Piero de' Medici and Eleonora de Garzia de Toledo were married in the private chapel of the Pitti Palace on the morning of 21st April 1571.

That very night his young wife revealed the fact that she was _enceinte_, and she named his father, Duke Cosimo, as her ravisher! The Prince was too much taken up with his own pleasure to care very much about this revelation: he would go his own way, and his wife might go hers--such was the morality of the day! Still, this discovery was the first page in the tragic history of beautiful Eleanora di Piero de'

Medici.

Very shortly after the marriage Eleanora, who was then at Pisa, was delivered of a child, whom, in the absence of her husband, she named Cosimo--a significant nomenclature! She caused letters to be written to the Grand Duke Francesco, her brother-in-law, to acquaint him with the birth of the child, and to crave protection for _his father's son_!

Following the unhappy example of Paolo d'Orsini and Isabella de' Medici, and being absolutely their own masters, Piero and Eleanora agreed to live separate lives--he, a boy of seventeen and she just eighteen. What more disastrous beginning can be imagined for two young wedded lives, and yet it was inevitable. Piero did not care a bit for Eleanora, and Eleanora hated and despised Piero.

The marriage was but a brief break in evil a.s.sociations, for the boy returned to his boon-companions in the city, and the girl sought the solace of her lovers. It was in vain the Grand Duke pointed out the errors of their ways--Piero retorted with a "_Tu quoque frater_!" He had every bit as much right to console himself with a mistress, one or more, as Francesco did with his "_Cosa Bianca_!" Moreover, he became urgent in his demand for a still more liberal allowance, which the Grand Duke weakly conceded--as he had done in the case of his other grasping brother, the Cardinal.

Everything and everybody at the Court of Florence seemed to be demented.

To enjoy the basest pleasures and to indulge in the foulest pa.s.sions, such was the way of the world; and Eleanora was but a child in years, but a woman in experience--and that experience not for the honour of her life, alas! Sinned against, she sinned like the rest. How could a lovely, talented, warm-hearted girl, with the hot blood of Spanish pa.s.sion coursing through her veins, resist the admiration, the flattery, and the embraces of the gay young cavaliers of the Court? She merely followed the vogue, she was no recluse; and when, in 1575, she was enrolled as a "Soul" in the _Accademia degli Elevati_, she a.s.sumed the name of "_Ardente_"--a true t.i.tle--a correct epithet!

One of the captains of the palace guard--himself a remarkably handsome and gallant soldier--Francesco Gaci, had a prepossessing young son, Alessandro, a cadet of the same regiment, who fell violently in love with Don Piero's fascinating young wife. Unable to restrain his boyish ardour, one day he seized Donna Eleanora's hand, covered it with kisses, and professed himself ready to die for love of her. The Princess, pining for love, looked with favour upon her infatuated lover, and granted him something of what he wished.

Alas, for love's young dream! The Grand Duke caught wind of it, and without making much ado, promptly stopped the intrigue. Alessandro Gaci was removed summarily from his commission and enclosed in the monastery of Camaldoli; whilst to the Princess was administered a smart rebuke and warning.

Eleanora's haughty spirit rose at the interference of her brother-in-law in matters of her heart, and she determined to act in opposition to his commands. She had scarcely got off with the old love before she was on with the new. This time she appears to have made the first advance. At all events, in the entourage of the Grand d.u.c.h.ess Giovanna, was an attractive and youthful knight of the Order of St Stephen of Pisa--Duke Cosimo's new naval-military order. He was a court chamberlain with the military rank of lieutenant--Bernardino, the son of Messer Sebastiano degl' Antinori, who had translated Boccaccio's works for Cosimo.

The young cavaliere had the misfortune to kill, quite accidentally, in a friendly game of "_Calcio_," a great friend of his--Francesco de'

Ginori. The game was played in presence of Princess Eleanora and many ladies of the Court. Bernardino wore Eleanora's favours, as he usually did, making no secret of his pa.s.sion for Don Piero's neglected, beauteous wife, and of the return of his love by his fair _innamorata_--it was indeed the talk of the town.

