GROWING UNPOPULARITY OF THE DUKE OF ATHENS
[1342-1343 A.D.]
Those who were to gain most by the change were the great, so-called, who, being hitherto excluded from the employments and obliged to obey a government of merchants, had now every reason to hope that the duke, to whom their rank brought them nearer than the others, would grant them his favour together with no small share in the government. One of the first acts of the duke was to make peace, and afterwards an alliance with the Pisans, thinking it necessary to confirm the dominion; which very much displeased the Florentines. It is easier to acquire states than to maintain them. The favoured by the change can be few, and these produce endless discontents among those who either expected or thought the same reward due to them. The mind too, which in the execution of the enterprise, has been assiduously vigilant and active, when once it has obtained its end, is accustomed generally to relax, at a time when its vigilance ought to be increased. The duke thought he would be able to preserve by force what he had acquired by benevolence, and took into pay many foreign troops at the expense of the republic, an insufficient means against a populous city, which may be badly inclined.
He soon neglected the friendship of the great, and began to cultivate that of the common people, extending his favours to the lowest, in order to deserve their powerful support. Principal persons were put to death upon trivial pretences; others were fined heavily in money. To this were added the insolence and dissoluteness of the duke and his dependants towards the most honest women; amongst whom they endeavoured to introduce the libertine customs and manners of the French and Neapolitan courts, and substitute them in place of the modest and decent attributes of the republican Florentines. Not only common dissoluteness degraded his courtiers, but even vices which nature abhors. The seed of discontent was sown in all orders of people—in the nobility, besides the motives we have adduced, for not being admitted to the government, as they had expected; in the people for having lost it; in all orders on account of the increased impositions, so that three months had hardly elapsed before the government of the duke became detested with more vehemence than it had been before desired.
It was not difficult for the duke to perceive the change, and the increasing hatred of the people against him; but his manner of acting in these circumstances was not very judicious. It was natural to imagine that, in a new principality, some conspiracy might be planned against him; but he thought of gaining to himself the public affection by an air of confidence and extraordinary security, which he carried so far as not only to despise, but even to punish as calumniators whoever ventured to give him salutary advice. Matthew of Morozzo, for having warned him that the family of the Medici were conspiring to kill him, was, by an act of cruelty at once useless and imprudent, flayed and hanged; this terrible example, however, did not deter others, so great is the hope and courage of informers. Lambert Abatti followed Matthew in giving information and receiving punishment; for having disclosed to the duke that some noble Florentines were conspiring for his death, and that they held a council with John Riccio, a captain of Mastino, he received the reward due to the trade of an informer. This cruel severity, without gaining him the good disposition of the Florentines, was adapted only to invite the discontented to conspire against him more openly. The duke, however, with an unexampled frivolity, appears to have cared more for words than actions; since, upon its being reported to him that Bettone of Cino, who had been already promoted by him, spoke ill of his government, he caused his tongue to be plucked out, to be stuck upon a lance, and the unfortunate Bettone to be dragged close to it upon a car through the city. He banished him afterwards to Romagna, where he died from the consequences of the wound.
Words cannot express how much, in an eloquent city, eager to examine and judge of public affairs, such a punishment at once disheartened and embittered the citizens against him, who thus saw even the liberty of speech denied them. All orders of the state were roused against the duke; three conspiracies were formed against him at the same time, and not one had any knowledge of the other. The bishop of Florence (himself Acciajuoli) was the head of the first; he had loaded the duke with excessive praises at his first installation, and was now ashamed of it. As the three conspiracies did not communicate with each other, the projects to get rid of the duke were various, none of which could be carried into execution; because, as suspicions increased, he had vigilantly put himself upon guard, although the conspirators for a considerable time remained concealed. Francis Brunelleschi, one of the adherents of the duke, received a hint of the conspiracy of the Medici from a Sienese, who came there, but who could only name Paul Marzecca, a Florentine citizen, and Simone of Monterappoli. These were arrested, and, being tormented, revealed the names of the conspirators, of whom Antonio Adimari was the ringleader, a man of great reputation, both for the qualities with which he was endowed and the greatness of his family. When summoned he appeared, and was detained; but the duke dared not put him to death.