by C. De Melo
Flabbergasted, Allegra inquired, “When is the announcement?”
“When it’s the right time,” she replied. “For now, we’re simply reveling in our own little secret.”
“Congratulations,” Allegra offered, pulling Bianca close for another embrace. “Long life and good health to you both.”
“I’ll invite you and your family to the wedding celebration when our marriage becomes public.”
“You can expect our attendance,” Allegra promised.
On June 10, 1579 Francesco de’ Medici announced his marriage to Bianca Cappello, and publicly acknowledged their son, Antonio. Two days later, Bianca was crowned Grand Duchess of Tuscany at the Palazzo Vecchio. Arrayed in a gold brocade with several strands of pearls round her neck, she received her new title with head held high.
A great celebration ensued. Long tables laden with delicacies beckoned hungry guests while wine stewards ran around filling silver chalices. The presence of official dignitaries alluded to Bianca’s reinstated political status, but the low number of noble guests present at the festivities suggested that she was still very much despised by the Florentines.
“This is the happiest day of my life,” Bianca confessed to Allegra at one point during the magnificent event.
“You deserve it,” Allegra assured her. “Oh wait, I must now refer to you as Your Grace.”
“Only in public.”
Both women chuckled, but they stopped the moment some courtiers approached to congratulate Bianca.
Allegra moved to stand beside her husband.
“I’m impressed,” Bruno admitted quietly, his eyes focused on Bianca.
“Grand Duchess of Tuscany is no small feat.”
“Especially for a woman who caused a scandal by rejecting the Doge of Venice in favor of a penniless boy.”
“Not only that,” Allegra whispered. “Running off with the boy, escaping arrest, becoming Francesco’s mistress, and bearing his illegitimate son.”
“While Ferdinando busily scoured the European kingdoms to find a noble bride for his brother, Francesco married his mistress in secret,” Bruno commented. “There will certainly be repercussions for this rebellious act.”
“I disagree,” she countered. “All will be forgiven in time.”
Bruno smiled. “My wife, the idealist.” He looked around and added, “Perhaps you’re right. The palace is crawling with Venetian dignitaries.”
Having put aside their resentment, the political leaders of La Serenissima welcomed Bianca back into their fold. After all, her marriage to Francesco strengthened the link between Tuscany and Venice.
“I would say Bianca has done well for herself,” Allegra said.
“Feeling envious?”
“No,” she replied. “I wouldn’t trade my life for hers.”
Bruno gazed down at his wife, who looked splendid in a crimson silk dress. A gorgeous diamond and ruby pendant sparkled against her elegant throat. “What about your husband?” he asked while tracing the line of her clavicle with his fingertip. “Would you trade him for such a grand title?”
“I wouldn’t trade my husband for the world.”
***
Bianca settled into the role of grand duchess with great apprehension due to the precarious nature of her position. Whenever she and Francesco’s heir, Filippo, were in the same room together, she carefully studied him. Despite being fed the best food that money could buy, the boy was puny for his age. The physicians poked and prodded him, prescribing every sort of tonic to encourage growth and stamina, but nothing worked.
It didn’t go unnoticed by the courtiers that the Medici heir was a runt in comparison to the hearty Medici bastard. Bianca’s smug pride at this fact was blatantly obvious, too. There was only one problem: even though Antonio was openly acknowledged by Francesco, he had been conceived out of wedlock and therefore barred from inheriting the duchy. Furthermore, Bianca still had plenty of enemies, including her own brother-in-law who now openly despised her for ruining his plans of securing a noble marriage for Francesco. As a result, Cardinal Ferdinando was made to look like a fool in the eyes of European nobility.
The first few years of marriage were not easy for Bianca, but everything changed in the year 1582. After a particularly long bout of fever, the little Medici prince died. Filippo’s death propelled Francesco to take swift action. He commanded his solicitors to draw up the necessary documents to legitimize Antonio and make him heir to the duchy of Tuscany. Luckily, King Phillip of Spain backed Francesco in this endeavor, thus speeding up the process.