The Ginori, an ancient and lordly family, intimately connected with the Medici, claimed satisfaction at the hands of the Grand Duke for what they chose to call the a.s.sa.s.sination of their young relative. Francesco judged that the _liaison_ between his sister-in-law and the so-called "a.s.sa.s.sin" required regulation, especially as she had failed to comply with his previous admonition. The two offences would be best judged by the banishment of the cavaliere, whose rank forbade his inclusion in a monastery. Consequently Bernardino was sent off, under guard, to a fortress in the Isle of Elba, and Princess Eleanora was confined, during the Grand Duke's pleasure, to her apartments in the Medici Palace.

The old tale that "love laughs at locks" had now one fresh telling! An amorous correspondence began between the parted lovers, which was carried on for a considerable time without detection. At last there came a day when the secret was out, through the carelessness of Bernardino's brother Filippo, the intermediary in the love affair. Watching his opportunity of dropping a letter into the hand of the Princess, as she pa.s.sed through the corridor connecting the Pitti and the Uffizi--just completed by Duke Cosimo's orders--Captain Filippo had the curiosity to read the _billet-doux_ himself. He failed to notice that a brother officer was standing close by, who also glanced at the contents of the letter.

Captain Giulio Caccini was Master of Music and conductor of the palace orchestra, and when he had a favourable opportunity he confided to his master what he had seen--doubtless he considered himself well on towards the receipt of a reward for his mean services.

Francesco was furious: he might, as Sovereign, have his love pa.s.sages with whom he willed--although be it said, truly, he had one and only one love, Bianca Cappello Buonaventuri--but he could not tolerate any amours between a princess of his house and a subaltern of his guard.

Captain Bernardino was ordered to be brought back to Florence immediately, and, after a stormy interview with the Grand Duke, he was consigned to the condemned-criminal dungeon of the Bargello.

The same night the prisoner's cell was entered by a _Frate_--a confessor, who acquainted him that he had been sentenced to death!

Expostulation was vain, and his a.s.severations of innocence and promises of submission to the Grand Duke's will were rudely interrupted by the appearance of the headsman! Forced upon his knees, the unhappy young officer mumbled out his confession, and then the executioner, pa.s.sing a stout cord about his throat, strangled him--struggling and crying out piteously for mercy!

When Antinorio was dead, Francesco was informed, and, sending for Eleanora, he told her what had become of her second lover, and warned her that a like fate might easily be hers if Don Piero was made acquainted with the intrigue--surely a fell prophecy of coming tragedy!

Piero, too, was sent for to the palace, and again reprimanded for his evil life and for his cruel desertion of his charming young wife. He took his brother's words in an entirely wrong sense, abused him soundly for his interference, and left his presence in a violent pa.s.sion.

At once he caused an intimation to be made to the Princess that he wished to see her about a matter which concerned them both intimately, and required her to meet him out at the Villa di Caf.a.ggiuolo. It was the 20th of July, in the year 1576, that Eleanora received her husband's commands--just ten days after the brutal murder of her lover--during the course of which she gave way to uncontrolled grief. This summons she knew presaged dire consequences to herself, and she had no friend to seek for consolation and advice. The Grand Duke was out of the question, and d.u.c.h.ess Isabella d'Orsini, who had proved herself no friend of good omen, was in a plight very much like her own!

No, she had to fight the battle of her life and death alone, this girl of twenty-three. She replied that she was quite prepared to meet Piero, but she asked for a short delay. She spent it in weeping by the cradle of her little son, Cosimo, and arranging her worldly affairs--she was quite prepared for the worst.

Leaving Florence in the middle of a hot summer's day, the course to Caf.a.ggiuolo was trying to her horses--one indeed fell and died on the way--an evil omen for poor Eleanora! As night was coming on she reached the villa, more dead than alive with fright, and accompanied only by two faithful ladies of her household. To their surprise the house appeared to be deserted: there were no lights in the windows, and no one seemed to be about.

The great doors were wide open, and with much trepidation the Princess mounted the marble steps. The door of every room also was open and the arras pulled aside, but nowhere could she see or hear her husband. Very uncanny everything felt, the silence was almost suffocating, and the darkness threw weird shadows athwart her and her companions.

At the entrance of the room, which she deemed to be Piero's--they had never cohabited there, or indeed anywhere, she knew not where he slept--Eleanora paused, affrighted. She had heard a rustle! she had seen something! it was a hand held beyond the arras!--and there was a poignard within its grasp!

E'er she could cry out or take a step backwards, a sudden, savage blow struck her breast--she fell!--stabbed to death! The hand was the hand of Piero de' Medici!

