and then only, Alfonso found his way to his wife's bedside. With a sorrowful, stricken face she greeted him affectionately, and remorse seemed, at length, to have brought him to his senses. He became the most tender of nurses and watched by his dying wife day and night--but the _poison_ had worked its cause!

At midnight, 21st April 1561, after months of cruel suffering, neglected, affronted, and wronged, the innocent soul of poor young Lucrezia, d.u.c.h.ess of Ferrara, pa.s.sed into another world. She was not yet seventeen years old--in bitter experience of life's hardships she was seventy. At the autopsy of her body Maestro Pasquali of Florence declared that death was caused by putrid fever! Thus was the Duke's duplicity preserved.

Funeral honours due to her rank were rendered, and her shrunken little body was buried in the Estensi chapel of the convent church of Corpus Domini. A marble slab before the high altar reads thus:

"_Lucretia de' Medici--moglie di Alfonso II., Duca di Ferrara_"--and that is all--as curt and as cruel as possible. The Duke's show of grief was as insincere and hypocritical as could be. He shut himself up in his palace with a few chosen cronies for seven days; meanwhile sending off Bishop Rossetto, a court chaplain, to Florence, to communicate the sad tidings to Duke Cosimo and d.u.c.h.ess Eleanora.

Very soon after the death of Lucrezia the Marchese Creole de' Contrari, a prominent Ferrarese n.o.ble, was cast into prison upon an unstated charge, but it was given out by his jailor, that he had aspired to the hand of an Estensi princess. He was never seen alive again, for he was strangled in Duke Alfonso's presence--who caused his name to be vilely linked with that of the poisoned d.u.c.h.ess! Cosimo and Eleanora made a show at least of grief, and a splendid _Requiem_ was sung for Lucrezia at the Medici church of San Lorenzo. At the same time Cosimo made known, in most heartless fashion to Alfonso that, whilst he was resigned to the will of Heaven, he a.s.sured him of his sincere affection, and expressed a fervent wish that nothing should loosen their bonds of true and solid friendship! Devout d.u.c.h.ess Eleanora's indifference is harder to explain than Duke Cosimo's nonchalance. Perhaps in her case evil a.s.sociations had corrupted good manners, or, more likely, the memory of her child Maria's terrible death compelled discretion in her dealings with her husband--"Tyrant of tyrants." It might be her turn next to feel that cold steel!

And what about Duke Alfonso? Well, very soon he forgot all about Lucrezia, and found consolation, though actually he needed none, in a second marriage. This union, however, led to the resurrection of the hatchet of discord, which Cosimo and Ercole had agreed to bury underground.

The new d.u.c.h.ess was Barbara d'Austria, sister of the Archd.u.c.h.ess Giovanna, bride of Don Francesco, poor Lucrezia's brother. A double wedding was fixed at Trento in August 1565, but a fracas occurred at the church doors between the Medici and Estensi suites for precedence. The two princely couples were married separately by the Emperor Maximilian's command, each in the capital of the bridegroom's dominions. Duke Alfonso died in in 1597.

One notable effect of the foreign marriages of the Medicean princes was the settling of aliens, in considerable numbers, in Florence. With Clarice and Alfonsina d'Orsini had come greedy Roman adventurers; with Margherita and Giovanna d'Austria many enterprising Germans; self-seeking Spaniards came with Eleanora de Toledo.

From one point of view this foreign immigration was advantageous--it tended to revive the falling fortunes of Florentine commerce. On the other hand aliens were introduced into prominent positions at the Court and in the city, whose speculations robbed the citizens of their fame and fortune.

In the suite of d.u.c.h.ess Eleanora de Toledo were several young relatives, bound to her by ties of affection and looking to her for patronage and advancement. The ranks of these dependants were constantly being recruited by young people of n.o.ble birth, for whom the exceptional educational advantages obtainable in Florence were strong attractions.

One of these was the d.u.c.h.ess's niece and G.o.dchild--Donna Eleanora, the daughter of her brother, Don Garzia de Toledo. Born in 1553 in Naples, where her father kept his Court as Viceroy for the King of Spain, the child lost her mother when she was only seven years old. The d.u.c.h.ess Eleanora adopted her and sent to Naples for her, and little Eleanora de Garzia was brought up with the children of Cosimo and Eleanora, and she was regarded by them as their sister.

