For many of his contemporaries Lorenzo de’ Medici was the frequent subject of verse, especially Latin verse, which the complimentary art of the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries preferred as the more dignified, even after Italian poetry had secured a position by considerable achievements. Many of these poetical productions have been rescued from oblivion only to sink back again, unless they contribute to the historical knowledge of the period. Their literary worth consists merely in a talent for form which was surpassed by most of the Latinists of the following century. Fortunately the court-poet of the Medici was Poliziano. Many of his epigrams are addressed to Lorenzo, and the elegance of the form as well as the warmth of feeling which breathes through all he wrote about his patron, diminishes that impression of servility which is inseparable from this kind of poetry. Praise of his discretion and foresight, of his words and deeds—wishes that he may attain the age of Nestor, as he already possesses his wisdom—thanks for favour granted, and offers of future service, are the themes of verse, as well as the merits of a swift runner, of a Spanish hound, of a tree before the Medicean house, supposed to be dead, but which had bloomed again, and of the brook of Ambra. During Giuliano’s lifetime, the concord between the two brothers was the object of praise; they were called Castor and Pollux, Agamemnon and Menelaus. Angelo wrote an agreeable love-poem of some length on the name of Giuliano. He thoroughly belonged to the Medicean household. He was still young when Lorenzo entrusted to him the education of his son Piero; but before the latter was eight years old dissensions occurred which caused the poet-pedagogue many an hour of discomfort.
In the summer of 1478, when war and sickness made a residence in Florence undesirable, Lorenzo, as already stated, sent his wife and children to Pistoja, where they were hospitably received in the house of Andrea Panciatichi, the head of an influential family inclined to the Medici. They were accompanied by Angelo Poliziano, other masters, and a doctor. Here Piero, only seven years old, with his great-uncle Giovanni Tornabuoni received Ercole d’Este, who was going to take the command at Florence. In October they exchanged their residence at Pistoja for the villa at Fiesole, where the family circle was increased by the sons of Niccolò Orsini, Count of Pitigliano. And here arose a difference between the mother and the tutor. Clarice was a good and careful mother. Giovanni, who was not yet three, had soon after his birth given occasion for anxiety, and been a great trouble to her and to his grandmother, on account of his delicate health. Concerning Giuliano, then a few months old, whose constitution always remained feeble, she wrote later to her husband: ‘I will care for him as a mother should, but I beseech you to take care of yourself for the children’s sake and mine.’ Poliziano’s mode of bringing up did not satisfy her. Not that she began with a prejudice against him; the good terms on which they had once been are proved by the letters which he addressed to her on several occasions when he was absent from Florence with Lorenzo.[48] He bestowed great care on his young pupil, of whose writing and composition he sent specimens to the father. ‘I shall not fail,’ he wrote to Lorenzo from Pistoja, September 20, ‘in attention and fidelity. I know what I owe to your Magnificence, and I feel for Piero and your other children an affection equal to that of a father. Should anything unpleasant occur, I will endeavour myself to bear it, out of love to you, to whom I owe everything.’ These words show that there was already something amiss. Four weeks previously he had written: ‘I am busy with Piero, and encourage him to write, and I think in a few days you will receive a letter which will astonish you. We have a master here who teaches writing in a fortnight, so that it seems quite a miracle. The children are particularly happy, and look quite blooming. Piero never leaves my side. I would that I could serve you in greater things; but this is my work, and I fulfil it with joy. But I beg you to ensure, either by letter or by a messenger, that my authority shall not be restricted, so that I may the more easily guide the boy and fulfil my duty. Nevertheless, act therein according to your pleasure. Whatever may happen, I will bear it with equanimity.’ And on the same day: ‘We get on as well as we can, but I cannot escape a few collisions.’ That he was dissatisfied, dull, and longing to be near Lorenzo, is clear from all his letters at this time, both to Madonna Lucrezia and to her son.
To make matters worse, came the villeggiatura at Caffaggiuolo, whither Clarice went in November. This was, from position and climate, a melancholy winter residence, where loneliness and bad weather seem to have put the excitable man doubly out of humour, and all the more so because Lorenzo’s old tutor, Gentile Becchi, who lived at the country house with the family, grew very unsociable in consequence of the sad circumstances of the time, which weighed heavily on the mind of this vehement accuser of the Pope. Gentile had felt the events of the spring deeply, and had been terribly cast down by the death of Giuliano. Poliziano had tried to cheer him with an ode, which has acquired historical importance from the testimony it bears to the hopes of foreign aid which were cherished by the adherents of the Medici and many of the Florentine people; hopes which were but very partially fulfilled.[49]
AD GENTILEM EPISCOPUM.
Gentiles animi maxima pars mei,
Communi nimium sorte quid angeris?
Quid curis animum lugubribus teris,
Et me discrucias simul?
Passi digna quidem perpetuo sumus
Luctu, qui mediis (heu miseri) sacris
Illum, illum juvenem vidimus, O nefas!
Stratum sacrilega manu!