Eleanora was dead! Her life's blood crimsoned, in a gory stream, the marble lintel, and Piero gazed at the victim of his desertion, l.u.s.t, and hate--he was mad!

Kneeling upon his knees in the h.e.l.lish darkness, he tried to stanch that ruddy stream. Then he laved his hands in her hot blood and conveyed some to his raging lips! Reason presently a.s.serted herself; and, throwing himself prostrate along the floor, he banged his head, thereupon calling out in a frenzy of remorse for mercy for his deed!

"G.o.d of Heaven," he pleaded, "judge between my wife and me--I vow that I will do penance for my deed, and never wed again."

The short summer's night early gave place to the dawn--not rosy that sad morning, but overcast--gloom was in everything. Piero was still praying by his dead wife's side when the tramp of footsteps upon the gravel outside the house fell upon his ears. Swiftly he ran and closed the entrance-doors, and then calling in a creature of his--a base-born _medico_--he ordered him to make, there and then, an autopsy of the corpse, and report according to his express instructions.

"Death from heart failure and the rupture of an artery," such ran the medical certificate of death! Miserable Eleanora di Piero de' Medici was buried ceremoniously in the family vault at San Lorenzo, and Piero made a full confession to his brother, the Grand Duke.

Francesco counselled him to leave Florence at once, and seek a temporary home at the Court of Madrid, where he might inform his kinsman by marriage--the King of Spain--of the truth about Eleanora's death. It was reported at the time that Piero gained possession of Eleanora's child, Cosimo, and took him away with him from Florence; but what became of the unfortunate little fellow no one ever knew--probably he went home to his mother in Paradise just to be out of the way!

Don Piero was appointed by King Philip to a command in the war with Portugal, but, whilst he distinguished himself by bravery and ability during the campaign, on his return to Madrid he began the evil life he had left behind in Florence. The religiously disposed courtiers were shocked and outraged by his enormities, and, at last, the King requested his unwelcome visitor to go back to Tuscany.

The Grand Duke very unwillingly allowed Piero to settle once more in Florence. His house in the Via Larga--it had been occupied by the scapegrace a.s.sa.s.sin, Lorenzino--again was a nursery of immorality, as well as the headquarters of the enemies of his brother. Piero became the ally of the scheming Cardinal Ferdinando, but his depraved and evil life was to the end given over to the basest uses of human nature, and he died miserably, as he well deserved, in 1604, having outlived his second wife--Beatrice, daughter of the Spanish Duke of Meneses--two years. Of legitimate offspring he left none, but there survived him eight natural children by two Spanish nuns in the grand ducal convent of the Santa a.s.sunta delle Murate.

After the death of Maria, his eldest daughter, Duke Cosimo centred his paternal affection in his second daughter, Isabella Romola. She was born in 1542, just a year younger than his eldest son, Francesco Maria. Her Spanish name endeared her especially to the d.u.c.h.ess Eleanora, who built many "_Castelli en Espana_" for her child.

The young Princess was a bonnie, precocious little girl. At her christening it was said, greatly to his embarra.s.sment, she kissed the ascetic bishop who held her at the font; this was taken as an omen of her success in the service of Prince Cupid! Brought up with her two sisters and her brothers, Francesco and Giovanni, she very early gave evidence of charming and peculiar talent.

Merry as a bird and playful as a kitten, the young girl was singing, singing the livelong day, and dancing with the utmost grace and freedom.

She greatly astonished her parents by her musical gifts and by her talent as an _improvvisatrice_. She composed, when only ten years of age, some really excellent _canzone_ and, more than this, she set them to her own tunes for the lute and pipe, and arranged a very graceful ballet.

At Court, Isabella was now known as "_Bianca la Seconda_," her attainments and her person recalling those of Bianca, "the tall daughter" of Piero and Lucrezia de' Medici. She had, as well, a remarkable taste for languages: she rivalled her sister Maria in Latin, which she wrote and spoke with ease. Spanish seemed to come to her naturally, greatly to the delight of her mother the d.u.c.h.ess, and French she acquired with similar success.

With her facile pen she could design and draw what she willed, with as great freedom as she applied to musical notation. Indeed, there seemed to be no art in which she could not distinguish herself, and she received encouragement from all the most famous artists of her father's Court. One of her panegyrists has written thus of Princess Isabella: "Suffice it to say, that she was esteemed by all--strangers as well as those about her--a perfect casket of virtue and knowledge. She was greatly beloved, not only by her parents, but by the whole of the people of Florence."

