AN: Thanks for the reviews! Back to Italy we go, but only to find that Elizabeth will get entangled in events that have great impact on England and her brother's marriage...
FIVE - Giulio and me
It may seem weird to the innocent bystander that I had mentionable relationships with no less than two popes and continued to address them by their Christian names in private, but that's how it was. With Giovanni, or Leo X, I admittedly spoke less, but what Giulio and I had can safely be called a friendship. He had always been grateful for my intervention on Simonetta's behalf and my subsequent good treatment of his son Alfonso, and when I returned to Italy in 1524, he welcomed me back with open arms. He made sure I received grand apartments in the Medici palazzo in Florence. Funny enough, they had once belonged to Alfonsina, my mother-in-law, who had died a few years ago. Now, what had been hers became mine – including Simonetta, whom I made my principal maidservant.
Coming back home was a wonderful feeling. I embraced Simonetta tightly, who had tears in her eyes when she told me how dire and boring her years since Alfonsina's death had been. Her only joy, of course, had been Alfonso, whom she had finally been allowed to care for fully. And how much he had grown! He was a smart boy of fourteen now, tall and slender, and even though he had not inherited his father's handsomeness, I knew he was going somewhere. Unfortunately, seeing my little Vittoria again was not as joyful, for she reacted coolly and quite distantly towards me and her younger siblings. I could not begrudge her – she had been seven when I left for England and was now twelve. She barely knew me anymore. But I shall speak about her later.
What I wanted to tell you about was my connection to Giulio, or Clement VII, and how it affected not only my life, but the course of European politics. As mentioned before, he received me with open arms and an invitation to the Vatican. At first, his overwhelming kindness confused me, but it soon became evident that there was more to it. He was, in fact, not so much interested in me as a person (and thankfully even less in me as a woman), but in my affiliation with the King of England. Harry, he hoped, could be a valuable ally, who could help him keep the balance in the power struggle between France and Spain.
"Of course we know the King would be careful not to antagonise either of them," Giulio said when we first visited the topic.
Having always enjoyed the liberty to speak my mind with the Medici, I decided to reply: "You are quite mistaken, then. My brother is a good and just king, but he is by no means a careful man, or a hesitant one. One day, he is friends with Francis; the next, he calls off his daughter's betrothal to the Dauphin and promises her to the Emperor instead. It's near impossible to anticipate what he might do next."
"But his real loyalties – where do they lie?"
"The King feels most obliged to his own matters – above anything else. He holds no great love for either Francis or Charles," I explained. When I saw the frowning look on Giulio's face, however, I quickly added: "But he is loyal to Your Holiness in every way. My brother is a very pious man. And if you make sure never to interfere with his matters; or if you even do something that pleases him, you will find in him a faithful and diligent supporter."
Now, Giulio smiled. "We knew it was wise to ask your counsel on these matters. Tell us, then, how we could make him beholden to us?"
After a moment of thought, I replied: "Well, he did love it when the Pope bestowed the title of Defensor Fidei on him."
Giulio seemed to like that answer. But today, I wonder what would have happened if I had told him there and then that Harry wanted an annulment. Perhaps things would have been better in England. Yet I hesitated, unwilling to act behind Harry's back or to harm Catherine. Protecting her from the inevitable was foolish, I know, but despite our fight I pitied her somehow. Maybe that was my mistake then, but I would eventually try to mend things.
Over the next years, Giulio continued to invite me to Rome for lengthy periods of time. You might assume it was only a pretext for seeing Simonetta, but their love had long ago faded, although he still treated her amiably. No, he was actually growing found of our conversations and the "freshness" of my thoughts, as he once confessed to me. I enjoyed them, too, but what I liked even better was my position at the heart of Italian politics. Giulio was the ruler of the Papal States and one of the major players in this game, and more often than not, he let me in on his thoughts and plans. In some ways, our relationship resembled that which had connected Niccolò and me once, but only this time, we were not speaking about theoretical matters. This was real.
And our plans were by no means limited to the borders of the Vatican. Giulio was harbouring the idea of ending the Republic of Florence, the failed experiment, as he called it. In its stead, he was for a hereditary Duchy of Florence. The idea seemed plausible to me, but who would be duke then, I asked? And even though he was the Pope, Giulio looked at me like a sorry schoolboy then.
"It ought to have been your husband's privilege, but since he is with God and his angels, the right passes to his children," Giulio started, but failed to continue.
I understood him nonetheless. "And you would like to see it pass to Alfonso," I said matter-of-factly.
He looked at me with an unspoken excuse in his face. I quickly pondered my options before shaking my head.
"Do not apologise, for I understand. Alfonso is almost old enough to be a man and carry responsibility while Alessandro is still but a boy. One must not neglect such facts in times like these. Where Alessandro would drown, Alfonso could swim."
"Then you have no objections?" Giulio asked hopefully.