Bianca could breathe a bit easier now that she was the Medici heir’s mother. She had a legitimate claim to rule as regent should Francesco die before Antonio reached adulthood, and this garnered some respect from both courtiers and members of the Medici family.
***
In 1583, Giambologna’s Rape of the Sabines was installed in the Loggia dei Lanzi, located in the Piazza della Signoria. The stunning white marble statue was a testament to the sculptor’s talent and eye for form. It served as yet another public artwork designed to bring glory upon the city and instill a sense of civic pride.
Allegra continued to take great pleasure in creating jewelry. As the years passed, she did her best to keep up with the changing tastes in fashion. There was a new goldsmith in Florence making a name for himself with daring new styles, and La Castagna pieces gradually lost popularity with younger nobles.
Rather than feel resentful, Allegra took a step back and allowed the ambitious maestro to step into the limelight while she devoted time to her son’s education. Shortly after Nico’s fifth birthday, she discovered that she was pregnant.
When Allegra informed Bruno, he became ecstatic and took her into his arms. “My heart rejoices with this news,” he said, touching her belly. “God’s greatest gift.”
Bruno kissed her lips and, before long, their passion drove them into the bedchamber where he made love to his wife with the utmost tenderness.
In May 1580 Allegra gave birth to a healthy baby girl whom she named Sabina in honor of her great-grandmother.
Bruno was under his daughter’s enchanting spell the moment he held her in his arms. “Sabina,” he said. “I like the name.”
Knowing her mother’s misfortunes with pregnancies, Allegra felt extremely blessed to have birthed two healthy children in a row without complications. Little Sabina grew into a precocious child who demanded attention. With two children to raise, Allegra stopped making jewelry and concentrated on being a mother. Occasionally, she would venture into her workshop and work on something for pleasure, then set it aside for her daughter to wear when she was older.
The years passed in this peaceful, pleasant manner. When Vittorio and Lavinia came to Florence, they devoted the majority of their time to Nico and Sabina. Allegra mourned the fact that her mother wasn’t alive to enjoy her grandchildren; she would have doted on them, too.
Chapter 28
Poggio a Caiano, Tuscany
September 1587
The Grand Duchess of Tuscany loosened the lace collar around her neck as she dabbed the perspiration from her brow with a silk handkerchief. The intense heat of the summer lasted well into late September, compelling the rulers of Florence to remain in their country villa of Poggio a Caiano.
After the delicious midday meal, her husband and son had decided to nap while she sat on the terrace beneath the shade of a potted persimmon tree. Scanning the sun-scorched landscape, she reached for her fan to cool her flushed face. The lovely villa and the land surrounding it was hers. Olive trees and vineyards stretched out as far as her eyes could see, and this was only one of the many Medici properties.
It was during these rare moments of solitude that Bianca congratulated herself on her achievements. At fifteen years of age she was married to a pauper. Now, she was the wife of the most powerful man in Tuscany. Her life wasn’t perfect by any means, but it was good. Very good.
The heat made her drowsy and her eyes slowly cl
osed.
Francesco wandered onto the terrace with a letter in his hand.
Bianca, who had fallen asleep in the chair, stirred. “How was your nap, my love?”
Ignoring her question, he announced, “Ferdinando is on his way here.”
She sat up and pursed her lips in disapproval.
Seeing this, Francesco held up the piece of vellum in his hand. “His words are friendly, even affectionate. Perhaps Ferdinando has finally come to the realization that he was wrong about you—about us.”
“Perhaps,” she conceded in a tone that suggested otherwise.
Bianca suffered a great humiliation last year after undergoing a false pregnancy. In an attempt to spite his sister-in-law, Ferdinando circulated a vicious rumor that Antonio wasn’t her son, but rather the son of a serving girl who’d been smuggled into Francesco’s bed. The insult still stung.
Francesco planted a swift kiss on his wife’s forehead. “Don’t be cross, my love. He’s my brother, after all. This visit could lead to reconciliation.”
