Detail from the fresco by Domenico Ghirlandaio in the Church of S. Trinità, Florence.
In October or November of 1478 Clarice and the children left Pistoja and went to the great fortress-villa Cafaggiuolo in the Mugello, which in winter must have been terribly cold and dreary.
Clarice de’ Medici to Lucrezia
Magnifice Mater honoranda,—On account of the bad roads and the much rain we have not sent in the carrier for three days. Now either he or another will go to you with this: because I wish to know how you and Lorenzo are, and the others. I beg of you to write and tell me. We, by God’s grace, are all quite well but in the water above our heads. We remain all day in the house, and nothing gladdens us so much as letters and news from you all. I commend myself to you.—Cafaggiuolo, December 16, 1478.[243]
Agnolo Poliziano to Lucrezia de’ Medici
Magnifica Domina mea,—The news we can send you from here are these. That the rain is so heavy and so continuous that we cannot leave the house and have exchanged hunting for playing at ball, so that the children should have exercise. Our stakes are generally the soup, the sweet, or the meat; and he who loses goes without; often when one of my scholars loses he pays tribute to Sir Humid.[244] I have no other news to give you. I remain in the house by the fireside in slippers and a greatcoat, were you to see me you would think I was melancholy personified. Perhaps I am but myself after all, for I neither do, nor see, nor hear anything that gives me pleasure so much have I taken our calamities to heart. Sleeping and waking they haunt me. Two days ago we began to spread our wings for we heard the plague had ceased; now we are again depressed on learning that it still lingers. When at Florence we have some sort of satisfaction, if nought else that of seeing Lorenzo come home in safety. Here we are in perpetual anxiety about everything. As for myself I declare to you that I am drowned in weary sloth, such is my solitude. I say solitude because Monsignore[245] shuts himself up in his room with only his thoughts for company, and I always find him so full of sorrow and apprehension that my melancholy is only increased in his company. Ser Alberto di Malerba mumbles prayers with these children all day long, so I remain alone, and when I am tired of study I ring the changes on plague and war, on grief for the past and fear for the future, and have no one with whom to air my phantasies. I do not find my Madonna Lucrezia in her room with whom I can unbosom myself and I am bored to death. Our sole relief is in letters from Florence, from Malerba, who has written these last few days, but I must tell you he generally sends good news which we believe for a little while, such is our desire that they may be true. But these plums usually turn into sloes. However I am trying to arm myself with hope and cling to everything in order not to sink to the bottom. I have nought else to say. I commend myself to Your Magnificence.—Cafaggiuolo, December 18, 1478. Servitor
Angelus.[246]
Lorenzo de’ Medici to the King of Spain
Most Serene and Excellent Lord my King: after humble recommendation, &c.,—I have been informed during the last few days that your Majesty wrote me a letter full Of affection and benevolence at that terrible time when my beloved brother Giuliano was so cruelly torn from me in the centre of the church, and when I was wounded. This letter, I know not why, never reached me; would to God it had, for the emotion evinced by so great a King would have been a great comfort to me when I was oppressed by such a terrible sorrow. Had I only known that the letter had been sent by your Majesty and delayed in the journey, it would have been no small comfort, and I should have at once thanked your Majesty for such a proof of kindly feeling towards me. Even now I send most heartfelt thanks and express my deep obligation. I desire nothing more than that an opportunity may arise for me to show my devotion to your Majesty. It is far beyond my power to repay not alone the letter, but even the slightest sign from so great a King, all I can do is to place myself entirely at your Majesty’s orders. I commend myself ever to your Majesty O my Lord and King, and beg to be taken under the shadow of your wings. Your Majesty is I know fully acquainted with our affairs. We are preparing for war and working hard to be able to resist the forces of the enemy. Resist we shall, as I hope, because we shall not fail to ourselves, and I trust God will aid the good cause. Again I commend myself to your Majesty, whom may God preserve in happiness.—Florence, April 3, 1479. Your Serene Majesty’s most devoted servant,
Lorenzo de’ Medici.[247]