Added to her mental accomplishments, which developed with her physical growth, the Princess exhibited all the charm of a beautiful face and graceful figure, and, when she reached the ripe age,--for Florence,--of twelve, she was the most lovely and attractive young girl in Italy.

Reports of her beauty and talent were current in all the Courts of Europe, and many princely fathers of eligible sons made inquiries about her fortune; whilst many an amorous young Prince found his way to Florence, to judge for himself of the charms of the fair young girl.

Duke Cosimo was not the man to give his comely daughter away at random: indeed he cherished the thought of keeping her in Florence and by his side, so courtly refusals of proffered hands, and hearts, and crowns, were dealt out to one and all the suitors. Pope Paul IV., who was on the best of terms with Duke Cosimo, and never forgot what he owed in his elevation to the Papal throne to his friend's influence, conceived a matrimonial project for youthful Isabella. At his Court was a young man of ill.u.s.trious descent, good attainments, the heir to vast possessions, and a devoted adherent of the Holy See--Paolo Giordano d'Orsini.

The Orsini were split up into many branches, but the family was one of the most ancient and honourable in Rome. Signore Girolamo d'Orsini, father of Paolo Giordano, was lord of Bracciano and Anguillaria, and of the country around Civita Vecchia. When only twelve years old, he had been named by Pope Leo X. to the honorary command of a Papal regiment of cavalry. When still in his teens the youth served with distinction in France and in the Neapolitan war; and, on attaining his majority, he was sent with a detachment of troops to the a.s.sistance of the Emperor Charles V., in the devastating war against the Turks in Hungary.

Created General and Marquis by the Emperor, the young commander returned to Rome in 1537, and took up his position as the acknowledged head of his family. He married Francesca, daughter of Bosso Sforza, heiress of the Counts of Anguillaria. Three sons and a daughter were born to them.

Paolo Giordano, born 1539, was adopted by his maternal uncle, Carlo, Cardinal Sforza da Santa Fiora, and became a protege of Paul IV.

Following his father's profession of arms, he saw military service in Spain, but was recalled to Rome by the death of both his parents. On succession to the family estates the Pope created the Lordship of Bracciano a Duchy, and sent a message to Duke Cosimo, commending the young soldier to his notice, and suggesting a matrimonial alliance with one of his daughters.

Cosimo looked with favour upon the Pope's proposition, and asked the young Duke to pay the Florentine Court a visit. The young people seemed made for one another: he was handsome, brave and rich, she was beautiful, talented, and lovable. Perhaps it was a case of love at first sight, anyhow they were betrothed in 1555, with the proviso that the nuptial knot should not be tied until Isabella had attained her sixteenth year.

In due course the marriage-contract was drawn up, signed and sealed, but it contained a condition which was as unnatural as it was impolitic.

Duke Cosimo insisted that his dearly-beloved daughter should make his house her home for at least six months each year, and only pay occasional visits to her husband's palace in Rome! Duke Paolo, quite rightly, resented this questionable arrangement, and only agreed at last on pressure from the Pope.

Whatever made Cosimo take such a weird course no one can really say, although horrible rumours were indeed rife in Florence about the relations between father and child! It was, however, a fatal bar to all marital happiness, and led to the one and only possible _denouement_--tragedy. Certainly the Duke bestowed upon the young couple the splendid estate and villa of the Baroncelli, which had come into his hands, and which he enlarged and surrounded with a park. He added a munificent endowment and had the villa refurnished and redecorated throughout, according to his son-in-law's wishes.

The marriage was celebrated on 3rd September 1558 in the private chapel of the Pitti Palace,--a Sat.u.r.day, always considered, in Florence, an unlucky day for a wedding,--a few months after that of Prince Alfonso d'Este's to Isabella's younger sister--Lucrezia. After a brief honeymoon spent at their villa the youthful bride and bridegroom separated--an ominous repet.i.tion of a fateful error. Truth to tell, Duke Paolo took an intense dislike to his father-in-law: he distrusted him both in relation to his affection for Isabella, and also with respect to his tyrannical character generally. Florence also and the Florentines were distasteful in their excesses of ill-living, cruelty, and chicanery--not that the Court of Rome was a Paradise, or the young man a St Anthony!