Bianca caught a whiff of female scent on her husband’s clothing. The dainty young kitchen maid she acquired recently would be tossed out first thing tomorrow morning. Only unattractive women would be hired from now on.
“Darling,” she cooed. “Let’s sup under the stars this evening like we used to do when we were younger.”
“I have a pile of legal documents to sift through, and each one requires my signature. Another time, perhaps.”
Bianca smiled, but her eyes were hard. She would send the wench packing tonight. “You’re always so busy. I worry about your health, Francesco. You must make time to rest.”
He smiled hesitantly. “Yes, you’re right.”
***
On the last day of September, Allegra received a tragic message from Asti. Lavinia and Vittorio had been hunting when he suddenly fell off his horse. The letter assured her that her father’s death had been immediate.
“He did not suffer, my love,” Bruno said gently in an attempt to soothe his inconsolable wife.
“My dear, sweet father…”
“Hush, now. I’ll take care of you. I’ll take care of everything.”
True to his promise, Bruno arranged for Vittorio’s body to be transported to Florence. He provided his father-in-law with a fine funeral, and did everything possible to comfort his grieving wife. He even sent a message to the grand duchess, who interrupted her sojourn in the countryside to comfort her friend in Florence.
Bruno and Allegra received Bianca like a queen, and they enjoyed a wonderful dinner together. Afterward, Bruno retreated to his personal study to allow the women a chance to visit privately.
“I’m so glad you came to see me,” Allegra said as the two women sat sipping sweet wine in the Palazzo Castagno’s library. “Thank you.”
Bianca reached out and took hold of Allegra’s hand. “Your father was a good man. I’m sorry I missed his funeral, but I couldn’t come any sooner.”
“You’re here now, which is all that matters. How long can you stay?”
“I must leave in the morning.” Bianca paused, her expression anxious. “Ferdinando is coming to Tuscany.”
“You seem worried, my friend.”
“I am.”
***
Bianca and Francesco welcomed Cardinal Ferdinando’s arrival in Tuscany with a sumptuous feast. Roasted wild boar and pheasants, along with pies in fanciful shapes, graced the dining table. The October sun shone brightly, but there was an autumnal nip in the air. Ferdinando regaled his hosts with tales of Roman nobility and Vatican intrigues.
In the days that followed, Bianca noticed the Medici brothers frequently engaged in conversation. They even went hunting together on a few occasions, laughing like boys as they forced their horses into a gallop. Perhaps her husband was right; the cardinal’s visit was a step toward reconciliation.
One day, Francesco and Bianca felt ill. The symptoms were abrupt and harsh, and they both died eleven days later, a few hours apart. It was later reported that the grand duke and grand duchess had suffered tremendously, their pain agonizing.
Ferdinando’s behavior during his brother’s final days—and after his death—raised suspicion. The cardinal made it a point to minimize the gravity of their medical conditions in his messages to the Vatican, stating that Francesco’s illness was due to unwise eating habits and that Bianca, who worried so much over her husband’s condition, became physically ill herself. He was fully aware of how the situation appeared once their deaths were confirmed, so he promptly ordered medical examinations of the bodies to divert any speculation of his involvement in their demise.
The cardinal promptly transported his brother’s corpse to the Basilica di San Lorenzo in Florence, where a dignified funeral befitting the grand duke took place. Ferdinando expressed his contempt for Bianca by arranging for her body to be unceremoniously buried in Santa Maria a Buonistallo, a church near Poggio a Caiano. Four terracotta jars containing the viscera extracted from the autopsied bodies of Francesco and Bianca were buried in the crypt of that church.
When news of the sudden deaths of Francesco and Bianca became public, rumors of Ferdinando poisoning his brother and sister-in-law circulated in Florence. With his brother out of the way, the cardinal immediately stepped into the role of Grand Duke of Tuscany. Any rumors of his culpability were quickly met with the explanation of malaria being the official cause of death. In an attempt to appear magnanimous, he allotted considerable land and wealth to his orphaned nephew, Antonio.
