n face of this centralized authority, all legal opposition within the
borders of the State was futile. The elements needed for the
restoration of a republic had been for ever destroyed, and the field
prepared for violence and despotism. The nobles, destitute of political
rights, even where they held feudal possessions, might call themselves
Guelphs or Ghibellines at will, might dress up their bravos in padded
hose and feathered caps or how else they pleased; thoughtful men like
Machiavelli knew well enough that Milan and Naples were too 'corrupt'
for a republic. Strange judgements fell on these two so-called parties,
which now served only to give official sanction to personal and f
family disputes.
An Italian prince, whom Agrippa of Nettesheim advised to put them down,
replied that their quarrels brought him in more than 12,000 ducats a
year in fines. And when in the year 1500, during the brief return of
Lodovico il Moro to his States, the Guelphs of Tortona summoned a part
of the neighbouring French army into the city, in order to make an end
once for all of their opponents, the French certainly began by
plundering and ruining the Ghibellines, but finished by doing the same
to the Guelphs, till Tortona was utterly laid waste. In Romagna, the
hotbed of every ferocious passion, these two names had long lost all
political meaning. It was a sign of the political delusion of the
people that they not seldom believed the Guelphs to be the natural
allies of the French and the Ghibellines of the Spaniards. It is hard
to see that those who tried to profit by this error got much by doing
so. France, after all her interventions, had to abandon the peninsula
at last, and what became of Spain, after she had destroyed Italy, is
known to every reader.
But to return to the despots of the Renaissance. A pure and simple
mind, we might think, would perhaps have argued that, since all power
is derived from God, these princes, if they were loyally and honestly
supported by all their subjects, must in time themselves improve and
los e all traces of their violent origin. But from characters and
imaginations inflamed by passion and ambition, reasoning of this kind
could not be expected. Like bad physicians, they thought to cure the
disease by removing the symptoms, and fancied that if the tyrant were
put to death, freedom would follow of itself. Or else, without
reflecting even to this extent, they sought only to give a vent to the
universal hatred, or to take vengeance for some family misfortune or
personal affront. Since the governments were absolute, and free from
all legal restraints, the opposition chose its weapons with equal
freedom. Boccaccio declares openly: 'Shall I call the tyrant king or
prince, and obey him loyally as my lord? No, for he is the enemy of the
commonwealth. Against him I may use arms, conspiracies, spies, ambushes
and fraud; to do so is a sacred and necessary work. There is no more
acceptable sacrifice than the blood of a tyrant.' We need not occupy
ourselves with individual cases; Machiavelli, in a famous chapter of
his 'Discorsi,' treats of the conspiracies of ancient and modern times
from the days of the Greek tyrants downwards, and classifies them with
cold-blooded indifference according to their various plans and results.
We need make but two observations, first on the murders committed in
church, and next on the influence of classical antiquity. So well was
the tyrant guarded that it was almost impossible to lay hands upon him
elsewhere than at solemn religious services; and on no other occasion
was the whole family to be found assembled together. It was thus that
the Fabrianese murdered (1435) the members of their ruling house, the
Chiavelli, during high mass, the signal being given by the words of the
Creed, 'Et incarnatus est.' At Milan the Duke Giovan Maria Visconti
(1412) was assassinated at the entrance of the church of San Gottardo
Galeazzo Maria Sforza (1476) in the church of Santo Stefano, and
Lodovico il Moro only escaped (1484) the daggers of the adherents of
the widowed Duchess Bona, through entering the church of Sant' Ambrogio
by another door than that by which he was expected. There was no
intentional impiety in the act; the assassins of Galeazzo did not fail
to pray before the murder to the patron saint of the church, and to
listen devoutly to the first mass. It was, however, one cause of the
partial failure of the conspiracy of the Pazzi against Lorenzo and
Giuliano Medici (1478), that the brigand Montesecco, who had bargained
to commit the murder at a banquet, declined to undertake it in the
Cathedral of Florence. Certain of the clergy 'who were familiar with
the sacred place, and consequently had no fear' were induced to act in
his stead.