Upon the d.u.c.h.ess' melancholy death in 1562, her daughter Isabella, d.u.c.h.ess of Bracciano, acted the part of mother, young as she was, and only just two years married. She had no child of her own, and, apparently, no promise of one, anyhow by her husband; and the lively, pretty little Spanish girl, nestling upon her knee, much consoled her in her disappointment.

At fourteen, Eleanora de Garzia was, as Antonio Lapini has described her: "Beautiful, elegant, gracious, kindly, charming, affable, and, above all, possessed of two eyes rivalling the stars in brilliancy." She was also a clever girl, and her studies had been carried on in companionship with the younger children of her aunt--Garzia, Ferdinando, and Piero. The strictness of their control was loosened when the Duke became a widower, and he does not seem to have done anything to guard the morals of his young children.

The Court of Florence was not the place in which to rear, in ways of obedience and steadiness, young boys and girls, and Eleanora and her "brothers" were left pretty much to themselves, save for the indulgent guardianship of their tutors and attendants. To be sure, Don Ferdinando was sent off to Rome when he was fourteen, and was enrolled in the Sacred College. Don Garzia's tragic death in 1562 left Don Piero the sole playmate of little Eleanora--a strange act of Providence.

Duke Cosimo was not quite inconsolable for the loss of his Spanish wife; he had, during her lifetime, set an evil example in Florence for libertinage and unchast.i.ty. Every good-looking girl, in city or at Court, in one way or another, received his amorous attentions; and the halo which surrounded his first acclamation as Duke, and which he earned well, be it said, became dimmed by the execrations of many disgraced and suffering households. Men and women saw the bad days of Duke Alessandro revived, and Florence, after a temporary purgation, became once more the sink of iniquity.

When the Duke laid aside, in 1564, his sovereignty, it was that he might give reins to his pa.s.sions, and, of the many girls he ruined, probably not one he loved better or longer than Eleanora degli Albizzi. At Villa del Castello he had his harem. This was the example Cosimo de' Medici set his wayward, precocious son Piero, and the lad followed it to his heart's content, until his escapades became so notorious, and raised up such a storm of resentment amongst the citizens, that his father was forced to intervene.

At fifteen, young Piero was sent off to Pisa and attached to the staff of the Admiral of the Florentine fleet, Cavaliere Cesare Cavanglia. In various encounters with Turkish galleons and the barques of buccaneers, the young Medico proved himself no coward--indeed the Admiral reported of him most favourably. Well for his fame had Piero remained before the mast and upon the quarter-deck.

The lad was practically his own master, and the memories of Florentine gallantries filled his mind with desires for their resumption. Two years of naval-military discipline were quite enough for him, and he returned home again. He found Donna Eleanora de Garzia a grown woman and a woman of the world; an arrant flirt, like her protectress, the d.u.c.h.ess Isabella; dividing her time between the Villa Poggio Baroncelli and his father's villa at Castello.

Rumours of illicit intercourse between her and the Grand Duke were current all over Florence, and evil gossips at Court affirmed that the _liaison_ had been of long continuance, wherein, too, the d.u.c.h.ess Isabella was herself implicated. Cosimo seems to have been conversant with the t.i.ttle-tattle, and, fearing the evil effect it might have for all concerned, determined to take the bull by the horns, so to speak, and to keep the scandal within the family.

His son Piero--who was walking closely in his father's footsteps, and leading a free and fast, wild life, heavily in debt and habitually intoxicated, and the companion of loose women and gamesters--should be his scapegoat. He would marry him to his cousin! At the beginning of the negotiations Piero refused stoutly his father's proposition, a.s.serting his intention not to marry. By dint of ample offers of enlarged pecuniary emoluments and by tempting promises of exculpation from the consequences of his l.u.s.tful extravagances, Piero at last yielded an unwilling a.s.sent to the betrothal. How far he was influenced by threats we can well imagine.