"Not if you in turn make a promise," I replied, waiting for his nod before continuing. "That you will not desert me or my children, now or ever, and that you will protect our interests and see to it that my children are always taken care of as befits their station. They are Medici just like Alfonso and you. I am a Medici. We have a right to be here, to be part of Florence and Italy. I want that recognised even though Lorenzo is dead."
Giulio was more than happy to accept this offer. He did not consider my children a threat, not now that he knew I supported Alfonso if he were to become Duke of Florence. He swore to always protect us, an oath that would always make me feel safe in the future.
Why did I trade my little Alessandro's claim as Lorenzo's legitimate son for such securities? Because security is worth more than a crown and a favour owed by a powerful man can be much more valuable than a hundred soldiers. As I had once told Catherine, women in our time could only be as powerful as the men they controlled. Given the fact that the Pope himself was my protector now, I had become one of the most powerful women in Europe in an instant.
That, at least, is how Niccolò put it in one of his letters. Though we no longer met as often as we used to, we kept up a regular correspondence. In 1526, I even managed for him to get a private audience with His Holiness in order to present his latest work, the Florentine Histories, an honour only few artists and authors received. He also brought a new stage play with him which premiered in Rome to great acclaim and praise. I enjoyed it in one of the private boxes that belonged exclusively to the Pope, sharing the company of the writer. Looking back now, this was a pristine moment for my love of arts, but also a moment of immense power. This was the central of cultural life in Europe and I was at the heart of it. Things could have continued like this forever.
Unfortunately, they didn't. The conflict between the League of Cognac (including the Papal States and France) and Charles V reached a boiling point in 1527 which culminated in open and full-scale war. Canons were fired, men lay in their blood, and worst of all, our enemies managed to reclaim Florence from the Medici. My children and I were barely able to escape with our lives, but our home was pillaged and all we held dear thrown in the streets like trash. I was profoundly shocked by the rapid action and cruelty. Fortuna, however, would not grant me much time to think about these events. Only days after we had fled to the safety of the Vatican, Spanish troops arrived in Rome. What happened next I still lack the words to describe. The holy city was sacked.
To me, the soldiers were like the vandals who had sacked Rome some thousand years before. They preyed on the city like wasps, swarming through the streets and taking everything they could find. They slaughtered Romans who happened to cross their way or sometimes raped them first, and then set fire to their houses. My life was literally going up in flames that day. At first, I was paralysed by fear, and it was Simonetta's down-to-earth attitude that saved my life. She was the one who came to pick me and the children up and join her former lover, the Pope, into the safety of Castel Sant'Angelo. We were safe – but prisoners in our own castle.
These were devastating days for me. I felt like I was losing grip, like all my wits had been worth nothing. I had not prevented this disaster. Giulio, too, was at loss for words or wisdom. Neither of us had imagined this to be possible. These men were Spanish soldiers, after all! Wasn't their monarch the Holy Roman Emperor, the grandson of Their Most Catholic Majesties, King Ferdinand and Queen Isabella? It was beyond our reach to understand how he could have allowed this sack to proceed.
We sat in the Castel for weeks like mice in a trap, only receiving news from the outside through our carefully woven network of spies and servants knowing how to smuggle a message in their clothes. Two of them were of the utmost importance to me and neither was pleasant. The first came in June and was written in Niccolò's shaky hand. The Medici had lost Florence once again, the Republic had been restored – but he, the hero of the Republic, had been denied a place in the new government due to his "implications with the Medici". Plainly speaking, his friendship with me had barred him from the one thing he had always hoped to return to.
But he urged me not to feel sorry for him, since our friendship had been the light of his life for more than a decade now. He would not have traded it for anything, he said. These words warmed my heart, for he spoke with such kindness about our friendship and my talents that I still remember every word today. Somehow, it seems appropriate that this would be the last I heard of him. Only days after he sent this letter, Niccolò died of digestive pains. It took me four weeks to hear about it in my Roman prison, but once I knew, I wept so bitterly that Giulio had to pick me up from the floor and rock me for hours. A great man had left this world and (which was even worse) my life. I felt so numb and alone.
But I have promised to tell you about two messages and the second one was from Harry. He told me he had heard of the attack and the Pope's flight and that he prayed every night I was well, too. But he also made no secret of his despair about the situation, since he had wanted to contact Giulio about an important matter that was eating up his soul: the unlawfulness of his marriage to Catherine. She had been his brother's wife, he told me, and the dispensation had been wrong. Surely, Giulio could have found a way to help him, but now that he was de facto prisoner of no other than Catherine's beloved nephew, Harry saw his only chance for freedom disappear into smoke. That he wanted nothing more badly, however, was obvious, since he also mentioned a certain "Lady Anne" with whom he was very much in love and who would surely be able to succeed where Catherine had failed and give him a son.
Harry was right; his prospects of getting an annulment were rather bleak now. Looking at Giulio I knew that I could ask him for anything without fearing he would object, but this was something which he could no longer give me, or Harry. We were all trapped indeed. And just when I thought things couldn't be worse, God in his wisdom gave me a silver lining of hope and a dreadful fear at the same time: Emperor Charles was on his way to Rome.