As to the imitation of antiquity, the influence of which on moral, and
more especially on political, questions we shall often refer to, the
example was set by the rulers themselves, who, both in their conception
of the State and in their personal conduct, took t he old Roman empire
avowedly as their model. In like manner their opponents, when they set
to work with a deliberate theory, took pattern by the ancient
tyrannicides. It may be hard to prove that in the main point in forming
the resolve itself they consciously followed a classical example; but
the appeal to antiquity was no mere phrase. The most striking
disclosures have been left us with respect to the murderers of Galeazzo
Sforza, Lampugnani, Olgiati, and Visconti. Though all three had
personal ends to serve, yet their enterprise may be partly ascribed to
a more general reason. About this time Cola de' Montani, a humanist and
professor of eloquence, had awakened among many of the young Milanese
nobility a vague passion for glory and patriotic achievements, and had
mentioned to Lampugnani and Olgiati his hope of delivering Milan.
Suspicion was soon aroused against him: he was banished from the city,
and his pupils were abandoned to the fanaticism he had excited. Some
ten days before the deed they met together and took a solemn oath in
the monastery of Sant' Ambrogio. 'Then,' says Olgiati, 'in a remote
corner I raised my eyes before the picture of the patron saint, and
implored his help for ourselves and for all h* people.' The heavenly
protector of the city was called on to bless the undertaking, as was
afterwards St. Stephen, in whose church it was fulfilled. Many of their
comrades were now informed of the plot, nightly meetings were held in
the house of Lampugnani, and the conspirators practiced for the murder
with the sheaths of their daggers. The attempt was successful, but
Lampugnani was killed on the spot by the attendants of the duke; the
others were captured: Visconti was penitent, but Olgiati through all
his tortures maintained that the deed was an acceptable offering to
God, and exclaimed while the executioner was breaking his ribs,
'Courage, Girolamo! thou wilt long be remembered; death is bitter, but
glory is eternal.'
But however idealistic the object and purpose of such conspiracies may
appear, the manner in which they were conducted betrays the influence
of that worst of all conspirators, Catiline, a man in whose thoughts
freedom had no place whatever. The annals of Siena tell us expressly
that the conspirators were students of Sallust, and the fact is
indirectly confirmed by the confession of Olgiati. Elsewhere, too, we
meet with the name of Catiline, and a more attractive pattern of the
conspirator, apart from the end he followed, could hardly be
discovered.
Among the Florentines, whenever they got rid of, or tried to get rid
of, the Medici, tyrannicide was a practice universally accepted and
approved. After the flight of the Medici in 1494, the bronze group of
Donatello Judith with the dead Holofernes was taken from their
collection and placed before the Palazzo della Signoria, on the spot
where the 'David' of Michelangelo now stands, with the inscription,
'Exemplum salutis publicae cives posuere 1495. No example was more
popular than that of the younger Brutus, who, in Dante, lies with
Cassius and Judas Iscariot in the lowest pit of hell, because of his
treason to the empire. Pietro Paolo Boscoli, whose plot against
Giuliano, Giovanni, and Giulio Medici failed (1513), was an
enthusiastic admirer of Brutus, and in order to follow his steps, only
waited to find a Cassius. Such a partner he met with in Agostino
Capponi. His last utterances in prison a striking evidence of the
religious feeling of the time show with what an effort he rid his mind
of these classical imaginations, in order to die like a Christian. A
friend and the confessor both had to assure him that St. Thomas Aquinas
condemned conspirators absolutely; but the confessor afterwards
admitted to the same friend that St. Thomas drew a distinction and
permitted conspiracies against a tyrant who bad forced himself on a
people against their will.
After Lorenzino Medici had murdered the Duke Alessandro (1537), and
then escaped, an apology for the deed appeared,8 which is probably his
own work, and certainly composed in his interest, and in which he
praises tyrannicide as an act of the highest merit; on the supposition
that Alessandro was a legitimate Medici, and, therefore, related to
him, if only distantly, he boldly compares himself with Timoleon, who
slew his brother for his country's sake. Others, on the same occasion,
made use of the comparison with Brutus, and that Michelangelo himself,
even late in life, was not unfriendly to ideas of this kind, may be
inferred from his bust of Brutus in the Bargello. He left it
unfinished, like nearly all his works, but certainly not because the
murder of Caesar was repugnant to his feeling, as the couplet beneath
declares.
A popular radicalism in the form in which it is opposed to the
monarchies of later times, is not to be found in the despotic States of
the Renaissance. Each individual protested inwardly against despotism
but was disposed to make tolerable or profitable terms with it rather
than to combine with others for its destruction. Things must have been
as bad as at Camerino, Fabriano, or Rimini, before the citizens united
to destroy or expel the ruling house. They knew in most cases only too
well that this would but mean a change of masters. The star of the
Republics was certainly on the decline.