***
The late November wind blew across the Tuscan countryside with impressive force. Several dark clouds clung near the horizon, signaling the possibility of an oncoming storm.
Allegra shivered as she alighted the carriage, her gaze resting on a pile of autumnal leaves swirling in a frenzied dance. In her hand was a single white rose. Bruno moved to follow his wife, but she stopped him by placing a gentle hand on his arm. “I would rather go inside alone, if you don’t mind.”
“As you wish, my love,” Bruno conceded before settling back into the warmth of the carriage. “Take as much time as you need.”
Crows called out to one another from nearby cypress trees as Allegra crept up the pebbled pathway leading into the old stone church. The damp and dimly lit interior was empty, and her footsteps echoed as she crossed the flagstone floor.
An elderly priest emerged from the sacristy and inclined his head in greeting. Allegra closed the space between them with brisk steps.
Placing coins in his hand, she said, “A small gift for your church.”
“Thank you.” Indicating a nearby wooden confessional, he added, “Do you wish to unburden yourself, Signora?”
“Actually, I’m here because…” Even now it was difficult to say the words. As her eyes prickled with tears, she quietly inquired, “Would you kindly tell me where Bianca Cappello is buried?”
The priest frowned in thought. “Ah, yes.”
The old man shuffled toward the rear of the church and stopped before a grave marker that was far too humble to contain the remains of a woman who had possessed such flamboyant style and fiery passion—much less the Grand Duchess of Tuscany.
When the priest disappeared into the sacristy, Allegra knelt and placed the white rose on simple tomb. “I miss you, Bianca. Rest in peace, my best and dearest friend.”
EPILOGUE
April 1594
Ferdinando de’ Medici left the Church and allied himself with France by marrying Christine de Lorraine in 1589. They settled into the Palazzo Pitti, transforming it into a fashionable residence according to his wife’s French tastes.
In time, he proved himself to be a shrewd ruler. One of the ways he obtained more taxes from the Florentines was through a decree in 1593 prohibiting the arti villi, or vile arts, from being conducted on the Ponte Vecchio. This meant that butchers, fishmongers, sausage and cheese vendors would have to ply their trades elsewhere. The only business allowed to exist on th
e city’s oldest bridge was the making and selling of gold and gemstones.
In 1594 Ferdinando’s decree was put into effect. The clever goldsmiths were quick to use their privileged location on the Ponte Vecchio to their utmost advantage. Whenever the female members of the Medici family and their friends crossed the bridge via the Vasari Corridor, they seized the opportunity to show off their wares. The ladies peeked through the small windows to admire the sparkling trinkets being held up for their perusal. Some of the bolder goldsmiths would call out to a lady by name, claiming that their newest creation was made especially for her slender finger or delicate earlobes. More often than not, these flattering exchanges resulted in profitable sales.
On a fine April morning, Allegra and Bruno stood on the Ponte Vecchio before a quaint shop with mullioned windows and ornate door hinges. The sign above the door read: NICO SPINELLI: ORAFO.
“Happy birthday, Nico,” Bruno said, holding out a key.
At age twenty, Nico was as handsome as his father and already a highly trained goldsmith. He accepted the key with a grateful nod. “Thank you, Father, Mother. I’ll make you both proud, I promise.”
Sabina stood by her brother’s side. She had inherited her mother’s talent for drawing, inspiring Nico to create fine jewelry based on her wonderful designs. The Spinelli name was held in the highest esteem among the goldsmiths of Florence.
“Hopefully, I’ll obtain as many commissions as the famed La Castagna,” Nico commented while fumbling with the lock on the door. “I heard that people are paying great sums of money for the late goldsmith’s pieces. Collectors are going around to royal courts and making ridiculous offers to any lady flaunting his jewelry.”
Allegra and Bruno exchanged a meaningful look.
“What do you think, Father?” Nico pressed. “Do I possess that kind of creative potential?”
